#(the rest are pretty open about actually being wyverns)

[vixlenxe]

Man, imagine being human

[luna0713hunter]

saw u were gna write for reno and i was so happy bcs i NEED reno fics bcs there js not enough😭

if u could write something like y/n has an inferiority complex towards kikoru bcs she’s always second to her and reno notices this, but on a mission y/n gets heavily injured and he comes in to help… and rest is up to you! obviously u can ignore this as well, have a good day🫶

A/n : omgs hi!!!so happy to see you requesting my dear!! And i just love your idea????? I'm honestly such a sucker for hurt/comfort trope!!!thank you for request darling~ hope you enjoy it!

Take this lonely heart

Reno Ichikawa x reader

sweet and soft,hurt/comfort,injuries and blood

Kikoru is amazing.

That's not as shocking as the first time you've seen her; she's long proven to be most talented person there is in fighting kaiju. She's a pretty girl,with her blond hair and sparkling eyes. And the way she walks like she own every room she steps inside.

She's simply amazing. And that's a well known fact by now.

Skies are blue, the night is dark and Kikoru Shinomiya is a perfect human being.

And as you watch her slice down yet another Yoju with such grace all the while you're holding your bleeding side, you cant help but to envy her. You dont hate Kikoru,no. Far from that actually. But its just frustrating; seeing her fight so effortlessly while you're struggling to keep your eyes open. She rushes around, slicing Kaiju after Kaiju down, all the while keeping her grin plastered on her face.

She looks so happy, so beautifully graceful and strong, that has your throat burning with anger towards yourself.

Why cant you be that strong?

You jump out of the way just as one of the Wyverns dives down, just in time for someone too shoot the freeze rounds. And when the rifle goes off,you know immediately who it belongs to.

You look up from where you're crouched behind a giant boulder to see Kikoru landing the finishing blow on the kaiju.

When she lands on the ground again, she gives Reno a half smile.

Jealousy burns behind your eyes as you watch Reno compliment Kikoru on her performance. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision ; this is a battlefield, with people trying to survive all around you. You dont have time to feel sorry for yourself. You have to fight as well; make sure every one of the Wyverns are death before they get the chance to attack any of the civilians outside the base.

You suck in a harsh breath and hold your rifle tightly as you march forward all by yourself. You know its stupid; to rush head first without any support. But the image of Kikoru and Reno has been burned in your mind, and you cant shake it off.

You need to prove yourself; to your teammates, to your captains.

To Reno above all.

Your rifle is ready to shoot when a Wyvern bursts through a building. You arms are steady, and your breath is shakey. But your aim is perfect.

Or at least, it would've been if another Wyvern hadn't dove down and knocked you off of your feet.

Your head makes contact with the concrete with a loud 'bang' that knocks the air out of your lungs. You can hear the blood rush in your ears along with a deafening ringing as you try to blink away the stars from dancing in your vision. You hear the distance sound of one of the Kaiju's screech, and you reach blindly for your rifle. When your fingers wrap around the familiar metal, you push yourself up despite your head pounding and and your whole body shaking.

You wont give up, no.

Your aim isnt as perfect as before, but when you shoot the second Wyvern in the back with your remaining release power that's probably not much, the Kaiju let's out a loud screech before exploding; sending it's blood and guts flying everywhere.

And although you probably have a concussion, you cant stop the small feeling of joy and victory that spreads across your chest.

But unfortunately, your joy is short lived ; just as you're about to limp your way back to your team, the first Wyvern comes back.

And gods above does it look angry.

The kaiju lets out a loud scream, and raises a claw and before you can even react, you feel the sharp pain explode in your side. And when you open your eyes again, you're laying on your back on the ground as blood pours out of your wounds.

You watch the Wyvern open its mouth, ready to fire, and you think its amazing how the concussion makes everything seem in slow motion. But you think it also sucks; to die in your second battle while your friends still need your help.

The blood coming from your head has made its way to your eyes, and you try to blink it away. You're so tired and dizzy from the blood lost, that you think you're hallucinating when suddenly the kaiju freezes over. Your so busy to keep your eyes open, that you dont even notice Kikoru arriving and taking down the last Wyvern in the area. Every sound seems to come from under the water and you feel awfully cold even in your special suit, but when warm hands hold your cheeks and you hear distant yelling, you know you've closed your eyes without even realizing.

"Y/n!!" The voice is panicked, worried and awfully familiar, "Y/n!open your eyes!!! don't fall asleep!!"

It takes a lot of effort, but when you finally do open your eyes, you're met with a pair of silver-violet eyes.

"Reno...?" Your voice is barely audible, but Reno hears it. He holds your hand tightly as he shifts you in his embrace, squeezing your hand with reassurance.

"Yeah its me..." He croaks, voice cracking, " I'm here... I should've been here sooner, I'm so sorry."

" 's not your fault." Your eyes flutter shut momentarily but opening once more when Reno calls your name with a small shake to your aching body, " I should've been more careful... its my fault for being so weak..."

"What are you talking about?" His hold around your shoulder tightens. You feel him getting up with you still in his embrace; he's probably taking you to the nearest medic around, "you did great. You defeated that Wyvern all by yourself. Without any backup or help."

"But I'm not..." You swallow around the lump in your throat and squeeze your eyes shut when you feel the tears starting to burn them, "I'm not as good as Kikoru. I'll never be as good as her."

Reno gives you a confused look as he rushes forward; eyes searching for the medic Haruichi had mentioned.

"Why are you comparing yourself to her?"

"Because," your sob has Reno stopping in his track; eyes wildly searching for the source of your discomfort, "because...you always keep looking at her...i know she's perfect,in everything, but no matter how hard i try, i cant...." You hide your face in his chest, " be like her for you..."

The man holding you is dead silence. You think you can hear the distant sound of explosion and your captains fighting, but no sound comes from Reno. You've lost enough blood that makes you want to just close your eyes and sleep this horrible day off, but when you feel Reno move again, it has your eyes fluttering open once more.

"Y/n," Reno's voice is stern, a tone you've ever heard when he's begging Hibino-san to not transform to his kaiju form, "look at me... please."

When you comply, he gives you a soft smile; the ones only reserved for you that has butterflies flying in your stomach.

"I dont need you to be like her for me." He pauses and shakes his head with a hint of a laugh, "hell,i dont want you to ever be like her."

You can hear the medics' shouts near by, and judging by the way Reno's face relaxes slightly, you're probably in a safe zone for now.

"I want you to be you. I want the y/n who cried when Senpai got accepted as an official officer. I want the y/n who stayed by my bedside whenever i get injured and doesn't leave until i eat something." His smile grows, softer than you've seen, "i want 'you' who's always there for me. I want 'you', who's strong, independence, and stubborn as hell and sometimes gives me heart attack." When a small giggle escapes from your bloody lips, Reno also lets out a laughter of his own.

He nods to the medic who walks by and motions for him to put you down on the nearest makeshift med. Reno gently puts you down, mindful of your injuries but as soon as you're settled, he takes hold of your hand with both of his own. He smiles, and a suddenly pink dusts his pale cheeks.

"I want the y/n... who I've fell in love with. I want you, no one else. And definitely not Kikoru." Your cheeks feel like they're on fire, but the tired smile you give him is genuine, "i mean, have you seen her? She drives me crazy!"

Your laughter is a small thing but the sound is enough to relax Reno more. The silver haired boy bends down and kisses your forehead gently; making your eyes flutter shut.

"Get some rest. I'll be back before you know it."

You watch as Reno gets up and talks with other teammates. But before he can leave, his name falls from your lips. He immediately turns around and waits for you to say whatever's on your mind with enough patients that has your heart melt in your chest.

"I love you too, Reno," you smile as his ears suddenly turn red, "be safe."

And he only turns his back to Iharu's harsh teasing and trips over his own feet.

"See you soon, babe."

[scarletcitrus]

pagan min as a dragon.............this idea has been in my head for so long i’ve got like prototype pagan dragons and shit but this is my final design for him

if you want to see me go in-depth about him for reasons that are related to mental illness (i have it and it is his fault) there is more :)

okay so. i’m going to explain his entire design since it makes me happy and i’m going to start with the colors

obviously he’s super flashy and extravagant in canon so i couldn’t just Not let that cross over here. i tried to make him look like a living rainbow without actually making him a rainbow BUT i do have my reasons for each of the colors.

the golden orange-y and yellow parts are obviously, well, to represent gold and the fact that he is ummmmmmm Technically royalty despite stealing the throne? the combination of blue on gold is relative to the golden path and how he and ishwari were a thing yada yada . red is for the primary color his army wears and for lakshmana because her whole shrine is decked out in the color red and pink is for his lovely suit:)

...i couldn’t make it that vibrant pink his suit actually is or it wouldn’t have fit as well into the rest of the colors. also. all the colors are taken off the rakshasa pagan thingy but i gave them meaning to make it fancier ++++ it wasn’t my intention but the way his colors fade into each other reminds me of all the colorful ?dust (i don’t know what it is. is it just powder) in far cry 4 so that makes me happy

speaking of rakshasa pagan, the other parts of his design are very much based off of it. specifically, the bird one in shangri-la. i included the way pagan’s rakshasa face looks as best as i could but the rest of the little intricate details i all sponged off of the bird, like the armor and the crown and the huge talons. the crown i felt especially needed to be included if nothing else bc well. y’know LMAO

the vaguely peacock-looking feathers are because that seems to be his motif for himself and his army and kyrat or whatever tf i don’t really know. all i know is i see peacocks associated with him and BAM he gets some pretty feathers

p.s. ik the pose is weird in that image let’s all hold hands and pretend that he’s climbing down from something

okay bear with me . the wing size might be inconsistent but shhh don’t look at that it isn’t there also thanks to tumblr for maybe tanking the quality of these (we’ll see) . ANYWAY

he gets multiple limbs because of the golden statues (or statue singular? is there just one? i haven’t played it but god i want to) that are in his dlc and it gives me another reason to stretch the definition of “dragon” which is always super fun for me :)

his face is mostly immobile aside from being able to blink and breathe and close/open his mouth but it’s like his jaw is on hinges with the way it can only move up and down (and stiffly) because i want it to really feel like he’s got a mask on or something. like if you look at the rakshasa bird its face isn’t all that. mobile. it is made of some kind of metal i think and i tried to mimic that effect + the idea of his mask in the dlc

another p.s.! let’s all keep holding hands and pretending . this time he’s landing after flying. he doesn’t normally stand on two feet

his wings are heavy to the point that his front legs can’t really support him properly sometimes even though he’s got two pairs, so he often uses his wings as support to walk like how wyverns do. he feels like it’s inconvenient because he doesn’t want to get his feathers dirty and without a beak/easy way to close his mouth it’s annoying for him to preen them but that’s just an L he has to take

and this is just him flying 4 literally no reason. i struggle drawing animals/beings that have wings in flight (and also i struggle with the tucked-in legs that come with those) so i wanted to see if i could. i think it turned out okay? maybe

i hope this made sense and that i wasn’t totally incoherent about this! thank you for reading (if you did) (and perhaps expect more dragons... i’m a big fan of them lol)

[monasatlantis]

My Final Fantasy 16 Review (Interview style!)

So I just finished Final Fantasy 16 and thus it is time to write a review, as per usual. In Interview-Style this time, as it helps me be more organized with my thoughts.

Obviously, you should be aware of Spoilers! Seriously, MANY SPOILERS FOR FF16 AHEAD! You have been warned!

How was the beginning of the game?

> I think the game started relatively strong. Because you have A LOT of questionmarks throughout the beginning of the game. Like… “Wyvern?” Wasn’t his name Clive or something? What is that Tatoo for? Why are we hunting Shiva if she is his friend? (Stuff like that I knew from Trailers and Interviews and Scenes they have shown so I assume most people would wonder about stuff like that.) Also… why exactly are we after Shiva in the first place? What kind of war is it that is going on here and what side are we on? Also, even tho most of us have seen at least part of what would happen in the flashback it was still interesting to watch. It was also with that… kind of weird anticipation. Like… you know something bad is going to happen and you just want it to be over with, because you know its not going to be pretty but you have to get through it, like it or not.

Did the game manage to keep up the good pace?

> Sadly no. Around the halfway point, basically shortly after the freaking 5 year time-skip the pacing lets up, the main-missions get more boring and you get swarmed with side-missions which are mostly not worth the time. The story per se keeps being interesting despite certain parts of the plot being obvious, because other parts are not so obvious or don’t even turn out the way you were expecting at all. So it is just like with FF7R. The Plot isn’t the problem, the way the game is designed is. I mean you go from exiting missions to “save the world” in the first part of the game to “go there and there, talk to these and that person and bring me these and that item” and it just feels like SE ran out of ideas and didn’t know how to fill the gap between the big fights, as it sometimes felt a bit rushed, because the world wasn’t as open as some people (not me) liked and so it often felt like we were fighting most of the big fights in one freaking week, as we usually are forced to quick travel back to the hideout from whatever end of the continent we are at right now. I get that they sometimes just wanted to give us some slower missions to calm down and make it look like Clive actually has some damn time to rest instead of running on whatever they have as a coffee replacement in that world XD But it was done poorly. At some point, despite the plot still being interesting, I wanted the game to end. So it actually overstayed its welcome. Even tho it is an around 40 hours game and I played 120 hours games before and felt like that only around 80 hours in in these games, if at all.

Did you do any of the sidequest and plusquest? If so… were they worth it?

> I did all of the plusquest since they are worth the time and effort, because they usually give you something useful. Tho I have to say that some of them should have been there in the first part of the game, instead of as late as almost the last quarter of the game. But I am glad that they marked those quests with a plus, to let you know they are special, because otherwise I would have very likely not done them, since this game has over 70 sidequests and some of them are absolutely boring bullshit that waste your time. Of course, as in any other JRPG there are sidequests that give you something worth doing them, but you never know if they are worth it until you do them. I have done one were I had to give people in the hideout apples. Yes, that was my mission, giving people apples. You can probably imagine my absolute frustration upon taking this request because it just didn’t give you much satisfaction or anything truly useful. On the other hand I had one that seemed relatively useless at first end ended with a nice scene that gave you some inside into the relationship and past of Otto and Cid and felt overall worth the effort. And the ones near the end often give you some sort of closure or some nice moments with certain Characters.

But I have to say that at some point in the game, looking at the map and seeing the overwhelming amount of sidequests there was easily making sure I was not going to do them all ^^’ Especially since the game overstayed its welcome and I just wanted to finish it and not be stuck on sidemissions for yet another day. If they game ever comes out for PC I might replay it and then I do all the sidemission but I am certainly not looking forward to that part of replaying the game ^^’

 Were there sidemission where you thought they should not have been optional?

> One thing some JRPGs never seemed to learn is that stuff that you need in the main mission is not supposed to be in an optional sidequest. So one day, after the timeskip, a Girl names Mid walks in and talks about some stuff and the game treats it like you are supposed to know her and what she is talking about and who her freaking father is and you just have a big ass questionmark over your head the whole time. Because Cids daughter gets introduced in a freaking sidequest and doesn’t even get mentioned once in the mainquest. WTF?! There surely is more stuff that was answered in sidequests, given with how many questions I was left in the end.

A lot of people complain that the devs of FF16 got inspired a bit too much by GOT, is that true?

> I can not tell because I never watched game of thrones and I am very likely never going to ^^’  But what I can say is that there is A LOT of death in this game and even some nudity and mildly hinted at sex-scenes and I guess at least that was likely inspired by watching a show were death and sex are everywhere (according to the people who told me about GOT). So I guess it is possible.

How was the overall tone of the game?

> First of all I feel like this is one of the darkest Final Fantasy games I have ever played and aside from the online-games, I played all starting from 6 (tho I never managed to finish some of them myself) so I’ve seen some stuff. Death and destruction isn’t new to the world of Final Fantasy but in this game it was… almost too much. Like every second town or so you walked in you only found corpses and blood or people who got turned into monsters whos only salvation was death. At first it was shocking, but at some point it felt unnecessary and was starting to get boring. I also wonder how the human race even survived beyond the end of this game, given that what feels like half of the people living in the world of this game were killed, while at least a quarter of the survivors was probably doomed to die a cruel death do to that curse-sickness-thingy and then there was the treat of monsters, starvation do to the plague and…. It really is a miracle that there were people alive for the after-credits-scene ^^’

The game was also very mature. Not just that the cast was overall older and aged throughout the game and thus we didn’t work with a boy who is still half a teenager like Tidus or a young woman who still has some maturing to do like Serah but a bunch of adults and young adults who have been though hell and back and couldn’t really afford being young and silly. But it was also the fact that the overall tone of the game with all the darkness, destruction and death was obviously meant for a more mature audience. And once again, we had nudity and hinted Sex, something we never before had in a Final Fantasy game.

So if I had to describe the overall tone of the game in once sentence I would say dark and mature.

You said some things of the plot were obvious and some were surprising. What is your overall thoughts on that and can you give us some examples?

>  First of all, it was clear as day that it was Clive who turned into Ifrit and “killed” the Phoenix. But the game manages to confuse you a few times so that you start to doubt it, despite the fact that it was obvious, which I found really nice and speaks overall for how good the plot was in the first half of the game.

Joshuas position in the game made it clear he was still alive. You had no idea how it was possible, and it actually feels a bit weird, given how we literally witnessed Ifrit tearing the Phoenix apart, but Joshua just had to be still alive, or otherwise the narrative would have been somewhat different and the game wouldn’t have paid as much attention to him in the short time we had with him as it did. HOWEVER the boy finally shows up again and he already has death flag over his head. He had been sickly before and it was already a miracle that he survived this fight with Ifrit and then he finally comes back and starts coughing blood like he had lung cancer or something bad like that. So when he died of blood loss while still coughing blood, instead of dying in an epic battle to protect his dear brother or the world or something amazing like that, it didn’t even feel shocking. The game made it clear he would die like this from the first moment his adults self showed up coughing blood. No shock here whatsoever. It was sad of course, but not very shocking.

Cid dying too was somewhat something you saw coming. The curse has started turning his arm into stone already, so he would have died of the curse sooner or later anyway. He also has coughed A LOT of blood whenever he had used Ramuh. So it was more a question of when he dies, not if he dies. But at least his death felt satisfying, compared to the ones of most of the other characters. Because at the end it wasn’t the curse killing him, he died like a true hero in battle, protecting the people he cared about. (And yes, I get that in a sense Joshua too died because he took Ultima in to protect Clive but it felt like a really lame death for a character like him and given how he literally survived just to die.)

We all knew from the moment Clive has taken in the powers of two Eikons (or however they were called in English, I played in German for once) that in the end he would need to have the power of them all inside. So the question only was if the people he took the power from will survive. We’ve seen that it was technically possible, but rather unlikely throughout the game. So I think most of us expected the worst for Jill. It was rather surprising that in the end, she just gave her powers to Clive without any epic fight or something like that. It was certainly a nice change for once, but totally unexpected. We all knew her powers would end up with him, but I guess most of all feared she need to die in order for this to happen, given how he never considered taking her powers from her, even after hearing the curse was starting to take root. So that was certainly surprising.

So the plot of the game was a weird mixture of seeing a lot of things coming but also not always seeing how they would come. And then some questions like what Ultima wants with Clive were never really fully answered and weren’t really clear even after the end ^^’ Seriously. They wanted his body, right? But uh… what for? The form we fought in the end seemed perfectly fine to me. Also… if the crystals took the ether out of continent, why didn’t it get better or at least slowed down considerably after we destroyed them? Not to mention, in the flashback, they talk about the plague and how it comes closer and that is why Clives father wanted to take over that damned Crystall. But like 18 years later, Rosaria is still having green grass and all. So why the rush?

The plot was not bad, but it was a bit… uh… of a bad mix of thing being obvious and some questions never really getting an actual answer.

What do you say about the ending?

> It was lacking! Seriously, the ending was absolutely not satisfying at all. It felt like something was seriously missing. I cried a lot, don’t get me wrong. But it was just so… not epic at all. The first fight was basically just a cutscene with some trigger-moments where we needed to push a button a few times to make it look like we were involved somewhat. Then it was Dions time to die and that already didn’t feel right. You know what I mean? Yes, he fucked up as Bahamut when he lost control of his powers but he repent for his sins by just sacrificing himself so that Joshua can get to Clive? He should have lived and help rebuild the continent. Or he could have died actually protecting something/someone that truly mattered to him. It felt like the game used him to get the boys to that place and then they didn’t need him anymore and instead of Clive and Joshua telling him to go back and help the people rebuild the world they just kill him off quickly so that he is out of the way and can not help Clive anymore. His death was certainly not unworthy of his character. Joshua follows soon after and he died bleeding to death, after Ultima freed himself from him and while the curse was apparently eating him alive. As sad as his death was, as unworthy of his character it felt too. He too just came along the way for no other purpose but to quickly die, so that Clive has to face Ultima alone but with the Phoenix full powers. I call this bullshit! After all that happened, Joshua would have deserved a more epic, more satisfying and more meaningful death. Yes, in a sense, he died protecting Clive, but they could and should have done this in a more epic and more satisfying and less rushed way. Joshua only survived in the beginning to die in the end and there is something seriously wrong with that. Its like jumping into the water because you are burning and then drowning in the water that was supposed to save you from the fire. It lacked true meaning. And just with Dion didn’t pay justice to the character and his long and hard journey.

The fight against Ultima was funny enough so much easier then a lot of mini-boss or even Hunter-Job-Fights I had before. So the battle in itself already felt unsatisfying. And then, after everything we have been through, we get that questionable ending for Clive. Yes, he sacrificed himself for the good of the world, to keep his promise and all that. But… none of the boys coming out of this alive felt absolutely frustrating. After that, we watch how the baby is born, you know, the circle of live and death and all and then we see Jill and Torgal suffering, we cry with them and then… that’s it? You do not see any other characters aside from Mid and Gav. No Otto, no Tarja, no nothing. We do not see how the live of the characters goes on after this. How everything deals with their new world and their losses. What about Dions Boyfriend and the little girl whos role I never fully got? What is with Jote now that Joshua is dead? Is the curse gone, now that the Magic should be gone too? Also… in the sidequests were we face Joshuas and Clives fathers will he has a job for his sons that is supposed to help the world become a better place and survive the plague and all and… who is going to fulfill his will, now that both of his sons are dead and didn’t leave any heirs? What was the meaning of this quest if it was wortheless?

I felt… empty after the game ended and not in the good kind of way. I wasn’t satisfied with the ending at all. Shame on you SE! (Also like 30 minutes or so of Credits before the post-credits-scene WTF?!)

And… when exactly did Joshua write this damned book? O.o

In FF15 a lot of people complained about the lack of romance. The previous games after 10 didn’t do so well with romance either. How was FF16 in that regard?

> Much better. Although I found that they overdid it a bit with the 5 year timeskip (not just in the romance department, mind you) it was a nice slowburn romance between Clive and Jill that definitely made you say “FINALLY!”, when they kissed for the first time. We ended up with two canon kisses. Plenty of hugs. Some heartfelt moments and conversations and one optional kiss and hug scene as well as a freaking love-confession. It felt really nice. I still love Tidus and Yuna more, but this is definitely the first ship since them that feels good and right and leaves you with no wishes for them other than… you know… the male part not dying ^^’ We’ve also had our first gay-ship ladys and gentleman. It was… obviously kept under the rock as much as possible, but for a Final Fantasy Game this was a huge step in the right direction. Even tho they dared to kill one part of the ship off in the end. But all ships died that way… so whatever ^^’ I would say Jote and Joshua were supposed to be a somewhat ship, but it felt like he kept her at arm’s length the whole time, because he knew he would die. So… we weren’t going anywhere with this, sadly.

