#but in the time it took to finish this I did her whole questline and boss fight again and uh oh she might be one of my faves now

[leyartser]

*runs into another one of her victims* God she's such an artist <3

[iruiji]

SAGAU but Creator Reader has been tagging along with the Gourmet Supremos.

If you didn't know or have forgotten, Gourmet Supremos are one of those quest series that is randomized because some part of the questline can only be accessed with dailies (like Whispers in the Wind or Snezhnaya Does Not Believe in Tears or Garcia's Paean).

This questline spans from Inazuma up to Sumeru. I think there were 6-7 quests in total? I forgot. (it's 8).

(These are Julie, Parvaneh and Xudong in order.) There are more characters that made a cameo in here but we'll just limit it with these three.

Context dropped, onto the short HCs.

• Okay so, I didn't really read the whole story of this one so I'm just going to make some random HCs on the fly. I'm aiming for a goody-feel with this one so no heavy angst will be involved.

• Alright, so. Xudong is the leader of the Gourmet Supremos, and he only found you because when you land in Inazuma, you literally dropped into their camp and was about to steal a sausage from Julie's backpack (but there were so many ingredients there!!!)

• Xudong was fuming, lmao.

"THIEF!! SOMEONE, HELP!"

• Aight, geez, made you run a marathon there.

• The next time you've met, all three were together and they saw you roasting some lavender melon in some dilapidated tent you found while walking aimlessly. Hey, better than no shelter at all. For some unfathomable reason, your inventory only consists of food materials - with everything, and I mean everything, missing.

• God damn. It's like the heaven is telling you something. 🙄

• Anyways, yeah. So for some reason, the only access to the goddamn ingredients are locked, and you can't use it and you don't know when you would be able to use it, so you have to scrounge up whatever pitiful sources you can get.

• Sadly, it's mostly lavender melons.

• Like, you already made several dishes from this and it's really starting to grind on your gears, so you took a dive in one of the caverns and found some meat and was happily grilling it with the melons when the trio came out of nowhere.

"Thief!"

The hell. "I didn't get the sausage, though."

"But you still tried to!"

"I mean, I was dying of hunger, so.. you know."

Julie, bless her heart, gets in between you two. "It's fine, Xudong. They needed help, did they not?"

"But-"

This time, Parvaneh chimes in. "As they've told you, they didn't get anything, so let it go. And you." She points at you with calloused finger. "Who are you?"

That caught you off guard a little. Told them your name and, to Xudong's bewilderment, started chatting amicably with you. Some time later though, he softened a bit but still a little cautious. They traded cooking tips with you, and, to their utmost surprise, you exchanged many tips on cooking as well.

"How do you know all this?" Xudong asked as you finished explaining the difference between sauteing onion and garlic first.

"Oh. I'm uh, a professional chef back in our place. Been years though, so yeah." You replied as you took a bite of their chicken. "Holy shit, why is this so good?"

Julie and Parvaneh just smiled proudly.

• So like, you became a new addition to their team - but you actually specialize in desserts. Xudong has many a great views in cooking, as well as the two ladies, and together you journeyed the whole of Inazuma for rare ingredients and made some two or three journals that have been since published and loved by people. (The fangirling/fanboying is real when you saw Xiangling's message drooling about your own version of Tiramisu).

• One day, however, you lot came across a shrine - it doesn't look abandoned, oddly, but it looks really, really old. You asked them what's the deal with this one, and they explained about the Creator.

Oh.

You're in SAGAU?

Shit.

"People said they've come back, but we don't really know.."

Double shit.

• With that knowledge, you try and avoid the main cities as much as possible and only let the three buy on populated areas. Thank God they didn't really notice you suddenly covering half your face with a mask - which you only shrugged when asked.

"I like masks."

Fair enough, they suppose.

• ..oh fuck, is that Yae Miko?

"Ara, and who is this?"

Xudong, Julie and Parvaneh bows and you hastily followed.

"She is our new companion, Lady Miko."

She looks at you with an impish grin. "Oh?"

Dont act suspicious. Don't act suspicious.

"..yo."

Nice.

• Coming across the main characters from the game are very, VERY rare. You can actually count on one hand the characters you've met:

Yae Miko;

Thoma (he was going around asking for favors as usual and you bump into each other and only had quick apologies as interaction);

Kujou Sara (she was patrolling the area and asked about your mask - which you replied that it's part of your outfit. damn, her glare was fucking menacing!);

Kuki Shinobu (you were side to side buying groceries once), and lastly;

Kamisato Ayato (you actually didn't meet - you just saw him giving speech in a podium for some event you just came across).

• You figured, hey, maybe you're NOT the creator or whatever. And just tried to live normally after some time. The mask stayed though, because you just survived the pandemic back here and was cautious.

• About a year and six months with the team, Xudong suggested you come all to Sumeru to expand your knowledge. Holy shit, yes please!

• ..and then you met the Traveler on your way.

"Your Grace..?"

Triple shit.

😭 sorry for disappearing for about a year - i was too lazy finishing anything. And now, I added another idea not to finish on the list 💀 wrote this whole thing in like 30 minutes motivation really is a wonderful thing, huh?

[rodimissliveblogs]

Finishing the Dragon's Tears quest so early on has added such a weird dimension to everything that I do now. I have a normal amount of feelings about this.

(For reference, I went and did the Rito Village main questline, then collected all the memories, and then went and did the Zora's Domain main quest.)

Link knows what happened to Zelda now. He knows where she went. He knows what became of her. He pulled the Master Sword out of her head and she flew away without a backwards glance at him. He goes and tells Impa what he learned from the geoglyphs. And then he goes back to his business of saving Hyrule. That's what Zelda gave everything to help him to, to get the Master Sword back to him.

"If we learn what happened during the Upheaval, it could give clues to Princess Zelda's whereabouts" except he already knows. Everyone is talking about the mystery of the princess' disappearance. Link already knows. Sidon says that the Sage in the vision looked a lot like Zelda; perhaps she could have been transported to the distant past? Yes, I know for sure that she was. Sidon says he'll do everything he can to gather more information on "our lost Princess Zelda". I already found her, and by finding her I know she's lost even further to us.

Before they go on to save Zora's Domain from the ever-present sludge, Yona tells Sidon that he needs to stop yielding to the fear of losing again someone else he loves. Link's already lost someone, again. Yona asks Link to take care of Sidon while they're up in the sky, bring him back safe. Of course he will; Link lost Zelda and he won't lose anyone else he cares about now.

The whole of Hyrule is looking for her. The newspaper has reporters looking into rumors of Zelda sightings. Link pursued two of those leads and found them both busts; now he knows that every other lead will be, before he chases them. Perhaps he can learn something more of the Zelda-imitation he saw in his real Zelda's memories. That is the only thing new he could learn.

A researcher offers to translate the tablets in the sky that were written in ancient Hyrulean. Some of the tablets talk about a Zelda. How strange, the researcher posits, to see that name come up. Link knows the truth of it and he's the only one. The researcher translates accounts of Zelda's time in the ancient kingdom of Hyrule. They talk about her time there. The kindness that Rauru, Sonia, Mineru, and others showed her. She was cared for. Link saw that in the Dragon's Tears, too. They took care of Zelda, until the world fell apart, until the Demon King rose and was sealed away. Link couldn't help her, but he can take some small solace in the fact that he knows that she was cared for after she was displaced in time. For a time, she was safe.

Just for a time, of course. Link traverses the sky; a Light Dragon flies overhead. He falls back to land and everyone offers their help in locating their missing princess, like she hasn't already been lost and found and lost again and Link just has to carry on, knowing that.

[sleepymarmot]

Opened Skyrim thinking "I have to finish the fucking Dawnguard DLC" and found out that apparently all I had left to do was the final confrontation.

Okay, I travel to the vampire castle and mostly stay out of the fight against vampire mooks because in a game with friendly fire, no health bars, and desaturated dark visuals, it's very hard to tell which of these NPCs I'm supposed to shoot at.

In a few minutes I get to the final boss's room. He and Serana start bickering; I soon lose my patience and shoot at him with my crossbow. He summons like one or two weak adds, and the fight is over within a minute. With some amount of vindication, I finally dismiss Serana from the party: "I don't think [my adventures]'ll involve you". The NPCs say lines that clearly wrap up the quest, and I thin: that's all? How anticlimactic. Why did I even go on a whole quest to get that bow if all I needed to do with it was to shoot one arrow at a bubble? I thought I was supposed to do something epic to the sun.

I go google if there's anything else to do. Turns out, I can cure Serana from vampirism. The first guide I come across tells me I can talk to her about it "shortly after the battle". But by that time, she has long walked out of the room she was in. I go to Fort Dawnguard and look for her everywhere, but she isn't there yet (and neither is Isran, for that matter) even after I take a nap and more people return.

I check UESP and it says "once you've have left Harkon's room". Fine, I reload. The quest page also says "It is possible, if the Sneak skill is high enough and with high enough sneak attack damage, to kill Harkon during his dialogue with Serana without any major combat", so I do just that and shoot him during the first line of the conversation and not fifth. The fucker dies to two or three bolts from my crossbow (improved to the level of Legendary 25). I don't even need to swap to Auriel's bow.

I try to talk to Serana inside the room. Three unrelated dialogue options. I walk out and wait for her to walk out too. Same options. I invite her back into my party. The option to talk about curing vampirism appears. I click on one of them, and she immediately refuses to talk about this further. UESP says "Unless you pick a self-centered response, she will immediately leave to see Falion for a cure". I didn't think the option I picked was self-centered, but I try another one anyway. Same result.

The explanation seems to be that I locked myself out of curing her now by suggesting it earlier on the questline. I wouldn't know, it was years ago of real time for me. Luckily, UESP has the code to undo that flag. I try it immediately, but it doesn't work because Serana already rejected me. I reload, type in the same long code (luckily preserved in the console from my first attempt), and it finally works. Serana accepts the idea and leaves to find the cure. Bye-bye! Hope to not see you soon! My job is done here. I can finally go to Solstheim!

This took me longer to type up than to play. Good riddance to one of the most annoyingly programmed and written quests and NPCs in this godforsaken game. I can only hope that the Dragonborn DLC is better.

[macgyvertape]

FF14 Stormblood thoughts

Lets see, I posted my running commentary on wrapping up Heavensward in Oct '22 so it's been a while. My friend and I got busy and took a break from the game.

A long time ago I forget who posted:

“#do new players know any opinion they have about stormblood is basically akin to #someone finishing da for the first time this year and saying they have some thoughts about anders they'd like to tell you about #like cool it's understandable you have these thoughts. i however am running for the hills”

which now that I've finished Stormblood I understand, and that's with skipping a bunch of non MSQ stuff.

I'm so excited for Shadowbringers, it was impossible for me to dodge spoilers since people I follow for D2 were posting about it, so I'm going into it knowing a lot of the big spoilers while the friend I play with has no idea. So I was very excited to see a certain skunk haired character pop up post expansion patch.

Actual running commentary on Shadowbringers below, I'm so glad I took notes for when I took a break

Wow so theres swimming in this new city?

I know vaguely who Zenos is and he’s the main antagonist. Just waiting for him to be introduced since the antagonist in the beginning is a joke of a dude with a hammer

Zenos shows up with like a golf club bag of swords, I know this dude is supposed to be this game’s attempt at Sepiroth but I’m not impressed

It was very easy to predict that some of the people we just did quest for were going to die. But damn something happens to Y'shtola every expansion 

This storyline is very serious and draws on real world issues, which could not be more of a contrast to my friend and I playing it as we hangout and eat dinner

Fighting an unwinnable fight with my 2 applicable WHM damage spells. Sure he slashed me up but I feel like in universe I can heal tank through anything but a drugged drink

Wow the Black Rose is some serious warcrimes chemical warfare. 

I thought Lolorito was dead what’s a dude working for him doing here

Fuck this fish-dude with the bell. Its totally personal

Wow so the imperial viceroy is a asshole who has people kill their family for displeasing her. Really casting the imperials as absolute monsters

Wow huge underwater sections, also didn’t know the dragon-ppl lived underwater

The more Yotsuyu talks the more I’m like “hmm maybe Ilberd had a point”

Susano is a delight, he’s just hamming it up

Huh so apparently Kurenai is the real princess and the person we fought was the body double, I’m going to continue this questline even though it isn’t worth it exp wise just to see how this plays out

Gotsetsu returning to the village: not sure if the intent was to have him be naive, but he comes off as an asshole with talking about how he is owed hospitality and complaining about the tone people talk to him in. Like dude, the whole village is going to face deadly repercussions if you’re seen.

I didnt realize there was a wolf-person race. Why can’t we play as them?

I thought Yugiri was gonna die when we fought Zenos round 2. Guess he’s one of those trope “lives for a strong fight”.  

Took a week break then coming back to another new faction with Cirina kinda feels like its killing the momentum

I wasn’t expecting this Sun cult, Magnai is such an asshole, like fuck off with the slavery and a double fuck you with the sexism

Gosetsu is so arrogant, like if he would just shut up things would go so much more smoothly

Is Koko and Sadu of the Dotharl trans or non binary? Great if they are. Like their belief in reincarnation seems pretty understandable if you factor in the later lore about sundered beings being shards of each other and merging over time

Can’t believe we’re letting this empire dude run away for a second time

Yotsuyu had sad childhood backstory, still not sympathetic for the injustices she commits now. 

Hien is gonna flood Doma Castle, i know this is like a historical tactic but all I’m thinking of is Rains of Castamere

Damn Gosetsu got taken out by a falling rock (ceiling), how anti climatic I’m not really torn up about it because all the characters just stood around talking

I’m gonna really hope Hien actually killed Yotsuyu with that sword blow

At first i thought some of the questnames were coincidences, but no Doma part of Stormblood has a fair amount of Hamilton references

Oh no Krile, feels like a real kick the dog moment for Fordola

Summoning a primal to bring back a dead child, the question isn’t if this will go poorly but the extent of how poorly it will go. (Although you can resurrect people in battle so I guess thats gameplay and story difference)

I appreciate how Allisaie tried another option

The Shri Lakshmi mechanics were hard and annoying, most challenging fight in a while

Big fire the death star vibes for Fordola, also I just realized she has thigh high tights with the gap between the skirt. WHY instead of armor like other characters get

A randomly appearing Estinien, how did he know to come here? Why now? I have no idea but what a cool entrance, this is the hottest he’s ever been

Does Fordola have the fuckin sharigan?!

Lyse looks hot in the new dress but its the most impractical thing for a fight wtf. Its total fanservice, player character and her fly towards eachother in what could easily be framed as a kiss then the achievement is called “cheek to cheek”

Key to Victory is the quest type I hate where I don’t have firm directions where to go and I got instawiped by the npc followers getting close to the wrong enemy. Wish I could start on very easy

So we freed Krile, what about the rest of the people in the pods?

Zenos turns into the primal dragon that used to be Ilberd, talk about desecrating Ilberd’s belief in using the power to fight the empire

This is a very anticlimatic ending to 4.0. I’m not emotionally tied to Zenos either enjoying him as a villain or hating him as a rival, more like “ah not this asshole again lets see who wins the fight by virtue of plot armor” 

So Zenos killed himself after getting 1 good fight, but I know he’ll be back. I’m imagine my character standing there like the Saitama “ok” face

Ok so Estinian stabbing the eyes means Lahabrea and Igeyorhm are super dead

Guess Elidibus stole Zenos’ body. They should have burned it

Nero being Cid’s ex is the funniest way to interpret him joining the Ironworks

Why is this Arnevald guy talking like he knows me

All of the above written before Jan 2023 and then I took a break till November

Got back into the game and its like “here’s a backstory about a guy who was the product of sexual assault from an occupying military force and his horrible childhood” and then “here’s Fordola’s sad backstory where her father was stoned to death by a mob for collaborating while he was protecting her”.

