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loruleanheart · 4 years ago

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Desired Fate, Chapter 13

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One step closer to Hyrule Castle and one second closer to the Calamity…

And Zelda was no closer to awakening her power than when she began all those years ago.

Zelda cast a side-glance at Astor, who walked beside her. He was being very quiet, almost mirroring her dour mood. What was he thinking? He looked completely absorbed in his own headspace. She wondered what sort of inner demons he must have been fighting. He must have been under a great deal of pressure just as she was. What was it like to serve an ancient evil and be expected to be the perfect instrument to bring about its revival? Not to mention trying to turn away from such a destiny.

He’s changing... I was somehow able to persuade him, and now maybe he could be the key in turning back Calamity Ganon since it seems I won’t be able to… What if I’m being too optimistic? Believing he could change... Or that I had anything to do with it… He’ll always see me as the pathetic royal girl that can’t wield her power. He’ll never see me as anything more. He’ll never love me… Or anyone for that matter... Possibly why he turned to Ganon in the first place... Not that any of us are going to live long enough to worry about that, and it will be my fault...

Astor looked down to Zelda, who seemed as though she were about to break into tears again at any moment.

“I must envision a life after the Calamity, I must...” Zelda said aloud and to herself.

Hylia’s prophecy echoed in Astor’s mind. He wondered if those words could set Zelda’s mind at ease. If so, it seemed almost cruel not to tell her. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words out loud. What if Zelda shut down the same way he had when Hylia had told him? For all he knew Hylia had noticed his weakness and had come up with a lie to tempt him, Ganon’s chosen, exploiting his weakness to gain the advantage in the war against her greatest enemy. There was no way the goddess herself had ordained THAT for the girl that bore her namesake and her blood.

Yet, Zelda had been unreasonably kind to him. She had ordered her knight to spare him, even after he tried to kill her. She had gone above and beyond in reasoning and pleading with him. There was the way she looked at him, spoke to him. She made him feel desired. But how could that be? Astor briefly wondered if this was Hylia’s doing as well, as far-fetched an idea as it was, but Astor was running out of explanations for Zelda’s behavior towards him. Weren’t the royal daughters supposed to be able to hear the voice of the goddess?

“Zelda…” Astor paused, trying to get used to using her given name. “Does the goddess ever speak to you?”

“No… Not really… I’ve had these dreams though... but I can never quite hear her words.”

This answer satisfied him. Zelda seemed to be unaware of anything Hylia had planned. Her actions and words towards him were genuine.

“There’s something I can’t quite wrap my mind around... Why aren’t you afraid of me? Why don’t you hate me or find me repugnant? For all that I am, and all that I’ve done… Anyone else would.”

“There’s something about you… I can’t describe it.”

“I’m not worthy of whatever it is you feel for me…”

“That's not how it works… It just is…”

“But I swore myself to Calamity Ganon for so long… I am damned.”

“I refuse to believe that.”

“What about that knight? You must have feelings for him?”

“You mean Link? Why do you say that?”

Astor braced himself for what he would say next, but he knew it couldn’t go unsaid if he wanted to show any kind of true compassion towards Zelda.

“You’re fated to unlock your power because of him. It was a vision given to me by my harbinger.”

Zelda stopped in her tracks. It was a lot to take in. “So I haven’t failed after all? It’s really going to happen? Why would you tell me that?”

“I guess to redeem myself a bit, though what I’ve done up until now is unforgivable... I want to help you because you spared my life and helped me to see the truth about Calamity Ganon, and you seemed like you needed to hear it.”

“That’s surprisingly kind of you… But I don’t know if I believe it… I’ve already had my hopes raised and dashed so many times.” Zelda paused for a long moment. “But if an individual could be the thing to bring out my power, I... I want it to be you.”

“I can’t be that person for you…Fate has already decreed it…” He said in a soft, sullen way.

They walked in silence a bit longer.

Astor thought of the Harbinger. Its absence didn’t bode well. It was likely aware of what its seer was up to and it certainly wouldn't let such grievous disloyalty go unpunished.

Astor’s eyes darted around his surroundings. Astor had never been afraid of his Harbinger before, but now he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was capable of doing something really horrible to him.

After some time, they reached a high cliff overlooking Kakariko Village. She had passed through the village on her way to Mount Lanayru in the early morning hours before anyone would be awake to see her, now the village was bustling.

Astor hadn’t set foot in a village in ages, and as soon as they started to cross paths with other people, Astor remembered why. The Sheikah Villagers were giving them odd looks, and of course they would. This village was pretty closed off from the rest of Hyrule. It was rare for them to see non-Sheikah.

A couple of small children darted past them, laughing, barely acknowledging their presence or personal space as children often did.

A Sheikah woman standing outside of a garment shop smiled at them, trying to wave them down. “Pretty clothes for your girlfriend?” The woman said sweetly.

Astor gave an exasperated, flustered moan, drawing his hood further down his brow.

“No, not today, but thank you,” Zelda responded kindly to the Sheikah shopkeep, beaming and radiating a sense of joy even for a moment. Her smile was like the sun, and any doubts Astor had dried up and disappeared. She loved him, and nothing seemed to be able to sway her. Hylia’s prophecy was one step closer to being realized.

I could tell her the prophecy, and she might just die of happiness…. Astor thought darkly. Loving her. Loathing her. He still couldn’t shake his aversion of Zelda realizing her power. It was too deeply ingrained. Although now he suspected that it was out of jealousy for the knight. And then there was Hylia’s prophecy which filled him with a feeling that had been foreign to him until lately. It was a feeling that both disgusted and thrilled him. But he couldn’t summon the words to tell her. Saying them would breathe them into existence even more so.

They passed houses and other shops, including an inn. Other Sheikah villagers were taking notice of them.

“Isn’t that Princess Zelda?” one of the Sheikah villagers whispered loudly to another.

Astor walked faster, eager to clear the village. Zelda walked a little faster, too, despite that her legs felt heavy from covering so many miles.

They made their way through a wide-open valley known as Sahasra Slope, which boasted a magnificent view of Hyrule Castle.

“Father is going to be so cross with me…”

Astor looked at Zelda strangely. She kept bringing up her father. It was almost like she was afraid of him. More afraid of her own father than she was of him… which really said something. Astor knew just enough about the royal family to make some assumptions.

“Does he believe the same as the people in your court?”

Zelda flinched. “Oh… You know about that…? It feels that way sometimes.”

“I don’t understand. You’re the one with the blood of the goddess. Shouldn’t he be worshiping the ground you walk on?”

“Well… He doesn’t see it that way. Tough love, I suppose…”

“What does he have to be angry about? Aside from you breaking custom to go to the Spring of Wisdom? Not a reason to be angry, if you ask me. This is a war, after all. You’re just doing what you must to have the potential to be victorious.”

Zelda looked at Astor with surprise. “You really believe that?”

“I’m… I was... Ganon’s chosen… I’m not ignorant or blind, although I suppose it would be accurate to say that Ganon kept me blind for so long. It’s important to understand your enemy. Your father is a fool. Trust me on this.”

“Hmm…” Zelda hummed. “What about your parents? What were they like?”

“I never knew them… I grew up in an orphanage in Deya Village.”

“Oh… I’m sorry… Now I feel silly for complaining.”

“It's fine. It stopped bothering me years ago and it’s beyond irrelevant now.”

They crossed the Rebonae bridge, on the last leg of their journey, and passed through a vast apple orchard, slightly off from Zelda’s original course.

The sky grew a vibrant orange as they entered Hyrule Castle Town. Zelda gave an audible exhale. “… Almost home…” She knew she had to prepare herself for anything now.

Astor jolted when Zelda took hold of his hand. She was barely aware of how tightly she held onto him. But he felt her… or rather a time in the future where she would squeeze his hand with such intensity, to the point of pain. Her ragged breath was in his ear, as she braced herself against him. A wave of intense emotion washed over him and he...

...ripped his hand away, Zelda looking at him puzzled and a little hurt.

“Whenever you touch me… I see and feel things.”

“Oh… Do these things displease you?” That wounded expression lingered on her face.

“I… I suppose it doesn’t…” He said, offering his hand to her. The vision didn’t continue, but it still left him stunned and strangely longing for more.

The streets were almost as devoid of life as they had been the night before. No one gave them more than a cursory glance as they passed by.

They walked up the winding brick pathway that led up to the castle, and when they reached the sanctum, all four champions, Impa, and Link turned to them as they appeared in the doorway. All was eerily quiet as they came forward. Zelda’s eyes were red from crying and everyone looked with suspicion at Astor. Link placed his hand on the hilt of the Master Sword.

Urbosa and Impa ran to Zelda.

“Well if this isn’t a fine how do you do?” Said Revali in a dry tone. “We all thought the princess was in danger when in reality she was just off on some tryst. The Calamity is about to occur at any moment, and we’re all miles away from our Divine Beasts with our fingers in our tailfeathers...”

“Oh, Revali. Go suck an egg. This is NOT the time.” Urbosa chastised the rito, and then she turned to Zelda. “Are you alright, little bird? Where were you? And why is HE here?” Urbosa looked at Astor with great dismay and distrust.

“Urbosa, remember when you said you would always support me and to just say the word? This is it... I need your support now more than ever.”

Urbosa considered this, her azure blue lips parting slightly, although at a loss for words.

“Tell me what's going on? I’m all ears.”

“Alright, now that Zelda is safe and sound, can we get back to our Divine Beasts and forget this whole asinine situation.” Revali interrupted again.

Astor spoke up. “That’s exactly where Calamity Ganon wants you when he returns. Ganon’s blights are set to take over the Divine beasts and kill their pilots.

Everyone turned to Astor with a look of disbelief. Mipha reached for Link’s hand for support, but stopped short, growing self-conscious.

“And why should we believe you, vile follower of the Calamity? How do we know you’re not trying to set us up? You may have convinced the Princess, but it’s going to take a lot more to gain our trust.” Urbosa responded curtly.

“Urbosa!” Zelda protested.

“Forgive me, little bird. You may have shown this man mercy, but I won’t…”

“I believe him,” said Daruk.

Urbosa turned to Daruk. “You’re kidding right?”

“I mean, he sounds sincere enough to me.”

Mipha quickly assessed the energy between Princess Zelda and Astor and intervened, speaking. “I believe him as well… Or rather I believe Princess Zelda. Let’s give him a chance before we jump to rash conclusions.”

Urbosa turned her ire back to Astor. “What are you trying to pull?”

“I’m not trying to pull anything. You can take my warning or leave it, for all I care. I just wanted to spare Zelda the heartache of losing her champions.”

Urbosa folded her arms. “I swear if you hurt her I’m going to cut you up piece by piece and feed you to the Molduga. She is precious to me and I must do right by my dear friend, Zelda’s late mother… We Gerudo have our ways of dealing with voe who take advantage of one of our vai, especially when said voe is a member of the Yiga… or an affiliate.”

“Do I make myself clear, Prophet?”

“Crystal…”

King Rhoam appeared on the balcony, alerted by the commotion of the Champions.

“What is the meaning of this…. Zelda? You’ve returned? What were you thinking, running… quite literally running from your duty when the Calamity is nearly at hand?” There was much derision in his voice.

“I did no such thing. I would never.” Zelda’s voice wavered. She wasn’t surprised her father would make this accusation, but it still hurt terribly.

“Then. where. were. you?” Rhoam said evenly, and in a way that shook Zelda to the core.

“I went to the Spring of Wisdom… In a bid to unlock my power. I’ve failed. I’m sorry. I didn’t feel anything. Just like all my other attempts.”

King Rhoam shut his eyes. “That was not your decision to make. You know it is forbidden for you to set foot on Mount Lanayru until you are of age. For all you know your disobedience may have cost all of Hyrule!”

Zelda began to break down. “But…”

“No more excuses, Zelda! You are to spend the rest of the night in prayer, asking the goddess for forgiveness and discernment, and so help me, you WILL unlock your power.”

Zelda clenched her fist. “No, I won’t! I’m not a child anymore. Please stop ordering me around like one. We must prepare to oppose the Calamity in whatever way we can, and I won’t waste another second praying for this cursed power to awaken!”

“Zelda, you are out of line, and I will not tolerate another word from you!” Rhoam raised his voice, almost shouting. “There is no excuse for this behavior. As long as I am King, you will obey me. Your mother would be very disappointed in you, Zelda. What a waste…”

“You should watch your tongue, old man… How could you speak thus of the one who carries the blood of the goddess? Perhaps it is you who should beg forgiveness.”

Everyone went deadly silent as they directed their attention to Astor.

Rhoam glared at the younger man, indignantly, taken aback by his words. He felt a deep sense of suspicion just from the look of him. There was a darkness about the young man that gave Rhoam a great sense of disquiet. “You… You must be the prophet I’ve heard about. What role do you play in all this? And who are you to tell me how to speak to my daughter? You know nothing of the responsibilities I have to my kingdom or of the pressures of raising a daughter of the royal family.”

Astor was about to protest when something violently rocked the very foundation of the castle. Everyone braced themselves, gasping.

Zelda’s eyes widened, horror in her expression. “It cannot be…” Zelda raced outside, already knowing what she would see. Everyone followed her out.

She looked up and sure enough, the worst had come to pass, and it was beyond her worst nightmare. Circling and raging around the highest spire was a purple-red miasma. It was just like the image on the Sheikah Slate, except now Zelda could make out that it resembled a great swine. There was a clap of thunder, and embers of malice floated down all around them.

“Ganon…” Zelda stared up at the being in terrible fear as 100,000 wretched screams of despair rang out across Hyrule.

#Astor #Age of Calamity #hwaoc #Zelast #I apologize for the abundance of Zelast in this chapter #I'm sorry #But alive Astor is a good Astor #Imnotsorry

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nora-sutton · 4 years ago

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Guys, please help! I’m not sure if this is any good and I don’t have any beta readers to tell me if this sucks or not. 🙈This is just an idea that I’ve been working on but if you think it’s alright or would like to read a part two, let me know. Thanks!

——————

Dark smoke billowed from the city below me. The horrid cries and pungent smell of burned flesh omitting from the city dwellers below made me thankful and ashamed all at once for the chaos I had put them through. I knew the fate of these people, and I selfishly didn’t prevent it. These dying people had been a perfect diversion, a perfect opportunity to shove my dagger between the ribs of a blood-thirsty ruler.

A shuddering sob pushes its way out of me and for the first time in what felt like eternity, I can breathe again. It was finally over. After fifty years, chained and tethered to that sick, twisted mad-man of a ruler.

Thank you, Gods. I sob again. He’s dead. That was the last time he’d ever hurt you. You made it out, not entirely unscratched, but all in one piece. The scars and burns along my body only solidified the lengths I was willing to go to leave this prison. Cities and kingdoms burn every day, but I’d bet the dead ruler of this one never saw it coming. Never saw Me coming. But I did.

I saw it burning long before I was ever in this world. The scrolls in Anathema had sealed their fates centuries before this city had ever been thought to be built. They had just neglected to count me as the sole reason for its demise.

I stared down at the burning, gods-forsaken city that had held me captive for nearly fifty years. All the years of hurt and pain and torture seemed to breach the surface of my emotions,bubbling and festering like the burns across my milky flesh. It was too much. The pain, the emotions. I hadn’t felt real emotions since I had been taken and all at once they surfaced to the top. My weak knees could no longer support me. My knees hit the ground hard, causing even more damage to the cuts and bruises they carried.

White strands of my hair were plastered to my tear stained cheeks and layers upon layers of dried blood with it. My tormentors’ blood. The blood of a tyrant. A very, very dead tyrant.

