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behindheremeraldeyes · 4 years ago

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sasusaku month 2020

day 04- drink me under

title: Inebriating Love

summary: Modern AU - it’s a lonely, Sunday night and Sakura doesn’t want to spend it alone with her memories.

a/n: I suck at summaries hahaha okay, I LOVED writing this one! I had this idea a while ago when I was listening to an old song and I just had to use that feeling of two lovers in the night with SasuSaku. I’m not sure if it worked the way it was meant to, but I’m happy with the result! I hope you guys enjoy this one, and I also hope you forgive me for my mistakes. My beta is still busy, so all the typos and grammar mistakes are on me. Have fun!

Rated T

Though Sakura has always considered herself to possesse a wild imagination, her 13-year-old self would’ve never pictured she would eventually grow up to become a regular costumer at the nearby pub. In fact, being the goody two-shoes she used to be, her younger self would’ve laughed at whoever said anything that stupid about the brilliant future that certainly awaited for her.

First, I will graduate high school with the best scores, then I will be a famous doctor. I’ll stay away from any addictions and I’ll marry a wonderful guy so we can have two, wonderful kids before I turn thirty!

She would answer that whenever someone asked her about what she wanted to be when she grew up, and there would be no doubt lingering in her voice regarding it. Sakura had everything planed for herself, and anything slightly different from that scenario would be unacceptable.

Poor, little girl, she thinks now, taking a sip of her double scotch. There’s a smirk decorating her lips as she places the glass back on the wooden counter, and she closes her eyes as the liquor slips down her throat.

It doesn’t burn anymore. Hasn’t burned in ages, in fact. The alcohol now is no stranger to her body, but unfortunately, it’s not as effective as it used to be when she first started coming to this place. She rarely gets drunk anymore, needing many doses to make her pass out, but she doesn’t know if that’s something that a small-town girl should be proud of.

Her life was supposed to have been different. Maybe not exactly like the one she had pictured, but she should’ve been able to do more after she actually managed to become a doctor and work at a prestigious hospital. She believes she has become a successful woman— a strong one, as some of her young patients usually call her— but that alone isn’t enough to protect her from a lonely night.

If it were, perhaps, she wouldn’t be all alone in a pub, drinking her problems away and talking to her only friend in the city, Uchiha Sasuke— the pub-owner.

Tonight, since most of his employees are off duty, he is the one serving his clients their drinks, and right now, he is giving another dose of whiskey to the old man sitting some benches away from her. Her green eyes carefully observe him from her seat as he slowly pours another dose while telling him that, maybe, he’s had enough for the night. There aren't many people drinking on this Sunday night— 4, including her, all of them men around their fifties— and she couldn’t help but feel a bit greedy.

Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the night itself, but Sakura doesn’t want to share him tonight. She enjoys his company more than she cares to admit, and seeing him so far away makes her rosy lips turn into a pout. He’s the reason why she keeps coming back to this place, and he’s also the only person who makes her feel less shitty about herself— and that says a lot.

At first, the pinkette thought it was just the way he treated all the other costumers, but slowly, she realized that was not the case. He’s a cordial man to everyone, at most, but it’s become easy for her to tell that he actually likes her. He is always sincere whenever he asks her about her day, and more than once has he closed the pub earlier so they could have a drink or two while sharing a pizza. They talk about a lot of things, and she simply loves to hear the weird stories about some weird costumers and their weird stories.

Whenever she hears about these people, a part of her just hopes she’s not just another weird story in his repertoire.

Ever since she arrived in the city and destiny brought them together, he has been there for her, giving her tips on the urban life and even telling her which restaurants she should order food from whenever she didn’t feel like cooking. Eventually, they discovered that they have a lot of similar interests, such as mystery books, horror movies and old, American songs— the kind that would always start playing whenever she came by— and it’s undeniable that they feel comfortable enough around each other to share some personal memories, too.

In the same way he knows about her life before she ended up where she is, Sakura knows about his family. Knows that he has lost them in an accident over 10 years ago, and that he gave up on his layer carrier after that. She also knows about the fan tattoo he has on his right forearm and that he has a snake named Aoda in his small apartment.

He’s a very interesting guy, indeed. He holds an unique and mysterious charm behind his obsidian eyes and stoic features, and even after years of coming and going, the pinkette still feels herself being drawn to him.

How intriguing, she thinks, propping her elbow on the counter. Unconsciously, she rests her chin on the palm of her right hand, squinting her eyes a bit as she continues to stare at him. She notices that he slightly turns his head to spare her a side glance, and instead of looking away when their eyes meet, Sakura holds his stare for a couple of seconds too long until, eventually, he has to break contact in order to pay attention to his other costumer. There’s a sly smirk decorating her face now, and she also notices the way his lips twitch upward.

This is something they do on regular basis, now. She didn’t really notice it, at first, but eventually, Sakura realized that it’s not unusual for their eyes to meet whenever he’s serving another person. It used to be shy and unconscious, but after a while, she started doing it on purpose, just to see what his reaction would be.

It’s a bold move of hers— or, at least, she thinks it is. An unspoken challenge between their eyes, as they tease and expose each other with every exchanged glance. It’s an amusing and harmless flirt, and though they have no idea of how to beat this ruleless game, neither of them seem to be in a hurry to end it or anything like that.

However, losing this game doesn’t seem to be that bad.

Once he finally manages to walk away from the older guy, the Uchiha doesn’t waste his chance to come to her. His steps are slow, but soon, he’s standing across the counter from her. The warm lights that illuminate the bottles behind him highlight his handsome features, and she knows she could just stare at him for hours without stopping.

“Having fun with your other costumers, Sasuke-kun?” She asks, her eyes now holding a joyful gleam.

“You can say so.” He says, simply, organizing some of the glasses and bottles near his reach. “In fact, he’s curious about you.”

“Me?” She furrows her brows.

“Aah. He doesn’t understand what a pretty girl is doing all by herself in a place like this.”

“Well…” She starts, the tip of her tongue smoothing her lower lip. Sakura loves hearing that question whenever she comes by, especially since she doesn’t know the answer herself. Every time, she makes a new excuse and creates a different lie, just to see how people would react to her crazy stories. Tonight, though, she doesn’t really feel very creative. “Tell him it’s just a lonely night playing its tricks.”

“…I see.” He nods, knowing better not to press on her matters. Though he has heard her problems many times before, Sasuke has learned that, on some nights, nothing really can be done. He knows when she needs space and when she needs a shoulder to cry on, and right now, it’s clear that it’s the former. “He's been ordering the same as you, but I don’t think he will be able to stand for too long.”

“It takes years of practice to reach my level, right?”

“Years, right?” His lips curl up slightly at her words, probably remembering the girl she used to be when they first met. On that day, she had ordered a diet coke, and she made him swear at least three times there was no drop of alcohol in her glass before she took a sip. And even if nowadays there are times when she really just comes for her diet coke, she knows he’s a man worthy of her trust.

“Yeah.” She giggles, then, taking the last sip of her drink. “Tell him that befriending the pub-owner does that to you.”

“Oh, so now this is on me?”

“Of course. If you weren’t such a nice guy, perhaps, I wouldn’t be here tonight.”

“Hn.” He closed his eyes, pouring some more in her glass. Though she didn’t really use words to ask him, he already knows how to read her unspoken wishes. “I'm glad I’m a nice guy, then.”

“Very nice, indeed.”

She takes another sip of her new drink, and allows her mind to drift back to the moments they shared. Though she really believes him to be a nice guy, Sakura can’t help but feel a certain heat pooling in her stomach because of the times when he wasn't really that nice.

Her eyes land on his hands— so strong and firm— and she remembers how warm they feel against her bare skin. The way his muscles tense at her touch and the marks he leaves on her hips whenever he pins her against a wall are signs of his hidden roughness, and she bites her lower lip at the memory of his kisses trailing down her neck.

Though that black shirt might make him look composed and recollected, she knows better than to believe that professional facade of his. His intense stare and his dark locks hide more than anyone can tell, and she likes to believe this is their little secret.

It has happened a few times already and even if they say they can’t keep doing this forever, it’s a lot easier said than done. They share a deep connection neither of them really understand, and from time to time, their souls seek for a certain comfort that they can only find within each other.

It’s more than just physical need, they know. It’s more than raging hormones and alcohol, for there’s an intimacy neither of them had counted on when they first started their rendezvous. They’re already past that one-night-stand thing, but to say it’s something more—well, perhaps she’s still too sober to dwell into this.

“You're oddly quiet tonight.” He says, breaking her from her thoughts.

A soft smiles crosses her lips as her fingers start playing with the brim of her glass. She looks down, at first, then her eyes return to him. “I guess I don’t know what to talk about.”

“Anything is fine, I suppose.”

“Uhmm…” She hums, trying to think about what to say. “I guess it would be easier if I was like the others that come here with marriage problems or because they got fired.”

“But you’re not like them, Sakura.” He states, his dark eyes intensely staring at her. Her heart starts pounding faster in her chest, the air feeling too heavy inside her lungs. She feels defenseless under his stare, as if he is stripping her of her good senses, and although she really came by just for a couple of drinks and a nice talk, something inside her urges for more. His sincere concern is probably his most charming feature, and he knows exactly when to use it against her.

Damn it, she really hates him for that.

“Well...” She starts, a teasing smile on her lips. “You would probably know exactly what to tell me, right?"

“It depends a lot, to be honest.”

“How so?”

“If the problem had anything to do with your job, I would probably just tell you to try again since this is the main reason why you came to the city in the first place. Your job is important to you, and even if you complain about it every now and then, we both know you love what you do.”

“This is a very good advice, indeed. Very professional.” She giggles, tilting her head to the side. “And what if it was about marriage problems?”

“In that case, I don’t think I would be able to give you a real advice on that.” He starts, looking around, as if he is checking his surroundings. She can tell he’s mostly messing around, but by the time he leans towards her, she doesn’t miss the way his eyes grow a bit darker. Their faces are bare inches apart, and the smell of his cologne invades her nostrils as he whispers to her. “I don’t think I would be able to remain impartial.”

Her eyes drift to his lips for a second, and it’s as if she can feel his warmth irradiating towards her body. Sakura is very aware that he’s teasing her, and even if she would normally be a bit more cautious with her words around him, right now, she doesn’t really seem to care about extending their little game for the night. “I guess I would be talking to the problem himself, right?”

A smirk grows on his face at her words, and slowly, he returns to his previous position. He’s towering over her now, only the wooden counter standing between their bodies. They don’t move for a couple of seconds, their lustful eyes still too busy flirting with each other to even pay attention to the world around them. And if not for his other costumer calling his name, they would’ve remained like that for who knows how long.

Once their eye contact is broken, she looks down at her drink once more, her lips still holding the memory of a smirk. Seeing how bothered his face seems right now is incredibly amusing, and for that, she decides to forgive that man for interrupting them.

He just wanted his drink, after all.

“Someone’s calling you, mister barman.”

“Tch.” He scoffs. “Don't go anywhere. I’ll be right back”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be right here with my drink.” She starts, her eyes now sparing his other costumer a side-glance. “But I don’t think our pal over there is gonna last that much longer.”

Sighing defeatedly, the raven haired boy makes his way towards the other guy. He’s speaking louder now, his words coming out with no connection between them. For what she could understand, he was trying to say anything about being an excellent drinker, and that he could drink more than everyone in that pub. He seems completely sure about that, but to no one’s surprise, it doesn’t take long before his head falls face-first on the counter top. At first, both Sasuke and her worry that he might have stopped breathing, but as soon as the Uchiha confirms that the man is just asleep, she relaxes again. Apparently, instead of an ambulance, they believe calling a cab should be just fine.

Her eyes are still looking at Sasuke from afar as he ponders his next options with his sleeping costumer. Judging by his face, the Uchiha seems troubled, and this is enough to make her laugh. It’s an honest laugh, she knows, and she realizes she hasn’t laughed like that for a while now. She rests her head on her left hand this time, and allows herself to appreciate that rare moment of joy in such an awful night.

When she left home that evening, the pinkette could’ve never imagined she would actually be able to laugh at a drunk man, and she believes she has to thank Sasuke for that. Though she knows her problems are still lingering in her mind, haunting her for even daring to show signs of happiness, Sakura is not a woman who willingly chooses to remain unhappy. As long as she can identify a valid way out, she’s always fast to ignore whatever is bothering her, and even if that doesn’t solve anything, at least it works as a coping mechanism.

Sometimes, she thinks, overthinking is just a useless, human reaction. There are times when worrying about something won’t really do anyone no good, and tonight is one of those times.

Sure, she could have chosen to tell him about her childhood best friend who got married in her home town and even the fact that she wasn’t invited for it. She could tell him how those severed ties made her really homesick, and how missing her family makes her remember her grandmother’s harsh words when she first told them she was moving out because of her new job.

Sakura could’ve really told him all that, but what difference would it have made tonight?

Knowing him, Sasuke would probably try to tell her not to let those things get to her, but at least for tonight, it’s already too late. It’s already gotten her— a lot more than she thought it would— and now it’s just too late to fix anything.

Not that she even tried, to begin with.

At the same moment she decided to come by for a couple of drinks, the pinkette had an idea of how her evening would end. She never really planned on getting a different point of view on that matter and she certainly wasn’t looking for any advice on what to do next.

Sakura was just thirsty for a drink or four and some good company. His company, more specifically.

By the time she makes up her mind, the Uchiha has already called that man a cab and the other costumers are also taking their leave. They all pay him for the drinks and the service, and when they’re finally left alone, Sasuke decides that it should be fine if he closes earlier tonight. She’s still sitting on her bench when returns from the now locked door, her glass now almost empty, and her eyes follow him as he starts placing the bottles back on the shelves.

“Do you want some help with anything, Sasuke-kun?” She asks, sincerely.

“Thank you for the offer, but don’t worry. I’ll just organize a couple of things so Naruto can finish everything tomorrow morning.”

“I bet he’s gonna love the surprise.” She chuckles, her mind already imagining the blonde cursing his boss. “You should give him a raise.”

“Not happening.” He denies, firmly.

“Well, I’ve tried.” She shrugs, a smile on her face as she closes her eyes for an instant, her mind drifting back to his other costumer. “I guess that guy still has some training to do if he wants to beat me.”

“He really didn’t know what he was getting himself into.” He nods, wiping the counter top from peanut shells. “Barely he knew you would be drinking him under the table so early.”

“They never do.” She says, proudly, before finishing her drink.

There’s a smirk on his face at her words. Thinking that such a small girl would actually be able to handle so much alcohol without even losing balance really amazes him. “Do you want another drink?”

“Oh, no. I’ve had my share for tonight, thank you, Sasuke-kun.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to work tomorrow or anything and you didn’t even drink that much tonight.”

“I’m sure.” She says, and it’s as if she can feel her eyes turning a darker shade of green as she looks at his back. Her heart is beating faster now, and she knows she won’t be able to hold an innocent conversation for too long. When he turns to face her, then, she holds his stare for a bit too long, and unconsciously bats her eyelashes. She’s blushing now— just a dust of pink on her cheeks— and she takes a deep breath before her voice comes out almost as a whisper. “I might not be close to drinking myself under, but…as they say, another drink and I’ll be under the host.”

Her eyes are half-closed now as she looks at him, and slowly, she makes a bridge with her fingers that lingers just below her pouting lips. Sakura is very aware of what she’s doing right now, and judging by the way his eyes grow fonder, she can tell he knows it, too. They’re way past subtle advances now, but they know better than to just skip the steps.

A little romance never did anyone no harm, after all.

After they maintain eye-contact for a couple of seconds, the Uchiha is the first to break it, as he clears his throat, causing the smile on her face to widen a bit. Once he finishes what he was doing, he grabs a bottle he keeps under the counter and a clean glass before walking away so he can join her on the other side. He takes a seat next to her, and carefully, he pours them another dose and handles her the previously-empty glass. He’s also holding one, now, and her expression softens as he comes closer.

“Then let’s make it worth it."

Their faces are just inches apart when he says that, and she can’t find words to describe how good this feels. Though it’s far from the relationship she had pictured for herself a long time ago, Sakura believes this is much better than settling for what’s considered to be normal all over the world. Sasuke has brought an adventurous charm into her life, and he has showed her how beautiful the rain is even in the middle of a storm. He’s probably the most simple, yet most intriguing part of her life, and right now, she can’t really imagine herself without him anymore.

He has turned her small and monotonous world upside-down, and made her learn that, sometimes, people can grow thirsty for one another and there’s nothing wrong with that.

They clink their glasses before drinking the liquor, and they giggle a bit to that. His hand is now cupping her face, and his thumb softly brushes her cheek. They don’t need any words to express their feelings now, and when he finally kisses her— so roughly, yet gentle and passionate— it’s like all the alcohol she has consumed during the evening is making her throat burn. Her stomach is on fire, her heart is racing and she’s growing intoxicated by his touch.

Uchiha Sasuke is certainly the strongest and most inebriating thing in her life, and in this big and lonely city, he’s the only one who can quench her thirst.

fin.

#sasusaku #sasusaku month 2020 #ssmon20 #ssm20d4 #sasusaku fanfiction #myssfics

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recentanimenews · 5 years ago

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The 42 Greatest Anime Moments of Monkey D. Luffy

May 5 is the birthday of One Piece's main character Monkey D. Luffy, and over the past couple of decades of his existence, he's given us some moments that will stay in our minds forever. And so I've decided to chronicle 42 of his best ones, antics that will hopefully remind you how much you love the free-spirited, determined, ridiculous Birthday Best Boy. One note, though — while this list does contain some of those sweet, sweet fight scenes, I've already written a list that ranked his 20 greatest knockouts against bad guys. So, in order to not repeat that list entirely, I've tried to mix it up a little bit.

1. Luffy Wakes Up From A Great Nap

I can't think of a better anime debut for Monkey D. Luffy than "wakes up in the barrel that he miraculously survived a whirlpool in and immediately knocks out some pirates by accident." It's everything fun about the dude rolled into one.

2. Luffy Gets Coby To Hit Him

One thing that doesn't get mentioned enough about Luffy is his haphazard, yet skillful ingenuity. He knows that Koby will never get to join the Marines if he's associated with pirates, so Luffy, his one brain cell working overtime, gets Koby to punch him in order to prove that they're not friends because would friends brawl on the floor of a restaurant?

3. Luffy Gets The Straw Hat

A moment from the first chapter of the manga that was delayed until Episode 4 of the anime, Luffy getting the straw hat from Shanks is iconic. It sets in motion his entire journey and creates a symbol that represents freedom, adventure, and destiny.

4. Luffy Gives Nami The Straw Hat

Luffy giving Nami his straw hat is more than just a simple, comforting gesture. It's Luffy telling Nami that if she wants, she'll be a Straw Hat now and for the rest of her life. Nami may have problems, but she'll never have to deal with them alone ever again.

5. Luffy Gets His First Bounty

By gaining a bounty when he takes down Arlong, Luffy is introduced to the wider world of pirating, the World Government, and eventually the Grand Line. Though Buggy's reveal that he knew Shanks and Mihawk's appearance hinted at a wider world, this is Luffy's first real step into it.

6. Luffy Smiles At Death

Luffy obviously doesn't want to die. But as he smiles at the crowd and his crew while Buggy brings a sword down onto his neck, he grins. Because he didn't die in vain. He never became Pirate King and he never found the One Piece, but he did live his life exactly the way that he wanted to. And that's more important than any title or treasure. I'm glad he didn't die, though. They never would've found the Grand Line if Zoro had ascended to the role of Captain. They'd probably still be arguing in the Loguetown harbor.

7. Luffy Holds Up Hiriluk's Flag

Wapol wanted to destroy Hiriluk's flag and thus eliminate his legacy. But Luffy — smoking due to being recently shot by a cannon and holding up the flag — proved that's not something you can just do. As long as someone is there to fight for it, a flag is forever.

8. Luffy Disagrees With Vivi

Vivi, frustrated, enraged, and embarrassed about the treatment of her country, was more than ready to sacrifice herself for it ... and only herself. But Luffy wasn't hearing it. If she was going down, they were all going down. It wasn't just Vivi's fight anymore. The Straw Hats had reached Ride or Die status.

9. Luffy Beats Crocodile

I did a list of Luffy's best knockouts so I'm not gonna list every major punch here. However, the ones that are especially meaningful deserve recognition. And this one, where, after two defeats, Luffy battered Crocodile up through the streets of Alubarna, is inarguably one of the most memorable. It's a triumph that's a long time coming, equal parts brutal and satisfying.

10. Luffy Lets Himself Get Beat Up And Meets Blackbeard

Mirroring Shanks' restraint when he let himself get harassed by the Mountain Bandits, here we see Luffy decide not to fight Bellamy and instead he listens to Bellamy's foolish proclamations about why dreams suck and why you shouldn't have them and why Mylo Xyloto is the best Coldplay album, probably. However, even if he didn't need the pick-me-up, Blackbeard meets him outside to reaffirm that dreams never die. It would be a super nice remark ... if anyone but Blackbeard was saying it.

11. Luffy Is Immune To Enel

Until this point, Enel is borderline unstoppable, able to strike down anyone in his path and — with the help of his "mantra" — barely takes any damage in the process. And it's made him pretty cocky. But to see Enel's face distort in cartoonish disbelief when he realizes that Luffy is a Rubber Type Pokemon and that he's impervious to Electric Types is so joyously satisfying.

12. Luffy Decides To Get Rid Of The Going Merry

With the Going Merry slowly becoming unusable and actually becoming a handicap to the crew, Luffy figures that it's time to find a new ship. It's a sad moment, but you can't help but see Luffy's side. A good pirate crew needs a good pirate ship. And if the Going Merry suddenly sinks, Luffy is dead. Like very, very dead.

13. Luffy Faces Usopp

Usopp relates to the Going Merry, fearing that its "weakness" and "inadequacy" represents his own. And so when Luffy decides to get rid of the ship, Usopp lashes out, causing Luffy to have to "put down" Usopp. It's a difficult decision, but it shows that Luffy isn't all laughs and "I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!" declarations.

14. Luffy Does Not Recognize Sogeking

And then, after the most heartfelt showdown in the series, Luffy doesn't even recognize Usopp's Sogeking disguise, despite the fact that he has most of Usopp's traits, most of Usopp's weapons, and showed up only a little while after Usopp left. Oh, Luffy. Never stop being you.