Not much more romance there than that, but it was plenty compared to other games, especially FF15. And if you don’t mind things not being Canon there is A LOT of bromance in this game. Plenty of guys being close. So take your pick and enjoy the ride ;)

You see a lot of players saying how attractive they find the mans of this game, what do you say?

> There is eyecandy everywhere in this game you can totally take your pick here. You like the rough looking kind of cool guy? We have it! You prefer the babyface softie? We have it! You like the more mature looking, smoking mysterious guy? We have it! And if you swing the other way, no problem! We also have a few handsome girls with different looks and characters. Take your pick! We even get some fanservice. There was a scene were Clive was naked and you could see his muscular body from different angles for absolutely no valid reason XD We also have naked woman at times. And lots of exposed male chests, if you like that. Seriously tho, I can not blame many players being attracted to the guys in this game. They are all very handsome and attractive in their own way and you really have a great variety so there is someone for every kind of taste XD

Back to more serious matters… how was the new battle-system?

> As a player who prefers round-based-battle I was very glad the game offered me multiple ways to make battles easier, because they were not easy at all. Pushing all those button-combinations hurt my hand in a way I never thought possible. At first I only picked the mod were I could slow down the game when being attacked so that you have a chance to dodge, but I had to switch over to auto-dodging because I was that bad at it. The fights were doable things to these in-game-modifications but I still wouldn’t say the battle-system was easy. It was doable thanks to the mods the game offered but I am pretty sure I would have given up on the game if they hadn’t been there, because I would have never managed to survive if I had to play without the modifications.

Also… sometimes the battles were really chaotic and I didn’t know were I was or what I was doing. In on battle there was smoke everywhere for half a minute and I was just randomly smashing my button in hopes I would hit the enemy, which thankfully Clive usually did automatic. Something I really missed in this game was a healer. Only using potions and not even being allowed to have as many as possible with me wasn’t exactly to my liking. I should have been allowed to learn some sort of healing magic at some point in the game. Or they could have made Torgal a better healer to make up for the lack of healing magic. I also have an issue with the way the party-members were handled. In comparison to FF7R you can not control them, but you also not have to heal them or give them weapons or anything. But most of the time they also really weren’t a big help in battle. Jill often just walked around the enemies and didn’t attack them much. Torgal was the only one being mildly helpful ^^’ I do not know if I like this kind of system. If I have a party, it would be nice to them being somewhat useful. I would have taken having to buy them new weapons and make them gain experience and give the some attributes if they were actually helpful over what we actually got here. They could have worked with some sort of KI system were you as a player can tell them to “attack” “heal” “use magic” or “protect Clive” or whatever in a menu, so that they would help without us having the need to control them. Other games have done that too.

Any critique aside from the above mentioned?

> Plenty, to be honest. I did not like how some characters were just there to… die. Oliver for example. It was also weird how he was Joshuas and Dions Halfbrother and non of them seemed to be sad about the boy – an innocent child no less – having to be killed because of Ultima. Clive kept calling Anabella “Mother” which seems absolutely weird given all the circumstances. Why did he never start just saying “The douches” or “Lady Annabella” or something like that? Calling her “Mother” sounded like an emotional connection that he should not have to her in the first place and didn’t have when she ended up killing herself for whatever reason other then one more useless character dying quickly. Why did Joshua never search for Clive? Why didn’t he stay with Clive after he saved him before the timeskip? Why did Clive never actively search for Joshua after finding out he is alive but totally lost control of his panic when he saw the Phoenix fighting Ifrit? How did Terrance and Jote survive what happened when Bahamut lost control? And why is it that Joshua immediately went to Jote after waking up but Dion wasn’t frantically searching for Terrance? Given Mids great inventions you are telling me they have to use a firestone to make fire instead of having some sort of lighter in the future? OH! And I almost forgot the battles. One battle after another. You think your done and then comes a stronger enemy. Finally beat that one? Here comes the next! Oh and then we give you a small cut-scene as a break and only then you finally get the actual boss of this sequence. Happened all the time and the element of surprise was gone after they constantly repeated that. Instead it was just annoying as fuck in the end!

Do you think Clive is still alive?

> Lets assume he is… the curse has taken his hand already, how long do you think it would take for him to die a painful and cruel death with the curse turning him into stone slowly but surely? He is dead either way. I would like for him to be alive and I guess the game left it somewhat open for interpretation for a reason… but I seriously doubt he lives. If he did, they could have given us a much more satisfying and fulfilling ending. With him coming home to Jill and Torgal. Telling Jote and Mid that Joshua didn’t make it. Seeing Terrance and the little girl to tell them about Dion. Showing how he start to help the world become a better place, start fulfilling his fathers wishes or leave the continent with Jill to live somewhere else. Meaning that IF Clive is alive and the curse is not killing him slowly but surely, then they could have done MUCH better with the ending and still deprived us of it. Which would suck!

So it is time to give points and say a few words in regard to why!

> Music: 4,5 out of 5 points. The music was good. They used some songs from older games, which was great. But I somewhat missed THAT song, if you get me. The one music that just… stays with you throughout the game. Like “To Zanarkand” did in FF10. That why I take half a point off. Tho I have to say the final songs did sound really nice. Just not… quite good enough.

> Graphics: 4,5 out of 5 points. The graphics were good but somehow at time I felt like the ones form FF7R were better for some reason. I don’t know why. But I totally missed those “OMG the graphics are just so beautiful in this game” – moments that I had plenty of times in FF7R. That is why I take half a point off here too. > Battle-System: 2,5 out of 5 points. To fast paced and thus often chaotic. To hard without the modifications. No healer. No healing magic. And while the Idea with the power of the Eikons was nice and all, I found myself staying with the 3 I felt most comfortable with. So being able to use them all would have been better in my eyes, as it should have made more sense to catch them all, if you get me.

> Characters: 5 out of 5 points. No complains here. They were all easily likably and even people like Benedikta with her story could pull on your heartstrings. So well done.

> Plot: 3 out of 5 points.

So much wasted potential once more. The first half of the game was so great but then it felt like SE ran out of ideas and were rushing through the end-part once again and just… left to much open or put important stuff into sidequests and… you know… just wanted to kill as much people as possible and sometimes they just created characters so they could be killed. It was… not a bad plot, but it wasn’t blowing me away either. I enjoyed it only for the first half of the game. So I was generous not giving it less than 3 points. So that makes 19,5 out of 25 points. Which would likely mean 8 out of 10 points. But I honestly am not sure if I shouldn’t give it 7,5 out of 10 points instead, because of the lacking ending.

All in all it was a nice game, the ending has just pulled me down a bit with disappointment. I enjoyed playing it mostly blind for once and I guess it was worth finally getting a PS5.

[gaijinhunter]

Monster Hunter Rise: 2nd Trailer and news blowout

Hey guys this is Gaijinhunter. I am uploading this as a text post since I caught a cold and have been unable to edit a video.

There was a huge second wave of news for Monster Hunter Rise with the reveal of the 2nd trailer the other day during the Game Awards 2020 show. Keep in mind the actual full length trailer is much longer and better than the shorter edit they showed during the show so makes sure you watch it. It showcased a second map, 2 new monsters, several returning monsters, and more. They also updated their official website with a ton of information so instead of doing a trailer reaction or breakdown, I am going to give you all the info they shared but split up by category, trying to focus only on the new stuff.

New Map

Director Ichinose hinted in an interview that one of the new maps would be nostalgic and boy he wasn't kidding. The Flooded Forest from Third Generation has been massively remade and is back in MH rise. Of course given this game’s focus is verticality, there is no underwater combat sections but they really nailed it from what I can see. One of the most iconic parts of the forest was the ruins in the backgrounds, and now you can scale up it using the wirebug. How cool is that. 

With the new map we also got the reveal of 2 new monsters.

First up is the mermaid wyvern, the Somnacanth. This marks the much hyped return of the leviathan class of monsters which were missing in world and iceborne. This Monster looks so wild. It has a special breath that will put you to sleep, is super aggressive, and has this crazy taiko drum like chest in which it will grab oysters and other things and bust them against it to break them open and buff itself. The Japanese name is quite a mouthful and is called Isonemikuni. This is the monster that Ichinose teased with his cute drawing on twitter.

Next up is the tengu beast, Bishaten. This monster is really unique, it looks like a mix of a monkey, bat, and bird. It has a huge and powerful tail it uses for massive mobility and it will chuck various fruits at you as well. One of the most iconic fruits it throws are persimmons, which are very Japanese and if you haven’t had them before, they are kind of an acquired taste. It’s Japanese name is Bishutendo. 

For returning monsters we have a few. First is our favorite sponge, the Royal Ludroth. This is a fan favorite and a great early to mid game monster. It has one of the best move sets in my opinion, very telegraphed but it can still catch you off guard even if you are super used to it. Strategically figuring gout where to stand in order to cut off its tail or break the sponge has always been really fun and intersting so I’m delighted to see this monster return, also look at that texture of the sponge!

Then we got the return of the Great Wroggi, the anti-poison skill tutorial monster. This thing really messed me up back in MH3G until I spent the time to get the materials to craft anti-posion decorations and even then, like the Great Izuchi, it fights really well with its sidekick small wroggis and I cant wait to see the improved cooperative AI that they are making for the Great Izuchi applied to this monster as well. It’s armor also spots a really cool Crocodile Dundee hat and look in the trailer and you can see the palico armor as well. So cool.

Finally, we got a small scene that appears to show a snow map and a group of baggi getting hit by a Khezu lightening shot. Does this mean the Great Baggi will return? Not sure. But that scream 100% is a Khezu, and I cannot wait to see how it looks with higher resolution texturing, I bet it will be creepy as heck. So while not technically confirmed, I’d say it’s safe to say Khezu is returning in some form. The balance of all these monsters is so great, I love the selection so far.

As far as other returning monsters that might return, I think we all expect nargacuga and zinogre. These are flagship monsters from games directed by Ichinose and he even tweeted his palamute and palico both named after these two monsters. Especially given the Japanese aesthetic, I think it’s pretty much guaranteed they are returning. Then I think mizutsune is also highly likely given its Japanese design, the fox theme, the kimono armor. Plus the model for it doesn't look that far off from the new Somnacanth. Anyway I have super hyped.

Interaction with animals and endemic life

One of the huge features of Monster Hunter Rise is the focus on wild life and animals to buff your hunter or be used as tools during a hunt.

There are 4 major types of Endemic Life: Temp Buffer, Permabuffer, Hunting Helper, and environmental.

For Permabuffer, we got a new render of the Spiribirds, which will buff your hunter if you move near one, and the effects depend on the color of the pollen it is carrying. Green increases your max Health, Orange increases your defense, red increases your attack power, and yellow increases your max stamina. There is even a special rainbow colored one, which I assume will buff all 4.

Via their website, Capcom announced a new item called the Petalace, a bracelet made of a plant called a Sending Sprig that each hunter has equipped. This is what collects the pollen from the birds and buffs your hunter. There is a variety of Petalaces in the game and some may increase the amount in which an attack boost is applied from a single Spiribird, raise the max value that health can be boosted, and more. Here in the screen shot we can see the caps for each and the amount gained for each buff. Just a quick note but this is not going to be replacing charms as we know that they are giving away a talisman for pre-order.

For Temp Buffer creatures, they revealed the name of the Clothfly, a butterfly that will temporarily increase your defense once you interact with it and cause it to generate a cloud of dust. In previous videos we have seen Peepers that reduce stamina usage, birds that raise your base stats, and a dragonfly that boosts your affinity and I had calculated it out to being applied for 90 seconds but we’ll have to wait for hte final game to see if that depends on the effect or if they change it, but it sounds about right.

For Hunting Helper creatures, we got an adorable new render of the Stinkmink. You can carry up to 5 Hunting Helpers and use them like items. The Stinkmink can be used to cover yourself in a special pheromone that will attract large monsters to you, even allowing you to lure one monster toward another to cause a turf war. I personally can think of other applications like luring a monster toward a trap and stuff like that.

And for environmental endemic life, they didn't show it in the trailer but there are also wildlife that can be used like environmental traps. For example, use raw meat and the giganha fish will go crazy, damaging anything nearby be it a hunter or monster. I can’t wait to see someone hunt a Great Wroggi using only raw meat. I love that we finally will have more use for this item.

NPCs

In the new trailer we got to hear several of the NPC villagers talking and on the website they go into a lot more details. They have quite the star-studded cast in Japanese and the English voice actors are also very interesting picks. This really marks the first time in Monster Hunter that the main cast of villagers will all be called by name and speak, which I think adds a lot of personality to the game.

First we have Fugen the village elder of Kamura and skilled long sword user. 

Then we have Hinoa the Quest Maiden, a cheerful and optimistic girl who serves as the quest giver in the village while her twin sister runs the gathering hub. While not announced in any other language, the French and Italian language sites for the game list her sister’s name as Minoto. Hinoa’s name is Hinoe in Japnaese and for the rest of the cast their names are identical between the two languages.

One thing I am excited for is that they said that one of the ways they will help communicate the uniqueness of Kamura is through songs and they shared a sample of one of them in the full trailer. This one is sung by Izumi Kato. If you remember back in Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate they featured songs by the wyverian Diva, and I am so happy they decided to do songs again, they add so much richness to the world and are just lovely to listen to.

Next up is Yomogi, our village chef. In this game you will eat meals at her Tea Shop, where her speciality is the Bunny Dango she makes along with the help of some palicoes. I love that we’ve seen her in past videos with a heavy bowgun, so the idea that all the villagers are active participants in the story is great. 

Then we have Hamon the blacksmith. He used to hunt alongside Fugen back in the day but now creates weapons for the hunters of the village. His grandson also appears in the game and is a kind-hearted youth that loves your hunting companions.

Next is Kagero the merchant. Despite his mysterious appearance he is actually very warm and kind. If there is a sale going on, not only can you buy most items for half off, but you can also participate in a lottery where you spin a wheel and it dispenses a colored ball. Get a rare color ball to win a rare prize. You can do it once per sale, but you can also scan an amiibo to spin two more times, but only once per day per amiibo you own.

Finally we have Komitsu the sweet-tooth, she sells candy apples in town. What these do is still not yet revealed.

Companions

We got an adorable render for the Cohoot, the pet owl that shows the positions of monsters on your map. You can interact with it in the town and even dress them up in fancy outfits.

Kamura Village

We got gameplay showing that the entire village is open to the 4 person multiplayer session and you can even ride around on your palamute and use your wirebug while in the village to zip around and have fun. There is still a gathering hall but the ability to see each other in the village as well as jump around and really explore it is a lovely change they are making.

Story wise we got more info about the Rampage, both a story mechanic and new quest type. For some reason the monsters will sometimes gang up and attack the village all at once and no one knows why. They call this a Rampage. There was a really bad rampage 50 years ago that nearly destroyed the village and in response the town has created a Stronghold to stop further invasions. This looks like a new quest type with multiple monsters all at once, and a slew of different artillery options at your disposal. I could see this as being a really fun type of quest to do online with other players. 

And of course the most exciting news was that there will be a demo in January with more details to come later. That is far earlier than I expected and I now have to finish up my back catalogue of games in like the next month.

And that about wraps it up. Cpacom said that they will be sharing weapon preview videos for all 14 types very soon and if they do the way they used to do it, we’ll get one new video a day for 2 weeks. I hope you enjoyed this recap of the news and please let me know down in comments what you thought about the second trailer. And until next time, happy hunting.

[jaskicr]

babe babe babe listen. for buffskier i got a stupid idea of jaskier jokingly promising geralt to carry him over the threshold of kaer morhen and then when geralt manages to forget it, he actually DOES it when they finally go there. the witchers are both amused and impressed because damn, that's so funny geralt but also if i could maybe borrow the strong bard please?? ily

OMG THAT’S SO FUCKING CUTE thank you for this ily💓 i hope you like it<3

“One day,” Jaskier grumbles, wriggling about in Geralt’s arms. “One day, I’ll be the one carrying you.”

Geralt tightens his arms around Jaskier and grunts, “Stop moving around, Jaskier. We don’t need your wounds getting worse before we get to a healer.”

“I’m serious,” Jaskier insists, pouting. “Not that it isn’t nice to be all wrapped up in your strong arms, darling, but we should try it the other way round sometime.”

Geralt is pretty sure they’ve tried it the other way round once, when a royal wyvern had injured him so much that Jaskier had to carry him back to camp, but he’d been rather out of it at the time. It’s a shame that he hadn’t been fully able to enjoy being in Jaskier’s arms for a change, and he wonders what it would feel like to have Jaskier carry him for once.

“Well, if you’re that adamant,” Geralt drawls, rolling his eyes. “This winter, you can carry me over the threshold of Kaer Morhen. How does that sound?”

He’s joking, of course, but there’s a glint in Jaskier’s eyes, a glint that means mischief. “You said it, Geralt. I’d be happy to.”

“Sure,” Geralt mutters, knocking on the healer’s door.

Just before the healer ushers them in, Jaskier gives Geralt a slow grin. “I’ll hold you to your words, Geralt.”

Then the healer is fussing over Jaskier, treating his injuries, and Geralt promptly forgets the conversation in favour of worrying over Jaskier.

He forgets all about this exchange, thinking it just another jest in their usual dynamic, and once Jaskier is healed, they set out on the road as they always do. The months pass as they have for the past decades they’ve been travelling together, a comfortable routine of Geralt taking contracts and Jaskier performing in various establishments, and this joke fades from Geralt’s mind.

That winter, they make their way to Kaedwen and make the trek up to Kaer Morhen. Geralt had never dared to take Jaskier up to his home before, fearing that Jaskier’s mortal body wouldn’t be able to withstand the harsh climate and unforgiving terrain, but with the recent discovery that Jaskier isn’t, in fact, human, Geralt’s worries have dissipated, and he’s eager to introduce his bard to his family.

Finally, Kaer Morhen looms over them, an imposing stone fortress as grey as the winter landscape around it.

“Wow,” Jaskier murmurs as they approach, eyeing the majestic mountains wreathed by mist and coated in snow. There’s an awed look in his eyes, and Geralt preens slightly, pleased that Jaskier finds him home pleasing.

Anticipation grows in his chest when the gates of Kaer Morhen come into view, and Geralt has no doubt that his brothers must be rushing down to greet them. At the thought of finally seeing his family after a year, and of Jaskier finally meeting his family, a small smile curls at Geralt’s lips, and then he’s being swept off his feet.

He yelps in surprise (Geralt will deny that this sound came out of his mouth to the end of his days) when he finds himself cradled in Jaskier’s arms, one arm hooked under his knees and the other supporting his back.

Jaskier laughs, a clear and bright sound, and Geralt looks up to see Jaskier’s blue eyes sparkling at him in amusement.

“What the fuck, Jaskier,” Geralt growls, finally finding his voice, and Jaskier beams wider.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Jaskier asks with another laugh, and Geralt tries to wriggle out of Jaskier’s arms, only for Jaskier to clutch Geralt closer to him, grip tightening.

“Let me go,” Geralt demands, but it’s half-hearted. He’s never been held like this before, but he finds that he quite enjoys being carried like this, wrapped up safe and secure against Jaskier’s chest.

“No can do, love.” Jaskier starts walking towards the gates, and though Jaskier’s grip on him is secure, Geralt hooks his hands around Jaskier’s neck to secure his position and to pull himself closer to Jaskier. “You said it, remember?”

“What.”

“That I could carry you over the threshold of Kaer Morhen,” Jaskier reminds him, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Geralt’s lips, his steps never faltering. “I said I would hold you to your word, and here we are.”

“Hmm,” Geralt grumbles, but doesn’t protest further. It turns out that it’s very nice to be carried, and he’s amazed at the strength in Jaskier’s arms, not a quiver of exertion as he carries a muscle-heavy witcher.

He wouldn’t mind if this were to happen more often.

Then he hears the sounds of his brothers, and he snaps his neck in the direction of their voices, just in time to spot them opening the gates. Their eyes widen in comical unison when they spot Geralt’s position, and when a slow, shit-eating grin starts to spread across Lambert’s face, Geralt resigns himself to a winter of relentless teasing.

“Well, hello, Geralt.” Lambert is smirking widely as he approaches them. “And who do we have here?”

Eskel has his arms crossed, but an amused smile plays at his lips as he watches Geralt willingly be carried by a bard. Vesemir’s face is stoic, but Geralt makes out the telltale twitch of his brow that indicates he’s trying to hold in laughter.

Unable to sweep into a dramatic bow with Geralt in his arms, Jaskier settles for dipping his head. “I am Jaskier the bard.” Even though he’s unable to gesture for dramatic effect, Jaskier somehow enunciates every word to be overly theatric. “You might know me as your brother’s bard.”

Jaskier has been holding him for a few minutes now, and he seems fine, utterly unconcerned with Geralt’s weight, and for a fleeting moment, Geralt wonders how long Jaskier is capable of holding him for, and the thought of exploring Jaskier’s strength sends a small thrill through him.

They might be spending a lot of time in Geralt’s room this winter.

“Oh, we know who you are,” Lambert replies, and Geralt has a really bad feeling about what might come next. “We’ve been wondering when Geralt would finally bring you to see us. Gods know that he’s pined after you long enough.”

“Lambert,” Geralt hisses, mortified. A blush creeps up the back of his neck, and Jaskier chuckles in amusement.

“Pining after me, huh?” Jaskier drops a soft kiss to Geralt’s forehead, and Geralt feels his face grow hotter as Lambert lets out a raucous laugh.

“He has it bad for you,” Eskel confirms, and Geralt shoots him a betrayed glare. “For quite a long time as well.”

Jaskier laughs, and at the beautiful sound, Geralt can’t quite find it in himself to be mad at his brothers, not when they’ve managed to make Jaskier laugh like that.

“I might steal your bard,” Lambert comments, looking at Jaskier appreciatively. “Any bard that can pick up a witcher is rather impressive.”

Geralt growls low in his throat, and Eskel joins in with a grin.

“You’re too prickly for him, Lambert,” Eskel teases, turning his grin on Jaskier. “I’m sure he’d rather go with me.”

“I’ll consider it,” Jaskier says teasingly, and Geralt feels an irrational spike of jealousy. “Picking witchers up has proven to be rather fun. I might let you have your turn to be picked up.”

“Neither of you are taking him,” Geralt rumbles, trying to get out of Jaskier’s arms to launch himself at his brothers, but Jaskier’s grip tightens on him, rendering his struggles futile.

“You’d better appreciate your bard, Geralt,” Vesemir adds. “Your brothers seem rather taken with him.”

Another growl, low and possessive, rips from Geralt’s throat, but his brothers only laugh in amusement as Vesemir looks on with fond exasperation.

“He’s mine,” Geralt asserts, tightening his grip around Jaskier’s neck, pressing their bodies closer.

“You know, Jaskier, if you ever get tired of Geralt, I would very much be appreciative of a strong bard who can pick me up easily,” Lambert says as he starts walking backwards into the keep, and it’s only Jaskier’s grip on Geralt that prevents him from lunging at his brother, something primal within him growling mineminemine.

The rest of them follow Lambert into the keep, and the moment Jaskier steps over the threshold, he lifts Geralt higher and captures his lips in a sweet kiss. Geralt hums in contentment and tightens his arms around Jaskier’s neck, happy to stake his claim in front of his brothers, ignoring their whistling and catcalling.