Oh, Gods. I actually killed someone. Me. A Sage. Someone who vowed before the mother goddess herself, to never take a life, be that human or otherwise.

I shouldn’t be so struck by that, after seeing people die every day in the castle, I should’ve grown a strong stomach from it. The palace guards used to show off the traditional tattoos that were ceremonially inked after every kill. But I’ve never had to physically be the one to drive the blade through someone’s heart.

You did it to get out. You did it to survive. You’re not a bad person.

This was all too much. The once warm blood now sticking to me like honey, the pungent smell of the burning city and its dwellers, the absolute hate I fell for myself.

Nausea rolls through me. And I leaned away to the nearby bushes just in time to vomit.

The sheltered world I was brought up in was long behind me.

I painstakingly picked myself up and began the long trek down to Ginzis meeting point. Our plan, for the most part, hadn’t failed yet, but if I didn’t reach the caravan before the king’s guards found me, then I knew I’d be brought to the castle and publicly burned at the stake.

I had no time to lose, I needed to find safety.

Ginzi said it would be placed near the rear entrance of the castle’s underground tunnel. All I need to do is find it, and then a life of abuse and misery would be forever behind me. No more panic between his visits, no more tears of hatred and despair when he pushed himself into my unwilling body, no more suicide attempts. Gods, a life of peace felt almost in my reach. So close to my outstretched fingers but far enough away that they only brushed them. But I knew hope was a dangerous thing for a woman like me.

The rear entrance to the castle tunnels put me far too close to the outskirts of where the castle met the Aubin Forest. Being non-human wouldn’t guarantee me safe passage through it but I was willing to take my chances. Gypsies, like Ginzi, were the only humans who were bat-shit-crazy enough to travel through it and end up unscratched on the other side. I would probably be eaten alive without Ginzis help.

The Aubin Forest was a place that housed the ancient creatures of this world. The king had told me once after one of his crueler punishments that even the gods had turned their backs on the Forest. The overgrown trees made it hard to travel through and if one of the creatures didn’t eat you first, then the wicked trees would. Anyone who went through the forest was either on a death mission or trying to escape from something.

I’d rather be torn apart by some otherworldly creatures, than to be burned alive by the hands of the deceased kings’ men. Nothing could be more deadly and dangerous than that mad-man and his obedient followers.

I’d take my chances.

The ends of my blood stained gown collected more and more mud as I ran down the wet hill. The horrid sounds of the villagers’ cries were loud and piercing that I hadn’t heard the rumbles of thunder in the distance, but by time I had made it down the slope of the hill, a downpour of rain had begun.

Silently, I thank whatever gods that were out there for causing the storm.

In my haste to escape the castle, I had forgotten about the kings hunting dogs.I was positive that they had already been sent out to find me.

Climbing over fallen tree limbs and sliding through wet mud was more straining for me than any activities I had been allowed to do in the castle. By the time I had reached the entrance to the castle's rear tunnel, I was sweating and gasping for breath.

Panting, I searched my surroundings, looking for Ginzis white caravan.

Lightning strikes, illuminating my surroundings and then my heart drops, fresh tears collected in my eyes.

The caravan wasn’t here.

No, no, no, no! Where was he at? Why wasn’t he here?

My mind was racing. I could feel how exhausted my body was and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to push it much further. This was my only way out! Ginzi said he would be here waiting for me. So where was he now?

With my mind still reeling, I heard in the distance the sound of dogs barking. No, not just one bark, but several barks. Meaning multiple dogs and where multiple dogs are, their masters are never far behind.

Oh, gods. They found me.

For a moment, it seemed like the whole world had stopped. A coldness so familiar had settled in, one that hadn’t been caused by the freezing rain, and I knew I had to brace myself for the despair that was about to crash into me.

This was the end. I was going to die today.

The barking was becoming louder. I knew that they were about to be upon me at any moment.

The world had been so cruel to me. I had fought for my freedom. Killed for it. And now I was going to die a failure and a coward, here in this godsforsaken place or strapped to a burning stake.

At this moment, all I wanted to do was lay down and forget about this world. I wanted to wake up back at Anathema and begin my daily lessons like how I used to. I wanted to see my brothers and sisters laughing and smiling again. I wanted to go back to the ignorant life I had once lived before I was brought here.

I closed my eyes and for a moment, I could see the smiles on my sibling’s faces and smell the aged books I had once studied.

The snap of a tree branch had me opening my eyes and I turned my head in its direction.

Through the rain and lightning, I could just make out the shape of a person. A very large person. A person who was standing not in the human’s territory but in the forests.

For a moment, I thought I must’ve been dreaming. That, or I died already. But when the sky illuminated again and he was still standing there, I knew I hadn’t made him up.

“What is it that you need, Seer?” he said. But his mouth hadn’t moved.

My heart dropped.

Again, he said, “What is it that you need, Seer?”

He was speaking in my mind and he hadn’t said any of those words out loud.

My heart raced and I knew that I was looking at one of the forsaken creatures who dwelled inside the forest.

I couldn’t make out his face, but by his build, I knew that he could crush any man who tried to face him off in battle. His shoulders were broad and firm, and he was taller than any of the human men I had ever encountered. Even with him being cloaked in darkness, I could tell that he was a handsome man.

Finding my words, I answered out loud, “I-I need protection.”

“From what, Seer?” he asked, his voice echoing throughout my head.

I opened my mouth to answer but the howl of a dog cut me off.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I sent once final prayer up to the gods and swallowed. Taking a breath, I stared into the black void that concealed the creatures face and answered.

“From this world.”

And with those words, my world was thrown into darkness

#writing advice #writing problems #bookblr #writeblr #fantasy #fiction #books and libraries #writers #wip excerpt #current wip #beta reader #beta request

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clacolu95 · 4 years ago

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Aether: Love Solutions

Chapter 2: Midnight Blue Sky

Previous Chapter > Chapter 1: Crimson Resonance

Next Chapter > Chapter 3: Blackout

________________________________________

Any other day Gladion would have waken-up by six and prepared himself some breakfast. Any other day he’d have taken a long warm shower, driven to the company by taking the same path as always, and finally arrived at the building by 8:00 a.m.

...Any other day he’d have greeted his employees cordially, not minding the murmurs on the hallway, or the usual meetings around the water jug or the coffee maker. He wouldn’t have cared about the common sight of people having breakfast in their cubicles, or even catching someone distracted on their cell phone.

Today, though, was not just any other day.

It was the day of the month in which his mother always visited to review his performance.

Today, after waking up at 5:30 a.m., drinking plain black coffee instead of having breakfast, and taking a 5 minute cold shower, he drives towards the company and by 6:30 a.m. he’s working on his paperwork.

Once the clock hits 8:00 a.m., though, he exits his office and heads towards the cubicle area. He scoffs loudly, catching everyone’s attention before deciding to speak.

“I want to see everyone in their place. I need you quiet. Working. And without any sort of food on your desks for the rest of the day” He sentences, earning a confused look from the crowd of seers “Anyone who disobeys these orders will be fired immediately, thank you for your cooperation”.

The employees grow wary at the threat, neither of them daring to word a single thought, and for a moment the building grows silent… A silence only disturbed by the sound of the elevator doors opening barely 30 seconds later.

Lusamine comes out of the elevator with her usual elegant posture. She greets the employees politely before turning around towards the blond.

“Mother” He greets her with a simple nod, as he’s suddenly made aware of the person accompanying her “...And Lillie” He finishes, extending his arm towards his office as if inviting both of them inside.

The young blonde approaches him quickly, pretty much running towards him and smashing their bodies in a tight embrace that startles the young CEO considerably. “Brother…” The 23-year-old blonde mutters with a giant smile on her face, and even though Gladion is rarely seen showing emotions Moon catches a hint of a smile in his usually composed face.

“Hi, Lillie...” He repeats caringly, separating himself from her after a long hug and walking alongside his mother and sister towards his office.

________________________________________

“I found his weakness today…” The female seer tells his friend after a sip of her coffee, and even though Hau very well knows who she’s talking about, there’s still a part of him that doesn’t want to ask her about it.

“Who’s weakness?” He asks defeatedly after a long moment of silence and earning an excited squeal from the girl in front of him.

“ President Gladion’s weakness, of course…” He doesn’t quite get the reason behind the obvious evil grin on her face, behind the evident satisfaction that this conversation causes her.

“Does every seer hate other seers’ guts this much, or is it just you?” He questions, though the grin in his face tells her that that Alolan male is just messing with her.

She wonders if she’s truly an odd one.

“I’m trying to prove a point to him” She explains as she opens up her bag and takes her tablet out of it with one swift motion “And it just occurred to me how to do just that”

He watches her turn the device on, and in less than a second, the boy recognizes the slim blonde whose photo is now loaded in Moon’s matchmaking software.

“Is that Lillie…?” He asks the seer with a hushed tone she doesn’t quite know how to interpret.

The matchmaker nods eagerly, zooming in the photo and calibrating the device with her blue color palette on the bottom. The sight of the blue-based palette on Lillie’s profile manages to make Hau’s stomach stir. “Did she ask you to do that?”

The question doesn’t go unnoticed by the black-haired girl, though it’s still not enough to take her gaze off of the tablet. She gasps in delight once she finds the color that most resembles Gladion’s sister aura, a deep, gray based blue with some hints of purple.

“ Midnight blue… ” She murmurs contentedly, happy with how fast she’d managed to find the color on Lillie’s aura even with just a picture. Once everything’s calibrated, though, and she has entered the girl’s data on her software, her attention goes back to Hau as she struggles to remember her friend’s most recent question.

“No she didn't” She answers, and as the words leave her lips she can swear she hears her friend sigh, Though she’s not sure if it is a sigh of relief or one of disappointment. She settles for the last option, as it wouldn’t make sense for him to sigh with relief after a comment like that. “But I don’t think she’ll complain. I mean I’ve known her since kindergarten, and it’s not like she has a boyfriend already or anything like that…”

She grins as her plan begins to take shape inside her head “Who else to prove Gladion wrong than her beloved sister, after all?”

Hau groans in annoyment for the 3rd time that night, his usual cheerful attitude shoved aside by the seer’s comment “I think you’re taking this too personal” He sentences, snatching the girl’s tablet from her grasp “Lillie is our friend. If she needed your help she would have asked for it a long time ago”

She reaches for her tablet, only by it to be taken out of her grasp by Hau. “You’re involving Lillie in your problems with her brother”

“I’m not!”

“You are!” He screams, evading the seer’s reach. Denying her the chance to get her tablet back as that would also mean losing her attention to his arguments “And why does it matter that much what Gladion thinks of your system? What does it even matter what he thinks of you?!”

Her face grows of the shade of a tomato at her friend’s question and the jumping and struggling suddenly stops. They’re both left speechless after Hau’s interrogation, his hand still firmly grabbing the girl’s device as high as he could, out of the seer’s reach. He watches her struggle to come up with an answer, suddenly realizing he’d accidentally stepped over a seemingly difficult subject for her, his eyes grow wide as her cheeks grow redder “...Moon are you…?” He questions, not quite knowing how to formulate it “...with Gladion?”

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#gladion x moon #lonashipping #pokemon #pokemon sun and moon #pokemon fanfiction #lonashippingweek2020 #lonashippingweek

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docfuture · 5 years ago

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Princess, part 8

[This story is a prequel, set several years before The Fall of Doc Future, when Flicker is 16. Links to some of my other work are here. Updates are theoretically biweekly–going to try to get the next one out by mid-March.]