15. Luffy Goes Second Gear

Power-ups are pretty common in anime. But Luffy saying that he needs to take his skills up another level so that he won't lose his friends still feels pretty special. And then the music kicks in and Luffy beats Blueno to a pulp and it's one of the most hype scenes in the entire series.

16. Luffy Declares War On The World

He'll always have a target on his back, he'll never be able to rest easy again, and the World Government will pursue him as long as he draws breath. Luffy knows this, but when the time comes to save Robin from CP9 in Enies Lobby, he doesn't hesitate to take on the whole world. It's just what friends do.

17. Luffy Refuses To Fall

When Luffy and Lucci fight, it isn't a quick contest. They go to absolute war on one another. And when Lucci thinks he's won, having left Luffy spitting up blood on the floor, we see that ... no. Luffy will not leave his feet. He has too much pride, too much grit, and too much determination. Defeat is not an option here. He will stop fighting to retrieve Robin when he's dead.

18. Luffy Is Reunited With Garp

For a long time, Luffy's actual flesh and blood family was a mystery. Shanks is kind of a cool uncle and Ace is someone that Luffy considers his brother, but where did Luffy, ya know, come from? As it turns out, his grandpa is the cannonball-throwing Marine Vice Admiral Garp, who is not only just as goofy as Luffy, but also really, really, really strong for being 76. What's his secret? Low carbs? Eiichiro Oda, please let me know.

19. Luffy Punches The Celestial Dragon

Luffy can't stand bullies or anyone that relishes the misery of others. So when a Celestial Dragon shoots Hatchan in the auctioneering house, Luffy walks right up to him and turns his face into a catcher's mitt.

20. Luffy Loses His Crew

Luffy's darkest hour (so far) comes when, in a fight with Kuma, Kizaru and the Pacifistas, his whole crew eventually gets wiped out and spread across the world. All the while, Luffy is powerless to stop it — his Gum Gum skills no match for Kuma's abilities. It's a truly pitiable thing to see Luffy beat his fists on the ground in futility, something entirely unlike any scene in the series before.

21. Luffy Covers Sandersonia

Back in Little Garden, Luffy agreed it wasn't necessary to actually have a reason for the fight between the giants. They were having an honorable contest between warriors. That was enough. Later when Sandersonia's scars were about to be revealed after a battle, Luffy covered them up. He had no interest in killing them or exposing their secrets. That is not what the battle was for. The contest was simply one that he wanted to win so he'd eventually get back to his crew.

22. Luffy Decides To Save His Brother Before Reuniting With His Crew

When Luffy learns that Ace is to be put to death, he must make a choice: Get the gang back together or dive into the depths of Impel Down and try to rescue his brother. He ends up choosing the latter, which shows a great deal of trust and respect for his crewmates. He knows they're strong enough to be OK without him for now.

23. Luffy Embraces Mr. 2

This is just plain wholesome. Luffy's love for his friends is might be the best thing about him.

24.Luffy Falls From The Sky

Luffy's story isn't just about his quest to find the One Piece, but the formation of a legend. And when Luffy and the other Impel Down escapees plummet from the sky into the Marineford war, you can practically see that legend being written.

25. Luffy Faces The Admirals

Yes, Luffy's attempts to kick a frozen log at them goes nowhere. And yes, Luffy is almost immediately knocked down by Kizaru when he tries to rush past him. But the guts in that kid! Facing down three of the most powerful men in the One Piece universe and demanding they give Ace back to him. That is moxie, my dudes.

26. Luffy Goes Comatose

Ace is dead. The mission has failed. A brother is lost. And all Luffy can do is go numb and lifeless. He has no words or actions to explain or react. A chunk of his soul has been ripped away.

27. Luffy Realizes He Still Has His Friends

Yes, his attempt to save Ace was a bust. But in the most hopeless of times, Jimbei asks him what he still has. And Luffy remembers he still has his friends — friends he has been there for in the past and who will most certainly be there for him later. They are still there. And because they are still there, Luffy's existence has worth.

28. Luffy Gets An Upgrade

Reuniting with his crew in Sabaody, it doesn't take too long for Luffy to find a way to show off the results of two years of training. He's been doing some grinding, so his skill tree has some new branches. He's unlocked some new abilities, and he's reached his evolved form. When a Pacifista comes at the Monster Trio (Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji,) they beat the bear out of it.

29. Luffy Decides To Make Fish-Man Island His Territory

For the most part, Luffy doesn't really care about the dominance sought by other powerful characters. But after he's gotten to know the citizens of Fish-Man Island and he sees the terror caused by Big Mom, he tells her straight-up he's gonna defeat her and take Fish-Man Island under his protection. It's the closest that Luffy has ever gotten to being a character in Goodfellas.

30. Luffy Allies With Law

And then, shortly after talking trash to Big Mom, Luffy teams up with Trafalgar Law in a plot to overthrow Kaido, another Emperor of the Sea. It's a real leap forward for Luffy. One day, you're just a kid from East Blue punching everyone that seems mean. The next, you're taking an active role in changing the power structure of the entire world. That's just how it is sometimes, though. As Logic once said, "Who can relate?"

31. Luffy Has Been "Picking Fights All Along"

Luffy knows he doesn't just tumble from one situation to another. He isn't just a poor guy caught up in the gambits of powerful evil forces. No, Luffy has definitely chosen to live a life where he will interfere with your best-laid plans if he feels inclined to. And if that includes a lot of fighting, well, so be it.

32. Luffy Reunites With Sabo

It's been pretty much non-stop action since the beginning of the Post Time Skip era, and that hasn't really allowed for a ton of emotional moments for Luffy. But when he reunites with Sabo in the coliseum and his scream comes out as a mix of happiness, confusion, and surprise, he finally gets one. Cry it out, buddy. We love ya.

33. Luffy And His Allies Head For Doflamingo

From orchestrating a breakout in Impel Down to creating a charge toward Doflamingo with all the allies he met in the tournament to win the Flame-Flame Fruit, Luffy has slowly gone from being the captain of a small crew on a ship with an animal head on the front to being the full-on leader of a Pirate Alliance. Luffy 2020 is what I say.

34. Luffy Goes Fourth Gear

Years after the reveal of Second and Third Gear, we get Fourth Gear, a power-up that even more freakishly transforms Luffy's body. It's not graceful, nor is it particularly beautiful to behold, but it gets the job done.

35. Luffy Beats Doflamingo

Doflamingo — a man that's been a thorn in the side of nearly everyone in the world for about 15 years of anime history — finally gets taken down. And still, it's only a stepping stone to Wano. Somehow, Eiichiro Oda creates these moments that seem like the biggest events in history, and yet, they're only just the beginning.

36. Luffy Refuses To Fight Sanji

Luffy knows Sanji is conflicted and not really a bad guy. And he's also aware of the fact that he'll be creating an even bigger issue if he fights back against his chef. So he just takes the kicks, hoping Sanji sees there's another way out of this. Sadly, it'll be a few episodes before he realizes that.

37. Luffy Waits For Sanji — And Then Punches — Sanji

Sanji finding Luffy because his captain's stomach is grumbling super loud is so cartoonish and lovely — because what is Sanji's role if not to feed his captain? Of course, Luffy enjoys Sanji's rain-soaked cookin' and then he punches Sanji for still being a twerp that won't admit what he really feels.

38. Luffy Clashes With Big Mom

Luffy stood beside Whitebeard, but this is his first real showdown with a Yonko. And it doesn't go very well. Big Mom is easily able to block him, which shows that, while Luffy has come a long way, he's still got a bit farther to go.

39. Luffy Places The Hat On Katakuri

Much like the previous covering of Sandersonia's shame, Luffy covers Katakuri's mouth with his hat after their duel. The two combatants fought and earned each other's respect. And so Luffy leaves Katakuri with his pride.

40. Luffy Knows He's Arrived In Wano Due To The Swords

That giant baboon is using a sword? Obviously this must be Wano, the land of samurai. That's Luffy logic at its most pure.

41. Luffy Promises Tama She Will Not Be Hungry Again

For the most part, heading to Wano seemed like a pretty impersonal act. The only reason he thought about going there in the first place was because Law seemed pretty confident it was a solid idea. But then he meets Tama and learns that she — along with most of the country — is starving. So his journey to take down Kaido gets some personal stakes. He's now shouldering the hopes of an entire group of people.

42. Luffy Is Beaten By Kaido

OK, so Round 1 didn't go so well. Luffy pummeled Kaido with everything he had and Kaido one-shotted him with a melee weapon attack. Luffy has to rethink his strategy and expand his move-set and maybe, with some luck, Round 2 will be a tad more even. I can't wait to see what Luffy moments we have in store when One Piece returns!

What is your favorite Luffy moment? Do any on this list stand out to you? Let me know in the comments!

Daniel Dockery is a Senior Staff Writer for Crunchyroll. Follow him on Twitter!

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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lesboinspace · 5 years ago

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PKMN Villains Zine Fic: The Aether Foundation

This was written for @pkmnvillainszine !! Digital copies of it may go on sale again if there’s enough interest~ I loved being able to write about Lusamine, she’s one of my favorite characters! Her past is hinted at in the game so I did my best to add to it :D I do feel that this is important to note: no one’s past is an acceptable reason for abusing someone else, and in no way am I saying that!! I just think Lusamine is a really complex character that we didn’t get enough focus on, thus this was born c:

Beautiful Disaster

Word Count: 2,583

Rating: T

Summary: Lusamine is an abusive mother, her heart black and mind rabid with dangerous dreams of destiny. However, she wasn’t always so void of morals; quite the opposite, in fact. It takes quite a traumatic past to corrupt an angel into her sinister counterpart. [A Lusamine-centric overview of her history as well as the Aether Foundation’s]

Lusamine’s heart was, once upon a time, one of overflowing love. Her gentle soul was angelic, admirable, just bursting with kindness as it sought hurt to heal.

She was renowned for her remarkable compassion, it being deemed her most defining and enticing trait. This unparalleled kindness led to swarms of adorers, treasuring her and the calming aura she carried with each soft step against the earth.

She was treated like a saint by strangers; a mere conversation would be enough to fall under her coaxing spell. Of course, Lusamine had also been blessed with a youthful exterior.

Her lithe physique, long locks of golden sunshine, and glowing green eyes may have intrigued passerbys, but it was Lusamine’s pure heart that caused many to revere her. It’s why Mohn married her.

Despite her perceived perfection, too beautiful to be of this world and a compassion rivaled by none, there was yet another factor that made Lusamine beyond mortals’ comprehension.

Lusamine had a brilliant, curious brain. She’d eye a problem, an equation, a mystery, and with ease, the answer would come together like puzzle pieces.

However, her vast Intelligence was often omitted, made irrelevant by her exceptional beauty and caring disposition. Of course, Lusamine’s logic was respected in her work environment, given its scientific purpose.

Even so, as Lusamine contributed to breakthroughs for the good of all Pokemon, compassion was viewed as the main driving force by those around her, all while bearing the form of a gorgeous young lady.

It didn’t matter that her brain functioned like that of a machine. Rather, the attention was, as usual, on the fantastic results of such endeavors: All the time, all the effort, was chalked up to Lusamine’s caring nature instead of her wondrous intellectual mind.

To many, Lusamine wasn’t even human, too above such a dull title and abysmal fate. She was spawned from the sky, an angel among men who’d abandoned the glorious heavens to be marveled at as she aided those in need. A wingless deity with a pure soul, not to mention the IQ surpassing the common genius…

Then her children were born, and everything changed. None of those things that marked Lusamine as heavenly mattered anymore. Only her babies mattered.

Those first moments of existence for Gladion and Lillie, the shallow breaths as their children entered the world and the cries that followed, set the stage for the future. When Lusamine held her perfect children close as Mohn caressed her shoulders, reality froze.

An unforeseen flash captured the family in a still frame. The picture hung in the forefront of Lusamine’s mind, framed and isolated. That day, she sought to claim this bliss for eternity, expanding the feeling of absolute joy across her timeline.

Life was perfect, too perfect to let subside. A certainty cemented itself in Lusamine’s essence: she would enjoy this perfection every day until she dies, still bearing a smile.

After experiencing the utmost level of happiness, Lusamine wasn’t going to let it go so easily.

Perfection was tasted, and she refused to spoil her tongue with anything else. They were a family, so beautiful in their completion. Everything was as it should be. Lusamine didn’t expect it all to be finite.

While studying Ultra Wormholes, Mohn was ripped from his dimension right in front of her. An experiment had erupted into chaos as Lusamine tried with all her strength to pull her husband away, but it was futile. She’d managed to ground herself behind a sturdy column.

Mohn had been less reactive, mesmerized by the wormhole while Lusamine had immediately fled. By the time her husband ran, Lusamine could barely grip his hand before he was sucked into the unknown, forever lost, forever out of reach.

When the wormhole vanished, Lusamine screeched as she fell to her knees, calling for her husband over and over until it sounded like anything but a name. The love of her life was gone in an instant, their children left without a father. They founded the Aether Foundation together, yet the work Mohn had dedicated himself to betrayed him. It wasn’t fair.

This was all that ran through Lusamine’s broken mind when she screamed and pounded on the floor. Wicke and Faba had burst in to find her beating the tile until her hands were bloody. Neither of them could ever erase their boss’s shattered voice from memory.

They’d tried to lift her from the floor so she’d stop harming herself, but Lusamine refused to be moved. Each time Faba and Wicke pulled her up, Lusamine crumbled back down. Eventually, they dropped to either side of Lusamine, stroking her back and waiting for her to explain what had occurred.

The two employees, though very different, met each other’s gaze with the same look of concern as they comforted their sobbing, shaking superior. They were so caught up in Lusamine’s meltdown that they failed to realize that their other boss was nowhere to be found.

The wings of a grounded angel cascaded one by one, abandoning the once seemingly perfect being. Lusamine was crumbling, cracking and crying until her wings were eventually ripped from her back.

She snapped, stripped of all that made her desirable. While her pretty face remained intact, her interior was corrupted. She was still beautiful to the eye but her soul was made ugly, twisted and distorted to the point of obscurity.

Most abandoned her, just as she abandoned kind motives. Ripping it out, taking a bite then stomping on it, Lusamine discarded her broken heart, blackened and useless and slowing her down.

The few who stood by Lusamine were employees, and most feared her. Those with any power within Lusamine’s ranks respected her for the panic she instilled in others, as if she did so by reaching into one’s chest and applying the pressure directly onto their heart.

Faba was one of those who idolized her. The Branch Director had always hungered for authority, and Lusamine was ripe with it from the start. Before, she ruled through inspiration, which is admirable in its own way, but Lusamine’s shift to an iron fist left Faba with no complaints.

How could he mind it? After all, Faba may be sneaky and influential when need be, but such magnificent brute strength was quite a sight to behold. He respected Lusamine before because he had to, given his position underneath her.

Then, like how most had been before her change, Faba was drawn to Lusamine like a marveled moth knowing flying into an unsympathetic flame. Lusamine didn’t simply fall apart when her husband was snatched from her grasp despite how easy it would’ve been.

No, Lusamine toughened up and got to work, doing whatever she could to get him back while crushing those that dared to slow her down. That’s the type of person Faba can proudly state his allegiance to, unlike the soft-hearted pushover Lusamine had once been.

On the other hand, Wicke was one of the few who was neither terrorized or in awe of Lusamine. Wicke attempted to replicate her boss’ once tranquil presence. Sure, the atmosphere she paraded around each floor of the foundation was warm and healing and gentle.

Wicke may have been a descendant of fae at most, her marvelous qualities stemming from mythical origins, but Lusamine was a goddamn angel. At least, she had been an angel, once.

Regardless, Wicke could never compare to the deity among men Lusamine had been, and in a way still is. Her soul was tainted, yes, painted black by bitterness and despair. While no longer a heart of heaven, a demon is still deserving of awe when compared to the mediocrity that is mankind.

All in all, she didn’t let herself latch onto what anyone else thought of her anymore: she didn’t need their opinions to get her husband back. Mohn needed her objective and alert; anything else was unnecessary. Nevertheless, a low growl always toppled out Lusamine’s lips when she spotted Wicke offering someone a hug, advice, or a shoulder to cry on.

Lusamine may’ve left all that behind, but seeing someone essentially replace you isn’t the greatest feeling. Not to mention when that replacement is less than subpar, though it’s not fair to Wicke to say so. After all, there’s no comparison between a queen and a goddess.

Lusamine thought, at the very least, she’d have Gladion and Lillie. Her sweet, obedient children would comfort her, praise and admire her as she spent every waking minute on saving Mohn.

They were supposed to keep her somewhat sane, grounded enough to focus. Instead, they betrayed her as well, tossing Lusamine aside when her halo shattered, the pieces contorting into horns. Thorns sprouted out of her stem, pricking those who once found peace in her embrace.

Fine, Lusamine didn’t need them. She didn’t need anybody! Her studies of the Ultra Beasts and their wormholes were finally bearing fruit after about a decade. One way or another, Lusamine’s quest to locate Mohn would soon come to an end.

Returning to consciousness, the scientist cracks her eyes open. She immediately regrets it. Not only is the sight of anything but blackness agonizing, but the room is drenched in absolute white.

The overbearing amount of it blinds Lusamine, and she groans through the oncoming pain thundering in her skull. Squeezing her eyes shut for half a minute, she tries again, though with more caution. At least she’s prepared for the searing sensation that’s to come.

Lusamine anticipates the unavoidable pain from her brilliant environment, but she’s an intellectual. The throbbing need to know the details of her situation outweighs the desire to fall back into a kinder, oblivious unconsciousness.

Her curiosity burns much as her assaulted irises. She gnaws on her lip through the pain as Lusamine attempts to raise her eyelids further bit by bit.

Fingers claw at the material beneath them. Thin cloth curls under her intense grip, though the odd texture peeks her already raging curiosity. Uncurling her fingers, Lusamine runs her hand over the fabric.

Gritting her teeth, she lowers her gaze away from what’s directly in front of her to the bed. It’s a specific type, one that Lusamine hasn’t experienced since…

Since childbirth. Lusamine manages to open her eyes fully, brow furrowed as she gapes at the hospital bed. She can’t help the immediate disdain that sours her mouth when she spots her hideous paper bag of a gown. Why…is she here? What happened to her?

Lusamine’s unforgiving headache punishes her soon as she tries to recall any recent memories. Using any extra brain power isn’t worth the agony, so she returns to her original quest: analyze her surroundings.

The bed and thin, teal gown give away where she is, but she’s desperate for more information when left with so little outside of that. Peeping from under her eyelashes, Lusamine notes the expected: white sheets, white walls, white furniture.

The room is pure as her angel wings had once been. Although, the white of the room portrays anything but purity. It’s more of a lack of color, devoid of passion, joy, and life itself.

Dull and soul-sucking and somehow so bleak in its blankness. Lusamine’s weakened state has made her even paler, almost ghost like as she blends into the monotonous background.

At the same time it’s bright, scorching Lusamine’s eyes, existing as the opposite of oblivion. It empowers the hammering within her head to stare anywhere and at anything in the room.

The paint gleams as rays of the sun exacerbate its shine, protruding through a window that consists of almost the entire back wall. Lusamine can barely take it any longer, eyes watering as they cry out for her to show them mercy by shutting them, but she doesn’t.

The tears streaming down her face don’t stop her. Her blurred vision manages to pick up the IV embedded in her left arm, and the outlines of contrasting items on the bedside table to her right. The shapes become more clear after Lusamine sets her gaze on the stark objects, willing her mind to settle and focus.

Several more seconds allow her to make out the assortment of flowers, stuffed Pokemon and cards piled atop the small table. Leaning towards them, Lusamine finds that a few have even fallen onto the ivory tiles due to the little space and the sheer amount of trinkets awaiting her upon waking.

Her stare is blank as she reaches for a toy Teddiursa. Lusamine drops it onto her lap, gaze flickering up and down the one of many similar get well gifts.

Get well from what, Lusamine wonders, though a sharp pain in her skull cuts off that thought train. She clutches the soft, eternally smiling bear tighter and tighter like a lifeline. Fingers threaten to strangle it, grip demanding answers that she’s unable to ponder on her own.

Propping it beside her, Lusamine ignores the few other knick knacks on the floor and grabs one of the cards off the countertop. An elementary poem about the strength behind recovery is printed inside, along with the names of several Aether Foundation employees on every inch.

They’re not many in the mess that she recognizes, but there’s enough that she realizes that these are the lowest ranking peoples in the branch. So they couldn’t even bother to buy separate cards…

Lusamine snatches another from the table, finding a similar set of stanzas inside. Although, unlike the previous card, this one is less than twenty signatures. Faba’s cursive and Wicke’s blocky handwriting with a heart instead of a dot on the ‘i’ are found underneath the printed text.

She doesn’t spare it a second glance as she grabs one more card. Her eyes are dull, unsuspecting when Lusamine opens it, doing so just to pass the time and sate her incensed curiosity.

What Lusamine finds wracks her already disheveled mind. A sharp inhale burns her dry throat. Inside is a polaroid picture of Lillie and Gladion smiling shoulder to shoulder, along with sweet messages and their signatures underneath.

It all comes crashing back into her in a single wave. Memories of the Ultra Beasts, being merged with one, Lillie’s distraught expression as she begged her mother to stop. Somehow, what sticks out most of all is her daughter’s defiance, the determination behind her hardened green eyes, her mother’s matching eyes.

Lusamine drags a hand across her face, tears forming again. Despite the rivers flowing down her cheeks, Lusamine can’t pinpoint why she’s suddenly so overwhelmed. Grief over what she’d become and the people she pushed away in the process.

Shame from letting herself be blinded by her search for Mohn that she disregarded the legacy they shared as husband and wife, their precious children. Longing to embrace her babies, knowing how much they’ve suffered.

Lusamine lost her husband, but because of her distorted desperation to be reunited with him, Lillie and Gladion lost both their parents.

They seem to have forgiven her last Lusamine can remember. However, being able to forgive herself is a whole other venture.

What wonderful children they’ve become without her. They’re kind enough to give a monster like Lusamine a second chance even when she believes herself beyond redemption.

“When did you both become so beautiful?”

Maybe if Lillie and Gladion see something worth saving in Lusamine, it just might be plausible. With a small smile, she raises the picture to her lips, kissing both of her babies’ static foreheads.