So that’s really sad, then the next quests are the Sultana’s backstory and “go to the golden saucer, try not to get distracted, challenge impossible”

The orb dissipation duty sucks, I just failed it so I could do it on very easy mode

Me: Alphinaud is gonna fuck up paying for this sword, he’s talking to a pawn broker. 30 min later: yeah he fucked up

Patch 2 sure is my least favorite, I don’t like Gosetsu or Yotsuyu 

Wow not a surprise  the Imperial diplomat is also an imperial zealot, and he’s Yotsuyu’s brother meaning that whole family tree is fucked up

Me: guess the Tsukuyomi wasn’t so infinite. My friend: One Piece was a better anime

The camera really emphasizes Asahi’s crazy eyes and obsession with Zenos. Funny since Zenos then is obsessed with the Warrior of Light

This Garlean with a bunch of Ascian mask trophies is kind of intimidating, but he much have just killed the weak sundered ones. I have no idea who he is, but funnily I know what Ascain is running around as Zenos

Extremely annoying 2 part solo duty that I had to redo when almost getting to the very end, followed by very funny Y'shtola shooting down a guy who had the hots for her

Hell yeah Exarch showing up, now the fun begins because I’m very spoiled on Shadowbringers and my fiend has no clue 

Me: Mr nap time himself! My friend: whose this guy. Such a fun intro with Emet being mean to his family and hamming it up, where he’s ???? until the name Solus is dropped

I appreciate the non serious tune and amount of dutch angles in his intro

Oh shit the Ascian hunter is Gaius (not Balter), I didn't recognize him at all since the part of his old mask around the eyes was white I thought that was his skin color

Oh I’ve been mispronouncing Emet-Selch with a ch sound. Also lmao he takes time to be mean to Varis

Ok after the 2 part negotiation with Varis I want to see Solus bully Varis some more. He deserves it

My friend doesn’t recognize the Crystal Exarch from the brief bit at all, if he didn’t remember who Lahabrea is then no chance he recognizes G’raha Tia except that G’raha has been in Dawntrail marketing 

Damn so Stormblood ends with a fade to black and then a jumpscare evil Varis grin…

Post quest cutscene: Zenos bodyhopping I guess

[foxingpeculiar]

Elden Ring:

I took a little detour to go finish Fia's questline, cos I realized I hadn't gone to the Deeproot Depths yet. So went and did all of that (so. many. basilisks.), beating her champions, getting her rune, giving D's armor to his brother and then getting it back, the whole deal. The Fortisax, the Lich Dragon or whatever... he wasn't shit. He fried me pretty good with all that electric nonsense of his, but I beat him on the first try.

The Haligtree was something of another story. I got to and through the Consecrated Snowfield okay, and did some extra stuff there (a cave, I think? I honestly don't remember). But getting through the Haligtree proper and the whole Elphael, Brace of the Haligtree section was rough. Loretta (the rematch) took 2 or 3 tries, and I STG the run from the site of grace where Millicent was hanging to the next one--it's a great rune farming area, but jeezum crow it took a while to make it through. In the end, I was only able to do it by cheesing it past the room with the two Cleanrot Knights--one at at time I could maybe handle them, but two together in the middle of a long run was too much.

Speaking of Millicent, I finished her questline, insofar as she's now dead. The Ulcerated Tree Spirit it took beating to get there was fun--he's in a lake of Scarlet Rot, so I cheesed him with a bow from the nearby branch. It took literally almost every arrow I had, but it worked--he couldn't hit me. Then I opted to help Millicent out and killed her invaders, but she took out her needle and died anyway.

So now I've gotten to Melania. I'd heard stories, you know, that she was S-tier difficulty, up there with Orphan of Kos and Sister Friede and the like. "Nah," I thought foolishly, "she can't be that bad." But no, dudes, she is that bad. Worse, actually. Like she would be a difficult fight just straight up, maybe not quite THAT hard, but still a major challenge. But the thing that really puts it over the top is she heals every time she hits you. Like no... that's just straight up broken. I've only ever been able to drain maybe a quarter of her health bar in a dozen or so attempts so far, and that's only with both me and a Mimic Tear wielding bleed weapons. But that's about how long the Mimic Tear lasts, and then she turns her full attention to me and shit is over.

I legit don't know if I can do this one. Like, I'ma keep trying for a while. And there's some other stuff I can do, like fight both versions of Mohg (I've found the one in the sewers, but not the Lord of Blood version yet) and progress toward the lighting the thing up here I came to do up in the mountaintops, but I might have to give up my plan to save Melina, at least for this playthrough. I don't know if I want to get stuck on this wall forever, y'know? We'll see how long my patience holds out.

[niteshade925]

Well now that I'm done with my 3 days of near non-stop work.......time to discuss Inazuma's story.

First, the good. I know there was a "thousand word essay" post from the CN server explaining why v2.0's story sucked, but my honest feeling was that it really wasn't bad at all. Yea the v2.0 main questline was pretty average, but we have to keep in mind that MHY is also going for an indirect style of storytelling with Genshin, which I like to call "Dark Souls style". Aside from the main questline, most of the lore and worldbuilding is hidden in weapon/artifact/item descriptions, and of course we actually pick up "books" from the open world to read. This is where Genshin's writing is at its best. From what I can tell right now, Inazuma has a lot of this hidden lore, like the story of Tatarigami and what exactly happened in/to Higi village, and I really enjoyed it.

And now the bad. After finishing v2.1's main quest and Ei/Beelzebul's quest, I can't help but feel disappointed. The writing quality for the main story really deteriorated in v2.1. The conclusion to the Inazuma chapter seemed rushed (Ei lost most people close to her, shut herself away alone for 500 years, and somehow Yae was able to talk her out of it in 5 minutes. Fiction is not real, but you gotta at least make it believable lol), and the mechanical Raiden sock puppet twist left me more confused than satisfied. Ei/Beelzebul's characterization was one of the worst things about the ending too. The way the story is written, the way Ei reacted to all of her past trauma just sounds really immature, even for a normal person, and Ei is both the god and ruler of a whole country. I would rather the writers just took out the whole confusing mess about a sock puppet robot Raiden Shogun and just made Ei the one who issued the Vision Hunt Decree and all that. This would immediately clear up most of the confusion surrounding the robot and Ei, and also make the final confrontation and Ei's new path to redemption much more satisfying. Well, maybe that's it. Maybe they didn't want people to think Ei's evil, so they added the whole robot body double nonsense, only to have it make Ei look incredibly childish instead. Great. And even if the robot thing is intended all along, why didn't they expand on how Ei wanted to improve Inazuman lives by eliminating desire? If that's done well, it can also make Ei look less childish than she does right now. I will say, Ei's character quest did flesh out her character more, but maybe it should've been part of the main v2.1 questline?

Important plot aside, the end of La Signora felt really insignificant too. I guess the whole thing and the slightly creepy and confusing headache scene immediately after was meant to showcase and emphasize the fleeting and fragile nature of human lives, but I had to think about it afterwards to arrive at that conclusion. When I was playing the quests, I just felt confused. The themes are there and they are fine, but the way it was conveyed was a mess.

Anyway I'm still excited about the side quests and their storylines though. I'm going to finish exploring the rest of Watatsumi island and Seirai island, and hopefully I can discover more hidden stories like the one about Higi village.

[raelly-writing]

Into the Abyss

Thancred/fWoL, 5.0 Shadowbringers MSQ level 80 spoilers.

I’ve had this in my drafts for ages, but finally was in a decent enough mental space to finish it up. And now I think I’ll go and write something fluffy.

Passing mention of the tank role questline. :)

AO3 link

----

”Y’shtola, Urianger, I need to know.”

Viana frowned at the elezen scholar where he remained seated on one of the undersea rocks. His head was lowered, whether in thought or to avoid her gaze she did not know. There was a twinge of guilt for the forceful tone she’d taken but this was no time to beat around the bush. Besides, focusing on them was better than letting her gaze stray to the silent, white-clad figure in her periphery that had remained stock still throughout this whole exchange.

Standing next to Urianger, Y’shtola crossed her arms, a disapproving frown of her own on her features. “I will not have you prematurely end your life,“ she responded firmly.

“And I am not planning to,” Viana shot back “But I need to know that you can dispose of me if it comes down to it.” Despite trying not to, her eyes flickered to Thancred for just a second. His head was downturned, hair obscuring his face, but his posture was tense where he leaned against the rock wall. Her chest grew tight, and suddenly it felt hard to speak. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she returned her attention to Y’shtola and Urianger. “I can’t ask any of you to strike me down - for all we know the Light will just corrupt whoever does it into another Lightwarden.”

As if to remind her, sparks of white suddenly danced at the edges of her vision. She bit back a groan as she closed her eyes, though she already knew it did nothing to lessen the glare of the flashes. “So, tell me, is there a way I could strand myself in the rift where the Light won’t harm anyone?”

“Opening a gate to transport thine there wouldst require preparations,” Urianger’s quiet voice replied. “The Exarch did not share how he planned to accomplish such a feat.”

Prickles of pain skittered up and down her spine, making her muscles tense under the weight of her gunblade and armour chafing against her suddenly hypersensitive skin. Forcing herself to keep her voice steady, she spoke slowly and firmly, “You had days while I lay unconscious.” The dizzying lights danced at the inside of her eyelids, taunting her. For all the things Urianger had concealed, right now she needed that resolve of his to do what was best for the worlds at large. “Don’t tell me you did not think of some way to do what G’raha- the Exarch had planned to do himself, or some other way to subdue me if it came to the worst.”

There was a brief silence. “There… may be some way, yes,” Urianger finally responded. “But I hath not the time to ascertain it to be an assured method to contain the aether thy harbour. If thou truly is able to traverse the Rift to the Source, mayhaps there wouldst be a way to prevent thy from reaching thy destination...”

Gritting her teeth, she nodded. “It’s better than nothing at all.” She wanted to see G’raha rescued, but she could feel the Light grinding away at her very being.

It was disorienting how slow her senses and reflexes were becoming – if they faced more opposition down here in the sea trenches she’d have to let Thancred take the lead in whatever fights there were. Her limbs felt too stiff, as though her skin was already in the process of turning into fine porcelain, and the familiar weight of her gunblade seemed too heavy in her hands.

And it wasn’t just her physical body that was affected. Though she had not said anything to the others, while imbuing some of her cartridges with aether she’d felt like the usually easy task took more effort than usual, like her aether was stagnating. In this state, she’d just be a danger to herself, and more importantly, a hazard to the others if she failed to intercept a blow meant for one of them.

As the flare of pain stilled to a mulling, lingering ache, a numbing, cold sensation of fear flared in her chest in its stead. Would she even be able to see this to the end before whatever Ryne had done to contain the Light failed?

A hand on her arm made her open her eyes to find Y’shtola at her side. Her expression was determined, though Viana had known her long enough to catch the traces of concealed worry in her expression. “Whatever Emet-Selch has in store for us, I for one will fight to see you ridden of this burden, my friend.” She turned her head ever so slightly, glancing back towards Urianger and Thancred. “We all will.”

“I know,” Viana replied quietly. “And I hate asking it of you three…” She sensed the weight of Thancred’s eyes on her then, and swallowed, her throat feeling as dry as if she’d swallowed a mouthful of sand. “But… if I’m turning,” she spoke, slow and firm. Urianger finally looked up and she met his golden gaze. The guilt hung heavily over his features. “I need to know you all will do what is necessary, whatever that may entail. Contain me, seal me away until you can dispose of me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, but nodded. “Thy will shall be done.”

A small, tired smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you, it eases my mind to know that.”

The sound of the twins’ bickering drifting through the cave made them all glance in the direction of where they and Ryne had gone to scout ahead in the tunnels. It felt wrong to keep this conversation from them, but Twelve, she knew none of them would accept the idea. Y’shtola cast one discerning glance in Thancred’s direction then turned to Urianger. “Let us hear what they’ve found.”

Urianger nodded and got up, but paused for a moment. “I swore to thee that I wouldst see this made right,” he spoke quietly. “Have faith my friend, and we shall prevail.”

“My faith in you all never waver, Urianger,” Viana replied with a small, reassuring smile. There was a flicker of something akin to relief in his expression, and he finally managed a hesitant smile of his own before following Y’shtola to meet the younger members of their group.

As their steps faded away, leaving her alone with Thancred in the small seafloor grotto, he pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against. When she bridged the gap between them with a few slow steps, he glanced up at her. There was a hard determination to his eyes, but there was pain there too.

Reaching out, she took his hand in hers, not sure what to say. Thancred’s fingers were cold where they were left exposed by his gloves - her own were not faring much better - but it was a welcome skin on skin contact before he laced his with hers. The comforting weight of his other arm settled around her waist, hugging her close so he could press his cold nose against the side of her neck. Inhaling slowly, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his hair, wrapping her other arm around his shoulders. The scent of salt, fish and seaweed clung to him, but she could detect that earthy, masculine tone, laced with gunpowder, that she associated with him - a comforting reminder of the few private moments they’d been afforded in the past weeks.

“It won’t come to that,” he broke the silence with a gruff murmur. “You will be fine.”

She knew it was as much to reassure himself as her. Unbidden, her thoughts strayed back to that first morning she’d woken to him tracing the scars on her back. Despite the heavy subject it’d sparked, the intimate warmth of that moment, the joy she’d felt just resting in his arms, the tender look in his eyes and heartfelt smile… it was a sharp contrast to the cold that seemed to have seeped so deep into her bones that she wondered if she’d ever feel warm again. Drawing a slow, shuddering breath she squeezed his hand. Had it truly only been a few weeks since then? Would that she somehow could turn back the clock to be back in that moment with him again.

But the path would lead here again no matter what.

A sudden flare of pain made Viana groan as white sparks once more danced behind her eyelids. Vaguely, she was aware of his hand slipping from hers to hold her steady when her knees threatened to give out from under her. It felt like something jagged was logged in her chest, making it hard for her to draw breath.

“Easy there, I’ve got you…” Thancred’s low voice spoke in her ear. Trembling, she tried to focus on him and not the pain or the panic that bubbled right under the surface of it. The searing pain in her chest continued, her breaths pained wheezes while hot tears stung at her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

Thancred kept murmuring into her ear while holding her steady, even as she leaned more and more of her weight onto him. Had he not, she would probably have tumbled to the hard seafloor as she jerked to the side and finally, after a series of rib cracking coughs, spat out more of that viscous white fluid. Nausea curled in her stomach at the cloying, numbing feeling it left in her mouth. It was like having a mouthful of fine, gooey sand in texture.

With a trembling hand, she reached for the water canteen hanging off her belt, but Thancred’s hand was already on the clasp, and pressed the cool metal container into her hand.

“Here,” he spoke as he quickly unscrewed the top.

Choking out her thanks amidst the waves of pain, Viana took a quick mouthful of the water, eager to clear her mouth of the vile liquid. Thancred said nothing, just kept her steady when she leaned to the side and spat out the white-tinted water.

She felt him press a brief kiss to her cheek as he steadied her once more, arms securely wrapped around her. These attacks weren’t getting any easier. Shivering, she cradled the canteen in her hands and rested her head on his shoulder, wishing for the pain to subside.

“Better sit down for a moment,” he said quietly.

Nodding, still with her eyes closed, she let him lead her. White sparks still danced behind her eyelids and there was an unpleasant, crawling sensation at her back, as if her skin was shifting and changing form.

Thancred knelt in front of her as he helped sit down on a low rock, staying there with his arms wrapped around her while murmuring soothing words in her ear to ease her through the waves of pain. She was not used to feeling small, or vulnerable or weak and fragile. Ever since she’d left Ul’dah as a teen she’d been used to shouldering her own problems, to carry on no matter what happened. But as she curled herself around Thancred’s solid frame, there was comfort in not having to hide her quiet whimpers while she kept her face pressed against the crook of his neck, to just allow herself to be held and supported without fear of judgment or pity.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two that they sat there, yet it felt like an hour before the white lights and stabs of pain slowly ebbed away once more and her breaths came a bit easier. Awkwardly, she loosened the vice-like grip she had on his coat sleeve, trying to will her hand not to tremble. “Forgive me,” she whispered harshly as she straightened her back.