Previous: Part 7

Journeyman ran his fingers through his hair and sighed as he looked at the picture Flicker sent to his handcomp. "Yep, that's her," he said. "Dr. Reinhart has a rep of knowing a lot about how minds are put together--and how to take them apart. She seems to be effectively immune to mental influence and hostile probability manipulation--no, I don't know how she manages that--and I've heard enough complaints to believe that she can mess up Diviners and Seers just by being near what they're trying to see. Not sure about Oracles. Also, she's hard to kill. If she's willing to help you, I doubt she'd be a weak point." "That sounds good. Except that the Database says her specialty is mind control. But I guess she concentrates on defense? That part wasn't clear." "A lot about her isn't clear," said Journeyman. "She is very good at using fear, though. General opinions I hear about her are mixed. I have connections, and while I keep them private, the general idea isn't a secret--I swap gossip, assistance, and so forth, move things around, and link people with what they need, all fairly quietly. Dr. Reinhart clearly has connections, but nobody knows how they work. She can show up somewhere, have coffee with a few folks, and sometimes everything stays quiet, and sometimes all hell breaks loose. Odd accidents, fits of madness, sudden unexplained deaths from no obvious cause, and occasionally 'Blood--blood everywhere!' And afterwards the details of what happened don't always add up. Except usually some grim entrenched problem has disappeared. That part is acknowledged, but she still really puts people on edge. Oh, and there are rumors that she's seriously annoyed several intelligence agencies, but they're still trying to hire or co-opt her. Jumping Spider would know more about that than me." "Well, I needed to talk to Jumping Spider anyway." Flicker frowned. "Anything else?" "I don't doubt Dr Reinhart's competence to advise you about social interaction." Journeyman looked down. "Motivation, methods, side effects? That's over my head, but I would expect some warnings from your AI." "Why? Just her reputation?" "Well... I know Doc is twitchy about mind control, and Dr. Reinhart apparently has issues with his methods. And the spy stuff." "She has a negative threat index--that means she's helping. Doc is pragmatic about that." "Up to a point." Journeyman spread his hands. "Anyway, that's what I can tell you. Hope it helps." "Yes." Flicker sped up to virtual type a response to Dr. Reinhart, then slowed back down again. "There. She's traveling, and pretty inflexible about privacy, so it will be at least a few days before I can meet her, regardless." She stood up from the high speed interface station and glided over to stop in front of Journeyman where he sat on the couch. He watched her warily. "Thank you," she said, and paused. "I'm willing to at least consider rescheduling Speedtest, but I don't want to argue about it right now. You don't feel safe here and you probably need sleep. How much did you get last night?" He shrugged. "A few hours before you woke me up. None since." "Then get sleep, consult your Diviners or whatever, and we can talk more tomorrow." "Might take a while to find anybody. If I even can. Tracking down Diviners is rarely easy." He looked away. "And Flicker? I don't want to argue about it at all. I'll send what I find to the Database. Argue with Doc, or Jumping Spider, or Jetgirl, or whoever you need to. Not me." "I don't..." Flicker stopped and swallowed. "Argue isn't the right word. It's just the one that sounded human to me. And my anger isn't really at you, that's just where I attach it. I think there's something wrong with my human emulation." Journeyman shook his head. "No. Humans make mistakes, and they get angry, and no one should expect anything different. Least of all me. This isn't something we can solve. Sometimes you can't get from where you are to where you want to be." "And what I want is the problem." He waved his arms. "No! I'm the problem. I thought I could still finesse a way through, despite everything stacked against it, and I. Was. Wrong. And that's why I have to go." "Partner..." She stopped again. "Damn. Having an emotional reaction to that word." "...Yeah." He blinked then raised his hand. "I'm sorry I don't have any magic words for you. Primum non nocere is all I've got left." Flicker pulled off her glove and reached out to complete their fingertip touch. "Take care," he said. She couldn't find anything to say. So she just nodded. Journeyman took a deep breath and teleported out. A faint whirl of disturbed air, then nothing. Flicker looked around the room. It felt far emptier than was reasonable. ***** Evening back home, pre-dawn in Kenya. Flicker didn't want to wake up Jonathan or his family, but Chaser was awake and running to greet her as soon as she slowed down. Flying tackle and friend bites and his ridiculously tiny meow, and they played chase dance and dangle the fuzzy toy the way he liked. Then he flopped down on her feet and purred as she held him. Chaser wasn't her cat. He wasn't anyone's cat. He was his own cheetah. But Flicker had rescued him as a kitten, taken him far away from the lions that had killed his siblings. It wasn't clear what had killed their mother, but life was full of perils for cheetahs, especially when they had to share shrinking habitat with lions. He stayed with the family of a park ranger, on land Flicker had purchased next to a wildlife reserve. Extravagant? Maybe, but it wasn't hard to figure out why she'd identified so hard with an orphan who had social problems with other cheetahs. Time zones made visits awkward, and they still hoped to reintroduce him back to the wild someday, but in the meantime she could hold him close, and whisper that he was a good cat. He purred and didn't mind her tears from trying to accept a present that had crumbled unexpectedly, and a hoped for future that had been a mirage. He didn't judge, didn't care whether she was human or not; she was just his fast friend. An hour under a slowly brightening sky made the world a slightly better place. Still not good, but better. ***** Later evening. Ghosting through the darkness at 500 kilometers per second. Flicker was moving fast enough to be effectively invisible, but slow enough to leave no traces behind her. It fit her mood--she didn't particularly want to be anywhere. But there was someone she needed to talk to at Doc's. Superhuman speed implied a superhuman ability to interrupt. So Flicker and Doc had worked out a protocol that allowed for degrees of urgency and desire to avoid disruption. 'Open door' had a particular implication because of Flicker's dislike of them. It was a way for Doc to indicate that she could join a meeting in progress, but it would be polite to wait and listen quietly until an appropriate pause, absent an emergency. At Doc's. Flicker entered the recovery room next to one of the med labs, sat in one of the chairs, and slowed down. She didn't say anything. Jumping Spider was sitting up with her left leg extended. Something complicated covered the knee--it looked like one of Doc's support and monitoring minibots. Doc was frowning at a large display showing... Not her leg. Her left jump boot. Which wasn't in the room, though her spare pair was. A quick Database check showed her main boots were down in one of the big fabbers in Doc's workshop being repaired. "...crash cushioning cells seem to have handled the landing fine," Doc was saying, "and at least blunted the impact. Still..." "They did the job," said Jumping Spider. "Sometimes a gust of wind hits you at just the wrong time, and one did, right after I'd hopped off the roof." "The fourth story roof. Over icy concrete. In a blizzard." "Yeah, it was Tuesday. Wednesdays are overpasses. Hi Flicker." "Hello. What happened?" "Nothing major. I banged up my knee a little yesterday and used the crash guards on my left boot. Doc's going to give the boots a checkup, recalibrate the jump jets, and--" She turned her head to look at Doc. "Not stay up all night making minor improvements. Right?" Doc raised an eyebrow. "I am most definitely going to run unit tests after the tuneup and the data updates." "That will only take an hour or two. And Flicker wants to talk to me anyway." Flicker didn't understand how Doc's relationship with Jumping Spider worked, except that it did. It was close, but they usually saw each other only a few times a month. Jetgirl described it as 'co-conspirators with benefits.' There had to be more than that after almost two decades, but Flicker didn't get how most more typical relationships functioned either. "All right," said Doc. He nodded to Flicker. "I'll give the two of you privacy, then." "Thank you," said Flicker. Doc must have read her expression--or more likely her 'No personal small talk currently welcome' Database flag--and left the room without further comment. Jumping Spider pulled the swivel arm table with a Database interface over so she could use it. "We're secure--privacy locked," she said. "Yes, from Doc too. Check." DASI was insistent on leaving up the warning flag on Flicker's visor about limiting Doc's access in his own HQ, but she confirmed the privacy lock. "Verified," said Flicker. "Now we can talk," said Jumping Spider. "My knee isn't much worse than usual. But I heard you are. Doc says you seem determined to push a hazardous test series on short notice and you don't look happy. Did Journeyman just turn you down or did you manage something stupider?" Jumping Spider could be tactful. She usually chose to be blunt with Flicker. They weren't friends, but Flicker tried to listen to her advice, because she was right far too often to ignore. "Both," said Flicker. "I don't think I have a partner anymore." "You don't think? Want to tell me what happened?" "No. But I should. I'd been pushing patrols for a while and was off duty yesterday when I got an alert that Hermes was back..." Flicker summarized the mess of the last two days, with a pause while Jumping Spider watched the vid of the handover of Hermes at the Box. It was even less pleasant to explain than she'd expected. She had to bounce up to speed mind several times to maintain her composure while staying on track. Jumping Spider said she would save any questions for later, which was just as well. "...and after he ported out," Flicker finished, "I did memory assimilation work, then visited with Chaser until the Database told me you were available. It's been a long day." "It sure has," said Jumping Spider. "The Database security AI called me for help. It needed a human other than Doc with the right clearance level bad. You ignored warnings, bypassed the blocks, and managed to set off a cross-domain priority conflict and a legacy conflict this afternoon. Why settle for one crisis at a time when you can have more?" "Um. Those were for something that actually helped." "A book that flaunts that it's full of traps in the dedication and you're sure it helped?" "Well... I'm running sims." "Yeah. You do that." Jumping Spider smiled sardonically. "Why was the cross-domain priority conflict so bad, anyway?" "Because the AI was forbidden from telling Doc about something in one domain, and required to tell him in another--and he's normally the one that resolves those conflicts. And you were no help, because you were causing it. So it had to call me, because I was the next person in line with clearance. I figured I'd better drop what I was doing to deal with what you stirred up. Doc was already on the way to get me when you sent your message about Dr. Reinhart--his flying car does come in handy sometimes. And I have heard of her. But I need to do some Database poking before I'm willing to make a judgement, so are you up for doing some tedious but necessary work to help me fill in a few holes? It would make up for what I had to drop, and let me test something." "Depends. What kind of work?" "Spying. Under the direction of someone who knows what she's doing. That's why most of it will be boring. But it will also involve a lot of purposeful running around, which I'm guessing you could use. You've amply demonstrated how fast you go stir-crazy. I want to double check some clues to whatever was wrong at the Box that they didn't want you to see, and have you take a quick look in some other places. I expect a lot of verification of negatives, or whatever is in the Database, but I have a nasty suspicious mind and suspiciously nasty things have been happening." "...Yeah. Okay. It'll be slower in the dark, though." "Oh, some parts will be in daylight." Flicker waited a moment, and the Database projected the outline of a list that was far too long to fit on her visor display. It started with a survey of just who was staking out the home of the magician she'd talked to at the Box, and included whole sets of vehicles and buildings associated with spy agencies and less identifiable groups. "All right," she said, and headed out. ***** Flicker settled into a rhythm. Slow down, take action, verify, speed up, move on. And consider her life, while she moved. Human--for some value of human that was possible for her--was part of what she wanted to be. Speed and motion were a much bigger part of who and what she already was. Human was an illusion, an emulation. A load bearing one. Maybe even a necessary one, in the long term. But she wasn't good enough yet. If the last few days had proved anything, it was this. She'd read various versions of a joke about how many people stopped growing up and just started faking it after about age fourteen. Even humans sometimes had to fake being adult humans. And that went to the essence of what she thought Journeyman had been trying to say. For her to connect, to feel, to be the person she wanted to be, meant being socially human. But to relate as an equal, as a full partner, as... well there weren't proper words, but to connect fully with him meant being a responsible adult. And Flicker couldn't manage both at the same time. Not yet. She could fake it for a while, but push too hard? Add the stress that came with being who she was in the world she lived in? Her emulation broke down. Humans used age as a proxy for responsibility, and she'd been fixated on the unfairness of that. But all the advice, the common wisdom, assumed you were human. And social support was centered on 'normal' human, for an extensive and arbitrary set of dimensions of normal. But if she gave up on human, if she fully accepted that there was no one like her, that she was alien to this world of odd bipeds, she risked finding the breaking point of the fragile thread of empathy that connected her to that world. Because they could be so foolish, so cruel to one another, so ignorant, so blind. Doc had always been very clear about the danger in that. And the Volunteer had spent a whole day talking her down from the edge, after her big fight with Doc, when she'd wanted to act, to treat the world like a dysfunctional terrarium that cried out for intervention to stop the evil, the oppression, the war, the starvation and brutality and shortsightedness and indifference, all the so very unnecessary pain, outside the narrow range of actions allowed for a superhero. The most frightening part of that day had been seeing the edges of some of the Volunteer's load-bearing illusions. The ideals that let him help the things he could, as an alien in a world of humans. But those illusions couldn't be hers. Because she was more alien? She didn't know. She did know they'd broken others who had tried. She needed to find her own way. While she could still care. Because if she stopped caring, it would be way too easy for her to go over any one of several edges. Maybe Dr. Reinhart could help Flicker find better ways to connect to humans. But she also needed to learn more about who, and what, she already was. The limits and idiosyncrasies of her power and being. Doc hadn't stopped her experiments because they'd reached any firm conclusions. He'd stopped them because they'd become too dangerous to continue on Earth. How fast was she, really? What new realms of sense and ability were beyond the limits she needed to maintain on Earth? The aim of Speedtest was to find out. It was the only thing she looked forward to now that was truly hers. It was past time. ***** More than an hour and numerous additions to the list later, Flicker was finally done. She'd spent a lot of the extra time following up discrepancies in Italy. There was a messy but still relatively quiet political crisis going on there, triggered by some combination of Hermes' rampage in Rome, the identity and contacts of the now dead magician who had summoned him, recriminations over the botched response that had resulted in his death, and a long-simmering conflict over the reasons that Italy didn't currently have any resident superheroes. She'd taken a brief moment to ghost over to the shop in Florence where she'd gotten takeout gelato with Journeyman to celebrate first becoming partners. It was still closed in the first hint of dawn light. Sentimental human indulgence. Was there a point? Maybe there would be again, someday, a time when it would mean more than something she'd thought she'd lost, but never really had. But for now, it was closure. Acceptance. She headed back to Doc's HQ and decided against speeding up. Speedtest would be soon enough, and there was no point in leaving a bright plasma trail that could set off alarms for satellite watchers who might wonder why she was hurrying across the Atlantic at night. ***** "I recommend that you agree to Dr. Reinhart's conditions," said Jumping Spider. She sipped from her coffee cup and eyed the Database display in front of her with mild disapproval. "She's right about the amount of inconvenience adjusting her work around advising you will be." "You think she's safe?" asked Flicker. "Heh. No. I think she's followed consistent goals, and she's functional, competent, as expert as you're going to get, skilled at error recovery, and very smart. Smart enough to understand just how vital and risky giving you psych advice will be. But don't try spying on her. She didn't think much of your failure to consider the consequences of stalking Journeyman." Flicker frowned. "How do you know that?" "I talked to her while you were gone." Jumping Spider paused, waiting to see if Flicker would ask a question. She sped up. Her human emotion emulator indicated her nominal reaction would be anger or irritation. Human emotions weren't serving her very well lately, so she ignored it. It would be a drop in the bucket compared to everything else, anyway. DASI? Anything security relevant that I need to know about Jumping Spider contacting Dr. Reinhart? No. Well, that was unambiguous. She'd asked Jumping Spider for her professional assessment as an intelligence expert, and it was clear she was testing Flicker's self-control, too. She slowed back down. "Go on." "It was an illuminating conversation. She referenced some of my more subtle tradecraft tricks like an academic being careful about citation footnotes. If you focus on her advice rather than trying to emulate her, respect boundaries, and maintain a healthy level of skepticism about untested theory, I think her aid will help you. Once she's ready to meet--it will be at least a week." "Good to know. Thank you. Was the information I verified for you helpful?" "I don't know yet for most of it. But your performance was technically adequate while under direct supervision." Jumping Spider had no qualms about hammering at a point or reminder until she was sure it got through--in this case that Flicker was still bad at the judgement part of spying, however technically skilled she might be. Flicker nodded. "Any other suggestions or comments?" "Do you want my assessment of what happened to Journeyman? It's speculative, and you may find it upsetting." "I don't ask for your opinions because I think I'll like them." A snorted laugh. "Okay. I think Hermes' arrival was part of an op, and was deliberately timed to coincide with whatever Journeyman did just before exfiltrating. I also think we're unlikely to ever get enough evidence to prove that. From an operations viewpoint, I think Journeyman got entangled and dragooned into something far more dangerous than he'd ever voluntarily agree to, but all sides--and I definitely think there were more than two--in the conflict that might have wanted him dead knew he had your backup, and that's why he lived. Tell me. If demons had killed him in some dimension you could get to, what would have been your first impulse?" "Burn it to the ground, then burn the ground," said Flicker. "That's the sort of thing Oracles and Seers pick up on. But since he came back alive, you're much less inclined to do anything disproportionate, right? Because attribution is much tougher, even if an attack is aimed at you or Doc. And there will be probably be completely uninvolved people living in the same place even if you do know who is responsible." "...Yes." "That's also the sort of thing Oracles and Seers pick up on. I also think that whoever Journeyman believes is your mother is part of one of the sides, and that an opposition tactic that he fears is a framing attempt to deflect any retaliation onto her. And he got dragged deep into the wilderness of mirrors, no longer fully trusts his own judgement, and didn't want to drag you there, too. I'll give him credit for that." Flicker sped up to consult the Database. 'Wilderness of mirrors' was an intelligence term for living in a state of perpetual uncertainty about a messy mix of hard to attribute hostile action and coincidence. Just the sort of thing she hated. "Great. So, was he being deceptive about--No. There's no point it getting angry about any of it again until I can talk to Dr. Reinhart." "You're learning. And you stopped Hermes without killing him or anyone else, Journeyman got back alive, you didn't lose it when he disengaged--which was inevitable--and it's much harder to attack someone who's in a different dimension. And you know who is at home in the wilderness of mirrors?" "You?" "Dr. Reinhart. I do all right, but I suspect you'll get along better with her." "Okay. Thank you for your assessment. Do you think I should delay Speedtest because of Journeyman's warning?" "Because of his warning? Are willing to put it off indefinitely?" "No." "Then no, because he didn't tell you anything actionable. But whether it's a good idea at all is not my call. Talk to Doc." "I will," said Flicker. "Jumping Spider?" "Yes?" "This was... less unpleasant than talking to you usually is." She smiled. "Don't worry. I'll make it up to you next time." Flicker shook her head, but felt her mouth want to twitch in response. Human wasn't something you could just turn on and off... She headed out to find Doc.

Next: Part 9

#FallofDocFuture #FallMisc

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thesummerfox · 5 years ago

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2019 Writing Year in Review

Thank you so much for the tag and rec, @intpdreamer! You’re a rockstar.

Word count:

33228 words of published fic, divided up into 4 fics total.

Number of smut scenes:

None. I tried my hand at smut exactly once and it took me so long to write that I haven’t dared to give it another go.. I guess it’s not my thing? (Which is kinda hilarious because I do read a fair bit of it, lol.) There are hints of smut in my fics at best, like it’s alluded to and vaguely described but never in-focus.

New things I tried this year:

I tried my hand at writing a fic that did not change scene/perspective. Normally, I write fics with scene-cuts in order to get the narrative moving to where it’s supposed to end up. For this one, I really wanted to start somewhere and flow toward the end of it in one single go. I was very pleased with the end result! (Though, honestly, I probably won’t attempt it again for a while. Things get tricky if you can’t jump ship from a particular scene, haha.)

Favorite thing I wrote this year:

That’s a toss-up between one fandom and another, soooo.. one for each?

Kastle-wise, I’m going to go with this old heart of mine (is weak for you) because it speaks of (be)longing and home and how sometimes those two things are one and the same. It was a fic that I needed to write for myself more than anything, and revisiting it is like taking a deep breath and settling into stillness.