“Maybe I can be beautiful again…”

#pokemon #zine #lillie pokemon #gladion #lusamine #pkmn #pokemon wicke #faba pokemon #aether foundation #zine piece

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candi-girl · 6 years ago

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KH3: Hollower Than Any Toy Review **Minor Spoilers**

I just beat KH3 yesterday. I came out of it feeling a bit disappointed. The game is beautiful and the mechanics are still fun but everything from the story to the boss fights felt a bit lackluster. The last boss fights were extremely easy and did not feel as epic to me as KH2's last boss fights. In fact, I liked KH2's ending way more. I haven't played KH2 in years and I still remember exactly how it goes and how I felt after beating it. After what felt like an eternity of reflecting and deflecting light beams back at Xemnas, Sora and a badly wounded Riku sit hopelessly on the shores of the Realm of Darkness. Suddenly a letter in a bottle with a familiar seal emerges from the dark sea. A light shines, a slowed down piano version of "Sanctuary" plays and we are back in the welcoming and colorful world of Destiny Islands. Donald and Goofy lovingly embrace Sora. His eyes then lock-on to Kairi's, Roxas and Namine's eyes follow suit. This felt wayyyy more emotional than KH3's ending which I struggle to remember even though I beat it today.

Before I go any further, I feel I must preface this especially for a post about KH. No, I haven’t played all the spin-off games but I AM A PASSIONATE FAN of the main games in the series. I played the first one for PS2 at 11 when it came out and I was absolutely blown away and in love. I played KH2 at about 14 and got sucked in all over again. In college, I would play Birth By Sleep in between classes. I played 1.5 for PS3 sometime in college as well. Most recently at 27, I played 0.2 from the "The Story So Far" bundle for PS4. I have tried playing Chain of Memories numerous times on an emulator but couldn't stand the Card System and never got very far or finished it. I've also tried 358/2 on an emulator and I've even tried watching it but never got far with it either. I have skipped Re-coded altogether and as soon as I saw the Dream Eaters Link mechanic in DDD I stopped playing that too. I have played a little bit of the mobile KH game but not for long. Suffice it to say, I'm not into mobile games or games for portable devices. The only 2 games I can recall that I have beaten on a portable device (besides Pokemon games on Gameboy) are Birth By Sleep and FFVII: Crisis Core (both PSP). Generally, I get more immersed in games on a TV screen.

Okay so background out of the way, here is what bothers me about KH3 and probably why KH3's ending didn't make me feel as much as KH2's ending. And let me just say, I know this might not be a problem for others who have played all the games, read all the news and external books, probably follow Nomura on Twitter but I don't do that. When it comes to gaming, here is my process: I see a cool game, I want it, I buy it, I play it, I judge whether I like it based on the content in the game, nothing external. I don't follow any gaming news or actively pursue it. If I happen to have the time I’ll watch E3 and hear about things here and there but mostly, when I pick-up a game, I'm hoping it can be self-contained. So, knowing that about me, you can see why I absolutely loathe that if you haven't played KH DDD, KH Recoded, KH 358/2 Days, KH X (the Foretellers lore stuff) you're missing out on like 3/4 of the story.

Chain of Memories being between KH1 and KH2 irked me but I forgave it because the characters and story were still basically the same. Lock keyholes to protect various worlds from being consumed by darkness, help characters in those various worlds with their problem, stop main baddy from opening up Kingdom Hearts, and don't forget that friends are your strength and light. Nothing is wrong with keeping a story “Simple and Clean” and in fact, I think if a story is simple you can focus on making stronger character arcs and make the game super character driven so that the dangerous stuff that happens to characters IS actually scary and emotional! (Side Note: I also believe that because of the association with Disney, the KH franchise feels like it cannot tackle more mature themes like actual death of loved ones, failure, betrayal, etc. which really holds back what a game about the Heart could explore in a more serious, sophisticated manner. However, games like “Ni No Kuni” still find ways to talk about death, depression and grief in ways that are appropriate for younger audiences so it’s possible to do it, KH!)

And I know that KH3 pokes fun at itself for having so many different titles in the franchise and I know it tries to get you up to speed but it cheapens the experience when SO MUCH of the story-telling and lore heavily relies on externalities and not the self-contained game. It seriously becomes a hindrance and emotional barrier when #1 I don't know know what's going on (or don’t understand/feel the extent and impact of something that's supposed to be dangerous), #2 don't know characters well enough to care about them and #3 there are no real stakes in the KH world because every game you fight the same goddamn enemies. I don't know all the Organization members like the back of my hand so their deaths don't do anything for me plus you fight them at least twice throughout the series (maybe even more) so that shows that they can always come back. The rules and logic in KH are very fast and loose. It's like playing a game with a child and when they are losing they make something up. And all this "I think I should know this character but I don't remember" dialogue is so cheap. Stop with the amnesia story-lines! Games like Chain of Memories and Re-Coded, that are made for portable devices are made to hold fans over until the big main game comes out. Let’s be real, KH: Re-Coded might as well be called “KH: Re-Sell” because it’s KH one all over again but on the DS. Now there’s nothing wrong with a company re-branding and re-selling a product if they know fully-well that there is a market for it (in the words of Cutler Beckett, “it’s just good business”) but for the love of all things good, DO NOT PLACE INTEGRAL plot points in them that the main games will gloss over. And don't expect me to read Jiminy’s Journal!

Who is this game for? It plays like a casual game but feels like beginning a story at it’s falling action point. I can’t imagine being a newcomer to this series and playing this game and understanding it. I played the game super slowly, exploring each Disney world thoroughly, trying to take it all in but there is so little KH story given throughout the game. Once I moved on to the Badlands, the actual main KH plot began to unfold. When I first started playing KH3, my gf (who has only played a few hours of the first KH) asked me "so why are you going to other worlds if you're not locking keyholes?" I stumbled on my words to give her an answer. I replied "Sora needs to regain his strength and get the power of waking." She nodded but I knew it sounded kind of stupid. "He looks pretty powerful already!" She said as she watched me defeat hordes of enemies in the first world, Olympus. And that was another thing. I felt super overpowered from the beginning all the way up until the end. When fighting Xehanort all I could think was "that's it?" The game is all about Sora regaining his lost powers and learning the power of waking but you start off super powerful anyway.

This may be a bit of a tangent but in Final Fantasy X, Yuna started off as the weakest, most feeble, docile character in personality and combat as she is just a white mage. I avoided using her at all costs. I had Lulu for black magic and switched Yuna in only when I really needed Protective magic or healing. However, by the end of the game, Yuna with her fully decked out Nirvana staff, third tier white and black magic, double-cast, and ultima became my most valuable and dangerous character. Not only does she literally become stronger in combat, but her (dare I say it) heart becomes stronger too. She becomes bolder and braver. She starts questioning her religion and the society and world she grew up in. She grows in every sense of the word. Yuna’s character trajectory is one of the most poetic I’ve ever seen and experienced in a game and I absolutely love that it’s FELT both in the combat of the game AND the story. I guess the point I’m trying to make is there should be growth in the character’s development but also growth in the game mechanics and combat. FFX is a game that intertwined both forms of growth organically and I think KH3 really should’ve done that as well. Starting off weak and THEN becoming powerful enough to take on the big baddy in the ending rewards the players for their efforts and also feels way more satisfying. Also, a certain character that begins with “K” and ends with “airi” could’ve EASILY been the Yuna of this game. But once again KH3 repeats the same old ideas over and over again. Also, speaking of Final Fantasy, where are my Final Fantasy characters in KH3??

I know this sounds like a negative review but overall, I actually did enjoy playing KH3 and it was great to see all my favs and like I always say, it always feels like home. I'm definitely not done yet (gotta synthesize ultima, collect all treasures and lucky emblems, reach level 99, and maybe play some mini-games). But ultimately it did not have that emotional impact on me like the first 2 KH's. Maybe I AM too old and broken. Maybe when I replay it one day I'll feel differently. Anyway, see you in 2040 when KH4 comes out!

#kh spoilers #kh3 spoilers #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts 3 #kh3 #kh3 review #personal

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seungcheolrk · 7 years ago

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● SPHERE NOVEMBER EVALUATION: INTERROGATION !

NOVEMBER 30TH, 2017 A MOCK INTERVIEW

he’s almost embarrassed to admit how nervous he is for the end of the month— perhaps more so than he has been for an evaluation in a long time, if ever. after all, it’s no secret that talking is not seungcheol’s forte.

it has to be said, however, that amongst all the nerves is a building excitement. the particularly appropriate challenge for this month’s stressful final day only serves as a reminder of what’s to come — endless grilling from the public, perfecting answers to questions he should never have to expect and, thus, of course, debut. momentarily, his mind wanders to his million curiosities about how it’ll all unfold, but he doesn’t allow it to stray too far, since they’re about to start and seungcheol already knows that actually listening is the most important part of an interview.

his coach makes himself comfortable in the seat opposite him, prepared with questions hidden to seungcheol’s eye. ( though, admittedly, as tempting as it might be, seungcheol is far too scared of being caught to have even tried sneaking a peek. ) anything could be written on those papers, and whilst seungcheol doesn’t think he’s ever done anything to be challenged on in an unanswerable question, it doesn’t hurt to anticipate the worst. he’ll either get what he expected or be pleasantly surprised to be spared; isn’t that foolproof? he supposes he’ll find out.

“please introduce yourself.”

easy enough, he thinks. “h-hello! I’m s.coups, o-one of convex’s m-main rappers.” he hesitates to playfully add ‘dancing black hole’, but quickly decides against it. it’s difficult to get his tone across when he’s stumbling over his words like this and he’d rather not be misinterpreted. still, he knows he can’t leave it at that — it’s far too plain, tells the coach nothing about him as a person or a performer. he inwardly cringes as he considers his trainee title as a last resort after he’s left too long of a pause between answers, but the moment has passed before he can think of anything else.

“we hear you’re ‘sphere’s scaredy cat’. where did this come from?”

he supposes it’s wishful thinking to think he’ll ever escape it. he doesn’t mind it too much; after all, he gave himself the name. he just doesn’t want it to be his only identity after debut. he’s much more than a scaredy cat, really. “I get st-startled v-very easily.” he breathes out a weak chuckle. “l-loud noises, mostly, so y-you can imagine w-what it’s l-like for me living in a d-dorm of th-thirteen.” speculation, of course, but he doesn’t think it’ll be far off the truth.

“it’s becoming expected now for rappers to write their own lyrics. you don’t. why?”

he sucks in a deep breath. “for a long time, I’ve been p-passionate about making rap more acc-accessible to all. I w-want to rid the industry of th-this idea that you ha-have you have an extensive b-background in underground r-rapping to be a rapper. o-of course, if you h-have that, that’s great, b-b-b-but— I think it discourages a lot of y-young people from pursuing rap.” his eyes widen in panic, wondering if he’s perhaps talking too much or even sounding judgemental to those who have that experience under their belt. of course, he doesn’t mean any harm by his comments; he can’t help that his own experiences with underground rappers has so often been sour. “I want to be a g-great idol rapper, so I c-can inspire mo-more future idols to feel c-confident in their skills.”

“we heard that you sang for your audition, though. if rap is so important to you, why did you sing?”

“singing is important to me, too.” he answers evenly, the first sentence to come out free of trembles. maybe it’s because it feels like an attack, like he can’t be passionate about more than one thing, like he’s being accused of being unfocused, indecisive. “I’m v-versatile musically. rap is my f-focus, but I have a lot of tr-tricks up my sleeve I h-hope to show more as time passes. at the time, I had o-only singing publicly for a f-few months, so it fe-felt right to h-honour that new e-era of my life.”

“you also sing monthly on your youtube channel, right? can you tell us more about that? we’re all curious who WZ is.”

he laughs heartily, a soft pink dusting his cheeks. he wonders if they truly feel as if they’re catching him out here; as if he’s going to stumble ( not too much of a stretch to believe ) over an excuse for ‘WZ’s identity, but the real truth is— “WZ is convex’s shortest lead dancer, lee jihoon!” it’s rather noticeable how his stutter drops immediately at the mention of his best friend, and even more obvious how his features light up and his shoulders relax. his hands hidden under the table have stopped rubbing against one another, instead animatedly gesturing as he speaks. “we share a love for gfriend’s music, so I decided to dedicate the first cover of my monthly project to him. it’s also one of the two videos I showed him when I told him about the channel and my past with singing, so it has a lot of sentimental value.” his eyes curve as he pauses for a few beats. “my monthly project started as a way to ensure I uploaded semi-regularly on that channel,” and a way to keep sane through the rollercoaster that was 2016, he bites his tongue, “but it’s also now a testament to my growth both musically and personally over the past— wow, almost two years. you can see how I’ve matured from the early days, writing out raps to avoid bringing my two worlds together, to now. there’s so much more vibrancy in my covers now, even if I do have to record them late at night after training.” he chuckles, running a hand through his hair, hoping his blush isn’t too obvious.

“speaking of jihoon, you two seem to be close. you’ve both posted about each other on instagram and you speak very fondly of him.”

“jihoon and I have been best friends for almost four years. we’re— kind of opposites in a lot of ways and that’s why we work so well together. jihoon’s helped me through a lot, and he’s helped me to get closer with the other convex boys, whether he realises it or not.” he has a proud grin on his gentle features as he thinks to the endless encouragement the younger gives him, the unconditional support and patience. he nods softly. “it’s through his friendship that I’ve grown more confident in myself and learnt to take risks. where he is brave, I am cowardly, and where I am gentle, he can be unintentionally sharp. he has an attention to detail I don’t, and I have a nagging voice he sometimes needs. we’re always helping one another grow to be better and better versions of ourselves.” he hums quietly. “I have lots to learn from every member of convex; charisma from hyun, dance from the performance unit—” he pales, realising he’d uttered the word he’d been trying to avoid.

“it’s no secret that dance isn’t your strong point. in a predebut performance in july, you fell a lot. do you think you’ve improved since then?”

they really don’t hold back, he thinks, blinking once, twice, before he snaps back to reality. july is still a month he doesn’t really enjoy looking back on, and that much must be obvious, or he doubts they’d have honed in on it specifically. “I d-definitely still have a long way to go,” he admits, “but it’s something my interest in is growing in ra-rapidly. I’ve been working on it a lot recently, so please anticipate my next stage! you’ll see!” he smiles brightly, sighing inwardly in relief.

“you didn’t take the college entrance exams, correct? so if you weren’t an idol, what would you be doing?”

“music.” he answers immediately, not a moment of hesitation. “being an idol is the path th-through music that I want more than anything, but it’s not the only path. I have an interest in classical music, too, and a particularly strong interest in movie scores. my family also own a music store, so I would find a way to be part of music somehow.” he nods, adding quietly, “it’s my destiny.”

“why do you think you deserve to debut?”

“hard work, dedication and passion; just like everyone else. everyone deserves to debut if their heart is in it.” it’s probably not the answer he should be giving. maybe he should be selling himself, talking about how he alone has worked hard and how baek jiyoung deems him ready and he feels it in his bones, too, that this is the right time, but it’s not in his nature. he knows idols are supposed to lie from time to time— white lies for the sake of image aren’t foreign to him, but had he or had he not worked so hard to rid himself of that? to be honest? he doesn’t think he has a personality that’s particularly un-idol-friendly, so maybe he’s reasonably safe. maybe his white lies can be about ideal types and how easy he is to wake up in the morning. we’ll see, he thinks.

“finally, what are your goals for the future? do you want to have a solo career on the side one day? perhaps acting or modelling? radio hosting?”

“my only goal is to continue to better myself for fans and for the other boys; to be the best performer I can each and every time I step on stage, and never to give up or falter. I want to help convex grow to being a highly respected name; a group that is known for their charms and performance skills. anything beyond that, solo activities, modelling contracts, for myself alone are bonuses.” still, he laughs softly as he adds, “that being said, I’d really love to go on king of masked singer, or something similar, one day.”

once he’s finished talking and the coach clicks the lid shut on his pen, he breathes a sigh of relief. he doesn’t doubt that he’ll launch into a full analysis of his performance in a few minutes, once he’s organised his criticisms into a more natural order, but for now, he can’t say he doesn’t expect the obvious, “you definitely need to work on that stutter,” that fills the stifling silence.

“I’m w-w-working on it.”

the coach doesn’t make eye contact as he adds, “and to think you considered yourself a contender as a leader with it.” he bites his bottom lip nervously, hands returning to rubbing against one another under the table. it’s not a statement he’s undeserving of and perhaps that’s why it stings so much more than he expects at first, digging into his confidence and dragging it into the ground. he wants to argue, clarify that he didn’t explicitly name himself for it, he simply laid everything on the table, said he’d do anything because he would— if it meant pleasing everyone, he’d do it— but it’s not worth it. he has to develop a thick skin, anyway, right? then comments like this ( and worse ) won’t hurt so much after debut.

he can see it now: convex’s black hole, convex’s unlucky number 13. he chews through the skin.

his pride was fun while it lasted, at least.

#rknov17eval #jihoonrk #cheol;solo #cheol;sphere #cheol;eval #( +3 charisma )#( +2 debut )#( wc; 1912 )#( jihoon is heavily mentioned so!! )

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littlemissnack · 5 years ago

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The Next Generation Part 3 Chapter 10

The story of Albus Potter, Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy, and the countless adventure’s they get into in there years at Hogwarts.

To start reading from the beginning click here: http://littlemissnack.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfiction

Here is the fanfiction link if you would prefer to read it on there: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9303697/1/The-Next-Generation

And AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/807773 Or if you prefer to read it on here, here you go:

And Movellas: https://www.movellas.com/story/201309292252551812-the-next-generation

After Sienna’s revelation the gang had began exploring the edges of the forbidden forest in hopes of find Morana. After Albus reminded everybody about the man that had attacked him for his ‘mistress’ it became clear to the group that they were servants of Morana. Rose devised a careful schedule that allowed for Albus and Thalia to spend as much time as possible on the journal and her, Scorpius & Sienna to patrol the edges of the forest in case there were any more trespassers. Rose had everybody’s day scheduled down to the minute in order to allow time for examining the journal, patrolling the borders of the grounds, classes, homework, food (with the unfortunate sacrifice of certain meals a day) and a few hours of sleep a night. At first Albus thought this to be completely over the top but when he found himself barely awake in his 3pm potions class with no clue whether he had a free period for journal study in the common room, quidditch practice or his allotted eating time he found himself thankful for Rose’s colour coded schedule.

As the looming celebrations got closer and closer Albus became more and more thankful for the welcome distraction from thinking about, what felt to Albus, a glorified press conference with his parents Infront of the entire school. Rose on the other hand had gone into full planning mode, preparing her outfit, preparation interview questions for when the paparazzi inevitably hounded her and various poses and outfits to be photographed in on top of all her other commitments. Rose often prided herself in her time management skills and wonders how she’d cope with being the daughter of the minister of magic without it. Scorpius wasn’t worried about the upcoming events however, as he had already planned his escape to the room of requirement as soon as the inevitable questions about his death eater father came. at least he didn’t have to worry about his father being there like Albus did, it was clear his father wasn’t welcome here.

With Albus and Thalia completely preoccupied with journal deciphering in their free time and Rose in full on preparation mode without a moment to spare, Scorpius found himself left with Sienna often. Scorpius held nothing against Sienna, but he hadn’t spent an awful lot of time with Sienna, of course they’d had their group meetings together, but she was mostly focused on Albus during this time and they hadn’t really been alone a lot. But now with Rose’s scheduling system it meant that Scorpius, Sienna and Rose rotated patrol in pairs, so Scorpius had many hours now patrolling with just Sienna, which Scorpius found were the quietest times. When he patrolled with Rose she almost couldn’t seem to shut up, discussing theories as well as their upcoming homework and exams came naturally with Rose, it was easy for Scorpius to talk to her. But Sienna and he had little to talk about, every now and again one of them would attempt small talk but it never got far, that is until the particularly hot summers day the day before the celebration when Scorpius and Sienna were patrolling in between there care of magical creatures and Ancient Runes exams. As they were approaching the boating house Sienna unexpectedly turned to him in another attempt to make small talk and asked,

“Excited for tomorrow?” Scorpius could see it was just another attempt to make their patrol more exciting but as with all their attempts at conversation, they had little to talk about.

“I’m not going, I’ll make a quick appearance, watch Albus’ Dads’ speech then I’ll head up to the room of requirement for the rest.” Sienna’s eyes narrowed slightly in confusion as they sat down on the boat house steps as Rose instructed them to do while patrolling the perimeter.

“Why? Everyone’s talking about how epic it’s going to be. There’s supposed to the grandest feast hogwarts has ever seen, and I saw Harlow setting up the quidditch pitch earlier so you know there’s going to be some kind of contest, and Penny swears she overheard Longbottom and Hart discussing a fireworks display…” Sienna rambled to try to fill the silence but was quietened by Scorpius’ response.

“And a bunch of press. Forget the feast, the only thing we know for certain that will be there are press. I don’t really feel like getting a camera shoved in my face and being asked if I’m a death eater, or if my father approves of my Gryffindor lifestyle, or where my mother is” Sienna was quieted for a moment before smiling slightly and asking.

“Don’t know why they’d bother asking you that when your scandalous love affairs are far more interesting! Who wants to read about politics and death eaters when you could read about a torrid affair between you and Rose and Albus!” Scorpius snorted as he laughed with her for the first time in what felt like a long time.

“Me, Rose and Albus!?”

“Oh, come on! You know that slimy Rita Skeeter been all over you, Rose and Albus’ friendship since you all started Hogwarts, it’s only a matter of time before she starts reporting about how your breaking Rose’s heart with your romantic rendezvous’ with Albus!” Sienna held her arms out as if she were imagining a newspaper title “I can see it now ‘Malfoy caught with Potter in a secret shameful love affair breaking Weasley’s heart!’” Scorpius was laughing down to his core now, desperately trying to catch him breath as he and Sienna were nearly doubled over in stitches.

“Oi you’d better watch it tomorrow, if you get caught with Albus you’ll be the Slytherin temptress ruining his heroic Destiny” Scorpius countered making Sienna almost choke with laughter. As the continued to imagine various newspaper headline and the imaginary stories the press would run with them it was 17 minutes after there expected leave time from there post that Sienna and Scorpius finally calmed down and realised how late they were. As they began walking along the lake Sienna turned to Scorpius to ask,

“You can’t let the rubbish they write effect you. None of what they write matters. You’re a good person and you’ve got friends that have your back and that’s all that matters, not the way a bunch of idiots who hang onto the Daily Prophet’s every word sees you as. You should come tomorrow, have fun.” Scorpius was thrown by Sienna’s profound insight and was once again reminded of how much of a mystery she was to him.