She felt one of his hands leave her waist to cradle her jaw, keeping her from rising to her full height. “You are not the one I want apologies from,” he replied as he rested his brow to hers.

Despite his soft tone, there was a hard undercurrent to it that betrayed his anger at the situation, and those who had shepherded her towards this destination.

He shifted slightly, his nose nuzzling against hers - a motion that had quickly become familiar to her. The memory of Tesleen turning flashed before her mind’s eye. A hard jolt of fear made her jerk her head to the side before he could kiss her - fear that some of that tainted ichor might still linger on her lips, of somehow passing on the corruption festering within her to him.

Thancred froze, hazel eyes seeking hers.

Tears stung in her eyes while her heart ached for that small bit of intimacy. Blindly, she set the canteen aside and grasped his wrist, pressing a kiss to the back of his fingers, where they were covered by his gloves. “I’m sorry I just… the Light… it corrupts, I don’t…”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, the harsh, jagged edges of regret and sorrow all too clear in his voice. “I understand.”

All of a sudden, she felt cruel. If that argument in Twine had gone differently, if she had not been angry enough to accidentally let slip what she’d hid away in the depth of her heart, then… then perhaps he would not have kissed her and they would have just kept ignoring this that lay between them. Perhaps then he would have an easier time to let go of her, to just mourn her as a friend, rather than something more - forever a ‘what maybe could have been’ instead of something real and tangible, something that felt good, and sweet and right that was cut short by the cruelty of the universe.

A hot tear rolled down her cheek. Death was something she had made peace with a long time ago. Yet, this primordial force that was threatening to break free and twist her very being into something wretched and relentless, it scared her to her very core. It would not be clean, or final. Some part of her would linger, like fragments of a cup that had been shattered against the wall, its contents still barely clinging to the shards.

The mere thought of turning on him and the others made nausea twist and coil in her stomach. Thancred was smart - he must know that it was a very real possibility that he might have to fight her, to buy the others time to contain her were she to suddenly lose control. Even if she knew for sure that striking her down would not corrupt the next person into another Lightwarden, she could not ask that of him. Not after seeing first-hand how that act of putting down a loved one had festered and eaten away at Granson nearly to the brink of ruin.

Regret and grief were such potent emotions.

Drawing a slow, shuddering breath, she closed her eyes. “Thank you, for everything, Thancred,” she whispered. “They’ve been dear to me, these past few weeks.” Would that she had had more time with him.

Thancred moved slightly, slipping his hands from hers to cradle her jaw. His thumbs brushed over her cheekbones as he held her gaze. A turmoil of emotions swirled in his eyes, his brow furrowed and jaw clenched. “I’m not going anywhere yet,” he spoke firmly. “So don’t you dare try to tell me good-bye now. Not when we still have a chance to defeat that Ascian and somehow fix this.” There was a flicker of despair over his features, a momentary crack in his stern facade. “Just don’t.”

Viana blinked at him, then slowly nodded as she swallowed. “You’re right.” When she woke in the Crystarium, she had not planned on quitting, to just go quietly and let whatever Emet-Selch said come to pass. She’d fight for this world, and herself. For Thancred, the twins, Y’shtola, Urianger, Ryne and G’raha. For the Source.

Faint though it was, hope did remain.

A small smile curled the corner of Thancred’s mouth, though it did not reach his eyes. Leaning up, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “There’s that determined look I know so well.”

Huffing out a tired laugh, she nodded. “Alright, let’s do this then.”

Viana gathered up her canteen and returned it to her belt, then stood up on only slightly unsteady legs. Thancred squeezed her hand reassuringly as they left the small grotto to find the others. She’d draw her strength from his support, and that of her friends’, as they pushed onwards, further into the darkness.

[aspiring-ginger]

Of All the Stars in the Sky (Jaskier x Reader)

Request:  Yay! So happy your requests are open! I love your wriring. Can you please do something with Jaskier? Maybe reader has been trained with a sword most their life and travels with Geralt and Jaskier. He could write a song about the reader (very original haha) or reader gets hurt and Jaskier worries for them. I don’t know, thank you ♡

Summary: Geralt & the gang are on their way to Vizima when some trouble brews outside of the city gates. Suspicions rise when the reader doesn’t show up to the New Narakort Inn as planned.

Warnings: Strong language, violence. Nothing unusual for the Witcher.

Word count: 5,808

Pairing(s): Jaskier x reader

A/N: Here ya go, anon! I got carried away and couldn’t choose one of the two options, so I just did both. Almost 6k haha. Reader’s gender wasn’t mentioned so I did my best to keep it gender neutral. I took some inspiration from The Witcher 1, as well as the Carnal Sins questline from The Witcher 3. Also thanks to my best friend for helping me write this (she doesn’t have a tumblr or I’d tag), thanks bb!! Some of you wanted to be added to my taglist so I’m going to do it by fandom, character, and series. Please specify which you want to be tagged in or else you’re getting everything lol. So anyone who commented on Forget-Me-Not chap 1 is going to be just for that series, unless you said otherwise. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy this one! As always requests, comments, and feedback is always appreciated. Happy Valentine’s Day!!

Taglist: @dandelionwitcher​ @thunderdog8​

Masterlist

There was a simple comfort found on the open road. Surrounded by nature untainted by man, nothing but earth and sky around you. Everything raw and untamed just as nature intended.

It was here out in the open where you found yourself currently, head resting on your bunched up cloak propped up on a log, angled up at the sky. Geralt and Jaskier were around somewhere, each tending to his own business. Geralt had been holed up in his tent, most likely replenishing his stock of potions and elixirs after your last hunt.

Geralt had learned quickly that any and all alchemy was to be done privately in his room or tent, away from Jaskier’s prying eyes. You had only been travelling with the odd pair for a few weeks at that point, still unsure of the limits and boundaries you had with the two. You had been sitting with them close to the small campfire Geralt had set up. It was a warm night, the boys both shedding their outer layers and rolling their sleeves to get as much air as possible. You were intrigued by the witcher’s alchemy as you had never seen anything quite like it before. Sure, you’d seen your share of healers’ work but this was something else entirely. Apparently neither had Jaskier, as he was avidly asking questions and inching closer by the minute. It wasn’t long before Jaskier’s relentless inquiries turned to bickering, and whatever unfinished concoction Geralt had been making was spilled. The ground sizzled when splashed, as did the boys’ exposed skin. While you pitied them both for the chemical burns, the rest of the week had been pretty entertaining. Stock full of pouting and theatrics.

You snickered at the memory as you stared up at the night sky. Jaskier’s childish actions that week had really brought the three of you together, and solidified your part in the rag-tag team. You had come to the rescue when ambushed by bandits later in the week. Geralt was unable to defend both himself and the bard given his current injuries, and you had swooped in at the last second deflecting a blade aimed at Jaskier’s throat. After that moment you had decided to stick with the boys for good.

“What are you laughing at? Something funny in the sky?” Jaskier teased, propping himself up against the log next to you.

You hadn’t heard him approach, jumping slightly at his words. He had been washing up at the nearby creek and you weren’t expecting him to be back so soon. The fresh smell of his soap- a mixture of sandalwood, sage, and a sweet fruit, cherry maybe?, hit your nose as he nudged your shoulder with his and laughed.

“No, just remembering something funny,” You smiled.

“Oh? Would you care to share? Geralt’s ‘locked’ himself in his tent so I could use a bit of a pick me up.” He teased, stretching his arms behind his head to mimic your position.

You jokingly hummed in thought, “Remember that time with Geralt’s potions and you managed to burn right through your shirt? What, a year ago now? You demanded extra special care for your 'terrible wounds’ that whole week! I swear I thought Geralt was going to tear your head off.”

“In my defense, that had been one of my favorite shirts from home, which was absolutely flattering by the way, and they really were terrible wounds! I seem to recall you coming to my rescue- my knight in shining armor with her noble steed,” He giggled and dramatically draped a hand over his forehead.

“I’m sure Blueberry just loved carrying your spoiled arse around,” You snorted.

Jaskier scoffed, “Blueberry and I have become great friends since then. She adores me!”

You heard your mare snort as if in response, and the two of you dissolved into a fit of giggles and laughter. You wiped a stray tear from your eye and sighed. You turned your head to look at the bard

“We’re finally headed back to Vizima tomorrow. Are you excited for a real bath and a soft bed?”

“How could I not? One can only travel on the road for so long before needing a well earned refresher. Even the witcher has his limits,” You hummed in agreement. “Besides! I’ll be debuting my newest song. This one will be a hit, I’m sure of it! Even better than the last!”

“Really? Even better than Toss a Coin?” You raised a brow in mock surprise.

“Let’s just say that I have a better inspiration this time around,” He turned to face you as well, throwing a wink in your direction.

You let out a nervous laugh and prayed to Melitele that the darkness around you hid the blush that dusted your cheeks. You cleared your throat and pointed up at the sky, hoping to change the topic.

“Do you ever get lost in the beauty of the stars? We see them every night, yet each time I look up they almost take my breath away. I get dizzy just looking at them all.”

Jaskier let out a low chuckle, “Wonderfully spoken, (y/n). Mind if I use that in a song?”

You rolled your eyes “I’m being serious! I just don’t understand how something so beautiful just goes unnoticed by so many.”

You heard Jaskier hum next to you and you glanced over to see his reaction. His face and body was turned to face you, a small smile gracing his cheeks. Firelight flickered in his bright blue eyes and you were overwhelmed with the scent of him again. Seconds ticked by as you were pulled in by his gaze. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes dart down to your lips. His face was so close to yours, you just wanted to reach out and brush his still damp hair out of his eyes, pulling his face close so you could-

You awkwardly cleared your throat, sliding yourself away from him before you could do anything foolish you would regret.

“I um, I-I’ll see you in the morning, Jaskier. Goodnight.” You scooped up your cloak and scurried over to your bedroll. Seeing as how you only had two tents between the three of you and you quite enjoyed the weather this time of year, you offered Geralt and Jaskier a tent each. You cursed yourself and you turned away in your blankets, trying to ignore the bard across the camp.

Jaskier sighed and called his goodnights out to you and Geralt as well. He glanced up at the stars with a wistful smile. It would only be one more day, maybe two, before he could finally follow through with his plan. He had connections with the New Narakort Inn where he arranged your group’s stay in the city. Hopefully by then he would have the lyrics finished and ready to perform. His previous attempts at flirting had failed to get your attention, so as a final resort he devised his whole plan to perform his new song to you, as a confession. 

He climbed into his tent, pulling out his notebook and scratching out a few words with a sigh. He made a note to mention your love for the stars, and you technically didn’t say no to his request to quote you earlier. He pulled out his lute and rehearsed the melody of the song, mumbling possible lyrics under his breath. You smiled as you rolled over, Jaskier’s calming chords lulling you to sleep.

You woke as the first rays of sunlight began to peek through the trees above. A light fog had settled in around you, refracting the light around you. It was quite pretty, actually. You sat up and stretched your arms out, then ran a hand down your face when you faltered. Looking down in confusion, you saw an extra blanket pooled in your lap. One sniff and you identified it as Jaskier’s. Since when did he wake up early? You supposed it had gotten a little chilly during the night, but it was spring after all. You wanted to enjoy your time outdoors before the heat would put you in a sour mood.

You sent a nervous glance at the two tents opposite you, pausing to listen if the occupants had woken up yet. Satisfied when you heard silence you pulled Jaskier’s blanket up to your chest and took a deep breath. You couldn’t hide your smile at his sweet gesture and a quiet giggle escaped your lips. You laid back down all giddy, burying your face into his blanket. It wasn’t long before you drifted back to sleep.

Jaskier emerged from his tent later that morning. Geralt had already started packing his things away, giving him a nod in acknowledgement. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out an apple and tossed it at the bard. Jaskier caught it, buffing it against his shirt before taking a bite. He wiped juice off his chin as he walked up to the witcher. Geralt raised an eyebrow at him with an amused smirk. 

“What, is there something on my face? Bad bedhead or something?” Jaskier tutted, placing one hand on his hip.

“Really, Jaskier?” Geralt responded not bothering to elaborate, but inclined his head in your direction.

“Wha-?” He faltered, “What are you talking about, Geralt? It’s too early to decipher your broody minimalism,” He swallowed thickly, fidgeting the apple in his hands.

“Thought your spoiled arse would be cold sleeping without a blanket.” Geralt shrugged, hiding a smirk. He left the bard sputtering to come up with an excuse.

Taking Geralt’s cue that he was done with the conversation for now Jaskier took another bite and sighed. He forgot about the witcher’s heightened senses and would have to be subtler in the future. He was pretty sure Geralt already took him for a fool, but he’d prefer not to fan the flames any more. His head shot up realizing that you could’ve heard their conversation, wincing at his carelessness. His shoulders slumped back down when he saw your still sleeping form. Seems like Geralt didn’t wake you on purpose. Ha ha, very funny.

He quietly padded up to you, careful not to make any sudden movements. You had his blanket snuggled right up against your face, a small smile gracing your features. Jaskier couldn’t help but grin as he felt his heart squeeze at the sight. He gently shook your shoulder and called out your name.

“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty! We’ve got quite a day ahead of us. Up and at 'em!” You squinted your eyes at Jaskier for disturbing your sleep. He laughed at your pouting and strolled away to pack his things.

You stared forward for a few moments waiting for your brain to fully wake up. Your eyes shot open wide- you still had that damn blanket pulled right up to you- and you quickly shoved it off. You winced and hoped you didn’t look too silly in your sleep. You packed your belongings as well. You certainly didn’t feel like a sleeping beauty as you smoothed your rumpled hair back down.

When you had everything stuffed back into your saddlebags and pack, you went to greet Blueberry with her morning pets. It seemed Jaskier already beat you to it- he was feeding her the remnants of his apple and running his hand through her mane. He muttered praise under his breath as he untangled knots with his fingers. You swallowed and paused to gather your thoughts before coming any closer. If he kept this up any longer you just knew you wouldn’t be able to concentrate with his hands around your waist for gods know how many hours until you arrived in Vizima. 

You slung the bags around Blueberry’s back and gave her a gentle pat, giving Jaskier a curt smile. 

“I don’t feel all that great, so you can go ahead and take the reins today,” At least that way you would be able to hide your face if you were embarrassed. “And that way I’ll have better access to my sword. You know, in case monsters or bandits or something,” You justified. You didn’t know who you were trying to convince more- you or him.

You turned on your heels and briskly walked back to your spot. You felt ashamed that you let yourself get carried away with your thoughts. Stupid girlish thoughts. You sighed as you strapped on your light armor. You were a fool to hope Jaskier was anything more than a friend. You double checked your sword- inspecting the blade before sheathing it at your hip. You restrung your shortbow and slung it over your shoulder, and secured your small quiver at your hip. Bandits often patrolled the roads close to the city. Geralt would hear anyone coming way before you, but you wanted to be prepared.

The ride in was mostly uneventful, you spent most of your time dodging Jaskier’s lute case every time he whipped his head back to say something to you. You hadn’t been fast enough the first time, and he and Geralt would not let it go, relentlessly teasing you for being bested by a damn lute. At first it was funny and you laughed along with them, but after the 8th or so close call it got old fast.

You parted ways with Geralt and Jaskier at the city gates, following your usual routine. You would check the outskirts for work for either Geralt or yourself. You often took on hunting jobs or other contracts that didn’t directly involve monsters, since that was obviously Geralt’s area of expertise. Geralt would check notice boards within the city while Jaskier would secure room and board at the best inn he could find that would let him perform. He would take care of Roach and Blueberry and by the time he was done, you and Geralt would return and discuss your findings. Dividing and conquering was your best strategy to ensure you made the most coin you possibly could. 