When Geralt finally pulls away at the sound of Lambert’s exaggerated groans, Jaskier is smiling at him softly.

“See, I told you that I’d carry you over the threshold of Kaer Morhen.”

“You did.” And that gets Geralt thinking about the strength in Jaskier’s arms again, and suddenly, he has an urge to show Jaskier his room. Right now.

“My room is that way,” he murmurs in Jaskier’s ear, and is rewarded with a slow grin filled with dirty promise.

Then Jaskier carries Geralt all the way to his room, and that night, Geralt explores Jaskier’s strength in new and exciting ways, falling apart underneath his strong, beautiful bard.

[hobgayblin]

Interrupted Peace

Ship: Hunting Party (Mylo/Reverto)

Words: 1,139

Summary: Touching gay cuddle moment ruined by absolute bastard lizard

————————————————♡———————————————— The night air was filled with a calm quietness, the only sounds that could be heard were the indistinct chattering of birds and the other creatures that called the forest their home. It was a stark difference to the roars and commotion of the hunt earlier that day. Mylo sat in the dimly lit tent, gingerly wrapping bandages around his partner’s injured arm. It was nothing too serious, the Tigrex’s tail just managed to graze Reverto’s arm as it ran away, deeper into the jungle. The bandaging probably wasn’t even necessary, it was nothing a potion couldn’t fix, but Reverto wanted to be dramatic and lay in his makeshift bed fake-wailing about how much it hurt until Mylo agreed to patch him up. Once the bandages were secured, Mylo placed a kiss to the wrapped up wound and looked up to see his partner sleepily smiling at him. 

“Are you better now? Done being a baby?” Mylo asked as he scooted himself closer and reclined against Reverto’s side.

“I dunno…” Reverto wrapped his arm around Mylo as the smaller man cuddled up to him, “I think I need more kisses to like, really make sure it’s alright.”

Mylo let out a soft laugh as he looked at the other man’s grinning face. A hand came up to brush Reverto’s fluffy golden bangs away from his face so Mylo could press a kiss to his forehead. More quick kisses were placed on each of his cheeks, and then finally a longer one against his lips. The hand that was holding up Reverto’s bangs gently traced down his face and rested on his cheek. When Mylo pulled away from the kiss he kept his face close for a few moments, staring into his partner’s sweet honey colored eyes as his thumb lightly rubbed his cheek. Reverto’s strong arm squeezed Mylo closer and he closed the distance between their mouths again, earning him a light giggle against his lips. Once more they pulled away and stared adoringly at each other, but only for a moment before a stream of water hit Reverto directly in the face.

Reverto reeled back with a sound of disgust as the water sprayed him. His large hand dragged down his face to wipe it off and flick the water droplets away. Mylo’s hand shot up to his own mouth and stifled a laugh as the wet man grimaced and opened his eyes back up. Both of the hunters turned their heads to find the source of this assault. To the surprise of neither of them, they saw the snout of a Great Wroggi just slightly poking through the side of the tent entrance. Mylo choked back another laugh at the sight of his riding companion’s nose poking through, the rest of her face was hidden by the thick cloth and leather of the tent.

“Duchess!” Mylo scolded half heartedly, in the same way one would scold a dog for doing something bad but ridiculous.

The Great Wroggi poked the rest of her head into the tent and trilled in response. Her head tilted  from side to side very quickly as she inspected the interior. Reverto glared at the beast as he took a stray cloth and wiped his face off from her attack. She trilled, almost innocently at him again before looking back at her rider. 

“Why are you so mean to Reverto? You apologize to him and go to bed right now, rude woman.” Mylo scolded, still not sounding fully serious about it. 

The bird wyvern looked back at Reverto, who had his arms crossed and huffed angrily at her. There was a drawn out pause, where everyone was quiet, no one moved an inch, waiting to see how this “apology” would go. Then, after a few moments of silence, another jet of water came from Duchess’ mouth and sprayed Reverto once more. A peal of laughter erupted from Mylo before he could cover his mouth again.

“Oh that’s it you overgrown--” Reverto wiped his face off again and shot up to chase after the now retreating monster. 

The large man disappeared behind the flaps of the tent, and then moments later was sent stumbling backwards back through them. He let out a pained “Ughh” and put a hand to his chest as he fell back onto his bed. Mylo couldn’t help but snort at how quickly that little spat was over. Before he helped Reverto situate himself back into a comfortable position, Mylo had to wipe a few tears from his eyes from how much he was laughing. Reverto laid there, a sour look on his face as he rubbed his sore chest.

“Why does she hate me so much?” Reverto questioned as Mylo layed back down next to him.

“She’s homophobic,” Mylo joked, bringing his hand up to gently rub circles around Reverto’s chest. “I think she’s just a little too protective of me… or maybe jealous that you’re getting more kisses than her.” 

“Man… I didn’t think I’d have to compete with a monster over kissin’ a dude.” A long, weary sigh came from Reverto as he sprawled out across the bed. 

“You don’t gotta compete with anyone,” Mylo leaned in and peppered a few kisses around his injured chest. “You’ve already won the kisses, she’s just a sore loser about it.”

He continued to kiss and softly rub his chest as Reverto’s arm hooked around him and pulled him closer again. Duchess could kick pretty hard, but Mylo knew she wouldn’t do it hard enough to actually injure him. Maybe just bruise him a little. The kisses trailed up Reverto’s chest all the way back to his lips. A pleased hum escaped the large hunter as Mylo brought his hand up and pulled his face closer for a gentle kiss. Reverto rolled onto his side so he could deepen the kiss and wrap his arms around his tiny partner. When they pulled away, Mylo cuddled as close as he could to Reverto and rested his head in the crook of his neck. Reverto sighed again, but it was a content sigh this time.

“Duchess, lights out.” Mylo called out, nuzzling his face into Reverto’s neck.

After a few moments there was the sound of the campfire being put out, and the area darkened. The only light they had now was the incredibly dim blue glow of a mushroom lamp Reverto had hanging from the top of the tent. Reverto rolled over onto his back, and kept one large arm wrapped around Mylo’s shoulders. In turn, Mylo brought his arm around and rested his hand on Reverto’s chest once more. In the morning they’d have to track down that Tigrex again and take care of it for real this time, but for now they could enjoy a nice rest in each other’s arms.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Wyvernlair

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Three

A JSE Fanfic

Ta-da! Another chapter! :D This is the one I was talking about, with a lot of worldbuilding and new characters. It’s also one of my longer stories, and I had to cut out a scene near the end, but don’t worry, you’ll see that next time. Now that Chase is officially part of the Masked Phantoms, it’s time for him to get to know the layout of Wyvernlair, meet new people, and learn new things. So get ready for a whole lot of all that. Hope you guys enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

It was clear that Jackie was eager to have someone new to show around Wyvernlair. He led the way, pointing out important features of the camp. Most of the center area was taken up by tents for people to stay in. In addition, there was an area dedicated to cooking, with campfires and stacks of pots and dishes, a wide, clear area for people to practice sword fighting and other combat, and a large space for storage.

All this was fairly normal for any camp. Or at least, that’s what Chase figured, considering he’d never been in a camp of any kind. But he was pretty sure that the massive skeleton made Wyvernlair much different than any other camp. Every bit had been planned around the bones embedded in the ground. The tents were encircled by the dragon. The cooking fires were dotted around the leg bones. The combat field was spread out along the wings that extended out from the rest of the body. And the storage was inside the oversized ribcage, canvas stretched over the gaps to keep out the weather.

Inside the ribs was the most incredible place Chase had ever been. He kept his head craned upward, following the curve of the ivory bones, each one big enough that it would take three full grown men to encircle it. The storage inside the ribcage was much less impressive in comparison, though he did have to admit he’d never seen this amount of weapons, armor, parchment, and foodstuffs in one place. Not to mention all the miscellaneous items as well, like lanterns and chests for storage.

“Oh, you need a jacket!” Jackie suddenly said, bringing Chase back to the conversation. “You can take one of the communal ones, over here.” He grabbed Chase’s hand and pulled him to the side of the ribs, where the chests were full of various clothing, each labeled with types and sizes. “Unless you’re a cloak person?”

“Uh, no, I...jackets are good,” Chase said dazedly.

“Great! What are you, a five?” Jackie waited for Chase to nod, then headed over to the appropriate chest. “We don’t have that many fives left...a lot of people have measurements around there.” He flipped open the chest lid. “Um...yeah, there’s just one. Hope you like yellow.” After a bit of rummaging, he pulled out a dull flaxen jacket and tossed it in Chase’s direction.

Chase fumbled for a bit before catching it. It was a fairly normal jacket, and he quickly pulled it on. Autumn in the mountains was not a time to walk around without one. He’d been chilly all through their walk.

“Alright, all that’s left is the skull,” Jackie said. “I don’t know how often you’ll be in there, but it’s good to—”

“I’m sorry, I’m still caught up on the fact that I’m inside a dragon skeleton,” Chase interrupted.

Henrik, who’d been following the tour quietly and letting Jackie do all the talking, suddenly burst into laughter. “I told you. It is shocking, isn’t it?”

“Well...yes!” Chase looked back up at the curve of the ribs above him, slowly shaking his head. “I heard dragons were large, but I didn’t really...picture it, before this.”

“Technically, this is not the skeleton of a full-blooded great dragon,” Henrik said.

“What?”

“The dragon that most people think of, with four legs and two or more wings? That is a great dragon,” Henrik explained. “I’m sure you noticed this one only has two legs; it was likely a wyvern/great dragon crossbreed.”

“Hence the name ‘Wyvernlair,’” Jackie added.

“What’s the difference?” Chase asked.

“Wyverns only had two legs and larger wings. They walked a bit like birds do,” Henrik continued. “And they were usually much smaller. There are some accounts of humans riding them. So this was either an abnormally large wyvern, or it was a crossbreed with the great dragons. Which, yes, could grow as big as this, but that was not so common.”

“Elders,” Chase muttered. The fact that there were once creatures as large as this roaming the land, big enough to encircle half a town...it made him glad they weren’t around anymore.

“It was really lucky that we found this place,” Jackie said. “Not because of the skeleton, but because of its location. There are no trees growing near the bones, so we have room to spread out, and we have our backs to a rock wall, which makes it more defensible.” He paused. “Anyway, the last part on our tour is the skull, and then we can set you up with a tent. Oh, actually, the spare tents are kept here. Let’s grab that now.”

“I get my own?” Chase said, surprised.

“Of course, we have plenty to spare,” Jackie said casually. “We brought a whole bunch up, but recruitment has been slow.”

“Nonexistent,” Henrik muttered. He reached into one of his belt pouches and took out a small flask, taking a quick drink.

“Well...yes,” Jackie admitted. “But let’s go, we’re almost done!”

The skull was just as massive as the rest of the skeleton, with wicked sharp teeth as tall as Chase. He stared at them as Jackie and Henrik led him around to the back, where there was a slight gap where the skull met the spine. They passed through that gap and ended up inside. Much like the ribs, the skull had been converted into a room, with canvas blocking the eye sockets and nasal cavity to make a rough roof. This wasn’t as large as the storage, but it was still at least three times as large as Chase’s cottage. There were more chests in here, and a few rickety desks where people—masks always nearby—sat, reading and writing on parchment. They all glanced up as the three men entered the room, then looked away.

In the middle of the skull was a large circular table, made of solid, dark wood and surrounded by chairs. Various maps were spread out on the surface of the table, held down with weights.

Chase glanced at the largest map, and immediately recognized it as a map of the kingdom of Glasúil. A detailed one, too, covering almost all of the island. The Dragon’s Teeth mountains ran down the center, with the smaller Northaven range branching off to the east, along the northern shore. The Southern Moors were present, slowly merging into the sea. Rivers and forests he’d never heard of crossed the parchment, and each major town and city was represented by a labeled black dot. The only part of the map left blank was the area to the west of the Dragon’s Teeth, which simply had “Wyldwood” written across it.

“Oh hey, you like the maps?” Jackie asked, noticing Chase’s attention. “We use those for planning stuff. A lot of strategy and meetings happen here. This is also where we keep all our records and sort through all our messages with other Phantom locations. Since you’re part of the group now, you’ll eventually go on missions, and if that’s the case, you’ll have to write a report and deliver it here.”

“Missions?” Chase repeated. His head was starting to swim a bit with all the new information.

“Well, if you want to,” Jackie said awkwardly. “I mean, you could stay here and do medicine with Henrik, or be part of our administration—”

“Administration?” This time, Chase laughed a bit when he repeated the word.

“Organization is very important,” Schneep emphasized. “There are a lot of us, and we do a lot of things. If we have no organization then we do not know what we’re doing!”

“Yeah, and those things we do are...missions,” Jackie said.

“Alright, what kind of...missions?” Chase asked.

“Depends. We might need to investigate someplace, or something, or someone. We might need to go in and stop an act of injustice, or rescue people who’ve been hurt.” Jackie paused. “If...if we’d heard about the King’s plans for the mountain villages to burn, then we could have...shown up. In time.”

Chase felt his stomach twist at the mention of the burning villages. There was guilt in Jackie’s voice; he clearly felt awful that the Phantoms couldn’t do anything to prevent that. “Well.” Chase took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll have to make sure things like that don’t happen again.”

Jackie nodded. Henrik placed a hand on his shoulder, and that seemed to steady him. He drew himself to his full height and stiffened his posture. “Exactly. The King may think he can get away with any of this, just because of his position. But the people will not stand for it. We will not stand for it. As long as his actions cause death and damage, we will work to remove him.”

For a moment, Chase was in awe at the resolve Jackie showed. He wasn’t that physically intimidating, being almost a head shorter than Chase and a head and a half shorter than Henrik, but he had a commanding aura. Maybe the strength of his conviction was catching. “Exactly,” Chase said. “That’s—that’s what I want to do.” His simple statement sounded lame in comparison.

Jackie smiled. “And that’s why we’re so glad to have you.” He relaxed a bit, looking over at Henrik. “And if Schneep likes you, then I do, too.”

Chase couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I-I’m sorry? What did you call him?”

Henrik’s expression fell. He took his hand off Jackie’s shoulder and pushed him with his shoulder. “I told you, stop using that.”

“But it’s so fun to say,” Jackie said cheerfully. “Chase, did you know that Henrik’s surname is Schneeplestein?”

Chase fought to stifle his giggles. Now he remembered that particular fact from his first meeting with Henrik. “That’s—well, I’m sure that’s a usual surname in Alterde—”

“It is not,” Henrik said wearily. “It sounds just as ridiculous over there. Go ahead, laugh about it. Get it out of your mind now.”

“No no, I’m fine, I promise.” Chase coughed a bit, clearing his throat of laughter. “At least you have a surname.”

“Ah, it is common to have one where I am from,” Henrik waved away the comment. “I know here it is a nobility thing, but not in Alterde or its neighbors.”

“Really?” Chase said, interested.

“Really. And it is much easier than your family names,” Henrik said bluntly, turning to leave.

“Hey! Wait for us!” Jackie took Chase’s hand and the two of them followed Henrik out of the dragon’s skull.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Chase? Are you awake?”

The first thing Chase heard when waking up was someone calling his voice. Instinctively, he rolled over and stretched his arm to the right. Only to be met with nothing but empty space. Oh. Right.

He opened his eyes to a canvas wall and ceiling. He’d gotten his tent yesterday, and Jackie had shown him how to set it up in a spot near the dragon spine. From there, the rest of the day had passed slowly. Awkwardly, too, as Chase didn’t feel up to approaching any of the masked people who were part of the Phantoms. It felt...strange. Like he was constantly intruding on something. So he just spent time in his tent, and when dinnertime rolled around, he showed up to get some stew from the cooking fires then went off to eat on his own. Eventually, the sun set, and he figured that was time to go to bed.

“Chase?” The voice called again.

“Henrik?” Chase asked, sitting up and wiggling out of the bedroll he’d been given.

“Oh, you are awake. Can I open the flap?”

“Go ahead.” It wasn’t like he was indecent or anything. He was actually still wearing his clothes from the day before. Maybe he should check out the storage, see if they had anything else he could use.

Henrik pushed open the flap of the tent and ducked inside, pushing his owl mask up onto his forehead. “Ah, good. I have something for you.” He held out a folded piece of parchment.

Puzzled, Chase took it. “What is this?” He asked as he unfolded it.

“Well, now that you are a Phantom, there are some things you need to be familiar with,” Henrik said. “Jackie put together a schedule for you for today.”

Chase silently looked at the words. He blinked. Then squinted. Then looked back up at Henrik. “Um...I’m sorry, but I...can’t read this.”

Henrik didn’t even have a response for that. “You...cannot read?”

“I can, but only a little,” Chase admitted. “I know the alphabet and numbers, but as for words, I can read what I’m familiar with. Food, animal names, archery gear. Things like that.” He trailed off into a mumble, somehow embarrassed. Reading had never been an issue before. Everyone in town knew enough to get by. But now, he wondered...was that not normal?

“That’s okay,” Henrik said, picking up on Chase’s tone. “Jackie was the same way. We had to teach him.” He chuckled a bit at the memory. “I will explain, then. After breakfast, you will meet with Nemet in the infirmary, she will give you a basic medicine check. To see what you know and fill you in on anything you need. Then you will head down to the tip of the tail, and meet a man there called Tripp. I understand you do not know that much about magic, so he will give you an overview. Then there will be lunch, and then you will head to the combat field to start training with Holly and Lukas.”

Chase started. “What was that last name?”

“Lukas,” Henrik repeated. “You will probably be working with him more, since you seem inclined with bows, and not closer combat.”

“Right.” Chase nodded. That name sounded familiar, like he’d heard it recently...

“Then come back for dinner, and I will check up on you,” Henrik continued. “And by then, hopefully you will know what you want to do most in the group. Medicine, organization, and such. And we will get you a temporary mask.”

“So, why masks?” Chase asked. “I like the idea, but...why? Who came up with it?”

“Oh, the mask concept was Jackie’s idea, but the animal part was added by—by someone else,” Henrik said. There was an odd pause there...was he going to say something else? A name, perhaps? “We wear masks so people will not recognize us. Many of us have friends and family who would be at risk if the King’s people knew we were working against him. Like, for me. You know I am a traveling doctor, yes? Well, when I met you last year, I was already working with the Phantoms. Can you imagine what would happen if someone recognized me as a rebel?”

Chase shivered. “Yea, I can.” If the King was willing to burn down the mountain villages for an unknown reason, what would he do to find one of the rebels? With that thought in mind, he slowly stood up. “So...I’ll get started, then. Meeting with all these strangers.”

“Do not be nervous, Chase,” Henrik said gently. “Everyone new we find has to go through something like this. And these are some of our best people.”

“Thanks,” Chase said. “That’s good to know.” Still, his stomach was slowly tying itself in knots as he headed towards the cooking fires, about to start the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a quick breakfast of toasted bread—light, but with those stomach knots, still hard to get through—Chase headed up the gentle slope towards the infirmary cave in the rock wall. Slipping through the flap in the canvas, he found it unchanged from the day before, when he’d been discharged. Nobody was inside, except for...

“Ibis?” Chase asked.

“Hello, Chase.” Ibis smiled at him. Her mask was off, revealing her features and round, dark eyes for the first time. “It’s good to see you again. And please, my name is Nemet.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m supposed to meet with you.” That explained why she was standing near the entrance, she was waiting for him.

“Yes, yes.” Nemet nodded. “Henrik has told me to give you a basics in medicine.” She turned and headed towards the back, indicating he should follow. “Come, come. This shouldn’t take too long.”

Nemet had set three chests on top of each other, making a sort of rough chest-height table. On top of the flat surface of the chest-table were a series of bottles and bags, each one neatly labeled. “Here. These are some of our common tonics and medicines we use here. Tell me what you recognize.”

Chase considered the layout before him. There were probably about thirty in total, if he had to guess. “This is for colds, right? And fevers? And this one, too. And these dried leaves, they’re for nausea. Oh, and this will put you to sleep if you put it in water or stew. This is a salve, also for fevers. And this is a balm for sores. And this will stop infection on cuts and scrapes. And...that’s what I know.”

“Impressive,” Nemet nodded.

“Really? That’s only a fraction of the total,” Chase said doubtfully.

“Most people who join up only know redleaf, bainruish, and seedbane.” Nemet indicated each medicine as she listed them. “Fevers, cuts, and...well, I’m sure you know what seedbane is for, even if you said nothing. You are married, after all.” She laughed as Chase slowly turned red. “Ah, my apologies. The point is, you are ahead of most others.”

“Do we really need all of these?” Chase asked, quickly moving on.

“Oh, yes. You know that when people gather together that sicknesses spread easily. Many of these will help to cure a specific disease, while others are a general tonic, like redleaf.” Nemet paused, then picked up about ten of the medicines and put them on the floor. “Henrik says you are not so much caught up on magic, so we will leave these ones out of our discussion for now.”

Chase started at that. The concept of mixing medicine with magic made him...uneasy. He may not know that much about magic, but he knew it could be dangerous. “I was wondering, Nemet, what did you do before you joined the Phantoms? I know Henrik’s a traveling doctor, are you the same?”

“Not exactly.” Nemet shrugged. “I was a student of medicine back home.”

“And where was that?”

“A land called Kha’Nyphthis.” Nemet grinned a bit at Chase’s confused expression. “You would not have heard of it. It is to the south, on another continent, but not the same continent as Henrik’s Alterde. We have great schools and libraries there, the best in the world. I was learning to become a doctor, and had almost finished my schooling, but one of the final requirements was to learn the medicine of another land. I chose here, Glasúil, because you are well-known for your medicine. But then I arrived, and saw the state of things, and...ah, well.” Her expression fell for a moment.

“I’m...sorry,” Chase said awkwardly. “Do you...ever think about going back?”

Nemet nodded briefly. “Of course. I have family, friends. But I cannot just abandon things. It’s not in my nature to leave things unsettled.” She took a deep breath, and moved on. “But as for your basics in medicine, let me start by getting you familiar with the ones you didn’t know.”

It was a while later before Chase left the infirmary, his head feeling stuffed with all the new information Nemet had drilled into him. Already, some of it was starting to slip away. And he immediately knew that he could never be a doctor. If these were the basics, he couldn’t even begin to think about what would be required to complete the training to become one.

But he didn’t have time to let all that new knowledge sink in. Judging by the sun’s position, it was getting close to noon, and to lunch. He still had to meet up with someone else before it was time to eat. So he hurried onward, running along the curve of the dragon’s bones, following them as they got smaller and smaller, until they eventually merged into the packed ground. Chase slowed to a stop and looked around, confused. This was the end of the tail, wasn’t it? So...where was—

“Hey you’re the new one, right?”

Chase yelped and spun around. A man was sitting between the spine bones of the dragon, almost unnoticeable in the shadow between them. “Yeah, that’s me,” he said slowly. “Are you, uh...Tripp?”

The man nodded, hopped to his feet, and walked over to Chase. Standing up, he was short, even shorter than Jackie. He wore a dark brown cloak that reached his knees, and of course, a mask. This one was shaped like a ram’s head, complete with curved horns, and the black symbol on the forehead was actually four different symbols arranged in a diamond formation. After a moment of looking at them, Chase realized they were the suits often used on playing cards. How...odd. The man reached up and took off the mask, ruffling his golden brown hair and revealing dark eyes. “Tripp, son of Seamus,” he said shortly. “And you are...?”

“Chase. Son of Brody,” Chase said automatically. “Henrik told you I was—”

“You’re not up-and-up on magic and need a course, yea,” Tripp interrupted, swinging his mask around his finger. Chase took a step back despite already being far away. If that went flying, those plaster horns would do some damage. “And he asked me to do it ‘cause I’m our second best guy.”

