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remnantoforario · 4 years ago

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Remnant’s Top Ten Anime of 2020

2020 Was certainly a ride wasn’t it? To those that managed to make to make it through in one piece, or any piece, good job. Hopefully 2021 is better to us all.

Despite the world mostly being on fire, I’d hazard to say that a lot of good shows came out in 2020 (despite a number of them being delayed to either later in the year or this year altogether). I meant to release this list much earlier, but I kept changing it around.

Anyway, here are the ones I thought were the best.

Honorable Mentions:

Dorohedoro

Synopsis: The plot centers on a man named Caiman and his search for his real identity after a transformation by a sorcerer left him with a reptile's head and no memory of his former life.

Along with his friend Nikaido, he violently assaults sorcerers in the Hole, with the aim of taking their heads into his mouth, where a strange face will appear and confirm whether the sorcerer he has bitten onto was the one responsible for his transformation or not.

As the residents of the Hole, the En family and the Cross-Eyes gang, along with many others, collide with one another, the mystery of Caiman's identity begins to unravel, reigniting ancient grudges and threatening to forever change both the Hole and the sorcerers' world.

Thoughts: This is the only Netflix anime I watched this year (I missed out on Great Pretender before the year ended), and I can honestly say I had fun with this one. It’s animation was good, the story was engaging enough, and the characters were all unique (Noi best girl). The one problem I would say with the show is that it can come off as unfocused at times, meandering from one plaot point to another with no real connective tissue.

Still a fun series though.

ID: Invaded

Synopsis: The anime follows the investigations of Narihisago, a renowned detective now in prison, who is tasked with diving into the id wells of various serial killers.

Two years prior to the current events, Narihisago's daughter Muku was brutally murdered by a serial killer, leading Narihisago's wife to commit suicide. These deaths prompted him to hunt down and murder the killer, earning him his prison sentence. He is still depressed and haunted by his wife and daughter's deaths, but also uses this as motivation to take his work seriously and help stop serial killers.

Thoughts: One of a handful of original series that came out this year. This show gave me heavy Inception/Minority Report vibes from both its premise and presentation. It wobbles under the weight of its own concepts towards the end, but it still a fun ride nonetheless.

Gleipnir

Synopsis: The story centers on Shuichi Kagaya, a high school student with an unusual secret. He has the ability to transform into a monster resembling a giant dog mascot costume with a zipper down his back and a large cartoonish smile. After rescuing a strange girl, Claire Aoki, from a warehouse fire, they join each other to search for Claire's older sister, who is assumed to be responsible for the death of their parents.

Thoughts: When the initial rollout for this show began I admit I wasn’t really a fan. I thought it was just going to be a hyper violent, fanservice show. Now in some ways it is that, but if you really look Gleipnir tells a very interesting tale of identity and what it truly means to have a wish granted. The music was pretty good as well, and that’s really something from me as a person who doesn’t pay attention to soundtracks.

Hope this show gets a season 2, but if not I’ll more than likely start the manga.

Wandering Witch: The Journey of Elaina

Synopsis: Fascinated by the stories of Niké, a witch who traveled around the world, Elaina aspires to take the same course. Her determination of studying books and magic leads to her becoming the youngest apprentice witch to pass the sorcery exam.

However, when Elaina attempts to receive training in order to become a full-fledged witch, she is rejected due to her extraordinary talents until she finds Fran, the "Stardust Witch," whom accepts her. After earning her title, the "Ashen Witch," Elaina begins her exploration around the world, visiting and facing all kinds of people and places.

Thoughts: As a fan of the Light Novels, I was pretty excited when it was announced it was getting an anime. For the most part it didn’t disappoint. Though it skipped most of the stories in the novels, the show still told a few good stories that made for some amazingly animated tv.

Talentless Nana

Synposis: In the near future, mysterious monsters known as the "Enemies of Humanity" begin to appear, and with it so do children with supernatural powers called the "Talented". To prepare them for the upcoming battle against these Enemies, all the Talented are sent to a school located on a deserted island, where they have all their daily needs provided for until they graduate and communication with the outside world is forbidden.

One day, a new student named Nana Hiiragi arrives at the school. Her friendly and cheerful personality lets her quickly make friends with the class. However, with Nana comes a whole litany of mysterious occurrences on the island.

Thoughts: I can’t say too much about Nana without spoiling it’s first episode twist, but I will say that its a pretty interesting show with a fairly compelling game of cat and mouse being played.

Now on the the actual list:

10. The Misfit of Demon King Academy

Synopsis: After 2,000 years of countless wars and strife, the demon king Anos Voldigoad made a deal with the human hero, Kanon, to sacrifice his own life to ensure peace could flourish. Reincarnating 2,000 years later, Anos finds that royal demons now harshly rule over lower class hybrid demons in a society that values Anos's pureblood descendants over the demons who interbred with other species, such as humans and spirits.

Finding that magic as a whole has begun to decline and his descendants weaker as a result of the peace he created, Anos, now technically a hybrid himself, decides to reclaim his former title of Demon King, but first, he must graduate from the Demon King Academy where he is labeled a total misfit.

Thoughts: Originally I was going to put Nana in this spot, but its lack of a real ending pushed it out of the list. If only slightly. Misft at Demon Academy is just a fun ride from start to finish. There’s always something about shows with ridiculous OP protagonists (Overlord, One Punch Man, etc.) that gets the blood pumping.

It’s like junk food. Great for the right moment, but not needed all the time.

9. Ikebukuro West Gate Park

Synopsis: A charismatic troubleshooter tries to keep the peace between warring factions while protecting his loved ones in Ikebukuro West Gate Park.

Thoughts: I honestly had no idea what to make of this show when I first saw the synopsis, but I gave it a try on a whim. I’m glad I did because this was easily the dark horse of the Fall season. I really liked the mostly self contained story format the series had, and there were a few very good episodes here. Check it out.

8. My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!

Synopsis: Catarina Claes, the young daughter of a noble family, one day bumps her head and regains memories of her past life as an otaku. It is then that she realizes she has been reborn into the world of the otome game Fortune Lover, reincarnated as the game's villainess who, regardless of what route the player took in the original game, is doomed to be either killed or exiled.

In order to avoid these routes that lead to doom, Catarina begins taking countermeasures to try and avoid things going the same way as the game. This, however, ends up having unexpected consequences on her relations with the other characters of the game's world.

Thoughts: Normally I’m not a fan of Reverse/Otome harem series, but somehow Bakarina managed to pull me in, to a good result. This show was easily one of the best comedies I watched this year with a good cast and a likable protagonist.

7. Deca-Dence

Synopsis: In the fortress city of Deca-dence, the lowly Tanker girl, Natsume, dreams of becoming a Gear warrior following her father's death during a Gadoll attack. She is assigned to a maintenance team led by Kaburagi whom she discovers is more than he appears. Kaburagi has a secret role in eliminating "bugs", humans who threaten Solid Quake's operations.

When Kaburagi discovers that Natsume is listed as dead in the company database, he decides to keep her under observation and offers to train her to fight.

Thoughts: Giant monsters and giant robots. What more do you need? Watch it.

6. A Certain Scientific Railgun T

Synposis: The Daihasei Festival has begun, and that of course means that Tokiwadai Middle School—a prestigious all-girls' middle school—is competing too. Despite the participation of the "Ace of Tokiwadai," Mikoto Misaka, the other students who are participating are still putting their utmost effort into winning, no matter how impossible the feat may seem against her might. However, not all is fun and games. Due to the the festival, Academy City opens to the outside world, and various factions have begun plotting ways to infiltrate the city. Misaka appears to be on their radar, and as the festival proceeds, people lurking from the shadows begin to emerge...

Thoughts: Not really much to say here. It’s the third season of Railgun, but good thing here is that each season of Railgun is better than the last. Truly the best of the To Aru universe.

5. BOFURI: I Don't Want to Get Hurt, so I'll Max Out My Defense.

Synposis: Urged on by her friend, Kaede Honjō begins playing the VRMMORPG NewWorld Online under the name Maple. Not wanting to get hurt, Maple opts to be a shield user with maxed out defense stats, and continues putting every status point she earns in the game into increasing only her defense level.

As a result, she is left with slow foot speed and no magic, but her high defense allows her to endure most hits without taking any damage. This, along with her basic-level creative thinking, allows for her to make unexpected accomplishments in the game, its quests and events. By doing this, she ends up earning all kinds of equally unexpected skills and becomes one of the strongest players in the game. Thoughts: Bofuri is another OP power fantasy like Demon King Academy, but with the twist of being fused with CGDCT. The cast is extremely likable (especially Maple) and when Silver Link wants to they can make the battles REALLY dynamic. A nice comfortable watch, which was sorely needed in 2020.

4. Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle

Synposis: The story follows Princess Syalis, a young princess who was kidnapped by the demon king, and her quest to sleep well while imprisoned.

Thoughts: A simple premise for a not so simple story. Sleepy Princess for me was easily the best comedy of the year, with plenty of heart and action thrown in as well. I was wary of the series at first, thinking that the premise wouldnt be entertaining for more than a few episodes, but boy was I wrong. Each episode was funnier than the last and Doga Kobo pulled out all the stops to make it look as gorgeous as possible.

3. Jujutsu Kaisen

Synopsis: Idly indulging in baseless paranormal activities with the Occult Club, high schooler Yuuji Itadori spends his days at either the clubroom or the hospital, where he visits his bedridden grandfather. However, this leisurely lifestyle soon takes a turn for the strange when he unknowingly encounters a cursed item. Triggering a chain of supernatural occurrences, Yuuji finds himself suddenly thrust into the world of Curses—dreadful beings formed from human malice and negativity—after swallowing the said item, revealed to be a finger belonging to the demon Sukuna Ryoumen, the "King of Curses." Yuuji experiences first-hand the threat these Curses pose to society as he discovers his own newfound powers. Introduced to the Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School, he begins to walk down a path from which he cannot return—the path of a Jujutsu sorcerer.

Thoughts: Originally I wasn’t going to put this on the list, because the season doesnt conclude this year, but I decided to make an exception since the show started so strong. Many people were hyping this up as the next big shonen, and they were right. Mappa really went balls to the wall with this show and I’m pretty hype for what happens this cour.

2. Akudama Drive

Synopsis: The bustling metropolis of Kansai, where cybernetic screens litter the neon landscape, may seem like a technological utopia at first glance. But in the dark alleys around the brightly-lit buildings, an unforgiving criminal underbelly still exists in the form of fugitives known as "Akudama." No stranger to these individuals, Kansai police begin the countdown to the public execution of an infamous Akudama "Cutthroat," guilty of killing 999 people. However, a mysterious message is sent to several elite Akudama, enlisting them to free Cutthroat for a substantial amount of money. An invisible hand seeks to gather these dangerous personas in one place, ensuring that the execution is well underway to becoming a full-blown bloodbath.

Thoughts: Want to know what it would be like if Quentin Tarantino made an anime? Well here you go. An adrenaline filled rollercoaster ride from start to finish with a crazy cast of characters and even crazier visuals. There’s even a bit of social commentary in there if you squint.

1. Oregairu Climax

Synopsis: Resolved to become a more independent person, Yukino Yukinoshita decides to smoothen things out with her parents, and the first step toward achieving that goal is to prove herself. As graduation draws closer for the third-year students, Iroha Isshiki—the president of the student council—requests a graduation prom in collaboration with the Volunteer Service Club. Yukino accepts this request of her own volition, hoping to use it as a chance to demonstrate her self-reliance, but what lies ahead of her may prove to be a hard hurdle to cross.

At the same time, a chance for the Volunteer Service Club members to better understand each other presents itself. And thus, Hachiman Hikigaya's hectic and bittersweet high school life begins to draw to a close.

Thoughts: The gif says it all really. I could just leave that there and end this list on a somewhat high note, but I’ll explain it.

Now objectively, there were better shows than this one (off the top of my head JJK comes to mind) but when you combine all three seasons there is no contest in my mind that Oregairu had one of the most perfect endings to a series I have ever seen.

It was an ending 7 years in the making. The first season in 2013 was good, the second season two years later was even better, but Climax was Oregairu at is absolute best and that goes beyond the story and characters. A lot of praise also has to go to Studio feel., who took over animation duties from Brain’s Base in season 2. While BB’s animation was much more accurate to the LN, feel’s more realistic designs fit the more mature direction the story was starting to go, giving the anime some of its best moments.

Watching Hachiman, Yukino, and Yui grow and change from naive teenagers to somewhat understood young adults was amazing and sometimes heartbreaking to watch. Hachiman’s search to find something “genuine”, Yukino’s desire to be independent, and Yui struggling with her feelings of love and friendship all clash and compliment in very interesting ways that makes these three characters even more relatable than they were before.

Lots of long running series don’t stick to landing, but in my eyes Oregairu stuck it perfectly. That’s why its my favorite anime of 2020.

Here’s to 2021.

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mallowstep · 3 years ago

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I'd love to hear some ✨StarClan Slander✨ from you

starclan fucking sucks and i'm not afraid to say it.

ugh. where to begin.

okay, starclan sucks in a lot of different ways. like, a lot. it sucks from a narrative perspective, it sucks from a lives-of-cats perpsective, and it sucks from a worldbuilding perspective.

like: starclan is incredibly inconsistent as worldbuilding. it. gah. that part is most in my control when i write, so i try to really like. maximize said control. but if you compare the description of fireheart getting his nine lives to any modern starclan scene, it pisses me off. starclan is so fucking Cool, and now it's not.

i could go on for a while, but it's more of the same.

and then from a narrative perspective like. it causes so many problems. and i don't mean starclan causes problems for the characters, i mean starclan is simultaneously the cause of a lot of problems while the narrative wants us to believe they are the good guys. starclan causing problems? interesting. starclan causing problems but they're Very Good Actually? lazy.

this is a small thing but like it bothered in tbc? okay so. the fact that the clans' relationship to starclan has changed doesn't bother me. it's really interesting. they've been through this time of massive upheaval, something which often correlates with this uptick in spirituality.

i do not need convincing to believe that as the clans have gone through these past ten or fifteen years, with an exodus and the whole great battle (even setting aside the religious implications and just focusing on: big battle, lots of betrayal, lots of death), and everything with skyclan and darktail, yeah!

like, there was a spiritualism wave in the us after the civil war because that's what people/humanized cats do in those times. they latch on to spirituality and religion. why do you think witchcraft is on an uptick again in modern times?

however the problem is the Narrative never acknowledges this, which makes it feel not like an intentional culture change but authors being lazy. i'm not sure what's worse: authors just leaning on starclan because it's interesting and easy, or authors simply failing to convey the nuances of culture change.

whichever makes the erins sound better, pick that one. i have no lost love for them, but i try to keep my criticisms factual.

anyway, i digress, here's my favourite example:

in tbc, it's this Big Deal how the moonpool is the place of the medicine cats, and other cats cannot enter, Nope No Sir, which, like, really fucking confused me.

what?

do leaders not speak with starclan anymore? is that. is that not a thing?

i mean, in tpb, leaders visit the moonstone all the time. apprentices visit it before coming warriors. it's pretty normal.

and i'm fine with the culture of the clans changing for the moonpool to be a medicine cat exclusive: that does not fundamentally bother me. there's even the smallest nod to this idea in po3, during outcast, when they mention that the tradition of going to the moonstone/pool has fallen out of favour, and maybe that's bad.

and like, yeah, okay: i don't really understand Why it fell out of favour, especially in thunderclan. thunderclan had the Longest journey to the moonstone, and now they have either the shortest journey or one of the shortest, so there's really no excuse, but like. that's diaspora, you lose things, i'm okay with that.

what i'm not okay with is the sudden transformation of the moonpool to a Holy Place only Medicine Cats can touch. like, mothwing has been to the moonstone: she knows this isn't how it was. the others are young enough to not know, but then, when did this idea get started? who put it in their heads? why?

jayfeather has had so much pov, it wouldn't be hard to explain. he could've even taught alderpaw about it. or something could've been slipped into an early shadowpaw chapter. it really would not have taken much: a single line in outcast or something was all i needed to accept the moonstone/pool visitation tradition was dead (even if i think it should've continued), but unless i've forgotten, this is just. never explained.

this is how it Always Was (even though it wasn't, and there are cats who should Know it wasn't).

heck! heck! mistystar shared tongues with starclan in her novella. i don't remember where riverclan was during this scene in tbc, but my point is more. someone should've been able to say something. anything.

probably before the actual scene, given how few cats would know about this: bramblestar should since he was made a warrior in the forest territory, but i'll give the other leaders a pass. all i need is like. one line. from one cat. that's it. that's all i need.

finally, starclan obviously is uhhh. evil? it's evil, right, we can all agree? there is no evil starclan au we're In the evil starclan au, i should write a good starclan au.

the thing about this one is like. it's a product of the others. if starclan wasn't Real and Tangible, then like. then like. it wouldn't matter that they gave shitty advice and did terrible things, because now you just have cats dreaming of others, searching for answers in the Strict Code, and that would all make sense.

(did that paragraph like. read? i can't tell. basically, if starclan wasn't confirmed as a real thing with real dead cats, i would be fine with starclan cats being shitty and ooc, because now it's not actual cats we know and love, it's other cats' perceptions, memories, and inferences of them as they search their ancestors for guidance from the warrior code.

so of course their advice is going to be terrible and inconsistent and leafpool is going to decide spottedleaf said she should have kits and then starclan is going to backflip when the kits are born: all of that makes complete sense as long as starclan isn't an actual place. as long as it's just religion, just dreams and omens, there is no problem with that.)

and then if starclan like. if their role in the clans had been covered more thoroughly by the narrative. if how they gave shitty advice a lot was covered. i would also be okay with it.

but the best we get is mothwing's whole "yo uh. starclan doesn't save cats. i save fucking cats. give me my god damn credit for saving your fucking life." like that's a bad thing no. mothwing. queen. please continue ur so right.

and just as a cherry on top, the ableism in starclan is exhausting. it's its own thing, really, but like. i was talking with @foxstride about this. and like. how disabled cats will just have their disabilities erased.

personally, i'm okay with briarlight not being disabled in starclan. i think that makes sense for her character. i think it is Bad that the narrative's response to that was "now that she's dead she's finally happy again!", it should have been "thunderclan failed to give briarlight the actual support she needed to be happy", but the fact that she's not disabled in starclan doesn't actually bother me.

she was sick basically 100% of the time after her accident, and thunderclan was really shitty to her. do you remember how happy she was to "get" to sleep in the warriors' den? she was a fucking warrior that was her right.

thunderclan failed her, but the takeaway is "she couldn't be happy until she was dead and her disability was magicked away." that's bad. that's. i'm not okay with that part of it.

(briarlight deserves so much better than thunderclan.)

but for pretty much every other instance of it, there's none of that. maybe, maybe, you could make a similar argument for cinderpelt, but i would disagree with it.

my cinderpelt opinion is and always has been: she would never have chosen the path of being a medicine cat for herself, but she ultimately finds happiness and fulfillment with it. like, it wasn't right that she was forced to become a medicine cat because of her accident, but it was something she did ultimately enjoy and was happy to dedicate her life to. if she was given the chance to become a warrior after she had been a medicine cat for a while, she wouldn't have taken it.

it's part of why when i'm doing like. big time aus for warriors i still make her a medicine cat. because i like her growing to love it. i like that it's not right, how it happens, but she still loves it eventually. it's a very interesting idea to me that there aren't many characters to explore it through. jayfeather and alderheart are similar, but not in the same way. anyway i'm rambling because these are all the things i thought about when writing stolag, back on topic.

so i don't think cinderpelt should have her disability poofed by starclan, i think she should keep it. i also think that cats who are injured and then aren't disabiled in starclan should be representitve of that. they should be the age before they got injured.

briarlight should be apprentice aged, a hypo-cinderpelt should also be apprentice aged. this is something i'm fine with. i make hollyleaf apprentice aged in starclan because i think she was happiest before the ending of po3.

moving on: snowkit? can apparently hear? wtf?

and y'all already know how much i hate that jayfeather can see in his dreams. i said No that's Not Canon anymore and no one (no one) can stop me.

in conclusion: starclan is bad in a lot of ways, and if it weren't so damn inconsistently bad, i think i wouldn't hate it half as much.

#ask #essay #starclan #anon #long #mine #txt

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writerfangirlbooks · 4 years ago

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You-Know-Who

Crowley x Reader

Prompt: You sold your soul, but continued to be human after ten years due to helping around Hell and being Crowley's assistant. You fell for each other, and boom came the rise of Lucifer, who forced you to be his new toy and assistant.

Originally a two-parter on my Wattpad book but condensed for one here!

Word Count: basically 4000.

Credit to gif owner!

"Won't you ride my white horse? What kind of bloody garbage is this?" Crowley demanded, his red eyes glowing hauntingly in the motel room. The only light was the sun that seeped through the blinds of the scratched windows. You had seen Crowley angry, of course, but he appeared ten times worse now. He was livid... and frightened.

"I don't know, Crowley," you responded, a bit of an edge weaseled its way into your voice. "He just gave me the papers to deliver to you."

You rubbed the side of your temple, exhausted. Lucifer had you working just less than twenty four hours a day. You were only human and needed sleep. Crowley noticed and his eyes flashed back to normal, softening instantly. He nodded and scanned through the packet again.

You knew the two of you were an odd pair; you sold your soul at twenty because you had lost almost all despair once your cat Marney died - she was the last family you had. You had been visiting a friend with Marney at fifteen when your parents and brother all died in a car wreck. So you found a demon and made your ten year deal, demanding and receiving your cat back. Once you died, you met the King of Hell to determine your fate. He thought your story was stupid, so he wanted to teach you a lesson and hired you to be his assistant, while also giving you your life back. A couple years passed, and you had fallen for Crowley.

Here you two were again, supposed to be on opposite sides. Crowley was on the run after Lucifer rose, decapitated his mother, took his throne, and forced you to be by his side. Of course you had tried to escape, with and without your lover's help, but Lucifer had managed to find your soul and kept a leash on it. You went where he went unless he summoned you to do his bidding. And his latest order just happened to be to find Crowley and deliver the letter, without knowing the intimate connection the two of you shared.

"This is practically written in gibberish. Look at this." He flipped to the third page and you were expecting something completely different. Your fingers touched as you held the papers, trying to decipher a code. However, you quickly realized you recognized the words.

"Crowley," you released a small, genuine laugh, the first one in at least a month. "This is a song, from a few years ago, by Ozzy Osborne. It's called Mr. Crowley. It's supposed to be in the biblical sense. I don't know why he would give this to you. It doesn't seem threatening."

You both held the lyrics into the light to get a better look.

"Maybe not. But a song? Are you sure? About me? Why in Purgatory would someone do that, biblical or not?" Crowley asked, seeming flabbergasted, though more calm. His eyes danced to yours.

You smiled at him, glad for the few minutes to spend together. You didn't know when Lucifer would call you back. You knew that once he found out about your relationship, he would never allow you to be the one to communicate with Crowley again.

"There's a lot of things in Ozzy's mind that I'm not sure about. Look, I know we aren't going to have much time today. He's been driv-" You were interrupted.

"He as in Lucifer?" Crowley asked for confirmation, setting the papers on the tangled and messy bed, though it wasn't like that when you first came in.

You gasped, wanting to smack your forehead. How could you not have told him! Crowley heard and turned towards you, curious of your reaction.

"Don't say his name! He can hear!" You started freaking out by breathing rapidly and shaking your hands wildly. Crowley immediately took your hands to calm you. He engulfed you in a hug. This wasn't something Crowley normally did. During the day, he wasn't a very physical person, but he knew you needed comfort.

"Y/N, don't worry. It's alright. You are safe for now," Crowley assured you. You took a breath and nodded into his shoulder. When you were certain that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was not going to be in the motel room momentarily, you stepped away. You prayed that he wouldn't hear, but knew that wouldn't work. God had been incognito for years.

"Pull yourself together. You know we don't have much time. Don't try to figure out the song right now. I'll worry about that later, darling. Y/N, tell me what he's been up to. Has Lu- has he hurt you?" Crowley asked, setting you down on the edge of the bed.

Lucifer was the devil. He would hurt, maim, kill, torture. He would do anything to get what he wants. He had hurt you no less than five times within the week so far. Mostly minor cuts, except for when Lucifer almost slit your throat when the waiter at Starbucks gave you the wrong type of coffee. He was a bit high maintenance. Then there were the times he had shoved his tongue down your throat and you looked at your knees.

"Nothing that can't be fixed with time." You tried to sound brave, but Crowley could see right through you. You could feel his protectiveness enter the room as he sat next to you, taking your hand. It would usually make you smile, seeing the one drop of humanity left in him, considering it was always directed to you. Now, you wished it weren't there. The Crowley you first met wouldn't have pity on you.

"What did that damned devil do to you?" Crowley asked, his fingers tightening in yours.

Instead of his usual suit, the former King of Hell wore a pair of dark jeans, khaki button down, and boots. You were in nothing better, torn jeans, old Converse, a tank top under a high school sweatshirt. It was what you were wearing when Lucifer rose from Hell and took you. You had been able to wash the outfit and yourself only three times so far with your little spare time.

You leaned the top of your head onto his shoulder, thinking of what the right answer should be. You had barely begun to speak when your eyes started to water. Your stomach churned. If you weren't already sitting, your knees would have buckled. There was only one person that could emit so much terror into a person.

"Crowley, run." You barely squeaked out with a low grunt, clutching his hand.