As you slid off of Blueberry’s back, Jaskier informed you to meet at the New Narakort Inn. It was unusual for him to be so prepared, but you shrugged it off as perks of being a bard/entertainer. It didn’t take long to find a notice board in the outskirts. Most of the papers posted were generic notices to the public- “be wary of the merchant with the red hair, don’t give yer money to a witch!” Or complaints of missing livestock- completely useless. There were two promising notes, however. One claiming that Old Farmer Ned’s goats were being slaughtered by terrible beasts. You pocketed that one for Geralt. The other asked for a good amount of venison for some nearby butcher. You tore that one off for yourself.

As you perused the board in front of you, you paid no mind to the villagers milling about. You did begin to take notice as a commotion started to your left. 3 burly men dressed in matching rags and similar tattoos surrounded a young elven girl with their weapons drawn. She clutched a covered basket close to her chest and sobbed. One man held up his blade while the other gestured for the woman to hand the goods over. You couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying, but you guessed the elven woman was begging to let her go. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach as you glanced around to see if anyone else around noticed what was happening. You frowned in disappointment. Men and women rushed past with heads down ignoring the scene, some even cheering on the men and calling out racial slurs. The first man had stepped even closer to the poor girl, his sword held against her neck as the other men jeered. You sighed and rolled your shoulders back. There was no way you could let this happen, not when you could do something about it.

In the blink of an eye your sword collided with the first man’s, pushing it away from the woman. You held an arm out to her and gestured for her to get behind you.

“You know, you shouldn’t take things that don’t belong to you. Apologize to the woman and walk away,” You threatened with a snarl. The girl ran behind you and clutched your sleeve in fear.

The other two men laughed and pointed their swords at you, the first one just rolled his eyes, “And what are you going to do about it, elf lover? You gonna stand up for this nonhuman filth? We deserve that basket. It should be ours. And once we take it, we’ll get to have our way with her. You want that too, you little shit?” He sneered.

You spat at their feet and swung your sword to disarm the man, kicking him in the groin. He crumpled to the ground as the other two stepped forward, swords swinging. You dodged one and parried the other. They circled around you into a flank position. The second man lunged at you. You stepped back and grabbed him, using his momentum to send him crashing into his buddy. The first man stood up and began to reach for his sword. You turned, smacking the butt of your hilt against the back of his head as he bent over. He collapsed back to the ground with a thud. 

The third goon shoved the second off with a grunt and came charging at you, empty handed. His fist smacked right into your chest knocking the air out of your lungs. You hunched over and gasped. The goon saw this as an opening and raised his leg to kick your face in. Your eyes trained on the ground saw his leg lift up, and you took this opportunity to sweep his legs out from under him. He fell to the ground and clawed at your leg. The other man came at you with his sword. Your blades clashed as you shook your leg in an attempt to get rid of the fool at your feet. With a strong kick of your leg, you forced your foot into the man’s face. You heard a sickening crunch and he screamed in pain. With your foot now free, you turned your attention back to the last man standing. You parried blow after blow, the man relentlessly swinging at you. He was quite sloppy, and you quickly found an opening to disarm him as well. You held your blade against his neck, drawing a bit of blood. The man trembled and raised his hands in the air in defeat. 

You spat in his face and shoved him to the ground, “You and your friends can go and fuck right off. Next time you think twice about who you’re robbing.” You drove one more kick into his stomach for good measure. 

The man scrambled to gather the other two thugs and their weapons before scampering off. They called out slurs and insults as they left but you paid them no mind. You bent over to pick up a jar that had fallen out of the woman’s basket. She had just been carrying groceries home. 

You turned around and offered the jar to her with a smile. She stared at you with wide eyes before thanking you profusely. She pulled you into a hug with a sob, choking something out about the kindness of some humans. You awkwardly patted her on the back and placed the jar back into her basket. She started to take out her coin purse insisting on payment but you just held up your hand and shook your head. There was no possible way you could ever take her coin. All you had done was step in to help a woman in need. Just doing what was right. You told the woman this and she responded with another sob. She shook your hand and hurried away with a wave.

You sheathed your sword with a sigh. The villagers avoided your gaze and went out of their way to give you a wide berth. At this point you just desperately wanted a bath, good food and drink, and some quality time spent with your friends. You went and picked up the notice you dropped by the board before you stepped in to help. All you had to do was speak to the butcher to negotiate pay and the amount of meat needed. Then you could finally head into town.

The sun was setting by the time that you made your way past the city gates into the Temple Quarter. It had taken much more time to track down and speak with the butcher, and you hoped that you had enough time for a quick soak before Jaskier’s performance. Even though you’ve heard him play countless times before, you couldn’t miss even a single performance. Seeing him lute in hand playing for so many people was simply put, a breathtaking experience. He was in his element, oozing confidence and charm as he circled the room singing his heart out. Faces in the crowd smiled and cheered along with his songs, clapping and raising their mugs in approval. Every time he would glance back at whatever table you and Geralt had chosen, your heart felt as if it was about to burst. He always looked you in the eye and winked before turning back to the crowd and each time the butterflies in your stomach went crazy. He was so happy and pure and every time without fail, he took that moment to acknowledge you. 

Even just thinking about him made your cheeks flush as you walked through the slums of the city. It was only a few more blocks until the Trade Quarter, where the New Narakort was located. You smiled as you saw the torches of guards posted at the gate over the top of the hill. You were so lost in your thoughts as you approached, that you failed to notice the shadow lurking in an alleyway nearby. It darted out as you walked by and grabbed you. A hand was clamped over your mouth before you could cry out and you were dragged back into the alley. The hand released you and you whipped your head around to identify your attacker. A strong blow to your face left you spitting up blood with a groan.

“Serves you right for helping out that disgusting nonhuman, you piece of filth!” You recognized the voice as one of the thugs from earlier.

You opened your mouth to respond, but instead a strong kick to your core knocked the words right out of you. You took blow after blow, spitting up blood when you got the chance. There were at least the same 3 men from before, but you were so disoriented you couldn’t even tell. They paused every so often to let you catch your breath and try to fight back before kicking you down to the ground again. Kick after kick after kick you struggled on the ground. There was a sharp pain in your right thigh as, what you guessed could only be, a dagger drove straight into your poor leg. You screamed out in agony and suffered another blow to the head. Each attack seemed to be growing in power as you clawed at the ground to try and escape. A sob escaped your lips as you felt the slash of another blade across your back. The men around you cheered and laughed, all taking part of the fun.

“You don’t mess with us, you elf loving whore!” The main attacker cried. With a laugh his final blow to your head had you seeing stars, and the world faded to black.

When you came to, you were alone. the moon was already high in the sky, and you couldn’t make anything out in the alley around you. You groaned in pain as you tried to sit up to assess your wounds. The dagger that was plunged deep into your thigh was still there, stopping most of the bleeding. That was good, but every time you even shifted, you cried out in pain. You had to take it out but you didn’t have any of your supplies on you, you left it all packed on Blueberry. The cut on your back scabbed up, but you probably opened it back up by moving around. Your whole face felt swollen, and you tasted blood. You were sure you looked like absolute shit.

You struggled to stand. Leaning heavily against the wall, you spat out more blood. You shuffled against the brick wall, hands clawing any groove you could grab just to pull yourself forward. You manage a couple of steps before you collapse down the ground. Fuck. You didn’t know how far you could go in the state. You let out a frustrated sob. Would Geralt and Jaskier be able to find you in time? Did they even notice you were gone? Your thoughts were racing as you heaved yourself up once more. You banged your leg against the wall and yelped- your vision going fuzzy for a moment. If you could at least drag yourself out of the alley, maybe there was a chance a guard would find you?

You heard footsteps approach and winced- were those thugs coming back for more? You looked up and saw a silhouette of a man.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.” You heard a soothing voice call out. You groaned and shifted against the bricks. “I saw what you did earlier, outside of town. You helped one of my kind. I wish to repay this kindness.” He stepped closer and slipped an arm around you, holding you up so your weight wasn’t on your injured leg. 

“Please, save your energy and don’t speak. My name is Palmar, I’m a trained healer. I’ll take you back to my house to patch you up. Do you live here?” You shook your head, “Are you here alone?” You shook your head, “We can send word to your companions once we get you safe. Is that alright?” You nodded. You then lurched forward, Palmar holding you up.

The journey to Palmar’s small house went by in a blur, the pain in your leg too strong to focus on anything else. When you arrived, he laid you down on a cot in the main room. It was small with only a fireplace, a table, your cot, and a hallway visible. Once you were propped up with pillows, Palmar lit the fireplace and several candles throughout the room to provide light. You finally got a good look at your savior. He was tall and scrawny, dressed in a simple shirt and pants. He looked young, maybe 30 years you guessed. The top of his auburn hair was pulled into a bun while the rest hung down to his shoulder. He caught your gaze and smiled, warm brown eyes filled with warmth.

“I assure you, I have treated many wounds like this. You are in good hands. I told you my name, but I’m afraid I didn’t catch yours,” He strode around the room, gathering various vials and bandages.

“(Y/n). I travelled here with a witcher and a bard- Geralt of Rivia and Jaskier. I was supposed to meet them at the New Narakort.” Your voice was raspy and strained.

“The New Narakort? A fine establishment. I’ve heard their stew is to die for,” He smiled again, undoing the straps of your armor and weapons. “I’m afraid this is going to hurt. Like a bitch,” He chuckled “I’m going to pull the knife out on the count of three, alright? Ready? One, two-” you braced yourself for the pain, crying out as he yanked the dagger out early. Palmar quickly cleaned out the wound. With the knife gone, he helped you strip down to your smalls. He cleaned and dressed the rest of your wounds, muttering words of encouragement as he went. As the pain finally began to lessen, you felt your eyelids droop with exhaustion. Palmar let out a small chuckle.

“It’s alright, my friend. You can rest. I will go fetch your friends while you sleep.” You furrowed your brow at him, not understanding why he was being so kind.

“I don’t understand, why are you helping me?” You forced your eyes open. You didn’t want to fall asleep without knowing the answer. Palmar helped you back into your shirt and lay comfortably on the cot.

“As I said before, I saw what you did for that poor woman outside of town. You stood up to those humans. No other human would’ve stepped in like you did. I am grateful. I was walking home when I saw those awful humans leave the alley and my gut told me to check it before I continued home- and I found you.” You sighed, happy with his answer for now. You couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer so you snuggled closer to the blankets. As Palmar stood to leave he whispered, “My daughter was killed by that very same gang. The one you stood up against. This was the very least I could do to help.” You slipped into a dreamless sleep.

You felt a clammy hand grab yours, and another shake you awake. You opened your eyes to a bright blue pair looking down at you in worry. Jaskier. 

“Oh, thank the gods. Geralt, they’re awake! Oh (y/n), you have no idea how worried I was for you! We waited at the inn and when it got dark and you still hadn’t shown, well Geralt said not to worry, but I just knew something wasn’t right! You’ve never missed any of my performances. I couldn’t let you break your streak, so I waited for you. And waited, and waited. Then this lovely man showed up and- gods! I’m just glad you’re alright,” Jaskier rambled, squeezing your hand tighter and tighter with each word.

“Jaskier, I’m okay.” You squeezed his hand back with a smile. 

“Blueberry is waiting outside. We’ll take you back to the inn.” Geralt said as he gathered your things and carried them outside.

Jaskier said something to Palmar in Elder as he helped you out of bed, which he responded in kind. You made a mental note to ask Jaskier about it later. They exchanged a few more words, and soon they had you out of the door and on Blueberry’s back. Palmar shook your hand one last smile and thanks before you were on your way. Geralt lead Blueberry by the reins while Jaskier walked beside you, his hand coming up to nervously rub you calf. On your uninjured side, of course. 

Your friends slowly lead you through the streets of Vizima, right to the New Narakort. Jaskier helped you inside and to your room while Geralt took care of Blueberry. Jaskier fussed over you, helping you wash your hair and settling you into bed, fluffing every pillow in the process. He bid you goodnight with a squeeze of your hand and blew out the candles, but he hesitated at the door. 

“Jaskier? What’s wrong?” You asked, voice laced with worry.

“You could’ve died. They left you in that alley to die and I could have lost you,” Jaskier choked out.

“Julian. It’s alright. I’m alright. I’m safe now. Don’t worry.” He snapped his head up when you called out his real name.

“(Y/n), I always worry. Every time you go out with Geralt on a hunt, or when you pick up odd jobs around towns. I worry. I’m always going to worry about you, because you’re my friend. Actually- hang on a minute. I’ll be just a moment!” He rushed out the room in a flash. Your heart ached at his words. You’re my friend. Just a friend. A bittersweet smile escaped your lips. It was obvious just how much the bard cared for you, but it still wasn’t enough. You sighed, swallowing back tears and waited for him to come back.

Jaskier was true to his word- he was only gone for two minutes at most. He burst back into the room, out of breath with his lute in hand.

“(Y/n), the reason I couldn’t have you miss my performance is because of my new song. Remember? I’ve finally finished it, and I couldn’t have you miss it, because…” he faltered, hands wringing nervously, “I wrote it for you.” You looked at him in surprise as he held the lute up and began to play. The melody was beautiful. It was somewhat familiar as you had tried to eavesdrop whenever you could in camp, but you had never heard the words before. He sang about a fierce warrior with (h/c) hair shining in the sun as they defeated their foes, their bravery and kindness unmatched. The beauty of their laugh and smile was enough to turn the heads of everyone as they walked into the room. Their love of the stars in the night sky, 'each time I look at them, they take my breath away’. He was quoting you, in a song he wrote for you. No, wrote about you. He wrote this song about you. Tears sprang up in your eyes as you came to this realization. Jaskier’s fingers slipped as he saw your reaction.

“I-it’s horrible isn’t it. I figured. I should’ve waited a bit longer- practiced it more.” He groaned, running his hand down his face. “(Y/n), I’m sorry. Obviously I need to work on this one a bit more but.. you have to understand that you almost died. I wrote this song and you almost died. I had to play it for you before I would lose the chance because… because (y/n). I love you.” His piercing blue eyes were filled with hope as he looked into yours.

“Julian- I love it. It’s beautiful and I love the song and I love you too,” your words were all rushed together- you couldn’t get them out fast enough.

Jaskier launched himself at you, careful of your wounds, and embraced you tight. You breathed in his familiar scent. 

“So since you love me back, does that mean I get to kiss you?” He asked with a smirk, legs straddling your own.

“Oh come here, you,” you laughed. Your hands grasped the sides of his face and pulled him close. You could feel his hot breath against your lips as he hesitated, before he pressed his lips against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut in content. If this is what it took to finally be with your favorite bard, you’d do it a hundred times over. Now you could finally call Jaskier your own.

[purple-saladleaves]

5, 7, and 11 from the commander asks! :) -kerra-and-company

thanks for the ask!! :) ooh boy these ones were difficult to answer. HoT spoilers under the cut for anyone seeing this who hasn't finished it yet

5. Which death caused your commander the most grief?

I honestly can't decide between Trahearne and Efalynn's sister Rhiannwen for this one.

with Trahearne, his death was the terrible cherry on the top of the emotionally harrowing cake of awful that was Maguuma. (does that metaphor even make sense lmao). he was clearly suffering, and the fact that Efalynn had to do it herself made it even worse. Trahearne was a mentor to her, and eventually an older brother. she misses him a lot. she doesn't regret doing it, she knows it was the right choice, but she regrets that it was ever necessary.

with Rhiannwen, it was a lot more personal. Trahearne may have become an older brother, but Rhiannwen was her twin. they shared their Dream, and being without her was like losing half of herself. Rhi was really young too, they were both only a few months old when she died. on top of that, Rhiannwen's death was the first that Efalynn truly blamed herself for; Rhi took the place of Apatia (during the Blue Orb questline at lv70), and Efy is convinced she could have saved her from the krait somehow. but at the same time, Rhiannwen,,,,,,,didn't technically die. she's not the same person she used to be (in body or personality), but there's hope yet. except that doesn't change the fact that Rhi did actually physically die, that Efy saw her body, and that Efalynn had to grieve her for a long time.

both of their deaths caused her a lot of pain, and I don't think it would be fair to rank one over the other when the circumstances were so different

6. How does your commander feel towards their position of power?

I talked a little about how Efalynn feels about it here (q16). by the end of PoF, she's exhausted, struggling with memory loss alongside everything else, and just generally resentful of the job. and she's trapped in it, for reasons I explained in the linked post above. she desperately wants to rest, but she just Can't.