“Thanks. But It’s not so much the fact that the press will be there but the fact that it’s just another reminder of who’s not.” Scorpius looked down at his feet as he tried to regain his composure.

��Look I know what it’s like to get constantly reminded of what you don’t have, believe me I get it. But at some point you have to stop focusing on the fact that you don’t have a mum and focus on the fact that you’ve got us, stop fixating how you don’t have a dad and remember that you have Teddy and the Weasley. You could spend your entire life feeling jealous of what you don’t have but you’ll never be able to appreciate everything you do. At some point parents stop mattering as much as having a support system around you to call family. Couse we’re each other’s family now, you, me Rose, Albus & Thalia were a family, we’ve got each other’s backs. So yeah, your parents aren’t there but who needs them!? Your family will be there with you.” Scorpius studied Sienna’s firm expression and it became clear that this talk wasn’t just for him.

“Are your parents not coming either?” Scorpius tentatively asked, he knew how well prying into Sienna’s private life usually went.

“Don’t have any. Care home kid.” She responded he pace quickening, so she was slightly ahead of him.

“Oh…. I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

“Don’t be sorry, can’t miss what you never had.”

“But you can miss the idea of it. The idea of that perfect family life you always imagined having, parents to come home too in their little cosy house, you can miss the idea of a family without ever actually having one.” Scorpius thought about all the times he’d imagined what it would be like to live in a simple little cottage with his parents tucking him in and reading him stories and healing scraped knees. The memory of all those nights spent wondering still stung Scorpius today. Sienna’s face softened as she allowed Scorpius to catch up with her and Scorpius wondered if she too and stayed up at night imagining what a real family might feel like.

“Yeah not having parents sucks. Especially on days like tomorrow when you look around at everyone with the perfect happy little families and wonder why you don’t get to have that. And as much as I like Albus seeing the way he complains about his parents just makes me want to rip his head off…”

“It’s like he doesn’t even realise how lucky he is! He has a mum and a dad that just want to love and care for him and he doesn’t even appreciate it!” Scorpius interrupted finishing Sienna’s thought.

“Exactly! I can’t even listen when he’s in his whiny complain about his dad mode! Like he expects us to feel sorry for him because his dad loves him too much!” Sienna rolled her eyes.

“I thought you liked Albus?” Scorpius dared to be brave now that Sienna’s guard was lowering to try and figure out more about what was going on with Sienna and Albus.

“I do.” Sienna saw the analysis on Scorpius’ face and raised her eyebrow in defiance. “Just because he’s cute doesn’t mean I can’t also find him annoying, I thought you and freckles would understand that blondie!” Sienna smirked.

“Rose… no… we’re not... I mean...” Scorpius looked over at Sienna’s smug face and realised how pointless denial would be at this point. “Rose doesn’t think of me like that.” Scorpius sighed in defeat.

“Rose doesn’t think of anybody like that right now. She’s so wrapped up in organising and scheduling and schoolwork to see anything else. Doesn’t mean she doesn’t have feelings though.” Scorpius tried to hide the optimism in his face, but he judged by Sienna’s smirk that he hadn’t done a great job.

“So, if you think Albus is so cute why haven’t you made your move yet?” Scorpius countered to try to let the blush in his face go down.

“Same reason you’re not making your move on freckles. He’s too busy with that stupid journal and Thalia to take a second look at me right now.” Sienna noticed the look of silent judgement on Scorpius’ face and her eyebrows knitted together in frustration. “What!?”

“Oh, come on! That’s such a load of rubbish!” Sienna opened her mouth to protest but Scorpius cut her off before she could even continue.

“If you’re so wise about MY love life, you tell me mister know it all why haven’t I told him yet?” Scorpius studied her face for a moment, challenge and defiance written all over it.

“You’re scared. You’re scared he might turn you down. You’re scared of letting someone in, only to have your heart shattered. You’re not holding back because he’s so busy, you’re holding back because he’s been so busy with Thalia. Your worried that you might tell him how you feel only to have him reject you for Thalia. You can act as tough as you want but your just as scared of rejection as the rest of us!” Sienna was stunned into silence for half a moment before taking a deep breath and raising his hand ready to object but as Scorpius looked at her with his eyebrow raised in challenge, Sienna realised it was pointless, after all the stuff she’d already said to Scorpius today what was one more secret. So, against her better judgement Sienna sighed as her body deflated. No words seemed to be able to leave her mouth as Scorpius met her eyes and all the was able to do was shrug.

“it’s okay to let yourself be open with him. You may get your heart broken, you may not, but the important thing is you tried. You gave it a shot which means you won’t spend your life wondering what could have happened. It’s okay to let yourself be vulnerable every now and again. You don’t have to keep this guard up.” Scorpius placed his hand on her shoulder as he sat next to her against the quidditch pitch which was there next designated post on patrol. Scorpius thought Sienna might cry he’d never seen her show this much emotion. Sienna seemed incapable of words as she feared the second, she opened her mouth her body might betray her, and the tears may fall instead.

“I mean if you never give it a shot, you’ll never get to be the slytherin temptress pulling him away from his torrid love affair with me! What will the papers write about then!” Sienna couldn’t help but laugh as a few tears escaped down her cheeks and she quickly brushed them away.

“You’re such a hypocrite Blondie! You’re telling me what to do when your too cowardly to tell Freckles you dream about her every night!” Sienna rolled her eyes trying her best to deflect from the heavy stuff Scorpius had said that was still sitting in her chest.

“Hey! That makes me sound like a lovesick puppy… I’m not that desperate…” Sienna raised a knowing eyebrow, Scorpius started to protest before letting out a big groan. “I’m pretty pathetic, aren’t I?”

“Pretty pathetic? You’re a mess!” Sienna and Scorpius laughed.

“She’s just so driven, especially with everything going on lately… I just don’t want it to get in the way for her…” Sienna rolled her eyes in disbelieve

“Dude! You gotta toughen up! Rose Weasley is a headstrong badass, that girl will eat you alive if you don’t Gryffindor up! Freckles needs someone who can’t be bossed around by her. She needs someone to bring her back when she goes to far and push her when she starts to doubt herself, if your gunna stop pining after her and start being with her your gunna have to be brave enough to stop letting her tell you what to do all the time! If I recall in first year you didn’t take any of her bossy stuff, what happened to that?” Scorpius thought back to first year for a moment, how frustratingly stubborn Rose had been and how he’d stuck his ground against it. It was different then; she wasn’t like she was now… or maybe he wasn’t. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something had changed.

“It was different back then…”

“Look do you want to be Rose Weasley’s boyfriend?”

“Yes” Scorpius reluctantly admitted

“Then you need to stop letting her treat you like your little pet and make her realise you’re here and a viable option. And that starts with telling her how you feel, even if she’s too busy to hear it. Put yourself out there.” Scorpius realised she was right as he thought back to the many times he’d put her first without even thinking of his own feelings, now was the one time he needed to think about himself and stop thinking about whether it inconvenienced Rose and tell her how he felt.

“I will if you will.” Scorpius challenged. Sienna read his face for a moment realising how serious he was.

“Okay fine. By the end of the summer, I’ll tell Albus if you tell Rose.”

“Deal.” Scorpius and Sienna shook hands and for the first time Scorpius wondered how he and Sienna had avoided properly talking up until now. She felt like the first person to really be able to understand what he was going through; he felt a kinship with Sienna he hadn’t felt with anybody else. Maybe this was what it felt like to have a sister, someone to always have your back even when she’d constantly annoying you.

“Come on Blondie, if we waste anymore time Freckles is going to have us hung, drawn and quartered by the school gates!”

“I don’t get it! Why do you keep calling me Blondie, your blonde too!” Scorpius finally spoke up about the question that had been bugging him since he met her. Sienna laughed as he leant up to put her arm around his shoulder and rustle his hair.

“I have my reasons, not that you’ll ever find them out, Blondie.”

The next morning the Hogwarts ground became entirely unrecognizable almost over night. Banners, streamers & balloons had filled the grounds, the quidditch pitch had been transformed into a competition and entertainment ground with a duelling ground on the one side, a wizard on a pedestal doing various transfiguration tricks to an impressed group of children, a flying display from the English national quidditch team and various other attractions, mainly designed to keep the large number of young children and teenagers occupied. Between the pitch and the castle a multitude of tables of covered in every food and drink known to man had been prepared, thousands of blanket and sun blocking umbrellas had been set out next to it for families to sit and eat the prepared food in a picnic style. At the base grounds of the castle a podium had been set up ready for the number of speakers the ministry had managed to procure, highlights included the opening speech by Minister for magic herself, Hermione Granger, a message on the importance of preserving Hogwarts by former headmistress Minerva McGonagall and a most anticipated inspirational speech from the man himself, Harry Potter. A number of benches had been set up between Hagrid’s hut and the Herbology green houses to view the speeches, Headmaster Harlow had tried to place some under the Whomping willow but the tree had simply swatted them away until they simply gave up trying and moved the benches just out of the trees reach. Many local businesses had set up stalls for people to sample and buy their products in the designated stall area by the lake reaching around to the boating house. By far the most exciting though was the huge preparation area along the right-side of the lake where a multitude of fireworks were being set up for what was sure to be a fantastic closing display.

As Albus watched the mass crowds began to seep through the mass security set up at the gates. He knew he wouldn’t be catching a glimpse of his father among the crowd, oh no. His father would already be in headmaster’s office. Both his Father and Rose’s Mother were far to important to be let in with the rest of the crowds, they’d likely be preparing their speech in there already. Albus was thankful when all the other boys in his dorm room had began to filter out so he could enjoy at least a few moments peace before he had to meet his father and play perfect son again. As Albus buttoned up his smartest maroon shirt and dark blue jeans he couldn’t help but wonder how it felt to just have a normal family. Not to have a hundred photos taken of him or every watching and listen to him as he spoke to his dad. But just to be able to simply be with his dad like any other normal kid. But he wasn’t any normal kid and his dad wasn’t a normal dad, he was a Potter. He learnt long ago that came with sacrifices when it came to the press. As Albus did up his shoelaces Rose stuck her head through the door.

“Are you still not ready! Professor Harlow was very clear that we were to be in his office at EXACTLY 9am! Come on!” Albus quickly finished his shoelaces and examined his hair in the mirror, desperately trying to get it to lie flat, if it lay flat maybe he’d look a little bit less like him… but just his luck even his hair failed him. Eventually he gave up and turned to follow Rose who Albus couldn’t help but noticed looked perfect for the occasion. Rose’s hair looked neater than he’d ever seen it Albus wondered how long it had taken her to get it to fall flat in the twisted bun behind her head. Albus hadn’t seen Rose in makeup before at least not that he’d ever noticed. Her eyes had a hint of blue eye shadow behind and her peach lip gloss was undeniable. Albus hadn’t been aware till now that Rose even had her ears pierced but the blue studs in her ears looked lovely next to her sapphire sun dress. As he came closer, he noticed she seemed taller, almost the same size of him now and he realised she was wearing heels. He hadn’t seen Rose in formal wear before, he was used to her jumpers and tights he supposed he shouldn’t have been that surprised but she looked so comfortable in her formal wear that Albus was painfully reminded of how much more she fit into this famous parent world than he did. Everything about Rose exuded the daughter of the minister of magic whereas nothing about Albus screamed son of a famous hero. As he and Rose met up with their siblings and headed towards the office a looming sense of dread filled into Albus’ gut. As they opened the doors Albus was first greeted by his mother in her tight green dress who gave him a hug. Albus found his mother was a lot easier to deal with than his father most of the time, but events like this often reminded Albus that his mother was also a famous quidditch player as well as a war hero, meaning she was just another person for Albus to let down. As his mother straightened his brother’s shirt and brushed off his sister’s skirt, she talked the three of them through various things the press might ask them and what to say and what not say. Albus tried to focus but all Albus could focus on was the mounting tension filling in his gut. In a few moments he’d step out there and thousands of pictures would be taken all day of him and his parents and if he didn’t do everything just right they’d all be discussing how he was the disappointment of the family again, no matter what his mother was telling him Albus knew there was only one rule today, don’t be himself. No one wanted him today they wanted the perfect little image they’d created of Harry Potter’s son and he needed to be that, or he’d disappoint everyone. The all too familiar buzzing filled Albus’ ears as his thoughts flooded with all the things he had to do and say to make sure everything he did was what they all wanted. Suddenly Albus was brought out of his spiralling thoughts by his fathers’ hand on his shoulder.

“You doing okay bud?” Harry looked down at his youngest son. Albus gently nodded. “Should be a fun day all in all.” His father stared out of the window listening to the gathering masses outside.

Albus couldn’t help but think about how easy it was for his father to go out there and make all the public appearances and still have fun doing it. Albus couldn’t enjoy a day filled with worrying about what everyone else was going to think about him or print about him, how could he do it all so easily? The speeches, the press, being that heroic person, they all wanted to see. Of course, it was easy for him Albus thought, he’s not pretending like I am, that’s just who he is, none of this is me.

“Is Uncle Charlie coming today dad?” Lily asked as she came up next to Albus. Harry was brought away from his thoughts and looked down at his daughter with a smile.

“Of course! He’s the one in charge of the dragon they’ve got opposite the greenhouses.” Lily’s face immediately lit up and Harry chucked as he watched his daughter’s immediate excitement.

“Look guys, if nothing else please just remember this, just be on your best behaviour and remember your representing not just yourself but all of us today… that means you James! I don’t want to deal with another junior marauders prank today, especially not Infront of all this press!” Ginny’s strict expression turned towards her eldest child who smiled wickedly at her.

“Wouldn’t dream of it mum!” James laughed at Ginny’s narrowed eyes.

Albus once again wondered how the thought of representing the ultimate war hero didn’t absolutely terrify his siblings the way it made him almost want to vomit. He noticed Rose and Hugo talking with there mother on the other side of the room and wondered if they were getting a similar speech or if aunt Hermione and uncle Ron just knew that Rose and Hugo would be perfect representations of them.

“It’s time” Professor Harlow gently tapped Aunt Hermione’s shoulder and Albus took a deep breath knowing what that meant… time for the charade to begin.

Thalia was excitedly showing her parents and little sister Violet around the school, and with Albus and Rose preoccupied with their parents, Scorpius had no choice but the find a bench and sit alone waiting for the opening speech, that was until Sienna sat down next to him.

“This seat taken?” Scorpius gestured for her to sit down and smiled over, realising that she wasn’t just making sure he wasn’t alone, she was making sure she wasn’t alone either. Scorpius’ smile faulted as he caught sight of a figure behind her in a smart coat, a coat Scorpius recognised, as the stranger turned to face him Scorpius was left to wonder, why on earth his father was here.

As Thalia sat Violet on her knee while the minister gave her speech on the importance of coming together as a community. she was reminded of how amazing magic had felt to her at 6 years old too, the wonder in Violets eyes reminded her of the first time she’d seen hogwarts.

“Balloon!” Violet shouted in excitement as she caught sight of a bunch of green, red, yellow and blue balloons meant to represent all the hogwarts houses. As Thalia watched her almost jump out of her arms pointing at the balloons she smiled.

“Go on then, go get one” She resigned herself much to her 6-year-old sister’s joy. Thalia placed her onto the ground and watched her run off to man nearly handing out the balloons to the children. Thalia glanced up to see Rose solemnly stood by her mothers’ side and was realised how well Rose fit into the role of minister’s daughter, her put together demeaner made her perfect for the role. Thalia made a mental note to remember to introduce her parents to Rose, it would be nice for them to see she had some friends here.

Thalia glanced back over to see if Violet had selected her balloon yet and her heart skipped a beat as she realised, she couldn’t see her anymore.

After her mother’s speech Rose had taken multiple photos for the press and answered some of there questions, after which she had some time to enjoy the day. She, Hugo and their parents had enjoyed a lovely lunch on one of the picnic blankets before entering the stadium, formerly the quidditch pitch. Rose knew how anxious these public events made her younger brother, so she resolved to keep him close to allow her to step in if needs be with any pushy photographer or rude interviewer. As Rose was taking note of the fantastic quidditch display and remarking to her father how much more remarkable it would be if they’d got the Chuddley canons, her and her fathers’ favourite team. Rose felt her arm being tugged away. She looked up to find a particularly star eyed woman who’d just snapped a photo of her.

“Rose! What’s your opinion on your mothers new law allowing the recognition of centaur land rights?” As Rose gave her standard rehearsed answer, she got hounded with more an more questions, each one she tried to answer with the same composure, she’d practiced this after all Rose noticed her family had moved on and quickly excused herself. It wasn’t long before she found her fathers familiar orange hair and re-joined them. Only to notice one significant member missing, her brother Hugo.

“What are you doing here!” Scorpius hissed, after the speech he’d excused himself from Sienna and made his way over to the bench his father was sitting on alone. He had managed to gain significant attention; it was hard for Scorpius not to hear the whispering as people stared at them.

“There are no restrictions on who can attend this event, and as a father of a pupil at the school I felt it my place to…” Draco failed to meet the desperation in his sons’ eyes willing him to be anywhere else.

“It’s NOT your place!” Scorpius tried not to raise his voice so as not to attract anymore onlookers.

“Scorpius, you don’t talk to me like that!” The all too familiar firmness filled Draco’s voice mixed with a hint of surprise at having his son speak back to him.

“I will speak to you however I want. Go home father. This is a celebration, a day of remembrance and joy and your presence here is unwelcome” Draco looked down his nose at Scorpius meeting his eyes for the first time.

“You haven’t been home…” Draco began changing the subject Scorpius quickly cut him off.

“I’m staying with extended family. Now why are you here.” Scorpius met his father’s eyes with a fierce defiance his father didn’t recognise in him. There was a hint of pride in his face that filled Scorpius with hatred.

“I’m just as entitled to be here as anyone else. Are you going to join me in seeing the activities of the day?” Scorpius’ body filled with disgust; this was a press opportunity for him. A chance to parade his son around to show their family paying their respects and making amends, except he didn’t mean any of it.

“No. This may just be a chance to be seen for you, but it actually means something to those people who fought in the battle, lost people… how could you use that as a publicity scheme!”

“I…” Scorpius cut him off by walking away. It made him sick to his stomach to stay there a moment longer, he looked out to try to find Sienna but found she’d left her seat at there previous bench and saw trace of her.

As lunch time began to approach Albus mentally congratulated himself for making it through half the day without breaking. He’d smiled for all the photos, answered all the questions and withstood all the stares. But as he stood in the transfiguration yard with his father and brother listening to his father rehearse his speech Albus knew his real challenge would be in the next few minutes. Getting through his dads’ speech without breaking would easily be his hardest task, luckily, he was saved from his downwards thoughts by his mother’s abrupt entrance to the courtyard that had stopped his father in his tracks.

“Any sign of her?” Harry asked Ginny, fiddling with his cue cards out of habit.

“Nothing! Last I saw her she went to see Charlie and the dragon, but Charlie said she wandered off, I can’t seem to find her. We’ll just have to do it without her!” Ginny sighed. Lily’s frequent wondering trips had often been a point of annoyance with his parents.

“Oh, Merlin it’ll look awful if it’s just the boys, I can see the headlines now, they’ll say we’re neglecting her!” Harry argued, Ginny sympathetically met her eyes.

“You’re on in 2 minutes there’s not a lot we can do. Hopefully she’ll turn up, but you know what Lily’s like! What else can we do?” Albus’ wondered what adventure his sister was having this time and as his parents discussed their options Albus’ couldn’t help himself but wonder towards the window and glance out at the crowd. Wondering where his sister had disappeared off too this time.

#fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #harry potter next generation #harry potter 3rd generation #Albus Severus Potter #James Sirius Potter #lily luna potter #rose weasley #hugo weasley #roxanne weasley #Fred Weasley II #molly weasley II #lucy weasley #victoire weasley #dominique weasley #louis weasley #teddy lupin #scorpius malfoy

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ashenious · 5 years ago

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Actuate; Destiny’s Pending (The Witcher) Chapter 3 of 7

Overall Story Rating: Mature Overall Story Tags: Reader-Insert, no beta we die like men, in this house we post sporadically, complete self indulgence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Following Storyline, Multi-shipping, (So that everyone’s a winner), POV Second Person, Alcohol, Sex, Basically anything that’s in the show is gonna be here

For This Chapter: Title: Actuate Rating: Mature Warnings: Canon talk of incest Additional: None Word Count: 16,416 A/N: Ya’know, I wasn't sure anyone'd like this series cause a good chunk of it is just the show but in written form? But I've always wanted to do this with a series as I feel like typing up what I'm seeing helps me with my writing. It also gives me a reason to re-watch the show too. Also, holy HELL. This chapter kind of...took off. I knew these chapters were going to be long, but not....16.5k words long. So, uh, enjoy! Hopefully I did it justice and you enjoy it! I know a lot of this chapter is pretty straight forward with the show, but I promise the next chapter won't be. It's going to be more...Jaskier focused, if you catch my drift. Addition A/N at end

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6/Part 7

AO3 Link: Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6/Part 7

“Geralt, is this where you’ve been for the last 3 days?”

“Don’t judge me.”

“Oh, Roach and I are so judging you.”

Watching as Roach nudged her head into Geralt’s shoulder, you huffed just as she did to the man. Turning and glancing at you slightly, you merely stuck your tongue out at the Witcher, your eyes catching sight of the approaching man behind him. Leaning a bit and seeing the innkeeper coming up to Geralt, his body showing the same almost seething anger in it as his face portrayed, the Witcher turned and looked over the shorter man.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any coin on you?” you heard Geralt ask. Realizing the man was talking to you, you couldn’t help but huff again as you shook your head.

“No! You don’t have enough to pay for your 3-day excursion?”

“Then, I’ll be back with payment in a few days,” Geralt said to the innkeeper before him. Watching as the man reached to his side and patted Roach gently, you couldn’t stop yourself from making a face at the Witcher in disbelief. “Anything happens to my horse…”

“You don’t scare me,” the innkeeper said, his voice confident and smug. Bringing your hands up and rubbing them over your face, making sure to keep your eyes clear of obstruction, you watched as Geralt stepped up to the man, getting in his personal space and towering over him. You swore you heard the man’s breath stop as the Witcher stared down at him, and as the man clenched his fists in a white knuckled grip, you let your hands fall down to your hips.