Even if he had had time, you knew he wouldn't have disappeared. Not without you, and the both of you knew Lucifer could find you quicker than he could snap his fingers. There he was. The powerful entity stood casually in the center of the room, arms crossed impatiently. His eyes were dark, yet somehow playful. His pout was anything but sympathetic. It stood more along the lines of a cruel sneer.

"Well, what's going on here?" He feigned thoughtfulness before bursting into a surprised I-Know-Now face. "Oh! Let me take a guess. You two were planning to run off! I probably should have seen this sooner, but I never really imagined that Y/N would stoop to an ex-crossroads demon. What a surprise! Now, I suppose I'll have to make an actual demon do my deals... Y/N, sweetie, you were doing great. I'll keep you, but for something else entirely."

You wanted to puke. Your cheeks were bright red. You felt nauseous. Just your everyday feelings next to just Lucifer. When he spoke, all attention was drawn to him. Not only did he crave it, but it was natural. He was a warrior angel. He was absolutely ruthless.

"If you think you can lay one measly-" Crowley began speaking, furious and fast. He immediately stood up from the bed. You remained there for a second longer, staring up at the one you loved, knowing this would be one of the last times you would see him in a long time. Finally, you stood, knowing hope has all but slapped you in the face.

"You can't stop me, Crowley," Lucifer said, his voice lowered, almost soothing. "And neither can you, Y/N. Hell's not the most entertaining, but it will work for now."

He eyed the two of you, your fingers itching to wrap around Crowley's. The tension grew as chills ran up your arms, which was soon replaced by a burning heat. You staggered back a step with wide eyes. The sensation began at your finger tips, making it way slowly and menacingly up your arms, down your torso, and swiveled around the bottom half of your body. You released a groan as it hit your pelvis and stumbled into the nightstand. You felt a shadow cross over your front protectively. Your vision was starting to fade. Your head throbbed as it landed harsh against thin weaves of string, somehow formed into carpet.

"What have you done," hissed Crowley. As your vision blurred, the last thing you remembered was seeing the former King of Hell, the last person you loved, standing above you.

<->

When you came to, you were on the bed again. You felt sore all over. Finally, you recalled the latest turn of events, which were not pleasant ones. Except for the last that you remember. Crowley.

His name prompted you to sit upwards, which was a horrible idea. Your headache was still there and more painful than it had been. You let your head fall back against the pillow and groaned. This was not going to work.

"Y/N? Darling, are you awake?" A British voice rang out.

"Mhm," you mumbled, still trying to sit up. You felt a cold hand move into yours, which was surprisingly sweaty. You blinked twice, still dazed. Crowley hovered over you.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" His voice came out, low, almost nervous. He looked at you for barely a second. Immediately, you felt that something was off.

"I feel fine, actually." You mustered up a convincing smile. "What happened?"

"Well, Lucifer was strangling you. I attacked him and he evaporated, leaving you," he announced simply.

"Really?" You slowly got out of the small motel bed. You sensed you were being watched, so you knew you had to be careful, and get Crowley back as soon as possible. As terrifying as it would be to know the truth, you needed it to form your plan.

"O-of course, darling. Why would I lie to you?" He stuttered. You turned to look and 'Crowley' flashed you a smile, one that you have never identified, but was still vaguely familiar on an opposite body.

"I know you wouldn't," you said sweetly. "Let me just get changed first."

"That's not necessary. We need to leave soon, before Lucifer catches up." Your suspicions grew more and more, almost turning to pure certainty with each dreaded word.

"I'm sure we have time," you replied nonchalantly, turning away as you tossed your sweatshirt and tank top over your head at once.

Hearing a quick intake of breath behind you, your heart rate increased. You deliberately turned so he could see your chest - what wasn't covered by the dirty bra. You opened the closet door, pretending to contemplate what to wear, when you were actually thinking of the easiest plan to threaten the devil.

However, you didn't hear him come up behind you.

You had been almost completely naked in front of the literal devil. Just another Tuesday. You felt bile in your throat as you took your time. Knowing that that particular vessel was Crowley's favorite, you wanted to save it for him. If he was even still alive.

Once you finished changing clothes, you stared into the closet for a minute longer, staring at your two knives. You couldn't go back to Hell without your king. Not only would the demons tear at you, so would Lucifer, in a much crueler manner. You had never been in the hunting life. You had no experience, just what Crowley taught you.

"You almost ready to go, sweetheart?" He couldn't be called a man. There wasn't a word to describe him. Just Devil. His voice spoke, using the voice you loved; the voice you listen to for hours; the voice that listened to you; the voice that was now possessed by Satan.

You wanted to catch him off guard. You knew Crowley's mannerisms, and saying sweetheart was not one of them. It belonged to someone else. Someone, whose heart was anything but sweet.

"What'd you say?" You tried sounding nonchalant, as if you had just not heard him speak. You felt slightly better now that you changed into cleaner, more presentable clothes, despite the nauseous feeling in your stomach.

"I asked if you were almost ready to leave, darling." Lucifer's voice was rougher than Crowley's. He didn't even try to sound appreciative, or like he actually cared about you. The way he used the true King of Hell's nickname for you ensured your hatred for him.

You walked over to him, as if nothing could possibly be wrong. You presented a sweet smile and set a hand on his shoulder, which was very stiff. You swallowed down bile and leaned up and kissed his cheek. "I just need a minute."

You had stepped away to grab your stuff, but a hand wrapped tightly around your wrists and pulled you back to him. You stared at the vessel, becoming frightened. Lucifer looked back, no emotion seeping through, before slamming his current meat suit's lips against yours, biting down. You nearly fell back from the force as his tongue entered your mouth. Damn, you would have loved to throw up right then - and proceed to run for your life.

"S-stop," you muttered, trying to tug away. One hand was gripped firmly where it was twenty seconds ago, creating a bruise. The other was creating another elsewhere - on the sensitive part of your waist, right on your hips. You could try to kick Lucifer, but you knew the way that vessel worked, so you also knew it wouldn't be easy to injure him without something major.

He continued to kiss you, roughly and passionless. You struggled to get away, murmuring for him to end whatever this was. His eyes darkened as you preceded to break away. You feared for the time he would continue to pretend to be Crowley. You were terrified now, that you wouldn't be strong enough. To save yourself. To get Crowley back.

"You can't tell me no," he said, his voice incredibly deep.

You hated yourself for not being able to out him, but you knew when you did you would surely be killed, and that death would be slow and dragged out, unlike the HellHound when they took you. You had to feign such ignorance, as if you would not be able to tell who Crowley is.

"C-Crowley. S-stop it, p-please." You cast your eyes down, stuttering for effect, as you stumbled away from Lucifer.

"P-p-please! C-Crowley! Oh, give me a break, would you, Y/N? This is too good!" Lucifer was laughing incredibly loud, and it appeared mocking was his go-to stance, as his voice returned to his own and true one. You were nearly trembling all over, too afraid to even close your eyes.

Instead of trying to think of a witty comeback or trying to get a weapon, you swiftly moved your hand out of his and punched him in the nose, before taking off. You swung open the door and started screaming, "FIRE!", as you ran as fast as you managed down the stairs, hearing people exit their own rooms.

"Y/N!" You heard your name screamed from the second floor, as you were nearly outside. People began to flood around you, unaware to the fact that there was no fire. Panting, you looked both ways before sprinting across the street, making your way to the one place you knew. An entrance to Hell.

< - >

The door was locked in the abandoned warehouse. You went around to the back, finding a smashed beer bottle and making a slit down your wrist and smearing it on the door knob. A trickle slipped into the keyhole and unlocked it. You opened the door to find darkness. Sliding your hand against the door, you flipped on the light switch and locked the door behind you.

Your eyes first identified the wooden shelves laced with traps, poisons, spell books, and notebooks. You stepped in, the door shutting and locking behind you. Taking a breath, you scammed for any threats before deciding you had found sanctuary. Still, there was no Crowley.

Looking around, you made your way into the hallway, searching the rooms. The first was the only room with internet access, along with the only computer, that was new... back in the nineties. You stopped in the entrance to the bedroom further back, examining the silky black sheets that looked as if they had never been used. They had, of course.

Recalling the only time you've ever been here, you sat in the middle of the floor, daydreaming now that you were finally away from the literal devil who was trying to kill you and may have possibly murdered the King of Hell, your boyfriend, though you didn't use labels.

This was your third mission away from Hell, within four months. Mr. Crowley had just turned you back to human about two weeks before. You had forgotten quite a bit, especially the sweet, thick smell of the air in fall, as the leaves began to change colors and it gets chillier, something you hadn't noticed in your three months as a demon.

Your boss wanted you to grab some items from his warehouse in the busy New York. You hadn't grown up here and no longer had demon senses, so you had to fine your way around the hard way. All he did was give you an address and that was that.

Now, you stood in the front of a large building with three locks on the door. Mr. Crowley had never told you anything about needing keys. The windows looked worse than glass, meaning they would be difficult to break into, though you were sure that he did not want you to hurt his warehouse in any way, only to find a safe way in and out.

So you walked around to the back of the building, not noticing the thuds your boots made on the pavement. Once again, you found a door, but after twisting the knob, it refused to open. You let out a sigh in frustration and looked around for clues. After attempting to kick down the door, the only effect was a leg in some pain.

"What. The. Heck," you grumbled, wishing you had your phone, so you could leave an angry message. But of course, your boss had it.

"Well, Y/N, are you just going to stand there all day or go inside?" The British voice said from behind you.

Turning around, you saw the King of Hell - your boss. He stood with his arms crossed, a few feet away. His black coat was snugged tightly around his shoulders. You could barely see his tie near the collar. You forgot about his attitude problem for a moment, staring at him; his recently trimmed beard, the dark, always demeaning eyes, black clothes. Damn it, you followed orders as a demon. Now you were gawking at a demon hundreds of years your senior, and fifteen years elder, if you went by what his meat suit looked like.

"I-it's locked," you stammered, feeling your cheeks turn red.

He let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes, propping out his hand to you. Your brow furrowed and you hesitantly set your hand on his. He pulled out a knife from his other pocket and your heart race increased in the cage. You let out a gasp in shock, drawing Crowley's eyes to yours.

"What? I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just showing you how to unlock the door," your boss defended impatiently.

Mr. Crowley made a small cut on the front of your wrist, barely drawing blood. You watched it trail down your hand, but he caught it before the blood could reach the ground. The King of Hell continued to hold your hand as he lead you back to the door. He paused, staring you down.

"Don't ever let your blood touch the ground. It is the most important thing about you, humans that is. Blood is the key."

Your boss turned back around, dragging you with him. He lifted your hand over the door and let the blood slide into the doorknob. There was a click and he went inside, checking for any threats. You followed numbly, covering your wrist.

"Do you understand? This won't be your last time here, no matter what happens," he said, moving around, checking the books.

"Y-yes, Mr. Crowley," you confirmed, feeling heat in your cheeks.

He cast you a look that made you freeze. When he completely faced you, you insides churned, but not in a horrible way. He stared at you for a moment longer than you knew appropriate, but neither looked away, until he blinked and picked up a book, shaking away whatever he was thinking.

"Call me Crowley, love. Mister sounds too official. Think of us as friends, or business partners, if you prefer," said the King of Hell.

He flipped through some pages, quickly scanning over the words in foreign. You stood, frozen in place. A demon, a ruler of hell - was asking you to treat him like an equal. You would have thought you were dirt on his shoes, but when he looked at you like that - it was definitely not like looking at dirt.

Business partners.

Equals.

Friends.

Love.

<->

That quickly changed, you knew. Within about twenty minutes, you were a little more intimate than business partners. You stretched your arms and legs, mind steel playing the day you realized your feelings for Crowley. Finally, you got up and shut the door behind you, walking the hall.

Abandoned warehouses were supposed not to be occupied, yet you still felt creeped out by the eerie silence. You made your way into the kitchen and looked for any foods that might not be expired. When you caught the first whiff of something, your stomach growled loudly.

That made you realized that you hadn't had anything to eat in at least one day, and haven't had an actual meal in about a month. You opened cabinet doors, searching for the smell. After about five minutes, you still couldn't identify the smell.

Instead, you went to the bathroom and pinned your hair into a ponytail, retrying twice until it looked decent and not like a rat's nest. You checked to see that the water worked before stripping out of the clothes you had changed into just two hours ago. You turned on the hot water in the bathtub, and plugged the hole, waiting for it to fill.

You went into the smaller bedroom, that held a fair of amount of your clothes from a few months ago, and started searching for something clean. You settled for a pair of black jeans, a red tunic, and a leather jacket - one you had thought you'd lost. You folded the items and set them on the counter, slowly dipping yourself for the bath, taking a breath, waiting to feel relaxed.

There was a loud bang and two male voices began shouting.

#short story #supernatural #spnfandom #spn fic #spn imagine #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural story #supernatural reader insert #supernatural imagine #crowley #crowley imagine #crowley x you #crowley x reader #crowley supernatural #lucifer #lucifer supernatural #the winchesters #winchesters

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degenerate-perturbation · 4 years ago

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Chapters: 25/38 Fandom: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening, Dragon Age II Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Female Amell/Female Surana Characters: Female Amell, Female Surana, Anders, Velanna, Nathaniel Howe, Oghren (Dragon Age), Justice (Dragon Age), Sigrun (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Isabela (Dragon Age), Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Pride Demon(s) (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Self-Harm, Blood Magic, Prostitution, Drowning, Wilderness Survival, Mind Control, Human Experimentation, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better Series: Part 2 of void and light, blood and spirit Summary: Amell and Surana are out of the Circle, and are now free to build a life together. But when the prison doors fly open, what do you have in common with the one shackled next to you, save for the chains that bound you both?

Pollard’s blood lasted her only a handful of weeks. One vial she wasted, and for that she spent hours cursing her own foolishness, but successfully distilled second. Pure Blight pulsed black and ugly in the vial, viscous, oozing and alive, more than she had ever managed to get before; it was dreadfully difficult stuff to work with; corrosive, unstable, liable to eat through any vessel she kept it in. She had a thimblefull of taint now, and one vial of Pollard’s blood left over.

There had to be something. Veritas had said the secret was in the blood, and that made perfect sense. The blood of a man dying of the Taint, there had to be something.

But experiment after experiment revealed that the Blight in Pollard’s blood was no different from her own. She tried every test she’d spent all this time devising, distilling, refining, transforming, trying to find a single meaningful difference between the Taint in her blood and the Taint in the blood of a dying man. And there was nothing.

She had only the one vial left. Who knew when the next Warden would begin to hear the song? She should have taken more—curse her, she should have been more careful.

Normally she would have asked Avernus what he thought. He had ages more experience in experiments with Grey Warden blood. He might have even known all this already. If she could swallow her pride

But the thought of crawling back to him for help with something he probably had solved centuries ago made her physically recoil.

Avernus didn’t think it was even possible to cure the Taint, but what did he know? He didn’t care about curing it. He only cared about the power in the Blight, how to use it to make new spells, learn more about magic. She was not like him. She was better. She could figure this out.

The longer she tried, the more her thoughts heaved with spurts of anger and pride and fear, wild despair-shot terror that whispered, you are wrong, you are not good enough.

She redrew the summoning circle. What choice did she have?

Only when she was halfway through the ritual did she remember to cast spells of concealment.

Veritas did not seem surprised to find itself back.“So soon, Loriel Surana? Again with the invisibility. Don’t you think it is a little paranoid?”

“Why doesn’t it work?” she demanded. “You said it was in the blood.”

“Of course the secret is in the blood,” said the demon. “I do not lie.”

“Then why is a dying man’s blood just the same as mine?

“The Taint does not change a man’s blood only, Loriel Surana. The taint is in your skin and hair and heart, it is in every part of you, not just your blood. What made you think you could understand the whole of something from its smallest part?”

“You said—”

“Nothing that was false.”

She scowled. “I should have known better than to trust a demon. You lie without lying, all your kind does—”

Veritas seemed to grow then, filling up the room with its bulk. Its thousands of eyes stared unblinking right at her, its golden mask a terrible rictus. “ Do not dare insult me, mageling! I am Veritas, he who knows ten thousand truths! Not one falsehood has ever passed my lips! Call me a liar again and I will eat your heart.”

Loriel was gratified to know that she was still invisible, and Veritas did not see her flinch. “You might will it, Veritas, but it shall not happen. I have you bound so tight that if I willed it, I could leave you here and never come back. I would bind you to this circle, to this mortal plane, and you would not see your home, nor anything besides this darkness, until you forgot your very name, until you were Veritas no more. Am I lying? Tell me true.”

Veritas was silent.

“That,” said Loriel, “is what I thought.”

“You are a bold little thing,” the demon said disdainfully, “to threaten me so, when you need my help.”

“I do not need your help," she sniffed. "There are other demons like you. I could summon any of them just as well.”

“And yet you haven’t. Why is that, I wonder? If old incorrigible Veritas displeases you, why summon him? You want my cooperation, mageling, don’t deny it.”

“Fine. I won’t. I do want your help. What do you want in exchange?”

“Only this, Loriel Surana. Reveal yourself. Show me your true face, use your true voice. Let there be no unseemly secrets between the two of us.”

She had to laugh. “And what will you give me in return?”

“My goodwill, of course.”

Veritas did not lie. But it had to be a trick. What else could it be? A demon would not offer a deal unless it had the upper hand. The wise thing to do would be to dismiss it, find another spirit to deal with, one less dangerous, one with not quite so many staring eyes…

But...If she was going to show herself, she may as well do it to a creature that might understand her. She released the spells of concealment, and was beheld.

Every one of Veritas’s thousands of eyes focused right on her, boring into her skin, scraping every inch of her. “My, you’re even smaller than I was imagining.”

“Do you even know how to cure the Taint?” Her voice sounded preposterously small without the spell of echoing misdirection layered on top of it.

“No,” the demon said easily. “But I am very curious as to how you will manage it. I’m even willing to help.”

Of course. Of course of course of—“As though you’ve been any help.”

Veritas sat back lazily on its haunches. “You don’t even need my help, not at this juncture. You said so yourself. You know exactly what you need to do.”

“Do I." The words dropped like stones from her mouth.

“Of course you do, Loriel Surana! You must use human subjects! Or elven, or dwarven, or whichever—you mortals are not all that different. I told you as much when last we spoke.”

“I did use human—”

“Do not be coy. Blood alone will not do it. You discovered as much yourself. You know what must be done, but still you hesitate. Why, I wonder?”

She did not answer.

“I will tell you this for free, because you already know it." Veritas turned in a circle and settled itself on its pause, like an enormous cat. "You hesitate because you wish to think of yourself as good, or at least, not evil. You prefer so strongly to believe that you are not like others of your kind that you would fail your stated goal on purpose. For as long as you stay bound to it, doing your reasonably convincing best, though you perform for no one but yourself, you do not have to move or think or be.”

She stood white-faced and silent, for every word rang true.

“Now if what you truly wanted was what you claim to want,” Veritas went on, “you would not hesitate to do what you already know you must. You would accept the price of thinking yourself evil, and pursue that which brings you closer to your goal, and that alone. But this is not what you want above all things, so you make only tepid and halfhearted efforts to achieve it.”

“You sound like Avernus,” she scoffed.

The demon’s golden eyes flared, and now it knew another name important to her. Was she truly so mad in her aloneness that she would give away her secrets to a demon, just to have someone to give them to?

Yes, she realized. Yes, she was.

tck

Brigit concluded her report. No new deaths. No Callings. No sign of the Architect.

“Thank you, Seneschal.” That will be all, but somehow those words did not get spoken, and until she spoke them Brigit would not move. She stood ramrod straight, at attention, the ideal servant.

“Seneschal. Why did you decide to come here?”

“To serve the Grey Wardens,” she answered at once. “To help. In my own small way.”

"And yet you do not join us?"

Brigit shook her head. "No, ser. I am no warrior. I can bear neither sword nor bow, but I hope to be of use in other ways."

"But why?" Loriel fixed her deep black gaze on hers. Brigit’s eyes were light, and they could be green or blue or brown depending on the light. Here and now, they looked slate grey, and did not waver one bit.

"I don't understand. What reason would I need to wish to serve? Why does anybody wish to serve?"

No. No, that rang false. "Please, Brigit. Let there be no secrets between us."

Finally Brigit dropped her gaze and said in a small and quiet voice: “I was at Denerim. During the battle. We had evacuated from the south, but the Blight had come for us anyway. I remember the storm...the only light came from the lightning. I saw the beast there, with my own eyes. I had never been so afraid in my life. I had always believed in the Maker, believed that he loved us, though we his children had gone astray...but when I saw that thing, I was not sure. What father would set such a thing on his children? I don't know why it affected me so deeply.

"And I saw it die. I saw you slay it." You. Brigit said it like a prayer. "Ser, I am no scholar, but I know my history. I know that no Grey Warden has ever survived such a feat. I had never believed in miracles, until that day."

Am I all you hoped for? Loriel wanted to ask. But it only would have hurt her, and hurting her would have been the point. And if the answer had been yes, that would be too terribly to contemplate.

"I survived the assault, and returned to my life, but I never forgot. I wanted my life to mean something, but I was a coward. I cannot fight. I fear pain and death. I would be a useless Grey Warden... but I know sums, notations, and I write well. It is the Maker’s blessing that my mean skills are now of use.”

Loriel nodded slowly. “I see. Thank you.” Then she added, almost as an afterthought, “You know how much I value you, Brigit.”

The full light of the sun shined out from the smile that split Brigit's face. “Thank you, Commander. I ask for nothing else.”

“You understand what a rare thing it is, to have my trust.”

“I do.”

“Do you trust me as I trust you?”

“Of course, Commander—of course, of course.”

“Good. That’s good.” She hesitated only a moment longer. “Tell me, Brigit, when you hand down judgments in my name—for what do you condemn men to die?”

“Rape,” Brigit said at once. “Treason. Murder. Fire-setting. Poaching. Assault of a Chantry mother.”

“Are these the laws of the land, or my laws?”

“Both, Commander. It is difficult to defy tradition and keep the support of the Bannorn, but the Arlessa has some discretion.”

“Are there many such capital crimes?”

“Not many. But always some.”

“How many?”

“Four condemned men are in the dungeons now.”

“Only four?”

“Most who break your laws or the king’s are punished swiftly within the city of Amaranthine, or by a local sheriff. Only those cases of unusual difficulty are ever brought before the Arlessa. Usually when the perpetrator is a person of note, who cannot be punished without producing political difficulties. I try to resolve such things quickly, in your name, but they often take some time. Justice, if it ever comes, comes slow.”

Loriel noted the shadow that flicked across her face.

“And these men’s crimes?”

Brigit told her. Loriel listened, and when she finished, stood and said: “Take me to the dungeons, please.”

tck

Brigit led her down the long and winding way to the dungeons. She went to take a torch from a sconce, but Loriel waved her away and cast a wisplight. Gamely, Brigit did not fluster.

There were guards at the door, junior Wardens serving a boring patrol, and they snapped to attention when they saw Brigit arrive. Their eyes widened with astonishment at the sight of Loriel. No wonder—these recruits looked fresh enough that they likely had never seen her before. Only heard the stories.

She bid them to leave. They hesitated, uncertain, weakly protesting that the prisoners could be dangerous, until Brigit repeated the order, and they scurried. That annoyed her—but she supposed this was a situation of her own making.

She remembered coming here on her very first full day as the Warden-Commander, called on to deal with a petty burglar. Funny how it had all turned out. She didn’t know where Nathaniel was now. She didn’t even remember him leaving.

Most of the cells were still empty. Brigit ran a tight ship. But many were full.

“This is more than four.”

“Yes, ser. Most are not condemned to die. Many are kept here until their family can pay the geld.”

“And if they cannot pay it?”

“They will be punished, and released.”

Loriel looked at the imprisoned men. They did not look dangerous. They looked tired and afraid and miserable. Her people, and she their warden.

“Which of these is the murderer?”

“The third cell on the right, ser.”

The murderer’s name was Geron, and he had murdered his own daughter. The girl had been seven years old, and Geron had smashed her head in with a cast iron pot. His wife had fled their house in terror, and when no one in the village would help her, had journeyed all the way to Vigil’s Keep to receive the Arlessa’s justice. The Arlessa’s men had found Henrick hiding in the attic of the inn, and dragged him to the dungeons to await judgement. Brigit had rendered it—death by hanging, for the crime of murder.

It had been an unusual decision, considering the extenuating circumstances. Geron had only done it because the little girl had been a mage. He’d caught her making mud-creatures with her mind, realized what she was, and killed her on the spot.

Loriel gazed blankly at him for a long time before speaking. “Why did you do it?”

The murderer raised his head. His eyes were streaming. “Please, ser.”

“Why did you do it?” she repeated.

He could hardly speak. He mouthed something that did not seem like an answer to her question.

“Tell me, please,” Loriel said quietly. “Were you afraid of her? Did you think it better for her to die? Did you hate her?”

This is what my people think of me, she thought. An insect. They would crush me in their disgust, were I small enough. But then, had he not killed his girl, she would have been taken to the Circle. Perhaps he had done her a favor.

She pressed her finger-ring into her palm. “Tell me.”

“I panicked,” the man babbled. She'd hardly had to compel him at all. “I didn’t mean to. Maker, forgive me, I’d do anything to take it back, forgive me!”

No, thought Loriel, I do not think I will.

“Then I offer you a choice.” She spoke quietly, but every ear in the room still strained to hear her. “You may take your death by hanging, or you may take the Joining. A life of service awaits you if you survive. The choice is yours.”