“You’re the—?”

“What do you know already, Brodyson?” Tripp continued. “Ever met a magic-wielder?”

“There were a handful in town—”

“Sorcerer, wizard, enchanter, oracle, witch?”

“I...what?” Chase blinked. “I...think they were all sorcerers.”

“How many?”

“Only a handful, about six or seven?”

“For a village of four hundred or so people?” Tripp laughed. “Everyone must’ve been magically impotent.”

“Could you slow down?!” Chase snapped. “I thought you were supposed to teach me about magic, not make fun of me for not knowing anything!”

Tripp paused. Then grinned. “It’s just banter, Brodyson. I didn’t mean offense. But hey, you called me out. Good on you for that. My apologies.” His grin faded. “But I’m not jokin’ about that. There should’ve been at least four times that number of magic-wielders in a town that size. What happened? Were the seekers bein’ lazy for the past few years?”

“...Seekers?” Chase repeated, puzzled.

Tripp looked up at the sky. “Oh, elders. They haven’t been showin’ up at all, have they? If you don’t even know about them—alright, we’ll start from the beginning, then.” He sat down on the ground, folding his legs under him. Slowly, Chase sat down across from him. “You know of the five branches, right? I’m pretty sure everyone in the world’s at least heard their names.”

“Yes,” Chase said, nodding. Wizards, sorcerers, enchanters, oracles, and witches. He mostly heard about them in stories, and was especially fuzzy on the details about those last three.

“A common mistake people make is thinkin’ these are all different things.” Tripp started drawing in the dirt with his finger. “When really, all magic is the same. It’s like a tree—just because each branch might look different, doesn’t mean they don’t all come from the same trunk.” And, in keeping with that metaphor, he drew a rough outline of a tree with five different branches. “All magics can work with each other, and there’s a lot of similarities in between them. For example, do you know the difference between wizardry and sorcery? They’re the two most well-known of the branches.”

“Um...if I’m being honest, I’d always been under the impression that wizardry was more powerful,” Chase said tentatively.

Tripp snorted in disbelief. “Some wizards would like to think that. But no. More varied, yes. But not more powerful. Here, it’ll be easier if I go over them all one by one.” He started to draw symbols by each of the branches, starting with a crude stick figure. “Sorcery is the most common magic besides witchcraft. It crops up in people at random. If you got twenty-five people in a room together, one would probably be a sorcerer, even if they didn’t know it. Its source is inside the person themself. And what it does is manipulate the world. Like...this.”

He pressed a flat hand against the ground next to him. After a moment, the dirt started to move. Then suddenly, pillars of rock shot through the dirt, rising from underneath the surface. Chase gaped as the solid stone started to twist, winding around each other to form a braid of rock. Then Tripp removed his hand, and the rock froze, as if it had never been moving in the first place. For a moment, Chase was stunned, then he managed to ask, “S-so you’re a sorcerer, then?”

“Exactly,” Tripp grinned. “Why d’you look so surprised? You said you knew sorcerers before.”

“Well...yes, but I hadn’t...seen their magic too much,” Chase admitted. He remembered one time when Gwen, the weaver’s daughter, had pulled water out of the well. It just streamed out of the depths and sailed right into her bucket. But occasions like that were few and far between.

“Hmm.” Tripp scrunched his face up, thinking. “Well, besides that. Each branch of magic has its strengths and weaknesses. Sorcery’s strength is that it comes from within. As long as a sorcerer doesn’t drain too much energy, they can use their magic forever. And its weakness is that you need a material to manipulate. Like just now, I reached down and pulled rock up from underground. But there’s a limit to the range where your magic can affect things.”

Chase nodded. “What about wizardry, then?”

Tripp sketched a rough outline of a necklace next to another branch of the tree. “Its strength is its variety. Wizards aren’t limited by what things are present, they can conjure out of thin air. But its weakness is in this: the ‘focus.’” He tapped the necklace drawing. “Unlike sorcery, wizardry doesn’t come from within. Wizards are channelin’ it from outside, from the layer of magic that coats the world. But to do so, they need a specially-made thing called a focus. It’s usually a necklace, ‘cause that’s handy, but it can be any shape, as long as it’s made the right way. These dragon bones, for example. They’d be real good to make focuses with.” He knocked on the nearest bone. “About one in fifty people are able to channel wizardry.”

“And now we reach the end of my knowledge,” Chase mutters. “What’s the next most common?”

Tripp paused. “Enchantment.” The image he drew in the dirt now was a misshapen lump. “Damn. That’s supposed to be a brain.”

“Ah. Right. Because enchantment is the magic of the mind, isn’t it?” Chase recalled, casting his memories back to the stories he’d heard that included enchanters.

“Hmm. Yea.” Tripp pursed his lips. “How do I explain them...Well, strengths. They’re the only magic that can work with your mind. Illusions, talking in your head, things like that. But as for their weaknesses, enchanters can’t change the world for real.”

“Is it true that enchanters can control your actions?” Chase asked. “There’s a story, the Dark Damoen—”

“The crazy old man who made Erinthold worship him as a god? That’s a famous one.” Tripp nodded. “Well, it’s true. Some could change your thoughts and make you do things you wouldn’t. But that takes a lot of power, and besides, most enchanters are decent people, like all the rest of us. It’s just that we remember the bad ones because they shock us. And only about one in a hundred people are enchanters, anyway. Don’t worry about it. There are a few Masked Phantoms who are enchanters.”

Chase nodded slowly. The thought of the old story sent shivers down his back, but he should probably trust the magic-wielder. He clearly knew more “What about...the oracles?”

Tripp drew a symbol of an eye in the dirt. “Those are the rarest one. You only get an oracle one in a thousand, if you’re lucky, and they’re not usually that powerful. You’ve probably heard that they issue prophecies of what’s to come, or that they might even be able to manipulate time itself. Well that’s all bullshit.”

“Wh—” Chase was so surprised at the frankness that he choked on his own gasp. After a few moments of coughing, he continued in a hoarse voice. “What do you mean?”

“Oracles can’t manipulate time, that’s the most insane rumor goin’ round about magic there ever was,” Tripp stated. “They get visions of what’s most likely to happen. It’s not for sure, and really, most oracles are wrong. But huge strength there, knowing the most likely future. And it comes with a big weakness. A couple, actually. One, they have to speak their visions out loud while it’s happenin’. It’s a magic...what’s the word?” He snapped his fingers for a bit. “Compulsion. That’s it. They’re literally forced to do it, can’t stop that. And two, the visions are all they can do. They have no other magic. And because of that, some say that oracles are cursed, not gifted.”

Chase thought about that. If he had the choice, would he take knowing the future for being forced to share it? Maybe. Maybe if he knew what could happen next, he could stop terrible things. Like...his heart panged, and he shied away from the thought. No, that didn’t sound too bad. People would also know what the future held, what of it? He’d take that risk.

“And the last magic,” Tripp said, snapping Chase out of his thoughts. “Witchcraft. It’s actually the most common.”

“Really?” Chase said doubtfully.

“I bet you’re goin’ by the stories, where witches are old people that stay in shacks and give out potions,” Tripp said, drawing a bottle next to the final branch. “But really, the magic of witchcraft isn’t in people, like all the others. It’s in the land. It’s part of the world’s magic. Plants with strange properties, the parts of magical animals...these can be mixed together to create amazing effects. And anyone could learn how to do it. In fact, most of us here have.”

Chase suddenly remembered earlier, how Nemet had put away some of the medicines during their meeting. It was because he didn’t know much about magic...“Wait, you mean anyone could make potions? Become a witch?”

“Well, not anyone,” Tripp muttered. “If you have magic of your own, you can’t learn witchcraft. The knowledge just slips away, and if we try anyway, nothing works, even if it should. You can’t use more than one magic. It’d be like tryin’ to hold onto every single branch of a tree.”

“If the tree was small, though?” Chase joked.

“It’s not. The magic tree is big, and the branches are the type where you need to hold on with both hands,” Tripp said firmly.

“Oh. I...see.” Chase cleared his throat. Clearly, using more than one magic wasn’t something to make light of. It was too impossible. “And...what about those seekers you mentioned earlier?”

Tripp was eager to move on. “Seekers are wizards that can sense the presence of magic. What’s supposed to happen is that these seekers are supposed to stop by every town twice every year. In practice, that’s faded away. Most towns only see them once a year, and the farther away you get from Suilthair, the less often you’ll see them. My town where I grew up, they came by every three years. But if you don’t know what they are, then...have you ever seen them?”

At that, Chase had a vague memory of a group of strangers visiting Hilltown when he was a child. They were dressed finely, and the image of an elaborate brooch one of them was wearing flashed in his mind. The next day, Hanson, an old friend of his, announced to all the kids that he was going away for ‘special school.’ “Not in years. Long enough for me to forget what they are.”

Tripp huffed. “I bet it’s not worth the effort to come all the way up here. Bunch of nambies.” He rolled his eyes. “Seekers are employed by the royal family. They find young magic-wielders and offer to give them schoolin’, to learn how to use their magic. Schoolin’ that’s funded by the crowns. It’s not required—I never went—but it’s encouraged. Otherwise you might end up having magic shootin’ out of your—”

“Is that why most wizards side with the King?” Chase asked, remembering what Henrik said about the source of the village fire.

“Part of it. But wizards especially have a reason to keep on the King’s good side.” Tripp paused. “Those focuses I told you ‘bout, that wizards need to use their magic? The crowns fund the makin’ of those, too. And the sellin’. And everything about them.”

“Oh.” Chase’s eyes widened with realization. “So...if a wizard decided to oppose the King, then there’s a chance that...they wouldn’t have access to a focus anymore? And...their magic?”

Tripp nodded. “That’s why most of us magic-wielders in the Phantoms are sorcerers and a few enchanters.”

“No oracles?”

“Oh, elders, no. You heard how hard they are to find. Wish we had some, though. That’d be helpful.” Tripp stretched his arms, then stood up. “Anyway, that’s all I have to say. You got it all?”

“I think so, yes,” Chase said slowly. He looked up to the sky, mentally reviewing everything he’d heard. Sorcery, wizardry, enchantment, oraclulary, and witchcraft. All very different, all with things they could do and limitations that slowed them down. That made sense. He nodded to himself...and then noticed the position of the sun. “Shit!” Chase shot to his feet. “It’s noon! I have—after lunch, I—”

“More meetings, huh?” Tripp raised an eyebrow, then pulled his ram mask back on. “Let me guess...Lukas and Holly? Better hurry, Brodyson. Not good to be late for those two.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chase swung by the cooking fires to grab some food, then hurried over to the combat fields, along the dragon’s wings. Originally, he wondered if the wing bones would get it the way, but apparently the dragon had died with its wings spread out as far as they could be, leaving ample room in between the bones. The packed dirt was lined with targets, crude dummies made of sacks of hay tied to sticks, and racks of wooden training weapons. Occasionally there were random chests or tents set up to create obstacles to fight around. As he ran out onto the fields, he passed many people, some sparring in groups, others practicing on their own. None of them paid him any mind.

Now that he was here, he wasn’t sure where to go. The fields took up all of the space cleared by the wings, which was, as it turned out, quite a lot. Maybe he should have asked Henrik for descriptions of the people he’d be meeting with. Feeling his nerves eating away at his stomach, he turned to the nearest person, and asked, quietly, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Lukas and Holly?”

The person turned around, looked down at him, and smiled. “Oh, it’s you! You’re the new one!”

“Um...yes,” Chase said slowly. It was just now occurring to him how...big this person was—this woman was, actually, judging by her voice. She towered over him, and her sleeveless tunic showed off the muscles of her tattooed arms. Strange to be wearing no sleeves in the chill mountain air, but she probably wasn’t bothered.

“I’m Holly.” Her smile widened. “Daughter of Rose.”

“Oh!” Chase blinked. That name didn’t fit her at all. But alright, he wasn’t one to say anything. “Chase, son of Brody.”

“Lovely to meet you.” Holly grabbed his hand and vigorously shook it. She wasn’t wearing her mask, but it hung around her neck. A bear. And the symbol on its forehead was the same as the one on Jackie’s wolf mask: a circle with two dots inside.  “Me and Lukas, we’re in charge of combat up in Wyvernlair. Speaking of which...” She turned around. “Luke! He’s here!”

Chase leaned around Holly to look at who she was addressing...and suddenly felt cold, despite his jacket. Now he remembered where he heard that name before. While he’d been sick with the shivering in the infirmary, he’d overheard a conversation between Jackie and a man in a fox mask. That man had wanted to throw him out of camp, but Jackie had refused...and now, Chase was staring at that very same man.

“I can see that,” Lukas said shortly. He was facing a series of targets, and didn’t turn to look at Holly and Chase. Instead he merely took another arrow from a quiver on his back, nocked it on his bow, and shot. The arrow flew straight into the center of the farthest target, which was barely the size of a hand spread wide.

“No you can’t, you didn’t even look!” Holly scowled, and turned back around. “Sorry about him, Chase. He’s been snippy.”

“Well I wouldn’t be snippy if I hadn’t been standing out here for an hour, waiting for someone who didn’t bother to show up on time,” Lukas snapped.

“I’m not an hour late,” Chase protested weakly. Even behind the fox mask, Lukas’s expression was twisted with frustration and annoyance.

“It’s a matter of principle,” Lukas said, finally turning to face Chase. When he did, Chase noticed the symbol on his mask for the first time: an X, with a dot to either side.

“Let’s just get into it,” Holly said, folding her arms. “Now, Chase. You’re a hunter, yes? So you have some experience with shortbows.”

“I can shoot, yes,” Chase agreed. “But I’ve never heard the term ‘shortbow’ before.” Lukas rolled his eyes, a motion that was partially hidden by the mask but still visible enough for Chase to catch.

“It means a smaller bow, in comparison to Lukas’s massive beast of a longbow over there.” Holly gestured towards Lukas’s bow; it was almost as tall as him. “Shortbows are better for mobility and closer range, while longbows are more suited for staying stationary and shooting long distances.”

“Ah.” Chase nodded. That made sense; bigger bows were more powerful, but also harder to draw back and move around. Amabel once tried to shoot Chase’s own bow when she was seven, and couldn’t pull the string even a little.

“I’m assuming you’re a fairly good shot,” Holly said, rubbing her chin. “So you’ll probably need to work with me more. I’m in charge of close-range combat, while Lukas handles the long range, with bows. So if we’re to—”

“Hold on a moment, Holly,” Lukas interrupted. “I want to see what he can do.”

Holly shot Lukas a dirty look. “There’s no need—”

“Of course there is. We should know what our starting point is.” Lukas turned and walked towards a nearby weapons rack, picking out a smaller shortbow and a quiver of matching arrows. He headed back to the others and thrust the tools at Chase. “Show me how well you hunt.”

“...alright. I will.” Chase took the bow and quiver slowly. He didn’t like being tested, especially not when the test was proposed by a man who clearly thought he was some sort of spy for the King and might be looking for an excuse to kick him out. Should he pretend to be worse than he actually was? No, that would just be complicated. He’d shoot normally.

He stepped up to the place Lukas had been standing, facing the targets, and strapped the quiver onto his back. For a moment, he examined the bow. Solidly built. Looked newer than the one he used back home. And had these odd curves...was this a recurve model? He’d heard of them, but never used one before.

“Soon, please!” Lukas called.

Holly promptly hit him on the back of the head. “Take your time, Chase! Don’t worry!”

Chase nodded. His mouth was suddenly very dry. But he swallowed his nerves, adjusted his stance, and nocked an arrow. He hit it against the back of his head in the process of taking it out of the quiver—not being used to wearing it on his back—and glanced back at the two watching to gauge their reactions. Holly looked supportive, but Lukas was unreadable. He looked away again.

There were ten arrows in the quiver and ten targets set up in front of him. He must need to hit all of them. So he drew back, aimed, and let loose the arrow.

Ten arrows.

Five of them hit the closest targets. Two of those hit their target’s center.

One hit the edge of one of the farther targets.

The remaining four missed.

Feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned back to Holly and Lukas.

“Wow. That was the most utterly average thing I’ve ever seen,” Lukas said bluntly.

“You hit more than I can!” Holly said positively, giving him a short round of applause. “That’s great!”

Chase nodded silently. “I...I’m not used to this bow.”

Lukas hummed. He went to collect the arrows, giving Chase a side-eyed look as he walked past. It seemed as though his suspicions hadn’t been assuaged. If anything, he looked even more wary.

Holly walked up to Chase and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Chase promptly lost his balance from the force of the contact, and Holly helped him right himself. “Sorry about that,” she said. “And sorry about Lukas. He’s just...he has a hard time trusting people. I’m sure you’ll win him over.”

“It’s fine,” Chase said distantly. “I mean, not everyone’s going to immediately welcome someone new into a group like this. You need to keep secret. There are risks.” Still, Lukas’s distrust, combined with his mediocre shooting skills, left him feeling a bit down. Like a cloud passing over the sun, everything just seemed...disappointing.

Lukas returned, arrows in hand. “Do it again,” he said.

“Elders and Sisters, Luke, we don’t have all day,” Holly protested. 

“He needs to practice,” Lukas said, stone-faced.

“He needs to start with me! You can’t handle all your problems from a distance, especially in our situation. What’s he to do if a King’s man jumps him from behind and all he has are arrows?”

“It’s fine,” Chase repeated. He rubbed his arm; they hadn’t given him an arm guard, and despite the jacket fabric, his skin still stung from the bow string. “We have until dinner.”

Holly gave him a look, but sighed and stepped back. “One hour of shooting, then it’s my turn.”

Lukas nodded. “Deal.”

Chase sighed a bit, and took the arrows from Lukas. It was turning out to be a long day.

[frozenartscapes]

A continuation of part one. Edelgard begins to experience modern Fodlan, and has many questions.

-- -- --

So this...was a “car”?

Edelgard stared at the metal contraption before her, head tilted slightly to one side. “I don’t...understand,” she said after a moment, “Is it like a carriage?”

“Sort of,” Byleth replied, “Only it drives itself.”

Another head tilt, this time in the other direction. “How does it do that?”

“Uh... To be honest, explaining it simply would be a bit of a challenge. I’m not much of a mechanic,” Byleth said sheepishly.

“A...mechanic?”

“You know what? Why don’t we get going and I’ll start answering while we drive.”

Edelgard awkwardly settled into the passenger seat of Byleth’s car, her antiquated armour and battledress making things a little difficult. It took a few more minutes for Byleth to teach her about a seatbelt and why it was necessary.

“We never had such precautions when we rode horses. Or wyverns.”

“Yeah, but even wyverns don’t fly as fast as cars.”

Eventually they were off, and the ride was painfully silent. Though it wasn’t because of any kind of animosity. Edelgard was too busy staring out the windows, quietly gasping in amazement as they drove through the city toward Byleth’s downtown apartment.

“If we hadn’t met in the palace, I would never believe you if you told me this was Enbarr,” Edelgard said eventually, as they drove down the main boulevard that was lined with all kinds of high-end shops and restaurants. It was the end of the week, and the nightlife was only just ramping up. People from all backgrounds were flocking to various entertainment venues for a fun night out. It was a far cry from the Enbarr the Emperor had known.

“I guess it has changed quite a lot,” Byleth admitted as they pulled up to an intersection.

Edelgard frowned in confusion. “Why are we stopping?”

“Because the light’s red.”

Edelgard glanced up at the light in question. “So it is, but... It doesn’t appear that anyone else is moving through the intersection. Can we not go?”

“No. Because the light’s red.”

“I fail to see why a simple light would have such power.”

Byleth let out a tired sigh. “It’s just...how traffic works now. Trust me: if you saw this light during rush hour, you’d appreciate the control way more.”

“...Rush hour?”

The light mercifully turned green, and Byleth allowed the subject to drop. Edelgard was once again preoccupied with taking in the sights of the city, marvelling especially at the tall condo and office towers. That’s when Byleth remembered the radio.

“Hey, I have something to show you,” she said, reaching for the power button on the dashboard. The radio flicked to life, softly playing a talk show station Byleth had been listening to that morning.

Edelgard’s eyes lit up like a child seeing snow for the first time. “What is this?” she breathed, leaning in to better inspect the radio.

Byleth chuckled. “Try it out. This dial here tunes it, so you can switch between stations. And this one is for the volume. Careful with that one: it can get pretty loud in here. All the numbered buttons are stations I’ve saved.”

Edelgard tentatively turned the tuning dial, gasping in pleasant surprise when the radio switched to playing some classical music. Byleth couldn’t help but grin as she watched the fearsome Emperor messing about with a car radio, fully and un-ironically engrossed in the technology.

She spent the rest of the trip like that, and the way she struggled to hide her disappointment when the radio turned off with the car brought another grin to Byleth’s face. “Just wait until you discover the TV,” Byleth teased as she led the Emperor toward the elevator.

“I can tell you are clearly enjoying yourself,” Edelgard commented coolly, “I’m glad my curiosity is somewhat entertaining.”

“Sorry,” Byleth said gently, “I guess it’s just...strange. Seeing you like this.”

The elevator doors opened with a ding, catching her attention once more. “Doors that open on their own?” she wondered, “What sort of magic is at play here?”

“No magic, just...technology,” Byleth explained. She headed into the elevator, and Edelgard hesitantly followed. She pressed the button for her floor, and the doors closed. The elevator lurched - it always did, they really needed to fix that - and Edelgard latched onto her arm almost instinctively. A blush spread across the Emperor’s face, and she quickly stepped away in embarrassment.

“S...so...” she stammered, tucking one strand of hair behind her ear as she desperately avoided eye contact, “Why did we purposely trap ourselves in this tiny room? And why does it feel like it’s moving?”

“It’s an elevator. It’s taking us up to the floor my apartment’s on,” Byleth told her, “And before you ask: no, there’s no magic involved here, either. This one’s a giant metal cable attached to this box, and it’s pulled and lowered by a giant mechanism on the top of the building.”

“...And...how high up is this floor we’re going to?”

“It’s the fourteenth.”

“...I don’t know how high that actually is but you’re telling me the thing keeping this box from crashing to the ground below is one measly cable?”

“Well, technically the cable’s not measly. And there’s a failsafe installed in every elevator, making it impossible for them to fall, even if the cable breaks.”

Edelgard was staring at her like she had grown a second head.

“Ok, elevators freaked me out at first, too. But trust me: this totally beats taking the stairs.”

The elevator doors opened, and Byleth led the way to her apartment. Upon opening the door, they were met with a cozy space. A small hallway led down to the living room, the kitchen was just off to the left, a closet to the right. There were a few dishes left piled in the sink, some books left scattered around, clothes draped over the back of the couch.

“Heh, sorry,” Byleth said sheepishly, “I wasn’t expecting company.”

Edelgard glanced around at the strange new setting. Her eyes settled on the large windows in the living room, her feet taking her over without even realizing it. Byleth followed, watching closely. The Emperor gazed over her former home, seemingly sprawling in every direction as far as the eye could see. The sun had just set, with a few traces of twilight still in the inky sky. But the city had become alive in the darkness, millions of lights from windows and streets forming a completely new metropolis.

“The view’s even better from out here,” Byleth offered, sliding the balcony door open and gesturing out.

Edelgard seemed hesitant, but she wordlessly followed and stepped out onto the balcony, moving to the railing as she once more took in the sights with an unreadable expression. Eventually though, her eyes trained downward, and she realized just how tall fourteen floors really was. “Oh Goddess, we’re high,” she gasped backing as far from the railing as she could get.