“Point me to Temeria,” Geralt growled at the man. The now terrified innkeep quietly and quickly pointed his full arm out to his right, and you turned to look in the direction he was pointing. You weren’t sure where Temeria was, hell you weren’t even sure what town you were in now, but as Geralt glanced back at you for a second, you knew that you’d be figuring out where Temeria was very soon.

Geralt removed himself from the innkeeper’s space, and as he turned and began to walk toward where the man had pointed, you gently patted Roach on her side as you sighed.

“Be back soon love,” You said to her gently before you began to follow after Geralt quickly, making sure to take large steps to keep up with the man. Catching up to the man quickly, you stepped in front of him and spun yourself around to walk backwards in front of him. “What’s in Temeria?”

“Work,” Geralt replied simply.

“Yes, I assumed that, what kind of work?” you asked, a smidge more irritated at the man than you were a second prior.

“More innkeeping,” Geralt snarked back.

“Alright wise-guy, wha--” you felt your foot catch on something as you tried to cross your arms over your chest and you to stumbled for a second, your legs scrambling to keep you upright. Cursing loudly, your arms flailed about in the air as you tried to keep yourself from meeting with the earth suddenly. Catching yourself finally and quickly righting yourself, you crossed your arms over your chest again hesitantly and puffed your cheeks out as you began to walk forward next to Geralt instead of backwards in front of him.

“…Are you drunk?” Geralt asked as he looked over you slowly.

“What, your Witcher senses can’t smell the ale on me?”

“You always smell like ale.”

“And whose fault is that, Mr. ‘always-able-to-find-a-tavern-no-matter-where-we-are’?” holding your finger up to the man, you refused to look at him as you spoke, “Look, you told me to wait at the tavern 3 days ago. And so, I did!”

“And that’s why you don’t have any coin?” Hearing a small laugh, you turned and pouted at the Witcher.

“Ey! What else was I to do while you were tumbling about at the inn?” Pointing your finger at the man, his face merely changed to show his amusement. “It’s not like I can just go down the road and go to a library or a café or something, those don’t really exist here, now do they? All that town had was the tavern and a horse stable!”

“So you drank then? For 3 days straight?”

“I thought you were going to come back after a bit!” Holding your arms out to your sides, careful to avoid hitting the man, you scrunched your face in frustration. “I can’t tell time when I’m drunk, and I was having the time of my life with those bar maidens. They were quite excited to have me around, I’ll let you know.”

“They were quite excited for your coin,” Geralt chuckled.

“Look, if you had told me you were wanting to go rustle around in some sheets, you wouldn’t have had to go off and find the most expensive lady of the night; we could have made an arrangement and avoided this whole thing!” Bringing your arms down, you crossed them over your chest yet again as you turned to face the road. “You wouldn’t be in debt to some small-town innkeep, I wouldn’t have gone on a 3-day bender, and we’d be so much happier than we are now, walking to wherever the hell Temeria is.”

“Arrangement?” Hearing the word repeated back to you, you sucked in a small breath as you felt yourself tense up.

“I…” pausing for a moment, you felt yourself heat up as you tried to think of words to say. Shaking your head out quickly, you clapped your hands together in front of you suddenly just as you found the right words to yell out, “I am drunk! I don’t know what I’m saying! What monster are we killing again?” Refusing to look at Geralt, you knew the man was looking at you, his face probably an unreadable expression. Keeping your eyes forward, you waited for a response, knowing full well that one may not come as you and the Witcher continued to walk toward Temeria.

“Hm.”

Walking up to the sign, you couldn’t help but laugh a bit at what it read: ‘Temeria: Realm of monsters and cowardly kings.” Turning and watching Geralt walk down into the mines, you looked up past the entrance to the underground and admired the view of the castle beyond the forest growing over the mine.

Glancing to the sky, you could see the last bits of light surrounding the area, something you couldn’t help but groan at as you and Geralt had been walking all day. You were glad the sun was setting however, as the light of it had been aggravating the headache from your hangover that had started not long after the sun had risen earlier. Stepping away from the sign and toward where Geralt was going, you took large and quick steps to catch up to the man inside the mines.

The underground mine was vast and expansive, which impressed you fully as you walked through it. The main path of the mine was obvious, its walls spread out far on each side to allow people to walk through, and the side paths that lead to other places of it much smaller and more cramped. You and Geralt walked for a long time through the main part of the mine, and since you weren’t able to see the sky anymore, you were unsure how much time passed by. Just as you were able to complain about the amount of walking you were doing and how awful you felt as your hangover quietly and continuously threatened you, the sound of voices coming from down the corridor stopped you from speaking.

“…force his hand!” you heard from someone in the mine. Continuing with Geralt toward the sound, you listened to the unknown man as he spoke on. “Lay down our picks and refuse to work!”

“And a half-measure ain’t gonna do!” Rounding the corner nearest where the voices came from, you followed Geralt’s lead as he stopped himself near the group of men that you could now see and leant against the wall as the crowd continued to rally amongst themselves. “We’ve got to move on. Plenty of work south of Sodden.”

“My son, rest his soul, told me in Nilfgaard the king diddled whores while his subjects starved.” Looking at the man who had just spoken, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sad hearing about his son, and assumed his son was one of the victims of the monster that was plaguing the kingdom. “Then someone came. The Usurper. And he rallied the people, and they took back what was theirs!” Men around the one speaking all yelled out in affirmation as the man finished speaking, the loud noise causing your head to throb sharply and causing you to look around at each of miners. They were all covered in dirt, something that wasn’t surprising, and you wondered how long each of them had worked in the mines for. “I say we follow their lead!” the man said after the other miners’ yells had died down. Raising their picks and staffs up, the group of miners cheered again, causing yet another tinge of pain to run through your head.

“You can’t kill the vukodlak, so you decide to kill your king?” Geralt asked to the men before you and him, his voice lightly coated with amusement. “Great plan.” The miners turned quickly at his sarcasm, their eyes looking over Geralt and you as each of them recognized that the pair of you had been listening to their rallying.

“Another fuckin’ Witcher. Your kind already swindled us once!” the leader of the rallied men barked at Geralt, his voice heavy in anger as he took a step forward.

“Well, he was a pretty shite Witcher obviously,” you said to the men as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Couldn’t finish the job, couldn’t deal with his pride hurting, couldn’t come back to admit it to you.”

“I take payment after the job is done and for a third of the price,” Geralt explained to the men. Looking at the leader of group, he eyed you skeptically before he looked amongst the men behind him.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just the…chronicler?” you tried as you smiled sheepishly. “I’m here on my own freewill; a volunteer of the people if you will! I keep this Witcher in check.” Glancing to the side as you gently tapped the back of your hand onto Geralt’s chest, you could see the small glare that he was giving to you, but you waved it off as you continued to smile at the miners before you.

“Take this as an apology,” Geralt said as he looked over the miners collective, his arms crossing over his chest firmly as he spoke. “From my guild to yours.” The men, especially the lead of the group, still looked at you and Geralt skeptically, their faces scrunched tightly, and their brows furrowed as their minds presumably thought over what you and the Witcher had said.

“And if you can’t kill it?” the leader of the group finally asked after a few moments where the only thing that could be heard was the crackling of the fire that was barely illuminating the area.

“Then I die,” the Witcher stated simply. Just after Geralt had spoken, the sound of footsteps began to fill the air. Turning toward where you thought the sound was coming from, you dropped your arms from your chest and watched as a small army of men, lead by one man in the front of them, appeared from a side paths going off of the area. The look of the small army was serious, mirroring the expression of their leader, and you immediately disliked them. Stopping before all the miners, the man in the front raised his hand, halting the men behind him as he looked over the collection of people before him.

“Please, everyone remain calm. Lower your weapons and return to your homes,” the leader commanded lightly to the miners as he lowered his own hand. “Do so quickly, and without further theatrics, and you have my word that our king will not hear of this treason.” Not believing what you were hearing, you couldn’t help but make a face at the man, one that caught his attention for a moment before his gaze was brought back to the leader of the miners who stepped forward.

“Foltest commits treason. He hides in his winter caste as we are eaten!” the lead said to the army front man. The rallied group behind him cheered loudly as he stood up to the army, their weapons and tools raised in tightly clenched fists as their voices echoed off of the walls. The man’s face was dimly lit by the flames around the room, but you could see the pained expression he wore as he stared down the army leader.

“Mikal was a good boy,” the army leader said softly to other, his hand coming up to lay gently on the miner’s shoulder. “Revenge will not ease your pain.” The man’s hand was quickly shoved away with force, and the pained expression on the miner’s face was quickly replaced with disgust as he spat upon the army leader’s shoe. At the sound of disrespect, the army men raised their arms and weapons, ready to charge forward. Their leader quickly lifted his hand, however, and they all hesitantly lowered their weapons once again.

“You know nothing of my pain,” the lead miner spat at the army leader as he turned away from him. He walked off, and as he did, each of his fellow miners slowly followed his lead and left the area. You watched as each left, seeing the looks of disgust and contempt on their faces as they slowly made their way passed you and back to their homes or their jobs.

“I’m sorry, but am I hearing you right?” you blurted out suddenly. The leader of the army turned back to you again, his gazed upon you as you glared at him. “You’re seriously telling them that you’ll not tell on them to your king cause they don’t want to get killed?”

“And what business have you here?” the man asked at you, a bit of bitterness in his voice.

“A lot, apparently! We’re here to stop whatever’s killing your people, since it seems your king hasn’t done a damn thing to stop it!” You didn’t even have to look at Geralt to know that he was giving you a familiar exacerbated look, this not being the first time you were speaking before you were thinking.

“No, you’re not,” the man said simply. Turning around and looking at his army, the man waved a hand toward you and Geralt. “See these ones to our borders. Temeria’s had their fill… of Witchers.” Huffing a bit as 4 men from the army began to walk toward you, you gave Geralt a side glance as he pulled himself off of the wall.

“We seriously leaving?” you asked quietly so that only he could hear.

“For now,” The 4 army men motioned for you to walk back to the entrance of the mine, something you stubbornly complied with. The walk back through the mine was unextraordinary, and almost everything was exactly as you had just seen it not even minutes before except for the few miners that were tucked away in the side paths off of the main mine hallway.

As you and Geralt exited the mine, one of the men ordered you both to stop, something you merely rolled your eyes at as you stopped. 2 of the men went off to an area beyond the trees, and you watched as this disappeared behind the leaves that were blocking a small part of the path. You glanced at Geralt just as the men left and couldn’t help but chuckle at the unamused look he was wearing that you were sure was mirroring your own.

The 2 men returned with 4 horses, and as they stepped into the area past the leaves where you and Geralt stood, the other 2 men stepped forward to grab a horse of their own. They all mounted their steads, and you couldn’t help but wonder how Roach was doing in the moment. It had only been a day since you and Geralt had left her, but you were already wondering how extreme a punishment you would enact on the innkeep should you return to find the mare hungry or hurt.

Geralt and you were motioned down the path by the pointing of one of the men’s swords, and you sighed lightly as you began to follow the 2 mounted mares down the road as the other 2 walked behind you and the Witcher. You wanted to say something to the men, start a conversation or even light banter with them as you walked as you knew Geralt would not have either of those, but as you still felt the dull throb of your headache and faint feel of unwellness in you, you decided against speaking at all.

Night had entirely arrived as you and the Witcher were led down the path, the only light being seen was the torches that the front men were holding as they sat on their horses and the moon that shone brightly above. You weren’t sure how far you had walked since you had been told to leave Temeria before you heard a strange thud behind you, one that sudden enough to make you jump a bit in place. Quickly spinning around, almost too fast as you stumbled for a moment still in your hungover state, you caught sight of one of men on the ground, and the other man beside him making his way to the ground probably in the same way as the first man as he slumped over and off his horse. As he hit the dirt with a solid thud that sounded identical to the first, you heard the shifting and sliding of the men behind you as they too slumped over and fell from their horses.

“Bedtime, huh?” you said quietly as your hand reached behind you for your sword. Taking a step back, you let yourself run into Geralt as you drew your weapon, knowing the man had already drawn his sword and was also searching the area for the source of the magic that had been cast. Glancing around the men on the ground and along the tree line, it didn’t take long for you to catch sight of a person emerging from behind the leaves of a shrub that was growing just beside the road. Clenching tightly on the handle of your sword, you looked the woman up and down slowly and you took stance, unsure of who she was or what she was doing in hiding. She was beautiful you noticed, and as you paused a moment to meet her eye, you sent your unarmed elbow back into Geralt’s back to alert the man.

“Hey look, a pretty sorceress. There could be worse ways to go down,” you said as you felt Geralt turn about his heel to face where you were looking.

“Witcher. Companion. You can put down your swords. I’m not here to hurt you,” the woman said to you and Geralt as she stepped a bit closer to the road.

“Says the witch hiding in the woods,” Geralt muttered quietly, his hand not moving to sheath his sword.

“Sorceress was correct.”

“…Witch.”

“Geralt, why are you so insistent on being rude to everyone?” you sighed as you looked up to the Witcher while you remained in your stance.

“Why are you so insistent on flirting with everyone?”

“Well, I uh… well, regardless! Why’d you go and…knock out our escorts, ma’am?” Turning away from Geralt, you slowly sheathed your weapon as you looked over the escorts that were still laying on the ground.”

“I am Triss Merrigold. I serve King Foltest,” the woman answered simply.

“I’m…really confused then,” you said as you looked from the men to the sorceress again. “Cause aren’t these men also …?”

“…He makes a show of kicking us out…then sends his errand girl to slip some coin to kill his monster,” Geralt stated, as if what he was saying were obvious. Maybe it was because of your headache but you felt like what he was saying was a farfetched idea and completely impractical. Thinking about how ridiculous royalty could be, however, made you think that maybe it really wasn’t that farfetched at all. “Not a very original plan for a king”

“It’s my plan. My coin. And I don’t want you to kill the beast. I want you to help me save it.”

Triss, as the lady had introduced herself as, lead you and Geralt back into Temeria again, this time taking a path that avoided the mines entirely and went straight to the castle above ground. She took you both to her lab, a place that was colourful and full of items that you assumed all had magical properties. Some of the plants and collected items in the jars along the wall were familiar to you, items that Geralt had collected and used to make into his own potions in the past, though you often never learned the name of many of the ingredients. You had tried to coerce the man into explaining what he was making many times, but each time he simply shrugged you off by saying “You’ll never use as it would kill you, so why do you need to know?”

Stepping up to where Triss was standing once you had finished looking her collection up and down, you mimicked Geralt’s action and leaned against the nearby wall as you waited for the lady to explain what was happening.

“Six years ago, stable hands started vanishing at the castle above the city,” she began to explain. “Before long, citizens were disappearing throughout all of Temeria. Foltest’s royal guard soon realized the creature was coming from the crypt where the king’s sister Adda is buried. Rumor has it she was having an affair with a young man in town when she died.”

“Was she pregnant?” Geralt asked.

“Well, if she were, that would make her child the sole heir to the throne, as Foltest never married. The king fled the castle, ignoring the rising death toll. After Nilfgaard overthrew their king, the brotherhood couldn’t risk it happening again, so they sent me here three months ago to cure the creature.”

“Brotherhood?” Cocking your head to the side a bit, you looked up at Geralt, hoping he or Triss would explain. You had heard of the Brotherhood before, but it had never been explained who or what it was.

“Are you unfamiliar with the Brotherhood?” Triss began to ask.

"Vukodlaks are freak mutations. They can’t be cured,” Geralt stated as he ignored you. Triss paused for a moment as she looked over you. You merely shrugged a bit, knowing there was a more pressing matter at hand. Triss gave you a strange look for a second before she turned to speak to the Witcher.

“Good thing it’s not a vukodlak,” she said to Geralt. Watching the woman wave her hand, you and Geralt stood up from the wall that you were against and began to follow her down from her lab.

Down below the castle Triss lead you and Geralt, farther down than even the part of mines you were escorted from were below the earth. As you entered the chamber, one very similar looking to the mines you noticed, the smell of death hit you, something that was entirely different from the mines. Although among the smell of death there was the smell of salt that was also present in the mines, and you wondered if the area you were in was once the original mines of Temeria or if the area had just been carved out for morbid storage.

Following next to Geralt as Triss made her way down the hallway, you noticed the grimace that Geralt had on his face for a second, the smell of the death very much getting to him as you and he neared the source. Entering into an opening in the underground, the source of the rotten smell was presented to you by Triss’ extended hand, and you felt your face drop a little at the sight of salt preserves before you.

Geralt took lead, and as he leant down to the coffin that was motioned toward, he slowly shuffled his hand through the protrusion of salt. Beneath the heap lay a man, one of which you weren’t familiar with, but as Geralt kept shuffling his hand down the salt to clear away the preserving material from the man, you caught sight of deceased man’s necklace and knew immediately who he was even though you had never met him.

“You didn’t want the people to know it bested a Witcher. And you let them believe that he fled with their coin,” Geralt said quietly as he turned toward Triss slightly, his hand gently holding his fellow Witcher’s medallion up into the air.

“Oh, poor guy. Kind of feel bad about calling him a shite Witcher. But no wonder the guy’s asking price was so high. He knew what he was up against, how dangerous it was,” you said quietly as you stepped toward the coffin to look at the medallion Geralt was holding. You stopped just a few steps away from it, however, the smell of salt and death becoming overwhelming finally. You were glad that your hangover wasn’t making you nauseous as you feared that the strong rotten smell would have been the end of you as you slowly covered your mouth and nose with your hand. The strong smell, however, only intensified your head ache, and you glanced at Geralt as you wondered how he faired with the smell, if he was just unfortunately so used to it that it no longer had an effect on him at all.

Geralt gently set down the Witcher medallion and began to ruffle through the salt one handed again. Observing the movements, you slowly pieced together where Geralt was looking as the piles of salt slowly fell to the side to reveal the torn apart body of the former Witcher. You weren’t sure what exactly you were looking at as Geralt examined the different parts of the body, but given your general knowledge of human anatomy, you assumed you were looking at the man’s internal organs that had been carelessly shredded by the monster. It was bloody and messy, and the salt was sticking to different parts of the body, so it was difficult to identify which organ Geralt was looking at at a given time, but the Witcher seemed to know what he was doing as his hand ran over the different shredded parts.

“But he didn’t,” Geralt said after a long minute of looking over the body.

“Huh?”

“His heart’s missing along with his liver. Only one creature I know is that picky an eater. A striga,” The living Witcher said as he slowly rose to standing while shaking off salt from his hand.

“Not a vukodlak after all?” you asked, curiosity heavy in your voice as you cocked your head. Reaching to your small bag, you pulled out a small piece of cloth and gently handed it to Geralt.

“Strigas are old wives’ tales though,” Triss said as she stepped closer to you and Geralt.

“Wait, aren’t strigas those other full moon creatures… They’re not unlike werewolves in that…” You remembered talking to Jaskier about strigass before, as the man was a walking book of stories from all corners of the continent. From vukodlaks to strigas to arachnomorphs, the bard had a story that pertained to almost any monster you had ever heard of. You took every story he told you with a grain of salt, however, as many of them sounded farfetched and insane. Given your lack of knowledge of what could actually be living on the continent and how unresponsive Geralt was to you most of the time, you never knew what to assume was real or not. Your head still ached however, and you found it hard to remember all the details you wanted to about strigas in the moment.

“The only way to make one is through a curse,” Geralt finished for you as he slowly wiped his hand free of the salt dust.

“Someone wanted Adda dead,” Triss stated quietly to herself.

“Oh, a mystery! But, wait…if Adda’s been buried then what, or I guess, who…?” Turning around and glancing at Triss, you looked her over for a moment before you turned back to Geralt and grabbed your cloth back that he was handing to you.

“The curse didn’t stop with Adda. It turned her daughter into a monster,” the Witcher said as he looked toward Triss.

“Her daughter?”

“Strigas are female. This striga’s a princess,” Turning on his foot and walking back the way you had been led, Geralt walked ahead as you and Triss stood a moment and thought about what he had just said.

“…Fuck. To lift a curse and solve a mystery. And we don’t have much time either.” Day had sprung slowly while you Geralt had been lead back Temeria, and although your head was still fuzzy and hurting from your hangover, you still were able to remember that the full moon was due for the upcoming night. Time was short, and you worried that the miner’s tempers were shorter to rioting should another of their people be killed in less than a day.

“Miss Merigold, you were dispatched to settle a family affair, not to enlist a mutant mercenary and his loud companion for a game of sleuthing,” the man who was introduced as the captain of the royal guard, Segelin, said quite pointily at Triss.

“This is no game, Captain. Tonight is a full moon and these two have already proved themselves to be invaluable. We believe we can cure the creature,” Triss countered. She had led you and Geralt up from the underground chambers to the King’s dining hall and had requested an immediate meeting with the man and his officers. All were less than thrilled to be meeting while the King was eating his lunch, but as Triss conveyed the urgency of the matter, the men conceded to a meeting.

“You say she’s a girl, then you will refer to her as ‘her royal highness’,” Segelin commanded as he crossed his arms over his chest. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the command, something that caused the captain to shoot you a dirty look. Swinging your legs in front of you a bit, you merely adjusted yourself on the window ledge on which you were sat.

“Segelin, I believe urgency warrants flexibility in court decorum,” said the man whom you had first met in the mines who was finally introduced as Ostrit. He had been introduced as ‘Lord Ostrit’ to be exact, and you weren’t sure exactly what the man was to the King Foltest, but you assumed that he was an advisor of some sorts.

“The Witcher’s theory is nonsense; Princess Adda was the people’s angel! Who’d wish to murder her?” Segelin asked to no one in particular as he swung around to face Ostrit.

“What about her lover?” Geralt asked from where he was leaning against the window ledge next to where you sat.

“Seditious rumors. Idle courtesans trading out boredom for jealousy,” Segelin countered bitterly as he turned to face the Witcher, his face scrunched in disgust.

“What’s your proof?” you asked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, people can appear as good as they want, but it’s not stopped people from hiding the worst things about themselves from others,” you explained simply. Your world or the current world you were in, people had consistently proven to be awful almost anywhere you had been, and you had a feeling that this situation was no exception.