“Yes,” the man said hoarsely. “Yes, I will take the Joining. Thank you, Maker, thank you.”

She stepped back from the child-murderer’s cell.

“And the rest of you?” she inquired. “The same choice lies before you. Death, or the Joining?”

One by one, each condemned man volunteered.

Loriel turned to Brigit, who had gone pale and ghostly in the dim light of the dungeon. “Make the arrangements, Seneschal.”

tck

Brigit remained pale and silent as they left the dungeons. Loriel noted it, but waited to return to the safety of her office to press. “Is something the matter, Seneschal?”

“Nothing, ser,” Brigit said quickly.

Loriel waited expectantly, and thought Brigit would keep whatever it was to herself, when:

“It is only that…” She struggled, then burst out: “Are you certain this is wise, Commander? Vigil’s Keep does not lack for recruits. Why offer this honor to these men who have broken the laws of your land?”

“Everyone deserves a second chance. The Grey Wardens have always recognized that.”

“I—yes, of course, but,” it took her visible effort to continue, “but it is not about what one deserves . If a man is to be made a Grey Warden, I would have to find somewhere to place him. If he might pose a threat to his fellow Wardens, if we could not trust him—”

“Do you have such concerns about any man in particular?”

Brigit set her jaw and nodded. “Yes. Calder. There are details of his crimes that you may not fully appreciate. He is a relative of Bann Helven, and the situation with the Bann is complicated. Condemning his cousin for a crime that in other Arlings is not punishable by death at all was difficult. The Bann does not feel Calder’s crimes warrant death, and I may have to bend to his wishes.” The venom in her voice was enough to take Loriel aback. “To have him as a Grey Warden will only complicate things further.”

“To be a Grey Warden is an honor," Loriel said mildly. "Surely the Bann can see that.”

Brigit pressed her lips together. “It is not only that. Calder, he’s...He would have to be kept away from women and children. The girls he��they were young. He...a man such as that would be a liability for the Wardens, not an asset.”

Oh. Calder was the rapist. Loriel took in Brigit’s tight lips, her white face, and put it all together.

Suddenly she felt she understood Veritas. She let her voice soften. “Then of course I will take that into account.”

“Commander, I…”

Loriel extended a comforting hand, placed it lightly on her forearm. Brigit’s breath stopped in her lungs.

“Seneschal,” Loriel said, in her best pass at soft and gentle. “I understand completely. We are both women, after all.”

The effect on her was immediate. Loriel didn’t even need to say the lie, or even imply it. Brigit did it all herself. The Seneschal, usually a cipher of utter professionalism, cracked into pieces of gratitude and pity and devotion. And there it was. She had her.

“There is no need for you to attend this Joining. I will handle it.”

She tried to hide it, but her shoulders still sagged in relief, just as they tightened again with guilt. “Are you absolutely certain, Commander?”

“Of course. Make whatever preparations are necessary. I will take care of things from there.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Do you believe me, when I say that all I do, I do to fight the Blight?” she said softly.

“I believe you.” She said it at once, with such fervor. Loriel had no doubt she meant it.

“Do you trust me, Seneschal?”

“Yes,” Brigit all-but-whispered.

“Then let us speak no more of this.”

tck

Brigit wasted no time. She had everything arranged by the following evening. She apologized profusely that it could not be earlier, offered again and again to be present, obviously relieved each time Loriel declined.

For her part, Loriel made token attempts to make progress on the work while she waited, but by the second day, gave up. She sat in her Underkeep and thought incessantly of the child-murderer. It did not seem real, what she intended to do. Let alone how much she wanted to do it.

The hour approached at once intolerably slowly, and terrifyingly fast.

Guards brought the prisoners to the deserted chamber, released them from their chains, and departed. Loriel had already ensured they would not remember this, or come back in here. The prisoners were still and silent, awaiting their fates.

Loriel had not been present at a Joining in years. She only remembered the words because she had looked them up in advance. Not that they were important. Not that anyone in this room would leave it alve.

“Join us, brothers, in the shadows where we stand vigilant,” she said. She sounded ridiculous. “Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn.” How did anybody take this seriously? “And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten.” It would not be remembered in the first place. She’d made sure of that. “And that one day, we shall join you.”

The last word echoed away, and then she offered the cup: “Who shall take the Joining first?”

At least she was giving them a choice. Not much of a choice—one death or the other—but it more than the choice Loriel had been given. More than the choice almost every Warden in existence had been given. In her own Joining, Duncan hadn’t even let them volunteer. At least they had done something to deserve it, besides being born.

One of the men shrugged and stepped forward. Loriel knew neither his crime nor his name. He stared at the vile mixture for long moments before finally taking a sip.

A sip was all it took. He spasmed, gasped, and choked. He died over the course of a few seconds, but they were long seconds.The three remaining prisoners stood stiff and staring at the body. They had known this might happen, but now it was real.

It was altogether not surprising. Even honest, devoted, strong-willed people could die in the Joining. She had no reason to expect that men who had only agreed to the Joining out of desperation to do much better.

“His sacrifice will not be forgotten,” Loriel said flatly.

“Th-that’s a horrible way to die. Maker, I…” Another of the condemned men was shaking his head. “I—I think I’d rather hang.”

She shook her head minutely. “That is no longer possible.”

“Please,” his voice was a whisper— “Please don’t make me drink that. Please, I can’t, please just let me go back to my cell, I won’t cause no trouble, please, Arlessa...I’d rather a good clean death.”

The hangman wouldn’t offer him that. “I grant it,” she said, and crushed a blood vessel in the base of his brain. He was dead before he hit the ground. Instant. Painless. Better than a stopped heart or crushed lungs. She had gotten better at this, since the first time she'd tried it.

“His sacrifice will not be forgotten,” she intoned.

Two remained. Calder, the rapist with the noble relative, looked at the cooling corpse in horror, but the child-murderer’s eyes were closed as though in prayer. Loriel thought of drawing his blood screaming out of him, confirming his every worst fear about her kind. She thought of the lies she would tell him—that she could feel his little daughter’s spirit in the Fade, that she was here with her, that she wanted her to do this thing to him. How she would make him suffer, how she would make him weep. How she would use every trick she had ever learned to keep him alive, how he would spend eternities paying for what before she even began to consider granting him rest.

Yes, she wanted it. She would do it. She could not wait to do it.

“Step forward.”

Geron opened his eyes with resolve, stepped forward, and knelt. She watched his face. It was open and honest, terrified but resolved. He regretted what he had done. He wanted to atone.

Well, he would.

“Get up,” she barked. “Drink!”

Geron took the Joining cup and drank.

He collapsed immediately. The Joining cup would have fallen and spilled its noxious contents if not for Loriel’s instinctual telekinetic spell. Geron had looked pathetic in the dungeon, pathetic begging her forgiveness, and now he looked both pathetic and small, collapsed on the flagstones. Her heart thundered. What fortune that this man was there in the dungeons. She might never have otherwise had the courage.

And then she realized that the faint pulse of life was gone. The Taint had taken her prize. He was dead.

The soap-bubble beauty of her little fantasy popped.

“His sacrifice...will not be forgotten,” she said, unsure for whose benefit.

Bitter disappointment settled in her chest, tinged with the faintest strains of shamed relief.

“Guess that leaves me, then,” said Calder. He had raped and badly beaten three young girls. Now he stood swinging his arms, looking around at all the corpses.

“Just how often is this Joining fatal?”

She was slow to reply. “Not as fatal as your one alternative."

Calder barked a laugh. “Point taken. Well, nothing for it.” Calder seized the cup and took an unseemly swig, nearly spilling it down his front. He gagged and coughed, flecks of Joining blood splattering the flagstones. She was not really paying attention to him anymore. She stared at Geron’s corpse. She had been so sure...so ready…

In the heartbeats that followed, Calder, too, gagged and bent, and collapsed insensible to the flagstones.

And Loriel was alone with herself once more.

tck

She hadn’t slept at all when she next saw Brigit.

“Commander,” the Seneschal murmured as she set her morning tea in front of her.

“Seneschal,” Loriel replied, wrapping her hands around the cup, absorbing none of its warmth.

Brigit gave her report, halfheartedly. Loriel listened with even less heart than that. Finally they had performed enough normalcy that they dared speak of the matter at hand.

“Are there new Wardens for me to assign?”

“Oh,” Loriel said, as though she hadn’t even been thinking of it. “No. No, there aren’t.”

Brigit’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh. All four?”

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

Brigit exhaled with relief. “It is justice, then.”

“No,” Loriel said flatly. “It isn’t.” Justice would be for that girl to have lived. Justice would be for a world where her death at the hands of her father would be an unthinkable absurdity. Justice would be a world where death had not been a kinder fate than the Circle. Justice had fled this place, leaving a massacre in his wake. Justice could not dwell in this world and remain Justice.

“No...it isn’t,” Brigit reluctantly agreed. “But the nearest thing that can be hoped for.”

“Brigit—may I ask you a question?”

“Of course, ser. I am ever at your service.”

An idle thought: As you should be. “Do you suppose I did the right thing, in allowing these men to be Joined?”

A voice, a ghost, a memory: Of course you did the right thing.

“I would not presume to say, Commander. I trust you know what is best.”

“I am asking what you think is best, Brigit.”

Brigit gazed at her feet. “It is immaterial what I think.”

“No, Brigit. It isn’t. Look at me. I value your opinion. I would have you speak your mind.”

The Seneschal lifted her head. “I think...that is quite unusual, for every recruit to die in a Joining.”

Loriel held her gaze steady. “These men volunteered only to escape their imminent deaths. I would not expect many to survive.”

“Yes...but many come to the Wardens seeking to escape their fates,” Brigit said, slowly. “Four is not so many as to be impossible. Perhaps not even notable, to those unfamiliar with the process. But it is...unusual.”

“Hm. Yes. Perhaps so.” Loriel made out as though she were examining her nails. “But this way at least Bann Helven can be comforted that his cousin died in faithful service. To die in the Joining is an honor. Far more so, I think, than to be executed on such charges as he had.”

“That...is certainly so.”

“Tell me again, Brigit. Do you think it was good, or bad, for me to allow those men to be Joined? Answer truly.”

An echo: You always do the right thing.

Brigit held very still. Finally she bowed her head. Perhaps it was only the angle of her head, but she seemed to be smiling. “I confess I think it good.”

Loriel shaped a smile in return. “That is wonderful to hear, Brigit. I do so value your support.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

“You should dress more finely. You speak with the voice and all the authority of the Arlessa of Amaranthine and the Commander of the Grey. Have you no fine brocades in silver or blue?”

How fortunate, that Brigit was pale enough that even the faintest of flushes showed easily on her skin.

“I could obtain some.”

“Good. Do so. You should dress as befits your position. Now, if we have nothing further to discuss...”

Brigit left her office flushed and preening. If Loriel had any doubts about her they were gone now. She was heartened to know that she did not yet need to accomplish everything with blood magic.

She finished the tea in silence.

tck

Loriel long dwelled on Geron’s death, down in her Underkeep.

She had no love of self-deception. She had long prided herself on this. She saw this ugly world, her ugly self, just as they were, and did not flinch. The old commander was the one who flinched. Not her.

And yet she had somehow been so wrong about her own nature.

Some things that Loriel knew about herself—that she liked power. That she liked to be in control. That she was ready to risk other people’s minds and souls, if she could keep her power and stay in control. It didn’t take a demon of knowledge to figure out why. She could imagine what Veritas would say, were it here:

Of course you love power, it would say as it pranced in its binding circle. Of course you would choose to keep power over all other things. You were a prisoner, Loriel Surana! A helpless little girl, bound by walls and violent men and love and fear and duty, and you are that prisoner still, prisoner of your own pretentions. You can no more escape yourself than you can cure the Taint. All prisoners everywhere take any scrap of control that they can get.

A woman who craved power above all else could not possibly be called good . She had tried so long and so hard to be good, and it had been impossible, and the strain of trying had nearly cracked her open. Well, fine. She did not need to be good. The Chantry was good, and the Chantry decreed it good to keep children imprisoned with rapists and torturers and murderers, decreed it good to break their souls. What did she care for being good?

But Veritas had been right, that she was lying to herself about what she wanted most. She wanted to find a cure, yes, that was so—but more than that, she wished so dearly to not be evil. If she could not be good, at least let her not be evil. Let her not sink to the furthest depths. Let her say that some things even she would not do, places even she would not tread.

Yet when the opportunity presented itself to subject a repentant man to torment in plain revenge for a crime that could not be undone, whose victim could not be recompensed—she had wanted it so badly.

Before she had gone to the dungeons she was not sure if she would have really done it. But she would have. And she would have enjoyed it. She had thought that, once the heat of the moment had passed, that she would grow horrified at herself, vow never to consider such a course again—

And that had not happened.

Was that not evil? To wish to inflict harm, just for the sake of it? For the sake of one’s own pleasure? There was no truer face of evil that Loriel could think of.

After that...it would be pure insanity, to slow progress on her work, just to keep thinking herself pure, when she so clearly was not so, and never had been. She had come into this world destined already cursed, already tainted. The Joining that had put darkspawn taint in her veins was little more than a formality. She had thought that she’d understood this.

Veritas had been right about her priorities, but they were changing now. If she could not be good, if her nature was purely evil, then—at least she might do good.

That meant she could not let herself get in her own way.

tck

Calder woke. It surprised him. He’d had such dreadful dreams, but now he was awake—sweet Maker, he was awake. He was alive, he had survived! A Grey Warden, he thought in a heady rush, I’m a Grey Warden now. The relief that bloomed in him was palpable, almost overwhelming. He lay upon what felt like a stone slab in partial darkness, and blessed Andraste, he’d survived.

He had really thought he was going to die, and die horribly. Sure enough he had felt ready to when the vile Joining mixture had burned the back of his throat. He'd never tasted anything half so vile..

And he had had such dreams…

But it was over now. Alive, alive!

He heard someone approach. “Congratulations,” said a voice. He recognized it. The Arlessa—and his Commander, now. He didn’t think he’d ever been so happy to hear anybody in his entire life. “You are a Grey Warden, now.”

He moved to sit up, to thank her, and found that he couldn’t.

Only then did Calder notice the fact that he was paralyzed. There were no chains on his wrists or ankles,-but the force that bound him to where he lay was far heavie than chains. He could move, and he could blink, even move his head a little to track the Arlessa as she moved around the room, but that was all.

“I’m sorry,” said the Arlessa, and she sounded like she meant it. “If it makes you feel any better, leaving you alive was never an option.” She turned to a workbench. He heard the clinking of glass, the smell of intermixing reagents. “A Grey Warden is bound to a life of service. So you are here, helping me with some important work.”

Calder tried to speak, to scream, but though he could move his tongue to swallow, no sound came from his throat save for a strangled voiceless gargle.

“I’ve stilled your voice, but I can unstill it. We can speak like civilized people, before I begin," said the Arlessa. "If I let you speak, will you do your best not to scream? Blink twice for yes.”

He blinked twice, and all of a sudden had a voice again.

“What’s happening? What are you going to do to me?” The words tumbled out in a stilted rush.

“As I said,” said the Arlessa. “You are helping me with some important work. As a subject. The details, I am afraid, likely would go over your head, though I can discuss them with you for a short time if you truly desire.”

“Please,” he begged, “my father, he can help you. He’s an established man. Surely we can work something out—”

“Your father,” she interrupted, “believes you to have died honorably in service to your countrymen. A funeral is planned for next week. They will burn what looks quite convincingly like your body. Your family will mourn, but they will have closure. Privately some of them will feel a little relieved. I hope that makes you feel a little better.”

Calder threw his head back against the stone on which he lay. Was it his imagination, or could he move more freely than before? “I know I did some bad things. The Maker will judge me, I know I deserve to suffer—”

The Arlessa gave a slight tilt of the head. “Deserve? No, I don’t think anybody deserves to suffer. This has nothing to do with what you deserve. Only what you can offer. If it matter to you, your life will probably make more of a difference to the people of Thedas than any other Grey Warden alive.”

Only then did it dawn on him. Sweet Maker, the rumors had been true, all of them. She was going to-- “You’re going to use me as a sacrifice in your demented rituals, aren’t you?” he said hysterically. “Andraste protect me, you’re going to...to…” His imagination failed him.

The Arlessa looked deeply offended. “I am not going to do any such thing. I need no more than my own blood and sweat and pain to work these spells. You are a subject, not a sacrifice.”

“You maniacal fucking bitch,” he gasped, “I’ll fucking kill you, you evil—”

Just like that he had no voice anymore. The Arlessa looked vaguely annoyed, at best.

“I strongly prefer you do not use language like that in front of me."

Tears leaked silently from the corners of his eyes.

“Perhaps it is foolish to talk to you,” she sighed. “Or rather, I know it is foolish. I admit that perhaps I feel a little lonely at times. But it would be cruel to leave you like this.”

His tears flowed freely down his temples and into his hair.

“You won’t die anytime soon, I’m afraid,” she said, drawing a knife, and at first he feared she would kill him there and then. “I don’t want to have to do this to any more people than I absolutely have to. But you will die with honor, and you won’t suffer. Goodbye. Know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

When she spoke next, her voice was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard, so lovely and sublime that not to do whatever she wanted was the height of madness. “You do not know pain. You do not know fear. You are a vessel, empty of everything that might cause you to suffer. You are aware of your body, enough to describe how it feels to me, but it no longer troubles you. If you need something to live, you will tell me at once. Otherwise you will stay here, neither living nor dead, and you will know nothing.”

Calder fell into the silence, and didn’t.

#dragon age #dragon age: origins #the warden #surana #amell #femslash #please read my wizard lesbian fanfiction

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hisakata-resutomoshibi · 5 years ago

Text

Altered States

Oh hey there, so I accidentally wrote a whole fic for that comic I made a few days ago LOL

The eighth time Kuro flinched when Mahiru looked at him, he snapped.

"What's your problem?!"

Kuro peered at him over the top of his manga, looking for all the world, guilty.

"Nothing."

"What a load of bullshit!" Mahiru exclaimed, throwing the dish rag back into the sink. "Every time you look at me you cringe like someone's kicked you!"

Laying his head down on the table, Kuro closed his eyes and sighed gustily. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do!" Mahiru stomped over to where he sat and slammed a hand on the table. "And I'm sick of it!"

The force of the gesture bounced Kuro's forehead against the rough grain surface and he grimaced, gingerly touching the red spot that had formed. Mahiru frowned and tucked his hands behind his back.

"Sorry."

"S'ok." Kuro mumbled, hunching back over as he looked everywhere around the dark kitchen but at Mahiru. "It's to be expected."

"Is it?" He asked, surprised. Behind him the clock ticked over the new hour, three AM, and the coffee pot beeped on.

"Of course." Kuro muttered sourly. "What do you expect when your strength is suddenly a hundred times what it was?"

Mahiru crossed his arms, thinking as he tapped a finger against his inner forearm. "I dunno. I guess I figured I'd just kind of.... get it?" He laughed and shrugged, pulling out a chair and sitting facing Kuro's tense form. "So is there something I should be doing? To learn better?"

Kuro finally glanced at him, his eyes wide in what looked like disgust. "How can you be so nonchalant about this?" He demanded, lips twisting in a way that had Mahiru feeling rather sick to his stomach.

"What do you mean? There's nothing to do but get used to it, right?"

Suddenly, Kuro jumped up, his chair screeching back as he stepped away from the table. "Mahiru." He spit harshly. "You're dead.

"Mahiru watched him calmly, arms resting on the table in front of him. From the corner of his eye he noticed he'd forgotten to switch the brew strength to strong. "Not really." He said casually. "I'm still sitting here, talking and doing the dishes."

Kuro crept farther away, shaking his head softly from side to side. "No. It's not the same." As he reached the threshold of the kitchen, he actually tripped, his heel catching on the jut of the carpeting and he stumbled. His arm shot out, bracing against the archway and he clenched his teeth so hard, Mahiru heard it from across the room. "You'll see." With those dubious words, he slipped around the corner and melted into the blanketed shadows of the living room.

Unsure whether Kuro had turned into his swifter cat form, or had just bolted down the hall, Mahiru stood slowly, pacing over to the coffee pot and punching the brew button. The little green light immediately flipped to red and he sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "What's wrong with you two?" Misono asked, waving his finger idly over several different chess pieces as he decided which to move.

"What do you mean?" Mahiru asked nervously, his eyes tracking the movement of Misono's finger, and consequently the gentle flow of blood through the thin veins.

Misono glanced up, his brow raised, completely unimpressed. "Don't play dumb with me. That idiot cat won't come within ten feet of you." When Mahiru remained silent, he continued. "He used to drape himself over you like an out of date smoking jacket. What's wrong?"

Twirling his fingers around each other, nervously, Mahiru rolled his shoulders in surrender. "What do you think?" He flicked his red gaze up to Misono and blinked.

Misono, to his credit, did not flinch, but his eyes did narrow momentarily. "I would think he would be relieved."

This was a new take on it to Mahiru and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Why do you say that?" He refused to let his expression change when Misono touched a piece, peering over at him to see if he found it worrisome.

Scoffing, Misono finally pushed his knight forward. "Oh, please. Do you have any idea what kind of state that bastard would be in if you had died? The town would be destroyed, no doubt." He tapped his fingers against the table a moment and sat back, satisfied. "And I imagine-" he fixed Mahiru with a look "- it's because he's rather fond of you."

Mahiru waved a hand through the air in dismissal. "Of course he's fond of me. It's been three years."

Misono rolled his eyes. "Not at all what I was referring to."

"Then what did you mean?"

"Let's just leave it with this- I think it likely that Kuro feels responsible for you, in more than one way. No doubt he's feeling guilty for not protecting you."

"How long did Lily have to coach you to get that right?" Mahiru asked humorously, ignoring the glare he got in return. "Besides, I'm fine." He gestured down at himself. "Here I am, all limbs intact and breathing!"

Misono paused, staring at him as though he were an idiot. "I don't think they see it the same way we do, Mahiru." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "So, you're upset that I'm not human anymore?"

After a dizzying amount of thought, Mahiru had decided that the simplest approach was best, and that meant cornering Kuro when he least expected it and just going straight for the kill, as it were. He had bided his time, pretending not to be upset every time Kuro flinched back from him, or turned away, and waited until after dinner. Kuro was sprawled across the couch with his usual lack luster enthusiasm and Mahiru had used the distraction of a new drama series to make two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. It was unlikely, but he hoped that the drink would prove a useful deterrent in Kuro claiming a busy schedule to go running off again.

Jumping at the question as though shocked, Kuro dropped the remote, his gaze, for the first time in days, meeting Mahiru's. "What?" His voice was rough and uneven, serving only further to remind Mahiru of how far apart they seemed to have fallen. "What did you say?"

"I said, so, are you upset that I'm not human anymore?" It took every ounce of self control in his body to keep a straight face, to keep any inflection or bias from his tone, when all he really wanted to do was curl up next to Kuro and beg him to tell him that it wasn't just that a possible eternity of Mahiru's company didn't sit so well with him.

"What do you want me to say?"

Mahiru shrugged. "The truth." Setting down the two mugs, he perched gingerly on the edge of the cushion, as close to Kuro as he dared. Not only had their communication dropped to almost zero over the last week, but now Kuro seemed to have developed a distinct aversion to any and all forms of "nearness". It was made all the more grating to Mahiru's nerves given the new subtle smells he could pick up, one of which was a soft, almost pine like scent that seemed to come from Kuro. It was distracting and interesting and he found himself constantly fighting to keep from drifting closer to get more of it.

Kuro scoffed, the first sign of a real emotion that he had shown in ages and Mahiru almost smiled. "It's always so simple for you, isn't it?"

"What is?" Mahiru asked in surprise.

"Everything." His tone was bitter, but Mahiru could still just barely hear a sense of exhaustion dancing along the borders.

"Not everything." In disbelief, Kuro turned to him, mouth twitching to the side and this time Mahiru did smile. "In fact, most things are complicated. Which is why I choose to just go about it simply. The best way to deal with trouble is to face it head on, right?"

Instead of answering, Kuro shrugged, closing off as he looked away, his gaze skittering around the room and through the piles of magazines and comics and games he had amassed since his arrival in Mahiru's life. "I'm going to bed." He stood and without ever turning, walked swiftly down the small hall and to his room.

When the sound of the door closing and the lock clicking echoed, impossibly loud, back to Mahiru, he reached out and picked up the far mug, the one with the little black cat on it. Leaning back, he took a tentative sip, willing the tears crowding his throat to stay hidden away. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ On the bright side, Mahiru thought, as he slid down the wall, the pain this would have normally caused was seriously dampened by his new body. Looking up, shocked by the size of the dent in the siding that he had left behind, he blinked. Yup. It was kind of amazing. Not to say that it hurt less, he amended, wincing when the man took another lunging grab for him and scraped back the skin along the length of his arm. It was more like his senses had been tuned and refined, allowing him to sort through and choose which sensations to focus on.

"Wish it came with some cheat codes, though." He muttered, throwing himself to the side just in time to avoid a steel tipped boot to the face. His reflexes may have improved a hundred fold, his speed and strength unparalleled to his former, his body resilient and healing almost from the second it was damaged, but that didn't mean he knew any better how to take advantage of any of that. His years of rigorous training and experience had transformed him into the very warrior that he had so desperately wanted to be, but that had been his human body. Now, finding his soul trapped within the murky wavering confines of this strange new territory, he couldn't seem to recall a single block or defensive move. "Fuck!"