Byleth chuckled. “Believe it or not, there’s still another ten floors to this building, too,” she said lightly.

“How were they able to construct a building so tall?” Edelgard demanded, “I don’t think even the tallest spire at Garreg Mach could reach this height.”

“No, it was...actually pretty short by today’s standards,” Byleth admitted, “They figured out how to build tall and skinny buildings by utilizing steel and concrete.” She paused. “Ok, I realize that probably doesn’t explain much. Just...just trust me: tall buildings like this are the norm now.”

“O...ok,” Edelgard stammered. Her eyes darted out to the view for a moment. “It...it is a nice view, but I think I’d like to go back inside now.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Byleth agreed, “Come on. I’ll show you the guest room.”

Byleth gave Edelgard a quick tour of the apartment, concluding in the second bedroom. Edelgard had been strangely quiet for the whole tour, and now stood awkwardly near the bed, glancing around the room with mild uncertainty. Byleth decided to give her a little space, so she headed out to the linen closet.

When she returned, Edelgard had taken a seat on the bed, and was staring down at her hands.

“Ok, so here are some towels. If you like, I can show you how to get a shower going. And I’ll grab some of my old clothes, too. If you’d like to change out of that dress,” Byleth stated, hoping her hospitality would help the Emperor adjust, “And are you hungry? I don’t really have a whole lot of food right now, but I can order something. Maybe some Almyran? Or Duscurian? Oh! I know a place that does really good Brigid-spiced chicken.”

Edelgard sighed, unable to meet Byleth’s eyes. “There are...many things I don’t understand,” she admitted, “I think...it’s all starting to hit me. But the strangest thing isn’t that I’ve been transported into the future.” She gulped nervously, and finally looked up. “It’s that you’ve been so kind to me.”

Something clamped around Byleth’s heart and refused to let go. She carefully headed over and took a seat on the bed next to the Emperor. “I’m...I’m sorry,” she said softly, “I suppose the change must feel quite sudden for you. But...I’ve had many years to think about what I did... How I treated you...”

“We were on opposing sides of a war. It seems like only a few hours ago I was waiting for your army to break down my door and for us to engage in our final battle,” Edelgard uttered, “It was, for me. I was prepared to die by your blade... And you were prepared to do it.”

Byleth grimaced. “I...did do it,” she confessed, running a hand through her hair to push her bangs out of her face, “I... Goddess, Edelgard, I... I split your skull open.”

“I suppose I should thank you for being quick about it,” Edelgard commented grimly, “I wonder if that’s why it seems I suddenly appeared here, as if nothing had happened.”

“You came here the moment you died...” Byleth muttered, “But...why?”

Edelgard frowned, clearly thinking about it. “I’m...not sure,” she eventually admitted, “This certainly wasn’t any trick of mine. By the time we fought, I just wanted to... Never mind.” She drew a deep breath, and Byleth could practically see her shoving those negative thoughts and emotions away. She cast Byleth a small smile, and said, “I’m just...glad it was you who found me, Professor.”

“I... Me too.” Byleth returned the smile with one of her own. She then got up, offering a hand to the Emperor. “Well, you probably want to get cleaned up. I’ll show you how to work the shower.”

“...Is there some sort of device that makes it rain indoors?”

“Well...sort of.”

-- -- --

“Ok, so you’ve got hot and cold water,” Byleth said, pointing to two nobs imbedded into the tiled wall, “You pull this little lever all the way up to turn on the shower. You kind of have to give it a good tug - it sticks sometimes.” She then motioned to the various bottles on the wall. “You can also use the shampoo and conditioner - make sure you use both, and in that order. I don’t know why, to be honest, that’s just how they make them. And soap is there.”

Edelgard followed along intently, still mesmerized by the strange room Byleth had led her to. The tub and sink were simple white, with silver fixtures that magically distributed water whenever it was desired. Byleth insisted it wasn’t magic, but... Come on. Something had to be magic in this world, right? There was also this strange, porcelain seat that Byleth had to awkwardly explain, too.

Eventually, Byleth left her alone for some privacy. And she was met with her first real challenge of this new world: taking a shower.

She hadn’t realized just how badly she had lost that fight until she started removing her mangled dress and armour. Her hair was practically tied to her crown, and it took a good twenty minutes just to be free of the heavy golden contraption. Removing the rest of her armour was easier, and it wasn’t long before she had stripped down to just her underclothes. She decided to wait until she got the shower working before discarding them, just in case she needed to call Byleth.

She turned one of the nobs on the wall, and water started to flow out of the large spout into the tub. She then tugged on the lever, and the water stopped. There was a beat, and then it started to flow out of another spout mounted higher on the wall, pouring out in multiple little streams as if it were a heavy downpour.

“Huh. So it does make it rain indoors,” she mused.

She then removed the rest of her clothing, and tentatively stepped into the shower.

COLD

She yelped in immediate surprise, and almost slipped on the smooth surface of the tub, only just managing to catch herself on the metal bar with a curtain suspended over the top. Probably for just such a purpose. She scooted away from the frigid water as much as she could.

What did Byleth say again? The other nob must be for the hot water. She bit her lip and lunged into the cold water, grabbing the hot water dial and cranking it as far as it would go.

There was a brief moment when the shower was perfect. Then...

HOT

She yelped again, once more fleeing the water before her skin began to burn.

Why in Sothis’ name would Byleth have such a torture device in her home? And supposedly use it regularly?

“Edelgard?” Byleth called after knocking on the door, “You ok in there?”

“Y...yes, my teacher!” she called back, too proud to admit this stupid shower was besting her.

“You have to balance the temperature,” Byleth shouted, “Don’t turn both nobs up all the way! Try just turning them both a little at a time until the water’s warm.”

Edelgard huffed, but set about it. Rather than diving back into the boiling water, she hopped out of the tub and approached from the side. Eventually, after much trial and error, she managed to get the water to an appropriate temperature.

And only then did she start appreciating it. To think: just having constant hot or cold water on demand! No servants or fire spells necessary. She could feel the warm water and steam washing away all the sweat and grime and blood from her body and it felt so relaxing.

She supposed it was time for to wash her hair. The shampoo bottle said it was fragranced to smell like cucumber and green tea, and was supposed to make hair shiny and soft. She followed the instructions carefully, and only cursed the stuff once when some of it got in her eye. She did the same for the conditioner, and before she was even out of the shower she could tell this stuff was going to do wonders for her hair. She had never felt it so sleek and smooth before.

She had at least experienced soap before, and found herself relieved to find something she was familiar with.

Once finished she turned the water off and reached for the towels Byleth had provided. She returned to her room to find Byleth had left a small pile of folded clothes on the bed. It felt...strange, to wear her old teacher’s clothes. But she had no desire to wear her dirty battledress again, so she reached for a shirt on the top of the pile.

Byleth had just ordered that chicken from the Brigidian food place, and was anxiously pacing back and forth in her living room, ears trained for any sign of distress. Nothing too catastrophic came from the bathroom, but Byleth still guessed she’d likely have to take a mop to it once Edelgard was done.

Speaking of, the former Emperor of Fodlan entered the living room, hair still wet but brushed and free from any intricate hairstyle. Byleth couldn’t hold back the smile spreading on her lips, though, much to Edelgard’s annoyance. The smaller woman was practically swimming in Byleth’s old clothes. The legs of the sweatpants bunched up around her feet, and the blue, red, and yellow sweatshirt was at least two sizes too big, with sleeves going well past her hands and it being so long it could count as a dress.

“Ok, we’ll go out clothes shopping for you in the morning,” she stated, still unable to stop her grin.

Edelgard nodded, glancing down at her new borrowed wardrobe. “I have to admit... These are strange clothes, even if they did fit me,” she said, “What does ‘GMU’ stand for?”

“Garreg Mach University,” Byleth replied, “I, uh, thought it was fitting.”

“So it’s a university now?” Edelgard wondered.

“Yeah, I was a prof there in another life. I wanted to try teaching again,” Byleth told her casually, “It’s...different when it’s actual academic stuff and not military training.”

Edelgard chuckled at that. “I can imagine... No offence, but you were never really good at that side of teaching,” she said.

“None taken. I know I was bad at all that school stuff. But I got better.”

They fell into somewhat of an awkward silence, Edelgard taking in some of the details of Byleth’s apartment she missed earlier, and Byleth unsure of where to go from there. Eventually, she gestured to the couch. “You’re welcome to take a seat!” she suggested, “Dinner’s on the way. But I can make us a snack in the meantime, if you like.”

“That...sounds nice, my Teacher,” Edelgard said as she hesitantly made her way over to the couch. As she got herself comfortable, Byleth headed into the kitchen to throw a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

It only just started popping when she noticed Edelgard in the kitchen entrance. She glanced at the microwave, that inquisitive stare back on her face. “Is that...”

“It’s not magic, I’m afraid,” Byleth said before the thought could be finished.

Edelgard frowned. “Is anything magic in this world anymore?” she asked, a hint of worry beginning to show through.

“Not really. Well, technically, yes,” Byleth said, “A lot of the technology nowadays was inspired by the magic we knew. Some of it even still uses magic, but not to the same degree we needed it before. It makes it more accessible, especially since not everyone was skilled in magic.”

“I...see...”

The popcorn finished up, then, and Byleth fished it out of the microwave. She dumped the bag into a large bowl, then offered it to Edelgard. “Well, here you go: your first modern food,” she said with a smile.

Edelgard glanced down at the popcorn with skepticism written all over her face. She delicately selected a single puffy piece from the bowl, eyes narrowing as she closely inspected it. Eventually, she finally popped it in her mouth.

Her eyes widened almost instantly. Byleth couldn’t hold back her laughter.

“You lied,” Edelgard breathed, taking another few pieces of popcorn eagerly, “This food is proof magic is still alive and well in Fodlan!”

[skybiome]

And when the sun comes up, you’ll find a brand new god.

Chapter 1

Beginning | Previous | Next

ao3 tws! alcohol mentions, non bibilcal deities

Wilbur sat on a barstool inside a damp pub. Everything in the town was damp. Set on the very edge of a swamp, it rained every other day and Wilbur would be surprised if the locals bathed more often than once a fortnight. Still, it was a rather homey and down to earth kind of down.

A bard was playing a set in the corner, getting the drunken townsfolk riled into a joyful frenzy. Wilbur smiled and sipped at his drink. Rural people always partied better than cityfolk.

He was pulled out of his meandering thoughts as the performer yelled something that made the crowd yell even louder.

“It’s time for a new local favorite, The Ballad Of Technoblade!”

A few chords later, the lyrics started up, and Wilbur couldn’t even hear the bard over the drunken mass. They were something about the hero in question killing 3 griffons at once, and then slaying a wyvern without pause. How he never needed food and no one had even seen him sleep. They called him, “A man to rival the gods of the land/always found with a sword in his hand/ Working hard to fight through the fray/never knowing his own true way.”

Wilbur querked a smile at that first line.

The final stanza had a rhyme scheme than the rest of the song. Something this bard in particular had appended onto the song, Wilbur assumed. But the intoxicated crowd only roared louder. Something about a fight with a manticore.

Knocking on the wooden bartop, Wilbur vied for the bartender’s attention. Once she was looking firmly in his direction, he pointed towards the crowd.  “Do you know what that song was about?” He asked.

“The Ballad of Technoblade? Sure! It’s a collection of stories about a  monsterslayer. He’s gotten pretty popular in the last couple of years.” She set the glass that she had been drying down, freeing her hands to gesture as she spoke.

“There’s actually quite a few songs about him, but that’s the first one that has it name on it. I’m fairly certain that the first song I ever heard when I was about yay high was about him.” She held her hand at about waist height. The bartender looked to be in her early twenties.

Wilbur’s eyebrows raised toward his hairline. “Really? I didn’t think monster hunters had a long life expectancy.”

The bartender hummed to herself coyly. She turned around and reorganized a shelf behind her as she continued the conversation. “They do say that Technoblade never dies. He passed through here a few days ago and dealt with a manticore that was killing cattle and sheep.” She gestured around the pub without looking back. “He drank everyone in here under the table and walked out into the rain without stumbling.”

“Well, then,” Wilbur said. “I think I may just need to find this Technoblade. What’d he look like?”

“White shirt with a red cloak, black pants and boots, red sash around his waist, and he always had a crystal sword on his left hip. He left town heading south, probably towards Crosstown.”

Wilbur digested the new info for a moment. He slammed down the rest of his drink, and set the mug on the table. “Thanks for the information. Have a good night and may the gods be with you.”

He slid off the bartop stool and started through the crowd. He got a few steps before the bartender yelled one more thing at him.

“Oh! And he had pink hair!”

Had it not been for Wilbur’s perfect hearing, he’d of thought she said something else.

Once he was outside of the rowdy pub, the god took a moment to formulate a plan. The pink hair would probably be the best way to identify the elusive man. Wilbur didn’t want to get his hopes up, but it had been a good few centuries since a new god had been found.

The deity took a moment to stretch, before transforming into a finch, and heading south towards Crosstown.  He could have traveled there instantly, but the god had always loved the feeling of wind under his wings.

Crosstown was a few day’s walk from the swampy village. Unless Technoblade really didn’t sleep, then he would still be on his way to the city.

After a night of flying uncomfortably close to the ground, Wilbur had yet to spot someone in a red cloak, and the city was in sight. Technoblade have had to walk for over a day without stopping to reach Crosstown. The deity added a mark to his mental “is Technoblade is a god?” list. Landing in an alleyway, he transformed back into a person.

Legally, nothing was stopping him from transforming in public, but not everyone had the highest opinions on public displays of magic. Wilbur had more important things than deal with bigots. Mainly, locating the famous monster hunter.

The only lights in the city came from the crescent moon overhead, and the occasional houses that still had candles burning in their windows. The god had perfect vision though, so the low light wasn’t an issue.

There was a lack of obvious bustle on the street due to the late hour of the night. The city never truly slept, but anyone in their right minds probably would be. Technoblade probably bought a night in an inn. Wilbur decided that searching for him at night would be useless. He’d have to wait until morning to look for the monster hunter.

The god came to stop at the outskirts of a park near the edge of Crosstown.  A few trees were scattered around the grassy area. His attention was drawn to the only other person in eyeshot. Someone in a red cloak sat on the damp ground, leading back against a tree. A crystalline sword sat across their lap, and a few tufts of pink hair stuck out of their hood. Smiling, Wilbur stepped closer.

Technoblade was sound asleep and in desperate need of some personal care. His hair looked roughly cut, like the monster hunter had done it himself. He was caked in mud up to his knees. Tears and large blood splatters covered his clothes, but Technoblade seemed uninjured.

The only belongings that Wilbur could see besides the sword in his lap were a scabbard, presumably for the sword, a smaller burlap sack, and a blood soaked cloth bag tied to his belt.

A piece of his pink bangs were moving along with the man’s even, slow breaths. Reaching down, Wilbur nudged the monster hunter’s shoulder. The next thing he knew, the deity was pinned to the ground. Technoblade had a knee pressed between his ribs and a sword pressed to his neck.

The hunter’s eyes were looking through Wilbur. A second later, Technoblade blinked, and the glaze left the hunter’s vision. He swore softly, and muttered an apology, tossing his sword away.

The knee was removed from Wilbur’s ribs, and the man climbed off of the god. The deity rolled onto his side, feigning discomfort and groaning softly.

Technoblade got to his feet, still looking down at the person he’d just attacked. After a moment, Wilbur uncurled from his ball on the ground. The two made eye contact, and the monster hunter spoke first.

“What do you want?” His tone was somewhere between aggressive and wary. Defensive, is how Wilbur would describe it.

Wilbur took a moment to center himself before speaking. “I’ve heard stories about you, Mr. Technoblade. And I want to see if they’re really true.”

A pause.

“If you’re going to try and kill me, you won’t.” The monster hunter was taking this encounter a lot more seriously than the god.

“It’s nothing like that, I promise.” Wilbur waved his hands in front of him appeasingly. The man seemed very anxious and getting stabbed was not on the god’s to-do-list for the day. “Just a trial or two.”

Technoblade still stood in a defensive stance, with his center of mass lower to the ground. Wilbur didn’t know the first thing about fighting, but the monster hunter seemed more ready to react from an attack by Wilbur, than make the first move.

His hands were away from the sheath at his hip, and instead raised like he was ready to grapple an attacker.

The man glanced around before speaking. “Can it wait ‘til morning? I still have a bounty I need to turn in and the sheriff’s office doesn’t open until daylight.” He gestured towards the bloody bag hanging from his hip.

“Alright.” Wilbur nodded.  “I’ll find you when you’re done.”

When Technoblade blinked, Wilbur vanished from where he had been sitting on the ground. The man jumped backwards in surprise, hand instinctively gripping his sword handle. Hackles raised, Technoblade kept a hand on his sword, and did a patrol of the grassy park.

Wilbur laughed internally at the man’s paranoia. He was sitting in the tree as a robin. Instantaneous teleportation made it fun to mess with people. Being a god made it fun to mess with people.

Technoblade did one more sweep on the area before settling back down against the tree with his sword drawn and settled across his lap. It didn’t look like the monster hunter was going to fall back asleep. The god took off after watching him for a few minutes. A pub a few streets down was calling his name. It would need a substitute bard if the crowd wanted to party until the sun dawned.

The god of music walked back out of the alcohol soaked building at day break. The drunken party was still roaring behind him. With the god’s blessing, the festivities would continue until noon.

Crosstown was alive with business now. The namesake intersection of the north-south and east-west trade road ran through the center of town and the deity had to transform into a sparrow to avoid the caravans and reckless horse riders. In the crowded streets, no one would notice a quiet act of magic. And if they did there were too many people for them to know who had done it.

When he returned to the park, Technoblade had disappeared from beneath his tree. A few children were playing knights with fallen sticks. Wilbur asked, and they pointed him to the sheriff’s office. It was a fair distance away from the main intersections.

Wilbur transformed into a lark, and flew away to the sounds of the children shouting in amazement. He caught up with the monster hunter as the cloak wearing man turned the last corner on the way to the law office. Technoblade jumped when the bird landed on his shoulder and spun around, trying to knock his apparently attacker off his shoulder. Once he realized it was just a bird, the adrenaline seemed to drain out of him. The fighter took a moment to get his heart rate back under control, then started to shoo the animal away.

The deity in disguise simply fluttered to the man’s other shoulder, undeterred. After the lark hopped between his shoulders a few more times, the monster hunter seemed to accept that the bird wasn’t going anywhere and stopped trying to spook it away. He then continued to walk towards his destination.

Technoblade pushed the door to the sheriff’s office and made a beeline for a bulletin board. From his shoulder, Wilbur could read that the papers plastering the cork surface were bounties or wanted posters, whether for people or monsters. The cloaked man pulled down his hood, and tore one of the papers off the wall. He set it on the front desk of the office.

A bell attached to the door had rung when they’d first walked in. A man in a sheriff’s uniform emerged from the back as the monster hunter freed the bloody bag from his belt and set it on the table beside the bounty poster.

The lawman looked perturbed by the sack, dried blood flaking onto his otherwise clean desk. Technoblade untied the string on the bag, showing the contents to the lawman.

From the perch on the man’s shoulder, Wilbur could see the bloody items inside. A scorpion stinger the size of a human head sat nestled between several claws and two bloody canines. Trophies that Technoblade must have collected from his kill to prove his victory.

“Manticore hiding in the swamp to the south by Willowhill that was killing livestock.” He pushed the bounty paper towards the man on the other side of the desk.

The sheriff froze under Technoblade’s gaze. After a moment, he recollected himself and disappeared into the back. He returned with another piece of paper that had several sentences and phrases printed on it. Technoblade stood patiently as the lawman copied several things from the poster onto the new piece of paper.

The monster hunter was apparently familiar with this process. When the sheriff stopped writing and began looking up, the man simply stated his name as, “Technoblade,” before the officer even asked him anything. The lawman wrote on a line at the bottom of the paper, beside the words, “Bounty collected by”. The second piece of paper looked to be an official record that the bounty had been completed.

Once he was done writing, the man rolled up both the new paper and the bounty poster, setting them somewhere below the desk. Wilbur watched the man go into the back room one final time, and return with a sizable big that jingled as he walked. Technoblade took the reward from the officer. He left without another world, almost throwing the lark off his shoulder with how fast he turned around.

Outside, the monster hunter fastened the sack full of coins to his belt and pulled the hood back over his head. The muddy red cloak didn’t stick out much among the colorful city population, but the pink hair was obscenely eye catching.

Technoblade turned to the lark on his shoulder. With resignation in his eyes, he asked, “You’re not going to leave, are you.”

Wilbur chirped once and fluttered to sit on top of the man’s red hood. Technoblade let out an extended sigh, apparently accepting his fate as a taxi for the songbird.

The deity rode for several minutes. Before long, he realized that the monster hunter was returning to the same park as the night before. The man settled back down against the trunk of the same tree after he looked around the grassy area, only seeing the playing children.

The lark hopped off Technoblade’s shoulder. Wilbur sat in the grass, watching the man. When he’d had his hood down in the sheriff’s office, Wilbur was surprised to see that his hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. Let down, the pink hair would reach a little past his shoulders.

The monster hunter set both the reward bag, and retrieved the empty, smaller bag from where it was tied to his belt. He moved several fistfuls of the precious coins from the larger bag into the smaller one. Once he was done, Technoblade looped the smaller bag back onto his belt and picked up the larger one.

Getting to his feet, the hunter whistled, grabbing the kids’ attention. He tossed the bag full of money on the ground. He’d left the draw string untied and coins spilled out across the grass. Technoblade turned on his heel, walking away as the children descended on the money like starving vultures. The god fluttered back onto the man’s shoulder.

He stayed there until they were outside of the city. The monster hunter had avoided the main trade routes, instead opting to walk through the alleyways until he reached the forest north-west of Crosstown. Once they were firmly out of eyesight, Wilbur hopped off of Technoblade’s shoulder. The lark hovered in front of the man, before retaking his more human form.

Technoblade blinked slowly, and then cocked his head to the side. “So that was you.”

“What gave it away?” Wilbur felt a grin slip onto his face.

“Well-” the hunter kept his tired gaze locked on the deity, “-if you were a mage sent by the royal guard, you would have already tried to kill me. And most other magicians avoid me like a plague.”

“Why’s that?” The god cocked his head to the side

“Being cursed sucks.”

“Hmmm,” Wilbur rocked from side to side for a moment. “Are you still up to do my trials?”

The man shrugged. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Let’s shake on it, then.” He extended a hand.

Technoblade stared at Wilbur’s hand, then lethargically pulled one of his own out of his red cloak. He hesitated for just a moment, but eventually gripped Wilbur’s palm and shook it.

The next moment, he opened his eyes, and was someone entirely different.

The fighter was standing on top of a massive marble pillar. A glance over the edge revealed a drop into darkness. Even with his perfect night vision, Techno couldn’t see the bottom.

“Technoblade!”

He spun around on a dime, pulling his weapon out of its sheath at the same time. A diamond axe now sat heavy in his hand. In front of him, was the man he’d been speaking to. The pillar he was standing on was taller than Techno’s, and too far to try and jump for.

Gone were the street clothes the man had been wearing. Instead, a black wrought crown sat on his head and he was dressed lavishly in a blue and gold. An overhead light shown from somewhere the monster hunter couldn’t identify.

He pointed at Techno as he spoke. “I’ve heard stories about you, Technoblade. And from what I’ve heard, I think that I may have some answers for you.”