For Grindeldore, I’m going to go ahead and go with to speak in tongues of glory (disarm, disarm) because that one challenged me to grab canon and run with it. I wanted to write something from Gellert’s perspective and had originally intended for that to be a one-shot. Put me with a Seer for a main character, however, and.. this happens. The interactions between Gellert and Albus truly wrote themselves, while the heartache of the later stage in the fic really ripped me to pieces while I wrote it. I’m just so proud of it, holy moly.

Favorite fic I read this year:

Ahhh oh my gosh I hardly remember everything I read this year (it was a year for reading more than writing, overall, apparently? I devoured a lot of fic).. so I’ll rec one thing I’m reading right now and one thing that just stuck with me from the moment I read it.

Blood Magic is my current read and whoa boy, it’s dark and twisting and full of beautiful characterizations. It’s a very intense read because of its subject matter (Harry, post-war, post-everything, battling addiction & Draco, recovering, traumatized, figuring out what rebuilding means) but so worth it. It’s so full of small, rewarding moments. <3

The one I can’t shake from my reads of 2019 is World Ain’t Ready, which features basically the best high school AU I’ve read for any fandom ever and quite possibly the best Grantaire/Enjolras I’ve ever seen outside of canon. It’s a delightful fic that made me laugh out loud but also crushed my heart in all the right ways. A must-read, darlings!!

Writing goals for 2020:

Set aside time to write every week.

Write something that is not fanfic. (Starting on my fantasy novel? MAYBE)

Start on the novel-length Micro fic I’ve been promising the Punisher fandom for.. too long now.

Maybe take some requests, develop a writing/reading blog, idk yet! Watch this space lmao. (Or drop me a line in my inbox telling me what to do haha? Please.)

Tagging.. @carry-the-sky, @evilbunnyking, @wolveria, and any other writer friends who’re jiving with this post!

#writing adventures #I love these tagging things

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lesbianmonsterlover · 6 years ago

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Fem Werewolf x Fem Reader

Tooth rotting fluff and SFW with some implications at the end :)

Your bookstore and the little apartment above it were what you had to show for nearly three decades of life. You were prepared for the backlash from your parents when you came out as gay, but being totally abandoned by not only your family but the friend group from your small town was not exactly what you had expected. Moving to the closest large town was better for your mental health, but your previous experiences made it difficult for you to really open up to people. So you contented yourself with your books and your home.

The larger town was still quite small by most other people’s standards, but you didn’t have to drive an hour each way to get groceries like you did back home so you were happy. Slowly but surely you got used to the faces around town. Now into your third year you knew to begin prepping for the summer reading rush, thankful to have talked to the school about letting you know some of the curriculum in advance so you can stock enough copies of the given books.

Unloading a full box of As I Lay Dying you were in the back when the little bell over the door to the shop chimed, letting you know someone had come in. “I’ll be with you in a moment!” You call out to the front, and while you don’t hear an answer back verbally you do get a hum of acknowledgement. The woman standing and browsing over your small selection of handbound notebooks, ones that you made while you sat behind the desk, was familiar to you. As always seeing her made a coil of attraction pool in your gut. She was tall and lithe, corded muscle and sinew, her hair shorn short to show off her angular face. That face was - well, some would say marred, not you though - but a set of three large slashes cover the left side of her face diagonally across her eye, from brow to lip. The scars were thick and shiny, showing their age, and you were surprised she didn’t lose sight in that eye as the intensity of the scarring shows it must have been a close call. Her dark skin almost seems to shimmer in the comfortable soft light of your store as she moves, she cuts an imposing figure, but you’ve always liked that in women.

You’re broken out of your musing as she pins you to the spot with her amber eyes, you feel like prey being stalked. Your cheeks are flushed and you give her a shy smile, your hands nervously skating over the wood of your counter. “Hey there Nik, what can I do for you?” The smile she returns to you makes you weak in the knees, but you try not to show it.

“Just this for now, bunny…” Her tone is full of some dark promise, but her eyes are so warm and you’re so lost in their dark honeyed depths that you miss it. You nod, your cheeks getting warmer, and take the notebook she passed you. Absentmindedly you ring up the purchase, stealing glances back up at the gorgeous woman whose eyes never left you. You fumble with her change, goosebumps racing up your arm as you place it in her hand and your fingers brush against hers. She puts the change in her front pocket, slipping the small notebook into the back one. With her free hand she grips your chin between her thumb and forefinger, searching your eyes for a moment before deciding she likes what she sees there and giving you a positively wolfish grin, the sharp point of one canine peeking out. “I’ll see you soon, little bunny.”

When she walks out you turn and slide down your counter, the handles of drawers digging into your back uncomfortably but you’re too flustered to really pay attention. She started calling you bunny a few months after she first set foot in your shop, maybe because you were simultaneously high energy and terribly skittish. She never said much, happy to let you chat amiably at her. Today’s behavior though was positively out of left field. You had no earthly idea what happened just now, but the ache between your thighs was a familiar companion after she left.

The rest of the day was a blur, you weren’t quite sure what you did all day but you managed to close up the shop and wander out to the little patch of land out back. Your store was on the edge of the little town, and butted up against the woods on two sides of its land. You loved to sit outside in the evenings, drinking tea and reading, or simply watching the woods and the night sky. There were wolves in the woods, the townspeople all knew, but they said as long as you stay out of the woods at night they won’t bother you. For all these years they were right, you had heard them before, howling balefully or playfully yipping at one another. You’d never heard of animal attacks, or killed livestock or pets, you’d never even seen one, so really what was there to worry about?

Why don’t we rewind a bit. The town of Fellview had been around for a long time. Long enough that it had existed in a time when humans and nonhumans lived together freely and peacefully. It had been a safe spot since then, the town you see was mostly nonhuman, humans usually had to have a specific reason to be here, someone inside who wanted or needed them here. When the old seer who ran the bookstore before you told the town council of her intent to sell to you they were aghast. An outsider, who knew nothing of the town or its history, was dangerous. The woman merely gave them a smile, and said your fated mate was not yet here, but that you must be waiting here for them. She knew not why, only that the town needed your mate, and if your mate was going to stay here she would need to have a reason.

Nikira had wandered for most of her life. As a werewolf and an alpha, her pack had abandoned her when she challenged her brother for the right of pack leader and lost. She knew that was a possibility going in, but she was prepared to die rather than mate the alpha of another pack just for political gain. That was fifteen years ago. Eight months ago she stopped in Fellview, knowing it was a safe place for her to rest out the cold months. Looking for something to occupy herself she wandered around the town and into your little shop. It was your scent that initially told her something. She’d heard stories as a pup about true mates, humans would call them soul mates, but with werewolves it was as much about biology as it was natural magic.

She didn’t know what to do with this information, so she simply wandered over to a shelf by your counter, staring at the books on it like they held the answers to the universe while she took in your scent. “Hello there, anything I can help you with?” Gods above and below your voice. It sounded sweet to her ears, especially compared to the rough gravel that came out of her own throat after years of disuse. When her eyes met yours she was a goner, the affectionate sparkle of your eyes and gentle smile on your face. She was sure you were an angel, there was no other explanation for you. She enjoyed the way your cheeks flushed under her stare. She knew she could be intimidating, but you didn’t seem scared of her. She smirked, grabbing one of the notebooks blindly and making the three steps over to you. She came back regularly, and made arrangements with the local pack of strays like her to stick around. She built a house inside the woods near your property, more comfortable with the cover of trees and separation from the rest of the townsfolk. When that was done she finally felt ready for you, she could provide for you, do her duty as your alpha and mate. It took some getting used to, being domestic instead of just wandering and sleeping outside for most of the year. She liked it though, the reliability, the steadiness.

That brings us back to today, when she strolled into your shop, gave you that devastating smile and told you she’ll see you soon. You were still mulling over your interaction with Nikira, remembering the feeling of her rough fingertips on your chin, when a rustle at the edge of the trees made you startle in your little chair and sit up straight. The wolf that loped out of the trees was positively huge, you guessed if you were standing its back would be up to your sternum just on all fours. It trotted towards you, pinning you with its amber eyes, so familiar and warm. Your heart is hammering out of your chest as the wolf walks right up to you, huffing out something that sounds like a laugh, before nuzzling your cheek with the butt of its jaw. The stripe it licks up your cheek makes you giggle, and without really thinking you reach up to run your fingers through the dark coarse fur of its neck. It gives you a low rumble, but before you can pull your hand away the wolf begins covering your neck and chest with long swipes of its tongue.

It pulls back, panting, and you watch in confusion as it shifts, seeming to stop halfway between human and lupine. You’re suddenly hammered with awareness, this is a werewolf. You thought you were going crazy when you imagined some of the townsfolk were magical, like really losing the plot. But here you were, being proved right. “Hello there, little bunny.” You’re torn from your thoughts by the voice, it’s a bit darker, growlier, but you recognize the lilt and the nickname, only one person ever called you that… “N-Nik?” The wolf grinned, her eyes darkening as her pupils began to overtake the honey of her iris.

“Oh bunny, I’ve been waiting for so long to find you…” She nuzzles along your jaw and neck, over your chest, her large hands gripping at your waist and hips. You don’t protest, you’ve been hers for so long now. You haven’t thought of anyone else for months, since she first pinned you with those amber eyes, full of adoration and promise. That was where she first claimed you, under the stars on the grass, where her mark was made on your body and soul, as yours had been the first time she laid eyes on you.

#exophilia #werewolf #fem werewolf #fem reader #female werewolf #female reader #monster love #WLW #lesbian love #lesbian fiction

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lunatiicjade · 6 years ago

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The Seer, Part One — Castlevania Fanfic.

After weeks of travel, Dracula's forebodingly massive castle loomed in the distance. Deep within the dense forests of Wallachia, it stood. Miles away from the nearest town. Sorin pressed on, determined to get there before nightfall, regardless of his exhaustion. There was no telling what sort of creatures would lurk about the darkness once the sun has set. His hot breath steamed as it mixed with the chilly winter air, and he pulled his fur lined cloak tightly around himself as he walked.

It would be easier to forget his visions, pretend they were nothing. But he knew better. He had tried, and failed, to warn the people of Targoviste before the first night war. They scorned him, mocked him. Threatened to flay him alive for his blasphemy and forced him to flee. And yet, he has returned. A slave to his own guilt.

A bitter wind gusts, ruffling his dark hair and biting at his nose. The frigid weather was almost unbearable, but relief was finally in sight. Sorin emerged from the trees into a clearing, a gaping hole in the middle of it standing between him and Dracula's castle. There wasn't much of a choice, he would have to go around. The sun hung dangerously low on the horizon. Night was coming, quickly. He began his trek around giant hole, nimbly avoiding overly soft patches of soil.

The ground was so thin and unstable, it felt as though it would give out at any moment. Sorin wasn't sure what lie beneath the crumbling earth, and he wasn't keen on finding out. Finally, just as the sun was disappearing from the sky, Sorin found himself on the front steps of the opulent, yet menacing, castle. The castle was remarkable. Breathtakingly beautiful, even despite its macabre history.

Sorin raised a fist to pound on the heavy door when it suddenly began to open, the hinges creaking as it did so. Hesitantly, he stepped inside. There was a faint humming sound as torches lit by themselves, illuminating the enormous entrance hall. He gasped softly in awe as he glanced around at the exquisitely crafted castle. Glimpses of the castle had appeared in his visions, but they were nothing compared to seeing it in person. The hinges creaked again as the heavy door fell shut behind him.

"Why have you come here?" Questioned a deep, fluid voice.

Sorin gazed up at the grand staircase. Alucard was gliding down it, his feet ghosting above the steps as he made his unearthly descent into the entrance hall.

"I've come to offer my insight, and to ask for your aide," Sorin replied, his eyes glinting with determination.

A deep chuckle rumbled in Alucard's throat and he smiled, bearing his unnaturally pointed teeth. Sorin was well aware of who Alucard was, and what he was, and thus had no reaction to his fangs.

"Insight into what, might I ask?"

The heels of Alucard's boots clicked softly against that stone floor as he lowered himself to the ground.

"The night creatures will return, thousands of them. Armies of the night will run rampant in Wallachia once more. This war is not over, this is merely an intermission."

Alucard's piercing golden eyes narrowed and his lips twisted into frown.

"That's a bold claim."

"I have foreseen it. Dark armies, ruled by a woman with stark white hair, will rise up and destroy Wallachia."

Sorin took a step towards Alucard, looking up at him with an unwavering resolve. Alucard towered over him. It wasn't that Alucard was overly tall, Sorin was just short. He had always been small, even as a child.

"I believe you are the only one who can stop this," He stated firmly as he continues staring up at Alucard, unblinkingly.

"You have foreseen it?" Alucard mocks, peering down at Sorin with a look of distrust. "Dracula is dead, the war is over."

"You do not listen! I told you, it is a woman that is going to orchestrate the coming war. I didn't not see her face, only her form, but I'm sure it is a woman."

Alucard raised an eyebrow, intrigued by how passionately Sorin spoke and the fervent look in his forest green eyes.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Please," Sorin pleads. "How else would I know who are and where to find you if it were not for my visions?"

"And who am I?"

Sorin sighed in exasperation. He had known coming into this that convincing Alucard of his visions wouldn't be easy. But he was so tired from his travels, he wished Alucard would just believe him.

"You are Alucard of Wallachia, son of Dracula," Sorin nodded, pointing his finger at the center of Alucard's broad chest. "You are the sleeping solider, the savior of the people. And your work isn't finished yet."

Alucard's eye grew wide at Sorin's gall. To march in here with such convictions despite knowing who he was and what he was capable of was admirable. It reminded Alucard of his late mother, Lisa. The way she bravely looked into the face of his father, Dracula, king of the night, and demanded he teach her to be a doctor. A faint smirk appeared on his face.

"Is that so? And if I am Alucard of Wallachia, then who might you be?"

"My name is Sorin, Sorin Lupei."

"Well, Sorin. As much as I admire your determination, I am not certain that I believe you and your visions."

"If not now, then soon. I promise you this will come to fruition. "

Sorin closed his eyes and hung his head in disappointment. Without Alucard's help, humanity was doomed. Just because it all started in Wallachia doesn't mean it will remain in here. First Wallachia, then the world. The darkness will spread, consuming everything until the world is nothing more than an extension of hell itself.

"One week," Alucard said calmly. "If within one week you can produce some sort of proof, then I will help you."

Sorin wasn't sure how he would be able to prove his visions to Alucard, but he would find a way. He had to.

"Thank you, Alucard," Sorin said, bowing his head in gratitude. A weak smile graced his lips. The sheer exhaustion from the journey here was catching up to him and he had to fight the urge to yawn.

"If you are weary from your travels, stay here. Spend the week here in the castle, prove to me your visions. If you can't, you will leave after the week is done."

Sorin was relieved by Alucard's invitation. Not only was he on the verge of collapsing from sleep deprivation, but he was terrified of what might be waiting for him in the darkness. The night hordes would come, he knew that. And he felt like it would be soon, though there was no way to be certain. His visions only showed him so much. The rest was up to him to piece together.

Alucard, too, was relieved. Being alone in the castle was starting to eat away at him. There was nothing here for him but painful memories and his gnawing guilt. Having someone else around might distract him from his seemingly endless sadness. And any distraction would be most appreciated, even if it was only temporary.

"Come," Alucard demands as turns and begins walking back up the great staircase.

Sorin followed him without question, holding up the hem of his long cloak to keep himself from tripping.

"You are much kinder than I expected."