The man, sensing his irritated distraction, had taken a running leap and thrown them both back, over the edge of the roof they had ended up on. As they tumbled through the air, Mahiru went for broke and spun himself, levering his leg out and praying it connected. When he felt a solid thump, he risked looking over his shoulder to see that he had in fact landed a hit and the man- the vampire- was now unconscious and angled away, falling farther out of reach each millisecond. Miraculously, he crashed through one of the large windows of the neighboring factory building and Mahiru sucked in a deep, relieved breath.

"Yes!" He shouted and then closed his eyes, praying, probably in vain, that the pain of breaking perhaps all the bones in his legs upon landing wouldn't put him into shock. He didn't really fancy passing out in the alley to be found by his new rogue vampire friend, or worse yet, happened upon by some poor, terrified mother walking home from the grocers.

"You're still a total moron."

The voice hissing in his ear and the arms circled tightly around his waist were all achingly familiar and Mahiru's eyes flew back open to meet Kuro's, staring at him in mournful anger. Somehow somersaulting them gracefully in the last ten feet to the ground, Kuro landed lightly on his feet, Mahiru still clutched against his chest.

"What were you thinking?" He demanded, seeming to forget, for the moment at least, that his strict rule of no touching was being blatantly neglected.

"Well, I was hoping that I wouldn't break all my bones." Mahiru said cheerfully, trying desperately to keep himself from leaning into the soft cotton of Kuro's jacket.

Kuro sighed explosively, rolling his eyes heavenward as though seeking divine intervention. "I can't deal with you." He finally looked back down, gaze wandering gently over as much of Mahiru as he could see. "Are you ok?"

Overcome with joyful panic at the show of concern, what had once been so commonplace and was now unheard of, Mahiru could barely answer, the words tumbling from his mouth like warm stones. "Thanks, Kuro." He swallowed, and forced his lips into what could be described loosely as a smile. "How did you know where to find me?"

"Lucky guess." He muttered stiffly, remembering himself and stepping back, his arms falling coldly away from Mahiru's sides. He sighed, staring down at the ground where the first few drops of enterprising rain were beginning to fall. "Let's go. It's going to be a storm." Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked jerkily away.

Mahiru couldn't help but notice that he was dragging his left foot just slightly and he was rushing to catch up, reaching out to grab a swatch of warm blue jacket and return the favor of inquiry, when at the last moment, just inches from the weaved cotton, his fingers froze and dropped. He stopped, standing still in the middle of the alley as he watched Kuro slowly disappearing into the increasing fall of water from the clouds. Looking up, he forced his eyes, red and inhumanly sharp, to remain open, even as the small chill drips landed against them. In the dropping temperature it was impossible to tell if it was his tears or just the rain that was tickling across his jaw and down his neck. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "What am I supposed to do?" Mahiru asked softly. He couldn't bring himself to turn from where he stood at the counter, though whether it was shame or fear or embarrassment that stilled him, he didn't know.

"Why are you asking me?" Hyde tossed the remaining melted ice from his cup out the window. "Why don't you just tie him up until he talks to you?"

Shocked into forgetting his mortification, Mahiru glanced over his shoulder. "Are you kidding me? Sometimes I don't think you know Kuro at all."

Hyde shrugged, hands splayed and eyes wide in mock confusion. "What do you want from me? I'm supposed to be meeting Licht at the mall right now, you know." He peered crookedly over the rims of his glasses. "Do you know Kuro?"

The question took him by surprise and Mahiru fumbled the whisk, splattering eggs across the counter top. "Of course I do!" He fell silent, worrying his lip, wincing when one of his fangs sank into the soft skin and a small splash of sweet blood landed on his tongue.

Hyde laughed, crossing his legs and tipping back in the chair. "If you say so!" When Mahiru just continued to stare morosely down at the frothy bowl of eggs and milk in his hands, he groaned and stood. "Look. I know you've got this crazy obsession with being simple or whatever lame thing it is you're always yelling." He grinned when Mahiru turned to glare hotly at him and slapped a hand on his shoulder. "But sometimes you're terrible at taking your own advice! I can tell you the best way to talk to Licht, but Kuro, well, Mahiru, you're the expert." He paused, smirking pointedly. "Because you're the only one Kuro will let be the expert."

Mahiru didn't answer, instead pulling a spatula from the drawer and dipping it contemplatively into the egg bowl. Perhaps Hyde, although still almost unbearably annoying, was right. Maybe it really was that simple.

"These are my words of great wisdom for you." Hyde said, interrupting his thoughts and bowing lowly. "And with that I leave you to your newly eternal teenage angst!" Mahiru rounded on him in ire and he laughed uproariously, darting back. As he fled the room, he leaned back in through the door way just long enough to snag a handful of cookies from the jar on the far counter, and, shoving two in his mouth, winked. "Like I shed Mahroo, jush tahk to 'im. E'll lishen to yoo." Crumbs flew from his mouth and Mahiru unthinkingly whipped the spatula at his head. He ducked at the last second and his laughter bounced down the hall as he danced away, the utensil leaving a huge stain of yellow batter like goo dripping lazily down the wall. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dinner was always quiet nowadays, something Mahiru had come to sullenly accept, so when Kuro scraped his spoon softly around his bowl and asked him what the splotch in the kitchen was, he choked on his water, spilling half of it down his shirt. Hacking into his hand, he turned away, aware that his face was most likely bright red. Kuro did nothing as he gasped and finally he cleared the burn in his sinuses. Sitting back, he still somehow managed to feel surprised when he was neither short of breath nor light headed. It must be true he didn't need to breath then, he thought numbly. Oh, sure, he'd tried going without several times when he was bored and on his own, but his instincts seemed to have survived along with his character and always around the two minute mark he panicked and sucked in a huge whooping breath ruining the experiment.

"What did you say?" He asked choppily, willing his voice to hold steady.

"I asked you what met its end on the kitchen wall."

"Ah. I threw a spatula covered in eggs at Hyde."

"I see."

There was a short, palpable beat of quiet as they stared at each other and then, suddenly, they both broke down, laughing into their plates. Mahiru took the brief lull in tension to study Kuro across the table, who was still chuckling softly as shook his head. He looked the same. Technically he had looked the same for several centuries, but to Mahiru it was something to be taken note of day to day. Seeing that despite his newly altered state, and Kuro's less than stellar response to it, he was not fraying completely apart at the edges, was a relief. He looked more tired, perhaps a little disenchanted beyond his usual veneer of casual distaste at the state of existence, but it was nothing that some ramen and a movie couldn't fix. The dawning hope that perhaps this was something he could still salvage bubbled up viciously in his chest and before he could stop himself he had reached across the table and grabbed Kuro's wrist.

"Do you want to-"

Kuro jerked back, ripping his arm free, and fixed Mahiru with a look of revulsion. In the loud static silence that followed, Mahiru could tell that he was finally going to lose the battle with his tears and just a second before they spilled down his cheeks he smiled, a fleeting brittle thing.

"Sorry." Was all he got out before he felt his face grow warm and wet and he saw Kuro's eyes widen in a stunning mix of astonishment and dismay. "I think I'm going to go to bed." Amazingly, the flood waters did nothing to shake his voice and the words were stark and clear in the needle like atmosphere of the kitchen. "Good night."

Unconsciously, he poured on a bit of his fascinating new preternatural speed and was at the kitchen door before he even knew what he was planning. As he turned the corner, deciding to throw himself under his quilt and sob and ponder until he could dredge up and piece together a way to fix this, a long fingered hand curled over his tightly clenched one. Freezing up, too scared to pull away but unable to look, he simply stood, his back to the quivering mass of warm nerves that was Kuro behind him. That gentle pine smell came to him again and he almost screamed in frustration; he could count on one hand the number of times they had been this close since that day. It had just been two weeks ago but it felt like a torturous eternity, Mahiru thought dizzily, how could it have only been two weeks since-

He glanced wearily over his shoulder and met Kuro's steel gaze.

-since he'd died.

"Mahiru."

His name on those lips was enough to pull a startled sob from his lungs and he felt his heartbeat, an inconsequential thing now, quicken, the unexpected sensation almost painful. Kuro reacted strangely, his brows pulling down, lips quirked in sardonic amusement, and he lifted his free hand slowly, so slowly to Mahiru's now heightened vision, and lightly touched the feather brown hair layered over his forehead.

"I'm sorry." He murmured, his fingers still resting between the strands. "I really am a monster."

The statement bounced around Mahiru's head, trying to find a definition, but it was to no avail and he frowned through his savagely drying tears. "What are you talking about?"

It was Kuro's turn to look confused, hand dropping to his side. "How could you even need to ask?" His voice broke in anguish, faltering back a step as though someone had struck him, and it was only surprise that kept Mahiru from reaching out frantically to pull him back in, closer. "Look what I've done to you."

Words failed Mahiru in his upset and so he only shook his head minutely, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"You're- you died." Kuro whispered haltingly. His hands came up to run through his hair in distress. "I couldn't even-"

"Hey, hey! Hold on just a second!" Mahiru exclaimed, finally finding his voice and lunging forward, digging his fingers aggressively, deeply, into Kuro's shirt in a mad attempt to keep him from running. "This isn't your fault! Kuro, what are you talking about?!"

Eyes flashing eerily in the dim evening lighting of the hallway, Kuro studied him solemnly. "Whose blood did you drink, Mahiru?" A tremor ran down Mahiru's spine and Kuro almost smirked. "And why did you drink it?"

"I-" Mahiru faltered, fear staining his hope a hazardous, familiar black, and ran his tongue across the two small teeth in his mouth that seemed to be the root of all this trouble and pain.

"That's what I thought."

The resignation in Kuro's voice broke the chains of dread tying him down and suddenly no worry or terror could be worse than the reality that Kuro thought he had somehow failed. "You're wrong." He said it too quietly, but was heard clearly all the same, both of them stilling as the street lights flickered on, bathing everything in a warm yellow. "It's my fault. Not yours. It's mine." He laughed brokenly. "It's my fault because- because I couldn't stand to lose you. I couldn't stand to think I'd never hear your voice again. That I'd never see y-you agai-" His tears had begun anew, pouring down his face in an unabashed flood. "I thought- that I couldn't leave you here alone. I thought that, all I wanted was to be with you." He reached out, running his trembling fingers over the thin, delicate skin of Kuro's neck in the place where just thirteen days ago he had ripped it open himself, and whispered what he'd been hiding. "So I took it from you."

In a fit of madness, Kuro threw back his head, the warm skin under Mahiru's touch pulling taut, and laughed. "You really think that?" He asked incredulously once he had managed a breath. "Are you shitting me?" Eyes wide, Mahiru started, staring up at him, perplexed. "Ah jeez, what a pain." Kuro sighed, running a hand over his face. "You really think you, laying there with a walnut sized hole through your puny chest and half your blood soaking the dirt, could in any way have taken something from me?" His tone was dangerous and Mahiru had to stop himself from faltering back in a kind of instinctual fear. "Mahiru. I gave it to you. I leaned over you like a weeping villain and pretended not to see my blood falling into your mouth. You were more than half gone, from the second you raised your arm and scratched me, I knew you were dead. I let it happen. I did it."

Something equally dangerous was unfurling and spreading in Mahiru, something hot and white and sharp and beautiful and he couldn't help the wavering smile that tiptoed across his face. "You mean you wanted-"

"What I want and what's right is not the same." Kuro interrupted him. "You're- you were- You should have grown up." He paused, watching Mahiru with a kind of empathetic mourning and suddenly he looked all of his six hundred years, head bowed under the weight of such an endless journey. "You should have grown up and graduated college, gotten a job, married, traveled, grown old. And now all you have is this half life, this pathetic excuse for living and it's all because I let myself grow complacent. I took from you, exploited you beyond what you offered and in the end I couldn't even save you."

Latching onto the only thing he currently had a response for, Mahiru shook Kuro's shoulders roughly, heedless of his recently unfettered strength. "You didn't exploit me! I wanted to help you!"

"You're still a child if you really believe that." He retorted, subtly rolling a shoulder and wincing. "You turned to me in desperation because-"

"Because you saved me! Of your own free will! You saved me and my friends lives! You did that, Kuro, you!" Mahiru shouted. "It had nothing to do with blood or contracts! It was you." He paused, waiting warily to see if Kuro would deny it. "And that you is my best friend. Everything I've done is because I wanted to. Everything has been because it's what I wanted."

"And dying?" Kuro asked tartly. "Was that what you wanted too?"

"I don't know what might have happened." Mahiru said quietly, loosening his iron grip on Kuro's shoulders, wondering if he'd accidentally cracked any of the bones in his panic. "But that doesn't matter because we can't change the past." He ran his hands over the lapels of the now worn denim Kuro had first appeared in. "And all that does matter is what we do from here on. Maybe I made the wrong choice. But I would do it again." He heard Kuro's little intake of breath and closed his eyes, smiling sarcastically. "Go on, call me stupid, or a hot headed moron. Maybe I am. But I'm not a liar."

Like ash from an angry gods volcano, deadly quiet filled the cracks and spaces in the room as they stood, like statues, facing each other in dawning comprehension. The first to move and break the spell, Mahiru sighed and stepped back, hoping that his expression didn't belie his turmoil and fear and heart wrenching love.

"So please don't ever call yourself a monster. Because you're my hero."

As though he were about to fall to the ground, Kuro stumbled, staring at Mahiru like he'd never seen him before. "What did you say?" He whispered, a hand clenching so tightly in his shirt that the fabric began to stretch. Stony and unflinchingly, Mahiru raised his chin, meeting Kuro's horrified gaze. "I said you're my hero."

"That's what I thought you said." He sounded winded, as though he'd run a hundred miles, looking pale beneath the moon glow tan fanning across his face. "I can't handle this."

The old worry came digging back into his bones and Mahiru winced, looking away. "Do you not-" He hesitated, unsure if he wanted the answer, but the question had taken on a life of it's own, twisting and slithering in his stomach, eating his sleep and peace of mind, and he pushed on. "Do you not want to, I mean, not want me around that long?" He laughed stiltedly, realizing how awkward the question sounded when spoken aloud.

Kuro opened his mouth, looking shell shocked for a moment, and then closed it again, shaking his head. "I'm not dignifying that with an answer. Mahiru, listen to me." He stepped forward quickly, instantly destroying the boundless distance that had at some point stretched between them. "What matters is, regardless of anything else, I should have protected you. I wanted you to live."

"I am alive!" Mahiru protested, brows furrowed in outrage. "I'm right here!"

"You're a vampire." Kuro said flatly.

"So are you!"

"Precisely." He enunciated each syllable as though speaking to someone hard of hearing, though they both knew Mahiru could now hear a pin drop across the room.

Frowning, Mahiru reached out, tugging on a lock of Kuro's forever unruly hair. "If you're implying that you yourself aren't alive, I find that very insulting. Not to mention you would be insinuating that I have made a mistake in judgement. To me you've never been anything but a very sturdy, very lazy guy who snuck his way into my house."

The crumbling, perpetual look of almost fearsome anguish that graced Kuro's delicate features suddenly began to transform, morphing into what a more distinguished member of society might call mortification, but to Mahiru just looked dumb and he couldn't stop the small chuckle that punched it's way out of his throat. Kuro shot him a sulky look, just further ruining his image and Mahiru covered his mouth, trying valiantly to muffle the full on laughter now leaking free.

"I'm sorry. I can't believe it, but I don't think I've ever seen you looking so embarrassed." He explained, smiling timidly. "Which is really saying something considering how long I've known you."

"I am a paragon of unflappable apathy." Kuro muttered distractedly, still staring at Mahiru with something akin to worry. "So you mean to tell me that you're fine with all this? Being murdered and turned into a vampire."

"I've been trying to tell you that from the beginning." Mahiru crossed his arms in annoyance. "But you seem to have trouble hearing over the sound of your own angst."

Kuro glowered at him, then frowned softly, his fingers digging and twisting in the ruins of his shirt. "I'm sorry, Mahiru."

"Me too." He said kindly. "But I'm not sorry to still be here with you."

What looked like a gentle blush misted over Kuro's cheeks before he shook his head. "No, I mean I'm sorry that I- I let this happen and then just ran from you. I left you to figure all this out on your own, when I should have been here to-"

"Don't worry about it." Mahiru cut him off, holding up a hand.

Kuro still looked unsure, the tendons of his fingers pulled tight against the creamy expanse of the backs of his hands; Mahiru couldn't seem to tear his gaze from them, wondering if his looked just as crystal perfect now too.

"I won't." Kuro said suddenly. "I won't let you suffer any more."

"So you'll help with the chores?" Mahiru asked brightly, smiling when Kuro blanched. "I'm just kidding. I know you can't be trusted to do the laundry." He made to turn, to wander back to the table, his hope that Kuro would follow an almost all encompassing fog, but stumbled when a hand tugged on his wrist, holding him back, and he glanced over his shoulder warily. "What is it?"

"How can you be real?"

He felt his brows raise in question, unsure how to interpret Kuro's words, and so settled for shrugging. "I don't think I'm all that special really."

"You're doing the impossible." Kuro insisted, leaning forward in earnest, his face open and wondering.

Mahiru laughed. "It's not impossible. I think I just have a better incentive than most."

"And what's that?" Kuro was still staring at him, but now he looked almost hopeful, as if he were hoping for the chance to hope, and Mahiru felt that dangerous something, so solid and bright and distracting, respond in kind, unfurling and reaching out to wrap around the endless, terrifying entity that was Kuro's existence. As though feeling it, Kuro took a small, indecisive step toward him, his eyes locked on Mahiru's like he feared if in looking away he would disappear into the void.

"Don't you know by now?" Mahiru asked softly, smiling as he turned back. "I think I've made it pretty obvious."

"You know I'm not good with all these guessing games." Kuro muttered, taking a half step forward.

"It's because you're too lazy." Mahiru snuck one foot forward as well, shyly.

"They're no fun." Kuro argued. Another step and he was almost directly in front of Mahiru, watching him cautiously from half lidded eyes.

"So only fun things keep your attention?" Mahiru said jokingly, reaching out and slowly sneaking his hand beneath Kuro's arm.

"Only things worth the effort." Kuro corrected, allowing his arm to be pulled up and almost wrapped around Mahiru.

"What kinds of things are worth the effort?" He took a final step forward, his other arm curling around Kuro's steady shoulders, the teasing touch of inhumanly soft hair tickling over his forearm.

"Don't you know by now?" Kuro echoed, his free hand coming to rest under Mahiru's chin and nudging his face up just a fraction. "I think I've made it pretty obvious."

"Just a bit." Mahiru conceded, raising up on his toes and bringing himself within reach, waiting.

The sudden, anticipated touch of Kuro's lips was like a jolt through his nerves and Mahiru almost gasped. Though he had thought that perhaps this was the course they had been set on, it was still a shock, something that he didn't think he could have expected even if he'd been warned. Unsure what to do, he remained still, allowing Kuro to slowly explore the fragile expanse of his lips in that gentle, probing way that only he seemed to possess. When he finally drew back, eyes clouded with both fear and a kind of deep ember passion, Mahiru smiled brightly, locking his fingers together behind his neck.

"Was that the answer to your puzzle?" Kuro asked quietly, tightening his arms around Mahiru's waist.

Pretending to think, Mahiru let his face pull into a faux pout, barely holding back a laugh when he noticed Kuro tracking the movement raptly. "Mmm, one of them, yes."

"And what are the others?" Kuro whispered, his breath ghosting across Mahiru's open mouth as he slowly drew back in as though pulled by a solid force.

"What if I made you guess?" Mahiru murmured, the movement brushing the sensitive skin of their lips together, mingling the colors of their shared essences.

"I suppose for you I'd be willing to try." Kuro fell forward, letting that blatant power that Mahiru had always sensed in him flow freely, pulling Mahiru's feet free of the floor and crushing the air from his lungs; if he'd wanted to, he wouldn't have had the ability to complain.

When he was allowed to fall back to the floor, his legs steady only though instinct, he sucked in a heady breath, rejoicing in that spicy sweet scent, now, finally, near enough for him to really experience. "Should I feel honored by your offer?" He asked mischievously. "You don't know what kind of guesses you'll have to make."

Kuro sighed, resting his chin on the top of Mahiru's head. "That sounds like a lot of trouble."

"Yes, it does." He agreed sagely, grinning. "But I have complete faith in you."

For the barest moment, Kuro froze, his back tensing under Mahiru's palms, but after a few frantic heart beats he relaxed and slid back a step, keeping a hand on Mahiru's forearm. "Don't you always." Their fingers soft around each other as he twined them together, he pulled Mahiru out and away from the dark kitchen, leaving the coffee pot to blink its soft red light into the approaching night.

#PHEEEEWWWW #well here's this #Servamp #Mahiru Shirota #Sleepy Ash #kuromahi #OH YEAH #my lifes true calling #servamp fanfiction #my writing #(you can find my comic under the tag my art if you're interested!)#vampire!Mahiru

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99nzheng · 5 years ago

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Can we take a moment to appreciate two lesbian couples Netflix did well?

I’m talking about Trepp x Myka in Altered Carbon Season 2 and Striga and Morana from Castlevania Season 3

Trepp is a bounty Hunter and Myka a former archaeologist. They are established, have a ten ish year old son together, are normal parents.... etc. They love, they have disagreements, care for each others’ wellbeing, and make sacrifices. It is beautiful and sweet.

Striga is a buff, badass, baddie who assumes the warrior role in Carmilla’s sisterhood of vampires that act as a ruling council. Morana is—- I don’t remember what she is. I think she was the one who saw “the present” according to Lenor. (I need to rewatch). Anyways... they obviously care deeply about each other but aren’t so over the top with public displays of emotion that it’s cheesy or cliché. They have normal moments like Morana worrying about Striga not getting enough sleep because she can’t stop thinking about battle strategies. Rather than bully her into coming back to bed, she helps figure out another solution. They have a scene on a balcony or ledge where they reminisce about how they met and were grateful for each other (among other topics). But overall... it felt so natural. They didn’t get all us and them, none of the other characters said boo about it or gave weird looks.

it wasn’t a mad game of cat and mouse chasing and running pulling hair and fighting. It wasn’t an endless charade if dubious flirtation that could be interpreted ten thousand ways. There was no stupid love triangle or drama or another character getting all gushy and going off about how they “saw it all along with their gaydar”. They were treated as every other relationship out there. And I think that is honestly the best approach. The subtle approach where nobody bats an eye. It’s been there for forever, and it will be for forever and it is normal. These couples can do whatever the fuck they want (as it should be). No extra drama necessary.

#altered carbon #castlevania #normalized #lgbtq #trepp x Myka #Striga x Morana #Castlevania Season 3 #Altered Carbon Season 2 #Lesbian Couples done well #thank you #for making it normal

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whumphoarder · 6 years ago

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Dad Level: 3000

Summary: Peter comes down with the flu while visiting the Stark family (and Happy) at the lake house during his spring break from MIT. Thankfully, Tony has been spending the last five years honing his Dad Skills™. He's got this.

Word count: 5,227

Genre: sickfic, hurt/comfort, fluff, whump

A/N: This story is set in March 2025. Morgan is five and Peter is 18 (but also 23 on paper, which totally isn’t confusing at all).

Most of the events of Infinity War/Endgame happened, except Captain Marvel did the snap with her mighty-glowing-lady-warrior-powers and so no one freaking died.

Thanks to @sallyidss and @xxx-cat-xxx for beta reading <3

Link to read on AO3

Tony walks into the kitchen Monday morning to see his five-year-old daughter standing on her tiptoes on a chair, attempting to reach a small cardboard box inside the open freezer.

“What is this, a heist?” he asks, moving towards Morgan. He loops an arm around her middle and lifts her into his arms, planting a quick kiss on the top of her head and causing the little girl to giggle. “I thought Mommy said no juice pops before noon.”

“It’s for Peter,” she says simply.

“Oh it’s for Peter, is it?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow. “And why does Peter need a juice pop at ten in the morning?”

“Because he doesn’t feel good and juice pops always make me feel better,” Morgan concludes.

Tony’s brow furrows, but he just steps closer to the freezer to allow her to reach into the box properly. Now that he thinks about it, Peter had seemed pretty wiped last night, but he’d brushed it off as midterm exam stress. “I think he likes the orange ones best,” he advises.

Morgan fishes out an orange popsicle and Tony lowers her back down to the floor. She skips off down the hall, around the corner, and all the way to the cabin’s guest bedroom where the kid has been staying for the past two days since MIT spring break had officially begun. Tony follows along, his frown deepening when she continues straight through the room and pushes open the slightly ajar door to the ensuite bathroom.

It’s a sorry sight indeed. Peter is slumped on the floor, propped up between the bathtub and toilet, eyes half-closed and his cheek resting on the edge of the bowl. One arm is wrapped around his stomach and he’s pale and sweaty.

Morgan, bless her heart, runs right over to him. “I got you a juice pop!” she says brightly.

Peter blinks up at her and then swallows thickly before offering her the weakest of smiles. “Oh. Thanks,” he croaks. “Uh, do you think you can do me a big favor and eat it for me?”

Spinning around, Morgan gazes up at Tony, her eyes big. “Can I?”

Despite his growing concern, Tony huffs out a quick laugh. “Sure, why not,” he agrees. Pepper is the one always reminding him to choose his battles after all. “We’ll just keep this one to ourselves.”

As Morgan unwraps the plastic from her popsicle, Peter closes his eyes tightly and swallows again, face draining even further of color.

Tony pats Morgan on the shoulder. “Hey, why don’t you go eat that with Uncle Happy? I’m gonna sit here with Peter for a little while.”