Efy is still an optimist at heart though, and she tries really hard to see the silver linings in her job. for one, it really makes her happy that she gets to help people. even on a smaller level, like with the renown hearts or events, being able to see the positive impact she makes on the world can sometimes make all the struggle and loss feel worth it. plus, Efalynn gets to travel to parts of Tyria that she might have never seen otherwise, and though she'll always be more at home in a library than out in the field, she does enjoy visiting new places she can show off to Ffoirre. and speaking of him, where else would Efalynn have met her best friend? there's also Dragon's Watch, even if her relationship with them is regrettably tense at the moment. while she wishes she could have become friends with these people in better times without the weight of the world on their shoulders, Efalynn is very grateful that she knows them, and all of them mean a lot to her.

11. What is the proudest moment your commander has experienced?

I think probably the walk back into Fort Trinity after killing Zhaitan. this is partly on a personal level as well as a character level, because that was the first time I ever finished the personal story. yeah the final battle may have been a little underwhelming, but honestly I really enjoyed it! I think it conveyed that we were fighting against a whole army really well, and tbh I'm not sure how we were supposed to physically take down an entire dragon like that thing was Ridiculously Huge. but yeah, doing a slow walk through Fort Trinity with my friends after that final fight while everyone cheers and applauds? that felt awesome. and if I wasn't hooked on the game already, that moment completely got me.

for Efalynn, it was the biggest success that she was properly able to enjoy. yes, there were more threats on the horizon, but compare the endings of the personal story and HoT. they couldn't feel more different. (side note: recently I played those one after the other and yeah oof that is emotional whiplash right there). everything after that was,,,,, bittersweet at best.

[anaisonfire]

2, 3, 7, 8, 11, 12, 13, 14, 19, 24, 31 for the cyberpunk asks

HA u didn’t specify who so i get to answer some of these twice! (thank you bb 💖)

2. 3 facts about your V/OC?

Vegas: his favorite color is yellow (see: vest, car, guitar), he’s a rockerboy turned permanent mercenary (was lead guitarist in City of Death [name pending changes], but there was Drama™ and he skipped town to Atlanta), his hatred for corps comes from the fact his mom died when she was fired from her job (and this is also why he has some sympathy for corpos; not a lot tho)

Vincent: met jackie when he was an older teenager, went to work for arasaka when he was 19 (jackie called him an idiot), slept with jenkins a couple years after that to get high up the ladder faster (he’s 31/32 when the game begins, so he was in counterintel for about ten-ish years)

3. In what ways do you see yourself in your V/OC?

oh this is a hard one haha

...can i say the lowkey narcissism or is that too dramatic 😂😂

tbh i’m not quite sure, but i guess one thing that i super vibe with (and is the reason i’m so into johnny & kerry as opposed to the other LIs/characters) that i keep making all my OCs have (unless i deliberately Don’t) is their drive for acknowledgement? like, it manifests as an I’m Gonna Be The King Of This City Or So Help Me God thing, but it’s ultimately a cry to Be Seen and Recognized for what you are (and what you are is awesome).

7. How many times have you either completed or restarted the game?

i’ve completed it  *drumroll please* ZERO TIMES 😂😂😂 for real, i’m horrible about finishing things

as for restarting... let’s see... currently have 7 Vs, vincent’s on his 3rd version, plus my first ever game that didn’t get farther than dex... add about 5 Vs that i stared but never got anywhere with and deleted for reasons.... makes it about 15 times, so, yeah something around there! :D

8. If you could have anyone as a companion in 2077, who would it be?

Besides Johnny? :D

i think it’d be pretty cool to have either kerry or panam going around town with you

11. Are there any characters you genuinely can’t stand? Why?

Not really. There’s a couple of things I dislike about some character stories (River, my dear... I’m so sorry CDPR are cowards and did you dirty like this) but on the whole I like all characters.

Even with 'villains’, like Smasher or Saburo, they’re there more for plot than as actual characters so I’m indifferent to them.

12. Favourite location in Night City?

There’s this really cool statue in the market in Kabuki (I think? The place with the glass ceiling)

Here’s a pic I took of it a while back.

Also in general any place where you can see the the lights of the city

13. Favourite type of vehicle?

I like both various cars and bikes, hah. Mostly I tend to go with whatever fits the V, but I admit I’m partial to the Yaiba Kusanagi as well as the Herrera Outlaw (handling AND looks) and the Caliburn (cool factor).

14. Favourite weapon?

Archangel! Johnny’s gun! Uhhh what other are there 😂 oh yeah, and Overwatch! Love that gun, it’s so OP 👌😂

19. What’s a mission or side gig you hated?

Oh jeez what do I hate - I think the Welcome to America, Comrade gig is the one I was most frustrated when I did it the first time. I had to reload so. many. times!

From the main story, I caNNOT deal with the braindance tutorial - I love Judy, but we really need a ‘skip tutorial’ option there @ Cdpr

24. Who’s a character you wish you could’ve saved or seen more of?

KERRY, Alt, Thompson, Santiago, I wanted more of Rogue’s story and what she’s been doing these 50 years besides being a badass (there were implications being made on the Ebunike okay, TELL ME)

(I think we’ll get more backstory, from Johnny’s point of view maybe, at some point, so I’m willing to wait. But I want details ok)

Also I am 1000% sure there was supposed to be another quest after I Fought The Law that in any way, shape or form dealt with the fact that River’s partner covered up the mayor’s murder. I choose to believe they ran out of time so that’s why we only had that one line about it when you talk to River after his questline is over. (If I’m wrong: CDPR are cowards. Follow through on the storyline you made dammit)

KERRY AGAIN sorry but you CANNOT introduce a 50-years-and-still-going-strong, God of Rock type of character and NOT give us a concert. An album. MORE MUSIC IS WHAT I’M SAYING let Kerry and V live the bodyguard AU lmao

31. What’s a mod you’d like to see (even to be funny)?

Hmmmm I’m really not sure actually 🤔 There’ve been a lot of really cool mods and most of the time I tend to go ‘ohhhh here’s a thing I didn’t know I needed in my life’ 😂 (case in point: Johnny with earrings, changing the decor of V’s apartment, swapping V with NPCs, etc)

Thank you so much for the ask!! Also I’m always down to ramble about my Vs, either on here or on @the-major-leagues so feel free to send asks @ everyone!! 💖

[faelune-home]

A Blade of Fallen Petals

(A/N: Sometimes it’s the major story NPCs, and sometimes its the smaller ones. They were only around for so long, but their death still hits like a brick. ;-;

That’s Wilred here. A little story about missing him, and coping with that. I used Lyse as a bouncing off NPC for miqo!Fu partly due to location (since the mini questline that acknowledges him and gives him a resting place in Stormblood goes into the Lochs) but also I find Lyse an interesting character to discuss death, just because for as much as its not presented in game, she’s lost a lot. She’s probably quite familiar with it.

I want to write more of these NPC remembrance stories, and I’ve already done a few prior - one for Minfilia, and two as part of FFXIV Write 2020, both actually featuring Lyse incidentally - but I’d like to do more.

Didn’t do too much editing after I finished writing, so apologies for any iffy errors.

@ffxiv-writers)

Cracking bones pierced the air as Lyse stretched, finally freed from the stuffiness of the castle meeting room. It felt like she’d been up and moving and chatting since dawn had broken, but she could rest at last. Spying the sun in the sky, seeing it just hovering above the walls of the Quarter, she let out a breath of relief. It would be nearing meal time, and she was starving. And she’d have to consider collecting a plate for Fordola as well…

“Well well, if it ain’t Lyse? I figured you’d be busy till sundown,” a voice called, snapping the woman from her thoughts. Gundobald approached with a wave, an affable smile on his face, which she gladly returned.

“It’s getting close enough though, isn’t it? So technically I have been,” she countered, nodding in the direction of the lowering star. “But it’s good to see you, especially after so long.”

“Likewise, lass, likewise. And it's good to be back in Ala Mhigo, even if it's only for a day,” the elder man hummed contentedly, looking around the city with pride in his eyes. Lyse couldn’t help but smile at his reaction.

“Right, you said you’d stay behind for those that couldn’t make the trip,” she mused, remembering the arrangement one of her soldiers - his own nephew - had made to transport the Ala Mhigans home, “So what brings you all the way here then? Just seeing the sights? Taking back stories for the older folk back in Thanalan?”

Gundobald tilted his head. “Aye, I suppose I could do that for them. Rhalgr knows even in their last few days, everyone back in Little Ala Mhigo gains a bit of new life being reminded that their home is free now.” Then he shook his head. “But that wasn’t the main reason I came. It was to pay some respects to some old comrades. The ones that couldn’t be here even to hear the news.”

Lyse lowered her head upon hearing this. “I see. I did learn about the old mercenary monument up north. Probably still fitting for everyone else that uh...passed beyond these lands.” Looking back at him, she asked, “So you’re returning home now? Would you like an escort?”

“Nah, I’m not so enfeebled I can’t handle myself on the return trip,” the highlander shook his head, though there was a friendly glint in his eye as he said it, “Better to keep your men here where they’re needed more, Commander. But if you want, you could send someone to go check on the Scions’ Warrior girl by the monument.”

At this, the woman perked up. “Fufu is here? There, I mean?”

“Aye, I figured you would’ve known, that she would’ve told you. She was up there before I arrived, and she’s still there now.” Lyse shook her head, surprise still colouring her features. Gundobald frowned, but he didn’t sound worried when he added, “Well, I’ll let you look into that on your own. Suppose you’ve been so busy you could do with a catch up with your friend. I’ll get started on my way back.”

He waved, wandering off down the cobbled streets, leaving a pondering Lyse to her thoughts.

~*~*~

The woman didn’t wait long before making the decision to venture to the old tomb, leaving behind an order to deliver food to the resistance’s prisoner should Lyse not return in time to do it herself. A bread roll haphazardly stuffed in her own month would do her until then.

The sky was turning a shade of purple by the time she reached the monument, the clouds painted orange and pink in the fading sunlight. A sole figure sat on the quickly chilling stone in front of the pillar, the only other source of light coming from a small lantern mounted on the saddle of a sleeping chocobo nearby.

“Hey,” Lyse called out, making the miqo’te jump and spin around. A hand hovered over the chakram by her waist, however Fufu quickly relaxed at the sight of her old friend. Her flickering tail settled.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Fufu said as Lyse joined her. The hyur gave the Scion a friendly nudge, lightly scolding her by saying, “Of course you weren’t, ‘cos you never even told me you were here.”

The miqo’te winced, a sheepish smile on her face. “I’m sorry. In my defense I did show up at the palace gates, and I thought about it, but everyone said you were busy pretty much all day. They offered to take a message, but I didn’t want to interrupt or make you take time out if you were doing important stuff.”

“You’re never interrupting,” Lyse chucked, “I’ll always be happy to make time for you or the other Scions if I can. If anything,” she groaned, rolling her shoulder, both girls wincing at the loud crack it let out, “I’d appreciate having an excuse to take a break.”

Fufu nodded. “Alright then, noted.” Both women fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the quiet as night fell, the sounds of the salt waves lapping at the shore behind them, and Fufu’s noble bird snoring softly next to them, the lantern swinging gently on its hook with each breath the chocobo took. Their faint shadows shifted ever so slightly against the stone structure.

“Who are you here for?” Lyse finally asked, the question having been sitting on her tongue since she’d arrived. Fufu didn’t answer immediately, but Lyse didn’t expect her to. In the meantime she added, “I met Gundobald in the Quarter, he said he came here with you. Or more like you arranged to meet here, I suppose, he said you were already here when he arrived from Little Ala Mhigo.”

Fufu’s tail twitched, managing to brush against the hyuran’s arm.

“Someone I knew once.” Was all she said.

“Did I know them?”

“...Kinda.”

They sat again, Lyse willing to wait for her friend to talk, or even if she didn’t at all. But after a moment, Fufu took in a breath.

“You remember one of the first reports I wrote on my own? For one of my first missions without another Scion watching me.” With a sly smile and a side eye toward her friend, she added, “After the whole thing with the sylphs.”

Lyse inadvertently spluttered as she burst out laughing. “Oh gods! I remember that! Your penmanship was awful, and it was so plain!” 

Lyse was already near falling to the floor from hysterics, however the miqo’te shoved the other woman over with an exaggerated pout all the same, though unable to hide the amusement in her voice as she argued, “Excuse you, I’d never done much writing before then, never mind for a fancy mission report. And what am I supposed to even put in one? ‘Went to Little Ala Mhigo, nobody liked me, I had to save some kids from the amalj’aa’? And it's not like you or Papalymo or anybody else was around to help me write it.”

“I kno- gods,” the hyuran gasped, finally trying to bring her laughter to an end. Given their location, things were sure to take a turn, even if Fufu had started the moment of levity. Indeed the woman in question had turned sombre once more. Lyse coughed, trying to stem her chuckles. “Alright, I’m done.” 

Another breath out to calm herself, then Lyse said, “I mean, really, it was plain, but that’s fine. It did the job it was meant to do - say what happened, what you did - and you were still new to it all. And teaching you wouldn’t have helped, you probably don’t need to write those anymore. So nothing to dwell on anymore. Right?” Fufu shot her a grateful look. Then she looked up at the stone beacon in front of them.

“Well, one of those kids involved in that whole thing, he’s here now.” Lyse flinched, eyes glancing up at the tomb.

“The one that didn’t die in the amalj’aa attack...but he died later as a Brave,” Fufu said, her face eerily straight, yet her eyes already beginning to water. Lyse herself found her eyes drifting to the foggy horizon, a faint memory of a bright eyed, hopeful looking young man dressed in blue coming to mind.

“His name was Wilred,” the miqo’te added without prompt, “And he meant every word of the Braves’ original creed.”

She shook her head, letting out a shaky breath. “I know a few of the folk that believed in what the Braves were meant to be still stuck with the Scions after that whole mess, but Godsdammit, I wish he could’ve been there as well. He just disappeared one day and then h-he was...he’d been left to rot in Urth’s Fount! He d-didn’t deserve that, h-he…”

Her words caught in her throat, and despite pressing her hands against her eyes to stem the oncoming flood, a sob broke from the warrior. Without hesitation, Lyse pulled the miqo’te into her shoulder, letting her friend weep freely. Fufu’s chocobo nearby stirred, letting out a small chirp at the sound of its mistress’ crying. A glance from the monk let the bird settle again, although the tenseness in its haunches betrayed its worry.

“He should’ve been here, I know,” Lyse mumbled gently, rocking to try and calm the other woman. She bit her lip, trying to think of what she could say to soothe her friend, but coming up short. She didn’t know the boy that well, only recognising him as a passing face in the Rising Stones...and one that eventually stopped showing up.

“It’s more than that,” Fufu hiccuped, lifting her head. Her eyes were already red raw. “He started out so angry and desperate, desperate enough for the ascians to notice him and his friends and...and he was the only one to make it out alive. And that changed him, and he wanted to do good after that. And the Braves were supposed to be his second chance to do that and-- By the Twelve, Lyse, he was younger than us.” Her voice cracked, and Lyse winced.