“I will not have such disrespect spoken of the dead!” Segelin about shouted, his face contorted in such great offence at the thought of this Adda doing something wrong.

“Perhaps if you called off your guards, if we were able to search the abandoned castle, we could find clues as to who cursed her,” Triss offered lightly as she glanced at you for a second.

“Except this Witcher would kill the princess as she sleeps and collect the miners’ coin!” Segelin said, anger present heavily in his voice as he pointed at Geralt.

“You haven’t listened to a word anyone’s said, have you? It’s not about the coin! Did we mention curses can sometimes be broken?” you huffed. Feeling a hand smack into your chest lightly, you looked down and then to Geralt who was giving you a directed but gentle look as he retracted his hand back to cross both of his arms over his chest.

“Call her a princess,” the Witcher said as he looked away from you. “Call her a unicorn if you’d like to. She grew inside Adda, feeding on her petrified womb.”

“Have neither of you any respect?!” Segelin finally shouted.

“Oh, please don’t shout,” you muttered as your dull headache throbbed lightly at the sudden loud noise.

“Mutating. Growing for years till she got so hungry… she was forced to slither out. Rotten muscle, bent bones, two spidery legs, claws dragging in the dirt. An overgrown abortion.”

“Enough,” the ever silent Foltest finally said quietly.

“Your Highness?” Everyone turned and looked at Foltest, and Segelin stepped a pace closer to the king as the man set down his cutlery.

“Leave,” the king commanded quietly but firmly. No one moved for a second, but as Foltest said nothing else, Segelin turned from him to you and Geralt, motioning for the door. You sighed as you slid down from the window ledge and obeyed the silent command, slowly making your way out of the room along with Triss, Ostrit, and Geralt. The guard at the front of the room slowly slid open the door as you neared, but you simply motioned for Triss to go ahead of you. She nodded gently as she passed you and stepped through the door, and you followed just behind her. Ostrit and Segelin left the room just after you, and you turned yourself around just in time to see Geralt grabbing ahold of the guard that held the door by his scruff to shove him through, closing the door quickly and firmly as the guard stumbled into the hall.

“Hey!!” shouted the guard as he quickly found his footing and tried to shove open the door. “Open the door! Open this door! Protect the king! Witcher!” Pounding on the door, the guards that were stood outside the door previously quickly joined the man in trying to open the door, their fists knocking upon the wood loudly and forcibly.

“If the Witcher harms the king, it’ll be your head that accompanies his burial!” Segelin growled at you just before he moved to join the guards in pounding on the door.

“I have many doubts about how well you’d fare against Geralt,” you muttered quietly, unsure and uncaring if Segelin heard you. You turned from the scene of 4 men trying to open the door to Triss, nodding gently at her as you turned and left the area. You knew that Foltest was commanding you and Geralt to leave Temeria just as Ostrit had done earlier, but you didn’t want to take his command as such. Instead, you wanted to take his command as a ‘leave my presence’ one, knowing full well that any court of royalty wouldn’t take your answer well. Nevertheless, you were leaving the king’s presence like you were ordered as you walked down the hall.

Leaving the castle gave you and your now pounding headache relief from the insistent pounding of fists onto wood, and the air that was cold was almost welcome as you walked yourself down the path. Light, frozen dew covered the grass and shrubs around the area from the morning condensation while a fresh but thin layer of snow began to accumulate on top of them, and you began to wonder how long your body was going to throw a fit about your 3-day bender. You had been drinking water during your long days, but you still had drank for basically 3 days straight, and so you weren’t very surprised that your hangover was striking with a vengeance for longer than normal. You just hoped that you wouldn’t have a 3-day hangover as karma for following a command naïvely.

You neared the old castle of Temeria, and as you made your way toward the front of it by going the long way around near the bottom of the castle, you heard the faint shuffling of people near the entrance. You slid along the bricks of the reinforced wall outside of the bridge, and as you neared the end, you peered around the corner slowly to look for the source of the noise. Seeing the distinct figures of 2 men on top of the bridge, weapons at their sides and dressed up in armor, you slid yourself back and slid down to wall to sitting.

Taking in the cool air and the quiet of the currently peaceful day, you closed your eyes and leant your head back against the cool wall as you waited. You sat for an unknown amount of time, taking in the gentle breeze and distant shuffling of the guards a top the bridge before you finally heard the light crunching of frozen grass being stepped on in the direction that you had come from.

“Glad you could finally join me.” Turning and seeing Geralt round the corner near you, you grinned a bit at the man, gently patting the place next to where you sat.

“I’m surprised you didn’t make your way in already,” the Witcher said as he sat himself down next to you. Noting that the man had no visible cuts or bruises on him, you turned from him to glance around the corner a bit to watch the 2 guards.

“Eh, I wanted to see if that one guy…Segelin was it? Wanted to see if he was going to fight you,” you explained as you observed the 2 guards shaking almost literally in their boots on the bridge, whether from the cold or the striga inside you knew not.

“He didn’t.”

“Coward,” you chuckled lightly. “Ready to go in?”

“Wait a bit.”

“Why?” Looking at Geralt, you cocked your head a bit. The man didn’t answer you and merely leaned back against the wall like you had done earlier. Mirroring the man and leaning back again, you let your eyes close gently as you waited for whatever Geralt had said to wait for.

“You were told to leave Temeria,” you heard suddenly after a few minutes of quiet. Opening your eyes and turning your head, you saw Triss, now dawning a cloak over her form, walking up near Geralt.

“But come on. These views,” the Witcher said sarcastically as he motioned to the area around, something you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at.

“I just thought we were told to leave Foltest’s presence,” you snarked quietly.

“Are you going to kill her?” Triss asked as she stopped walking.

“I don’t want the miners’ coin.”

“Or mine, apparently. What is this girl to you?” Looking between you and Geralt, you saw the genuine curiosity present on Triss’ face as she spoke. “Why do you care?”

“You first. I saw how Foltest and his boy spoke to you. Why help those who won’t listen?”

“It ain’t ever about snobby kings and their bench boys. Can’t let the innocent get harmed anymore,” you interjected quietly as you placed your hands on your knees and rose to standing. Triss and Geralt both looked at you, and you merely gave them both a gentle smile as you peered around the corner at the guards once again.

“I’m sure someone as legendary as you has already figured out several ways to get past Segelin’s guards,” Triss chuckled as pulled her cloak over herself more.

“Of course,” Feeling a tap on your side, you turned yourself slightly and looked down at Geralt. Seeing the rock that he was holding out to you, you couldn’t help but grin wide.

“Oh, fuck yeah!”

“Don’t hit them.”

“Oh.” Taking the rock from the Witcher, you weighed it in your hand lightly. “Oh dammit, alright.” Turning back around to the castle, you looked over the 2 guards at the doors for a moment before you shifted yourself into a better stance, one where your legs were spread wide and your non-throwing arm way was braced against the wall. Hearing a snort from Geralt, you chuckled lightly as you tightened your hold on the rock as you lowered your arm down. Swinging your arm up and over yourself, you let the rock go, sending it flying toward the castle, completely out of sight of the guards.

Not even a moment after the rock had landed and its sound echoed off of the castle’s walls and out into the world, and the screams of the guards along with the sounds of their weapons hitting the ground graced your ears. Turning around to face Geralt and Triss, still standing with your legs wide and your non-throwing hand still against the wall, you grinned at them as you gave them a thumbs up.

“Fuck! It’s cold as hell in here too! I really miss central heating and cooling.” Although the cold outside had helped a bit with your headache, you had hoped that the castle was going to be a bit warmer, but as you walked through the halls of the castle, you found that the air was just as cold as you could still see your breath as you spoke and breathed.

“You’re talking nonsense again,” Geralt said as he attempted to open a door that was at the end of the hall were walking down.

“You just don’t know what you’re missing!” Sticking your tongue out at the Witcher as he let go of the door that wouldn’t open for him, you pulled your cloak over yourself more, at least thankful there was less wind inside the halls of the castle compared to outside.

“Temeria reeks of secrets. I could sense them. Just like I could these bodies before we entered. I imagine you sensed them, too,” Triss said as she looked at the walls and floors of the hallway in front of Geralt. Glancing around her, you saw the bodies of the striga’s victims laying on the floor, a sight that was a bit unsettling to see so casually. Stopping before a picture of Foltest and a woman, Triss looked over it as you and Geralt stopped next to her. “Foltest and Adda. What happened to them?”

Looking over the picture, you cocked your head a bit, knowing that the young boy in the picture was Foltest, but unable to see the face of the king in the picture. You wondered if the stress of being royal had aged the man, something that you wanted to roll your eyes at. Glancing over to the girl in the picture, you wondered when the picture was painted, not knowing much about Adda besides her relation to Foltest, let alone her age when she was killed. She looked fairly young in the picture, so you assumed that she was killed long after she had been asked to sit for the painting.

“Not answering questions is a pillar of your brooding charm,” Triss said suddenly at Geralt as she turned herself a bit to look at the Witcher. Geralt merely looked at her for a long second before he turned himself to walk down the hall again.

“You get used to it, and you get used to talking to yourself a lot too,” you said to Triss as you quickly began to follow Geralt down the hall.

“Pretty sure Foltest is the father,” Geralt said quietly as he walked.

“Eugh, I was hoping that I was the only person thinking that… Sounds more probable now that someone else said it out loud,” Sticking your tongue out a bit, you turned a bit to watch Triss begin to follow you and Geralt again, her face contorted with a bit of disgust as she moved.

Geralt walked through the castle, his eyes seemingly searching for something as he wandered. He was walking with a purpose, and you wondered if the man had caught onto something as he began to ascend a set of stairs that lead deeper into the castle. Glancing at Triss as she and you followed the Witcher up the stairs, the woman seemed to also be searching around the area for something, though her searching seemed less purposeful than the Witcher’s in the moment.

Around the castle’s halls, dust and cobwebs covered every surface seen, and it looked like something or someone had gone around everywhere and purposely knocked down and destroyed most everything. You wondered if there was anything left in the halls that could have been used to uncover Adda’s murderer’s identity, but as Geralt passed by a few doors and stopped in front of one door, you had a feeling that Geralt thought there was still much left in the castle to find for the mystery. The Witcher slowly pushed open the door of the room, and inside was a messy looking bedroom, one not unlike how the remainder of the castle looked.

“Adda’s bedroom. Do you think he cursed her? Foltest?” Triss asked as she slowly moved into the room beside Geralt.

“Maybe.” Geralt, too, stepped into the room, his eyes still wandering around in search of something.

“To curse your…lover. Blegh, sounds awful saying that, with those two…” you muttered as you looked around the room, an uncomfortable feeling dwelling in you as you let your eyes wander over the extremely dusty and cobweb strewn room. Triss made her way to a dresser that sat opposite of the door, and you slowly made your way up to her as she gently ran her hand over the dust covered artifacts.

You were surprised at how well kept the remnants of the bedroom were, and how undisturbed the dresser was. Glancing around the room for a moment, you wondered if the room was left mostly alone in respect for the departed Adda. Turning back to the dresser top, you felt odd thinking about how someone could have respect for someone’s stuff but not enough respect to not curse her and kill her. There was something missing, you felt, and you hoped that you, Triss, and Geralt could find the clue that was needed to shed light on who Adda’s killer was.

Geralt moved away from you and Triss, toward the bed that sat in the center of the room, and you turned to see his face contort a bit. You wanted to ask what he was thinking about in the moment but as you saw the man stop and his nose scrunch a bit, you felt your face furrow a bit, now curious as to what he was smelling. Glancing down to the bed the Witcher was stood in front of, you jumped a bit at the sound of a sudden chime from a music box near you.

Turning away from Geralt and to Triss again, you saw the woman slowly turning the lever to a music box, one with 2 statuettes on top of the box that were spinning as music played around them. The tune it was playing was one that was unfamiliar to you, but it was quiet and soothing, just what you would have expected from a music box. Leaning over and watching, Triss slowly released the lever of the box and began to pull on some pieces that were protruding from the machine. Each wooden peg that was pulled played a chime from the music box and each made a different sound than the others. The sounds from the pegs shot a pain through your head each time they played a note, and you wondered why they sounded loud and more sharp than the notes from the music that was just playing. As the last of the pegs were pulled, a click from the bottom of the box was heard, and Triss released her hand on the box.

Leaning in closer to her, you watched as Triss slowly reached down and slid open a drawer that was on the bottom of the box. Inside the drawer was a lot of papers, some tied up in a ribbon and some just lying flat in the box drawer, and you cocked your head a bit as Triss picked up all the pages and began to unravel the ribbon on the top most one.

“Family documents?” you asked as Triss slowly ran her eyes over the first page.

“…Letters,” she answered as she slowly handed you one pages that was on top of the stack. “From Queen Sancia, Foltest’s and Adda’s mother.” Taking the page gently, you let your eyes skim over the slightly faded print.

“…Oh no.”

“A queen mother cursing her own children for their affair? This could destroy the throne,” Ostrit said as he plopped the letters down onto the desk he was stood in front of.

“Sancia wanted Adda to get rid of the child,” Geralt stated to Ostrit from where he stood near you, watching as the lord’s hands pressed firmly on the desk top as he leaned over the papers.

“Seems they refused. Repeatedly,” Triss said as she stood across the room. Glancing between her and Ostrit, you felt a bit unnerved about the situation. Unsure if it was your lingering headache that was causing the feeling, or the entire situation, you glanced over to Geralt for a moment. His face was strewn tight, his eyes focused directly at Ostrit, and as you glanced to king’s side man still at the desk, you felt your face tighten a bit too.

“And now she’s taken that curse with her to the grave,” Ostrit said quietly as he tapped his fingers lightly on the desk.

“You’ve served the family for decades. Was Sancia involved in dark sorcery of any kind?” Triss asked as Ostrit turned and glanced to her.

“No. Of course not,” Ostrit replied as he finally turned around completely to face the sorceress.

“What was your relationship to Adda?” Geralt asked to Ostrit. As the man turned and faced you and Geralt, you watched as he eyed the Witcher up and down slowly as he thought for a moment.

“Well, I like to think that she saw me as a confidant. And protector, even. We used to talk at great length about her troubles. She could be very naïve,” Ostrit explained slowly, a soft fondness in his voice as he spoke. Crossing your arms over your chest, you leant back against the wall and sighed lightly, unsure of what to think of the situation.

“She ever mention her brother?” Geralt asked almost gently.

“Certainly not like this.”

“She was ashamed,” Triss said lightly, a bit of disgust and remorse present on her face.

“Or she was frightened.” Hearing the proposal, you lifted your head to look over Ostrit, his brow furrowed a bit. “What if the relationship was not… consensual?”

“Hm,” Geralt hummed lightly as he looked to the floor for a moment. “You think he raped Adda, then cursed the child to cover it up?” he asked as he looked over Ostrit slowly.

“Well, kings have certainly done more for less.”

“Humans have always been garbage, haven’t they…” you said quietly as felt your face scrunch a bit.

“True.” Geralt shifted slightly to your side, causing you to look up at the man, and as you saw his brow scrunch a bit, you quickly pulled yourself off of the wall. Hearing the sigh that left the man’s mouth, you stepped away from him and watched as he stepped toward Ostrit, his shoulders much more tense than they had been a moment prior. “There’ only one wrinkle, though,” he said as he stepped up to Ostrit, who had dawned a look of heavy confusion on his face at the sudden shift in tone. The Witcher stepped in close to the man’s personal space, and as you heard him sniff Ostrit up slowly, you tensed up and glanced at Triss who’s face had changed to a look of confusion that mirrored your own. “You scent was on her sheets.”

“Geralt!” Triss tried to step forward to the men, but you quickly moved to her side and put your arm in front of her, stopping her from proceeding. At the new angle, you could see the pure disgust that was present on Geralt’s face, and you felt your stomach grow heavy at the sight.

“That’s why you were…” you muttered lightly as you looked over Geralt and then Ostrit.

“Old ones… and new ones.”

“What would I be doing in a dead girl’s bed?” Ostrit asked, a bit of worry in his voice as he leant away from Geralt. Geralt didn’t recede, and he merely moved closer to the now frightened man.

“I smelled what you were doing.” As Geralt’s head stayed close to Ostrit’s, you could see the surge of fear that took over Ostrit’s body as Geralt spoke quietly to him, and the tension in the air grew heavy, almost stifling as you waited to someone to speak. Gulping and glancing back at Triss for a moment, you saw her expression change quickly to one of disgust. Ostrit didn’t say anything to Geralt as the Witcher withdrew, the man’s expression merely shifting from one of pure fear to one that was a combination of disgust and sadness. The man glanced around Geralt to you and Triss, and you merely glared at him for a moment, something that caused his expression to change to raw anger quickly.

“Foltest had no right!” He yelled out suddenly. “He seduced Adda! Abused his position!” Turning away from Ostrit, Geralt moved to stand by you as you lowered your arm finally. “He was always nagging her for attention. Always nagging! But he didn’t love her. I did!” Geralt’s expression changed slowly to a softer one as he moved and faced Ostrit again. You felt your fists tighten as Ostrit spoke, and you couldn’t stop your glare from hardening as you eyed the man up and down slowly.

“You cursed the woman you loved?” Triss asked, disgust heavy in her voice.

“I cursed Foltest, not her.”

“Countless are dead because of your jealousy.”

“A child is cursed and suffering because of you, you scum!” you barked at the man as you stepped forward a step. Geralt quickly caught your shoulder, but you merely shrugged him off as you conceded to stop moving. Your jaw clenched in anger tightly as you stood before the man, and pain shot through your head from the pressure building, but you didn’t care as your anger was overpowering the pain.

“Countless are dead because of Foltest! He spoiled Adda with his seed. He refuses to kill this striga. He lies to his people. And yet you wag your finger in my face,” Ostrit said loudly. You felt disgusted at the man, your fists still clenched tight as you listened to the man try to justify himself, and another bit of pang shot through your head as you ground your teeth a bit.

“If you wanted him to suffer, you could have just exposed the affair,” Triss said to him.

“And hurt Adda? Never. Her memory will not be sullied, not while I’m alive to protect it.” Hearing the soft fondness in his voice again, you wanted vomit, wanted to grab at him as he spoke, but you merely forced your fists and jaw to relax slowly instead.

“Oh, that can certainly be arranged…” you said quietly as you stepped toward the man again.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Tell us how to lift the curse,” Geralt commanded at Ostrit. Ostrit looked between you and Geralt, his eyes shifting quickly as you stopped just in front of him, your angry face merely inches from his.

“No. Foltest will watch as Temeria turns against him. Just as he turned Adda against me.” Hearing the words from his mouth, almost not believing what you were hearing, your fists and jaw clenched again, much more tightly than before. Ostrit gave you a stern look as you stared him down, and you had to physically force yourself to look away from him as you glanced back at Geralt.

“Hm.” Geralt nodded slightly, barely enough for you to see, but as he did, you turned back around and met eyes with Ostrit again, his brow furrowed tightly. You sighed lightly as the man looked over your face for a few moments, neither of you saying anything to the other. Bringing your fist up, the man glanced at it for a moment before you forced it into his cheek with all the strength you had. Ostrit quickly fell to the desk behind him, his body crashing into it and then sliding off and onto the floor. Stepping back a pace, you let your eyes wander over the unconscious man slowly, looking for signs of movement. Seeing none, you spat at him.

“That’s enough,” Geralt said lightly as he knelt down next to Ostrit.

“…Scum. Picked a bad day to be scum,” you said as you shook out your hand slowly. “If I wasn’t still hungover, I probably wouldn’t have just broken something in his face.”

“Oh, for fucks sake.” Seeing Foltest’s men standing in front of the Castle’s entrance was the last thing you wanted to see. Already aggravated about having to carry the very heavy supplies around, you felt your headache throb again as you and Geralt stopped on the bridge to the castle as the armored men starred you down. Geralt pushed his hand out to you for a moment, and as his other drew his sword, he sighed lightly while the guards quickly pulled out their weapons and took stance just as he did. There was a tense second of silence in the air, and you looked to each of the men as they stared Geralt down in the moment where no one moved.

“Oh-so quick to violence,” said a voice from behind the men. Quickly the men dispersed, their weapons still drawn but their bodies moving aside to reveal Foltest walking toward you and Geralt. Shifting a bit, you felt an odd feeling in you at seeing the man again. “Strange, considering what Miss Merrigold told me about you.”

“And what’s that?” Geralt asked as the king stopped in front of his men.

“She told me…to trust you!” Foltest said, his voice a bit mocking as he motioned his arms around. A mocking chuckle came from the king, and you could see Geralt tense a bit at the display of distrust. Foltest’s face quickly changed from a laughing one to one of curiosity, however, and the man stepped forward slowly, stopping just in front of Geralt. “Will this work? Answer honestly,” he inquired quietly. You weren’t sure you would have been able to hear the king speak if you weren’t so close to Geralt and you doubted that any of the armed men could hear the man speak to the Witcher. You wanted to step closer, to hear what Foltest had to say more clearly, but as you glanced to the uneasy men behind the king, you decided again moving.

“I don’t know,” Geralt answered quietly and truthfully.

“Will my…” Taking a second to form his words, Foltest licked his lips, his face shifting between concern and discomfort in the moment. “Will my daughter… be normal?”

“She’ll need special care. She’s lived as an animal. All she’s ever known is… rage and hunger.” Looking down to the floor, you saw Foltest’s face shift again to a look of sadness, and you felt a tinge of sympathy for the man as he thought. Geralt sighed lightly as Foltest looked up to him, and as the Witcher turned to you, he motioned for his bag. Shifting yourself a bit, you handed it to him slowly, curious as to what he was doing. He opened the small pocket on the side and pulled out a broach.

You knew of Geralt’s broach, knew that it was important to him, but the Witcher never explained its importance to you. You had asked only a few times about it, the few times you had seen it out of the bag it was normally kept in, but each time you asked about it brought a strange look to Geralt’s face. The man never answered you, he never even acknowledged that you had asked him a question as he quickly tried to put the broach away, and so you never pushed him about who’s broach it was or what importance it held.

Geralt paused a moment as he held the pendent in his hand, his thumb running over it softly, and you glanced up at him. He lightly sighed as he looked over the broach, and then to the distance past the castle bridge. You followed his gaze, but slowly brought it back to him when he shifted to move back to Foltest.