“Okay,” she agrees, spinning around on her heel.

The moment she’s gone, Tony’s attention turns back to his other kid, who is looking even more miserable now. “Not feeling so hot, huh?”

Peter shakes his head slightly, letting his eyelids squeeze shut again. “‘M’sorry,” he murmurs.

If Peter didn’t look so pathetic right now, Tony would have rolled his eyes. Instead, he just lets out a small sigh. “Not your fault, kiddo,” he assures. “You throw up?”

“Not yet,” Peter mumbles, then swallows again. “Just... feel really sick.”

“C’mon, Happy’s tuna casserole wasn’t that bad…” he tries to joke, but it falls flat when Peter doesn’t so much as smirk.

Tony steps further into the bathroom and crouches down beside the kid, wincing as his knees click in protest. “Is it just your stomach?”

“I dunno.” Peter shrugs tiredly. “Kinda ache all over...”

Tony places his hand on the back of Peter’s neck and instantly can feel the heat radiating off the kid’s sweaty skin. Peter shivers at the touch. “Your hand is really cold,” he complains.

“Nah, you’re just warm,” Tony disagrees, moving his hand to press to Peter’s forehead instead. He sighs and pushes himself back up to standing. “Think you’ll be okay here for a few minutes?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Peter croaks, looking a little guilty. “You really don’t have to stay. I know you’re busy…”

“Ah, see that’s the beauty of the retired stay-at-home-dad life,” Tony retorts, straightening back up to standing. “This is literally my job now.”

Before Peter has a chance to dwell too much on that response, Tony exits the room and heads to the master bathroom to locate the thermometer, and then to his lab to grab the bottle of spidey-kid-strength painkiller and fever reducer pills he and Bruce had concocted. Hopefully, they wouldn’t have to use them—he knows Peter hates the way the meds knock him on his ass and make his thoughts fuzzy and disconnected—but he figures it would be good to have them on hand just in case.

After making a quick detour through the kitchen for a can of ginger ale and some crackers, he heads back to the guest room, quickening his pace when he hears the telltale sound of retching and splashing issuing from the bathroom.

“Aw, Pete…” He winces in sympathy at the gagging boy. Peter’s nose is running and his eyes are red and wet with tears.

“Flu was going ‘round the dorm last week…” Peter moans as Tony sets the items down on the counter and wets a washcloth at the sink. “Thought I lucked out. Guess not.”

Tony places a hand on the kid’s sweaty t-shirt to start rubbing circles on his back. But he freezes instantly when he feels Peter tense up at the touch.

“You alright?” he checks, hand hovering just over the kid’s shoulder blades.

“Yeah,” Peter rasps. “Jus’... you never did that before.”

Tony recalls the handful of times he’d seen Peter sick during their time together before. Vomit has never fazed him—he’s had much too colorful of a past for that—but before he was definitely more inclined to offer a joke or a sarcastic remark than to settle for being a comforting presence. Funny what five years with a child who turns into a clingy octopus whenever she’s ill have done to him.

Then again, Morgan is in kindergarten while Peter is eighteen (or twenty-three, according to his birth certificate—it’s been over a year since Thanos and still no one seems entirely sure how to refer to the un-vanished). Maybe the Comforting Presence™ protocol is different for teenagers.

He is just about to offer to step out in order to give the kid some privacy when Peter interrupts his thoughts. “’S’nice,” he murmurs. “May does it too.”

Tony’s heart swells a bit. Then the moment is shattered when Peter suddenly sticks his head back over the toilet and starts gagging again.

“Alright, alright, get it all out…” With a small sigh, Tony lowers himself down to sit on the floor beside Peter and resumes rubbing his back.

When he’s finally finished, Tony flushes the toilet and Peter slumps back against the tub, his eyes closed. Instinctively, Tony lifts the washcloth up to wipe his messy face. Peter flinches at the contact and weakly reaches a hand up to take the cloth.

“Sorry, can do it myself,” he mumbles. “‘S’gross…”

Tony gives a quick snort. “Nah, you know what’s really gross? When I found Morgan’s secret booger stash on the side of her bedroom dresser.” He shudders dramatically.

Almost instantly, Tony regrets his comment when it triggers another round of heaving from Peter. “Sorry, kiddo,” he says as he rubs Peter’s back. “That was on me.”

This time when the spasms cease and Peter slumps back against the tub, he doesn’t bother protesting when Tony cleans his face and flushes the evidence away for him. Tony cracks open the can of ginger ale and passes it to the kid.

“Small sips, okay?” he instructs, reaching up to the counter for the thermometer.

“Can’t FRIDAY just tell you that?” Peter asks as Tony flips on the device.

“Morgan’s pediatrician convinced me this is more accurate,” Tony replies, inserting it in Peter’s ear. “Just be glad she’s graduated to the aural one now. You would not be happy about where this guy had me sticking it for the first year or so.”

“Huh?” Peter blinks at him. Then all of a sudden it seems to click and he groans, “Mr. Starrrk.”

The thermometer beeps. Still smirking, Tony lowers the device down to read the display. His grin falters for a second at the number.

“Wha’s it say?” Peter croaks.

“Nothing we can’t fix,” Tony replies briskly.

“But what’s it say?” Peter repeats. He weakly attempts to get the thermometer from Tony’s grip, but his mentor just holds the device out of his reach, lightly swatting the kid’s hand away.

Peter stares blankly at Tony for a second before glancing upwards. “What’s my temp, FRI?” he asks wearily.

“103.2,” FRIDAY reports.

Tony scoffs, finally flipping around the thermometer to show the ‘103.1’ displayed on the screen. “See? The doctor was right—manual is much better.”

Peter glances nervously at the orange pill bottle on the counter. “Does that mean I have to take the meds?” he whispers.

Tony hesitates for a second. While he knows 103 is not exactly life-threatening, it’s still a far cry from normal. “It would probably make you feel better if we could get it lower,” he reasons.

“It’s not worth it,” Peter mumbles. “They make me feel weird.”

“I wish we had something better for you, bud,” Tony says with a sigh. He considers their options for a moment. “Alright, how about we wait a while and see if it goes down on its own?” he suggests. “But if you hit 104, I’m making an executive decision.”

“Deal,” Peter croaks.

They sit there for a few more minutes, Peter taking deep breaths and looking like he might fall asleep right there against the tub. Finally, Tony’s stiff back protests. “How’s your stomach now?” he asks.

Without opening his eyes, Peter lifts a hand and makes a so-so gesture.

“Well, you seem pretty empty,” Tony goes on. “What do you say we move this party elsewhere?”

“Mm...‘kay,” Peter breathes. Tony pushes himself up to standing and helps him up, supporting him under the elbows. Peter sways on his feet. “Whoa…” he murmurs.

Tony quickly adjusts his grip to get a better hold on the kid. “You dizzy?” he asks.

“Kinda,” Peter admits. ”Just need a sec.”

When it seems like he can safely move without passing out, Tony helps him out of the bathroom and sits him on the edge of the bed.

“Let’s change your shirt, okay?” Tony says.

“Huh?” Peter glances down, for the first time seeming to notice how soaked with sweat his shirt is. “Oh. Yeah.”

Tony locates (what he hopes is) a clean t-shirt from the kid’s messy duffel bag on the floor and watches him pull it on. The simple act seems to take far more effort than usual.

“You wanna go back to sleep?” Tony offers.

Peter’s only response is a non-committal grunt. “Don’t think I can,” he admits. “Woke up at like, six. Couldn’t really fall back asleep.”

“Should we try the couch then?”

At the kid’s nod, Tony guides him out to the living room, keeping a firm grip around Peter’s upper arm for support. Morgan, Happy, and a staggering array of the five-year-old’s favorite toys are currently occupying at least two-thirds of the room’s large sectional sofa while reruns of Peppa Pig play on the TV.

“Peter!” Morgan exclaims when he comes into view. She hops down off the sofa and runs over to them while Happy stands up and starts clearing off some of the cushions to make room for Peter. “Is your tummy feeling better?” she asks. “Can you play now?”

Despite how miserable Peter looks, he manages to give her a half-smile. “Um, maybe in a little while…”

Tony takes pity on the kid and intervenes. “Peter’s not feeling that great, so how about we just watch a movie?” he suggests as he situates the teenager on the chaise section of the couch.

Morgan’s eyes light up. “Can we see Frozen 3?”

“God no,” Happy grumbles, sinking down into a nearby armchair. “That damn song with all of Olaf’s little frolicking snowball children was stuck in my head for a week last time.”

“There’s a Frozen 3 now?” Peter questions, his brow wrinkling. “There wasn’t even a Frozen 2 when I got dusted.”

“Yeah, well, global crisis or not, Disney marches on,” Tony retorts. He tugs a fuzzy blanket out of the stack in the wicker bin by the fireplace and tosses it to Peter, who gives a little grunt of thanks. “For the record, Cars 4 was better than Cars 2, but it was no Cars 3.”

“See, I think they peaked at Cars 5: European Adventure,” Happy argues.

“Nah,” Tony scoffs. “There were at least three too many roundabout jokes.”

“But Mater and Fillmore driving the Autobahn was peak comedy.”

Peter is still struggling to unfold the blanket, so Tony takes it back and shakes it open for him. “What are you in the mood for, kid?” he asks as he tucks it around Peter.

“Whatever you want,” Peter mumbles, leaning back against the pillows. He looks utterly exhausted—Tony figures he’ll be lucky to make it fifteen minutes into the movie before falling asleep. Best to go with something he’s already seen then.

“Lilo & Stitch?” he suggests.

The kids agree, Morgan with much more enthusiasm than Peter. Happy even gives his begrudging blessing on the basis that at least it’s ‘not another damn musical’.

(As if FRIDAY didn’t already have half a dozen audio recordings of him singing “Let It Go” in the shower).

Tony instructs FRIDAY to start the movie before heading back to Peter’s bathroom to gather all the supplies he left, and also snags the room’s small trash can because if there’s one thing he’s learned from Morgan, it’s that you can never be too careful.

Peter’s breathing has already evened out as the opening credits fade from the screen and Tony sinks down into the sofa beside him, and by the time Lilo explains why she can’t give Pudge a tuna fish sandwich, Peter is snoring quietly.

To Tony’s relief, Peter sleeps straight through the remainder of the movie, with Happy joining him somewhere around the halfway point. The moment the film ends, Morgan hops off the sofa. “I’m hungry,” she announces. “Can we have mac and cheese?”

Peter gives a low moan and stirs slightly in his sleep. Tony locks eyes with Morgan and presses a finger to his lips, tilting his head sideways in the boy’s direction.

Her eyes go wide with understanding and she tries again in a stage whisper (which honestly isn’t any better than her normal volume). “Can we have mac and cheese?”

Sighing, Tony pushes himself up to standing and prods her along to the kitchen. “Fine. But only if you eat a vegetable with it.”

Morgan grins. “Okay! I want corn.”

“Corn isn’t a real vegetable,” Tony grumbles. He steers them both into the room and moves towards the cabinet where they keep the pasta. “Pick something green.”

Her face falls for a moment. Then, just as quickly as they darkened, her eyes light up again. “Green jello!”

Tony rolls his eyes. He takes out a box of mac and cheese and then opens the fridge to take stock of what’s on hand. “You’re getting cucumber,” he says after a moment.

“I don’t like cucumber,” she pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.

Tony frowns at her. “But you said it was your favorite last week.”

“I don’t like it anymore,” she says simply. “It’s gross. Can we have pudding?”

“That’s the opposite of a vegetable,” Tony argues. “So if you’re eating that, now you have to have two vegetables.”

“Um… Potato chips?” she asks hopefully.

Tony runs a hand over his face in exasperation. “No, that’s not a—”

“Hey Tony?” Happy’s voice calls from the living room. There’s an edge of worry to it. “Can you come here?”

“Yeah, coming,” Tony replies, a feeling of dread already sinking in. He heads back to the living room, Morgan tailing along behind.

The sight awaiting him causes Tony’s heart to clench. Happy is standing over Peter, urgently shaking his shoulder while the kid moans incoherently and tosses in his sleep, clearly in the midst of a nightmare.

“He’s not waking up,” Happy says worriedly.

“I got it,” Tony says, quickly closing the distance between himself and the sofa. “Hey, Pete, naptime is over,” he commands as he taps Peter’s unusually warm cheek. “C’mon, rise and shine. I’d offer to make you some breakfast, but it looks like you’re already cookin’…”

It takes a moment, but finally Peter wakes. His eyes snap open and he sits up gasping.

“There we go,” Tony soothes, rubbing a hand down Peter’s arm. “You’re alright.”

Peter blinks at him. “...Mr. Stark?” Tears are already welling up in the kid’s eyes and falling before he can stop them. His breath hitches in his throat. “Oh god…” he sobs. “I thought… I-I was trapped and...”

“It’s okay.” He sits down beside Peter on the sofa and wraps an arm around him, pulling him into his side. Even six years out from the initial snap, Tony still has nightmares—he can only imagine what Peter must be going through. “You’re okay, you’re safe, just a dream,” he assures.

“Daddy?” Morgan asks nervously. Tony glances back and sees her standing just inside the room’s threshold, lip trembling.

“Hey, munchkin,” Tony says, giving her a forced smile. “Peter’s fine. You wanna go teach Uncle Happy how to make the mac and cheese? Don’t let him add tuna.”

Eyes still locked on Peter, Morgan nods slowly.

Happy moves over to take her hand. “C’mon, kiddo,” he says as he ushers her back to the kitchen. “And don’t listen to your daddy, tuna is a great source of protein…”

The moment they leave, Tony focuses his attention back on Peter, who is just now starting to get his breathing back under control.

“‘M’sorry…” Peter chokes out. “I just thought I was trapped there, and, and…”

“It’s okay, Pete,” Tony says gently. “You’re here with me, not on Titan, not in the soul stone. You’re safe.”

“Titan?” Peter asks, his brow wrinkling. “Wha’ about Titan?”

Tony frowns. “Your nightmare? Trapped on Titan, right?”

Peter’s tears have stopped now and he’s staring at Tony with glassy eyes. “Wasn’t on Titan,” he mutters. “Nick Fury found out I was a spider and sucked me up in a giant vacuum cleaner”—his breath hitches again—“an’ I was swirlin’ around and I couldn’t get out, and someone was chasing me with a giant spray can, and there was this cat but like, a monster cat, and—”

Okay, that wasn’t what Tony expected. He places a hand on Peter’s forehead and feels the heat pouring off of him. Taking the thermometer from the coffee table, he turns it on and sticks it in Peter’s ear.

When it beeps this time, the display reads 104.2.

Tony lets out a low whistle, already starting to untangle the blanket from around Peter. “Alright... guess we’re doing the meds now.”

Peter groans, rubbing a hand at his eyes. “Mr. Stark…”

“Nope, non-negotiable,” Tony replies. He grabs the pill bottle from the coffee table along with the package of crackers. “And you have to eat something so they stay down.”

Despite his grumbling, Peter takes the crackers Tony passes him and nibbles at them between sips of ginger ale. When he’s managed to get two down, Tony gives him the pill.

“I know you’re not a fan, but it’ll help with the pain too,” Tony promises.

“Hm, that’s good…” Peter croaks. “Have a headache. And my throat hurts.”

Tony hums in sympathy. “I can imagine.”

Stepping out, he wets a washcloth with cool water in the bathroom and returns to place it over Peter’s forehead and eyes.

Immediately, Peter lets out a sigh. “That’s really nice,” he whispers.

They rest like that for a few minutes until a small voice interrupts them. “Um, Peter?”

Peter lowers the cloth and both of them glance back to see Morgan padding into the room, a stuffed corgi dog plushie tucked under one arm, an orange popsicle clutched in the other hand. Happy is standing just inside the threshold, leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed casually.

“Hey.” Peter manages a half-smile.

“I got you another juice pop,” she says, handing it over. “And this is Korg, he’ll make you feel better,” she adds as she nestles the toy into the crook of Peter’s elbow.

“Korg?” Peter questions as his fingers fumble to unwrap the popsicle.

“Thor named him,” Tony replies. “Apparently he’s got a buddy with the same name—thought it would be hilarious when he learned what this breed was called.”

“Uncle Happy said you had a scary dream,” Morgan goes on, plopping down on the couch next to the boy.

Peter’s already fever-flushed face goes a little redder. “Oh, yeah. I guess it was kinda silly.”

“You can tell Korg about it,” she says, stroking the plush dog’s head. “He can’t laugh because he’s not real.”

Seeming caught off guard by that, Peter barks out a sharp laugh which quickly morphs into coughs, but Tony is glad because it’s the first real humor he’s seen from the kid all day.

While Happy and Morgan eat their mac and cheese—with tuna for Happy, peas for Morgan—Tony manages to cajole Peter into eating half a can of chicken noodle before the kid nods off with the spoon halfway to his mouth.

“Sorry...” Peter murmurs as Tony dabs the spilled broth off his shirt with a wad of paper towels. “Tired.”

Tony sighs. “Yeah, that would be the meds kicking in,” he says. He checks Peter’s temperature again and sees it’s down to 102.7 now. “At least they’re working.”

“Hmm…” Peter hums sleepily.

“Let’s go ahead and move you to your real bed,” Tony decides. “It’ll be more comfortable to stretch out.”

“Hmm…” he says again.

Tony hoists the wobbly boy to his feet, supporting him under his arm. “You should probably have a shower when you wake up, but I’m thinking it’s a safety concern at the moment.”

“Hmm…”

“Okay, not in the chattiest mood, I get it…”

Tony shuffles him back to the guest room and changes his shirt again. Then he helps Peter crawl into bed and pulls the covers up around him.

“Alright underoos, take a nap,” he says softly. “I’ll keep the little troublemaker from bothering you.”

“Hmm... and Morgan too?” Peter murmurs.

“Smartass,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “Keep an eye on him, FRI,” he commands the AI. “Sleep well, kid.”

After fixing himself his own lunch, Tony spends the next two hours alternating between entertaining a rambunctious five-year-old and trying to catch up on his backlog of SI paperwork for Pepper. He’s sitting at the kitchen table with Morgan, watching her color a page out of her Frozen 3 coloring book, as he skims through yet another proposal on his tablet. That’s when FRIDAY’s voice comes over the speakers.

“Boss, Peter’s temperature has just reached 103 degrees. He is awake and appears to be in distress,” FRIDAY reports.

“Shit,” Tony mutters, getting to his feet.

“You said only Mommy can say that word,” Morgan complains as she colors Elsa’s hair bright purple.

“Yeah, yeah, I was just borrowing it from her,” he mutters. “I’m gonna go check on Peter, okay?”

She nods, still coloring intently. “‘Kay.”

Tony hurries out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the guest bedroom, fully prepared to talk Peter down from another nightmare. What he’s not prepared for is the sight that awaits him.

Peter is sitting up in bed, hunched over himself and trembling. Liquidy vomit is running all down his shirt and soaking into the comforter.

“Aw, bud…” Tony sighs, quickly moving over to the bed. “You really go all out, don’t you?”

Peter doesn’t even look up. His breaths are coming out far too quick, and he’s mumbling something under his breath.

Tony places a hand on his shoulder, causing Peter to jerk his head up, revealing the tear tracks trailing down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Tony asks in alarm.

“S-Sorry…” Peter chokes out. “I just, for a minute, I didn’t know where I was. Called for May and she didn’ answer, so thought I was at the d-dorm, but this isn’t a bunk bed, an’ then I thought I was in the stone but it’s not orange, and then I felt sick but I couldn't get up fast enough, and I just—”

(Okay so the PTSD was just a bit delayed.)

“You’re okay, you’re fine,” Tony assures, rubbing a hand up and down over the kid’s back. “You’re here at the lake house and you’re safe.”

“’M’sorry…” Peter sniffs, hanging his head. “This is dumb, maybe I should just have May come pick me up”—his nose is dripping and he sniffs again—“you shouldn’t have to take care of me when I’m being all gross”—sniff—“a-and...”

Absently, Tony pulls several tissues from the box on the nightstand and holds them to Peter’s messy face. “Blow.”

Peter goes silent and Tony freezes as the realization of what he’s just done sinks in.

Tissues still pressed to his nose, Peter raises an eyebrow to his mentor. “D-Did… Did you just tell me to blow my nose?”

Tony recovers quickly. “C’mon, it’s swallowing all that crap that’s making you feel sick in the first place,” he points out. “Now blow.”

So Peter does.

Tony lowers the used tissue back down and tosses it into the trash can. “Better?”

Looking mildly traumatized, Peter deadpans, “Iron Man just wiped my nose.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll live,” Tony dismisses him with a hand wave. Then in a more gentle tone, he asks, “Now do you really want to go home? Because I get it if you do, but I promise, I really don’t mind taking care of you. And with your healing, you’ll probably be feeling better in another day or so. There’ll still be plenty of your break left.”

Peter hesitates. “I dunno. I mean…” He shrugs. “I guess, I don’t really want to leave, but…” he trails off, sounding conflicted.

After a moment, Tony intervenes. “Okay, here’s an idea,” he suggests, as casually as he can manage. “You’re looking a little more steady now, so how about I run a load of laundry and you go take a shower? You can call May after and decide what you want to do. Then we’ll go from there.”

A look of relief instantly washes over Peter at the suggestion. “Yeah, that sounds good,” he whispers. “Thanks.”

During the next half hour, Tony checks on Morgan—who is contentedly playing with toys on her bedroom floor—before stripping Peter’s bed and running a load of laundry. When he reenters the guestroom, he finds Peter sitting on the bare mattress in fresh pajamas and with wet hair, looking much more relaxed.

“How’s May?” Tony asks.

Peter shrugs. “Her shift just ended. She said she’s sorry I’m sick.” He pauses for a beat. “Also said she’s not surprised, given all the all-nighters I pulled during the last two weeks and the fact I’ve been mostly living off cereal, ramen noodles, and Fig Newtons this semester.”

Tony snorts out a laugh. “Yeah, that’ll do it.” According to FRIDAY, the lukewarm water of the shower has had the added benefit of bringing Peter’s temperature down to just over 102 and he’s looking significantly better for it. “Still wanna bail on us?”

Peter shakes his head, a bit sheepish. “Not if you don’t mind me staying.”

“Nah, ‘course not,” Tony assures. “Now you wanna go see if Morgan’s up for another movie yet?”

Peter agrees and the two of them shuffle upstairs. As they approach the landing, they can hear muffled voices issuing from the little girl’s bedroom.

“Do you want some more?” Morgan’s voice floats down the hall.

“Yeah, fine. Two sugar, no cream…” a gruff voice replies. “And one of those cookies.”

“No, no you have to call it a biscuit,” she insists, her tone just bordering on a whine. “Mommy says that’s more fancy.”

“It’s a double-stuffed Oreo,” Happy grouses. “It’s a goddamn cookie.”

Peter shoots his mentor a perplexed look. Tony just gives a shrug in return as he pushes Morgan’s door open and then they both immediately pause.

Happy glances up at them from where he’s seated cross-legged on the floor beside the kiddie table. One of Pepper’s silk scarves is wrapped around his shoulders making some sort of shawl, and he’s wearing Morgan’s flowery sun hat with several of her homemade plastic beaded necklaces hanging around his neck. Meanwhile, Morgan sits in the chair to his right, pouring pretend tea from her little plastic teapot into a tiny cup.

Peter leans closer into his mentor’s side. “I think my fever went up,” he whispers. “I’m hallucinating.”

Happy shrugs. “What can I say? She makes a mean chamomile.” Pinching the minuscule handle of his teacup between his thumb and forefinger, pinky raised, he lifts it to his lips and mimes taking a sip.

“Do you guys wanna join us?” Morgan asks hopefully. She’s dressed in her yellow Princess Belle dress and her hair is sporting a loose braid that definitely wasn’t there last time Tony saw her.

Peter hesitates a second, looking into the little girl’s wide eyes. Then he lets out a small sigh. “Well, May did say I should be drinking more fluids…” he mutters as he moves towards the kiddie table, Tony following along behind.

When Pepper arrives home from work just past seven that evening, she finds Peter, Tony, and Happy passed out on the sofa and snoring softly amid an array of Morgan’s plush toys. The little girl sits beside them with a bowl of popcorn nestled in her lap, intently watching Frozen 3 on the room’s massive TV.

“Mommy!” Morgan greets, hopping off the sofa and running over to her.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Pepper says as she scoops the five-year-old up in her arms. She gazes around the room, taking in the interesting fashion choices on display. It seems half of her accessory drawer has been commandeered to adorn the three men on the sofa.

Morgan’s full plastic tea service—now complete with Gatorade in the teacups and Saltine crackers on the plastic saucers—has been moved to the living room coffee table. Besides the dishes, the table also contains the thermometer, an empty soup bowl, and a box of tissues, and on the floor in front of the couch is a lined trash can. “What happened here?” she asks.

“Peter didn’t feel good, but Daddy took his temperature and gave him medicine and I got him juice pops,” Morgan reports. “And then we had tea and I gave Uncle Happy and Daddy makeovers.”

Pepper peers closer, noticing the two older men’s nails are painted with sparkly lilac-colored polish and their cheeks are looking a bit more glittery than normal.

“Good girl,” Pepper praises, giving her a quick kiss on her forehead. “Looks like you all took good care of each other.”