Still, the woman leaned her head forward against the other’s in a reassuring gesture. Fufu sniffed.

“I know I can’t go back and change things. I can wish and hope and say what I could’ve done instead - and I wish I’d watched him more now, I wish I’d taken Riol worries to heart, and I wish we’d never crossed paths with Ilberd, that I had cut him down where he stood if I knew then what I do now - but I know that won’t change anything about what happened before.” She let out a heavy sigh after her rant, finally seeming to calm. “I wish for a lot of things Lyse.”

“Me too.”

“I wish he had a chance.”

“I know. I wish all the time that Papalymo was still here to help me. He’d keep the resistance in line better than I could.” At that, the keeper chuckled.

Another sniff. “It’s moments like this...losing people I feel like I could’ve saved, it makes me try harder. So I don’t have to lose anyone else. So normal people can have a chance after hardship.”

“For those we have lost?” Lyse said, a small smile on her lips. Fufu smiled back, nodding.

“I wish they didn’t have to die, but I won’t let their deaths be in vain. But...but I guess it all feels like so much sometimes. And I need to be alone to deal with it. I know I could stay with the other Scions and they wouldn’t judge me for it, but just every now and then...” She trailed off.

“I get that,” the hyuran chuckled, ruffling Fufu’s hair, “And that’s fine, good even. It shows that you care. That the whole Warrior of Light title isn’t just for show. Better that than coming across like some soulless killing machine.” 

“I’m proud of what I do, since I can help so many people, but sometimes it can feel like a weight,” Fufu pouted. 

Lyse sighed. “I know the feeling.”

The highlander stood, her knees cracking, offering a hand to Fufu as well. The chocobo finally woke after a whistle from its rider, stumbling to its feet.

“We’ll go back to the Quarter together, and you can spend the night with me. I can send a soldier or call Tataru’s linkshell to let the Scions know,” Lyse suggested. Too worn down by her emotional outburst to argue, Fufu nodded, the idea sounding appealing at that.

“And in future,” the woman continued, “if you come here again, I insist you let me know. I won’t let you sit here on your own. This sort of thing is better with a little support, isn’t it?”

Fufu looked up at the stars above, the shimmering dots reflecting in her wide watery eyes. She smiled, looking back at her friend.

“I’d appreciate that.”

[astroellipse]

writing *ranting about ffxiv while I wait for a queue to pop

I was so sad man... I’m just trying to do the Hildebrand questline- it popped in the middle of writing that oh my god.

What I was going to say is that I thought this queue for the quest line’s third trial was going to be 15 minutes like the last two but saw it was instead “more than 30 minutes”, and given the last time I queued for a trial that said that it took two hours, I was a little concerned. To my surprise it popped initially just seven minutes in... until someone backed out. Then I started writing this. Then it popped, I waited half a minute, and someone withdrew again. And a third time immediately after. On the fourth time I actually got in. That was ridiculous. I’ll still continue writing though, since finishing the first Hildibrand saga is a good breaking point.

That was, to be expected, hilarious. A lot of it, anyhow. Some of it just sort of hurt. The funniest moment wasn’t even during the questline, it was during the first trial with Gilgamesh. Both me and the bard were inflicted with confusion and just started blasting each other. Him knocking arrows and all but stabbing them into my forehead, and me casting ruin directly into his eyes at point blank range. That and the getting turned into a frog and getting chased by chickens. Literally nothing can top that encounter for me.

I straight up did not care about the mystery/plot the majority of the time, but I guess I should expect by now that I’ll always enjoy the characters more than whatever mediocre plot they’re tangled in. Just. The Coliseum quests specifically mostly pissed me off. The pervy tentacle monster. The needless racism. The whole thing with painting a poor person wanting to find an easy way to not be poor as undeniably evil which the game KEEPS doing makes me so fucking mad, in combination with stewing about these other themes in JRPGs especially with being all “boo-hoo, won’t anyone thing about how hard it is being rich and noble, all the responsibility, how dare these dirty poors even think about getting revenge on the very people that keep them down.

Why aren’t they just happy with what they do have? They should just put in more work if they want to eat a warm meal, even though we’ve already established there’s no work to be had. Like jesus christ I’d swear some of the shit in this game and others was being written by some 17 year old medieval lordling with too much free time between tutoring sessions. What is these peoples’ obsessions with nobility? Like I get it makes for good fantasy content but have at least a little bit of self consciousness.

I feel like I always see these games acknowledge some kind of class structure and how it negatively effects those in its lowest rungs then shrug it off as “there’s nothing anyone can do about it” and paint the impoverished as villains for being upset with the people that do have the power to change it. Sort of a tangent but this specifically is why I despised and kind of relationship between Dorothea and Ferdinand in Three Houses. She calls him out and rightfully so in the first support, then he makes a batch of pastries completely from scratch one time and this apparently makes her think that all nobles aren’t so bad? Going from straight up not wanting nobles to exist to thinking hey, they’re people too :). I hate that. I hated that FE3H characters were mostly nobles or come from notable/rich families or whatever.

Similarly I hate that FFXIV has such a huge focus on the upper crust and just completely discards and lower-class person. Like, there was a mission where I had to check on some scared refugees and they attacked me in self defense and it made me kill them? And I reported back to the guy who asked me to check on them and he just went “Ah well, what can you do.” Like what the fuck is wrong with these writers sometimes???

I was about to say this was more of an issue with ARR but remembered how the people of the Brume were treated in HW, like a mob of bumbling idiots in desperate need of guidance. What drove me insane the most on that front was when the people were on the brink of revolt after that one girl basically martyred herself, and to remedy this Aymeric decided his order and the grand companies would have their little sparring mach, because nothing sparks patriotism more like sports. Even though this left the city with significantly less protection. And that it was held in an area where not a single citizen could see it. Also, the group the people were supposed to be rooting for was the order of knights and their lapdogs (Hilda’s group) which. just. none of it made sense. It was stupid. This kinda shit makes me afraid to eventually get to Stormblood and into the thick of the Ala Mhigo stuff which they have handled TERRIBLY so far like it boils my blood to think about it. This game is so racist it’s unreal.

but. god. I was talking about the Hildibrand questline. The bit on Costa del Sol was probably the closest I came to caring about the plot, plus it had some pretty good bits. Wasn’t a fan of the big “man in a dress” at the end, though it did make me think that men should be allowed to wear dresses in this game like it would’ve looked fine without the goofy hair and makeup :/ And I completely checked out on whatever that last bit of story was no I do not care that that one girl we’ve been traveling with was the thief all along I have never liked her. Also she played into that class issue I just ranted about. The reveal of her sister was also cheap and stupid. The elezen inspector professing his love for her was also weird? My first thought during that was “jesus christ man she was trying to commit mass mur-” and then I remembered that I/my WoL was crushing on Ysale before she got axed which comes in at #2 for funniest moment in this questline. Him doing that still came out of nowhere save one or two short scenes in separate quests to me.

But I’m exhausted of this now. I might go and start the next saga but I’ll probably go to sleep early... if anything has made me rethink playing past the free trial it’s the shit above but I’ll be honest I am pretty darn likely to cave. I can only hope the writers sorted at least some of their shit out between expansions.

[todisturbtheuniverse]

FIC: Set All Trappings Aside [6/8]

Rating: T Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Pairing: f!Adaar/Josephine Montilyet Tags: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Class Differences Word Count: 3800 (this chapter) Summary: After months of flirtation, a contract on Josephine’s life brings Adaar’s feelings for her closer to the surface than ever. It highlights, too, all of their differences, all of the reasons a relationship between them would not last. But Adaar is a hopeful woman at heart; if Josephine can set all trappings aside, then so can she. Also on AO3. Notes: While the context for this story is the Of Somewhat Fallen Fortune questline, some of the conversations within it didn’t quite fit for this Inquisitor. The resulting fic is a twist on the canon romance. This Adaar and Josephine have featured in other fics, so you may miss a little context if you haven’t read Promising or Truth-Telling, which both come before this one.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

"My company is not going to help you get out that door without Adaar, Lady Montilyet."

Josephine sagged back against Cassandra's door. It took a great deal of self-control to keep a scowl from her face. Cassandra hadn't even looked up from her book; in fact, her eyes were still scanning the page, the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth, as if whatever she was reading amused her.

"Surely your protection is equal to hers," Josephine tried, though she had a sinking feeling that this was already a lost cause. "Superior, some would argue."

Cassandra did shut the book now, one finger between the pages to hold her place. She looked up at Josephine with slightly narrowed eyes. "You have been trying to get out of this inn without her for the last three days. What is so important that she can't shadow you?"

Josephine considered her options. She thought the likelihood that Cassandra would repeat this conversation to Adaar was low; she also thought that she was more likely to gain some kind of assistance if she was honest.

And she needed the assistance. Cassandra was right. She had been trying, ever since Adaar's meeting with Minister Bellise, to escape the inn they'd rented for the duration of their stay here. She'd walked the streets of Val Royeaux plenty. She just hadn't managed to do it without Adaar.

She gestured to the empty chair at the room's rough hewn desk. "May I sit?"

Cassandra tilted her head to the side, eyes slightly narrowed, and nodded.

Josephine sat. "I had a gift made for Her—for her. The Inquisitor." She didn't think Cassandra had noticed the slip, but she pressed quickly onward regardless. "For helping me with this…mess. I need to visit the shop here to pick it up, but the surprise would be somewhat ruined if she was looming over my shoulder while I did that."

"Oh. I see. That is...thoughtful of you." Cassandra looked like she might say something else, but she shook her head instead. "Still, I stand by what I said. She will want to come along. It puts her mind at ease."

"Yes, I know. Believe me, I am not trying to make her uneasy. I only want to be able to thank her, but I fear that as soon as we receive word that the contract has been nullified, and I'm able to move freely again, she'll…"

She didn't need to finish the sentence; she could see in Cassandra's face, which was not exactly given to deception, that she knew exactly what Adaar planned to do as soon as this was over. Josephine wished that she—that someone, anyone—could convince Adaar otherwise. She sat at that table downstairs where she could see the entrances and exits from sunrise to sunset, and probably earlier and later, too. She looked more worn by the day, not prepared for another long ride and conflict waiting at the end of it.

"Will this merchant only release the gift to you, or would a proxy be able to collect it?"

"I suppose a proxy could." Josephine mulled this over, tapping a finger to her lips. "But it would be hard to pull any of our guards away from their duties. The Inquisitor would surely question—"

"A guard, yes," Cassandra said. "But not me." She snorted. "She'll think I went in search of another book, probably. I have not heard the end of this business from her." She tapped one finger on the cover of the book lying on the bed.

"You would…" Josephine's heart lifted. "Really? Cassandra, I would be so grateful."

"Consider it done. She has been very unpleasant to travel with recently. I did not realize how much I liked her jokes and stories until she became so...moody." Cassandra made a disgruntled face. "Hopefully this gift of yours will help return her to her usual self."

"I hope so, too." Among other things, Josephine thought. "I'll write something to the merchant, to explain. Laurine Boudet; she's on the Artists' Street."

Cassandra opened her book up again. "And I will go as soon as I've finished this chapter."

"Take your time." Josephine stood, feeling a hundred times lighter. "Thank you, Cassandra."

Cassandra only nodded, her eyes already traveling quickly across the page once more, and Josephine let herself out.

From here, at the railing that looked down into the lower level of the inn, she saw that Adaar still sat at that table. There was an untouched mug of ale at one corner, holding down one of the pieces of vellum strewn across the surface. She rested her chin on one hand, dark eyes downcast—maybe reading some of the reports Josephine had composed for her on the shaky political state of Orlais, or maybe trying, desperately, to stay awake. Once in a while, she stirred enough to look from one doorway to the next, then went back to her work.

Well, that was Josephine's next task. Once Cassandra was safely away, Josephine would lead Adaar in the opposite direction. Since she refused to rest, this was the only way that Josephine could convince her to step away from her post—well, after a fashion. It was more that her post moved, so she followed it. Josephine made sure to lead them only to shops where the entrances were few, and obvious, where Adaar did not need to have eyes in the back of her head to keep careful watch.

Josephine returned briefly to her room to dash off a note to Madame Laurine. She dripped wax on the folded paper, pressed her signet ring to it, and then left it with Cassandra, who waved away her thanks and went downstairs. She and Adaar exchanged a few brief words, but true to Cassandra's guess, Adaar had no issues with her wandering off on her own.

Josephine waited a few more minutes, watching from the railing. Adaar shuffled a few pieces of paper. Her hand rested on her mug, briefly, but she didn't drink. She tugged thoughtfully on the end of her braid, tied with a piece of simple leather cord. Small wisps of her hair—dark, but with a peculiar gray cast that gave it an interesting depth—had pulled free of the plait.

Josephine's heart ached for her. Ached for her weariness, yes, wanted to smooth away the furrows that drew her brows together, but also ached just for her. They hadn't spoken again of their relationship; every time they came close, Adaar found a way to steer them around. Still thinking, still weighing. Josephine, true to her word, had held her tongue.

It was hard, when new arguments occurred to her every day—every hour, it seemed sometimes.

But she had to be patient. Adaar's concerns were not without foundation. She had the measure of the world; she saw it clearly. There were people who would look at them askance: people Josephine knew in Antiva who would think that the level-headed Montilyet girl had fallen to flights of romantic fancy, as was inevitable, given her father's artistic spirit; people who saw Adaar as a tool instead of a person, and so would wonder how Josephine planned to use her; people who were too ignorant to learn the distinction between Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth and Qunari, who would think Josephine had become a puppet of the Qun. There had been whispers of that from the beginning, suggestions that the whole of the Inquisition was under the sway of some foreign power.

And Adaar had never cared about any of that before. Well, Josephine was sure that she cared; she just was very good at appearing as if she was above it all. Josephine had seen her keep a politely bland look on her face even while people stared at her, gawped at her, whispered behind their hands about her; even while visiting delegations to Haven and Skyhold had done their best to pretend that she wasn't in the room; even when their closest allies had treated her warily, had questioned her intentions. I've had thirty years to get used to those kinds of looks, she'd told Josephine once. I will survive.

It had eaten away at her while she survived it, though. How could it not? She enjoyed the friendship and respect she'd gained, but worried—understandably—that it could be taken from her, swept away as if it had never existed in the first place. As if she didn't have the right to it. As if she wasn't deserving.

Josephine would prove her wrong, given the opportunity. She'd dress her in a gown beautiful enough to complement, if not quite match, Adaar's own beauty. Drape her in some of the glittering jewelry Adaar had spoken of so flippantly, even if the look in her eyes had spoken of an emotion more like old, hopeful longing. Weave bright, lovely flowers through her long, lovely hair. Present her to the people Josephine knew would appreciate her, starting with her own family. Her brothers would admire Adaar's habit of hard work even as they sometimes shirked their own duties; Yvette would hang on all of Adaar's exaggerated stories, a perfect audience; her mother would meet Adaar's dry humor word for word, and her father would look on it all with an indulgent smile, as long as Josephine was happy.

And their friends, their closest social circle...no matter how gauche, those people attended the salons Papa put on himself; they were indulgent of Yvette's many harebrained interruptions. They might blink in surprise at their first sight of Adaar, but by the end of an evening, they would adore her. Not as much as Josephine adored her—that was impossible—but enough.

There were plenty of cruelties in this world, but Josephine would find some way to shield Adaar from them, to the best of her ability. If only Adaar would let her try.

She shook herself from her scheming and made for the stairs. In the meantime, she would do what she could to soothe Adaar's uneasiness, and pray that she would come around sooner rather than later.

Adaar looked up at her as she descended, a brief, slow smile spreading over her face, warming her eyes. Josephine's heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of it.

Adaar pushed out the chair across from her with her foot. "Coming to see me, my lady?"

Josephine sat, settling her skirts, tucking her ankles neatly against one another. "Who else?"