“Geralt?” Watching as Geralt slowly handed the broach to Foltest, you tilted your head a bit, torn between wanting to ask again who’s broach it was or just leaving the question unasked. Reshifting Geralt’s bag over your shoulder again, you watched as Foltest gently took the broach from Geralt.

“What is this?” he asked as he slowly looked over the pendant with extreme curiosity.

“For the princess. If I can lift the curse. A gift,” Geralt explained, his face soft as he spoke.

“…You’re giving me this because you do not expect to see morning,” Foltest said softly as he looked at Geralt and then to you. You slowly looked away from the king, and to the bridge’s side as you lightly sighed. Death wasn’t something you wanted, but it was always on the table when it came to a Witcher’s job. Geralt had explained that to you in the very beginning, made it very clear the risks of being around him. You merely accepted the risks however, feeling more comfortable and more safe around the Witcher than anywhere or anyone else in the world that you were in that wasn’t your own, even after he had taught you how to defend yourself.

“This isn’t my first time trying to save a princess who others see as a monster,” Geralt said quietly to Foltest.

“What happened to that princess?”

“I killed her.” There was a long moment of silence between the men, and as you glanced up from the bridge to look at them, you saw the soft and sad look on Foltest’s face and the unreadable expression on Geralt’s. Neither said anything as they looked at each other, but you knew what each was saying to the other as their eyes met. Foltest finally moved after what seemed like a long time, and he stepped closer to Geralt, his head moving closer to the Witcher’s ear. You weren’t able to hear what he was saying, and from where he stood, you were unable to see his lips or Geralt’s face.

“…I envy you. To live and never have to fall in love,” Foltest said when he finally moved back from Geralt. The king gently patted Geralt on the shoulder before he began to move passed the Witcher. His men followed, each of them avoiding you and Geralt with as much distance as they could as they crossed the bridge to head back to the winter castle. You sighed lightly as the last of the men finally stepped off of the stone, and you turned to look at Geralt.

“Alright, Mr. Cryptic. Let’s rock.”

“Witcher, this is madness! What are we doing here? What’s happening?” You took great pleasure in tying Ostrit up, something you weren’t sure you would have ever enjoyed before today, but as you tightened the rope on the man’s wrist and he yelped a bit from the harsh feeling, you felt quite pleased with yourself. Stepping away from him, you could see the pleading in Ostrit’s eyes, and you merely shook your head at him.

“How can I lift the curse?” Geralt asked from across the room, his arms crossed firmly over his chest as he looked outside at the falling snow.

“No, this is not right! Foltest must pay for what he did!” Ostrit said as he struggled against his bindings.

“Explain that to her.”

“Carry me out! I order you!” Struggling more against his bindings, Ostrit grew desperate and looked toward you. Turning your head away, you looked over to Geralt who was slowly turning to look toward the bound man.

“Tell me how to lift the curse,” Geralt said simply. There was a long second of silence as Ostrit considered his options. His hands reached and grabbed at the ropes that bound them, and he tried to tug at them for a second. Feeling no give, the man released his hold and shifted his eyes between you and Geralt for a few moments as he tried to decide what to do.

“She-She was hiding from the Brotherhood. She sold me a lamb. She-She told me to wait until a full moon, to wait and then to kill it,” Ostrist began to explain, desperation completely coating his voice as he spoke. Geralt knelt down to be at the man’s level as he spoke, and you watched as the Witcher’s face slowly furrowed as the desperate man spoke. “And then I recited some silly chant. And then I bathed in the lamb’s blood until sunrise. Until the rooster crowed three times. And that is all. I swear. I swear! Now please let us leave.” Hearing the pleading from the man, you turned and looked down at him, his face contorted in extreme fear as his eyes flew between you and Geralt quickly again.

“What was the chant?” Geralt asked after a moment, his voice as heavy as his face in the moment.

“It was years ago. It was elven. Um…” Ostrit moved his head around as he glanced around the room, his eyes quickly shooting between different objects as he thought hard. “What-what was it?” Looking down and grabbing hold of the ropes near his wrists, the man began to sputter out words in elder, words that you were unable to understand as he spoke and words that made Geralt’s eyes widen. The man shot up quickly and moved to the supplies you had set down near the dresser as Ostrit finished speaking.

“Geralt?” Turning quickly to watch, Geralt grabbed his small bag and about ripped it open, quickly pushing his hand inside in search of something.

“The- I-I’ve done what you’ve asked! What more can I do?” Ostrit pleaded from the ground as he too watched Geralt. Stepping closer to the Witcher, you saw the potion the man pulled out and held in front of himself. Gulping a bit, the man glanced at you for a moment before he looked over to Ostrit with a glare.

“Nothing, unless you can keep a striga out of her crypt until the fucking rooster crows three times.” Geralt had been cruel to people before, cruel to people who deserved it from their actions and crimes they had committed against fellow humans, but you had never heard the extreme bitterness in his voice as he spat at Ostrit, and you shivered a bit from the tone.

Geralt once again glanced at you, his lips speaking no words to you as his eyes showed you the combination of desperation and determination the man held inside himself, knowing full well what could happen in the follow hours. Grabbing the bag of supplies that was placed near you, you refused to remove your eyes from Geralt’s, wanting to show him the same feelings he was showing to you in the moment, and you stepped toward the man slowly. Neither of you said anything for a second as you stopped near him, your free hand coming up and resting on the Witcher’s shoulder gently, and it was only when a gasp of breath and words came from Ostrit that you both broke eye contact with Geralt as the man began to drink the entire potion in his hand.

“You’re gonna have to fight her till dawn…”

As the moon shone high in the sky and as the snow refused to cease its falling, the scrapping of stone onto stone echoed through the castle, and you couldn’t help but turn to face the entrance to the bedroom as the noise bounced around. Geralt, too, looked, and his face furrowed a bit at the noise. He stared toward the entrance for a few moments before he began to slowly walk toward it. Glancing back at Ostrit for a second, you huffed and then began to follow the Witcher.

“No. No. Come back here! Please. Please!” Ostrit pleaded as you and Geralt left the bedroom. “You’d leave a man bound to die in such indignity?” Hearing the man speak, if the situation were any different and the tension and fear wasn’t so thick in the air, you would have laughed at him and his horrible sense of irony, but you kept your lips shut tight as you and Geralt turned down the hall.

“You’re not a man,” Geralt spat out quietly as he walked. He turned to you and looked down at you as he walked, his eyes and surrounding skin black as the sky that was laying as the backdrop for the castle. “It is your time to leave,” he said as he looked over your face slowly.

This wasn’t the first time you had seen Geralt’s eyes and skin turn black from one of his potions, but you wondered if it’d be the last time. The first time you had seen the change was a surprise and happened during a circumstance you still regretted to the day.

It wasn’t long after you had first appeared in the world, and you were still getting used to everything (the people, the monsters, Geralt’s sense of humor whenever he’d let it show) when Geralt had gotten an inn room in a town somewhere, and had told you to stay behind as he went off to complete a job. You didn’t want to listen to him, sick of being stuck in random rooms and not able to help or do anything as the Witcher went off to hunt, sometimes for days on end.

And so you had waited for the man to leave before you went to the person who had hired him and asked where the Witcher was off to. The person was hesitant to tell you, but you charmed them into telling them where the monster was. As soon as you knew, you ran off to the place and to find Geralt, to help or to watch, you weren’t sure when you had started moving.

It was raining when you had arrived at the swamp, and you were drenched as you drug yourself through the wetlands, your pants and boots waterlogged and slogging through the deep waters. You were glad you had brought your cloak to find the Witcher, as it held off at least some of the rain from your face, but as a large splash of water appeared in front of you suddenly, one that was taller than you were, you were thrown back into the swamp’s water and were quickly overtaken under the water by something strong.

You weren’t sure what had happened immediately after you had been thrown back, your memory splotchy and in pieces from the day, whether from the fear and adrenaline that was coursing through you or from the lack of oxygen from when you had remained under the water for too long you weren’t sure, but you did remember being pulled from the swamp and onto solid land, a strong arm having taken hold of your back as it drug you. The first thing you had seen when your face was cleared of the mud and swamp plants was the struggling form of a monster, one you’d later learn was called a kikimora, trying to make its way toward you. It struggled as it was missing many of its arms and legs, and it was doing little more than shuffling its way toward you while making loud screeching noises, but the sight was enough to make dread run through your entire being.

You had tried to run away from the beast, but your arms and legs did little more than push water around on the ground while you tried to push up to stranding, and the hand that was holding you had to lift you and push you further away from the monster. You finally looked at who the hand was attached to, and the sight of Geralt, his eyes black as a void and his skin more pale than you thought possible for a living being, froze you in place as the rain slowly washed off pieces of mud from your clothing as you sat. He was angry, and his face was covered in small cuts that were bleeding lightly down his cheeks. His hand had let go of you completely before the man turned back to the monster and raised his sword again.

The kikimora was only alive for a little bit longer, and it was when Geralt cut the head off of the beast that you were able to finally raise yourself to standing, fear no longer the prominent emotion coursing through you. The Witcher hadn’t said anything as he turned back to look at you, but the anger and frustration in his eyes had told you everything you needed to know as you had waited patiently for the man to walk toward you on more solid land.

The walk back to the inn was more quiet than you had hoped it would be, and it was only the sound of you sniffing that had broken the tense silence as you walked behind Geralt. The Witcher didn’t hesitate to look back at you, his eyes still blackened around, but softened as he looked over your crying form. Although he was carrying the head of the kikimora in his left hand, he had extended his right arm to you only a moment after he saw you crying beneath your soaked cloak. You hadn’t hesitated for a single moment and quickly jogged up to him, your arms curling around him as you seemingly attempted to attach yourself to the man with how hard you had grabbed on.

Tension had spread through the entirety of Geralt the moment you had touched him, almost like he was surprised that you had accepted a hug, but it had quickly disappeared soon after. You never brought up why he had tensed at your touch, but you had always wondered secretly what made him tense up, whether it was you or the hug.

“No, it’s not,” you said simply. “What’s important to you is important to me. You’ve kept me safe, protected me, and I’m going to be there to protect you and what’s important to you.” Taking your bag off of your shoulder, you gently let it fall to the ground as you smiled gently at Geralt. “Now.” Slowly kneeling down and opening your bag, you pulled out the long silver chain that was inside and gently handed it to the Witcher. “Let’s get ready.”

You could hear the striga walking down the hall from far away, her footsteps heavy on the stone floor stairs as she moved closer to where you and Geralt stood behind the corner of the stair well she was descending. The Witcher tossed you a look, and you nodded lightly at him as you tightened your hold on your shield. You inhaled lightly as Geralt moved to walk around the corner and you stepped after him, turning quickly so your back was to Geralt and so that you could see the beast standing on top of one of the platforms in the stairwell. She screeched as she saw you and Geralt, a noise that sent a sharp pang through your head as you stared her down.

Glance to the side, you watched and heard as Geralt began to spin the silver chain in his hands, its end hitting the ground repeatedly as he swung it. After a few hits on the ground, Geralt lunged forward and released his hold on the chain, sending it flying at and around the striga. He pulled it tight quickly as it made contact around the beast, and the chain pulled taut around the her as she screeched loudly. You watched as the silver that touched her skin burned it, small wisps of smoke rising up from all over as the cord held her still.

The chain didn’t hold her for long, however, and she quickly broke through the silver, the individual pieces of broken metal flying wherever around the hall, something that caused you and Geralt to take a step back at.

“Fuck.” “Oh, fuck!”

The striga lunged at you and Geralt from a top the platform, and you tried to move forward quickly to duck under her, but Geralt’s hand met your shoulder too quickly and he pushed you to the side just before the monster landed on top of him. You stumbled for a few seconds, your eyes wide and seeing the man wrestling with the striga on the ground as you found your footing. Once you did, however, you pushed off the ground hard right at the striga with your shield raised high, and you pushed the beast off of the Witcher.

You tried to push forward on your shield as you made contact with the striga, tried to push yourself away from her, but you found that you were unable to do so at the angle you were falling and just accepted falling on top of her instead as you let go of the handle, hoping to be able to keep the cursed princess down while Geralt stood himself up. A hand quickly found its way to the back of your armor as you began to fall, however, and you felt yourself pulled back by Geralt as he struggled to get you and himself away from the striga. The beast screeched as she was on the floor, and swiftly threw your shield to the side with ease as she tried to roll herself back onto her feet.

The two of you stumbled back quickly, and you stumbled back a little farther than Geralt as you watched the striga finally jump to her feet. The beast screeched loudly again as she raised her arms, and she lunged at you and Geralt again, her claws coming down as she neared you. Geralt ducked under her reach, his arms coming up to grab onto her wrists as he neared the ground, and you quickly lunged forward as the striga was momentarily halted. You brought your foot up and kicked into the monster’s side, sending her flying back toward the stair well, and as she landed harshly on the ground, you pulled Geralt to standing by his hand.

The cursed princess didn’t stay on the ground, however, and as she rolled onto her front, she kicked off of the ground and flew to Geralt and you once more, claws raised high up once again. She collided with Geralt, who in turn collided into you. and sent you flying back from the pair as they began to wrestle again. You slid on the ground for a moment, and as you heard the frantic breaths of Geralt trying to fend off the monster, you scrambled your limbs around to quickly rise up to stand.

“Get down!!” Hearing the command, you quickly dropped down flat to the floor in reflex, used to listening to commands from the Witcher on the spot, and as you looked up toward the man, you saw the Striga fly above you and down the hall. Geralt quickly rose to his feet, and almost panickily ran over to you, his arm raising out and high as he moved closer to you as his other came down toward you. You spun around on the ground and grabbed onto Geralt’s extended hand that you used to raise to standing. The man pulled you harshly, however, and you stumbled at bit behind Geralt for a moment just as he cast Aard, and you watched as the force sent the striga farther down the hallway while you gained your footing again.

You were panting as the Witcher broke a torch off of the wall, and you glanced at him for a second before you turned your eyes back to the Striga. She was scrambling to get to her feet, and Geralt took the moment to look back at you. He saw your rapid breaths, and he cursed under his breath as he turned back to face the Striga once again. Only a moment later, the monster came after you and Geralt again, and you braced yourself to catch Geralt as you thought the monster was going straight for him.

Geralt went to hit the beast in the head with the torch he held, but as the Striga ducked down and lunged off of the ground and at you, the Witcher and yourself were surprised and taken back by the sudden movement. You were knocked back by the monster, her claws attempting to rip your armor apart as she struck. Your armor held strong, however, and you were only pushed back by the monster, but as you flew away from where Geralt was, you weren’t able to stop yourself from slamming in the ground, your body and head colliding with the hard stone floor suddenly.

Your ears began to ring out loudly as soon as you hit the ground, and your head throbbed like it had never throbbed before as you laid dazedly on the ground. You tried to move your hands up to your head to cover your ears, to try to help the sound that was piercing through them, but you found that your arms weren’t wanting to cooperate with you in the moment and so you merely laid your arms over your chest lightly. You were unaware of what was happening around you in the moment, your vision fuzzy and blurring as you tried to focus on something, anything above you, but as you felt the earth shake around you, you knew you needed to get up, and fast.

You rolled yourself onto your side, your arm shaking as it supported your weight when you rose up, and you lulled your head to the side to look to where Geralt and the Striga just were. Gasping a bit at the sight of a large hole in the ground and the absence of either of the beings, you shakily tried to raise yourself up all the way. You rose to your feet slowly, and as you tried to stand all the way up, you found that you needed to support yourself on the wall to keep your knees from giving in and dropping you right back to the floor.

You carefully stepped toward to new fissure in the ground, your hand sliding against the wall as your arm braced you and kept you upright, and you felt pure fear running through your veins along side your adrenaline as the ringing in your ears refused to cease. Stopping at the edge of the hole, you glanced down below the floor, your eyes quickly catching sight of Geralt who was laying on top of the rubble from the collapsed floor and who was unmoving. You called out to the man, and despite you being unable to hear your own words, you tried to listen for any shifting from the man.

He did not move, however, and you cursed as you slowly slid down to sitting with the help of the wall before you carefully threw your legs over the edge to dangle into the hole. You took a deep breath in as you steadied your hands on the crumbling and unstable ground, and for a moment you felt a bit of hesitation as you tried to shuffle forward. Cursing loudly, you surged forward and dropped into the hole.

Your legs crumbled on impact with the floor, but your arms flew forward to catch you before your body and head again collided with the stone again. Uncaring for the pain in your legs, you pulled yourself forward to Geralt, and quickly grabbed onto the man’s face.

“Geralt!” you called out to the man. “Geralt, wake up!” you gently patted the man on the cheek as you called out his name, hoping to rouse him from his unconscious state. Realizing that you were finally able to hear your own voice again, you quieted down quickly, only to tense up at the sound of loud breathing coming from nearby. Releasing Geralt and quickly spinning around, you met eyes with the striga who was sitting on the floor only a couple of paces away from you.

She shrieked as soon as she met your eye, and as the noise pierced your ears you moved yourself to standing and then to running as quickly as possible on instinct. You weren’t even thinking as you ran, your body just moving on its own to gain distance between you and the monster that was now chasing you down the hallway. You turned around a bit to confirm that the beast was following you, unsure if you were relieved or more terrified at the sight, but you kept on running. You listened to the footsteps of the striga, making sure that the sound was never too far away from you as you ran through the castle. You tried to knock down as many things into the monster’s path as possible as you ran, and you soon found yourself running the same loop on the ground floor, the obstacles you had placed for the striga now obstacles for you to jump over as you lapped the castle.

You weren’t sure for how long you ran, but your legs felt the pain building in them the entire time, your head’s pain still pounding from its meeting with the ground, and you finally collapsed onto the floor as your energy finally ran out and the pain was too much to handle. You barely had it in you to spin around and face the striga, but as she neared you, you let out shaky breaths as you tried to catch your breath once again. The striga was only a few paces away from you when you decided to close your eyes, an action you did not want to do but did on a scared reflex from your approaching death.

A loud thud caused you to open your eyes quickly, and you watched as Geralt tried to pin the striga to the wall near you. The man and beast wrestled for a moment, the monster still not showing any signs of slowing down as it kept match with the Witcher. It was only when the first peaks of morning light shone through a nearby window that the grapple ended as the striga pushed forward from the wall with all her might and threw Geralt off. The man fell to the ground, and the Striga turned to face past you. Glancing behind you, you saw her tomb, Adda’s tomb, as her target, and you flung yourself back around to meet eyes with the beast again.

“Geralt!!” You weren’t sure where your energy came from, or how you were even moving in the moment, but you pushed yourself off of the ground and into the striga, your arms quickly going around the beast and tackling her to the ground before she could move past you. Your head knocked against the beast as the two of you hit the ground, and as you heard the sound of footsteps growing farther and farther away, you tried to hold on tightly to the monster under you.

The striga had the upper hand, however, and quickly grabbed ahold of you and launched you off of her with ease. You landed on your side and rolled a few feet, groaning at the impact on your body on the stone until you stopped nearby. You weren’t able to hear the striga moving, and it wasn’t until she was at the now sealed tomb that you realized how close you and Geralt were to lifting the curse.

Placing your hands on the ground, your pressed yourself up slowly and shakily, your eyes locked on the monster before you. You pushed yourself to standing again and stumbled toward the screeching beast as she tried to pull the lid off of her tomb. The striga paid you no mind as your legs struggled to take you to her, and her screeching was piercing your ears still. Your head hurt worse than it ever had before, its pain spreading throughout your entire body and into every corner it could with each pang that came from your head, and your legs felt a throb of pain that you felt down to your bones each time your feet would meet the ground. As you neared her, the cries that were coming from the monster only caused more pain in your head, and you only felt the need to make her stop making noise as your head pounded loud and fierce.

Stepping right up behind the beast, you reached out to her without thinking, and as you grabbed onto her firmly, a feeling burst through you, one that emanated from your core. It was a feeling that you had never felt before, one that felt dense in your chest and spread out to all corners of your body, its feeling changing to a numb tingling as it reached the far corners. You weren’t sure how you had even made it over to the striga without collapsing, but as the feeling hit you, you pulled the last bits of energy you had in you to pull the beast from the top of her tomb and yanked her back.

As you pulled the monster down from her place, you felt a surge of force run through your arm, and you quickly released the screeching beast as you threw her behind you. You turned just in time to watch the beast go flying, along with different pieces of rubble that were sitting around the room, a wave of force not unlike one you had seen from Geralt earlier in the day pushing them all away from where you stood. The striga landed against the far wall with a loud thud, and the pieces of rubble that went flying with her landed around her as she crumbled into the floor. Just as sudden as the feeling had appeared in your core, it was gone a moment later, and you felt your knees buckle as there was finally nothing left in you to keep yourself upright.

“What did you just do!?” you heard Geralt yell out from inside the tomb. You didn’t have the energy to respond, and you merely lowered yourself to the ground with the help of the sturdy tomb as you tried to catch your breath. “Hey!!”

“Mother…fucker! Just trust me, goddamnit!” you finally yelled out after a few moments of harsh breathing. The peaks of morning slowly flooded into the room, and you watched as the striga began to scream and contort in place from where she was across the room on the floor, her skin sizzling as the light of the sun covered the room completely. You barely had the energy to keep your eyes open despite very much wanting to do so, and so you resolved to slowly laying yourself onto the nice cool stone floor, your cheek pressing into it lightly as you felt your vision fade away completely.

You bolted up to sitting the moment you heard Geralt cry out, the sound strange and unfamiliar to you. Turning toward the sound, you watched as the Witcher fell to the ground in front of a child, one who was covered in grime and muck and who looked absolutely mortified.

“Geralt!!” Stumbling up and running to Geralt, your knees again gave out and you slid down to the man’s side quickly. Reaching down, you looked at the wound on his shoulder, and quickly pressed your hand into it. “Dammit!” you cursed as blood rushed over your fingers. Your attention was only brought away from the wound by the sound of a growl, and as you looked up, you found that the growl was coming from the girl who sat, very naked, near you. “Oh, oh boy…”

“Hey…Hey there princess. How are you…How do you feel?” You felt a little ridiculous asking the princess how she felt in the moment, knowing full well that she couldn’t understand you at all, but you were unsure what to do in the moment as you held Geralt and continued to keep your eyes on the child. She merely stared you down and continued growling from her place, and you were very glad she wasn’t moving toward you. “Do you…Are you hungry?”

