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m1ckeyb3rry · 11 months

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Pomegranate Ink: XIV

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: The beginning of the new school year leads to reunions with some familiar faces.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: uhh rare pomegranate ink update ig

“You really don’t have to do this,” Yuta said, staring at the envelope in your hands so intensely you wondered if he thought he could burn it with his glare.

“How am I supposed to reach grade one status if I never go on any supervised missions? It’ll be fine. I doubt the higher ups or Gojo would let me be with someone as dumb and useless as Naoya, and worst comes to worst, there’s always Tullia Ex Machina,” you said, referring to how Tullia had drank your poisoned blood so that you could survive the attack from the cursed spirit you and Naoya had had to fight during your last supervised mission.

“Don’t rely on that!” Yuta said.

“I was just kidding. But, really, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you said, patting him on the shoulder and then tearing the envelope open. You were surprised that the mission directions had come by mail instead of digitally, as they usually did, but maybe whoever you were reporting to was old fashioned.

“Who’s taking you?” he said. You actually gagged aloud as you read over the letter.

“Fucking Principal Gakuganji!” you said. Yuta made a similar face to yours.

“I’m sorry to hear it,” he said. The principal of the Kyoto school was nothing like Principal Yaga; in fact, Principal Gakuganji had been one of the ones pushing the hardest for Yuta’s execution, back when he still had Rika. You knew him very well as the representation of everything you hated about jujutsu society and the higher ups, and as you were trying to break free from that whole scene, it was all in all not the greatest match up.

“Whatever, I guess I’ll just have to deal with it,” you said. “Would you say this is better or worse than Naoya?”

“Hm, probably better, if only because Gakuganji respects the hierarchies of jujutsu society at least a bit. He probably won’t let you get hurt, because the Kamos and your own family would be furious. Naoya’s a Zenin, so he was at least able to get away with a little bit due to his family’s protection, but Gakuganji can’t claim the same. That said, both are annoying. Why don’t they just let you go with Principal Yaga or Gojo?” Yuta said.

“I actually don’t know,” you said. “I mean, Nanami and Kaito aren’t allowed to supervise me because they’re the ones that gave my recommendation, but there’s no reason why Gojo or Principal Yaga couldn’t. Even Kusakabe, who’s now our direct teacher, can technically take me along with him if he wants. Those three just aren’t able to recommend me for promotion, but since I’ve already gotten the recommendation…”

“Weird,” Yuta said. “I can ask them about it while you’re gone.”

“I’d appreciate it if you would, thanks,” you said. “Knowing my luck, it’s probably some political nonsense blocking them.”

“When will those dumb old men leave you alone?” Yuta sighed.

“Probably never,” you said. “It’s sad, but as long as I have the capability to heal others, they won’t let me go. I’m too valuable to their cause, and because my family is so entrenched in their power structure, they think I’ll eventually fold and join them.”

Something uncomfortable arose on Yuta’s face. “By the way, speaking of such things…”

“Hm? Is something the matter?” you said. He began to fiddle with the two rings on his finger, a nervous habit he had picked up in recent times.

“Y/N,” he said, and then suddenly he was gripping your hand so tightly it was a wonder it did not break. “If I had to go somewhere far away, would you break up with me?”

“Huh? Why are you asking me that?” you said, taken aback. “That’s not really related to what we were talking about earlier at all.”

“Just answer. Please,” he said.

“No, I don’t think so. I mean, if you went somewhere far away and stopped talking to me entirely, I guess it would happen naturally…but I would miss you very dearly, and I would not find a new man until I knew for certain that you did not want me anymore,” you said.

“Oh,” he said. “That’s a relief.”

“Is there a reason you’re asking me that, or are we just at the point in our relationship that we ask each other weird questions? Because if so, I have to know: would you still love me if I was a worm?” you said.

“Obviously,” he said. “And no, it’s not hypothetical. Gojo wants to send me to Africa.”

You paused, tilting your head so that you could really look at him and discern whether he was telling the truth or not. His expression was carefully neutral, only barely hinting at the despair broiling beneath the surface, and he was such a bad liar that you knew this was not a falsehood.

“Africa’s a big continent,” you said. “Did he specify a country? At least a region?”

“No,” Yuta said.

“He wouldn’t,” you said with a sigh. “How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know. I’m supposed to train with some sorcerer contact he has in the area, don’t ask me which area, I don’t know, and I guess it’s until that sorcerer thinks I’ve learned all I can from him,” he said.

“I see,” you said. “And you’re worried I’ll find someone new while you’re in some as-of-yet-unknown-African country?”