"Maybe you have urgent business with Bull," Adaar mused, glancing across to a corner of the tavern room, where Iron Bull and Dorian were in the midst of an animated conversation.

"I know better than to try to interject there," Josephine said, and Adaar chuckled. "I thought we might take a walk. There's a delightful seamstress just a few streets away. Beautiful fabric—silks, velvet, lace…my wardrobe is still woefully thin after Haven, and you ought to supplement yours, too."

"Me?" Adaar cast her a bemused look, eyebrows slightly raised. "What for?" 

There was a little wavy tendril of her hair that had fallen against her cheek. Josephine hated how tired she looked, but being a little mussed, a little undone, did suit her. As if she'd just woken up; as if she smiled at Josephine from the other side of the pillow instead of the other side of the table—

She tried to clip that line of thought before it could spiral out of control. "You look very dashing in armor," she said, and Adaar snorted, but she didn't look displeased. "But it doesn't suit all circumstances. There are more events of a social nature in your near future."

Adaar plucked at the collar of her leather coat. "Wonderful. I'm sure you've guessed this, but I don't think I'd feel comfortable in…finery. I doubt I'd look comfortable, either. There's just too many frills, and laces, and—"

"I promise you, this seamstress can make plenty of things that are perfectly comfortable. And elegant, but understated." Josephine eyed Adaar thoughtfully. "Many people wander the ballrooms of Val Royeaux wearing such exaggerated, fantastic pieces that the wearer is entirely overshadowed by them. That is not the goal, here. You will not be displaying frills and laces; whatever you wear must display you. Your power, your resolve…your beauty."

Adaar ducked her head, but not before Josephine saw her smile. "Flatterer. What do the courts care for my beauty?"

"Oh, they are blind to such things," Josephine said, flippantly, daringly. "But I have eyes."

Adaar gave a breathless laugh that sounded very sweet indeed. "Well, then. I suppose I have been talked into a walk."

Josephine grinned in triumph and was halfway to her feet when one of the guards trotted up to their table. "Message for you, Ambassador," he said, laying the scroll on the table. "Runner just came and went. And from Skyhold, for you, Inquisitor." He handed a second, much smaller, scroll to Adaar—the paper thin, the better to be carried by raven.

Josephine gave the scroll on the table a long look. She could feel her heart beating in her ears, beneath her ribs, in her stomach—a nervous, anxious drumming so much less pleasant than the flutters Adaar inspired.

"This is the seal of the House of Repose," she said. 

Adaar paused in the act of slitting her own scroll open. Her eyes darted to the missive. "Read quickly."

Josephine fumbled a little on the seal, but rolled the paper open, held it in her hands. The culmination of all her work, all Adaar's patience—she hoped. Maker, how she hoped. She hoped so much that she was nearly blind with it.

She read the words rapidly. Once through, and then twice, to make sure it was not a hazy daydream. She let out a trembling breath she had not realized she'd been holding.

"They confirm that the Du Paraquettes have nullified the contract," she said. "There's no longer a price on my life."

Adaar slumped back in her seat, a marionette with her strings cut. Josephine was quite tempted to do the same. She was so stunned that she was not quite sure she had arrived at relief yet.

"You're sure?" Adaar said, as though she couldn't help but ask. "It's not a trick, or a dupe, or…"

"It's their seal. Genuine. It's over."

Josephine steadied herself, trying to calm her racing thoughts, set them in order. She still needed to dispatch the new paperwork restoring her family's trading status; the couriers would have much less distance to travel this time. The arbiter still had to agree to uphold their earlier negotiations. 

But the worst of it…yes, the worst of it was done.

"I think I am so relieved that my fingers have gone numb," Adaar said—dryly, but a little faintly, too.

"That might be the exhaustion," Josephine pointed out. Just as she'd mentioned to Cassandra, just as she'd feared, she saw her window of opportunity closing, and leapt to hold it open. "I know you planned to set out again as soon as you could, but…might I convince you to stay in Val Royeaux, just for one more night? To celebrate?"

Adaar glanced at her over the scroll she'd just finished carefully prying open. Her hands were trembling a little. "Heard about that, did you?"

"I was not under the impression that it was a secret."

"It wasn't," Adaar sighed, bending her head to the page. "One more night couldn't do any harm, I guess. We'd only get a few hours down the road before we'd have to rest for the evening, anyway."

"Good. There is a lovely little restaurant here I think you'd like." Josephine lowered her voice. "The food at this inn is perfectly fine, mind, but we've had the same stew for three days."

A frown had appeared on Adaar's brow. Her eyes swept the flimsy page, back and forth, back and forth. "Yes," she muttered, but as if with only half a mind. "It's been sort of…lumpy…"

Josephine was so distracted by the thought of a candlelit dinner, free of worry—well, free of immediate worry—and daydreams of a moonlit walk afterward where she might present Adaar with her gift, and what reaction she might receive to it, that it took her much too long to realize that Adaar had stopped reading; that she stared frozen at the page like it had driven a blade through her ribs.

A cold shiver of dread touched Josephine's nape. "What is it?" she asked.

It seemed as if Josephine's words unknotted a spell; Adaar shook her head, lurched back from the table. She rose to her feet with none of her usual grace. "I have to go," she said, her voice rough.

Josephine stood, too, just in time to catch Adaar's arm as she moved toward the stairs. "Go where? What's happened? Has Skyhold…?"

Adaar looked down at her, her eyes—which had gone distant and unfocused, panicked—catching on Josephine's face. "Nothing like that," she said, though the fine shiver in her voice was not particularly reassuring. "No, it's Duskfield. A letter from Jana arrived after we departed. I have to go home."

She offered the scroll to Josephine, and Josephine took it, aware that the entire room had quieted, aware that no one was staring at them but that plenty were waiting, breath baited, for whatever news had so unsettled Adaar. The letter was in Leliana's elegant, compact hand, describing the plea from Jana: the bandits that had taken the village, her flight to Tantervale to beg help, the city-state's forces stretched too thin to respond quickly, to help…

I've sent word to my closest agents, Leliana had written. They will offer what aid they can, but I thought that you would want to know.

Josephine knew that Leliana's closest agents could not exactly be close. The worst of the rifts, the fighting, had not yet bled over into the Free Marches; the Inquisition had only the lightest of presences there. And Duskfield, while close to Adaar's heart, held no real strategic importance as a result.

Leliana's intention was clear: she would not waste time by sending no one at all, but she had notified Adaar so that she could go herself.

Josephine looked from the page to Adaar's troubled, frightened features. "I will go with you," she declared.

For a moment, Adaar didn't react at all; then the furrow in her brow deepened. "Josephine—it will be—"

"Dangerous. I know. I said I would go, and I'm going." She put the scroll back in Adaar's hand.

Adaar's fingers curled around it automatically. "That was when we'd planned a leisure trip—I wouldn't hold you to—"

"I can help," Josephine said, making her voice firm, squaring her shoulders. "These are not rifts and demons. They are people. Perhaps they can still hear reason."

Adaar gave a broken, hopeless laugh. "You do have a way with words, I'll give you that, but it doesn't sound like these people do. It might come to bloodshed, anyway. Then what?"

"Then I will keep your old friends and neighbors calm and quiet and hidden while you do your work," she said. "And I know that you will not fail, so I will be perfectly safe."

Still, Adaar hesitated. Josephine could see the conflict all over her face. Josephine had just been safely delivered from mortal danger, and now she demanded to ride right back into it. Unnecessarily, in Adaar's opinion.

But Josephine had just proven, too, that she could unknot an elaborate problem with words and promises. With a little help, and a little time. And this did not sound like nearly so elaborate a problem as the one that had just come unknotted.

Josephine told herself to be bold, and lifted her hand from Adaar's arm to touch her cheek instead. Adaar's eyes flicked away from her and back again, as if to warn her that there were others here, others who might talk about this little scene later.

A voice made of silverite within her said, Let them.

She would begin now to prove to Adaar what she had promised. That she did not care, and would not change her mind. That if this place, these people, were important to Adaar, then they were important to her, status or strategic importance entirely aside.

"You risked much to help my family," she said quietly, for Adaar's ears alone. "To save me. I could not live with myself if I didn't help you when you needed me."

Adaar looked at her now. Her, and only her. "There is no debt between us. There is nothing to repay."

"I am not speaking of debt," Josephine said, so that Adaar could not misunderstand her.

Adaar held her gaze a moment longer, then nodded, the motion brief, her eyes closing. "Thank you."

Josephine let her hand fall, and did not linger to long on Adaar's acceptance. She did not want to give her the opportunity to change her mind. "We should travel light, I think. Light and fast."

Again, Adaar nodded. When her eyes opened again, the overwhelming emotion that had briefly brimmed there had banked somewhat. "None of the guards. Cassandra, Bull, and Dorian only."

"Finally, I will get a chance to see how you usually travel," Josephine said, teasing, hoping to lighten the burden on Adaar's heart just a little, and she was rewarded with a shaky smile. "Without all of this pomp and ceremony."

"You might regret that later," Adaar said. "Cassandra complains about the horses whenever the slightest opportunity presents itself, and Dorian complains about the cold whenever there's the slightest breeze, and Bull winds them both up for fun."

"But we usually have fresh roasted rabbit for dinner," Bull's voice said cheerfully from the other side of the table. "Where we heading, boss?"

Josephine knew that he had likely overheard everything, and Adaar obviously suspected it, too. "East," she said. "If you're willing to help with a personal errand."

"I, for one, love personal errands," Dorian put in.

Adaar rubbed at her temples. "All right. As soon as Cassandra returns…best pack up. I want to use the daylight we have left."

Josephine was grateful that she'd approached Cassandra an hour ago. She hadn't known how close she'd come to being unable to collect the gift at all. She mourned the idea of that candlelit dinner, the moonlit walk she'd imagined along Val Royeaux's waterfront, but she let the daydreams go.

She would find some other way.

[deaky-disco-queen]

King!AU Week Day 2 - Roleplay

A/N: Here’s my first piece for @stayinqpower‘s Genderbent Week; Quick Disclaimer, I know Nothing About LARP except the quick Basic googling I have done; Enjoy!

+++

Johanna wiped the sweat off her forehead, breathing heavily as she straightened up and looked over the tent she had just set up. It was a simple, pavilion tent for one person but she was still proud of herself for setting it up all for herself. She was sweating profusely, though, and was glad she had opted for the shorts and a tank top for setting up camp. 

Once her tent was set up, she had to walk back to the parking lot to fetch more of her stuff she couldn’t bring on the first trip. A very nice, tall and buff man helped her carrying her camp bed and even set it up for her before disappearing into the crowd of people who were all busy preparing their campsite.

It took Johanna several hours to get all her things set up and her arms were hurting by the end of it but she was done and proud of herself. 

She had been looking forward to this LARP-Event for months now and still couldn’t quite believe she was actually here now. It had been so expensive- she was a college student with very few money in the first place- but she was so happy she decided to go anyway. Now she had two days to enjoy the camp before the game even started and then there were three days worth of roleplaying. 

It made her giddy with excitement. 

She took a quick nap after she was finished. She tried to take a nap, at least. It ended up being more of a doze since there were a lot of people around and her tent wasn’t really sound-proof. She still felt rested afterwards so she counted it as a win. 

At the entrance, one of the game masters had given her a pamphlet with things she could do before the actual game starts and she hadn’t had the time to read through it yet but she decided to catch up with it now. There were several rules for the premises, including no modern devices or clothes outside the tents and so on which were listed in the brochure, too, but most of it was dedicated to the concerts, the marketplace and the activities offered around the place. 

Johanna decided to check out the marketplace and see if she could find some interesting things at the vendors and so she got dressed in a white cotton blouse and a ankle-length green skirt, having brought this outfit especially for the ‘No Modern Clothes’ rule so she could walk around the grounds without breaking the rules. She completed the outfit with a belt and a small sack for her money before heading out. 

The vendors had set up their stuff the day before- according to the brochure at least- and she spent most of the day looking through their displays, purchasing a two rings, a bracelet and some earrings. She was at a stall that sold LARP weapons, arguing with herself that she didn’t really need a dagger no matter how pretty it was when somebody approached her from the side. 

    “It’s a struggle, isn’t it?” 

It was a tall women with long, curly hair in a red and black dress, smiling softly at her. Johanna blinked, taken aback and not really understanding what she was saying. 

    “I can never say no to those dainty headpieces. I have about a ten at home and just bought two more.” The women went on, chuckling at herself. 

Johanna snorted in amusement, knowing this feeling too well. The women held out her hand. 

    “I’m Brianna.” 

    “Johanna.” 

In the end, she didn’t buy the dagger, opting to let Brianna- who has participated in a LARP event like this several times before- show her around and tell her a bit more about how things were working and gave her some insider tips about how to handle things. She even took Johanna to the supermarket located at the outskirts of the grounds to stock up on some more rations for the week and even borrowed her her jute sack so they could carry the things to Johanna’s tent. 

“Are you going to the concert today? I know the band, they were here last year, too, and they are pretty good.” 

    “Yeah, sure!” 

Johanna hadn’t imaged ending her day by listening to a medieval take on rock music and actually enjoying it but she did, dancing with Brianna who turned out to be a miserable dancer but she tried. She also tasted the ale Brianna suggested to her and ended up coughing and gasping to her while the other woman did a terrible job of hiding her laugh. 

+++

    “How did you get into LARPing?” Brianna asked the next day as they learned how to make candles. 

Well, Johanna learned how to make a candle while Brianna already knew how to make one but had joined her anyway. 

    “My dad took me to a renaissance fair when I was ten and worked at one during college. This is just kind of taking it a step further, you know? And I relly wanted to try it out. And you?” 

Brianna laughed, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks and Johanna couldn’t help but stare a little bit when she licked her lips, obviously preparing for an embarrassing story. 

    “My friend Freddie took me to a costume shop to pick out my costume for her Halloween party and I fell in love with one of those medieval princess dresses and she wouldn’t let it down and showed me a small LARP event in our area so I had an excuse to buy more outfits. And now I’m here.” 

They spent most of the day trying many of the offered activities. Johanna even managed to show off her archery skills to Brianna- not that she planned to show off but she was pretty good at it and Brianna seemed very impressed how she cheered for Johanna whenever she hit the target. Brianna offered to cook that day and showed her how that worked if you’re not confined to the space of your tent. Which was what Johanna did because she really didn’t know what to do without her camping cooker. The spinach soup was delicious and was served in bowls Brianna had made herself. Johanna almost swooned at that, impressed by her skills and dedication. 

In the evening, they went to another concert, this time a more folk orientated band and Johanna taught Brianna how to dance to this kind of music, having enough experience from working as an actor at faires for several years. Turned out, as long as Brianna wasn’t leading, she was doing just fine with dancing. Much better than the day before, at least, but then they weren’t really dancing together anyway. 

Johanna did notice how long her fingers were, though, when she gently cupped her hand. Their hands were probably around the same size, she realized, trying to focus on teaching her the steps instead of getting distracted by the mental images of what Brianna could do with her hands. 

It didn’t work. 

+++

Sleep was fitful that night and filled with clever fingers and hot mouths, wet sounds and soft moans still ringing in her ears when she woke up. She pressed a hand over her mouth and pressed her burning face into her pillow as her other hand slid down her body and into her panties. 

Of course she was too much of a gay disaster to just go somewhere and not fall for a gorgeous woman. She kind of saw it coming from the moment where Brianna had showed her how to make a fire with flint and stone. 

Thankfully, the game started today and there was a very slim chance that she would actually interact with Brianna since there were hundreds of people here. She probably wouldn’t see her until the game was over and until then she could work this out and get over the fact that she spent her morning masturbating over the image of Brianna showing her how to do pottery and pulling a ‘Ghost’ moment on her. 