“Cool.” Techno glanced around the void they were standing in. He’d faced a few magic users, but never one that could make an illusion this convincing.

The magician walked towards the edge of the pillar he stood on. “Do you know who I am, Mr. Technoblade?”

“Not very high on my priority list right now.” The hunter spun around to glance at his surroundings, in case there was anything he could use. Only more darkness.

“I, am Wilbur Soot.” The man dramatically pressed a hand to his chest. “God of music and trials.”

Okay, that grabbed Techno’s attention.

The deity gestured towards the nothing around him. “I’ve got a couple of challenges set up for you. And I cannot wait to see how you do with them.”

Techno shifted his grip on his axe.

“I’ll see you in a bit! I really do hope you live up to your legend.”

Wilbur snapped his fingers just as Technoblade released his hatchet. It was aimed directly at the god’s chest. The monster hunter didn’t see if the weapon made contact. The pillar beneath his feet vanished, and he plunged into the darkness below.

[noladyme]

The Frog Princess. Chapter 3

She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria.  In stead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All soundtracked by an endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.

3

I woke to the smell of something sweet and tangy. My whole body was aching from having lain in such an uncomfortable position on the cold ground. I pulled myself up to sit, turning towards the embers of the fire. The witcher sat by it, stirring a small pot.

“Another one of your concoctions?”, I asked.

He looked up at me – his face once again a healthier shade; and his eyes amber. “Actually, it’s breakfast”, he answered, and handed me a small wooden bowl, filled with a bluish gruel. “Berry porridge”, he said. “It’s not the kind of cooking you’re used to; but it’s what we have”.

I tasted it tentatively. It was delicious. I ate my fill, and accepted seconds when the witcher offered it.

“Did she come from the grave back there?”, I asked, putting down the bowl finally. “Yes”, he answered shortly. “The grave was fresh, and the ground unconsecrated. She was killed in disgrace; probably by a lover”. “Poor girl”, I mumbled, and instantly felt ashamed of how I’d joked about him taking her head.

He stood up, and began kicking dirt into the embers. “She’s gone now”. “At peace?”, I asked. “I don’t know”, he admitted.

Jaskier came into the clearing then, buttoning his shirt. “There’s a lovely little stream down there. You should go and enjoy the water; take a bath, maybe”, he smiled at me. “She did last night”, the witcher smirked. I turned away – cheeks flush from a mix of rage and embarrassment.

---

We continued east through the forest. My knee was aching, but there wasn’t a chance in Hel he’d get me to complain.

Dragging his horse, we walked in silence; the witchers eyes tracing my face, before falling to the ground. “What?”, I asked. “Nothing”, he answered. “You’re staring at me”, I said.

He smiled. “I was just wondering”, he said. “Back at the feast; your cousin told you I was a witcher. Did you not know what that is?”. I chuckled. “I knew. I know”. “Hmm”, he grunted. “You did not react as I would have expected. Most people – most women – either draw back in revulsion or spread their legs in in lust”. I frowned at him. He chuckled gruffly. “So you are repulsed by me”, he said.

“It’s not the mutant part that I’m repulsed by”, I said. “It’s the shitty personality that goes with it”.

He grunted again. “Well I’ve lived many years. The world has changed, but my personality never did. So, you best get used to it”. I smirked. “I’ll do my best. But I’m not spreading my legs”, I said, trying for haughty; but I didn’t dare look at his reaction. “You’ll do your best, until the next time you try to run away”, he snorted.

I laughed out loud, and kicked a stone into the brushes. “So, did Eist send you with me to protect me, or to make sure I don’t escape?”. This time I did look at him. He smiled. “Well, I am a very good tracker”. “I could slit your throat while you sleep, and then run”, I said. “I don’t sleep much”, he answered. “I noticed”, I mumbled.

The trees became further apart, leading us towards fields of grain. The smell of fresh baked bread filled the air.

“So, you know about witchers, my lady?”, Jaskier called out from behind us. “Yes”, I replied. “My nan… Thrude told me about many strange things”.

A carriage passed us from behind; and I jumped to the side, almost stumbling into the ditch. The witcher grabbed my waist, not letting me fall. His hands were gentle. “How is your knee?”, he asked. “Pained”, I finally admitted.

He effortlessly lifted me into the air, setting me down on Roach’s back. Jaskier mumbled something disgruntledly. The witchers hands lingered around my waist for a second, making sure I wouldn’t fall of. “Thanks”, I said quietly. He grunted in response.

“Thrude”, Jaskier continued. “She’s your hand matron”. “Not anymore, I suppose”, I said sadly. “But she knows things. Things that she’s shared with you?”. “Are you writing another song, bard?”, I laughed. “Always!”, he said, winking at me.

I held on to the mare’s mane, getting comfortable in the saddle. “Thrude trained as a vöelve”. “A witch”, the witcher said. “No”, I challenged. “A vöelve is not a witch. She is a seeress, a wise woman; with knowledge of plants and healing”. “And killing”, the witcher once again interrupted.

I chuckled at him. “Do you oppose to Skellige’s traditions?”, I said. “No”, he answered. “I oppose to letting humans dabble in things they should not stick their noses into. Magic isn’t for them”.

We were quiet again.

---

In the afternoon we reached a small village, that seemed to have grown out of the fields. There was a blacksmith working at his anvil; and the witcher led us up to his small shop table. He lifted me of Roach, taking care to set me down gently. Our bodies were close enough for me to feel his chest against mine; and my breath hitched slightly. He stepped away quickly, as if burnt by a flame. His anger was dormant, but still there, it seemed. I sighed, and accepted Jaskiers hand to go sit on a bench by the blacksmiths small house.

“He’ll be over it soon”, the bard said, smiling at me. “I don’t care”, I answered. Jaskier looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “I can tell”.

The witcher went up to the blacksmith, a knife in his hands. It took me a second to recognize it as my own sgian-dubh. He must have taken it from my boot while fixing my wound. “Blacksmith, what can you do with this?”, the witcher asked the man; and handed him my knife. He turned it around in his hands. “Well, this is a rare one. Must have paid a pretty coin for it, master”, the man said, holding it into the air to let the sun fall on the engravings. “Some nice woodwork in the handle; and these patterns on the blade… Skellige?”. The Witcher grunted in response. “It’s not very useful now; blunt as it is”, the man continued. “I dare not heat it up; it might ruin the markings. But I can sharpen it for you; maybe oil the wood?”.

The witcher nodded. “My friends sister needs needle and a thread, for her torn dress; and a fresh bandage. We had a run in with a pack of wolves”. The blacksmith nodded with a friendly smile. “My wife will have both bandages and sewing gear. She’s in the house. I’ll work on your knife while you speak with her”.

The witcher came to stand by us; and Jaskier looked at him with beaming eyes. “You called me your friend”, he said. Another grunt. “Yes, and I also called her your sister”, he said and nodded at me; before knocking on the door of the house.

“Well; I take what I can get”, Jaskier smiled.

Having let the kind wife of the blacksmith sew a patch on my dress, and re-bandage my leg – she had resolutely refused to let me do it myself – we returned to her husband for my knife. The witcher paid the man; and we went to continue on our journey.

“Master witcher”, the blacksmith halted us. “The day is beginning to wane, and I’d hate to see you caught up by another pack of wolves. Rest here tonight. We haven’t much to offer in beds; but there’s a small barn out back; with clean straw to lay on”.

The witcher shook his head. “We wouldn’t want to impose on your hospitality. Just point us in the direction of an inn”. The man smiled – along with Jaskier. “Of course, sir. There will be one further in town. But do let us know if there is anything else, we can do for you”. The witcher answered with a smile himself; and led us on into town.

---

The inn was crowded; but we’d managed to find a table to sit by. Jaskier was sending eyes at one of the barmaids; soon leaving us for her company. We sat in silence for a long time, eating the serving of mutton in front of us. I picked at the meat on my plate.

“Dinner not suiting the lady?”, the witcher smirked at me. “I am sorry this establishment doesn’t live up to your high standards”.

I sighed, and looked at him pointedly. “I saw a wyvern rip a lambs head clean off once. I’ve never been able to stomach eating sheep since”. His eyes fled mine. “I see”, he said. “Did it set fire to the corpse afterwards?”. “Wyverns don’t breathe fire”, I answered venomously. “Anything else you want to test me on?”. He grunted.

“… For 'tis naught, but bad luck To fuck with a puck Lest your grandkid be born A hairy young faun Bleating and braying all day, hey ho..”

Jaskiers voice and lute led the patrons into a jaunty tune; goading them all to sing along. The young barmaid was hanging on to his every word – making it very clear to the whole room that his breeches would be lying on the floor next to her bed that night.

“The fishmonger's daughter, ba ba The fishmonger's daughter, ba ba…”.

I drained my mug of beer, and sighed. “Where is my room?”, I asked. “I suppose you’ll be watching the door all night; keeping me safe?”. “No”, the whitehaired man answered simply. I silently cheered at the prospect of having some privacy for the first time in a few days.

He took my arm, leading me through the crowd of patrons surrounding Jaskier. “I expect you’ll be making your own sleeping arrangements”, he said to the bard in a break between songs. The barmaid sat herself down on Jaskiers lap, and began whispering into his ear, making his face blush. “Well, I…”, he said; smiled, and shrugged at us. “Right”, the witcher said, and dragged me along towards the stairs to the second floor.

Once outside a crooked door, he opened it, and pushed me inside, following at my heels. I looked at him confused. “What are you…”, I managed, before he grabbed my arm again, forcing me to sit down on the bed.

“Dress on or off?”, he said, voice tired. He began to take of his boots, and set his things down; his sword leaning against the chair by the bed.

My breath hitched. Taking of his jerkin; his black shirt rode up, to reveal his toned physique. I caught a glimpse of the dark hair splayed his chest, before the hem fell back down, covering his torso again.

I jolted myself – forcing myself to focus. “Are you mad?”, I asked and stood up. He looked at me bored. “On? Or off?”. “I told you…”, I said. “Don’t flatter yourself, little frog”, he said. “I’m too tired for any more discussions; now make up your mind, and get under the sheets”.

My cheeks reddened. “On… I mean off”, I said, meeting his indifferent eyes.

I began to untie the laces of my dress, but stopped once I realized his gaze wasn’t diverting. I frowned at him, and he rolled his eyes. “Fine”, he said, and turned around for me to undress.

Once I had shed my clothes, leaving me in just my chemise; I quickly crawled under the sheets, covering myself. He sat down on the bed, next to me. “Hand”, he said. I furrowed my brow, and reached out my hand to him. Grabbing it, he pulled a thin rope from his pocket, tying it around my wrist; and fastening it to the bedpost beside me.

“What in Hel, do you think you’re doing?”, I growled at him. He pulled the knot one last time, checking to see that I wouldn’t be able to get free; but also, that I wouldn’t be in pain. “I intend to have a full night’s rest; without having to worry that you’ll try to run again”.

“You absolute bastard!”, I sneered. “Yes”, he answered, and laid down next to me on the bed; making the old mattress dip, and my body slide towards his. I clung to the side of the bed with my free hand, trying to avoid touching him in any way. He jostled a pillow to lie between us. “Now sleep”.

I kept moving, trying to get comfortable with my hand tied up above my head.

“Why didn’t you accept the blacksmiths offer?”, I asked. He sighed. “They had nothing to share with us”, he said; his eyes closed, and his arms crossed over his chest. “And you probably wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping next to goats”. “You expect me to sleep next to you”, I hissed. He let out a small chuckle, opening his eyes; and looking out of the corner of them at me. “At least you have a soft bed and a warm breakfast waiting for you in the morning, just like you’re used to”.

I found it difficult to control my rage. “Why do you act as if I don’t know hardship? I’ve spent winters hungry when I visited Faroe and the South Islands!”, I scoffed. “You had a choice to stay or go home. They do not. That, woman, is privilege”.

I jolted slightly from his use of the word woman. It was the first time he’d recognized that was what I was; and he seemed to realize this himself. He looked up into the ceiling; then closed his eyes, and turned his back to me.

“Now shut up. You’ve already kept me awake for two days and nights. Let me have a few hours of rest”, he rumbled. “Before I have to deal with your shit again”.

Once again, I had no answer, and I simply laid there – angry, sad; and well aware that he was right – about everything.

---

My sleep was restless. I woke several times to the sounds of grunts and moans from the rooms around us. I could swear one of the times I heard Jaskier giggling like a little boy; “Gertie… no… ooh! Well, when you put it like that…”.

The room smelled like cabbage, and it would have been dreadfully cold; had it not been for the witchers warm body resting so close to mine. He was breathing calmly; rhythmically. He turned over, facing me; eyes still closed, sleeping.

I watched him; holding my breath. Something was burning inside me; a feeling I knew perfectly well what was – but didn’t want to acknowledge.

His hand moved. It slid across the pillow between us; his fingertips lightly touching my arm for a second – sending a strange current through my body – before he gripped the grey slipcase, and scrunching it up in his hand. He furrowed his brow and exhaled deeply, seeming to have faced something very difficult in his dreams. I wanted to probe those dreams and see what he was seeing.

He suddenly cleared his throat; and I closed my eyes quickly, pretending to sleep.

“That’s a bad, bad bard…”, I heard from the next room over; followed by another giggle, what sounded like a cork popping, and then a yelp.

I kept my eyes closed, and tried to ignore the sounds. After a long time, sleep took me over.

---

A loud banging jostled us awake.

“Geralt!”, Jaskier yelled. “Geralt, she was married! We need to leave!”.

The witcher groaned in irritation, and got out of the bed; making me sink into the mattress. I struggled to sit up, keeping the covers over my body.

The witcher opened the door, and Jaskier leapt inside to safety, pressing his back against it to hold it closed. He looked at my confused face.

“I swear, I didn’t know”, he whispered; before – with an apologetic smirk – adding; “… in truth, we didn’t do much talking”.

“You’re an idiot, Jaskier”, the witcher grumbled. “It was bound to catch up to you at some point”.

“You’re not going to help me?”, the bard whined. “No”, was the answer.

The sound of footsteps thundered up the stairs. “I’ll get the whoreson!”, someone roared, and began hammering on the doors to the rooms around us.

“Geralt!”, Jaskier almost screeched at the witcher. He made a guttural sound. “Fine”, he said. “Keep out of sight”. He removed his shirt, leaving him in his breeches. I gulped slightly from the sight.

Jaskier crawled under the bed in a very undignified way. I could almost feel the mattress shaking from him shivering in fear underneath it.

Someone banged on our door. “Open up! Let me have that son of a dog!”.

The witcher opened the door calmly; staring down the bucktoothed man standing outside.

“Which is it?”, the witcher asked. “Is he a whoreson, or a dog’s son? Or is he both? Maybe the whore is a dog”. The man looked at him angrily. “This is none of your concern, witcher. I just want the bastard who I saw sneaking out of my Gerties door this morn’”.

Jaskier let out a small squeak from under the bed. The man didn’t seem to have heard him.

The witcher sighed. “You come here and jostle me out of bed, and the warm arms of this lady…”, he gestured at me, making me blush, “… to claim that I am hiding some poor sod who happened to cuckold you”. The man seemed to consider his words. The witcher continued. “My state of undress – and that of my female companion here – should make it quite clear to you, that I have other things to do; than be a living sanctuary for some bard, who happened to know how to sweettalk his way in to your wife’s bed”.

The mans face was turning red. “The cur arrived here same time as you – you must know where he is!”.

The witchers eyes became dark, and he bared his teeth. “You should worry more about where your wife is. It seems that if you’d done that in the first place, none of us would be in this situation”. He grabbed the man’s collar; making him shake in fear. “Now, fuck off!”.

“Right!”, the man whimpered. “I’ll go… speak to Gertie. Maybe I was mistaken”. The witcher groaned menacingly, and let go of the man – making him scuttle down the stairs faster than any mouse running from a cat.

The witcher closed the door, and turned around to face us.

The sunlight seeping through the small window lit up his naked torso. My breath hitched at the sight.

His chest was broad and firm, covered in the dark hair I’d seen a glimpse of the night before. The hair travelled down his muscular stomach; into his breeches. The sight of his toned physique made me understand how he could be so strong. It looked like he spent every day picking up boulders, and throwing them around. I supposed those boulders were more likely monsters; but either way, the exercise kept him at what seemed to be peak physical condition.

It was then I noticed the scars; so many of them, spread across his body. I’d known they would be there – witcher as he was – but the sight of them surprised me.

His amber eyes met mine. I didn’t mean to smile; but it happened. Suddenly he looked uneasy. He grabbed his shirt, and quickly put it on.

Jaskier crawled out from under the bed. “Well that was something!”, he declared smilingly. He sat himself down on the bed, and looked from the witcher to me; to the rope still tying me to the bed. His face went white. “Did I… interrupt something?”, he asked.

“No”, the witcher answered, and put on his boots. “If you insist on continuing on with us as far as Tigg, get your things and be ready to leave as soon as you can. I’m not going to help you if you get caught up by another jilted husband”.

Jaskier nodded, and hurried out the door.

The witcher walked up to me, and threw my knife on the bed. I used it to cut myself free. He turned around to let me get out of the bed and put on my dress. I remembered to slip the knife down my boot again.

We went downstairs. The table we’d occupied the night before was set with oatmeal porridge and some sausages. I sat down, and began eating – my stomach rumbling from hunger. The witcher smirked at me. “Better than mutton?”, he asked. I nodded with a half-smile.

“Who let in that bleeding cat again?”, the barman who’d served us said.

A grey, one-eyed tomcat prowled across the floor towards a fly resting there. With a jump it tried to catch its prey; only to have it fly away at the last minute. The cat looked up at me and hissed.

“Watch out for that one, miss. It’s feral. Hasn’t left a man or woman unscathed if they got too near”. I got up, and crouched down by the cat. It hissed at me again, before putting it’s paw up; as if reaching for me. I smiled at it, and blinked, slowly. The cat blinked back, put its paw back to the ground; and pressed its forehead to my outreached hand. I scratched its ear.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”, I said; and grabbed a piece of sausage from my plate; putting it on the floor in front of the cat. It instantly gobbled down the meat. “Hello, kitty. I’m Zaba”, I smiled; feeling the witchers eyes on my back. I sat down on my chair again, and the now purring bundle of fur stroked itself against my legs. I chuckled, and gave it a scratch under its chin. It was skinny; I could feel every bone in its body.

“Never seen it do that”, the barman said in wonder. “Did you ever try feeding it?”, I said. “Then it wouldn’t be hungry enough to go for the mice”, he answered. “It might be more keen to help you with that, if you didn’t treat it like so badly”, I mumbled.

The witcher looked at me with narrowed eyes.

The barman took a piece of dried meat from a hook hanging over the fire; and threw it at the cat. It jumped at the treat; almost swallowing it whole. I smiled.

The witcher made to leave; and I followed his lead. He walked up to the barman, and slipped some coins into his hand. “For your hospitality”, he said. “Take good care of the cat”, he added; a gruff warning in his voice. The barman swallowed hard, and nodded. My heart jumped a little, and I smiled again. “Thank you, master”, the barman said.

We walked out the door; and went to the small stable to get Roach.

“Thank you”, I half whispered to the witchers back. He grunted in response, looking over his shoulder at me; eyes warm.

Jaskier met us by the edge of the village; having somehow procured for himself an ass, that was now carrying his lute and satchel. “Took you long enough”, he complained. “Let’s leave this wretched place”.

Walking away from the village, I looked over my shoulder and saw my new feline friend looking at us from out the window of the inn. Someone scratched its ear, and it jumped out of sight.

---

Thanks for reading.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

- no lady

Tag list:

@ayamenimthiriel​

[iturbide]

Speaking of which...may we hear some more about their interactions in Kintsugi?

Oh of course I do love the fact that Kintsugi puts them together more than most of my other stuff (with the exception of Pre-Timeskip Fix-It, but that’s a whole other thing). 

Although their first meeting is relatively brief, since Ferdinand shows up with reinforcements at Myrddin and leaves shortly after the battle’s end, it’s actually a really important event because of where Ferdinand is mentally when it happens.  Edelgard sends him as the leader of the reinforcements for the Great Bridge, something that should be an honor -- but that Ferdinand can’t help but think is actually a subtle way of disposing of him since he continues to be her most vocal opponent in the Empire.  He doesn’t want to suspect this, but he can’t silence that deeply rooted doubt, either.  On top of that, he knows that if he falls, his friends back in the Empire, and in particular the ones that are suffering most from this drawn-out war (Bernadetta, Dorothea, and Petra chief among them) will be alone: he has people who depend on him, people he has to return to, and he’s terrified of dying here and leaving them without any kind of lifeline.

It makes him fight all the harder...but it doesn’t see him claim victory.  He makes the reasonable choice of trying to take out Marianne first, but Hilda blocks for her, and he finds himself unable to get through the Goneril’s defense; not only that, the cavalry arrives in the form of Lorenz, who tries to talk Ferdinand down and begs to know why he’s doing this, since this war goes against everything  his noble spirit should support -- and Ferdinand breaks, because he has no choice, they need him to come back! 

Unbeknownst to him, Claude and Byleth had been coming up from behind to assist after dealing with the rest of the reinforcements, and Claude naturally asks who needs him to come back -- which, of course, startles Ferdinand into whirling around with his lance, to which Claude’s wyvern shoots back up out of reach while Byleth ducks under its swing before Lorenz finally takes Ferdinand down, incapacitating and disarming him.  Ferdinand fully expects that he is going to die there, but resolves that he’s going to do it with his head held high...and instead Claude just asks him, conversationally, how things are going in the Empire.  Ferdinand is taken aback, and scoffs that he would never betray Adrestia by divulging secrets to the enemy, to which Claude replies that he wouldn’t ask Ferdinand to: he just wants to know what’s going on, because now that they’re restoring Garreg Mach they’ve been seeing a lot of Seiros worshippers coming in from the Empire as refugees, which is...well, understandably disconcerting.

Ferdinand can’t actually see how this kind of information would betray the Empire.  So he talks a little bit about the edicts that Edelgard has put in place, the conditions that commoners in Adrestia have been living through for the past few years...and though he doesn’t say it out loud it’s clear from how he speaks and how he looks that none of this is what he expected -- none of this is what he wanted, but he doesn’t feel he has a choice but to stay and keep pushing for change, even if Edelgard doesn’t want to listen to him, because leaving and being branded a traitor means that no one with power is left who will vouch for the commoners.  Claude can hear it and see it while Ferdinand speaks...and in the end, he suggests letting Ferdinand go.

This shocks everyone, Ferdinand included.  He naturally expects that Claude will want him to become a spy for the Alliance, which his noble heart would never allow -- and Claude gives him such a look, because he’s kidding, right?  Ferdinand, you would make a terrible spy, to which everyone around him nods in agreement...and eventually Ferdie grudgingly nods, too, because he really would be.  But Claude tells him that Adrestia needs someone like Ferdinand, who’s going to fight for the people even if it means butting heads with the Empress: the Alliance is going to do all it can to keep the loss of life to a minimum, but things are bound to get worse before they get better, so the best place for Ferdinand is back in the Empire where he’ll be able to save the most lives.

Ferdinand, who had never been able to get a solid read on Claude during their time in the Academy, is startled by this...but grateful, too, since it means that he’ll be able to return to the people who most need him.  He doesn’t consider himself Claude’s agent, nor does Claude consider him one -- but Claude still asks Marianne to patch Ferdinand up before he leaves, because he’s a good guy and doesn’t want to send Ferdie off in such rough shape.  Ferdinand himself is the one who refuses the offer, remarking that it would be more suspicious if he returned from a rout with signs of healing...which Claude can’t really argue, even if he’s not a fan.  (He still slips Ferdie a vulnerary so he can at least take care of himself, though he does it without the nobleman realizing, so Ferdinand just gets to puzzle over the fact that he doesn’t remember packing that before he left.)