Fic Masterlist

For more fluffy illness, try:

Give the Kid an Oscar

Bedridden Spider

Sick as a Bug

#sick peter parker #peter parker whump #irondad fic #spiderman fic #flu #fluffy illness #sickfic #morgan stark #my fic

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rocksandrobots · 5 years ago

Text

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 3 - The First Day (part 1)

Wasabi awoke to little tiny hands patting his face. He opened his eyes and saw the raccoon, Ruddiger, perched on top of his chest and staring intensely back at him, snout inches from his face. He yelled and bolted upright at the sight; startling the creature and awaking the sleeping boy on the couch.

Last night Wasabi had come back from the laundry room and found Varian already asleep curled up on the sofa. The raccoon was digging into the box of pizza on the table. Annoyed that his dinner was now contaminated by raccoon germs he placed the critter and the rest of the pizza inside the bathroom, along with a makeshift bed out of the wet towels that the stranger had used to shower with. Feeling he had fulfilled his promise of making the raccoon comfortable he then securely shut the door to the bathroom, covered the sleeping boy with a blanket, scarfed down a cream cheese bagel, and then went to bed.

It would have appeared that he didn’t close the door tightly enough because at some point during the night the raccoon had managed to open it and escape.

Wasabi groaned in frustration and looked at the clock next to his bed. Nine in the morning; the gang would be meeting soon at the Lucky Cat for breakfast, if they hurried they could be there at around ten thirty or eleven at the latest.

He threw on a sweater and some pants on top of his sleepwear and went down to retrieve the laundry from last night. Varian asked to come along and see the machines that cleaned the clothes. He was all questions, just like the night before. Wasabi tried to patiently answer them all as he folded the laundry before carrying the now clean clothes back upstairs.

While the kid went into the bathroom to change back into his old attire; Wasabi looked up a number for a local veterinarian office.

-------------------

Varian came out of the washroom to find Wasabi talking into a thin black box that he held to one ear.

“Are you sure Monday is the earliest you have available?”, he heard the taller man say with a bit of desperation in his voice. Wasabi then paused, as if listening to another voice coming from the box, before continuing on. “Alright then I’ll bring the raccoon by, at around nine, see you then. Thank you and have a nice day.” He then removed the box from his ear and pressed his thumb to its screen, apparently turning it off and ending the conversation. That’s when he noticed Varian.

“It’s like seventy degrees out today. Are you sure you want to be wearing a heavy coat and gloves?” He asked, taking note of Varian’s full Saporian garb.

“I find it completes the aesthetic.” Varian said, cupping his chin with his finger and thumb and raising his eyebrow and giving a crooked smile. Desperately trying to come off as suave and smooth as he said it.

“What aesthetic? Steampunk pirate?” Wasabi responded back with deadpan sarcasm.

“What’s steampunk?” Varian sincerely asked, ignoring the other man’s snark.

“Nevermind, we’re taking you clothes shopping today anyways.” He said with a shake of his head.

“Umm, not to sound ungrateful but, why?”

“Because there’s no telling how long you’re going to be here and I’m not washing your dirty clothes every single day.”

“You don’t need to wash clothes every day.” Varian half laughed while rolling his eyes.

“Uh-uh! We don’t do that here! You ain’t wearing the same clothes day in and day out without cleaning them. You need at least seven outfits, one for each day of the week, probably even more than that if I’m being honest” Wasabi retorted back in all seriousness.

“Sounds excessive, but okay.” Varian replied skeptically. He couldn’t understand why anyone would need more than two or three different sets of clothes, some made due with only one set. Only royals and other insanely wealthy individuals had wardrobes that large. But Varian wasn’t going to argue, after all Wasabi had done so much for him already, who was he to complain about receiving new clothes?

“Before that we gotta make a stop at the pet shop and find that raccoon of yours some new sleeping arrangements. He somehow broke out last night and we can’t have that happening again. After that we’re meeting the rest of the guys at Aunt Cass’s for breakfast.”

Varian didn’t know who “Aunt Cass” was, but he didn’t ask anymore questions as the thought of a good breakfast started to override his normal curiosity.

“Come here buddy” Varian gently coaxed his pet. He picked the raccoon up in his arms and followed Wasabi out the door and down the stairs back to the car.

-------------------

If Varian had thought the city was impressive at night it was even more overwhelming during the day. Cars and people were everywhere. San Fansokyo bustled and teemed with life. Never had Varian seen so many crowds of people,so many buildings, nor so many new inventions all at once. Not even in Corona’s capital.

Wasabi pulled to a stop next to a squat brick building on the side of the street. It had a sign above the top of the building that in big large letters read, “PET TENPO”, and underneath those, in smaller type, were symbols from a language Varian didn’t recognized.

“Here we are.” Wasabi said cheerfully, he turned the car off and got out. Varian followed suit.

The pet store was a small establishment packed full with shelves stuffed with various merchandise. Towards the front counter there were cages with exotic birds and at the back of the store were large tanks full of colorful fish. Ruddiger took a particular interest in these and tried to escape Varian’s grasp and climb the tanks in order to get at the tasty morsels swimming about.

“Ruddiger get down!” Varian snatched the raccoon off the top aquarium in embarrassment, before any harm could be done.

Wasabi didn’t notice. He was already gathering up the items they would need; pet bed, cat carrier, a cat leash, one that went around the animal’s waist so as not to choke it, a large dog kennel to sleep in, litter box with litter to go with it, flea powder, and finally both a bag of dog food and a can of cat food; as Wasabi had no idea what to feed the thing. He figured they would just try both and see what would come of it.

“See anything else we might need?” Wasabi asked as they went to the counter to pay for the items.

“Hmmm..” Varian gave a last glance around the store, not entirely sure what he was looking for but he couldn’t help feeling like something was missing. Then he spied a large sawed off tree branch next to the caged birds. He placed Ruddgier on the counter and went to pick it up. It was a lot lighter than he expected and hollow but it seemed sturdy.

Wasabi gave him a curious look. “He likes to climb trees,” Varian explained, “Maybe we can put this up somewhere for him to play on.”

“Ok.” Wasabi shrugged and added it to the pile of other stuff. Once everything was paid for they carried it back to the car and placed it all into a compartment at the back of the vehicle. All but the leash, that is, which Wasabi handed to him to put on the raccoon. Then they hopped back into the car and were off again.

-------------------

They arrived at the cafe fashionably late.The others no doubt were already in the middle of eating. Wasabi paralleled parked in front of the three story house turned eatery. No sooner did he push the gear into park then did Ruddiger scurry across the dash over to him to look out the driver side window.

Wasabi turned his head to see what had caught the raccoon’s interest. Sitting on the roof was yet another raccoon. This one with a lighter brown coat. It looked at the newcomers for a bit before turning around and running off.

Great more vermin. Wasabi thought to himself as he rolled his eyes. Out loud though he only said. “Why don’t you take him for a walk before bringing him inside? Let him blow off some energy. Just keep to the sidewalk and don’t go too far.”

Varian nodded his head in agreement and grabbed the raccoon and pulled him away from the window. Once outside the car he put the pet down and held on to the other end of the leash, allowing the critter to pull him along any way it chose. Wasabi took this as an opportunity to forewarn his friends.

He found the gang inside all sitting together around a table eating breakfast.

“Hey, Wasabi. Where’s the new kid, Varian, wasn’t it?” Fred greeted him, waving at him from where he sat as Wasabi made his way over to them.

“Guys you won’t believe the night I’ve had.” He vented.”This kid; he doesn’t know anything about electricity, indoor plumbing, cars, has never had a vaccine….” Wasabi rattled off all the weirdness he had to put up with since the stranger had arrived, visibly counting down the number of offensives to good hygiene and common sense he had had to deal with. “ But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is, he has a pet ra–”

“A raccoon!” Honey Lemon squealed with joy, cutting Wasabi off. He stopped to look at her but she was already out of her chair and bounding away to the front entrance where Varian had just walked in carrying his pet in his arms.

-------------------

“Oh, a raccoon! He’s so adorable. Can I hold him?” The tall girl breathlessly said in wonderous delight while reaching her hand out to pet Ruddiger. It took a moment for Varain to recognize her as the pink suited knight from last night, but her cheery voice gave her away.

“Sure” Varian agreed and handed his pet to her. She giggled and cradled the raccoon in her arms like a baby, all the while cooing compliments and scratching under his chin and behind his ears. Ruddiger seemed very pleased with the attention and Varian couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. Few people wanted anything to do with his pet, let alone cuddle him.

Varian then looked past her to Wasabi and the other knights sitting around the table. Only without their armor, they looked less like warriors and more like regular teenagers like himself. All, that is, save for the large white pillowy creature beside them.

The creature stood as tall as a man and only had two black coal eyes, no nose or visible mouth, and a large bulging body with stubby legs. It was completely white and the impression it gave Varian was that of a snowman come to life. He walked towards the creature transfixed, curious as to what it was.

“Say hello to Baymax. You met him last night, but he looks a little different out of his armor.” The boy named Hiro said bemusingly.

“Baymax? The knight? Oh, I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to stare.” Varian stammered out this apology, embarrassed once again that he didn’t understand the inner workings of this world. He knew staring at people was rude and he no doubt just offended the being before him.

“No need to apologize. I am a robot and therefore can not get offended.” The creature said in his usual clipped voice. It strangely sounded human and yet somehow artificial and emotionless at the same time. Varian found it a little off putting.

“A robot?”

“It’s artificial intelligence, a machine made to perform human-like tasks.” Hiro explained.

“Ooooh…Like an automaton!” Varian said as realization dawned on him. “I’ve never seen one that can talk before! That’s amazing!”

“Wait! You don’t have electricity or indoor plumbing but you have robots in your world?” Wasabi said, not believing what he was hearing.

“Yeah, we call them automatons.”

“Well, ok then,” Wasabi said with a shrug of resignation, officially giving up trying to make sense of Varian and his world.

“But if you don’t have electricity then what do the robots run on?” The tall girl joined in on the conversation, taking a seat at the table once more while still holding Ruddigger.

“Well originally they ran on clockwork. They had a wind up mechanism like a music box,” Varian excitedly explained, “But I improved the design with Flynomium!” He paused for dramatic effect.

“What’s that?” the blonde boy, Fred said, giving Varian just the very question he was looking for.

“It’s a chemical compound of my own design. It generates steam when it comes into contact with water.” He proudly proclaimed.

“Sooo they’re steam powered. Then how does the compound work?” The short girl, Gogo asked.

“Well, when Flynnolium comes in contact with water it quickly dilutes creating an exothermic reaction caused by the dissociation of ions.”

“Oh, like sodium hydroxide!” The tall girl, Honey Lemon, cheerily chimed in.

“Exactly, in fact lye is one of the components in Flynnolium along with…with..” Varian stopped and stared at the red-headed girl as what she had just said sunk in. She not only had kept up with his scientific explanation but even was able to pinpoint one of its main components just from his description alone. Varian had never met anyone who could do that. In fact most people got bored, irritated, or confused by his scientific ramblings. He then looked around at the other teens sitting at the table. They all were intently looking at him, completely engrossed by what he had to say, not giving any indication they were lost or annoyed by his lecture.

“Go on, we’re listening.” Gogo encouraged him, noting the sudden silence from him.

“You..you’re all scientists?” Varian asked.

“Well I’m not. I’m just a science enthusiast, but all these guys are” Fred happily pointed out.

“We all attend the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology; we also call it the nerd school.” Hiro explained. “I’m a robotics major, Honey Lemon is a chemical engineer, Wasabi is an expert in quantum optics, and Gogo is a double major in mechanical engineering and industrial design.”

“And I’m the school’s mascot!” Fred shouted enthusiastically.

“So you’re all scientists and knights?”

“Ooooooh knights, I like it! Honorable warriors defending their home from outside threats, only to discover that the real threats are from the inside.” Fred said with an air of mysterious ominousness, as if about to launch into a story.

“Yeah something like that,” Hiro said, waving off the older teen’s over-eagerness. “We use our scientific knowledge to build our armor and weapons in order to protect the city from criminals that the regular police can’t handle. But we try to keep it on the down low. Not many people know what we do, especially my aunt, so I have to ask you to not tell her or anyone else about our knightly escapades, please.”

Varian promised his secrecy.

“Thanks, if Aunt Cass ever found out, she’d never let me out of the house again. Also you might not want to tell everyone that you’re from another world while we’re at it.”

Just then a petite woman with short brown hair walked in carrying two plates of pancakes, interrupting their conversation. She smiled widely at the sight of Varian and set the plates down at the table.

“Oh who’s this? A new friend?”

“This is Varian, he’s a new foreign exchange student at SFIT.” Hiro explained, already giving Varian a cover story. “Varian, this is my Aunt Cass. He starts this new semester and we’re showing him around.”

“Oooh exciting! So you’re new to America then?”

Varian nodded.

“Well let me treat you to an all American breakfast, make you feel at home.” She clasped her hands in excitement. “ How do you feel about pancakes with blueberries?”

“That sounds great, thank you.” Varian replied awkwardly. He wasn’t used to people being genuinely nice to him and the enthusiasm with which the woman greeted him, while appreciated, made Varian feel self-conscious.

“Splendid! Do you want any coffee to go with it, or would you prefer orange juice?”

“Coffee sounds nice.”

“Sugar, cream? How would you like it?” She was slipping into customer service mode which made Varian feel even more awkward as the questions kept coming.

“Black?”

“Ok. I’ll go get that for you.” She sailed away to the counter to grab a coffee pot and cup and Varian sat down at the table next to Honey Lemon. When the woman returned she placed the cup next to him and began to pour the coffee while continuing with what she thought was more small talk.

“So where are you from?”

“Old Corona” Varian said unthinkingly, feeling even more uneasy as the woman began to serve him. He wasn’t used to people doing things for him either. However he realized his mistake as soon as he noticed the apprehension in Hiro’s eyes.

“Old Corona?” Aunt Cass repeated the words back in confusion, “Oh, where’s that?”

“Europe.” Varian hoped that would be explanation enough, but he feared he was digging himself into even more of hole.

“Oh what part of Europe, near France or Italy?”

Varian at least had heard of those places so he tried formulating an answer based on that. “It’s northeast of France, near the sea,” hoping a vague truth would ease the questioning.

“Oh so like near Poland and the Ukraine, one of those old Soviet countries? I’m afraid I was never good at geography. It doesn’t help that everything keeps changing, I still remember when there were two Gremanys on the map at school.” She said, trying to laugh off her lack of knowledge on the subject.

Now Varian was completely lost, most of those places he had never heard of before and, another world or no, he couldn’t for the life of him think of any reason why there would be two countries with the same name. He just simply couldn’t think of anything to respond with and silence fell over the group as Aunt Cass and he blankly stared at each other.

Hiro swooped in to end the awkwardness, “You made yourself feel old again didn’t you?” He said to his aunt in a gently teasing manner, a sly smile creeping across his face.

“Yep,” Aunt Cass responded; now starring pass Varian as if looking at her own mortality.

“Do you wanna go get those pancakes and exit this awkward conversation?” He suggested.

“Yep,” Aunt Cass gave a brief nod of agreement and promptly twirled around and headed back into the kitchen.

Everyone visibly relaxed after she left, having narrowly avoided any more awkward questions and explanations. Everyone but Varian who now felt both embarrassed and guilty. He took a sip of the coffee she had just given him, hoping no one would notice his face turning red. At least it was good coffee though. Something Varian hadn’t had in ages.

Fortunately everyone seemed to be eager to move on from the whole affair, and Honey Lemon was the first to change the subject.

“Your pet is adorable. What’s his name?”

“Ruddgier,” Varian said, relieved that no one was focusing on his latest screw up.

“Where did you even get him?” Gogo asked.

“Oh I rescued him from a rabbit snare. Poor thing got his paw snagged trying to steal apples from our orchard. He hasn’t stopped following me around or breaking into our food stores since.”

Honey Lemon looked at him disquieted, “A rabbit snare? That’s awful.”

“I know, right? I mean they’re fine for catching rabbits but anything could get caught in them if you aren’t careful. That’s why I tried creating a chemical compound that could more humanely trap pests.” He was now getting excited again. He wanted to talk more about science with the pretty girl who understood chemistry as well as he did, but she unfortunately couldn’t move on from the snare traps.

“But why would you want to catch bunny rabbits?” Honey Lemon bemoaned in confusion.

“To stop them from getting to our crops. My village is a farming town.” Varian explained. To him it was just natural. A part of everyday life. He could understand her displeasure over using snares, he didn’t like them either, but not her objections to the act of catching the animals themselves. She just stared at him wide-eyed in response though. Perhaps she needed more clarification as to what was done with the rabbits.

“And we also eat them afterwards.” He hoped that would be enough to quail her concerns; that they weren’t just killing small creatures for no reason at all. He was wrong.

“You eat rabbits!?” She asked, horrified.

“A lot of people eat rabbits.” Gogo interjected in his defense. “They even sell frozen rabbit meat at the grocery store.”

“Yeah, it’s what hossenfeffer is made from.” Fred pitched in.

“You’ve had hossenfeffer before?” Wasabi asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, once. Remember my mom likes to take us to those fancy dinners with all the weird food.”

Honey Lemon however looked like she was about to cry at this new information and Varian was simply trying to make sense of her discomfort and why this might not be common knowledge.

“Oh, I guess living in a big city like this you can just go to the market and pick up your dinner?” Varian guessed, trying to ease the tension and offer understanding. “That must be nice. It’s no fun having to butcher your own meat…that’s… that’s just.. unpleasant ….” He trailed off and began to stare into the middle distance as if haunted by bad memories. Awkward silence fell upon the group once more as they all stared back at him in concern, unsure of how to proceed. He really was from a different world from their own.

Fortunately Aunt Cass returned with more pancakes dispersing the disquiet that had befallen the group. She placed a plate of pancakes in front of Varian who began eating almost immediately to distract from the growing embarrassment he felt. They were delicious, a lot fluffier and buttery than the ones he used to make when he was still living in Old Corona. They were also topped with blueberries and a sweet cream. Along with the hot coffee; it was the best meal Varian had had since leaving prison.

“You want some maple syrup?” Hiro asked, sliding a little glass dispenser with a metal top over to him.

“Maple?” Varian quizzed. The syrup was dark and thick, similar to molasses or treacle, and every bit as sweet. Almost too sweet for Varian, but he poured just a little onto the top of the stack of flat cakes so as not to seem rude. He had caused enough awkwardness for the day.

After a time, Aunt Cass came over to refill everyone’s drinks and to see if they needed anything. While there she tried to strike up yet another conversation with Varian. She wanted to know more about who her nephew was hanging out with.

“So Varian, you don’t look much older than Hiro. Did you also get accepted into college early?” She asked as she poured him more coffee.

Varian wasn’t sure how to respond, he didn’t know that there was an accepted time frame for universities here nor what the qualifications for that time frame would normally be. However he saw Hiro sitting across from him, nodding his head vigorously while his aunt’s back was turned to him.

“Yeah,” Varian hoped he sounded more confident then he felt.

“Oh, your parents must be so proud then.” She cheerfully said.

Those words, as kind as they were, sent Varian’s stomach plummeting to the ground. For the briefest of moments he was right back in that cold laboratory next to the dimly glowing amber. Crying on the floor while the snow fell outside.

Varian swallowed hard and tried to force those images out of his head. It wouldn’t do to start tearing up in front of a bunch of strangers, nor to say anything that could lead to awkward questions about his past.

“It’s.. It’s just me and my dad, and I..I would hope he is.” Varian explained, hoping that would be an acceptable answer for the woman.

“I’m sure he is.” Aunt Cass told him reassuringly. “I’m guessing he’s still in, Corona, was it?” She continued.

Varian nodded and then looked down at the plate of pancakes the woman had given him. He’d eaten a little over half of them, but the reminder of his father had left him with little appetite.

“Thank you for breakfast. It was delicious.” He said, hoping to either change the conversation or excuse himself altogether.

He stood up and grabbed the plate. “Where do I wash this at?"

Aunt Cass gently laughed at that question. "Oh that’s very sweet of you, but you don’t have to do the dishes. You just go on and enjoy your day."

"Yeah we’re about to head out,” Hiro chimed in.“We’re going to go to the mall today."

"Ok. Y'all have fun.” His aunt said and began to gather up the plates.

Varian felt a little guilty leaving her with all the work of cleaning up, but she had insisted otherwise and the others were already starting to leave. Varian told her thank you once more and waved goodbye. She flashed him a warm smile in return as he left.

#tangled the series #varian #BH6 the series #hiro hamada #tts #tangled #bh6 #aunt cass #wasabi #ruddiger #honey lemon #gogo #fred #of rocks and robots

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thepurplebutterflythings · 5 years ago

Text

Curiosity Killed The Part (Part 1) - Gar Logan

Gif: Unknown on Tenor

Word Count: 3.3K

Paring: Gar Logan x (f)Reader

Summary: When Rachel made plans to go to Themyscria, she made sure to invite Gar. Growing up on Themyscria, Y/N didn’t know much about the land of man, and so, obviously, was curious.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY @ninergirl1d!!!!! HOPE YOU ENJOY PART 1 OF YOUR BIRTHDAY PRESENT!!!!

Masterlist

Requested: @ninergirl1d

________________________________________________________________

When Rachel had invited him to accompany her to Themyscira of all places, Gar couldn’t believe it. Of course he said yes. It was Themyscira! What moron wouldn’t agree to that? He also just wanted to get away, away from everything that had happened.

“How much longer are we on this boat for?” Gar asked as he leaned over the side of the boat they were on. It had been a long, seemingly endless journey as it was, but the ship was pushing Gar over the edge. He wanted to throw up violently, but he had already emptied his stomach from vomiting. There was nothing left to bring up, and he was having trouble eating on the boat as well. The sooner they got to Themyscira, the better. The first thing Gar was going to do was hug and kiss the ground beneath his feet. It was something he had taken for granted, the solid ground, but not anymore.

“Not much longer,” Rachel said, looking at the words in the book in front of her. “According to this, we just got to go through that,” she pointed in front of her. Gar looked and groaned again, leaning his head over the rails again. Of course, the only way to get to Themyscira was through a storm. Protecting the Amazons from whatever dangers wanted to attack them.

“I’m going to lay down before my legs give way and I fall off.”

“Good idea,” Rachel nodded, eyeing Gar and seeing him pale before her eyes. The last thing this trip needed was Gar going overboard and Rachel having to rescue him.

Gar groaned and waved faintly at Rachel as he stumbled inside of the boat to his cabin. He crashed into the doorway and muttered to himself as he collapsed onto his bunk and stared up at the ceiling. Nausea rocked around inside of him with the movements of the boat, making him dizzier than he was before. The top of his head tingled then his feet as he swayed with the ship. Maybe he could sleep for a while.

________________________________________________________________

“Gar, wake up!”

Gar felt himself being shaken widely, forcing him to open his eyes and come face to face with Rachel. He frowned and shifted himself into a sitting position. Blinking hard, Gar pushed his luminous green hair from his eyes and swallowed a yawn. How long had he been sleeping? It had only felt like ten minutes, but Rachel was wearing different clothes.

“What is it?”

“We’re here.”

“Huh?”

“We’re at Themyscira!” Rachel said excitedly. Very few mortals had been lucky enough to set eyes on the hidden paradise on earth, of course she was excited.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, come on,” Rachel tried to pull Gar to his feet. “You’re totally gonna want to see this!”

Gar didn’t fight as Rachel dragged him to his feet and let her lead him to the railings again. Rachel was right, Gar did want to see this!

White cliffs were the first thing that caught his eye, all of them crisp chalk white with green tops, towering higher than any normal cliff. Tumbling down the cliffs and other rock formations were a water that was so blue and clean that it almost seemed to glow, even water hidden amongst the shade. Hidden at the top of the cliffs, where the waterfalls led to, was the city itself. Themyscira. Whitestone houses and tall pillars with statues of Amazons, living and passed. Gar stared at the sight before him stunned into a silence of admiration as they approached the island’s golden beaches. There was a long, white stone dock with Amazons waiting there to greet them. When the boat was close enough, the women leapt onto the ship and started to help tie the boat off. The woman closest to Gar was a towering example of a woman with biceps and quadriceps that could put Olympic athletes to shame. He had to crane his head up to look at her, even then his vision was skewered put the blaring sun, but he could make out features of the woman. Older, he knew that much, she looked around Bruce’s age if he had to guess, she was wearing the garb of a general that he had seen in the books that Rachel poured over every morning, afternoon and evening. The woman looked as though she could take Connor down with a single flick to the forehead.

“You can get off now,” the woman told him.

“T-thank you, Madame Amazon,” Gar nodded as he stumbled to get off. The woman chuckled and shook her head in amusement.

“Trigona,” she said.

“Right, right,” he coughed and nodded again. Surely he was going to get a headache. “Thank you, Trigona.”

“You’re welcome, young man,” Trigona smiled. The emphasis on man reminded Gar that here, on Themyscira, he was an originality to the women, the Amazons. Not many, if any of them, had met a male before. He was like a display to them, something to mumble about to each other in stupefaction and curiosity.

“Gar, come on,” Rachel called. Gar turned and looked to see Rachel on the dock, her arms folded for him not coming quick enough.

“Right,” Gar said, he turned back to Trigona, “nice meeting you,” he said before leaping off the boat and onto the dock next to Rachel. The Amazons stood opposite them, looking at them intensely. Gar and Rachel looked awkwardly to each other before sighing and looking at the Amazons.

“It’s Donna, isn’t it?” said one of the Amazons. It was evident to the female warriors who looked at the teenagers. What happened was written all over their faces, the sadness in Gar’s eyes and the solemnness on Rachel’s face. The women knew it. There was no need to beat around the bush.

“Yeah…” Rachel nodded solemnly.