Reaching slowly into your small bag, you pulled out a small piece of dried meat, one you had been keeping as a snack for when you were bored. Hesitantly tossing it toward the child, the girl watched fearfully as the meat landed near her. She, too, hesitantly moved, but as she took the snack from the ground and began to eat it slowly, you felt a bit of relief hit you at the sight.

“Are we…are we friends now then?” you asked quietly as the girl continued to eat. She merely growled at you again, and you sighed lightly at the sound as you pressed both your hands into Geralt’s wound. “Baby steps, I guess…”

“Hello?” Hearing the sudden voice from above, you hesitantly removed your eyes from the child and looked around, hoping to see the source of the voice.

“Hey! Down here!!” you yelled out to whomever the voice belonged to.

“What’s happened?” the voice asked from above. You were finally able to recognize the voice, its clarity getting better the louder it got, and you grinned a bit. “Witcher’s companion, is that you?”

“Segelin! I fucking…I have a name!” you yelled out. Hearing more growling from the angry looking child before you, you clenched down on Geralt’s wound more, hissing as your arm protested the tension. “I hope you brought help with you!” As you shifted in place to look around the room to where Segelin was peeking through the hole in the floor, you heard the princess move a little bit in place and you tensed up a bit. “A lot of help!!”

“Good morning sunshine. You look well,” you grinned at Geralt as the man emerged from the healing wing of the castle. He was covered in wraps and bruises, looking not unlike yourself as you sat on the ledge of a large window. Glancing down at a wrap that covered your arm, you were grateful to Triss and her healing abilities. She had finally been able to give you something for your headache, which you were starting to fear would last forever given how much your head had been knocked on in the past day, but when you downed the potion she gave you, it vanished completely and you almost felt like such a new person that you almost vowed to never drink again. Almost.

“What’s happened in the castle?” Geralt asked quietly as he leaned against the wall near you.

“Foltest is ecstatic to say the least,” you explained as you turned and faced the Witcher. You watched as the man began to pull his hair back and into his usual half-up style, his movements more slow and stiff than usual from his injuries. “At least, he was after his men managed to wrangle his kid back to the castle anyway. It was kind of touchy until she calmed down and stopped trying to bite everyone who got near her, you see.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“He asked why we’d risk our asses for his kid when Triss was patching me up. I told him about Roach, about why we stuck around even after coin was off of the table,” you explained as you kicked your legs slowly in the air. “Don’t worry, I told him it was because I was insistent on staying, so you don’t have to worry about anyone thinking you’ve gone soft,” You couldn’t help but grin a bit as you spoke, feeling pleasantly warm in the moment as you looked over Geralt.

“Hm.” The witcher smiled back a rare, genuine smile, and the sight of it made you smile wider.

“They extended an invitation to us to attend Ostrit’s…ah, vigil was it? I declined, and I told Foltest to expect a similar answer from you,” you said as you slowly lowered yourself to the floor.

“I think he’ll get his answer when I don’t show up.”

“For sure. Let’s go get Roach then. Do you think she’ll be less mad at us if we explain to her what happened here?” Looking over the man’s face, he gave you a soft expression, and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as the man simply began to walk away from you. Walking was the last thing you wanted to do, as even though your headache was gone, the remainder of your body hurt worse from the events of the previous night. You smiled as you walked though, the pain a welcome one as you and Geralt slowly walked out of Temeria to where Roach was waiting.

A/N: Now that I've written up this beast of a chapter, I wanted to ask (cause I've been debating this for a bit now): shorter, more frequent chapters with a definite number of chapters in the story, or longer, less frequent chapters with an unknown amount of chapters? Let me know which you'd like. I'm totally fine with posting a 10k+ chapter, but I want to make sure people are fine with waiting cause these chapters can take upwards of 3-4 weeks to write. Or if you'd rather have shorter chapters posted every week or so where a little less is happening, I'm fine with that too! I could get a schedule going, or something.

Tag List: @riviawitch3r @ayamenimthiriel

#the witcher #witcher fanfic #fanfic #geralt #myfic #my story #text post #read more #second person #reader #the witcher imagine #the witcher imagines #tag talk #3 fucking weeks #I actually proofread this too #don't usually do that #mine

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lawyernovelist · 8 years ago

Text

Reluctant Heroes

I think I have enough tags.

This is a slightly tricky thing to pin down because it's something that can be done well or badly and the difference between them ends up being purely in execution. Nonetheless, when it's done badly it can be done really badly.

Spoilers for the Hobbit movies, The Hobbit, the Hunger Games trilogy, The Force Awakens, Owlflight, and Lord of the Rings.

One of the things that makes this topic difficult is the Refusal of the Call, which is a term I've stolen from Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey. Honestly, I have a lot of trouble following the actual quotes from Campbell (I was exposed to this through Volger's The Writer's Journey, which is way more user-friendly), but the basic idea is that when the protagonist is first asked to go on the quest, she expresses reluctance to go. And this is actually a good thing because it sets up the quest as something that's risky and not undertaken lightly. That's why it does need to be there in some form.

I express scepticism about pretty much every prescriptive structure presented to me, but I am something of a believer in this one, probably in part because it's not that prescriptive. So if I'm so keen on the Hero's Journey and it requires Refusal of the Call then 1) Where does that leave proactive protagonists like Bilbo, Frodo, and Katniss, and 2) What's even the point of this post?

OK, first one first: Refusal of the Call doesn't actually have to mean that the protagonist makes a big performance of not wanting to go through with the quest. To quote The Writer's Journey, "Refusal may be a subtle moment, perhaps just a word or two of hesitation between receiving and accepting a Call". For example, Bilbo initially hesitates to sign on as Burglar, and up until the Council of Elrond Frodo is very clear that he will not be the one taking the Ring to Mordor, especially at one point explicitly offering the Ring to Gandalf. These are both Refusals of the Call, even though both Frodo and Bilbo accept their quests without having to be dragged into them kicking and screaming.

Similarly with Katniss: she willingly volunteers to go to the Hunger Games to save Prim, but she's only volunteering because failing to do so was an untenable position; if Prim's name hadn't come out of the ball, Katiss would never have volunteered. That fact, and her reflections on how dangerous this is, serve as her Refusal of the Call.

I'll also note that Volger does talk about Willing Heroes who do not Refuse the Call. The plot role of the Refusal is then performed by other characters who give warnings about the riskiness of the quest. Personally, I like this solution much less because I can't play it in my head without some hesitation on the part of the protagonist unless she's supposed to be just wandering into danger without even considering the warnings she's being given.

As for the second: protagonists who have to be dragged kicking and screaming into their own plot or who when it's presented to them ignore it piss me off.

I'm sure you've all guessed at at least some of what prompted this post just from my spoiler list. If not, welcome to my blog, always nice to meet new readers. However, the ultimate inspiration wasn't actually the Hobbit moves, it was the Lord of the Rings movies. Specifically, it was Aragorn.

Don't you worry, Bard, Thorin, and Gandalf; your time will come. And it's going to involve favourably comparing Tauriel to every single one of you, so you know you screwed up.

Anyway, the main impetus for this post was actually Aragorn, especially his attitude towards becoming king. In the book, that's his life dream and his aim throughout the story. He has to prioritise other things above it, but it's always made clear that his aim is Gondor. That's where he wants to get, and what he wants to do when he gets there is fight in its wars and become its king. That was even his plan in going with the Fellowship at all: when Boromir peeled off to return to Minas Tirith, Aragorn intended to go with him until they lost Gandalf and Aragorn had to take over as leader of the Fellowship.

In the movie... Not so much. We get scene after scene in Fellowship of the Ring of him insisting that he does not want to become king. He does not want to fulfil his destiny, and that's a known fact: Elrond tells Gandalf that Aragorn has chosen exile and will not act to unite his race and reclaim the throne. That then continues through him never bringing up his identity to anyone in The Two Towers, the fact that Elrond has to tell him that Arwen's dying in order to make him pull himself together, and right down to the fact that when he's crowned he heaves a huge, regretful-looking sigh before standing to face his people.

Even apart from the adaptation thing, this introduces big problems, which I'll go into once I've talked some more about the other case studies I'm going to talk about.

Next up is Katniss. I already talked about her a bit, and the thing with her is that I consider her to be a reluctant heroine done right because she is also active: she doesn't want any of the things she ends up doing, but she's still the ones making the choices. For example, becoming the Mockingjay: she didn't want either the title or the role. After all she's been through, she mostly just wants to hide and come to terms with her own trauma. Nonetheless, she looks at her options and makes the decision to do this thing she doesn't want to do in order to gain things she does want.

Next, Rey. She's not active in the same way Katniss is because she is still being forced into the situations in which she finds herself: the biggest example is when Maz offers her Luke's lightsaber and she refuses and flees, only to run into Kylo Ren and be dragged back into the plot willy-nilly. She doesn't truly accept the call until the climax of the first movie.

Of course, if we're talking about The Force Awakens we have to talk about Finn, whose motivation throughout most of the movie is exactly to escape. He doesn't want to be involved in the fight against the First Order; he never wants to have anything to do with the First Order ever again. Nonetheless, he does decide not to run when it comes down to it.

And, finally, dear Frodo "Here am I, send me" Baggins. He's like Katniss: not wanting to go on this quest, but accepting it anyway. In his case, though, the motivation is different because it's less personal. He also has a staged acceptance, which I think is worth looking at:

He finds out about the Ring and attempts to offer it to Gandalf, but accepts that that's not an option.

He volunteers to take the Ring... but only as far as Rivendell.

He volunteers to carry the Ring to Mordor.

He wants to divert to Minas Tirith and struggles with the decision, but decides to go on alone.

In some ways similarly to Rey, it's not until well into the story - the end of the first instalment of the trilogy - that Frodo truly accepts his quest.

Of course, those aren't the only characters I'm going to be talking about, but they're the main ones.

For me, reluctant heroes start to become annoying when it seems that they're having to be dragged through the story, especially by other characters. Honestly, I don't much enjoy following a protagonist who makes it that clear that he doesn't want to be here. That's one of the big problems with Gandalf in the White Council subplot of the Hobbit movies; because Gandalf so clearly doesn't want to be there, and so clearly isn't actually interested in working to defeat Sauron even though that's ostensibly the point of the subplot and he's the best candidate for protagonist, the subplot is basically dead on arrival. If the characters don't care, why should I?

The problem just becomes worse when the stakes are high and affect people other than those in the protagonist's personal sphere. For example, as far as Rey knows her refusal to get involved in the events around her wouldn't have too much of an effect. In fact, at the time she's running away from Maz, she really has no impetus to get involved at all except that people want her to. It makes total sense that she refuses.

For Katniss, the stakes are higher: her sister's life. But at the same time, if she hadn't stepped in to save Prim, the world would just go on as normal. The effects will still remain confined to Katniss' personal circle. Of course, the stakes do become wider when it comes to the question of her becoming the Mockingjay, but her hesitation isn't actually causing immediate problems.

Contrast Frodo, the most willing of the three positive case studies. As soon as he understands the stakes, he's hesitant and frightened but he does agree to start out on the quest. Had he still refused, I would have been much less impressed with him.

That's kind of why Aragorn being so reluctant annoys me, even separate from the adaptation thing, and Aragorn did not fare well in adaptation. The implication from the scene in Return of the King in which Elrond brings him Anduril and the news that Arwen's dying is that Aragorn didn't just need to be persuaded to become king, he needed to be persuaded to save Middle-earth. That's the implication of the claim that if Aragorn doesn't "put aside the ranger, become who [he was] born to be" Arwen will fade and die as Sauron gains power.

Are you telling me that this guy needs such a kick to get his ass in gear that he would have sat on his hands and let the world be destroyed if it weren't for the fact that if he does that his girlfriend will be among the dead?

That's the big problem with having a highly reluctant hero who has to be dragged through the story when the stakes are high. It ends up giving the impression that the hero is willing to let horrible consequences play out so that he doesn't have to do anything.

Hel-lo Richard Cypher. I didn't make it all the way through Wizard's First Rule, so I'm not going to use you as a case study, but you suck and this is a contributing factor.

Now, again, I don't mind some hesitation. Many characters that I like are technically reluctant heroes. But there comes a point where they do need to make a choice, otherwise I'm just plain not interested any more.

Another example: I just finished a book called Owlflight. It has a very irritating teenage boy protagonist who for three quarters of the book I considered an annoying growth on what otherwise might have been some interesting concepts. He caught my attention and liking instantly, though, when he discovered that the people of his village had been enslaved by invading barbarian hordes and he immediately decided that he needed to do something to help and started using the knowledge and skills he had to come up with a plan. It really was that simple: as soon as this character started doing something about the situation in which he found himself, I was interested.

This is the difference between movie!Aragorn and Rey and Finn: Rey also doesn't pick up her quest until she has to. She doesn't start a rivalry with Kylo Ren until he has actually kidnapped her, threatened her friends, and violated her mental and bodily autonomy. Finn, meanwhile, just wants to escape the situation in which he finds himself. He only seriously gets involved when Rey's in danger. Both of these characters are forced into the plot by their circumstances when they themselves want to escape. However, they are both making the choices that drive their actions. Neither is a passive player. When they pick themselves up to fight, they're doing so when they do still have tenable choices. Not choices that would make them particularly heroic, but tenable. What's more, their reluctance was motivated. They didn't just not want to be involved in the plot, they actively wanted to be doing something else: return to Jakku, escape the reach of the First Order.

Movie!Aragorn, meanwhile, does not seem to be making his own choices. He states that he doesn't want to be king, but he never really has another plan except status quo. Everything is heading in that direction, but he never even seems to think about his choices. Finally, he only sacks up and accepts his destiny when there's no other realistic choice: he's been handed his ancestral sword and told that his girlfriend's dying now and he has to take on the mantle of kingship now in order to have any hope of defeating Sauron. So, with a sigh, he does.

Rey's and Finn's actions were not forced by other people. Aragorn's were.

As I've suggested with Rey and Finn, when reluctance to get involved is prolonged - in Aragorn's case throughout the movie trilogy - there needs to be some real reason the character is reluctant. This was a big problem with him: he didn't seem to have any particular reason to not want to be king. I get not wanting to be involved with the Ring - heck, I wouldn't want to get anywhere near that thing - and that is actually explained: he has a complex about the fact that his ancestor fell into temptation and is afraid that that runs in the family. However, that was actually the unwillingness he seemed able to get over. He never got over not wanting to be king, even once the crown was on his head.

I genuinely don't know what the problem was. Was he unwilling to take on such responsibility? Too much in love with being his own boss and setting his own schedule? Afraid of change? Any one of those would actually be sympathetic, but I don't recall any explanation for what the problem was. And unlike the Hobbit movies, I have seen the extended editions for the Lord of the Rings movies.

Compare Katniss. We know why she doesn't want to get involved in the Hunger Games: very rational fear for her own life and those she would leave behind. We then also get why she doesn't want to take on being the Mockingjay: trauma and resentment at being used as a piece in other people's games, especially given that she has reason to believe that other people's games are now getting Peeta tortured. It makes sense that she's reluctant, so it's not annoying. Her choices are motivated. Same with Rey and Finn, as I discussed before: it's not just that they don't want to get involved in fighting the First Order, it's that they actively want to do something else. As such, their choices are motivated. Frodo is hesitant because he believes he's incapable of fulfilling the quest at first, and also because he's afraid. His initial reluctance to get involved is motivated. This is even where Hobbit-movie!Gandalf gets off the hook: he's unwilling to get involved in opposing Sauron because he actually wants to be with Thorin. I may not agree with his priorities, but his choice is still motivated. Aragorn has no motivation.

And unmotivated reluctance just becomes all the more irritating when the actions the character is reluctant to take would actually serve her goals.

Hi, Bard and Thorin. Your time has come.

Now, I may not be being fair about Bard because I honestly don't know what his motivations were. He wasn't really a very well-developed character, and it didn't help that he, like many others, suffered badly from character derailment between Desolation of Smaug and Battle of the Five Armies.

In fact, that character derailment is rather at the heart of why I call Bard a badly-done reluctant hero. As I've commented many times before, in Desolation of Smaug the movies seemed to be setting him up as champion of the common people and political rival to the Master, and then when he's actually offered power, with no opposition, he seems unable or unwilling to exercise it.

I kind of get an Aragorn 2.0 smell off Bard, actually, but that might just be the fact that they look kind of similar: they both have that grubby, tangled-shoulder-length-brown-hair, manly-stubble thing going on. It is the case, though, that both of them seem to be really unwilling to take on kingship with no real reason for that.

By the way, don't get me wrong: there are plenty of reasons not to want to be a king and I would be quite interested to read about one of these long-lost fantasy kings who was being pushed by destiny into being king when he does not want it, but that would be a different story and would require some actual development.

Anyway, the very little development Bard got was 1) Father, 2) Well-known critic of the Master, 3) Champion of the Common Folk. By the time the second and third are combined, we have a motivation to pick up and rule the people himself, doing better than the Master did. So when the Master's dead and Bard is proclaimed king, he... rejects the title and visibly does as little as possible to take responsibility.

That's why we have a problem.

Why doesn't Bard want that position that will allow him to put his ideas into action? Is it just that he can criticise from the sidelines, but can't act? Because if so I could go for that - that's realistic - but you need to give me something, movie! As it is, it just comes across as that this is a perfect opportunity for Bard, which he's not going to take because... we did it with Aragorn, so we have to do it here, and all heroes have to be dragged into their plots for some reason.

Thorin is a somewhat different problem, and a very weird manifestation of this. Because the thing with Thorin - and, again, I've pointed out many times that this is a major problem with his character - is that he's apparently very driven and very determined and wants nothing more than to reclaim his homeland, but he seems utterly unmotivated to turn his words into actions.

Maybe he's more like Bard than I thought.

Thorin, though, is actually the hero of the story, and he does get a lot of development, which makes it weird that he seems so unwilling to take initiative. He seems to need pushing in some way into everything, and when he's on a course he seems to be unable to handle deviations and interruptions to the point where he gives up upon encountering a serious roadblock. He actually kind of comes across as not being very bright as a result of that mental inflexibility and lack of creativity, but at the end of the day it's basically reluctance to take the initiative. This is a major case where I have no idea what the point was.

Consider Tauriel. And yes, this is the part where I actually compare her favourably to someone. Whatever I may think of her motivations and goals, she does not mess around. She wants her some dwarf, and she's going to go get her some dwarf. As soon as she hears about Kili being wounded and possibly being dead, she hits the road. There's none of this shilly-shallying, none of this refusing to take steps towards her own goals for no reason, she goes.

Frankly, that makes her a lot more compelling, even though I disagree with her and everything she represents. At least she's not having to be dragged into her own plot.

This was also the problem with Gandalf: even though his reluctance was at least motivated, it really let the wind out of the White Council subplot that its protagonist kept trying to escape into another plot. That also shows the dangerous flip-side of motivated reluctance: it's difficult to get momentum into a plot whose main character has every reason not to be involved.

I will say that a main character being dragged into the plot against their will can work well, and this is where I can point to Rey. I'm planning a full post on Protagonist status in which I look at Rey and Finn as a case study, but whether or not she has protagonist status, Rey is one of the main and most important characters. And she does not want to be involved in this quest.

Nor, for that matter, does Finn. He takes actual steps towards leaving before being pulled back in. But I don't have a problem with either of those characters:

Finn didn't have to come back. He made that decision for himself, and picked out a quest that wasn't the main one (defeat the First Order), but which was related and meant a lot to him (save Rey).

Despite being quite literally forced to remain in the plot because she was kidnapped, Rey is still making decisions for herself in terms of whether and how to resist Kylo Ren.

Rey also gains a motivation to go up against the First Order, and promptly takes steps in that direction: as soon as she comes face to face with Ren, and even more so after the murder of her father figure, she stops trying to run away.

The key thing is that when the balance of motivation swings towards involvement, they do both make the decision to become involved. Finn could have shrugged and headed for the Outer Rim. Rey could have told Ren everything he wanted to know about the map to Luke. They both could have headed for the Millenium Falcon after Han was killed. Those weren't forced decisions.

Now, I am fair. Aragorn could have handed Anduril back to Elrond and refused once again to claim his throne. The thing is that for Finn and Rey, the risks inherent in refusing to get involved were much lower. Nobody would have known if Finn hadn't returned; he'd already made it very clear he was leaving, had defended his decision, and had accepted the reactions of his companions. Aragorn, however, was eye-to-eye with someone who has spent years trying to persuade him to be king and is now telling him the very real consequences of his personal refusal. Aragorn would have had to look Elrond in the eye and tell him "I'd rather let Arwen die than be king.". He doesn't have a real choice.

And now I return to Frodo. See, there's a real claim that Frodo doesn't have a real choice either; while the members of the Council of Elrond would probably have been fine with him not volunteering to take the Ring, he himself had already experienced the fact that it would be very hard for him to hand the Ring over to someone else. However, that's not made the basis of his decision in the book, certainly not his decision to take the Ring to begin with - that was to protect the Shire, not because he couldn't give it to anyone else. But to me the most important thing was that nobody was telling him he had to do it. Elrond acknowledges that he seems to be destined to carry the Ring, but he says it after Frodo volunteered.

That's really the difference for me, and when a hero being reluctant to do the thing goes from being annoying to being fine: why it is that they eventually do the thing. Frodo, Katniss, Rey, and Finn make their own decisions to get involved despite their initial reluctance. Movie!Aragorn and HobbitMovie!Gandalf don't; they gets pushed into it by other characters. Movie!Bard doesn't; in fact, from what we see in the theatrical edition, I wouldn't be prepared to say that he ever does do the thing, regardless of why.

I mentioned Joseph Campbell's Refusal of the Call at the beginning. Well, after Refusal comes Acceptance. A hero can be reluctant, but whether in stages like Frodo, in order to avert worse evils or to gain something else she wants like Katniss, or just because when cornered she comes out fighting like Rey, she needs to accept the call.

PS: A bit of recommended reading: Limyaael's Rant on Reluctant Heroes. She talks a lot more generally about the narrative problems of this trope.

#Characterisation.#Lord of the Rings #Star Wars: The Force Awakens #The Hunger Games #The Hobbit #hobbit movies #Rey #Finn #Frodo #Aragorn #Thorin Oakenshield #Joseph Campbell #Structure #The Hero's Journey

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