“A little bit,” he admitted.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you said with a frown.

“It’s not that I think you would, it’s just…I am afraid,” he said.

“You shouldn’t be,” you said. He gave you one of his looks, those wounded-deer ones that made you want to hold him tightly and tell him it would be alright, but since you had no idea when you would be interrupted by someone or another, you settled for squeezing his hand. “Really, Yuta, I’m being honest. I know you’re scared, but distance is the easiest opponent we’ve had to face by far. What is an ocean to Suguru Geto?”

He let out a surprised yet delighted laugh. “Well! I’d say it’s something.”

“But not more than we can face. We can video call every day, and you can tell me all about how much you’re learning and all of the sunshine you’re enjoying,” you said, using your other hand to poke him in the ribs. “You worry too much. It will be fun! Think of it positively.”

“What will you do while I’m away?” he said, though he was not nearly as morose anymore.

“I’ll train,” you said. “Exorcise curses. Spar with Maki. Complain about the higher ups. Get enough supervised missions in so that I can become an official grade 1 sorcerer.”

“Do you think I should go?” he said.

“Of course I think you should go. I will miss you, but you can’t pass up an opportunity like this,” you said. “Maybe I’ll be a grade 1 by the time we meet again!”

“I bet you will be,” he said. “You’re the coolest sorcerer ever.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then I probably shouldn’t keep Principal Gakuganji waiting for too long. There’s no sense in making him cranky — I doubt he’s pleased with my promotion as it is,” you said.

“Good luck,” he said, glancing at the door and then leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. “Don’t let him bully you.”

“Of course not,” you said. “And you should get to packing. You don’t want to forget stuff, and I’m sure if you know about the trip, it means you have to go soon. Gojo…is not the type to give advance warning for just about anything.”

“You’re right,” Yuta said with a sour face. “See you later.”

“See you!” you said, humming to yourself as you headed towards the meet-up spot Principal Gakuganji had indicated in the letter. You still thought it was a little ridiculous that he insisted on communicating via letter for something so important, but you supposed it was just one of those idiosyncrasies that old people tended to have.

“Y/N L/N,” Principal Gakuganji said in that wheezing voice of his that you so detested. You fought back a frown, wishing that for once you could have someone supervising you that you actually liked, or at the least tolerated.

“Principal Gakuganji,” you said. He motioned for you to follow him, which you did your best to do without completely overtaking him. As expected, he moved at a sedate pace, and you had to purposefully shorten your stride so that he could keep up, which you would’ve rolled your eyes at if you hadn’t already made an enemy of your first supervisor.

“You’ve given that young man Naoya a lot of trouble,” he said.

“He’s the one who’s given me trouble!” you snapped. “I almost died because of him! I would’ve died, if it weren’t for Tullia. How can you say that I’m the troublesome one?”

“We both know he wouldn’t have let you actually die. Here you are, perfectly fine and going on your second mission, and his entire future’s been ruined. After all, he’s been suspended, and even once the suspension’s complete, it’ll take a while for him to regain people’s respect,” Principal Gakuganji said.

“He doesn’t deserve respect. He knowingly put a young sorcerer at risk, and for what? Personal amusement? He should be expelled from jujutsu society, if you ask me. Why is it that it would be a greater crime for me to cheat on Noritoshi than for Naoya to try and kill me?” you said as you entered the mission site and Principal Gakuganji put down a veil. It was a small school, reminiscent of the one where you had met Yuta, and the reminder only made you feel even more irritated with the principal and with the situation at large. How dare he demand that you feel sympathy for Naoya? It ought to be the other way around.

“You are weak,” Principal Gakuganji said. “You have relatively little to offer jujutsu society. That is to say, you are expendable — besides your massive aptitude for healing, which you refuse to tap into. It’s strange, you know, that you are so mediocre at fighting yet you insist on contributing in that way instead of giving in to your natural place in society. Then, to add insult to injury, you have taken one of the actually talented sorcerers out of commission in your desperate attempt to prove yourself. In truth, Miss L/N, I believe you should quit now before you get someone else killed. Maybe you don’t care about Naoya, or about me, but what about your precious friends? What if your incompetence leads to one of their deaths? That special-grade freak boy. The American girl. The panda or the Inumaki heir. What about Maki Zenin? If it was her who died, would you care?”

“Dissection,” you said coldly, hurling the needle towards Principal Gakuganji. His eyes widened, but it flew harmlessly above him and into the heart of the curse which had arisen behind him. The curse exploded, and the veil shattered as the being it had been made to contain was exorcised. “Principal Gakuganji, you should pay more attention to your surroundings. Have you been checked for dementia recently? Perhaps you should be. After all, anyone in their right mind would know that I was promoted for a reason.”