“Come, let’s talk, and see what we can do.”

“Young man, you look quite faint,” said another woman, who crouched down and placed a hand on Gar’s shoulder. He was still quite pale from the journey, and his legs were wobbling. Rachel smiled, sympathetically at her friend.

“Gar struggled a lot with seasickness.”

“Well then,” the woman said, “let’s get you nice and rested to gather your strength.”

“I’d like that,” Gar said.

“I’ll have Epione come and look you over,” she said as she gently guided Gar off.

________________________________________________________________

For two days, Gar was on bed rest, especially after he stood up after Epione making sure he was alright and he practically crumpled to the ground. Rachel came and visited him between meetings with the Amazons, who had grown quite fond of her and Gar in their short time there.

“How're the meetings been going?” Gar asked as he and Rachel ate their meals together.

“They’re… complicated,” Rachel confessed, “they have so much knowledge and things here that I kinda feel a little behind…”

“Don’t underestimate yourself,” Gar assured her.

“Epione reckons you might be able to leave the bed,” Rachel said changing the topic.

“Thank God!” Gar chuckled, “I’m in Themyscira of all places and haven’t seen any of it. Not complaining though, if there is one thing I know about Themyscira I can say with complete and utter confidence is that the Amazons have perfected how to make the most comfortable bed ever!”

“Tell me about it, I’ve slept like a baby since being here.” Rachel smiled, “reckon we’ll be allowed to take our mattresses with us?”

“Probably not,” Gar shifted into a more comfortable position. “Don’t you have another meeting to get to?”

“Oh, yes!” Rachel’s eyes widened as Gar reminded her. “Thanks, I’ll see you later,” Rachel waved as she ran out of the room, leaving Gar alone in his room.

________________________________________________________________

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sofia lifted her eyebrow and folded her arms as she caught Y/N trying to climb out of her bedroom window. Her leg was sticking out of the window, and she was in the process of pulling herself out of the window to jump to the ground below.

“Out?” Y/N cocked her head to the right as she looked at Sofia.

“Where to?”

“The… er… the cliffs?”

“Want to try again?”

“Fine,” Y/N groaned as she pulled herself back into her room, “I was going to go look at the outsiders! That girl and the… the man!”

“Y/N, we have spoken about this,” Sofia scolded.

“I’ve never seen one of them before, let alone met one,” Y/N said, “all I want is a peak. He won’t even know I’m there.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are young, there is much to learn,” Sofia said calmly. “You, like Donna, need to train properly first.”

Y/N was a lot younger than Donna but had grown from an infant on Themyscira. Being a child from the world of man, but having none of the memories of the place. Donna had found Y/N on a mission with Diana. It was a lab, and whatever had happened, there had given Y/N Amazon abilities. The Amazons never really spoke about it, but Donna had let a few things slip. Y/N knew that she was experimented on as a baby, Y/N knew that she didn’t have any biological family. Y/N knew that the experiment was supposed to be able to create super-soldiers that could be used against those like Diana and Clark. Donna mentioned the name ‘Lex’ once or twice, but that name meant nothing to her. Donna showed baby Y/N to Diana, who had been looking through the files and knew what Y/N was being used for, immediately knew what to do. They brought her to Themyscira and had asked Sofia, an old friend of Diana’s who was a finalist for the title of Wonder Woman – of course, Diana trusted her to train Y/N as an Amazon, and Sofia was a warm-hearted, kind-souled woman. Perfect for raising a baby into a mighty Amazon.

“Come on, Sofia,” Y/N whined. “I’m only curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Sofia warned, saying the expression that she learned from Diana and Donna when they came back to Themyscira. “Now, come on, time for training!”

“Okay,” Y/N sighed and nodded as she followed sulkily.

________________________________________________________________

Y/N wasn’t going to give up that easily. She was dying to take a peek at the man that she had heard whispers about. Trigona had told her and Sofia all about the man when she stopped by for supper. Apparently, he had green hair. Was that normal for men? Y/N didn’t know, and she wasn’t going to ask. Sofia had always warned Y/N that men and their world were filled with temptations and dangers, things that she might not win battles against. Y/N didn’t blame Sofia for wanting to protect Y/N. While she didn’t know much about the world of man, she could tell that what they did to Y/N as a baby wasn’t right. It was a bad thing. The word ‘experiment’ sounded cold and heartless. Of course, Sofia wouldn’t want Y/N to have contact with the world that hurt her. All Y/N wanted was a peek, just a small one, to satisfy what was nagging in her brain, then she would never mention it again. That was all she wanted, all she needed.

She grabbed her sword, just to be safe, and went to look. Sofia was at one of those meetings with the girl that had come, as were most of the Amazons. Y/N was too young.

Y/N knew that the man was somewhere on the island. He had been taken off of bed rest and was free to roam. She just had to look for him. Where could he have gone? There was an awful lot to see on Themyscira, and even Y/N was still discovering new areas on her adventures. It was a needle in a haystack situation. Time to start searching.

________________________________________________________________

The moment Y/N saw the mop of green hair, she dropped to the ground. She was minutes away from giving up, strolling atop the cliffs and kicking at the dirt beneath her feet and then a green-haired figure was seen in the corner of her eyes. Why she dropped to the ground, she didn’t know. Instinct, like hunting, really. When stalking your prey, you don’t want to be seen. On the ground, Y/N pulled herself forward on her elbows to the edge and peered over it, keeping herself as close to the ground as possible so not to be seen.

He certainly had green hair, but Y/N couldn’t really see anything else defining about the man. Man. Y/N was seeing a real man with her own two eyes. A man. Maybe she could get a closer look. She bit her lip and carefully got to her feet, creeping along the edges of the cliff, still not being caught. There were some rocks on the beach. She could hide behind them. With a gentle landing, Y/N leapt off of the cliff and landed on the sand, creeping behind the rocks. The man still hadn’t seen her yet. She peered behind the rocks and saw him closer. He was smiling to himself and squinting in the bright sunlight that hurt his eyes. His hands were in his pockets, and he strolled casually, taking in his surroundings. Y/N smiled and leaned a little further to look.

Carefully, Y/N started to follow him on foot, knowing she could hide behind the rocks a few feet ahead.

________________________________________________________________

Finally, after two days, Gar could look around the island. Paradise on Earth. All the Amazons he had met were so lovely and absolutely fascinating, and he couldn’t wait to know them better, but they had meetings, so while they did that, he was free to roam.

The beach was, of course, the first place to go. Those golden bays looked so inviting on the boat. He strolled aimlessly, smiling and looking around. There were no stones, no shells, but there were large rocks thrown around the shores. It was perfect, absolutely perfect. Being on Themyscira, Gar felt all his troubles melt away. Though some doubt crept in when Gar thought he saw a figure move out of the corner of his eye. Something appearing in front of the cliff. But when he didn’t see anything, he thought it must’ve been a bird or something.

However, Gar couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Weren’t all the Amazons at the meeting?

He slowed his walk down ever-so-slightly and shifted his eyes to look over his shoulder subtly. There was a figure behind him, he knew that, but he couldn’t see who. They were close to him, so close he could hear them breathing. Quickly, Gar spun around and grabbed the figure, pinning them to the ground, growling, letting his eyes flash.

________________________________________________________________

It happened so fast. Y/N was foolish enough to try and get closer to him and then her back hit the sand. She saw green, a lot of green. Using the hilt of her sword, Y/N shoved his chest, sending him backwards, then kicked his feet out from underneath him, pressing the blade against his throat. She pressed her knee into his chest to keep him still.

“Stay down!” She ordered

________________________________________________________________

Gar was stunned, to say the least. His eyes weren’t glowing anymore, and there were no fangs, no growl, no nothing. His hands were by his head, and his eyes were wide open as he looked at the person pinning him to the down. He heard them speak in a firm voice, ordering him to stay down, and feeling the sharp blade against his throat, Gar wasn’t going to argue, but looking at the person, it wasn’t what he expected. A girl around his age was who was following him, who he pinned down and who was easily holding him down like he was a ragdoll. She had Y/H/C hair that shone in the light of the sun and piercing Y/E/C eyes that stared him down. He gulped. She was a powerful-looking young woman.

“Sorry!” Gar said quickly, “I didn’t know it was you… I, I, I thought you were going to attack me. I just wanted to be safe.”

The girl eyed him cautiously before slowly pulling her sword back. He could hear Cliff in his head telling him to ‘say something, dumbass’.

________________________________________________________________

Yeah, Y/N thought, this guy wasn’t going to hurt her. She knew it by his eyes, they stared at her completely stunned and then when he spoke it just confirmed what she already knew. He was a man who didn’t want to harm. A rarity apparently according to what she heard of the land of man.

She pulled back her sword and let him get to his feet, but she kept a tight grasp on the sword and looked at him closely. He smiled, awkwardly at Y/N.

“Sorry, for, you know, attacking you…” he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pocket.

“You’re the man?” Y/N said instead of acknowledging what he had said.

“Erm, yes,” he nodded, “Gar,” he held his hand out, “nice to meet you.”

Y/N eyed the hand hesitantly before looking at Gar who smiled again, looking at his own hand, silently asking her to shake his hand. She did, cautiously. Y/N placed her hand in his and gave him a firm handshake.

“Gar?” Y/N repeated.

“Um, my full name is Garfield, but I prefer Gar,” Gar explained in a rambling voice, “You know, like a nickname. Garfield Logan is kinda a long mouthful of a name, so just going by Gar Logan, or just Gar really, no one really goes around wanting to be called by their first and last name, do they? Anyway, going by Gar is easier.”

“Well, Gar, I’m… sorry for concerning you,” Y/N coughed, retracting her hand which Gar was still slowly shaking, unaware, looking Y/N in the eye and smiling. “That was inconsiderate of me. I’ve just… I’ve never seen a man before, and I was curious.”

“Right, you’re an Amazon,” Gar nodded as though he just realised. “Hope I met the expectations you had,” he chuckled awkwardly. Y/N laughed herself, but before she could answer, Sofia came running towards them.

“Y/N, what did I tell you?” Sofia scolded her, grabbing Y/N by the arm and pulling her away from Gar.

“I was curious!”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N, remember?”

Y/N groaned and let her head rollback. Of all the things Donna and Dianna brought to Themyscira from the world of man, that damned expression was the worst thing.

“It’s fine, really,” Gar said, drawing attention to himself. “Y/N, is it?” Sofia and Y/N turned and looked at him, Sofia scowling and Y/N smiling a little. Gar smiled back at Y/N, which Sofia noticed, causing her to pull Y/N back further.

“Yes,” Y/N nodded.

“Y/N seems really nice,” Gar assured Sofia, who, while proud that Y/N was a nice young woman, was still not pleased. “It didn’t bother me.”

“That is beside the point,” Sofia said to Gar before turning to Y/N,

“Sorry, Sofia,” Y/N sighed, looking down.

“Come on, let’s leave the young man be and talk about this elsewhere,” Sofia said before they turned to Gar. “Thank you, young man, for being such a nice young man, but we ought to be going.”

“Farewell, Gar,” Y/N smiled, “I hope we can talk again soon.”

“Me too.”

________________________________________________________________

“I’m sorry, Sofia,” Y/N repeated as she sat down.

“When I say something, I want to be listened to, Y/N.” Sofia scolded, “What if you had bothered him? What if this ended badly for one of you? What if someone had gotten hurt?”

“I know, I shouldn’t have disobeyed,” Y/N agreed, thinking to Gar’s glowing green eyes and how she had held a knife to his throat. Yes, they quickly mended the situation and found themselves getting along, but what if they hadn’t? “He’s really nice though, Sofia,” Y/N added.

“Yes, he appeared to be,” Sofia nodded, sitting next to Y/N, stroking her hair.

“He has a nice smile, doesn’t he?”

Sofia chuckled as she hugged her surrogate daughter.

______________________________________________________________

“Gar, what’s up?” Rachel asked as Gar came back with a beaming smile.

“I met someone today,” he shrugged, looking at his friend.

“What’s her name?”

“Y/N, she’s… incredible.”

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a-dragons-journal · 4 years ago

Note

4 and 9 for the ask game :) (@dragonkinmcfly)

Send me shift asks!

4. Ever had a cameo shift? Of what? Do these shifts have a specific trigger or do they come and go at random? (It’s not unheard of for some to get cameo shifts of a strong hearttype).

I do get cameo phantom shifts occasionally - typically canine/feline ears. I’ve spoken about it a couple times, but basically at some point I realized that the sequence of events that led to that probably went something like this:

>Be smol Rani, obsessed with cats and horses (big Warriors fan) >Experience fairly frequent sensation of muscles tensing as if to move something on top of the head forward/up or back/pinned down, along with a vague sense of that happening with a body part that doesn’t exist, instinctively trying to express emotions that way, but not defined enough to recognize what that “something” is >Realize that the sensation is fairly similar to the ears pricked up/pinned back motions cats, dogs, and horses frequently do >Assume that it is a byproduct of obsession with cats and horses >Confirmation bias self into proper phantom ears (without having an actual name for that)

In other words, probably a byproduct of my self-expression via crest movement being somewhat similar to the movement of feline/canine/equine ears when they communicate that way.

9. What’s the most inopportune time for a phantom or mental shift? Any awkward or amusing situations?

Getting sudden super strong phantom shifts ten seconds before I had to go onstage in the middle of a musical in which I was a main antagonist was fun. /s Because walking in high heels wasn’t hard enough normally.

#otherkin #shift asks #asked and answered #anonymous #rani talks #journaling

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calitraditionalism · 5 years ago

Text

Story: The Best View

Flypaw watched the cluster of warriors whispering to each other, her tail lashing. They were talking about her. They were always talking about her.

The pathetic black-and-white tom that was her stepfather was bobbing his head up and down like a fishing duck, murmuring affirmations and apologies. Ever since her mother had died, he had handed over authority of Flypaw’s life to Minnownose, who was currently staring him down coldly, and he would agree with every single idea the deputy had about how to discipline Flypaw and lead her down the path of obedience.

Flypaw hated both of them for opposite reasons. Swiftdust was a simpering wuss who’d never had an original opinion in his life. Minnownose, on the other paw, was the pinnacle of what the Marish desired in their community – quiet, stern and dedicated to keeping everyone together and in perfect unity. No one had fought in a long time because of her mediations and threats of punishment, and that was just how everyone liked it.

Flypaw, being the exact opposite of everything this family stood for, threatened their shallow peace and serenity. As such, she was constantly in trouble. She was amazed they even let her near her sisters anymore, but, then again, it wasn’t like they could stop her without beating her within an inch of her life or exiling her, and neither of those things were The Ideal Way. The Marish insisted on everyone staying and keeping the knowledge and secrets they had within the family, no matter what.

So screw her, she guessed.

One cat stood up – her mentor, Troutpath. He said something that she couldn’t quite hear, but his tone and submissive body gestures gave away that he was trying to vie for a talk, rather than a punishment.

Good ol’ Troutpath. The only cat looking out for her.

Abruptly, the three cats stood up and approached Flypaw - Minnownose with her chin raised so she could look down dismissively at the apprentice, Swiftdust with his tail between his legs and his stupid meek shuffle, and Troutpath actually walking like a normal person. A welcome respite.

“Er…Flypaw.” Swiftdust looked at Minnownose, who nodded at him, and he stepped a little closer, in the same manner one would approach a venomous snake. “Minnownose would like to address your fight today.”

“She can bite me,” Flypaw said.

Swiftdust flinched. “Flypaw, please-“

“Fine.” Flypaw stood up and gave the deputy her most hate-filled glare she could manage. “You can bite me.”

Minnownose blinked disdainfully at her and jerked her head at Troutpath. A classic Marish motion: She’s your apprentice, do your job.

Flypaw watched the motion with rage burning in her chest, but she stared down at the ground, bristling all over. Her short fur made it impossible for her to look much bigger than she was, but she knew her aura would at least ward off the deputy from talking to her directly.

Troutpath sat down in front of his apprentice. She could feel his patient gaze. “Flypaw…”

Flypaw met his eyes with a fierce, unspoken challenge.

Troutpath did not rise to it. He spoke kindly. “Would you like to talk about what’s going on?”

Flypaw wanted to glower at him until he looked away, but it was she who turned her head first. “I’unno.”

“Here, come on.” Troutpath stood up, adding to Minnownose, “We’ll be back later.”

Minnownose grunted. Troutpath gently nudged Flypaw, and, for once, she obediently got up and stalked after him out of camp.

Nothing was said as they hopped over streams and parted the grass. Flypaw was scowling at the ground, unaware of their direction, just following the sound of her mentor’s footsteps. The longer they walked, the more hunched over she got, and the more her steps lagged.

She stepped over Troutpath’s tail and just barely stopped in time to avoid crashing into him. He had seated himself on a flat, grass-free patch of land, circled by water. He turned and gave her an inviting nod. Reluctantly, she sat down beside him and looked up to see where they were.

Ah. No wonder they had come here. This was her favorite place in the Marish’s homeland.

Here, the ground raised a little, just enough to see into the valley with a mostly uninterrupted view – almost all the way to end of the flatlands, blocked only by patches of forest and the sheer distance between here and where the leaders lived. If Flypaw squinted and the light was right, the faint grey on the horizon formed into the fabled stone houses the Clast lived in. The way the sun was setting behind them caught the snow on the mountains to the east and turned them almost orange, with the uncovered rocks jutting out on the slopes turned a sharp black. The grass was still green in the valley, a gentle breeze in the distance sending a wave of gold wherever it touched down, with black dots casting long shadows moving about, catching prey or chasing each other back and forth.

Flypaw let out a huge breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, and at once the tension left her body.

“There we are,” Troutpath said, with an affectionate touch of his chin to the top of her head. “Feeling better?”

Flypaw nodded.

“I thought that might help.” The way Troutpath was colored by the sunset, he looked like an entirely different cat – his brown patches were red, and most of the white of his body was dark blue. “Do you want to talk now?”

Flypaw wanted to be more sullen than she actually felt, but the serenity of the end of the day opened her mouth. “I guess.”

“Alright.” Troutpath lowered into a crouch, settling down for the long haul. “What’s troubling you?”

Flypaw took a breath, let it out, and breathed in again. “I’unno. Lots.”

Troutpath nodded for her to go on.

The storm in the back of Flypaw’s head rumbled and swelled, and before she knew it she was off. “I’m just tired of this whole…thing. All of it. I don’t want to shut up, I want to talk. And I don’t want Gnatkit and Mosquitokit to be told to shut up either. They’re kittens, they should get to talk as much as they want! So should I! What’s wrong with being loud? Why can’t we just yell once in a while?

“And- and I hate that Swiftdust is just letting Minnownose do whatever she wants with HIS kits. And no one listens to me, even though I’m going to be a warrior in a couple months! I know them better than HE does! But he gets to be the one to shove them off on an old bat who doesn’t know what it’s like to be young anymore? It’s rotten!”

Troutpath looked amused for a moment, but his face turned serious again before Flypaw could berate him. She bared her teeth like a dog and continued, bristling again.

“And, you know, I’d leave to be rid of all this! I’d let them kick me out – if they WOULD kick me out! But they won’t! They want everyone who knows anything about the Marish to stay here! They’ll do their best to keep me here so I don’t go off spilling secrets or whatever-the-muck they’re so concerned about! Who would want to talk about this crappy place, anyway?! I should just take my sisters and go! Just leave in the middle of the night, before they can stop me! But they’ll just track me down and try to drag me back! Even though no one except my mom wanted me here to begin with!”

Flypaw’s voice cracked on the last sentence and she choked on her breath. A wave of hurt hit her square in the chest and she almost sagged with the weight of it. She hardly even noticed her mentor’s tail on her back as she coughed out pained breath after pained breath. She let herself sink to the ground, mirroring Troutpath’s position, burying her nose in her paws.

“I want to go,” she managed finally, voice weak and wobbly. “I want out of here. Now. But I can’t leave my sisters trapped in this family before they have the chance to figure out who they want to be. And no one will let me take them with me.”

Troutpath blinked slowly at her – an expression of compassion, and one that she rarely received. He said quietly, “This isn’t the best place for an individual to grow, I agree.”

Flypaw lifted her nose and rested her chin on her paws, eyes too heavy to keep open. “I hate it here.”

“I know.” Troutpath’s tail gently tapped along her back. He paused. “You’re always feeling these things, though. Did any of this cause you to get into a fight with Dapplepaw?”

Flypaw managed a snort. “It wasn’t a fight. I hit him a couple times and he wailed for his mentor to stop me instead of doing anything himself.”

Troutpath almost looked like he wanted to laugh, but he stayed on topic. “What did he say to upset you?”

“I’unno.” Flypaw’s eyes drifted to the side, focused on a bent blade of grass. “He said I shouldn’t get to see my sisters at all. Something ‘bout a ‘bad influence’. I forget. I just got mad and hit him.”

Troutpath hummed.

“I’m not gunna apologize,” Flypaw said. “I don’t care how much trouble I get in. I’m the only one who actually cares about the twins enough to protect them. I’ll fight every single member of this family to the death to let them be their own cats and not just a mindless shadow following along with the herd.”

“Would you fight me?” Troutpath asked.

“Well, no, of course not you.” Flypaw made a face at him, and he did laugh this time. “You and their foster mom, I’d leave alone.”

“Duckheart’s been letting you visit the nursery, then,” Troutpath said, surprised. “I thought she was upset with you.”

“No, just with me yelling so much or whatever.” Flypaw tilted her head in a feline version of a shrug. “Doesn’t want me to wake her litter. She doesn’t care if the girls are awake.”

Troutpath nodded and fell silent, turning his head to the valley and gazing out at the growing darkness. Flypaw joined him in watching the land slowly drown in shadow and the stars appear and speckle the night sky as the warmer colors faded away.

And, like always, the sight slowly drained Flypaw of her bitterness and anger. She started focusing on the stars, counting to ten in one area, then counting to ten again in another, and trying to keep track of which ones she had already numbered. It was more fun than she thought it would be.

Fun enough, in fact, that she jumped out of her reverie when Troutpath spoke again. “Are you ready to go home?”

Flypaw blinked twice and looked at him. Heaving a sigh, she nodded and stood up. “I’m not going to have to say sorry, am I?”

Troutpath smiled at her like he was trying to hide another laugh as he got to his feet and led her back through the grass. “We’ll see.”

#warrior cats #story #side story #troutpath #swiftdust #flyfang #minnownose #readmore #dullard #finally something to update with eh?

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khafe · 5 years ago

Text

Episode 1: Our Journey Begins

Below is a transcription of episode 1 of Kingdom Hearts: A Forgotten Era

Laina: Hello everyone and welcome to Kingdom Hearts: A Forgotten Era, an actual play podcast set in the universe of Kingdom Hearts,60 years before the events of Birth by Sleep. We will be playing Interstitial: Our Hearts Intertwined, a game made by Riley Hopkins. You can find them at @RevRyeBread on Twitter. To start things off, I would like everyone to introduce themselves, say your name and pronouns. I'm Laina. I use she/her and they/them pronouns and I will be running this game.

Isiah: Hi, I'm Isiah, I use he/him and they/them pronouns.

Nathan: Hi, I'm Nathan, I use he/him pronouns.

Theo: I'm Griffin McElroy. No, I'm Theo, I use he/him.

Rem:I'm Rem, I use they/them pronouns.

Val: Hi, I'm Val, and I use she her pronouns.

Laina: Alright, so, our story begins with our cameras zoomed out, showcasing a city built on a hill surrounded by water. The camera quickly swoops across the entirety of the city, and we watch his children run through the street, as couriers deliver mail to many of the homes, guards patrol the city, working to keep everyone safe, and students wielding strange key shaped weapons spar with each other. Our camera zooms back out, showcasing the whole city once again, and the words "Scala ad Caelum" appear on screen. The camera lingers on the shot of the city for a while before zooming into the top of the city. A large spire with blade spinning in the wind, much like a windmill. Our camera zooms in even further into an open window at the top of this building. And we see two kids playing a game of chess, one dressed in white and one dressed in black. The boy in black has lost this game but the boy in white suggests a new game when they haven't played before. He brings out five white pieces and seven black pieces. Both of the boys smile at each other and begin playing this new game. But before we see the results of it, our camera zooms back out, this time zooming in on an open clearing, where four warriors wielding keyblades are sparring against one another.

Laina: One of these keyblade wielders is in an outfit far fancier than the rest of them. Rem, I would like you to briefly introduce your character.

Rem: Yeah, I'm playing Aesa, she's gonna be using a custom playbook called the Henshin, it's a transforming character playbook. She's currently trying her hardest but she's not very good at this yet. She’s just kind of flailing around a little bit in her little pink hoodie with the cat ears.

Laina: Okay, so our camera pans over to the person that she is sparring with. This person is using a wooden keyblade, but that doesn't seem to be stopping her determination. Theo I would like you to introduce your character.

Theo: I would be pleased too. I'm playing Zenica, the hunted. She's dressed mostly varying shades of green. She's got a green leather jacket going, with a green scarf over top. Wearing jeans and a pair of green sneakers. She's, probably in the fight, she's probably not using the wooden keyblade as you're meant to use a keyblade, she's probably using a little bit more just like how you would use a normal stick. She's probably doing pretty good in this fight, like in a good natured way, she's not just being mean and smacking the shit out of Aesa.

Laina: Okay, so our camera pulls away from Aesa and Zenica and moves to one of the couriers in the city. This one is a man with short curly brown hair, dressed in baggy clothes. Nathan, I would like you to introduce your character.