Fast forward many months and Ferdinand and Claude finally run into each other again at Enbarr -- specifically, after the battle’s over and Edelgard is secretly taken into Alliance custody (since, while they did see each other in the battle for the palace, they didn’t have a chance to really interact since Claude and Ashe had their hands full trying to keep Petra from murdering someone).  Ferdinand, quite reasonably, wants to know what’s going to happen to the Empire now that Edelgard has been deposed, and Claude replies that it’s a good question -- and one he doesn’t know how to answer.  He doesn’t intend to take over the Empire, because that would just be repeating the same mistakes Edelgard made; but he’s also not from the Empire, and doesn’t know its history all that well, so he can’t really speculate on what will happen...or what should happen, for that matter.  He opens it up for open discussion with Ferdinand -- probably over tea, since Ferdie is the sort to offer to make some to chat over -- and while Ferdinand has no ambition to take over as ruler of the Empire, he does realize that Adrestia will need some kind of leadership, and finds that Claude has a broad and curious array of suggestions that don’t erase what Edelgard was trying to do (though he does put far more emphasis on lifting up the common folk than Edelgard did with her meritocratic system -- he wholeheartedly praises Ferdinand’s idea of making education available to everyone regardless of status and encourages him to make that happen).

Despite the fact that Ferdinand is technically a prisoner, he ends up free to roam the camp in much the way that Linhardt and Caspar have -- and of course he takes full advantage, making himself right at home and chatting with everyone on the way back to Garreg Mach.  While he doesn’t play a major role in the big discussions between Byleth, Claude, Dimitri, Edelgard, and Rhea (because Claude needs answers), he does bring tea to all the meetings and throws Edelgard for a loop because he’s clearly doing it of his own volition (and quite happily, at that).  He’s happy that there’s no fighting to worry about and wants, more than anything, to do what he can for the survivors -- starting with his friends, since they’re so close at hand and still deeply affected.

Of course, Claude does manage to pry information out of Edelgard and Rhea pertaining to the deeper mysteries in Fodlan, including Those Who Slither.  And because they still pose a major threat, Claude wants to deal with them as soon as possible -- but the way he does it is by telling everyone about what he learned, and letting them decide whether they want to take part or not.  After getting dragged into a five year war by Edelgard’s personal ambitions, this is a pretty shocking move to Ferdinand -- and all the more since Claude makes it clear that he’s going regardless of who else decides to come, because this isn’t something they can leave alone, but he doesn’t want to force anyone to take part, especially after how much they’ve suffered.  Dimitri is one of the first who agrees to come with him, along with Hilda -- but Ferdinand volunteers to come, too, for the sake of everyone in the Empire in hopes of preventing further suffering. 

(While Claude isn’t surprised by this move necessarily, he is grateful for it, because it really is just like Ferdinand to step up for the sake of helping everyone else.  He’s just that kind of guy.)

I just feel like there would be a lot of mutual respect between them, especially as they get the full measure of one another, and that they’d be able to learn from one another and get all new ideas from their discussions.  Claude can take some of these notions back to Almyra with him, just as Ferdinand can implement some of Claude’s ideas in Adrestia once they start rebuilding -- plus it’s just really nice to think about these two men who care so much about people and making the world a better place getting a chance to interact with each other and have a nice time together over tea and conversation.

[spicycreativity]

Fanfic Appreciation Week Day 7: A Place Where I Can Breathe

Yes, folks, I'm appreciating my own darn fanfic for the final day of Fanfic Appreciation Week because I worked really hard on it and it was a labor of love for/with one of my QPPs, my roommate, the man who got me into Sanders Sides: @\cadeorade-powercade (That's him in the aesthetic board)

Allow me to present the director's commentary for A Place Where I Can Breathe:

Content Warnings: All content warnings mentioned in the fic apply.

Chapter 1: I actually wrote this fairly late in the game. It's meant to serve as a prologue and orient the viewer in the universe, s opposed to staring on Chapter 2, which just throws the viewer in without context. I think it was a good choice, as it also allowed me to introduce the concept of the Sides having power focuses early on.

The Premise: Cade is a Virgil stan and he was getting frustrated looking for Virgil fic. He was finding a lot of stuff written without nuance by young authors, a sort of "by teenagers for teenagers" type deal. We are not teenagers, so we both have a hard time relating to that kind of teen angst fic, as we're not the target audience. So he asked me to write him a Virgil fic and we worked together to identify what plot he wanted, what the Mindscape looked like, and what quirks the Sides have. So a lot of this fic is quite gratuitous and self-indulgent

The Title: Lizzie McAlpine has a song called "Apple Pie" which includes the lyric "I've been running around trying to find a place where I can breathe." Apple Pie SCREAMS Moceit to me, and I had taken notice of the lyric and wanted to use it as the title for a Moceit fic. I didn't really have an idea beyond that, and when Cade asked me to write this fic, I realized it was actually perfect and summed up Virgil's inner struggle quite nicely. So cheers to "A Place Where I Can Breathe," the Moceit Fic That Wasn't

-Cade asked me specifically to include Virgil having a spider and I wrote nearly the whole fic without doing so, then had to go back and sprinkle some references in. I think I managed 2 total.

Chapter 2:

"Uh, how about I hold off on that until I actually see my room?" Virgil stared expectantly at Roman, who bounced on his toes. "Lead on, Macduff."

"That's not the line and you know it," Roman complained, but he turned to lead Virgil to his room. "It's ' lay on, Macduff,' and--"

-This fic was originally supposed to reach a climax with a confrontation between Remus and Roman, and "lay on, Macduff" would come back as a brick joke. Unfortunately, the original ending was a result of me getting tired and lazy, so I had to go back and fix it, and we lost the Roman-Remus confrontation.

It was hard for Virgil to not shudder at the sudden heat and weight on him. With his senses already open and taking in more information than his brain seemed to want to process, touch was an added stressor, more unwanted sensory input.

-Virgil being touch-averse is a direct shoutout to Cade, who is also touch-averse.

Roman had already transformed the living room: metallic streamers of purple and black stretched across the corners of the ceiling, and shiny balloons spelling out A-N-X-E-I-T-Y hovered above the TV.

-Upon first writing, Virgil had already given the upstairs crew his name, so the banner spelled out "VIRIGL" which is way funnier than "ANXEITY." But then his name reveal became a plot point so I had to go back and change it.

-Let! Virgil! Be! Mean!

-Virgil's line about hearing refrigerator noise when Roman talks is another shout-out to Cade, who has leveled that accusation at me

A small, cruel part of him protested at the idea that he would need special treatment and desperately wanted to throw it back in Patton's face. He wasn't a sweetheart, he wasn't a baby. He didn't need to crawl into a blanket fort with Dad just because he was a little stressed.

-Remus calls Janus "Janus Geminus" because I was tired and couldn't come up with a pun. "Geminus" is one of the Roman god Janus' epithets; another is "Pater" meaning "Father." That led to a conversation about Remus deliberately confusing Patton by calling Janus "Daddy," but I couldn't think of a clean way to fit the explanation into the narrative, so I stuck with "Geminus."

Chapter 3:

"There's nothing normal about that! " Roman stared in horror at the coffee massacre Virgil had orchestrated. What had once been a respectable (if not very tasty) cup of black coffee was now part of a 1:1 coffee to milk suspension, the liquid a tasteful shade of tan suitable for business casual trousers or a show-ready chihuahua.

-Cade is a certified Nightmare Man and came up with Virgil's horrifying coffee order after I asked him about it. Keep an eye out for Janus' equally horrifying coffee order later in the fic.

1) Shouts out the fact that Janus is canonically a Dostoevsky fan

Chapter 4:

Janus smiled at him. "Where reason fails, the Devil helps." He fussed with his gloves and straightened his capelet. "It's showtime."

-I fucking love Crime and Punishment. Look at me. Look at me. I fucking love Crime and Punishment. Janus' quoting Raskolnikov serves multiple purposes:

2) Lampshades the fact that Roman just conveniently happened to be alone in the living room, because I didn't want to waste time getting him there. That makes me, the author, the Devil

3) Foreshadows the impending disaster. When Raskolnikov says this line it is because he had planned to commit axe murder. The axe he was planning to steal had been moved, but he finds another, different axe to use. Raskolnikov messes up the murder and ends up killing an innocent witness in addition to his intended target. Janus messes up his manipulation attempt and ends up murdering Roman's self esteem

-I was going to include a reference to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (Remus' line "debauchery and vomit" was originally going to be "blood, love, and rhetoric") but I didn't because... Uh... Hm. Why didn't I do that. Maybe I just forgot about it???

-Roman is too stubborn to manipulate for long and that is a fact.

"I was pretty much done anyway," Remus said. "There's only so much debauchery and vomit you can fit into one story."

-Cade specifically ask me that nobody cry in this fic, but after I had Janus eviscerate Roman I knew he couldn't not cry a little. I kept it to a minimum because there's already a billion fucking fics about [literally any Side] crying on the shoulder of [literally any other Side] and it's really just not interesting to either of us.

-It didn't come up because it doesn't matter, but Thomas dreamed he was participating in the exact Dionysian orgy that took place in The Secret History because it's my fic and I said so.

Chapter 5:

He just sat back and watched and tugged at his hair while Janus spooned mound after mound of crisp white sugar into his mug and Virgil poured his customary eight fluid ounces of milk into his own mug.

-Cade strikes again. Virgil's coffee order is equal amounts milk to coffee; Janus' is equal parts sugar to coffee. He had asked me to include a scene where Roman catches Janus massacring his coffee and is appropriately horrified, but I uhh... Didn't write it. I still might include it as an omake someday.

-I imagine that Roman feels really strongly about dragons vs wyverns, and Remus just pretends to give a shit because he thinks it's funny to wind Roman up. Fortunately for me but unfortunately for my sense of realism in writing, I can't relate because I adore my sister and we get along perfectly almost 100% of the time.

"You shut us down every chance you get!" Remus said, baring his teeth. "How would you like it if your pens never wrote, hm? What would you do with all those thoughts in your head?"

-I do wish I had developed the concept of power focuses a bit more, established rules and such. Basically, Patton is always on the prowl for wrongthink and actively represses it, which in turn breaks or sabotages the Dark Sides' power focus.

Chapter 6: This chapter really should have been Janus and Roman but I was really tired and didn't want to bother with it. Plus, you know, Moceit. This chapter was meant to demonstrate how the characters would get along without Virgil nannying them. There's friction, but everyone is making a conscious, deliberate effort to get along because they love Virgil, and love is a series of choices you make.

I chose "Leo" as the answer for the answer to the crossword clue instead of "Virgo," because my other QPP is a Leo. She'll never read this fic, but I did it anyway because I love her. (Trivia: My sign is Virgo, so it was really a choice between shouting her out and shouting me out, and the last chapter is self-indulgent enough, thank you).

Chapter 7: I was gonna write a fic where all the Sides watched Cats the Musical because I was going through a phase. Then Cade requested this so I combined the two ideas. By this point I was fucking exhausted, and that's the only thing that saved you and the rest of the world from me writing the Sides riffing on the movie scene-by-scene. I could come up with snarky commentary for almost every, if not every single song from the movie.

Most notably, I cut a Patton-Remus interaction where Remus declares his love for Grizabella and Patton gets all staryy-eyed about Remus connecting with the idea of rising above rejection and being loved and accepted only for Remus to shoot him down and explain that he just likes that she got to die in a tire fire.

Other cut scenes include Janus quietly pretending not to go feral over Mister Mistoffelees, Patton full-on fucking sobbing over Grizabella and the kittens, and Logan experiencing a deep, soulful kinship with Munkustrap during Of The Awefull Battle of the Pekes and the Pollices (and henceforth introducing the phrase "like herding cats" into his regular vocabulary

[monstersandmaw]

Embers - Male dragon shifter x reader, Chapter Fourteen (final!) (nsfw)

You thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you? Do you have so little faith in me?

Spoilers: I was in bed when I remembered, and it’s 11.45pm here and I totally had forgotten. I’m so sorry.

Well, this is it, folks! The conclusion to the 14-part story! Hope you’ve enjoyed it, and thanks to the few of you who’ve let me know when you’ve enjoyed it, and to those of you who have consistently reminded me when I’ve forgotten to post! <3

This week: our boy has shown us his true wyvern form and has taken us for a brief test-flight around the grounds of his home, but now he's got a surprise for us and wants to take us further afield!

Catch up on previous episodes here:

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen

You would remember that flight for the rest of your life. The way the ground disappeared beneath you should have left you a frightened wreck, but sitting astride Mikaeïl like that gave you a strange rush of courage, knowing that his power and strength and agility in the air would keep you safe, that you would not fall tumbling to your death through the endless space beneath you. He would bear you up, hold you aloft, soar and glide with you as the world passed by beneath. It was hard not to laugh like a lunatic after a while, even once the adrenaline had mostly worn off.

Mikaeïl’s wing beats whooshed with a steady, thrumming rhythm as he flew, the vast stretch of the leathery wings reaching as wide as an aeroplane tip-to-tip, his neck long and spiked extending ahead of you, and, if you were brave enough, you could twist and look behind you and see the rippling muscles of his back and tail working to steady himself like a rudder in the strong currents up this high.

In the sun his scales gleamed a million shades and hues of gold and amber, and you barely noticed the countryside streaming past beneath you. As you finally released your grip on a very handy pair of spikes at the base of his neck, about ten minutes into the journey, you allowed yourself to run your palm down the smooth, reptilian scales of his withers. With a rumbling groan that was audible even with the wind roaring in your ears, he dropped a few feet in altitude as the rhythm of his wings faltered. Your stomach lurched and you felt the blood drain from your face.

“Careful,” Mikaeïl laughed, half turning back to look at you over his shoulder at you. “Remember what I told you about you being distracting while I fly?”

You laughed and apologised, but he could clearly see that you meant not a word of it, and he turned away, his nostrils actually smoking softly, which was a new sight.

“Hey,” you called. “Can you breathe fire?”

“I’m surprised that that hasn’t come up before now,” he said. “Yes,” he added. “I can. Why, do you want a demonstration?”

You looked around at the vast emptiness on all sides and shrugged. “Here’s as safe a place as any I can think of…” you yelled.

Unexpectedly, Mikaeïl laughed. “Hold on,” he rumbled. Adjusting the pattern of his wing beats, slowing down a little and tilting his head downwards, Mikaeïl sucked in a great lungful of air, his ribs expanding beneath you, and suddenly, with a booming roar, a gout of flame burst from his open mouth below you.

The distant heat of it hit you in the face as you flew past it, and you gasped, laughing. “That’s amazing!”

He shook his head and simply took a moment to breathe and continue flying. “We’re nearly there,” he said, turning his nose first and then banking right with the rest of his body as he shifted direction slightly, heading for a wooded patch of hillside above a glimmering lake shaped like a diamond.

In the distance, a small, lone building caught your attention and as he shot like a missile right towards it, it began to reveal itself with greater and greater clarity. It looked like a ruined tower, seated at the top end of a wide, grassy meadow, backed by deciduous trees.

Leaning forwards, taking hold of those two golden horns at the base of his neck, you shouted, “Is that where we’re headed?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Hold on. While I descend, alright?”

“Yeah,” you said, stomach swooping unpleasantly again as he dropped in altitude.

In fact, landing in the meadow was easier this time than it had been the first back at his estate. Perhaps that was because you knew what to expect and you hadn’t rammed your eyes shut this time, but whatever the reason, you slithered laughing to the floor as he helped you down off his back and settled down into the grass with a soft rumble.

“Are you alight?” he asked, breathing hard from the effort of the careful landing. “Not too cold?”

You turned your hands over and grimaced a little. “Hands are a bit chilly,” you mumbled, “But no, I’m ok.”

“Here,” he said before he exhaled a rush of warm breath over your hands. “Better?”

Useful. With an answering grin, you nodded, and he led you up the meadow towards what you could now see was a cylindrical tower with a red tiled roof. “It looks like one of those fairytale castles where a helpless royal is locked in a keep and guarded by a monstrous dragon…”

“And which one of us are you suggesting is the helpless royal?” he asked, his reptilian face expressing curious sarcasm with the merest adjustment of his brow, golden eyes flaring.

“Well it’s not me,” you laughed. “I’m pretty sure don’t have a single drop of blue blood in my veins…”

“You must be the dragon then,” Mikaeïl grinned, flashing his rows of incredibly sharp teeth and adjusting his wings behind him like a bird just returned from a long flight. He caught you staring at him again, and tilted his head. “What?”

“I still can’t believe you kept this from me for so long,” you said, pushing through the whispering grasses beside him as he lifted elegant, clawed hind paws and balanced on his thumbs at the front like a bat. His long, elegant tail swung behind him, a counterweight for his neck and head.

“Kept what from you? My wyvern form?”

You shrugged. “I don’t blame you, not with the history your kind has suffered, but I’m just… overwhelmed. In a good way!” you added hastily as his regular footfalls faltered.

Mikaeïl’s relieved answering chuckle was deep and throaty and it made you prickle hot all over. Something of that must have showed in your eyes because he lowered his head and sniffed gently, playfully at your neck, making you gasp. “Apparently so,” he rumbled and you let out a quiet - if obscene - moan that you hadn’t really meant to make. He only laughed again and twitched his head towards the tower. “Come on.”

“What is this place?” you asked, finally kicking your legs back into action as he moved off ahead of you.

“It belongs to my family,” he said. “It was once part of the estate of a great hunting lodge, gifted to us by the royal family for our services. We sold most of the land a long time ago, but we kept this meadow, the woodlands, and the folly.”

“The folly?” you asked, looking at the tower. “It’s not real?”

“Well, it’s not an illusion but it was never part of a castle if that’s what you mean. It does have a room at the top and a fireplace though, but no running water or electricity.”

He led you right up to the shadow of the tower before revealing anything else to you, and even when he did, he only asked you to open the heavy wooden door at the base of the tower, and bring out what was inside.

Boiling with curiosity, you did as bidden, and you returned into the daylight with an enormous grin on your face, and a picnic hamper and blanket in your arms. “Mikaeïl,” you smiled. “You big softie.”

He laughed nervously, and then the lines of his body became taut, muscles bunching as he turned a bit shy and awkward. “Do you want me to shift…?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” you shrugged as you spread out the blanket and opened the huge basket to discover an absolute feast inside. Its contents were cool too, and you saw two ice blocks sitting there to keep it all fresh. “When did you plot and pull all this off?”

As he settled his large, bronze body down on the grass beside you, he said, “I had some help.”

“From whom?”

“Frankie,” he said. “He dropped off the basket this morning. And my sister helped too. She’s the one who technically owns this land, and she keeps the keys to the folly.”

“Well, thank them both for me next time you see them, will you? This is amazing.”

“I’m glad,” he said, the fondness for you ringing deeply in his voice. He lowered his head and nuzzled at your back, breathing more warm air around you in an aura of comfort. Your head tipped back and he supported you as you sagged into him for a moment. “You’ve got other things on your mind, haven’t you?” he asked in a darker, sweeter voice.

You flushed hot at his question, but nodded. “Nothing I can’t handle for a while though,” you smirked at him and he rolled his eyes. “I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate this; I do… a lot…”

He leaned in close, bringing his maw full of deadly teeth right up to your ear, and whispered, “I know. I can smell it on you.”

Heat flared white inside you and you groaned.

As amazing as the food was, and the fruit cordial to wash it down, you could barely keep your hands off him. All the while you ate and enjoyed the view, you trailed the fingers of one hand over his unbelievably sensitive wing membrane until he was shuddering and groaning, and even as you fed him morsels of food, the way his tongue cleaned your fingers was nothing short of indecent. You wanted that tongue elsewhere. Finally, with the food long finished and the afternoon tipping towards evening, the mood shifted completely and he began to growl and purr.

“I’m not the only one who’s having trouble,” you commented and he gnashed his teeth for a moment, a plume of smoke escaping and coiling upwards through the still air. “Gods, Mikaeïl, you’re so beautiful.”

He rolled slightly onto one side and you saw that a slit in his lower abdomen was growing puffy, swollen, and had begun to glisten too. His legs kicked once as he came to lie on his side completely, his clawed feet lying limp and gentle now, one wing flopping over to flatten the grass behind him like a toppled sail from a tall ship. “I can’t…” he whispered, though it came out more as an earthy growl. His head fell heavily to the grass too and he lay there panting gently as you began to touch him everywhere you could reach.

In no time he was quivering and snorting beneath your attention and praise. His creamy belly heaved and one hind leg twitched.

“I want you,” you heard him hiss between gasps. “Let me taste you…”

You nodded, and he watched you undress with glazed, unfocused eyes and a slack-jawed expression of wonder and open lust. The moment you were free of your last pieces of clothing, he pounced on you like a cat after a mouse. There was no denying that he was a predator, as careful as he always was with you. His ‘attack’ knocked you back into the grass and he began to lave his tongue over your body as he reared up over you, blotting out the sun with his gleaming, scaled body.

His wings spread suddenly wide, his hook-taloned thumbs barely enough to balance him as he mouthed eagerly at your shoulder and took your whole torso briefly in his mouth while he let his tongue rasp over your skin. He never once gave you even the barest hint of pain, the tip of his serpentine tongue lavishing attention on your hardening nipples until your back arched and you cried out, desperate for more. You might even have articulated that aloud, but you couldn’t be sure. The sensation of his tongue moved slowly south until he tasted you and he let out a low-frequency snarl that you felt in your chest as much as heard.

“Oh gods,” he rasped, quickening his pace.

As you glanced down the length of your body, you saw that his cock had begun to emerge from the sheath between his legs and he was not small; there was no way you could take him in this form. Pre-come dripped liberally from his arrow-head tip and down his leg as he moved, his growling intensifying.

Suddenly he drew back from you with a hiss, breathing hard, sparks dancing at his nostrils. His slit pupils were now blown into a wide circle of blackness with barely a ring of the usual gold around them, and he just stood there, frozen in place and staring at you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked faintly, dizzy from the change of pace. “Come back… Mikaeïl, please…”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I… I got carried away… I… I shouldn’t… I could hurt you like this. I should… uh…”

His cock twitched visibly as you moved and he half turned away. “Mikaeïl, please,” you whimpered. “I don’t mind what form you’re in, but please don’t stop touching me… I’m so close now… I need you…”

“Let me…” he said and his body twitched. A moment later, he began to change visibly. The vast wings folded down into his back, coppery scales started to melt away and his size diminished until, with a roar of what could only have been pain, the Mikaeïl with which you were much more familiar crouched on all fours at a little distance from you, breathing hard and sweating and naked. Somehow, he was also still hard.

You rose on shaky limbs and reached out to touch him. He gasped as your palm came down tenderly on the scales that still lined his hips, and you could see that his hands and feet remained clawed and scaled as well. He hadn’t managed to shift back to his more ‘human’ form, but none of that mattered now. “Come and lie down with me,” you said, trying to draw him down to the blanket.

Mikaeïl’s red hair was long and loose and it fell around his face in a curtain of fire, but as he tilted his head up to meet your gaze you could see that lying down quietly was the last thing on his mind.

“Or not,” you grinned, and he laughed hoarsely. He still had sharper teeth than any human would, and his eyes blazed a bright gold.