“Miss L/N!” Principal Gakuganji said. “You would do well to revere your elders.”

“And you would do well to know not to talk about them like that. I don’t want to hear it,” you said. “The next time you mention my friends — the next time you even dare to say Maki’s name — I will aim my needle a little lower, and I will not miss.” You turned to leave before pausing and looking back at him, bowing slightly. “Thank you for accompanying me on this mission. I am sure that my act of saving your life and exorcising the curse alone will be enough to earn your recommendation, and I look forward to serving alongside you as a grade one sorcerer one day.”

That summer was busy. Yuta left, but it was such a non-event that you almost did not comprehend it. You wanted to miss him, but you did not have the time to, not when the higher-ups were working you to the bone in an attempt to delay your promotion. The same was happening to Todo — you both were far too young to be traditionally considered Grade 1 sorcerers, so they were doing everything they could to stop you from advancing in the ranks before you promised to be compliant.

But compliance was not in Todo’s nature, and it was no longer the cloak you wished to don. Whether by luck or skill or particularly understanding mentors, you and Todo continued to grow closer and closer to that one final goal of yours, the one where you finally joined the upper echelons of jujutsu society. Recommendation after recommendation, they began to stack up, and it became something like a game for those inclined to betting. Who would be promoted first? You or him?

Maybe that was why you were called together to jujutsu headquarters, a joke by the higher ups, just another attempt in their long history at pissing sorcerers off. Or maybe it was like a kind of poetry, that you had been recommended together and thus would be promoted together. Either way, two weeks before the term began, you and Todo became official first grade sorcerers, making you the youngest in recent history.

“It seems our competition has come to a close,” Todo said as you walked together, you casually sipping on the drink he had bought for you.

“I guess that’s true,” you said.

“There’s no goal for us anymore. What do we do with ourselves? I don’t want our rivalry to end!” he said. You tossed your empty cup in the trash can and frowned when you saw he was furiously wiping away tears.

“Aw, Todo, there’s always goals. Just because we’re Grade 1 sorcerers doesn’t mean we’re at our peaks yet, which means we still have a long way to go before we can put our rivalry to rest,” you said. He burst into sobs, so you reached up and hugged him, patting his back.

“Y/N, I am so proud to — to call a woman like you my counterpart!” he wailed, picking you up and holding you tightly.

“I’m proud to call you my counterpart, too,” you said, unfortunately well-used to his antics by now and even more well-used to the strange looks you always garnered from passersby.

Todo was a little strange, but at the end of the day, he was the kind of person you knew you could rely on. You had learned very quickly that such people were few and far in between, and so you had resolved to cling on to him with all of your might. For his part, he was delighted to have someone who entertained his antics, so he was fiercely loyal to you, and his affection was only outweighed by his zeal in trying to defeat you.

“How has Okkotsu been, anyways?” he said. You smiled slightly.

“He’s been very good,” you said. Todo elbowed you in the side; coming from him, it all but bowled you over, or at least it would’ve if you hadn’t expected it and braced yourself for the impact.

“He’ll be back to compete in the exchange event, won’t he? I need to redeem myself for last year,” he said.

“You don’t want to redeem yourself for your loss against me?” you said. He grinned.

“Of course I’ll do that as well, but since you’re my rival, it only makes sense that you’ll beat me every now and then. There’s no shame in losing to you,” he said.

“There’s not really any shame in losing to Yuta, either, I mean he is a special grade sorcerer,” you said. Todo shook his head.

“That’s exactly it. If I can defeat him, then I will truly have proven myself in a way that no one can argue with,” he said.

“I think you’re out of luck, unfortunately,” you said. “He’s not going to be back for a while, I’m afraid.”

“Make him return. Use your special love powers or something to bring him back!” Todo said. You gave him a dull look and wished Yuta had never named you as his type of woman back during the last exchange event. Recently, Todo had figured out that it was not just that you were Yuta’s type but that you were actually together, and ever since then, he had been relentless in teasing you about it.

“I don’t have special love powers, so you’re just going to have to be content with fighting me and the rest of the first and second years,” you said.

“Not even the third years?” Todo said, aghast. You shook your head.

“Nope, they were all suspended, remember? I have no idea what they’re up to now, but whatever it is, they won’t be at the event,” you said. “That’s why we’re going to have to drag the first years into it. Whoever they are.”