Alucard glanced back at Sorin curiously, smiled faintly, then turned back around.

Once they made it to the second floor, Alucard directed Sorin to a large, well furnished bedroom.

"Rest. We will continue this in the morning," Alucard insisted. Sorin did not protest. He immediately went over to the bed and collapsed onto it, not bothering to remove his cloak or satchel.

Alucard could have sworn he was asleep before he ever touched the bed. With much to think about, he retired to his study. Before he was interrupted by Sorin's arrival, he was in the midst of repairing the mystic glass machine that had been damaged during the raid that happened months prior. Much of Alucard's time has been dedicated to repairing the engines and mechanics of the castle. In all honesty, there wasn't much else for him to do.

"Could it be true? True seers do exist in this world, though it is rare to ever encounter one."

Alucard picked up a large shard of glass and stared at his reflection with a somber expression.

"And if it is true..."

He decided it best not to dwell on the possibilities for now. And instead, threw himself back into his work, continuing well into the night.

(Notes — firstly, sorry if it’s set up weird. I did this in my iPhone’s notes and had to copy and paste it <_< Also, this is just something I’m doing for fun. I’m not a professional writer, so don’t expect too much. Just had this idea and figured I would give it a go. Sorin will be the only character I own in this fanfic, as he’s my oc. And lastly, this will start off platonic. I’m not going into this feeling the need to jam Sorin and Alucard together just because. We’ll just see what happens if I decided on continuing this story. Thanks to anyone that reads!)

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msfcatlover · 7 years ago

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TakeRitsu Week Day 7: Fantasy

@takeritsuweek2017

There was more I wanted to get to, but this seemed like such a good place to stop... I don’t want to push my luck. I guess I’ll add this to my list of AUs I need to expand on later.

I know I read the idea of Takenaka being a seer in a fantasy AU and wearing a blindfold to block out his visions somewhere, and I want to give credit, but I can’t find the original post anymore? Does anyone know what it was for? EDIT: Thank you, @feroluce for confirming that the idea did, in fact come from @beanpots’ Black and Gold AU. I... still can’t find the exact post where it was mentioned, but credit where it’s due. ANOTHER EDIT: Thank you again, @feroluce! The post is here. Takenaka is only mentioned at the very end.

(Ritsu hides his identity because he’s one of the crown princes of the country and, um, that’s pretty damn dangerous boy. It... gets cleared up in the parts I wanted to get to. *sigh*)

Aged-up characters, although it’s only mentioned once; I’m picturing them in their mid-to-late teens for this one.

Hopelessly, Ritsu looked up at the sky, but the trees blocked both moon and stars, and he wasn’t about to risk drawing down the wrath of some forest sprite by trying to climb one. It wasn’t a good thing to be wandering the forest at night, especially not alone; you never knew what might take an interest.

A bramble caught on his cloak, and he pulled roughly away, hearing the fabric rip as he did so. A small curse slipped past Ritsu’s lips, and he swore he heard something titter behind him. He grit his teeth and determinedly did not look back, continuing to pick his way along the path of least resistance, hoping and praying that he wasn’t being lead to somewhere—

The forest opened up into a clearing, a small cottage sitting at its center. Ritsu froze in surprise.

It could be a trap; there were plenty of fae and creatures like them who delighted in trickery like this. The weak firelight flickering behind the shutters was just their kind of tempting, a promise of safety sure to be rescinded as soon as he got comfortable.

On the other hand… a fat drop of rain landed on Ritsu’s cheek, and a ruble of thunder passed in the distance. The timing was suspiciously convenient, but it very clearly told him he couldn’t stay out here. Taking a deep breath to brace himself, Ritsu strode across the clearing to knock on the door.

“Hello? Is anyone home?” Another raindrop, this one on the back of his neck. Ritsu knocked harder. “If you are human, I need shelter for the night! If not, I request this hounding cease immediately!” The tittering came again, this time from a little further back. Through the shutters, Ritsu could just make out the shadow of movement.

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” A man’s voice called, sleep-rough and bleary-sounding. Ritsu heard several bolts slide on the inside of the door— “Sweet mercy, you’re loud,” —and then it was yanked open under his hand.

Ritsu knew that he was tall for sixteen; this man was taller, even slouched against the doorway as he was. His nightshirt seemed a little too big, hanging well past his knees and swallowing his frame like a wire doll. His long, brown hair was a mess, his mouth set in an unwelcoming grimace. One hand was tucked out of sight, likely reaching for some sort of weapon in case Ritsu proved to be hostile; the other was clasped tightly over his eyes. Despite that, Ritsu had the distinct impression he was being glared at.

“Wadda you want?”

Ritsu bowed. “I apologize for interrupting your sleep just now. I’m afraid I’m a little lost, and it’s beginning to rain.” Three raindrops in quick succession drummed down on his back. Another hit his hair. “If you’re not responsible for this, and are, in fact, human, I would request a place to stay for the night.”

“Yeah?” He sounded a little more awake now. “How do I know you aren’t some trickster, trying to get a free invitation in to my home? It would hardly be the first time one of your ilk showed up like this.”

Ritsu considered. “My belt buckle is iron, and I know I have a ring that is silver; you could examine them if you like. If you have milk in the house, I’d be happy to handle it and show that it doesn’t curdle.”

“What about salt?”

Ritsu scoffed. “I don’t make a habit of carrying any on me, and I doubt you have the purified kind anywhere around this house. But if you do, I could handle that too; it won’t burn.”

The man paused for a moment, before lower the hand from his face. His eyes remained scrunched shut. “Let’s see this ring.”

Ritsu considered his hands. Each of his rings denoted a different aspect of himself, of his station in life. Each one would reveal something different if he handed them over, and each would be a different scar if it wasn’t given back. Finally, he decided on the thin band around his littlest finger, twisted silver with a small black pearl set in it; the second son of a noble household. Unless this man could identify the type of silver or pearl from a quick analysis, it wouldn’t tell him anything about which household it was.

Ritsu slid the ring off and handed it over. The man rolled it around in his hand, feeling out the shape of the ring and the pearl, before raising it to his lips and settling it between his teeth. He bit, doubtless feeling for the degree of give in the metal, and likely tasting it for good measure. Ritsu’s heart rose in his throat, and he hoped the ring wouldn’t be damaged.

The man opened his mouth, dropping the ring back into his hand and offered it back to Ritsu, who took it with relief. “Alright, you’ve got silver. I’m not going to invite you in, but if you can cross the threshold on your own, you’re free to spend the night.” He turned and walked away, and Ritsu hopped quickly across the threshold, closing the door behind him as the rain began to pick up.

It was a simple, one-room cottage. Herbs and dried meats hung from the rafters, pots, pans, and kettles decorated the mantle over the fire, and the bed was shoved off the corner farthest from the source of heat. On one side of the door, a beautifully crafted sword sheath leaned against the wall, likely the weapon the man had been reaching for earlier. On the other, a wide-brimmed hat and shapeless coat hung on hooks set in the wall.

Ritsu pulled off his own cloak and set it under them. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t. Only a fool would leave you out for the fae to get at.” The man fished through a pile of blankets by the fire. “I don’t need a changeling nobleman causing trouble around here.” He returned to Ritsu, dumping the bundle of selected blankets into his arms. “Make yourself comfortable, my lord. Try not to lay on any peas when you put them on the floor. I’m going back to sleep.”

He returned to the bed, still not having actually looked at Ritsu once, or apparently even considered offering the softer surface to his guest. Not knowing what to make of that, and too tired to make much of a fuss, Ritsu set about spreading the blankets on the floor.

When Ritsu woke, he was at first very confused. His back hurt, someone was humming, and he could smell food… burning? Had he been sleepwalking? Or was Shou pranking him agai—

“My lord, breakfast is ready. Or are you just going to lay there all day?”

Everything from the day before came crashing back, and suddenly, Ritsu was very much awake. He sat up and scanned the room, and yes, it was definitely still the cabin from the night before. The owner sat by the fire, dressed in simple pants and a green tunic, hair pulled back with a piece twine. In the morning light, he seemed much farther from manhood; he couldn’t be that much older than Shigeo, really. Still, there was something bordering on cruelty in his smile.

“I didn’t realize my floor was so comfortable.”

“It’s not,” Ritsu told him, feeling his bruises pull as he stretched out his arms. “but it’s better than outside. Thank you.”

“I told you, don’t bother.” He turned back to the fire, and stirred the pot sitting there. “I hope you like pork stew, because that’s what you’re getting.”

It was probably leftovers from whatever he’d had the previous night; still, Ritsu’s stomach rumbled. He folded his arms across it, embarrassed, as the man let off a surprised laugh.

“It’ll do,” Ritsu muttered.

“I guess it will.” The maliciousness seemed to have temporarily fled his expression, though he quickly suppressed his smile and turned back to his pot. “Shall I ladle you a bowl, my lord, or do you wish to do that yourself?”

“I can handle a ladle,” Ritsu replied, trying not to feel offended.

The man shrugged and pulled a bowl and spoon out of one of the pans on the mantle. “Suit yourself.” Ritsu watched as he filled it and retreated back to the bed to eat his breakfast alone, and bit the inside of his cheek.

It would be terribly rude, after all, to ask why the woodsman wore a blindfold tied around his eyes.

Instead, he asked for his name.

“What does it matter?” the man asked, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “It’s not like you’re sticking around, are you?

Ritsu shrugged. “Maybe I just want to be able to tell the other nobles how rude you were. In which case, keep it up; you’re just adding to a great story.”

He snorted, then broke down in a sudden coughing fit, as apparently the last bite of soup managed to go down the wrong way. Ritsu scrambled to his feet and tried to go to his side, only to find himself waved off.

“I’m fine, I’m fine! Don’t—” More coughing. “Don’t worry about it.” The man wiped his hand down his face. “I’ve lived through worse.”

There was a pause, and then the man straightened, setting his bowl to the side. He offered one hand in the same stiff, mechanical manner Shigeo did when someone reminded him it was necessary for some sort of ceremony. “Takenaka Momozou. And your name, my lord?”

Something caught in Ritsu’s chest as he realized the corner he’d just walked himself into. Not allowing himself to show any hesitation, he quickly clasped the hand in his own and plastered on his best diplomatic smile.

“Asagiri Taro,” he lied.

“I’m sure it’s an honor,” Takenaka said with the air of a man with neither knowledge nor interest in the name-value of the nobility. Which… was probably good, seeing how there was no such person right now. Still, the smile hurt Ritsu’s face and the name stuck uncomfortably to his tongue.

“Likewise.”

“You’d better get that soup,” Takenaka advised, picking his own bowl back up and emptying the remains in a single gulp. He got to his feet. “or I’m going eat it all, and you’ll never get to experience peasant cooking.”

Ritsu’s stomach growled in response, and the woodsman grinned.

About mid-morning, Takenaka lifted the longsword left by the door and hitched it to his belt. “Well, my lord, I need to go get some shopping done. If you wanted to be heading back to town, now’s as good a time as any.”

Ritsu wrapped himself in his torn, stained cloak, and hurried after him.

Takenaka walked the path with confidence, not seeming bothered by his lack of sight as he explained how to find it, should Ritsu ever get lost again (“Shouldn’t be out in these woods if you can’t tell the difference between a real path and a faerie trail,” he said,) but eventually they fell into a companionable silence. Ritsu kept his eyes mostly on the path, aside from the occasional glance at the man walking by his side. The light falling through the leaves edged Takenaka’s hair in gold and highlighted the soft curve of his smile.

Ritsu swallowed and refocused on the path. Tiny faerie lights sparked at the corners of his eyes.

When they reached town, Takenaka made good on his claim of shopping, heading first for a bakery with apparently little thought for the noble at his heels. He chatted with the woman behind the counter, purchased two loaves of bread and some fruit tarts before stepping out again, and heading for a vegetable stall. Ritsu trailed along behind him, fully aware of the odd looks he was drawing.

He wondered how many people actually recognized him, versus how many simply noticed the style of his clothing.

Almost two hours after arriving, Ritsu noticed a handful of guards at the edge of the crowd. When he pointed them out, Takenaka shrugged.

“Probably looking for you. I doubt you really blend in.” The woodsman paused. “If you want to get back to your fancy mansion, you should probably just go introduce yourself.”

Ritsu shifted. “That… makes sense. My family would be worried about me.”

“So what’s the matter?”

“I…” I still haven’t thanked you properly; you won’t let me. How do I even say something like that?

Takenaka waited for a long moment before reaching into his basket of groceries and pulling out one of the loaves of bread. With a single, strong twist, he ripped it in half, scattering crumbs across the cobblestones. He held out one of the halves towards Ritsu. “Here. In case you decide you want some more peasant cooking on your way back, my lord. It’s probably more filling than whatever they feed you up in the castle, or wherever.”

Ritsu accepted it with a quiet “Thank you.”

Takenaka grinned and fished a peach out of the basket and took a bite out of it. “Eh, don’t mention it. I’m sure you’ll forget all about this as soon as you get done complaining to your noble-friends about how much it sucked.”

Somehow, Ritsu doubted that; he didn’t want to forget any of this.

#mp100 #100% fanfiction #takeritsuweek2017 #takeritsu #my writing #mine

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azrielsiphons · 7 years ago

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Prequel; Azriel-Centric Stories Set Before ACTOAR (ch. 5)

This is a collection of interconnected short stories about Azriel’s life before any of the events of ACOTAR through ACOWAR.

CHAPTER 5: DASK

Make sure to read Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 4.5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Read the follow up fic, Shadows and Darkness: One and the Same

Time Frame: 50 years after Rhys is made High Lord

Summary: Azriel comes back to Velaris after a scouting mission in the Autumn Court. While home, he breaks a tradition that he, Rhys, and Cassian had set almost 50 years ago.

“This is bullshit,” Mor snapped, her boots clacking against the tile as she hurried to match Azriel’s heavy stride. “I have the right to know what you saw.”

“That’s not for me to decide.” Azriel’s voice was low, laced with something… heavy. “Ask Rhys about it.”

“Rhys thinks he’s protecting me by keeping everything hidden,” Mor scoffed.

“Is that so bad?”

“I decide what’s good for me, Az. Just me.”

With a sigh, Azriel came to a stop, turning to face Mor head on. Her brows were raised, arms crossed and hip jutted out as she waited on him to speak.

“I know you do,” he said softly. He could tell Mor was inspecting the bags under his eyes — far worse than usual. “Tell Rhys as much, you know he just wants you to feel safe. If you pester him enough he’ll tell you everything I’m going to tell him.”

“Why can’t you just tell me now?”

“You know that’s not how it works.”

“I outrank you in case you’ve forgotten.”

Azriel laughed, the sound carrying not even a hint of humor. Mor sighed, rolling her eyes. It was a cheap shot and they both knew it. They never pulled rank in their Circle.

“Fine,” she muttered. “But just tell me one thing. Are they all still alive?”

Azriel took a deep breath. He knew who she was referring to. He’d spent the last two weeks on the outskirts of the Autumn Court, monitoring Beron and his sons. Two weeks of barely held restraint as he watched and listened to the males who had almost destroyed Mor. Had humiliated her, left her in that forest for him to find, barely hanging on to that thread of life.

“They’re alive,” he said softly. Mor’s eyes flashed. He had a feeling she was neither content nor disgruntled. She likely felt something horribly in between. “For now.”

Mor only nodded, hand reaching out to rest on Azriel’s arm for the briefest of seconds before turning on her heel and striding off to who knows where. He watched her leave, his mind flashing back to a day when a different female had stormed away from him in—

Now isn’t the time, the shadows whispered in his ear.