With hands that were more like gilded gauntlets tipped with talons than they were hands, he laid you back down and lowered his mouth once more to you. It didn't take long with the intense heat of his tongue pressed and lapping against you, sucking and making the most obscene noises, for you to come hard against his mouth. He stayed put and teased you all the way through your orgasm, prolonging it as much as he could before finally withdrawing from you and licking the taste of you from his beautiful lips. His mouth was puffy and red from his efforts, and he stared at you with open hunger in his eyes.

You parted your legs and he took it for the invitation it was, eyes flaring again. With his claws pricking against your hips, he paused and said, “I can’t use my hands,” he said. “And I don’t want to hurt you.” His ridged cock was flushed and red, and still bigger than anything you’d ever had inside you before being with him, but you just cautioned him to go gently, which he did with great effort.

His thighs shook with the effort of not sinking himself hilt deep into you in one thrust, but after a while it became too much for you to bear. You raised your hips and reached for him at the same time, pulling him the rest of the way inside you with a cry that you almost didn’t hear through the spike of pleasure that shot through you. He filled you so completely you thought you might never feel the same again.

Mikaeïl cried out and began to move, slowly at first, snarling and growling, lips pulled back with the intensity of his pleasure. “You’re so tight,” he gasped as he lifted you up higher. With the adjustment in angle, you tipped your head back and yelled wordlessly. “Oh gods,” he said as he picked up his pace, ramming himself into you over and over with a feverish light in his eyes. “I’m not going to last.”

“Come for me,” you slurred. “Mikaeïl, come for me…”

A mere three thrusts later, he did. His hips thrust up flush against you and his head rolled back, spine arching like a bow at full draw as he emptied himself inside you with an open-mouthed roar. There was something so primal about the sight of him like this - usually so composed and reserved, not a hair out of place nor a wrinkle in his shirt - as he gave himself to you, the scales up his arms and on his hips glimmering in the last rays of the sun, and you tumbled after him a heartbeat later.

As you clenched around him, coming a second time, he bowed forwards over you like a supplicant at an altar, and fell against your neck. He kissed you weakly, his body still wracked with the last throes of his own intense orgasm.

In an unsteady, gasping whisper, he said, “I love you,” against the sweat-sheened skin of your neck, right against your thrumming heartbeat. “I love you, I love you,” he chanted, even as his body still twitched and his cock pulsed inside you.

Placing your arms around him and stroking the skin of his back, tracing the beginning of the scales halfway down his spine, you teased gentle, calming circles, centring him. His hair fell around you in a straight cascade and you raked your fingers through it too, feeling him going slack all over. “Shh,” you smiled, kissing his slightly pointed ear. “I love you too Mikaeïl. I love you too.”

___

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[x-reader-theater]

My Days Are Numbered, but so Are Yours {6}

Relationship: Geralt of Rivia X Male!Disabled!Reader

Summary: Every conversation is easier over a game of Gewnt. 

Warnings: Cursing, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Word Count: 1202 words

A/N: Guess what? We’re at chapter 6 and still we have more chapters to go! This story is actually over 13,000 words in length. I want you all to have the ending you deserve, and this is, hopefully, it. If any of you who have seen the show don’t know Gwent, there’s a gwent game that you can buy and play that will hopefully explain everything, but it’s a really fun card game that everyone should check out. Thank you to my editor @mystic-writes​. You are a gem. Thank you so much on your feedback from yesterday. I really appreciate all of you who have re-blogged my work. It means so much. Please like, comment, and reblog, and please send me some asks! It gets lonely in an empty ask box.  Now, without further ado,  My Days Are Numbered, but so Are Yours chapter 6.

Take a Chance for the Nights are Short (Book 1) [1]

Hold me Tight for the Days are Long (Book 2) [2]

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Chapter 6: Of Cards and Conversations

"You up for a round of Gwent?" You shake your deck at Geralt from the kitchen table. It's been years since you've played with anyone, it'll be nice to try again. If Geralt agrees, of course. 

"What?" He asks from Ciri's bedside. While she hadn't been seriously harmed, Triss had ordered a bout of bed rest. 

You shake your cards again. They rattle around in their case. "Come on. A game. That is assuming you have played before." You quirk your eyebrow up at that. Geralt glares at you. 

"Of course I've played," he grumbles out. "But I don't have a deck." 

You set the deck box on the table, turn around in your chair, and reach up with your hand to grab the large box on one of the shelves in your tiny kitchen. You lightly place it on the table and open it up. Three more decks inside. Nilfgaard, Northern Realms, and Scoia'tael. You prefer the monster deck yourself, but you're good with all of them. You've spent many years cultivating your collection. 

Geralt gets up and walks over, picking up the Northern Realms box and opening it, looking through the cards. "You have some rare cards here. Would fetch a pretty penny." 

"What use for money do I have here?" You ask as you start shuffling your deck. "And besides. It wouldn't be as much fun without the cards. You might be able to beat me then," you say with a smirk. 

Geralt raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Well, we'll have to see about that!" He exclaims, though not too loud. Ciri's still asleep. 

You set up for your game of Gwent, flip a coin, and Geralt goes first. It's interesting to watch him play. All that tactical training by Vessimir must have paid off. 

"You play like Eskel…" You mutter to yourself, placing your hand on your chin. 

You hear Geralt's neck snap up to look at you. "What did you say?" 

You look up at him as you play a card. "I said, you play like Eskel." 

"How- how do you know Eskel?" Geralt asks. 

You lean forward, tilting your cards to your chest as you say, "I'll tell you, if you play a card." He shakes his head at that, shocked, before placing a card down onto the table. "I met him while I was dead. We talked, had a rather adventurous night, one you probably don't need to hear the details of-" Geralt grunts. "-and after running into him a few more times, he brought me to Kaer Morhen. He and Lambert trained me to fight. I may not be as good as a Witcher, but I sure as hell won't be losing another arm to a wyvern." You wave your left arm at him. Or, half of it at least. 

"And you played Gwent with them…" Geralt says. 

You shake your head and play a card, knocking on the table to convey that you pass. "Just with Eskel. Lambert was far too serious." You drop your chin and say in a gravely, mock imitation of Lambert's voice, "'I'm Lambert and I take everything way too seriously. I hate being a Witcher and I kill everything mleh."

Geralt starts laughing as he places a few more cards down, before knocking. "You know, that's a pretty good impression of the man." 

You shrug. "I try my best," you say with a smile. 

Geralt has won the first round, but he had to get rid of most of his cards to do it. You have significantly more cards than him. You take the monster cards on the table and shuffle them up, holding them face down to Geralt. He picks one and it goes back on the table, the rest in the discard. Geralt discards his field and draws a new card. 

"There was one time, when I was traveling with Jaskier," Geralt says, as you place your first card. "I had lost my swords, and Jaskier was determined that a 'Witcher must have swords!'" Geralt plays a card and you watch as his face lights up. You've never seen him look this way, smiling and laughing without care. You feel a pang in your heart as you see this smile. You still love him. You play a card. "So, he went out and bought me a new sword. Zerrikanian Steel. The best you'll find! And at a good price too!'" 

You laugh as he says this. "Is that your Jask impression?" You hate it. 

Geralt chuckles and continues. "Well, when I used it, the first time I blocked a blow, it shattered!" 

You start laughing even harder, and Geralt joins you. Finally, when you catch your breath, you can feel your cheeks are hot and you're looking at Geralt with such joy, all your thoughts of being alone are gone from your mind. 

It's weird talking like this with Geralt again. Laughing and making fun of mutual friends. You haven't talked with Geralt like this in years, and it's like you never left. You've been friends for years, and nothing happened. 

Until Geralt looks at you, sadness in his eyes. "You know, he wrote a song about you." Your smile falters. "After you… died." Even though Geralt's been with you for a few days, and knows you're alive. It's as if he doesn't believe it. "'A ballad for a Silver Jackal.'" 

"I haven't heard it…" You say, though you did get recognized a few times by people in need. Now that you think of it, they may have mentioned a song… 

"It's perfect. Every bit of it," Geralt says, looking down into one of the floorboards like it held the key to one of his deeper, repressed memories. "Beautiful. He wrote it in a day. When we got back to town, he played it." Geralt looks up at you, and for a man who can't feel, he sure does look sad. "I haven't felt emotions in a long, long time. And yet… when I heard that…" Geralt trails off. 

You don't know if he's embarrassed or just glum. Maybe both. 

You clear your throat and point at the board. "Uh. It's your turn," you say simply. 

Geralt nods and plays a card. He places it in the wrong row, and you move it to the right one for him. You play. He plays. You place a card. He does the same. You, him. You, him. 

Your heart's not in the game anymore, but you keep playing it, setting down card after card. Eventually, you both run out of cards. You won. 

It doesn't feel like it. 

"Congrats," Geralt says. 

You don't look up at him as you gather up your cards to put them away. Geralt does the same and silently, you both work in tandem. Geralt puts the card box away and gets up from the table, moving back toward Ciri. 

"Geralt?" You call out to him. 

He stops and looks over his shoulder. "Yes?" 

You stand up. "Did you miss me?" 

He nods. "Yes. I did." He goes and sits back next to Ciri's bedside. 

You slump into your chair, thinking. 

It's going to be a long night.

[love-and-monsters]

Wyvern Prince 22

M wyvern X F human, 3,243 words.

Davrakoss pulled closer to you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You had made three attempts to get up so far and each time, Davrakoss had tried to pin you back into bed.

“Are we going to lie in bed all day?” you asked. Davrakoss sighed, golden eyes fluttering open.

“We could,” he said. “You could use a nice break.”

“I’ve been having a nice break,” you said. “This is a vacation, basically.”

Davrakoss slid his arms off you and rolled onto his stomach. His hair fell over his face and he blew it out of the way. “Mmhm. You feel like you’re on a vacation, do you?” He gave a soft laugh. “Have you ever been on a vacation before?”

“Yes,” you said defensively. “I’ve been.”

“And when was this?”

It took some time for you to think about it. “A couple of years ago?” Admittedly, getting breaks was hard when you were a member of castle staff. Davrakoss lifted his brows at you. “Okay,” you said defensively, “when did you last get a break?”

“It was a while ago,” he admitted. “But that’s why I would like to take one.” He stood up. He was wearing a pale white shift, one that was almost see-through. You could feel your face warming as you looked at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “We can take a day off today,” he suggested. “I’m sure my parents won’t mind. We can tell them we’re still thinking things over and that we need some time.” He glanced at you. “As long as you’re all right with it, of course?”

“Where would we be going?” you asked.

“It’s a ten-minute flight. Just a little local area that I like. You’ll like it too.” He smiled encouragingly at you.

It was tempting. The idea of just flying away and leaving all your problems behind you seemed so nice. But the guilt and uncertainty of trying to leave all your problems for a little while made you hesitate.

Davrakoss took your face gently in his hands. “You should take a nice break. I know you’ve been stressed recently.”

“Okay,” you said. “Maybe it is a good idea to take a break.”

Davrakoss smiled and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “Good. Let’s have breakfast and then we can leave.”

Breakfast was quick, since you were able to eat some of the leftover deer Davrakoss had caught. He hurried off to tell his parents where you were going, then returned and hooked his arm through yours. “Ready?”

“Do I need to bring anything?” you asked, glancing over your supplies. Davrakoss shook his head.

“Only yourself.” He paused for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, just yourself.”

The hesitation was strange, but you shook it off. Davrakoss guided you back through the tunnels and out to the mouth of the cave. He delinked his arm from yours and took a few steps back.

Watching him change was interesting. It usually happened so fast that you didn’t get a good look at it, but this time, you could see him almost unfurl, stretching and growing into his full form. The golden sunlight glinted off his scales, sensing little emerald shards of light gleaming around you.

He caught sight of you looking at him and tilted his head. “Everything all right?”

“Yes,” you said, trying to sound normal. “I- you just look really nice like that.”

Davrakoss blinked at you, then his head moved down. He nuzzled his nose against your chest. The touch was delicate, like he was worried that he could hurt you if he pushed too hard. “You really are wonderful,” he said after a moment. There was so much adoration in his voice that it made a lump form in your throat.

He bent close enough to the ground so you could clamber up on his back. Once you were settled, he lunged forward and soared away from the cave.

As soon as you moved away from the mountain, Davrakoss banked hard to the left and dropped into a steep dive. You lowered yourself to his back, digging your fingers into the crevices of his scales. It wouldn’t actually do much if he were to turn over in the air, you realized, but it prevented you from slipping.

He had been right that it was a quick flight. After only a few minutes, the dive went even steeper and you headed right toward the forest beneath you.

As the ground got clearer, Davrakoss slowed down and went incrementally lower. Peering over his back, you could see why. The trees grew thick together and attempting to land quickly would be a recipe for crashing.

Gradually, Davrakoss got lower and lower. Finally, he picked out a clear path through the trees and dove in for a landing.

He hit the ground and skidded to a rapid stop. You slid off a little awkwardly. As soon as your feet were on the ground, Davrakoss shifted back to his human form.

As he did, you noticed exactly where he’d been bringing you. You’d been focusing so much on the tightly-packed trees that you had completely missed the sprawling lake that you had landed next to.

The trees led almost right up to the edge of the lake, partially obscuring it from view. The water glittered bright blue in the areas where the sunlight pierced through the leaves. A tiny river trickled into the lake from a rocky outcropping, creating the constant sound of rushing water.

“I came here a lot when I was a hatchling,” Davrakoss said, staring fondly out over the lake. “It’s a short flight and I could sometimes try catching fish or other animals that came here to drink. And I liked swimming.”

He approached the edge of the water and slipped his shoes off. There was a bit of a ledge, so he perched himself on it and let his feet dangle in the water. He tilted his head at you, indicating you to join him, so you did so.

The water was bitingly cold and you pulled your feet back. Davrakoss laughed at your startled squeak. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it’d be so cold for humans.” He exhaled a small gout of flame toward the water. “Did that help?”

It was barely warmer, but it was tolerable, so you settled next to him. His tail curled around your waist.

“You’re still sure about the decision you made yesterday?” you asked after a few moments of silence.

“I thought we just came here to relax,” Davrakoss said. He’d had his eyes closed, but one of them opened to a slit so he would look at you.

“I am relaxing,” you said, swishing your legs through the water demonstratively. Davrakoss very slowly raised one of his eyebrows.

“Let’s not talk about being king,” he said. “I just want to ignore all that for a little bit.”

You looked down at the water. There were a few fish swimming curiously around your toes. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you don’t want to be king.”

Davrakoss tilted his head at you. “Well, I did say I didn’t want it,” he said.

“I know. But you never liked being ambassador, did you?”

“I didn’t hate it,” he said. “I don’t hate it. But politics are awful and I don’t particularly enjoy dealing with all that they entail. The idea of having to do that for the rest of my life is… unappealing.”

“So, not becoming king because of loving a human is less of an issue and more of a convenient excuse?” you said.

He lightly kicked your foot under the water. “It’s not an excuse. I would have taken the throne if necessary. But this isn’t as terrible a tragedy to me as you seem to think it is. I like being with you a lot more than working in politics.” He hesitated for a moment. “That is probably a bit of an understatement, actually.”

You took a deep breath and leaned your shoulder against his. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” He stood up and shrugged off the outer layer of his robe. Underneath it, he was wearing a thin white shift, similar to the one he slept in. You looked at him curiously. “What are you-”

He jumped, arcing into a graceful dive. Icy water splashed up and sprayed over you. You shrieked, scrambling back. Davrakoss’ head popped up and he grinned at you. “What was that for?” you said, bolting to your feet.

“I did say I didn’t want to talk about politics anymore,” he said. “I thought it would be a good way to get you off the topic.”

“By splashing me with freezing water,” you said, shaking yourself off. Davrakoss swam closer to the shore.

“Whatever works,” he said. “And it seems to have done so.” He swam until he was only waist deep in the water and wrung his hair out. You glanced at him and felt your face grow hot. The shift was thin and wasn’t leaving a whole lot to the imagination. If he came any further out of the water, you were probably going to see quite a lot.

“Are you going to join me?” he asked, running his fingers through his hair.

“The water’s cold,” you pointed out, but you approached the shoreline regardless.

“You are already wet,” Davrakoss pointed out, looking you over. “It can’t get much worse. And, if you come in the water, I could try to keep you warm.”

You tested the water again with your foot. It wasn’t as bad as you remembered, probably because you were already soaked. The clothes were heavy and a little uncomfortable once they were soaked and you might as well lay them out so they would dry. Slowly, you pulled off the outer layer and lay it on a rock that was in a shaft of sunlight. Davrakoss waited, watching as you approached the water. Slowly, you slipped into the cold lake.

Goosebumps lifted along your arms as you waded out toward Davrakoss. “Still cold,” you said, though you had stepped into some sunlight, which helped. Davrakoss moved toward you, loosely wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Despite the cold water, he still radiated heat.

Davrakoss moved further out into the water, using his tail as a rudder to swim. “I haven’t been swimming in a long time,” he said, floating on his back so he could look up at the sky.

“I was swimming as a kid,” you said, staying in the shallower end of the water. “It was a long time ago, though, and it was only in a shallow river.” Now that you were actually out in the water, you were staring to get nervous. You could move a bit through water, but you weren’t terribly strong at it and if something happened, you were pretty sure that you would be in trouble.

Davrakoss swam back toward you. “I can stay closer to you, if you want.”

You nodded. “I’m surprised that you know how to swim. I never thought wyverns would be good in the water.”

“We’re not amazing swimmers, but in the summer, it can be nice to take a brief dip. And I’ve found that it can be very relaxing.” He took your arm and gave a gentle tug. “Here. I can show you.”

You allowed him to pull you out a little further into the water. His hand moved to the small of your back and he lifted you a little bit, still supporting you. “Here.” One of his hands moved underneath your legs, supporting you.

The water lapped at your sides, but Davrakoss kept his hand on your back, preventing you from sinking. Your heartbeat sounded in your ears, slow and steady. The sky above you was an endless blue and you felt a little like you were falling into it.

Davrakoss stroked his hand over your forehead. “Peaceful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, a little dreamily. Davrakoss’ hand moved gently against your back, kneading the muscles.

Something brushed against your legs under the water and your sense of calm vanished as you very nearly jumped straight up out of the lake. “What the hell was that?” you yelped, clinging to Davrakoss.

“My tail,” he said, suppressing a laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You sagged against him and he wrapped his arms around you to keep you from sinking. “I think I’m done in the water for now.”

“All right,” Davrakoss said. He hefted you up into his arms and waded out of the water.

You lay on one of the nearby large, flat stones under a shaft of sunlight. It was warm and drove away the chill of the water. Davrakoss walked up onto the stone. It was hard to keep your eyes off the way that his shift clung to his chest, emphasizing the contours of his muscles. He lay down on his stomach next to you, folding his hands under his chin.

“I wish we could stay out here,” Davrakoss said after a few minutes.

“What, forever?”

Davrakoss closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. “Not here specifically. But it would be a lot easier to live out here, in a cavern like my parents, living without anyone to bother us.” He reached out and squeezed your hand. “Just the two of us.”

Your face warmed. For a moment, you could imagine it. Living out with Davrakoss, no more servant duties, no more having to suck up to nobles, no more having to worry about your position or money. Just the two of you. Living, just being together.

           But no. Obviously it couldn’t happen. How could it? Davrakoss had a job and a duty. It wasn’t practical. “That would be nice,” you said. “But I don’t think we can do it.”

           Davrakoss grimaced. “No. Probably not.” He grimaced. “Maybe after my sister is hatched, we can leave all of this behind.” He made a gesture in the vague direction of the kingdom. “She’ll take over and we can go do whatever we want.”

You moved closer, letting your head rest on his shoulder. His tail lay over your back. You curled up together, shivering in the slight breeze, but warmed by each other’s presence.

You dozed off for a little while, stirring only when Davrakoss got up. “Where are you going?” you mumbled.

“I’m just getting something to eat. I’ll bring something back for you.” He stroked your partially-dry hair and you heard the rush of him taking off a few moments later.

Once roused, you couldn’t fall back asleep. You sat up, staring out over the lake.

You wanted to think about your future with Davrakoss, you really did. But there was something still bothering you. He was willing to stay with you for as long as you lived, but you weren’t going to live as long as he would.

The more you thought about it, the more it worried you. You were going to age faster than he was. He couldn’t spend more than a third of his life with you. And he was making a lot of decisions that were for you. Was he really thinking about the fact that you weren’t going to be around for as long as he was?

There was the noise of rushing wings above you and you looked up as Davrakoss came to a careful landing. There was a carefully cleaned and roasted carcass hanging from his jaws. As he landed, he snapped off an appropriately-sized section of meat and offered it to you.

“Thanks,” you said, accepting it. You were going to need something other than meat soon. There were probably edible plants in the woods. Maybe you could go looking for them a little later.

Davrakoss shifted back to his human form and sat down next to you. “Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?” he said, peering into your face. “You have that sort of expression.”

“It’s nothing,” you said. “I thought we were supposed to be relaxing.”

“Maybe it will help you relax if you talk about it.” He picked up a charred hunk of meat and bit into it.

You sighed. “I was thinking about our lifespans again.”

Davrakoss’ expression soured. He put down the meat. “Oh.” He looked at you. “I know you have concerns, but I would much rather spend a third of my life with you than be king for all of it-”

“That’s not exactly what I was talking about,” you said. Davrakoss fell silent, looking at you expectantly. “It’s just… You’re sure you’re going to be okay? I mean… You told me once that wyverns don’t really… fall in love that often.”

“More often than not, we mate for life,” he said. “It’s difficult to find another once we’ve already chosen.”

You tapped your finger against the ground. “And you’re all right with that? It’s a long time to be… without anyone. I don’t want you to be lonely.”

Davrakoss let out a little laugh. “Oh, darling, it’s a little too late for that. You already have me. I’m not going to be able to just pick out someone else.” He gave you a look that was both adoring and somewhat sad. “I’m a bit stuck to you now.”

“And you’re all right with that?”

Davrakoss thought for a few moments, hands folded in his lap. “It depends on your definition of all right,” he said finally. “I’m not happy about it. I’ve been trying not to think about it, honestly. Because when I realize that you aren’t going to be around for most of my life I-” He choked off and rubbed at his eyes “But that’s not a reason to try and stop now. I want more time with you, not less. And who knows.” He gave a little shrug. “Perhaps we’ll find a solution.”

“A solution to death?” you asked. “I don’t think that’s likely.”

“You never really know,” Davrakoss said. “It might happen.” He didn’t look convinced. “I want to be with you. For as long as I can be.”

“I love you too,” you said. You leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. He smelled a little smoky, an oddly pleasant smell.

You finished eating and gathered your clothes again. “We should probably return home,” Davrakoss said. “My parents will be wanting to speak again.” He sighed, but gave you a smile. “I’m glad we had this time together.”

“I am too,” you said. “It was nice. I haven’t done a lot of stuff like that before.”

Davrakoss tugged his robes back on, looking thoughtful. “Then we’ll have to do it more often.”

He shifted into his wyvern form and you climbed up onto his back. His scales glittered in the sunlight as he took off. You relaxed into his back, feeling the smooth motion of his scales as he soared back to his cave.

His mother was waiting for you at the entrance when you arrived. Davrakoss landed in front of her, head lowered in an expression of deference. “You’ve returned,” she said. “Good. I would like to hear your decision on the throne.”

Davrakoss lifted his head, looked his mother in her eyes. “I’m abdicating.”

His mother didn’t look surprised. She lowered her head slightly. “I see. Then come along. We have much to discuss.”