“You’re going to be at such a disadvantage,” Todo said with a disapproving scowl. “Fighting with people you barely know! Normally, you get at least a year to become acquainted with your classmates and team members, so you understand their strengths and weaknesses intimately, but this year, you’ll be fighting with first years! Not only will you not know their skills, they themselves won’t!”

“It worked well enough for Yuta and I last year,” you said. “Don’t forget that a couple of first years beat you back then.”

“Yeah, true,” Todo said, and then he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “But I’m sure the two of you knew each other more than intimately by that point.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, smacking his bicep, which had all the effect of slapping a rock wall in that it probably hurt you more than it hurt him. “That’s not true. We were just the better team then, and we’ll be the better team again this year. Even without Yuta, you all are going to have to contend with Maki.”

“Maki Zenin?” Todo said. “I’m told she’s a weakling.”

“Whoever told you that was wrong,” you said, though without the typical anger you felt when people spoke about Maki in that way. Todo was, if anything, a fair man, and you knew he wouldn’t make such assumptions about Maki if he actually knew her. He could only parrot what he had heard until this point, and it wasn’t his fault that the only people in Kyoto who knew about her hated her.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said. “And I will be prepared to fight this woman that you think so highly of.”

“As if you’ll get a chance,” you said with a grin. “Remember, I’ll be there, too. Who cares about the rest of the participants? They’ll duke it out as they do every year. The fight to watch, the fight that’ll determine the match — that’ll be ours.”

Todo nodded. “True. It’s been far too long since we’ve faced off. The thought of our next battle will carry me through the days until we meet again.”

“We can still meet, idiot,” you said, rolling your eyes affectionately. “I expect you to visit when you can and buy me dinner.”

“My, my,” Todo said. “Demanding!”

“It’s the price you pay for having lost to me at the exchange event. If you win the next one, I’ll pay for you for the rest of the year,” you said, offering him your hand. He took it and shook it firmly.

“Very well! And if you win again, things will continue as they have?” he said, referring to your habit of making him buy you something every time the two of you hung out.

“It sounds like a deal to me,” you said.

“Then to me as well,” he said.

“Since we just made that deal, I would like for you to know that I’m hungry,” you said.

“I just bought you a drink!” Todo said. You batted your eyelashes.

“It’s the price which a loser must pay,” you said.

“Fine,” he grumbled out. “But only because I’m hungry, too.”

“Yay!” you cheered.

“I’m going to drain your bank account once you lose the next event, by the way!”

“As if I’d ever lose to you!”

Returning to the school after the summer break was more like coming home than leaving it in the first place had ever been. The instant you saw your room, still exactly the same as it had been when you had last shut the door on it, you almost burst into tears. Tossing the curtains open, you closed your eyes, allowing the sunshine to warm your skin, the pleasant scent of the candles you always lit filling your nose again for the first time in a while.

“Someone’s happy to be back,” a familiar voice said. You opened your eyes and spun on your heel, beaming when you saw who it was.

“Tullia!” you said, racing over and throwing your arms around her, an embrace which she reciprocated just as tightly. Shortly after the entire debacle with Naoya and Elakshi, Tullia had gone back to America to spend time with her family. She had only flown back into Tokyo yesterday, so this was your first time seeing her since her departure, and a knot in your stomach that you had not even known existed unraveled at the reunion.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said. “I saw you walk into your room, but I wanted to give you a minute to settle in before I stopped by. Maki and the others just went to eat, but I told them I’d wait for you.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Should we go meet up with them, then?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said.

“So, how was your summer, Miss Beach Body?” you said. She grinned, subconsciously running a hand through hair highlighted by the sun’s rays and the salt of the ocean.

“It was great,” she said. “I just spent the entire time relaxing. You’d be jealous of the amount of books I read while lying in the sand.”

“I’m quite sure I would be,” you said with a frown, thinking back to the utter lack of relaxation you had had this summer before internally shrugging. Next summer, you would take time off for sure. And by then Yuta would be back — maybe you both could go on a vacation together.

“At least you’re finally a grade 1 sorcerer!” she said. “That’s so official sounding. I can’t believe one of my best friends is a grade 1 sorcerer.”

“And one of the others is a semi-grade 1,” you said. Tullia’s face lit up.

“Toge! I forgot about that! I’ll have to congratulate him on the promotion,” she said. “That’s so awesome. Maybe he’ll be official, soon, too.”

“It’s likely,” you said. “He’s a really talented sorcerer.”

The corners of her lips curved up slightly as she stared at the ground. “He is, isn’t he?”

“You aren’t far behind,” you said, making a mental note of the development. “As long as you perform as well at the next exchange event as you did last Christmas, you’ll definitely get enough recommendations to be promoted.”