With a deep breath, Azriel shook his head and continued his trek to meet Rhys and Cassian. Along the way he passed Amren laid out on a chaise lounge with a glass of what certainly didn’t smell like wine. She raised it in a toast to him with a vile smirk. He kept walking.

“…about him. He’s the only one of us who never mentions her.”

Azriel froze, his enhanced hearing picking up Cassian’s voice several meters away from Rhys’s office. He could hear his brothers from this distance, but they couldn’t quite detect him yet.

“He copes differently, you know he does.”

“That doesn’t make it healthy, Rhys.”

“Well what do you propose to do about it? Sit him down around a fire while we all share our favorite memories of—”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“I’m not. You remember how he was when we first… Look, he’s better. We all are. I won’t push him to talk or open up because that’s only going to make him shut down.”

“I still think there was something more. Something he didn’t tell us.”

“Of course there was something he didn’t tell us. He’s Azriel.”

“Well she didn’t tell us either.”

There was a long pause. Azriel clenched his fists at his side to keep his hands from shaking.

“I won’t pretend to have always understood why she did the things she did,” Rhys said softly. Azriel barely picked it up. “But L—”

Azriel strode forward, making his steps heavier than necessary. The conversation silenced immediately.

“There’s the second best bastard I know,” Cassian said with a grin as Azriel rounded the corner. “Myself being the first of course.”

“Always humble, brother,” Rhys muttered, though his voice carried fondness. “You alright?” He directed to Az.

Azriel nodded, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. “Mor cornered me on the way in,” he said bluntly. Rhys cursed. “I told her to come to you, so prepare yourself for that conversation.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Cassian said. “If that’s alright with you.” He looked at Rhys.

Rhys nodded. “No, that’d be better. She might not throttle you if you’re the one delivering the information.”

Cassian barked a laugh. “We’ll see about that.” He turned back to Azriel, perching on top of Rhys’s desk. “Well? What’d you learn?”

Over the next several minutes Azriel recounted what he had seen at the Autumn Court — which wasn’t much. The rumors that Beron was growing his army exponentially didn’t seem to hold any weight. And Azriel’s spies inside the Court reported that nothing seemed to be especially amiss.

“Sounds like someone is trying to stir up trouble,” Rhys muttered. “And for once, it’s not Beron himself.”

“Tamlin has several young new scouts,” Azriel weighed in. “They might have seen him training his guard and jumped to conclusions.”

Rhys nodded, loosing a breath as he rolled his neck. “Well, I hate that I sent you on a fool’s errand. But at least Beron isn’t getting war hungry again.”

“Remind me again why any of them are still alive?” Cassian asked darkly.

Rhys offered a weak smile. “Politics, brother.”

“Well your politics can suck my cock.”

Rhys laughed, and Azriel offered a small smile. In other circumstances, he would have laughed at Cassian’s immaturity. But not then. Not on that day.

Rhys must have sensed the feelings stirring in Azriel’s chest and he looked over at his friend and spymaster.

“Still planning on drinking with us tonight?” He asked.

Azriel shook his head. “No, not tonight. I… need to spend it alone.”

“Az, come on,” Cassian said.

“Let him be—”

“No.” Cassian held out a hand to Rhys. “This is tradition. It’s what she would have—”

“Don’t.” Azriel’s voice was as low as death, his narrowed eyes saying as much. Cassian only scoffed, shaking his head.

“It’s hard on us, too,” he said quietly. Azriel went still, though his shadows swirled. “And you know I’m right. It’s what she would have wanted.”

Azriel did know. He just didn’t want to admit it because it meant thinking about her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” was all he said. He ignored Cassian’s calls out to him as he snapped out his wings and flew from the House of Wind to the waiting city below.

~~~~

Azriel stood with his hands in his pockets, watching the sun over the docks. He hadn’t been to the spot in years. With reason.

The sky changed colors as the sun continued its descent beneath the waves. The salty air reminded him of the Summer Court. He briefly wondered if Dorea was doing well - the last he had heard of her was that she had given birth to a healthy young boy. That was almost ten years ago.

With a deep breath and a shake of his head, Azriel returned his attention to the sky. Continuing his thoughts of the Summer Court would only result in memories of a blue dress that matched his siphons and a seer whose words still occasionally haunted his dreams.

The horizon became a canvas of orange and pink, slowly giving way to a stunning shade of violet.

It was that that had Azriel turning on his heel and striding into the bar he had come all the way out to the docks for. He wanted to try somewhere new, and anywhere but Rita’s where Mor would be dancing the night away, coping in her own way on this terrible day.

Stepping inside, several eyes turned to look at the Shadowsinger, but none with contempt or disgust. No one’s eyes lingered on his scars or his shadows. They mostly looked at him with intrigue, knowing that he was in their new, kinder High Lord’s Inner Circle as spymaster.

Azriel strode for the bar, taking a seat on the stool with a graceful maneuver of his wings.

“We might have to get bigger chairs if you start coming here regularly.”

Azriel looked up at the male bartender speaking to him. He had dark brown skin, short curly hair and eyes of the brightest blue. He smiled widely as he tossed a cleaning rag over his shoulder, bracing his palms against the bar.

“I bet those wings get in the way of all sorts of things,” he mused curiously.

Azriel shrugged. “The benefits outweigh the irritations. Whiskey, please.”

The male chuckled, pulling out a glass and a bottle of whiskey. “I mean it though,” he said as he poured. “We can get bigger chairs. We want to accommodate everyone we can here.”

“Do you own this place?”

The male shook his head. “No, it’s my father’s.”

Azriel only nodded, taking the glass and throwing it back in one. The male whistled.

“Rough night I take it?”

“Not yet.” Azriel tapped the glass on the table and nodded for the male to pour again. He obliged.

“My name is Dask, by the way.”

“Azriel,” the shadowsinger murmured, taking the glass with a sip rather than a gulp.

“Oh I know,” Dask said with a grin. “You’re in the High Lord’s Circle. I’ve seen you around, just never in here.”

Azriel chuckled humorlessly. “It’s not personal. I tend to avoid the docks.”

“Why is that?”

Azriel tensed. “Bad memories.”

“Ah.” Dask nodded, pursing his lips together. A moment passed and he reached out, taking Azriel’s unfinished glass and filling it to the brim. He slid it back with a smile. At Azriel’s questioning look, he only said, “On the house. For the bad memories.”

Azriel nodded his thanks even though he knew from experience that no drink could successfully drown out what was forever rooted in his heart. Not that it didn’t help, which it did. So he kept drinking.

Over the rim of the glass, Dask met Azriel’s eyes, holding the shadowsinger’s gaze. The corners of his lips turned up in something much more than mere curiosity.

“So the shadows,” Bask said. “What do they do?”

Azriel chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “You know most people don’t ask.”

Dask shrugged. “Call me curious. And call you tipsy. What are they for?”

Azriel couldn’t argue with that logic. And the male was harmless enough. “I spent a long time in darkness,” he said quietly, without emotion. “Decided to make it my own.” He took a sip.

“So I take it you’re not so scared of the dark anymore?”

There was a pause. “No. No, it doesn’t frighten me anymore.”

Dask nodded, pulling out another glass and filling it halfway. He held it out as a toast. “To darkness,” he said with a smile. “And those shadows of yours.”

Azriel’s eyes flashed imperceptibly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed heavily. He raised his own glass, clinking it against Dask’s.

“One and the same,” he whispered. Dask looked at him curiously, but didn’t question the words. They drank, draining their glasses.

Dask caught Azriel’s eye once again, his brow raising in question. Azriel sighed, looking Dask up and down unabashedly.

Might as well, he thought to himself as he tapped his glass once again.

Everyone has their own coping mechanisms after all.

~~~~~

Hours later, Dask’s soft breathing was the only sound inside Azriel’s small townhouse. The male was lying on his bare stomach next to Azriel, his face smushed against the pillow as he breathed deeply in his sleep. Azriel lay next to him, the sheets tangled around his naked waist. He had an arm behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

Silently, he slid out of the bed and pulled on a pair of loose cotton pants. Without even a glance back at Dask, he grabbed the bottle Dask had slipped them from the bar and winnowed to the roof.

The moon was high in the sky as it was well after midnight. With one hand in his pocket and one on the neck of the bottle, he took a long pull, lifting his gaze up to the stars. They just didn’t seem so bright anymore.

That icy rage ever present in Azriel’s chest began to boil up as his eyes trained on those bright spots in the sky — those stars that used to bring him such comfort. Now looking up at them all he felt was… empty.

He was filled to the brim with emptiness. The ultimate paradox of pain.

With a broken cry from deep within his soul, Azriel hurled the bottle as far as he could. It sailed through the sky, blocks over, shattering atop a nearby building. He couldn’t find it within him to care who he disturbed.

With heavy, shaking breaths, his chest heaved. Sweat dripped down his temples, the muscles in his back and arms contracting as he flexed his fists.

Downstairs, he hears Dask grab his clothes and slip out of the bedroom. Good.

With one last labored exhale and a single tear falling down his cheek, Azriel shoved his hands into his pockets and looked up to the stars once more. The stars that didn’t shine so bright in a world without the female who had been a star in her own right.

His whispered words were carried away by the sea breeze she had loved so much.

“Happy birthday, Lena.”

#acomaf fanfiction #acowar fanfiction #acowar #azriel #azriel fanfiction #my writing #prequel project by moe #JUST SO YALL KNOW THIS HURT ME REAL BAD #but i gotta set up for BIG PLANS #If yall like Lena and LenaxAzriel you're gonna love what I got planned #reminder that there is a huge overarching narrative #this prequel is literally just to set up for a legit fic i've already partially written #It'll be set during and post ACOWAR #so i mean #that's that #REBLOG IF YOU LIKE PLEASE #I know this one was shorter but hey it's an update #kbye

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thegoddesseos · 8 years ago

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Deduction.

Ignis is undergoing psychological training to further prepare him for the role of chief analyst and right hand to future King Noctis. This is very different from anything I've shared with you all! I honestly don't know where it came from, I was reading another fic (who I'll tag in a moment) stopped mid sentence- and feverishly began writing this. I hope you enjoy....? *gulps*

TLDR; DAD HAS A HARD TIME OKAY ;A;

TW: Mental torture (?) Thriller.

Today he was in his parents’ house. The house where he’d grown up in Insomnia. His mother and father were both aging beautifully, and they welcomed him with open arms, beaming with pride at their son.

“I’m making your favorite, my dear!”, his mom said in her usual chipper tone. “Mother,” Ignis began to protest, yet knowing all the wiser. “All these years of making me things, why not let me make you something for a change, hm?” “Where do you think you got the love of cooking from young man” she playfully retorted.

“Yeah, let the woman alone!” his father chimed in, cracking a smile.

His parents. The only people he’d humor enough to let take care of him even for an instant. He did it mostly out of respect. He wouldn’t dare put up a real fight with his mother (she’d raised him better than that).

“Father”, he nodded, finally being able to greet him while his mother was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she prepped the kitchen.

“Come sit with me, my boy”. He gestured to the seat next to him on the couch, his words, full of warmth. Ignis joined him, his chest tightening, swelling with love for the man he hoped to be half as great as one day. His father took his hand, simply beaming at his boy, and the man he’d become. It was softer than Ignis had remembered, his grasp lightened with age.

“Ignis, i’m so very prou-

*BAM*

Ignis’ heart shot out of his chest, the following scream he heard could only be that of his mother. He whipped his head around to reveal that she was trapped under part of the roof that’d come crashing down in the explosion. Shots rang out from overhead, and flying Niflheim tanks littered the sky.

“We’re under attack!!” Ignis ran towards his mother who lay on the ground, oven mitt still on her hand. Another shot rung out crashing through the living room when he heard his father shout in agony. He was hit, and was bleeding from the gut.

“Ignis, sweetheart!” he heard his mom pleaded with him to help her.

“I-ignis…” his father managed to mumble, blood spurting from his lips. After a moment’s hesitation, the cinematics slowed around him, waiting for him, allowing him time to make his choice.

“I- I…” he looked down at his mother cradled in his arms.

“STASIS”, he yelled. A wreck, and shaking. His mother disintegrated in his arms, and the room reset to it’s default of sickly white, with slightly flickering fluorescent lights that only added to the abysmal mood of the room.

“Mission objective: f a i l e d”, rang through the room. A different tri-tone voice came over the loud speaker, preceded only by the sound of a button being pressed, followed by a faint crackling silence.

“You’ve now exhausted your hault stasis for the month, Mr. Scientia.”

“I know”, he said. Slumped on the ground where the image of his mother lay dying before him was, not only a minute prior. “I know”, he repeated. This time, defeat hung on his words. Anger building where fear had been, he began to kick himself internally for being too weak, too indecisive, and too slow to complete the mission. That was the third time he’d been unable to complete his Rapid Deduction test. He knew he needed work in this area. Hostage Negotiations VR had been relatively smooth, and gone without a hitch. Same goes for Strategic Planning VR, but his Rapid Deduction reasoning brought him to his knees every time.

How was he to know which life he should save? His mother or his father. Who thinks about that kind of thing? Except, he knew the answer. It was him. He was expected to think of these things, to test him, and his mind. To make life changing decisions at a moment’s notice.

“That’s...enough, for one day” he finally said, bringing himself up to his feet. He heard the sssshhhhss sound of the air tight lock release on the sliding doors, and he left the virtual reality room without a second glance back. Tomorrow would be another day. Who knows what the scenario would be, but tomorrow, he’d be ready.

Sometimes he wished his strength lie in the physical realm like Gladio. He has it so much easier. Physical labor- he’d take that any day, over his plot. Lift 1,000 lbs total, a day? Sure. Anything to escape an instant of the mental torture he’s put through. Similar to physical strength, he knows mental strength builds over time. “It’ll come”, he whispers to himself, walking to his car getting ready to drive home. “But i’m going to have to increase my stamina, and to do that i’ll need to be alert, awake, and at pique functioning capacity”.

The next morning, he set out for his usual coffee place. “Ah, Mr. Scientia! Room for cream and sugar? Same as always?” chirped the cute barrister, brown ponytail bobbing.

He paused, deep in thought.

“Just black- thank you”

“Ohh, something new today, I see?” she giggled. “Alright-one ebony it is! You betchya- coming right up sir” and she bounced away to prepare his cup to go.

***

The tri-tone voice came over the intercom again (if he ever found out which of the Kingsguard was behind the two way glass..he’d..he’d…. )

He was never able to really finish the thought, seeing as he couldn't really do anything to the Kingsguard, but if he could..it woulda been something bad.

“Shall we begin again, Mr. Scientia” the familiar tri-tone voice rung out through the intercom, filling the VR room. Ignis met the voice with silence.

Click.

“Shall we begin again, Mr. Scientia.”

A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead, and landed on the ground. How long had he been watching his loved ones die at this point. Three? Four? Five hours?

Click.

The press of the button filled the room, followed by the predictable crackling white noise, and the tri tone voice once more.

“Shall we begin again Mr. Scientia.” Ignis exhaled sharply through his nose, his hair clinging to his forehead, matted with sweat. His shirt, soaked through, revealing the muscles of his lean torso, and his heaving chest.

“Yes.”

Noctis had been knocked unconscious. Gladio’s pelvis had been crushed by the red giant and he was now bleeding out from the massive wound. If Ignis could just get him the high elixer in time…but Prompto can’t survive against the giant foe for long on his own. He’s wasted too much time in thought.

“Mission: F A I L E D”

There had to be a way to save them both. There had to be. What was he missing, what clue was he missing. He knows he needs to move faster. No- think faster. Each time he tries to save them both he’s met with the same outcome.