Nathan: My character's name is Celeritas Quickfoot. He's going to be using the Knucklehead playbook, and he is just a super friendly, just the most shounen protagonist, shounen protagonist in all but the genre of thing we're doing.

Laina: Alright, so our camera pans back to the open clearing and we focus on the other set of keyblade wielders sparring against each other. This next keyblade wielder is a slightly older looking man. He is using a metal keyblade and one that is reminiscent of a rapier. I would like you to introduce your character Isiah.

Isiah: So, his name is Imber. He is the Discarded playbook. And I think right now he is sort of sparring kind of defensively looking for an opening.

Laina: Okay. Our final Keyblade wielder is wielding a keyblade that looks like a blank car or house key. Last but not least, I would like you to introduce your character, Val.

Val: My character is Milo, he is the Dark playbook, and he is definitely a more aggressive fighter. He is trying to break down Imbers defenses and, sort of, whacking determinately at the blade to sort of throw him off balance.

Laina: All right. So as each of you are going about your day you receive a message saying that the keyblade wielder, Master Nalia, who all of you study under wishes to speak with you immediately.

Laina: You all make your way to the same clearing that the keyblade wielders were training at and meet with Master Nalia. Master Nalia is a young keyblade master with pink hair dressed in the regalia expected of a keyblade master. As you all arrive, she says, "Ah, it's good to see you all. I'm very glad that you got my message. We don't know why, but many of the world's have begun to fall to darkness. And I trust that you students will be able to save them. I've arranged a ship to take you between worlds and have opened up the lanes in between. And if you are all ready to go, you can set off at once. Are there any questions?"

Theo: Sorry, what?

Rem: Aesa's gonna shyly raise her hand and be like, "Are you sure you want me to go?"

Isiah: Imber is going to raise his hand and kind of look at Milo, a little bit and be like, "Are you sure you want all of us to go?"

Nalia: I am positive. I've seen your training and I feel that you are the best picks to go.

Zenica: Master Nalia, I've been here about a week and a half, I appreciate the compliment, but I don't remember this being part of what the tuition fees are paying for. I don't remember signing on for this.

Theo: And Zenica is saying all of this with a smile on her face, but she is very clearly like, "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit."

Laina: She kind of like, laughs a little bit at that and she's like, "Being keyblade wielders you are expected to save the worlds when it needs to happen. This is very much something you signed on for."

Imber: Are you sure that we are all capable of that?

Nalia: I'm positive.

Rem: Aesa tries not to look too hurt.

Nathan: Also, another important question, is Celeritas there?

Laina: Celeritas is there.

Nathan: Okay, okay. He managed to make it in time.

Theo: "Wait I need to give this again, give me like ten minutes fam." Has to go get him from outside.

Nathan: This man had to spring through the rest of his deliveries for the day to make it back to this field in time.

Isiah: Celeritas dived in through the window.

Laina: Everyone just waited for you.

Theo: Celeritas just has his head in a trash can and a mop bucket, and like, "Wait what?"

Nathan: And he still has his couriers bag with him at all times, because obviously.

Laina: Yeah.

Theo: Alright, so I think Zenica is not sure how she can nope out of this without arousing more suspicion so she's just gonna shut up and kind of look panicked.

Rem: Aesa just definitely feels like the weak link right now.

Val: Milo puffs out his chest and is just like,"All of you guys have worked with me and obviously if you guys worked with me ,you have potential, we've worked with Master Nalia, we have potential. All we have to do is follow our power and we can get through this."

Theo: Cool speech pat.

Laina: She points out at Milo and is like, "That's the kind of attitude that I'm here for."

Val: Oh, he's preening he is, he is definitely like, puffing out his chest and like looking very pleased with himself.

Theo: Zenica is definitely like rubbing the back of her neck and kind of like, kicking the floor and is like, "So are we gonna go ahead and go then? Question mark?"

Isiah: Imber goes, "Is there any more information that you can give us about what exactly we need to do?"

Theo: Nope, bye!

Imber: Want to maybe give us a debriefing?

Rem: Or a briefing.

Nalia: I need you to eliminate the heartless in each of these worlds and then seal the keyhole.

Theo: (Laughs)

Rem: Aesa is gonna summon and unsummon her keyblade a couple of times, and then say, "Yeah, we can do that."

Isiah: Imber goes, "I suppose I will do my best to make you proud."

Nalia: That is always my hope.

Nathan: Celeritas is just really excited that he gets a chance to now deliver mail across dimensions.

Isiah: You're like, "Oh boy I can't wait to deliver more things on this quest."

Nathan: Hell yeah. Courier by nature and courier by trade.

Theo: Celeritas is gonna kill the final boss of this campaign and be like, "Express shipping, two days or less. Bitch."

Nathan: Celeritas grabs a sign post, slams it into the final boss... Oh, I had a one-liner, and it's gone now. Damn it.

Isiah: “Special delivery,” and then a punch in the face.

Nathan: That was it. I was gonna say, "Special delivery." Damn it Isiah.

Theo: "Through rain or sleet or snow."

Laina: Oh I love this.

Theo: Can we just hard cut and we're walking to the gummi ship or whatever it's called?

Laina: Yeah, you can, you're walking to the--.

Theo: Wait, I have one more question!

Isiah: Just a screen wipe.

Laina: Well actually, as you all get ready to leave, Nalia stops Imber and Milo and says, "You two, think of this as a test. I want nothing more than for you to prove to me that you're ready to become a keyblade master. But I need to be shown that you have it in you to become a master. This is your chance to show me that, and I very much hope that you will succeed." And she gives you a bow and then sends you on your way.

Val: Milo is literally like vibrating and then goes still. And then he looks at Imber, and he's just like, and he's like-

Theo: That was the weirdest thing.

Val: He's like, "I get the feeling that you don't think I can do this."

Imber: I, I definitely believe that you can. I'm concerned that you won't.

Val: I don't know how to answer that, and he's going to walk away.

Nathan: Celeritas just runs up, "Hey guys what's up?" Sees the conversation is awkward, instantly backs out.

Theo: Yo, there's leather upholstery in here!

Val: Milo kind of brusquely moves past Celeritas.

Celeritas: Cool, cool, cool, picked a bad time, I'll just go that way.

Theo: There's LaCroix in here!

Isiah: So I guess, we all get to- Is there gonna be a gummi ship?

Laina: There is a gummi ship, yeah.

Theo: It's the Ebon Hawk from Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. That's canon.

Laina: Well actually, technically Star Wars isn't canon in the Kingdom Hearts universe.

Theo: You're gonna have a fun job editing this aren't you?

All: (Laughs)

Laina: No, I'm keeping that in.

Rem: Oh that's all being kept.

Theo:I wanna say, the idea that I would like to put forward, just to move things along, when they're getting into the gummi ship, Zenica sees the last seat available is beside Milo, and she sits as far on the edge of her seat as she can. Casually, not making a big deal, just like, "Hey, what's up?" Kind of sitting on the arm.

Nathan: Celeritas, before going to gummi ship, went back and dropped by his siblings to tell them he'll be out for a bit.

Theo: Fucking brag. Oh.

Nathan: No.

Rem: Aesa, definitely, definitely had a moment where she didn't have any stuff to work through. So she got in immediately and in her front of the class mentality, she immediately sat in the pilots seat, looked down, realized it was the pilot seat, and got back up.

All: (Laughs)

Laina: Yeah I was gonna ask...

Theo: And then none of us sat in the pilot seat because none of us- Nalia is like, "I feel like I forgot something... Oh no."

Isiah: Which one of us is gonna be the pilot?

Theo: Wait a minute. If you have daddy issues and I have daddy issues, then who's flying this thing?

Celeritas: Don't worry guys, I got this!

Nathan: And then cuts to the outside of the gummi ship as everyone is screaming as Celeritas (inaudible).

Val: Milo is reaching forward for the controls like, "This was a mistake, this was a mistake to let you drive."

Rem: Does the gummi ship still run on smiles?

Laina: The gummi ship 100% still runs on smiles. So really, it's the best that Celeritas is driving.

Rem: Aesa and Celeritas are gonna have to fuel this thing by themselves.

Nathan: Celeritas is absolutely grinning like a maniac the whole time.

Val: Milo was feeling happy.

Isiah: So I think Imber is probably the last to get on. And I think before stepping on, he sort of like turns around and looks at like Scala ad Caelum, and the place that he has been in for so long. And he just sort of takes in a deep breath and exhales and then walks onto the ship.

Laina: Hell yeah. Okay.

Laina: So as you all get inside, the ship--.

Isiah: Hell yeah, breathing.

Laina: Hell yeah, I mean that is very important.

Laina: As you all get inside the gummi ship, the ship takes off and heads into the Ocean Between. As you leave Scala ad Caelum, you see three more worlds, and the names of each world pops up above the world. The worlds you see in front of you are called the Mystery Shack, Atlantis and the Incan Empire. Which would you all like to go to first?

Theo: Incan Empire, right now!

Isiah: I just want to say I immediately got excited by all three of those.

Theo: Yes. These are three very good pulls.

Rem: Just hard left to the Mystery Shack.

Theo: All of our characters are gonna be possessed by like unknown spirits, and yanking at the wheel at opposite directions.

Theo: But also I guess, Celeritas is the one at the pilot seat so he has the final vote.

Val and Isiah: (Laughs)

Rem: Oh shit, that's true.

Theo: We're all like, "What are these places I have no preference."

Rem: We're just gonna have that Kingdom Hearts 1 moment of fighting over the wheel and crashing in Deep Jungle.

Isiah: Of course it would be Deep Jungle.

Theo: Which ever one we pick we just end up in somewhere else.

Nathan: By virtue of my character being the one in the driver seat, Celeritas just says to himself, "Huh, that sounds fun," and goes towards the Mystery Shack.

Rem: Hell yeah.

Theo: Oh God.

Laina: Heck yeah, I was honestly really hoping that that would be the first one you picked.

Rem: I can't wait to use a transformation sequence in front of Mabel Pines.

Theo: "Wait, who's Mabel Pines?" Says Zenica, "I wonder what's at this mystery shack."

Nathan: "It's a mystery." Celeritas laughs to himself quietly.

Val: Milo is very confused and he's like, "How are we gonna save the world at a shack?"

Zenica: That's the mystery!

Celeritas: No way to find out but to do it!

Milo: Yeah, I suppose.

Imber: I wonder what kind of mysteries will be found here in this shack.

Theo: Plot twist, we're going into Supernatural instead.

Laina:That would be a twist. So, as you make your decision, the ship takes off into that direction. Considering you don't have the most training with flying a gummi ship, you make your way to the aforementioned shack and you crash into the top of it.

Rem: Oh no.

Nathan: That tracks.

Isiah: Do we knock off any letters?

Theo: It has to be while Soos is replacing the S, that has to be canon.

Laina: Yeah, yeah 100%.

Theo: He's gonna have to climb down the ladder and be like, "There, good job done." And then we drive by and it just falls off again.

Imber: Theo that was such a good Soos impression.

Laina: That was a really good Soos.

Theo, as Soos: There we go.

Nathan: You're voicing Soos from now on.

Theo: I know what character I'm being when Zenica dies.

Rem: So what I'm hearing is we're pulling a Stitch commercial.

Laina: Yeah, basically. So you've landed inside of the shack, and you hear the sound of two children screaming.

Theo: Like in fear or like arguing?

Isiah: Well, we just crashed into a building .So probably, probably not excitement, that's for sure.

Val: I think Milo immediately like, wants to react to children screaming with a like, "Oh, we gotta figure out like, like, I don't want people to be afraid. So, you know, as long as like, it's people who don't deserve to be afraid." So he's gonna try and like... Milo's got issues, guys, I think we've established this, and he's gonna he's gonna try and sort of like be the first one out of the door and see, you know what he can do to help out.

Theo: Is the door leading inside the shack or onto the roof?

Laina: You landed on the roof.

Theo: But is the door leading inside, because you said we crashed into the place.

Laina: Yeah, it's leading inside.

Nathan: Celeritas is profusely apologizing for crashing everyone into a building.

Isiah: Imber's consoling him.

Theo: Zenica's following Milo out the front, and is like dusting her shoulder, looking back at Celeritas like, "Celeritas, you're fine." Looks at the kids like, "Sup." Flips them a peace sign.

Isiah: Laina, I have a question.

Laina: I have an answer.

Isiah: Were we told to protect the world border?

Laina: Oh my god, you were not.

Theo: Cut back to Nalia, "I feel like I forgot to say something, oh no!"

Laina: No, that 100% happens.

Theo: She's like drinking a cup of tea and it's like, "Oh no, oh shit.”

Isiah: You can, you can burn a link to make a mild retcon so.

Laina: I mean, I can't burn. I don't think I can do that. That's up to y'all.

Rem: I'm sure that Nalia has links with all of us that she can burn.

Nathan: Besides, she's the GM, you're god, you can do whatever.

Laina: Yeah, that's true. I'm gonna say you were you were told that.

Rem: Were or were not?

Laina: You were told to maintain the world border.

Laina: So in front of you, you see a kid, a very slightly shorter kid wearing a hat with a blue tree on it. And next to him is a slightly taller kid wearing a pink... What's the word? Sweater. That's the word.

Val: Como se dice?

Laina: And the girl in the pink sweater is like, "Oh my gosh, are you like, are you aliens?" And you see the the boy in the hat is like flipping through a journal he has that has a handprint and then the letter three. The letter letter three?

Theo: The letter three.

Laina: The number three on it.

Theo: The letter three. That was my favorite Kubrick film.

Val: Milo is going to take stock of the situation. He is going to run a hand under his long white braid. And he's going to look at both children and say, "Yes."

Isiah: Of course. Immediately blows our cover.

Rem: Aesa has just emerged from the gummi ship, and is like--.

Val: I feel like, I feel like if they think we're aliens, I think that's better than them thinking that we're keyblade wielders trying to...

Isiah: I guess that's fair.

Nathan: Aliens is better than interdimensional travelers. That is a sentence I never thought I'd say.

Theo: Zenica just immediately pushes past Milo and is like, "Hey kids, sup? Also aliens, what are those?" I had a line and forgot it.

Laina: The girl in the pink sweater is, the girl in the pink sweater is kind of jumping up and down. She's like, "Oh my gosh, we've ever met aliens before."

Nathan: "Hello!" Celeritas says, popping out of the door. "Has anything weird happened lately? I mean, besides us."

Laina: Oh yeah, there's been there's been a bunch of hauntings around the place.

Nathan: Is that normal for here, or weird for here?

Laina: Well, we've encountered ghosts before. So it's not that weird.

Nathan: Oh, nice.

Isiah: That sounds normal.

Nathan: I was going for, you know, Celeritas was asking if anything weird has happened, and it's Gravity Falls, so.

Laina: Yeah, things are always weird in Gravity Falls.

Val: Milo is really interested in this book, and the child that has not spoken yet, and so he's like trying to like sort of like crouch because he's very tall. And so he's like trying to crouch and sort of look at the book that like the child is flipping through. And he's like, "What are you trying to read?"

Laina: So the kid in the blue hat- I'm just going to say their names from now on, even though they haven't introduced themselves.

Zenica: By the way, what are your names?

Laina: The girl in the pink sweater is like, "Oh, I'm Mable and this is my twin brother Dipper."

Laina: And Dipper is like, "Oh, this book is..." And he closes it. "It's a secret."

Theo: Zenica immediately rolls up and picks the book out of his hands and starts flipping through it. Very casually, not like a schoolyard bully, just picks it up and starts like, "Hmm."

Rem: Aesa is gonna give him back the book.

Theo: I feel like as she walks past, Aesa walks past the other way.

Rem:She's just like, "No."

Laina: Dipper kind of glares up at Zenica, and then is like, "Thank you," to Aesa.

Theo: "So, that was a lot. I only got a few pages of that. Is a kid like you old enough to be reading a book like that?" She says teasingly.

Dipper: I'll have you know that I am almost 13 years old.

Zenica: Almost 13 years old, that's a crazy age.

Rem: Aesa immediately goes into traumutizing flashbacks of when she was almost 13 years old.

Isiah: Imber goes, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but does that mean that you are 12?"

Laina: Mabel is like, "Yeah, we're 12."

Theo: The geometry gif of like, the fucking, almost 13. Uhhh.

Isiah: Imber nods thoughtfully.

Milo: It even means that they're both 12, Imber, because they're twins.

Nathan: To be fair... Oh, they did say they were twins. Anyway.

Val: Milo's gonna put out two hands towards the twins and be like, "I'm Milo"

Laina: They both shake your hand and Mabels like, "I'm Mable," again even though she already introduced herself.

Theo: Zenica's gonna hop on one of the beds, like sort of reclining, like, "So sorry to crash in like this, but we're looking for something, I guess, right?" And she sort of looks at Imber reflexively, sort of mouthing like...

Imber: I say, "Yes, we are searching for a dark forces that may have appeared recently."

Celeritas: You can't miss them, they're scary shadow monsters, they try to eat people's hearts, it's real messy.

Theo: Dipper, booking intensifies.

Milo: Ghosts. They are ghosts. That's all they are. Ghosts. Like you said to Celeritas.

Laina: Mabel's like, "Yeah, we have we have seen some ghosts around here."

Imber: Could you tell us anything about that? Where they were, where they went, what they did?

Mabel: They were in town. They've been kind of going between houses. They've they've been attacking people. We've been trying to do something about it, but they aren't as friendly as the previous ghosts we've encountered.

Theo: As a side note, I like this idea that we crashed into the top of the Mystery Shack, but thus far, no one else who is regularly in the Mystery Shack has come to investigate.

Rem: Soos has to fix the S again, obviously.

Soos: Aww, I can't believe it. Again.

Nathan: Stan cannot be bothered to investigate.

Imber: And Wendy isn't paid enough for this.

Theo: Grunkle Stan is downstairs like, "You crazy kids!"

Laina: Yeah, we cut to a scene of Grunkle Stan watching... Oh God, that that. Yeah, Duck Detective.

Nathan: It's Ducktective.

Ducktective, and he just kind of looks up and he's like, "Huh."

Theo: It's the episode where Ducktective shoots a newspaper magnet in the face.

Laina: Yes.

Nathan: That was one of my favorites.

Theo: That's a joke someone's gonna get. A very narrow niche of people listening to this is gonna get.

Val: I think Milo would look at the two children and sort of look around and realize like, he doesn't know where anything is in this place. He's gonna look at the two children again, he's gonna be like, "Can you lead us to where you've seen these things attacking things? I'm sure that we can figure out a way..."

Celeritas: And if not you, your parents. Where are your parents? Are there any responsible adults around here? At all?

Laina: Mabel's like, "Well, there's adults but I wouldn't call them responsible," and she kind of like, she goes, "Ahyuck hyuck hyuck."

Isiah: Can I make a link with Mabel?

Laina: Yes, you can make a link Mabel.

Isiah: I want to make a light link with her because she is so charming.

Laina: Okay, so that's 2d6 plus your light stat.

Isiah:That's 1d6 plus light?

Laina: 2d6 plus light.

Isiah: Ah, yes.

Theo: Following him, can I make a mastery link with Dipper, because I feel like Zenica is really interested in that book.

Laina: Okay, yeah.

Theo: Just once Isiah's done rolling. First good roll of the game!

Isiah: I rolled a four!

Theo: I can't believe you rolled a 16, that's not even possible!

Laina: Oh God now that means I have to...

Theo: Well, you can just change the links, you don't have to take a hard move on a failure for making a link.

Laina: Oh yeah.

Rem: You just say it's the wrong link.

Laina: I'm gonna say that Isa instead, or Aesa instead gets the light link with Mabel.

Theo: So I want to roll, I have nothing for mastery, so that's a flat 2d6.

Laina: Also Isiah, or Imber, you get a... You get a... What was that?

Theo: I rolled so good. I'm the best at this game.

Laina: Oh okay yeah, you get you get a mastery link with Dipper, and your link move triggers.

Theo: My link move doesn't normally trigger, but he gets a link with me, because that's how the success works.

Laina: I'm gonna say he also gets a mastery link with you.

Theo: He wants to know how I so smoothly picked the book out of his hand.

Laina: Yeah.

Theo: I didn't even see her coming.

Laina: Imber also gets a... I'm gonna say a heart link with Mabel.

Isiah: Sorry say that again?

Laina: You get a heart link with Mabel.

Isiah: All right.

Theo: Also I get to mark one on my hunted track. For those not in the know with Interstitial, as the Hunted, when certain conditions are met, my hunted track advances, meaning my adversary who's facing me gets closer. One of those things that advances the track? Making a link of any kind.

Laina: I forgot about that. Woo.

Theo: But it was worth it because now I'm going to learn from Dipper about monsters and shit.

Rem: So this is a very important question, does the sweater light up?

Laina: It looks like it does have some lights in it.

Isiah: I wanted to ask what the design of her sweater was this episode.

Laina: I'm gonna say that cuz I'm in a Christmasy mood, it's a Christmas tree.

Isiah: Okay.

Theo: So she's wearing a sweater with the exact same design as her brothers hat.

Laina: Yeah, basically.

Theo: That works.

Nathan: So the moment these two said that there were no responsible adults around, Celeritas immediately entered overprotective big brother mode. So I'm going to roll to make a light link with them.

Laina: Okay.

Theo: Two rolls.

Laina: Two rolls.

Nathan: Woo!

Laina: Okay, so you get a light link with Mabel.

Theo: Oh your link move triggers! The Knucklehead fucking link move triggers.

Rem: What's that?

Laina: He gets, well I'll let him explain, sorry.

Nathan: These two have instantly figured out that I am...

Theo: Well, you have to roll again, you don't get to just get two links off of one roll.

Laina: Yeah, you do have to roll again.

Nathan: I mean...

Laina: Well, I guess Mabel...

Theo: That would be so busted if you could just roll and get 30 successes off of one roll.

Nathan: The thing was, Celeritas sees them as both in the same... It's one link.

Laina: It's for them in tandem.

Nathan: Like with Celeritas' actual sibilings.

Theo: What's it gonna be back, because he succeeded, but they can't both get a link with you with one roll.

Laina: I'm gonna, I'm gonna... Rules are nebulous. I'm gonna say that he gets a light link with both of them, and they both get a light link with him.

Nathan: So, now that they know that I'm the hero of this story, I have a +1 forward to convince them or limit break with them.

Laina: Hell yeah.

Val: So Celeritas, his reaction to there are no responsible adults around here is to go into protective mode, Milo's reaction is to "Oh, so I just had to teach them to be self sufficient." He wants to create mastery links with Mabel and Dipper Pine, teaching them how to how to, you know, reach into themselves. And, you know, make sure that they can take care of themselves. Cuz as far as he knows he they can't do that yet.

Laina: Yeah.

Val: Ooh, that's a fail.

Laina: Okay.

Isiah: You can spend a link and reroll.

Laina: You can spend a link to make a link. Okay, uh.

Theo: I like to say it's dark because they see you being like, "Listen young ones, sometimes you must kill to survive."

Laina: I'm gonna say you get a dark link with them, and they get a dark link with you.

Val: Okay.

Isiah: Good start. Also...

Theo: Sometimes bees will sting you. This is alright, simply eat the bees.

Isiah: Eat the bees. I think how my heart link with Mabel manifests is when I hear that there are no responsible adults. I gain a respect for them for being able to be self sufficient in a world that doesn't properly take care of them. From my very little interactions with them.

All: (Laughs)

Isiah: I definitely think it's way worse than it is

Nathan: Despite that, Imber is the only one that gets that Nipper, Dipper and Mabel are fine.

Theo: Nipper.

Nathan: Shut up.

Theo: Nipper, that's what I got on my pectorals.

Nathan: Stop.

Laina: Okay, so Dipper and Mabel are like, "We can absolutely take you to see the ghosts, just follow us." They head downstairs.

Theo: Zenica slides down the railing.

Rem: Does Grunkle Stan see us?

Laina: Grunkle Stan sees five strangers come down.

Theo: Zenica (inaudible) like, "Sup old man, peace sign, out."

Nathan: Celeritas just says, "By the way, we're aliens, we're sorry we crashed into your roof, we'll be back eventually!" And then bails.

Isiah: Imber says, "Ignore both of them and also me and also the two other people, we'll be out of your hair soon."

Theo: Can we have the canonical scene where as we're leaving through the gift shop, Wendy's reading a magazine at the counter and ignores all of us

Laina: Yeah. 100% Wendy doesn't even notice you exist.

Rem: I can't wait to come back to see our gummi ship on a sales counter.

All: (Laughs)

Theo: We leave, the door closes, Zenica dips back in looks at a snow globe, shakes it, is enthralled, stuffs in her pocket, leaves.

Rem: Zenica no.

Isiah: Zenica just steals a snow globe.

Theo: Zenica's the cool one. But there's no weed in disney.

Isiah: Disnweed. Nope, that doesn't work.

Laina: Okay, so, you head out of the Mystery Shack and I think I'm gonna leave the session off there? If that's okay with everyone else?

Theo: I think we need a hook for like better than just, "And you leave the Mystery Shack."

Laina: You leave the Mystery Shack and you hear off, kind of in the distance towards where the town is. You hear screaming, and you all rush off over there.

Theo: We roll into action. Autobots, roll out.

Rem: We get Aesa to reveal that she has a gun.

Theo: Zenica looks at the camera and says, "I guess, this is about to get serious."

Isiah: Can we can we get like a supernatural force of Gravity Falls like having observed the scene and laughs to itself? Like like Bill Cypher is like "Aliens, huh?"

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