She got dressed in her costume, braiding her hair out of the way and stepped out of her tent. It was warm, especially since she was wearing a floor length gown with a cloak on top of it to fit the look of an alchemist as she had envisioned it. She was glad she went for the gown instead of the pants because it was at least a little bit cooler. Also, the leather corsage wouldn’t look half as nice with the pants and blouse she had bought. 

There was a piece of parchment attached to one of the guy-ropes of her tent. She tugged it free and rolled it open. 

Meet me at the river bridge before the game starts. If you want to, that is. -Bri

Johanna bit her lip, contemplaining for a second to not go- she was still very embarrassed about the whole dream thing- but Brianna didn’t know that nor did she deserve getting the cold shoulder out of nowhere. And so she made her way through the camp towards the river. 

She could see Brianna from a distance and her breath got caught in her throat. Brianna was wearing a deep blue dress and her hair was in a complicated updo, a crown poking out between her curls. Her face broke into a wide smile when she spotted Johanna. 

    “You came!” She said, hoisting up her skirt and rushed towards her. “Please tell me you haven’t signed up for any camps yet.”

Johanna shook her head and Brianna laughed, pulling her into a hug. 

    “Great! I hoped so, actually, because I want to recruit you! Please join the Camp Topaz which is lead by me. Well, my character Queen Corona but same thing, really.” 

    “I’d love to!”  

She gave Brianna a quick rundown on her character Samantha, an alchemist, so they could work out how to include her into the story so she had a good reason to be with Brianna. Johanna was glad, if she was honest, since she didn’t exactly have a plan on what she was going to do during the game.  

And then the game began and Johanna was preoccupied with roleplaying and generally having a great time. They followed the big questline the game masters had set up for them and competed with the other four camps for a magical artifact. 

It was incredible fun and by the evening Johanna was positively sore from all the running around she did and fell asleep as soon as she collapsed into her bed. 

+++

The next two days went pretty much the same, with Brianna fetching Johanna in the morning and both of them going off on quests together and with Brianna knowing exactly what she was doing, it was easy to really get into her character, Johanna noticed. 

Time seemed to pass far too quickly and Johanna found herself at the farewell party much earlier than she had hoped. 

Brianna was with her and they had chosen a spot a bit further away from the main event so they could talk more easily. Johanna was leaning heavily against her, warm and tired from the alcohol she had, eyes half closed. Brianna’s arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, absently rubbing circles into her blouse and she could feel the warmth of her hand through the fabric. 

She hummed happily, her hand that had been holding her mug slipping off the table and onto Brianna’s knee. 

    “Are you tired? You wanna go back to your tent?” 

Johanna shook her head as much as it was possible for her. Going back to her tent meant Brianna was going to go but she wasn’t ready for that yet. 

    “I think you are.” Brianna said softly, brushing a strand out of Johanna’s face. “Come on, let’s have a walk, it might wake you up a little bit.” 

She chugged the rest of Johanna’s wine and then stood up, pulling her up with her despite her whined complaints, walking them out of the tent pressed close together. The camp was filled with people celebrating and they had to find their way through it without getting too distracted. 

    “There we are.” Brianna said once they had reached Johanna’s tent. “Feeling more awake?” 

Johanna, who had gone from letting Brianna guide her to linking their arms together and paying attention to where they were going, nodded and sighed. Then, Brianna cupped her face and pulled her into a soft kiss. 

She made a quiet, surprised sound against Brianna’s mouth and she immediately tried to pull back and Johanna could already hear her stuttering out apologies for several minutes and so she leaned up to kiss her again before that could happen. 

Brianna’s hands came to rest on her hips when Johanna stepped even closer, pressing their chests together and opened her mouth to deepen their kiss. Both of them moaned at that and stumbled backwards. Johanna struggled to open her tent with one hand without stopping to kiss her which she didn’t quite manage but Brianna was more than happy to suck marks against her neck while she turned around to get it open. 

She pulled her inside, fingers tangling into her curls and Brianna pulled her skirt upwards, her fingers brushing over Johanna’s thighs and making her shiver. 

Their dressed didn’t prove to be the easiest things to get off in the heat of the moment while being a little bit more than tipsy but they managed and they fell onto her camping bed completely naked. Johannas hands roamed over Brianna’s body, experimentally flicking her nipples, grinning against her lips when she gasped and repeated the move. Brianna nipped at her lip in retaliation before kissing her way down her neck. 

Johanna whined when she licked over her nipple, sucking it into her mouth while her fingers slipped between her thighs, caressing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, causing her to tremble and throw her head back. 

    “Brianna, please!” She gasped and felt her grin against her stomach, pressing a kiss to her hip bone. 

Brianna tangled their fingers together, squeezing slightly as she kissed down further, hooking one of Johanna’s legs over her shoulder. 

+++

    “Are you sure you’re not forgetting anything?” Brianna asked for the third time and Johanna rolled her eyes, nodding patiently. 

    “Yes, I’m sure. You double-checked everything and I went over everything twice. I have everything.” 

Brianna hummed thoughtfully, a frown on her face but she leaned down to kiss her anyways, gently cradling her head in her hand when Johanna sighed happily. 

After waking up squeezed into Johanna’s tiny camp bed together, they had spent most of the afternoon packing their things together, helping each other take down their tents and carrying everything to their respective cars and clean up their camping spot. 

    “Okay, if you’re sure.” 

    “Yes, because we cleaned up everything and there was nothing else left. Are you sure you have everything?” 

Brianna chuckled, seeing the point Johanna was making and kissed her again. They broke apart with a chuckle.

There was nothing else to say and both of them knew it, smiling sadly at each other. Johanna could see the hickey she left at Brianna’s neck that wasn’t fully covered by her shirt and couldn’t help but smile proudly. 

    “Text me when you come home, yeah?” Brianna asked, brushing her knuckles over her cheek. 

    “I’ll be home before you, you know? But yeah, I will.” 

They kissed again, longer this time as neither was ready to part yet but they had to and eventually, Johanna got into her car and pulled away, watching Brianna wave after her through the rear mirror until she made a turn and couldn’t see her anymore. 

She was sad but more than anything she was excited, knowing she had Brianna’s number saved in her phone and could text her anytime. Never in her life, would she have thought that this week would end like this.

[mrslittletall]

For the bingo: may I suggest Simon with "Dragging Themselves Along The Ground"? He had to get to that hut in the Fishing Hamlet somehow lmao

Prompt:Dragging themselves along the ground

Fandom:BloodborneCharacters:Simon the Harrowed, The Good Hunter, Brador the Church AssassinWordCount: 2.022AO3-Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/18718291/chapters/48553112

Summary:This is pretty much Simon’s questline written out.

(Author’snote: First, I am very sorry that it took me SO long to fulfill thisrequest. I really fell out of doing the bingo prompts and had toomany other stuff instead that I wanted to write. 

This pieceis pretty much Simon’s dialogue with the bits we don’t know filledin. Enjoy.

Warningfor Major Character Death.)

Blood vials have already been filled out, Madman’s Knowledge have already been requested/planned. Feel free to send me a prompt and a character for any unmarked prompt to fill out. I have been in a Healing Church mood though, so characters from there are preferred.Written for @badthingshappenbingo

Simon observed the Hunter who slowly had walked in the room, taking a look around. They didn’t look blood drunk for once. Once they noticed him they came over and stared at him with wide eyes, burning with thousand questions. Simon decided to give them a little explanation of the place they were in:

“You’re a hunter with your sanity, aren’t you? Must’ve taken a wrong turn then, eh? Well, we’re more alike than you think. This is the Hunter’s Nightmare, where hunters end up when drunk with blood.”

The Hunter listened with interest and once he had finished, they stared at him, clearly asking for more. Simon gave them his answer.

“You’ve seen them before. Aimless, wandering hunters, slavering like beasts.”

The Hunter nodded at this words, a sudden understanding in their eyes. Simon continued his explanation after they gestured for him to go on:

“This is what the poor fools have to look forward to. So, don’t be brash, turn back before it’s too late. Unless, you’ve something of an interest in nightmares?”

Now it was their turn. Simon waited with growing anticipation. After a good minute of waiting, the Hunter gave him their reply.

Nightmares are fascinating.

Looked like they hadn’t been fallen on their mouth like he first had thought. This had been the first words they spoke and it felt for him that it had been the last for now. But this…

Simon couldn’t help but grin under his bandaged face. How long had it been that not only a hunter that wasn’t blood drunk had entered the dream but also one that was keen on finding out its secrets? The deserved an answer. And… a warning:

“Ahh, yes, I see… You sense a secret within the Nightmare, and cannot bear to leave it be. As if the spirit of Byrgenwerth lives on within you!”

At the mention of the old college he noticed how the Hunter briefly tensed. He continued:

“Such inquisitive hunters will relish the Nightmare. But beware, secrets are secrets for a reason. And some do not wish to see them uncovered. Especially when the secrets are particularly unseemly… “

The Hunter gave him a long elaborate stare before waving to him and leaving to explore the nightmare. As soon as they were out of sight, Simon started to follow them in silence.

They were a skilled one, managing to plow through the myriads of beasts and drunk blood hunters as if it was a graceful dance. They entered the nightmare cathedral, clearly taken aback by the giant flaming cleric beast resting there, but overcame their fear and snatched the item it hold right out of its claw, then followed the path until they came to the part where Ludwig the Accursed usually roamed around.

It had been a spectacular battle. Halfway through the once Captain of the Church Hunters even managed to regain his humanity, thanks to the guiding moonlight. Once the Hunter had released him from his sorry state as an amalgamated monster the only thing left was his head. It even was still able to talk.

Simon expected the Hunter to give Ludwig the last blow, not let him live without a body and the knowledge of what he did.

They surprised him however. First, by not telling Ludwig the truth. And second, by letting his body lay where they found it.

Simon sneaked into the building and eyed the severed head of Ludwig with one half pity and one half disgust. This guy didn’t even knew what really had become of his church hunters.

…Maybe it was better that the Hunter had told him a sweet lie. Right now the head had fallen into some kind of uneasy sleep. Simon pulled out his weapon of choice, the bow blade and gave the head a quick ending.

Shortly after he had done this, the Hunter returned to the building, apparently having forgotten something and gave him a confsued look when they noticed that the head wasn’t moving anymore. Simon explained his reasoning to them.

“Oh, he’s well and truly gone, now. A tragic figure. But he will shame himself no longer. He died with his ideals untarnished. He was a true hero, and earnt that much, at least. Here, this is Ludwig’s guiding Light. The blinding thread, that lead, and mislead, that consummate hero. The poor brute.”

The Hunter didn’t say a single word. They just looked from the head to him and in their eyes there was this burning question, like if they wanted to ask “why?” For someone who barely talked, they were astonishingly expressive with their questions. Simon spoke:

“Do you know why the Hunters are drawn to this Nightmare? Because it sprouted from their very misdeeds. Things that some would rather keep secret. A pitiful tale of petty arrogance, really. High time someone exposed the whole charade.“

Now, now, go on ahead.

You seek nightmares, and the secrets within, do you not?”

The way to the research hall was open for the Hunter now. Simon sneaked in before them and awaited them right in front of the entracce after the giant elevator. They were getting close to uncover the real secret and he had to guide them on the right path.

Once the Hunter had peaked into the Research Hall, they came back to him, cocking their head, their gaze wanting answers. Simon told them the truth. The truth he once, in another life, had lived for himself.

“Oh, hello. Not a pretty sight, is it? The true face of the blood-worshipping, beast-purging Healing Church. But that’s not all. You seek the secrets field by the Nightmare, do you not?vThen here’s what you must do. Climb the Astral Clocktower, and kill Maria. She hides the real secret… “

The next part took the Hunter a good while. The Research Hall was huge, confusing and a majority of the patients were rather aggressive. Time and time again, they appeared back at the lamp, both the advantages and the curse of a dreaming hunter, brushing off their coat and ran back into the Research Hall.

Eventually some shifting was heard, the architecture of the Research Hall changed and Simon hid himself when the Hunter took care of the Living Failures who guarded the clocktower and then finally faced Lady Maria. This was a battle of the utmost grace as both hunters clashed at each other.

Lady Maria would have easily been able to win this round, but the Hunter was a dreamer and could come back to challenge her again and again. It was impressive to see how they got better at predicting her movements and eventually overcame her.

Finally, the way to the real secret was free. Simon snuck his way past the Hunter who seemed to stay for a while, maybe praying for the poor soul of Maria, and made his way into the Fishing Hamlet.

The uncovering of the secret was so close now, it was within his arm’s reach.

That was when he heard the tolling of the bell.

With an uneasy feeling he looked behind him, grabbing his bowblade. What appeared in front of his eyes wasn’t a happy sight. The church assassin. The one in the beast hide hood. The one normally locked in a cell below the Research Hall.

It became very apparent for Simon that he had become his mark.

Simon picked up the fight and managed to win but not without sustaining a few injuries on his own. This was fine, he had blood vials with him. He treated the injuries done to him with them and moved on. The uncovering of the secret was within his reach. He wouldn’t give up now.

But… the tolling of the bell didn’t cease.

The beast-hide assasin came back for another round. And he was a tough one. Even though Simon managed to banish him this time too, it cut his blood vial supplies in half.

He wouldn’t hold through much longer when he would come back again.

And he came back, again and again, each and every time Simon picked up the fight, banishing him until his very last blood vial had been used.

It barely had managed to cease the bleeding of the multiple wounds, his bones ached and a few of them felt broken. Would the assassin come back for him again, he would be done for.

Simon tried to get up from his kneeling position only for his legs to give out under him and he fell in the ground of the hamlet, water and and mud splattering from his impact. He hissed in pain as the mud mixed with salt water seeped into his open wounds.

Walking was out of the question.

What also was out of the question was staying here. He couldn’t die here. Not after he had come so far.

His legs had given up, but Simon’s arm still had enough strength to get him moving.

Slowly, very slowly, Simon started to work on his body along the ground, having to catch his breath every few inches. The muddy saltwater seeping into his wounds didn’t made the pain he already experienced any better. It felt like hours had passed before he even had made a few feet of the way.

He had made a botch of things. He had been found out. Even in the nightmare, the church had its ways to make sure that their secret kept been uncovered.

At least… at least, there still was the Hunter. They wanted to find out the secret too. Simon had to find them… or at least find a place where he could wait for them. He steeled his body and dragged himself along until his tired arms gave out and all strength left his body, his face falling in the mud.

If the Hunter also would have to deal with the assassin…?

As Simon pulled his body back up with great effort, he greatly regretted that he never had taken care of the assassin at his cell. He had a perfect key for this lock with him. But as someone who never had heard the bell’s tolling he always had been talking about, it hadn’t been of any use.

Until now.

He truly played the prize for his ignorance at this very moment.

The last few meters to the hut were a drag. He barely could even get his upper body up anymore. At his rate, Simon had to drag pretty much his whole body over the ground. When he had been covered in blood before, now he was covered in blood and mud and should he manage to survive this whole ordeal, he wasn’t too sure if he would survive the aftermath of the infection that would surely await him.

As he finally made it into the hut, he let his head fall down on the ground, gasping. Not a moment too soon. Not a moment too late. The Hunter had just entered the hut, coming near him with a concerned look. He gave them his final words as he pulled out the key and handed it to them:

“…Oh, you, I’m afraid, I’ve made a botch of things… …I can hear the bell, now……The beast-hide assassin, he’s after me……Again and again……It never ends……Please, I need you to do something… …This village is the true secret.Testament to the old sins……It feeds this Hunter’s Nightmare……Please, bring to an end to the horror……So our forefathers sinned?…We hunters cannot bear their weight forever……It isn’t fair, it just isn’t fair… “

After Simon had spoken his words, he could feel how the last ounce of strength left him. So he didn’t made it. He would die on this very ground of the hut. As his conscience faded, the hand that still had clutched the bowblade as he had himself dragging along fell on the ground, letting go of the weapon.

The last thing he saw was the Hunter picking it up and a kind of new found resolve in their eyes.