“Mission: F A I L E D”

Hot tears begin to cloud his vision, his eyes, feral, darting from one friend to the other. Wetness leaves his eyes having to watch his friends cry out for his aid and die over, and over. This simulation...it was becoming too much for him. He felt his mind begin to seer, and bubble underneath his skull.

“I CAN’T”, his eyes going wild behind his glasses. “You bastards. I know you can hear me!”, demanding that someone from behind the double glass, covered by the running simulation have mercy on him.

“Someone” he pleads.

Click. The tri-tone voice came over the intercom.

“Again.”

Mustering all the composure he had, and speaking through gritted teeth, eyes fixed on the floor “If...I could only have a glass of wat-”

“Shall we begin again, Mr.Scientia” the tri- tone voice rang out once more. He wished desperately he’d not used all his halt stasis for the month. Gods, did he need them now. A soft “yes” managed to escape his lips. The words heavy with defeat did not carry far, and were almost immediately lost to the vast space of the room.

Click. “Shall we begin agai-”

“YES!!” his fists slammed into his legs in a hot fury. “YES. For Gods sake, yes.” Click. “Composure, Mr Scientia” the trill tone voice rings out, monotonously.

Ignis, takes his glasses off and rubs the bridge of his nose, clenching his jaw together. He unbuttons his shirt, sweat pooling in the nook of his collar bones. “Proceed” he says sternly. A newfound determination, forming within him. He could save Gladio, but would he be happy without his lower body? Would he be able to find new meaning in life, no longer being able to live up to his father’s legacy? His entire family’s legacy? No. Ignis decided, you just can’t be sure. You can’t make decisions by what people might do. To save Gladio would mean leaving Prompto, who was basically a civilian. Not just any civilian. He just so happened to be Noctis’ closest friend. Ignis thought back, his mind racing, deducing, cycling through possibilities and probable outcomes of his actions in his mind’s eye. When Prompto had joined them in training for fun, he’d needed help on ¾ of the missions. That’s a 75% chance that he can’t survive without the assistance of at least one other person. Ignis’ eyes were darting around from Prompto, to Gladio who was in desperate need of that high elixr, back to Prompto, who couldn’t last much longer on his own. How would the King survive without the company if the one person who keeps him grounded? Prompto’s friendship is paramount to Noctis’ mental stability. Amicitia is of nobility though. His family, and his purpose practically bred into his DNA to protect the king, to train him, make him stronger. Gladio is an indispensable resource just with knowledge of combat alone, Ignis thinks. Noctis needs Gladio’s knowledge to be able to protect himself.

Friends come second to the will of what the burden of the throne commands.

“Iggy, man! Prompto’s needs help! Ngh-” Gladio’s eyes rolled back in pain. Ignis turned away from Prompto.

“I-Iggy? Iggy, buddy! Iggy!” Prom screamed, desperately trying to bring his friend back to his aid. Ignis’ choice marked the point of no return. He could feel his heart, ripping in two while he administered the high elixr to Gladio, only to be met with, “What in the Gods name is wrong with you! I could have handled this pain! Prompto! Ignis-” Gladio yells through his tears, “Prompto is dying!”

Red Giant still at large, Prompto laid on the ground, having suffered a final rib crushing blow to the chest. His eyes glassed over, a vacant expression on his face, mouth slightly parted, a tear falling over his star dusted cheeks and Ignis broke.

“Objective: c o m p l e t e” rang through the room as it reset to its standard sickly white walls, and flickering fluorescent lights. He’d watched the look of betrayal color his friend’s eyes as they died by his actions a thousand times. A thousand times he’d have to choose what life to save, and when. Calculating who survives and who doesn't if the time came down to it, and weighing one against the other.

Regis or Luna.

Luna or Noctis.

Prompto or Luna.

Gladio or Iris.

Iris or Prompto.

Time after time he's met with incomprehensible combinations of loved ones. His heart shredding apart with each simulation. He learned not to show emotional weakness, and keep up his prim and proper image in the presence of others. If he couldn’t keep himself in check, how would he ever be able to keep the affairs of a king in order? Before long, he’s mastering almost any scenario, achieving the best possible outcomes, despite seemingly insurmountable odds. His training served him well throughout his journey with Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio on their way to the wedding in Lestallum. Ignis managed to keep the group alive, through otherwise fatal encounters. “Iggy!”, the prince would say, having exhausted all his resources. “I’ve got just the thing!” he’d reply, coming up with the perfect remedy in the heat of battle to defeat whatever foe blocked their path. During the fall of Leviathian, he’d been tasked with evacuating the citizens as quickly as possible. In the stampede of people rushing through the flood gates, a mother and her three children were making their hasty escape, her arms already already tied with two infants, her 5 year old had no choice but to run by her side. However, the influx of people managed to separate her from her oldest child. What’s worse, is that Niff soldiers were descending on the crowd, and the child found himself face to face with a Magitek trooper in the chaos.

Ignis protested against his automatic thoughts, that were saying self preservation over the lives of a civilian. No. This is wrong. He thought. This is wrong. He managed to force one leg in front of the other, bursting into a sprint, his nerves on fire in rebellion against his conditioning. Mission failed rang through his mind at a maddening pace growing louder in his mind the closer he got to the child, when soon his mind's voice was screaming MISSION FAILED. He didn’t care, this wasn’t a VR mission. This was real life.

He pushed through his thoughts as he pulled the child to safety, he felt the slice of white hot iron to eyes. He’d been struck.

“Thank you! Thank the gods for you!” the mother managed through her sobs, clinging to her child. “Thank the gods for you! Thank the gods for you!” she said to Ignis, while littering her son’s face with kisses. His knees gave way, and he was taken under by the searing pain as his body met the blackness of the asphalt.

His final thought before succumbing to the pain- objective complete.

#ffxv scenario #ffxv imagines #ffxv headcanons #ignis scientia #ignis stupeo scientia #ignis imagine #ignis x reader #noctis x reader #noctis lucis caelum #prompto x reader #prompto argentum #prompto imagine #thriller #gladiolus amicitia #gladio x reader #Gladio imagine #psychological horror #psychological thriller

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operationrainfall · 4 years ago

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Title Shantae and the Seven Sirens Developer WayForward Publisher WayForward Release Date May 28th, 2020 Genre Metroidvania, Platformer Platform PC, Apple Arcade, Nintendo Switch, PS4, Xbox One Age Rating E for Everyone 10+ – Fantasy Violence Official Website

I’ve been waiting to play Shantae and the Seven Sirens since WayForward first revealed the game. I’m a big fan of the series, and have been since I first played Risky’s Revenge. It has grown and changed dramatically over the years, sometimes being more of a pure platformer, and other times closer to a Metroidvania. I personally felt the series reached near perfection with Pirate’s Curse, both due to the structure and plot of the game. It really gave more development to several characters, as well as expanding the game universe in fascinating ways. Then we got Half-Genie Hero which, though a definite step up visually, also felt like a step backwards in other ways. So when I heard Seven Sirens would be another Metroidvania-styled outing, I got really excited. If it could successfully mix the gameplay elements of Pirate’s Curse with the visuals of Half-Genie Hero, it had a outstanding chance to cement itself as best in the series. Keep reading to see if I feel it succeeded.

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The story begins when Shantae and company head to a tropical island to participate in a genie exhibition. It takes place in Arena Town, where the mayor is pulling out all the stops to have an outstanding ceremony. Shantae is excited to relax for a change, as well as meet a few of her fellow half-genies. After you introduce yourself to each of them, a fancy and thrilling dance show starts, only for the lights to suddenly go out. When they pop back on, all the genies except Shantae are suddenly missing. Overwhelmed with guilt as the sole survivor, Shantae nevertheless musters the courage to hunt down her new missing friends, and get to the mystery of the island in the process.

Though I want to say more about the story, it’s probably best to experience it yourself, especially to enjoy the curve balls the game throws at you later in the experience. That said, I do wish we got a bit more character development. I realize that’s trickier since there’s several new characters introduced. It would be difficult to balance revealing and sufficiently developing many new characters, but I can’t help but remember how in Pirate’s Curse, many of the included characters got some great development, especially Rottytops and Risky Boots. Nevertheless, I’m not disappointed by the plot here. I just wish there were a bit more to it, especially since I was hoping for a deeper dive into Risky’s character, as well as her possible connection to Shantae.

Thankfully, you don’t necessarily play a Shantae game for the plot so much as the humor and gameplay. I am happy to agree that Seven Sirens is great in both regards. If you love games that poke fun at the industry silliness, Shantae is your girl. Tons of characters make fun of her lack of clothing as well as her bouncy nature, but in a way that isn’t offensive or cruel. There’s also an utterly hilarious sequence of events featuring Shantae, Sky and a couple other characters I won’t reveal. It reminded me a lot of a classic Simpsons Halloween episode involving Comic Book Man, but that’s all I’ll say. Just get ready to laugh frequently as you play through Shantae and the Seven Sirens.

Like I said above, the gameplay in Seven Sirens is also pretty great. It’s definitely more reminiscent of Pirate’s Curse, in that there’s lots of interconnected maps to explore with new abilities, and hidden treats to unearth. It’s also less of a hardcore platformer than I felt Half-Genie Hero was, so you won’t be swearing as you keep falling into deadly pits or run from dangerous creatures. That’s not to say there’s no challenge, just that it comes more from the enemies than the environments. And I’m fine with that. Pretty early in the game I invested heavily in Shampoo and Cream so my genie was a merciless hair-whipping machine, so much so that I worried I was too overpowered for most of the game, though the last few bosses were still a hefty challenge. Thankfully there’s a New Game Plus mode after you beat it once, and I fully intend to play through again but restrict myself from overpowering my genie, just so things are a bit more challenging.

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One thing I loved about Seven Sirens is how WayForward streamlined the transformation process. You no longer have to dance, select a form and then transform. Instead, all your animal transformations are relegated to various buttons, so you can instantaneously turn into the right form. As examples, you can press ZR to turn into a newt that dashes at and climbs walls, or press ZL to turn into a turtle and smash through rocks. There’s some really wonderful forms you can transform into, and in typical Shantae fashion, they’re all adorable. But it wouldn’t be a proper game in this series without dancing, and I’m happy to say they improved this aspect as well. As you recover your missing half-genie brethren, they will eventually reward you with a portion of their magic. These are called Fusion Magic, and they let Shantae do some spectacular dances. Some provide support, others are attacks, but they all serve a purpose. Take the Seer dance. It reveals hidden items and secrets that help you progress. Or the Nourish dance, which not only heals Shantae, but also causes flowers to bloom and give you treats, or even turns murky poison water into clean springs. Best of all, when you finish each dance, it reveals a cool hybrid form of Shantae based off the genie you got it from. I wish I could show some here, but trust me, they’re all fantastic-looking.

What I really appreciated in Seven Sirens is how each transformation really opens up your exploration skills, much like in Pirate’s Curse. Each one lets you explore more and more of the island. My only minor complaint is that it all felt really linear, especially since you can always get a nudge in the right direction by talking to any villager with an exclamation mark over their head. Granted, you are allowed to wander, and there’s some big areas, but there’s just not that much to do outside of the main story. I really wish there were some huge bonus area you could only access after the credits roll, but alas, it all takes place on or near the main resort island. I also have to admit, I did get lost a few times early on, but mostly because I wasn’t thinking clearly and trying to rush. Once you have two or three transformations, there’s not much you can’t do. By the time you get the last one, things are totally opened up, if you have the inclination to hunt down every last scrap. And while most of what you’ll find hidden away are either Heart Squids or Nuggets, there’s one new element in Seven Sirens that makes the game more interesting: the Monster Cards.

I feel like WayForward really took inspiration from the Castlevania Sorrow games with this mechanic. Basically as you defeat foes, they’ll occasionally drop Monster Cards. Once you have enough of them, you can equip up to three cards at a time, providing passive bonuses to Shantae. Some examples are making food more nutritious or increasing the range of subweapons or even making dances cost less magic. There’s a lot of these cards, and I haven’t even found all of them. The most powerful are of the titular Sirens themselves, and it seems these can only be acquired by trading Nuggets to specific villagers. While you certainly don’t need to actively use the Monster Cards to beat the game, they offer a nice little distraction to broaden the experience.

Shantae games typically have really fun bosses, and that’s also true here. Each of the Sirens is well animated and fights you very differently. Take the Water Lily Siren, a beautiful flower that tries to smash you with vines, who needs to be coaxed into a pool of sunlight to reveal her weak spot. Or the Tubeworm Siren, a deadly Gorgon that attacks you with snake-like appendages. They’re all equal parts creepy, cute and dangerous. That said, I wish we got some personality from them other than how they attack you. Give me a line or two of dialogue. Anything. You’ll only really get to know one Siren, and the rest are just there to block your progress. Also, I can tell that WayForward toned down the bosses from when I last demoed Seven Sirens at PAX West. Then I was barely holding my own against the first boss, but now they all seemed to have less life and be more relaxed. Honestly I felt that Risky Boots was more difficult when you face her in various mini boss fights here. I guess I just wanted a bit more of an obstacle from the bosses overall.

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Visually, there’s a lot to enjoy. Shantae games are always pretty, with bright colors and vivid designs. Each of the new characters has a distinct style and the new foes are also pretty creative, such as serpentine mummies. I loved the animated introduction by Studio TRIGGER, as well as several spectacular cinematics, many of which that take place right before major boss fights. I didn’t realize how much I needed these animations til I saw them, and they’re all wonderful, so much so that I almost want an animated TV show for my favorite genie now. That said, while this is a very visually attractive game, there’s one area it’s inexplicably a step backwards: some stage designs. I double-checked my review of Half-Genie Hero to confirm, and it’s true that there’s less visual complexity on display. Some areas look downright barren, much to my surprise. HD graphics are best when they’re trying to flex their muscles, and I just feel like several layouts here needed a shot in the arm. They’re not all bad, but some were very underwhelming. Just giving us more action happening in the background would have helped a ton. I still remember sights like the conveyor belts carrying would-be mermaids or rioting Tinkerbats attacking Scuttle Town in Half-Genie, and wanted more of that here. Musically, Seven Sirens is pretty great, with lots of jaunty, upbeat tunes. They do a good job of matching the theme of an island resort, without too many ominous or threatening tracks. And as I’ve grown accustomed to, the voice work is also really spot on. Each character has a distinct voice and personality, especially during the aforementioned cinematics. Overall, the aesthetics were pretty enjoyable.

Honestly, it’s hard to stay mad at my favorite genie. There’s just a lot to smile about in any of these games, and Shantae and the Seven Sirens is no different. Sure, I would have liked more to do, and a bit more challenge, but it was still a fun ride. It successfully cut out the irritating elements from past games while adopting elements I enjoyed from others. And for $29.99, it’s still a pretty good deal. I spent nearly eight hours to beat the game, and had about 70 percent item completion. Once you’re done, you can still tackle New Game Plus, as well as trying to unlock game clear screens. This might not have been the entry that took the crown from Pirate’s Curse for me, but it came damn close. I just hope that WayForward continues to improve on and iterate their formula for these games, and hopefully the next one will be the very best. If nothing else, the ending of Seven Sirens provides a good starting point for whatever comes next.

[easyreview cat1title=”Overall” cat1detail=”” cat1rating=”4″]

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REVIEW: Shantae and the Seven Sirens Title Shantae and the Seven Sirens

#cute #Genie #Metroidvania #oprainfall #Review #Shantae and the Seven Sirens #WayForward

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idornaseminary · 7 years ago

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Chapter Twenty-Three: Beatrice and Natasha

Beatrice climbed the innumerable steps up from the Great Hall towards the divination classroom on the sixth floor, her mind wandering as she slowly ascended the spiral staircase leading up to the mystical tower. Dinner was good, as always in the first few weeks of the semester when the house elves were eager to sooth the nerves of the anxious first years. Stopping breathlessly at the heavy wooden door sitting in wait at the top of the tower, she closed her eyes for a moment and imagined all her worries melting away like frost in the first days of spring, leaving her mind fresh as a dewy meadow.

She gave the door a little push and stepped inside, looking up in awe at the ceiling which was charmed so Astronomers like herself could study the movement of the cosmos even when the sky was cast over with storm clouds. The sight of brown dwarf stars dancing with hypergiants around the endless vortex of space without the need for a telescope made her heart sing and long to tell her grandmother, Pania, about this place. Beatrice sighed and shook her head, inhaling the crisp clean air that filled the atmosphere of the room, enhancing Seers’ abilities.

She stepped away from the door when she heard some other students’ voices echoing off the stone walls as they walked up towards the classroom, noticing that there was already somebody sitting in the room with her, who stayed silent as Beatrice marveled at the heavenly display above their heads with disdain in her eyes. Bea offered a friendly smile to the imperious young lady who sat still as a statue, reading a book in her lap with a bored expression plastered across her pallid facade, deciding to sit beside her even when she noticed the lady’s Cucurrion pin gleaming in the light of Jupiter’s sixteen moons. She silently placed her books on the desk and tugged the sleeves of her jumper down over the cuffs of her button up shirt, slouching in her seat as she continued studying the projection high above their heads in the vaulted ceiling. The other fourteen or so students quickly filtered into the room, their mindless chatter and tedious gossip bouncing off the charmed walls as they settled into their seats. When Professor Levas came out of her office, all conversations came to a grinding halt, everybody’s eyes transfixed on the wrinkled, withered witch. “Good evening,” she said, voice barely above a whisper as she ambled down the stairs, leaning heavily on her cane before sitting on a stool in the center of the desk circle. “And welcome to Creatures and Divination. I trust you all had a good summer.” Beatrice smiled at the woman and gave a small nod, glancing at the girl beside her out of her periphery, curious what her specialty was. “As the best and brightest of your generation, you few Seers have gathered here tonight to develop your talents for prognostication together,” she said, gesturing around the room with her sickly, trembling hands. “This year, we will be focusing on those methods of Divination which require the aid of animals. Namely Ichthyomancy, Myomancy, Ornithomancy, and Ovomancy, among others.”

Natasha liked being alone in the Divination classroom, which was why she was happy to get to class early and find that there was no one else in the room, including the professor. She sat in her usual seat and opened one of her books, allowing herself to absorb all of the information she could from it. She heard someone else come in but didn’t look up, assuming that, as usual, they would leave her alone. It was much to her dismay when, instead of moving around her or even away from her, the quieter footsteps of the other person approached her, and stopped when they reached the table. She suppressed a groan, not particularly wanting to talk to anyone right now.

She didn’t bother to greet the newcomer or otherwise acknowledge their presence. It wasn’t long after that class started, and she closed her book, focusing on the airy Professor Levas as she started to speak. She could feel eyes on her occasionally, knowing that the girl next to her was looking at her. She didn’t bother to give her a look back.

Of course, it wasn’t long after that Professor Levas requested that they introduce themselves to each other because these types of Divination relied largely on cooperation and multiple understandings. She sighed and faced the other girl, putting on a gentle, charming smile. “Hello,” she murmured softly, extending her hand lightly. “My name is Natasha. And you are?”

“Beatrice Selwyn,” she said, grinning brightly in the darkened room, eagerly taking hold of her outstretched hand, unpleasantly surprised how icy cold her silky smooth touch was. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Standing up slowly like a turtle poking its head out of its shell, Professor Levas walked over to her desk and picked up a piece of parchment resting on the polished wood. “Because each of you is gifted in one method of Sight, I’ve decided that this year, you should be paired up with somebody who shares an opposing ability. As Seers, though you should be masters of your own craft, you should also be proficient in other fields of Divination as well. So, I’ve matched you up each with another student who balances your particular skills,” she explained, hobbling back over to the stool.

“Ms. Selwyn?” Professor Levas called out, craning her neck as she looked around her audience before settling on the petite Polynesian who sat with her hand raised above her head. “You’ll be paired up with a uhhh…” she rambled, casting a glance back down at the trembling paper in her hand, shaking like a leaf in late autumn, “Ms. Kraus this semester.”

She heard her name spoken after their introductions, as Professor Levas slowly explained what would be happening throughout the course of the year. She took a deep breath and glanced at the girl sitting across from her, realizing this would be her partner for the semester. “Well, I guess we’ve already met each other,” she said, an almost condescending smile toying at her dark lips.

“I suppose we must have different specialties, then. Might I ask what yours is?” she asked her. She was often curious about others in this craft since it was often considered imprecise and impractical, although she found it to be one of the most elegant and helpful forms of magic.

“Astrology and Athrimancy,” Beatrice said, smiling kindly at her as she crossed her legs at the ankle, trying to stay still though the raw magic flowing in the room made left her quite excited and unsettled. “My grandmother taught me how to use the stars to see not only where in the world I’m headed, but where, in the greater sense of life, I’m going. What’s your skill?”

“Crystal-gazing,” she informed her. Cartomancy was her true skill, but she knew that many people still found the cards to be something of Muggle legend, the types of things that people who used to pretend to be magical would use to ‘predict’ the future. She also had no intention of telling this complete stranger about her strengths, and by default, her weaknesses. “I am also someone competent in dream interpretation, but my successes there are not quite as high.”

She glanced around the room, hearing small snippets of similar conversations from the other pairs that had just been formed. She knew some of these people from her previous years, but many of them were older than her, only making her feel that much more smug for being in the class.

Beatrice nodded slowly and caught her bottom lip in her teeth, glad she had remembered to use her smudge-proof matte lipstick as she nervously chewed on the soft skin. Something about the impervious witch to her right left her feeling agitated. Deciding to push past the thought, for the time being, she turned her attention back to Professor Levas who had begun explaining their first section in the class on myomancy.

“Each pair will be given a mouse to take care of for a week. Record their behaviors, actions, eatings, excreting, and patterns of sleep,” she explained. “In addition, each group will have to prepare a report on the mice and a research paper about such behaviors and what they suggest about the future. You’re dismissed as soon as you’ve all divided the work,” she said, standing to leave while the other students gathered their materials together.

After hearing their instructions, Natasha focused her gaze on her partner and gave her a soft, charming smile. “You wouldn’t have any problems doing the project yourself, would you?” she asked her. She had no interest in learning about the behavior of mice, not having any interest in other animals whatsoever. Particularly not one of such low intelligence as a mouse.

She heard other students talking as they left, reminded now that there was a Quidditch game coming up. She didn’t have any interest in attending, but she also had a feeling she would anyway. It was sometimes entertaining, particularly when people stopped following the rules.

Beatrice paused as she was about to suggest they divvy the work up fairly with somebody coming to observe the mouse in the morning, and somebody in the evening. Maybe it would be easier to split the project in half. She shook her head and pasted on a quick smile, her stomach tied up in nervous knots that made her want to wince. “I’ll take Algernon here and you can do the research,” she said, holding her hand out. “Sound like a deal?”

She raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Alright,” she agreed, lightly taking her hand and just giving it a light squeeze. “It was lovely to meet you, Beatrice,” she murmured, her voice soft and still with the hint of condescension. She didn’t take long to leave after that, knowing that, as much as she would love to stay in the room, she had other things to do.

Beatrice had started to pack up her bags before she got a chance to say farewell to Natasha as well, and when she looked up, pushing back the curtain of hair that obscured her sight, she was gone. Going over to the professor’s desk where the last cage was waiting for her, she picked up the container with a little brown mouse inside, smiling down at the innocent creature when she was struck with an awful feeling. What if she was the mouse to Natasha? She looked up, hyper-aware of her solitary place in the room after everybody else had left, but couldn’t shake the sense that somebody, or something rather, was looking over her shoulder.

#Script #Beatrice #Natasha

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damian-palendryl · 7 years ago

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Scraps of Past V: The Ice Lands’ Tragedy Forgotten in Snow part III

The village itself mostly consisted of Elvish/Human/mixed population and one Dwarf family. It was truly a Shaman village as almost everybody there owned a Spirit Companion, though not everyone was familiar with more than few basic Shaman spells. Still more than me at the time, though.

The best of Shamans then brought money, trade and more jobs to the village while taking on the mercenary work, all over the Northern part of the continent; the others stayed, becoming fishers, hunters, herbalists, tanners, etc.

While talking to Mami, I was finally able to describe the nature of my problem and the main reasons for risking my life and setting off on this peculiar journey.

Mami was very kind and almost immediately sent her husband Barck for the village Chieftain Grisha, the oldest and greatest Shaman in the village and its wide surroundings.

Grisha was a wise-looking Elvish woman of the uncertain age between 50 and 500 when you really can't tell how long is this specimen actually walking among us. To be more specific, her stature was about the same as mine, so rather small but her back was slightly hunched. Nevertheless, she always walked briskly and without any age-related trouble. Her hair was long and grey, gaze dark but clear and her forehead full of deep wrinkles, boosting up the "Wise Chieftain" impression to the max.

She sat down with me and Mami by the fire and introduced herself to me, complimenting me on my manners when I got up as she entered the long house and offered to help her sit down. Chieftain Grisha didn't seem to be so baffled by my looks like all the others who had come to see me in the long house and along with Mami they started to explain everything, including the distrust I'd received just minutes ago.

So if we are speaking about the most important of the village people, the very first would be Chieftain Grisha. Everybody listened to her advice and even the Elders would never go against her. The position of Chieftain had always gone to the most powerful Shaman of the Clan and it had been decided by the Elders after the death of the previous Chieftain. Grisha obtained the title when she was 51 years old after leading the Clan safely through Herrgrough Pass while running away from the warriors of other tribes.

Next, of course, would be the Elders. Any citizen older than 50 years old automatically became one of the Elders. The Elders made every major decision concerning the future of the Clan and it was also them who led all the trials concerning local disputes.

But both the Chieftain and Elders sometimes had to step down when the Seer voiced her opinion. The Seer right now was Mami. The same as the position of the Chieftain, the Seer was a role for life with the exception that you had to be born as one. The abilities of a seer were passed down for generations in Haarlar family. Every generation had one person able to foresee the future and the whole Clan hang onto the Seer's every word.

As you've probably guessed already, this generation's Seer was Mami. A young 30+ years old woman, always kind and gentle.

...

Her huge husband Barck didn't like me one bit from the start but was forced by his wife to treat me nicely. As was everybody in the village.

I was told by the Chieftain that the whole Clan is looking at me with distrust because of Mami's first vision. The very first vision of every Seer is of their own death. During her last moments she saw fire reaching the sky and a white person standing in front of her. Given how well respected Mami was throughout the whole village and the worries concerning the fire and possible disaster for the whole Clan, I couldn't exactly blame them for being so warry of my pale ivory existence.

Mami also explained to me while her little son Erwin played with my hair, how her visions work. So the vision she sees is a possibility that will happen with how the current things are. If she recognizes what the vision is about, she can urge the others to act in a way to avoid the danger or seize prosperity. Mostly, though, she isn't able to locate the time or place of the vision and in such a case, she can't voice an advice. If such a thing happens, she goes to the Elders and they discuss the possibilities and future actions.

If the future gets changed, Mami will not dream of that vision again. The vision of her death amidst fire is of a huge concern for the whole Clan because it hasn't vanished, even though they'd moved since then twice.

"What about the phrasing of the visions, is that a thing for you Seers? Speaking in riddles?" I asked, handing over to Erwin my velvet satchel with colourful beads to play with and chew on.

Mami laughed lightly. "It's not hereditary if you mean it like that. But voicing the vision will affect all the people around and yes, I cannot lie, that's something I've sworn, to never lie, but even the words themselves can affect the future. Before saying anything, I first have to think about it carefully and more than once I've had to withhold parts of the visions because informing about them would cause more danger and grief than saying nothing."

"It sounds like a tough role to take on," I said, evading the satchel that just barely missed my face.

Mami just smiled at me. There was something in her face, showing sadness but I couldn't figure out what. I just wondered if she might have kept to herself any part of the vision she had while seeing me. "Ok, now show me your hand!" Mami took my hand in her palm, looking at it, slightly frowning as she was trying to concentrate.

"Can you do chiromancy?" I asked, and with my free hand I pulled the energetic toddler on his way towards the door back to us.

Mami laughed. "You're a great caretaker, that's good to know. I do this "palm reading" just for fun and because it's somewhat expected of me with my visions and all."

Barck - the local taverner, until now only listening to us while cleaning the cups, handed the Chieftain her drink and join in on the conversation: "She makes money with that silly witchcraft but I ain't complainin'. Not many pass by here to spend theirs and locals got barely any. Erwin!" The toddler froze on the spot and decided to abandon the thought of pulling the cloth of the table along with all the tableware that would fall on him.

"He can't speak but he listens to my husband very well," Mami chuckled. "So! What are you interested in, concerning your future?"

I watched Barck take his son behind the counter and to the back of the house, probably to change Erwin's pants. "I… want to become a Shaman and travel and do adventures but I'm weak…"

The Chieftain sat down to us again, now with her drink, watching closely. There were only a few other people in the long house, mostly men, drinking gerb, a very strong beer, thick in its consistence. I was holding tightly onto a cup of hot wine, served to me by Barck a few minutes ago.

"You are concerned about your strength, I see. The Chieftain will tell you more about your Shaman capabilities than me, I'm afraid but let me see… Hmm… hmmm…"

I was left hanging in anticipation for a few moments. Nervosity eating at me.

"I think there's nothing to worry about, my dear," she said finally. "You're definitely going to outlive us all. Thank you!" For a moment, I wondered what is she thanking me for. Whether for me allowing her to do her thing or for living a long life. Living a happy long life would be much better to hear, though.

"That's great news," Chieftain congratulated me. "Now, let me say my peace."

The two women handed me among themselves as a fresh curiosity or a piece of meat.

The Chieftain put a hand on my shoulder. "Now call your Spirit Companion," she ordered.

I nodded, took out Arind's stone and called for my Bear. The whole height of the building was suddenly full of the White Bear standing on two feet a roaring, a-three-meter tall, viciously looking animal.

I have to say, I liked the effect it had on other people who saw it for the first time. Everyone in the long house turned their attention to us. The Chieftain frowned, even more wrinkles forming on her face. "And you say, you haven't undergone the Initiation Ritual, yet, right?" She got up and decided to look at the Bear from all angles.

"Yes, that's right," I nodded. "He showed up once when I was in trouble."

"And were you trying to summon it?"

"I was thinking about that and unconsciuosly, I think, I was. Or at that time, I knew how it's done and my intention was to call for help and he came. I've been able to summon him ever since. To control him, that's the problem."

"The Chieftain stopped pacing and just watched the Bear. "Even if you knew "how it's done", you shouldn't have been able to summon it, my dear… We have a girl here with similar conditions but also very different. And from what I remember, that have been several like her and not one like you. You say, your only trouble is comunicating with your Spirit Companion? No fatigue or regular fevers and such…?"

"No, nothing like that. And the communication also clears when there are strong emotions involved… Like he feels what I feel but he doesn't hear the words."

"How many times did it save your life?"

"I'm not sure, his company saves me everyday," I put a hand in the Bear's glowing furr.

"I will have to meditate," announced the Chieftain and left the long house.

#Scraps of Past V: The Ice Lands’ Tragedy Forgotten in Snow part III

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