“You can count on it,” she said, clenching her fist. “You know, I talked a lot with my parents while I was at home. I was so hurt when they made me come here, but now — now I understand why they did it. I’m not so angry at them anymore. I just want to make them proud, and if becoming a first grade sorcerer is how I can prove that I’m not a waste, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“You’re not a waste either way,” you said, wondering how productive her conversation with her parents had actually been, based on what she was saying, “But I’ll support you in whatever you do.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said. You paused as you reached the wing of the school where the teachers’ offices were, and then you turned to Tullia.

“Do you mind if I duck in here really quickly?” you said. She let out a laugh, likely knowing exactly what your business was in the part of the school that you rarely visited.

“Not at all. Do you want me to wait?” she said. You shook your head.

“No, go ahead without me,” you said. “You have someone to congratulate, after all.”

Her cheeks turned pink, and she opened her mouth to protest before shutting it again and nodding firmly, giving you a thumbs up.

“I’ll do that,” she said.

“See you soon!” you said, waving at her before turning and heading in the opposite direction, first walking and then running towards the office you knew would have its door slightly ajar, music wafting into the hallway as its owner worked — maybe it would be Taylor Swift, he had really been getting into her the last you had heard.

“You got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt! And I got that — Y/N?” Gojo stopped singing and yelped in surprise when you burst into his office, his stack of papers falling to the ground and fluttering about everywhere. You took no heed of them, leaping over the ones that seemed particularly important and crashing into him in excitement.

“Gojo!” you said. “I’m a grade 1 sorcerer now!”

“Yes, you are!�� he said, ruffling your hair as you leaned against his chest, cognizant of the fact that he had turned his Infinity off at the last moment to catch you and feeling a burst of affection towards him for the fact. “However, you know I knew that already, right?”

“But this is the first time I’ve gotten to see you in person since it happened,” you explained. “I wanted to tell you myself.”

“Of course,” he said. “I’m very proud of you.”

It was nice to hear that from him. Even though Gojo wasn’t directly your teacher anymore, he was still the man who had helped you become a sorcerer, the one who had rescued you from your destiny as nothing more than Noritoshi’s wife. He was like your older brother, so for him to say that he was proud of you made you feel uncharacteristically pleased.

“It’s been so long since I've seen you last,” you said. “I wish the higher ups wouldn’t always send you and Yuta away so far. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“That’s what happens when you’re the strongest,” he said with a long-suffering sigh, stooping over to gather up the papers he had dropped and pressing the pause button on his phone. “Have the two of you stayed in touch?”

“Yes, naturally,” you said, sitting down in the extra seat across from him. “We talk on the phone almost every day. But it’s not the same. I miss him. It’s nice to be seeing everyone else again, but it also feels wrong, because he should be here too.”

“You’ll get to see him again soon,” Gojo assured him. “He’s not in Africa forever.”

“Speaking of,” you said with a frown. “You know Africa isn’t a monolith, right? There’s, like, so many countries and regions in the continent. Do you even know which one he’s in?”

“Obviously I do. Miguel told me to be as vague as possible when referring to his location, though, to avoid leading curse users to his village,” he said. “That’s why I just say he’s in Africa.”

“Oh, that…actually makes sense,” you allowed. You supposed even Gojo had his intelligent and considerate moments every now and then.

“Thank you,” he said dryly, obviously not at all grateful for your lack of faith in him. Despite this, he slid a cup of tea across his desk, nodding at it before settling back in his own chair, pushing his papers neatly aside and resting his chin in his hands. You picked it up and blew on the surface, the steam billowing away from you until the tea was cool enough for you to take a sip.

“It’s good,” you said when it was obvious that he was waiting for your approval. He smiled slightly.

“That’s good,” he said. “How have you been, Y/N?”

“I've been well enough,” you said. He hummed in thought.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. “Still friends with Maki?”

“Maki? Of course I am,” you said. “I’ll always be friends with her.”

He swallowed. “I hope that’s the case.”

“Do you think we won’t be?” you said, put out by his response. To your further chagrin, he did not correct you immediately, mulling your question over for a moment.

“The future is unpredictable,” he said. “That said, I think it will take a lot for the two of you to break apart. I don’t see it happening anytime soon.”

“It won’t happen at all,” you said stubbornly. “Yuta and Maki and Tullia and Toge and Panda and I are going to be friends for the rest of our lives.”

“You’re right,” he said, and then he exhaled heavily. “Ignore me. Sometimes I say things without really meaning them. This is one of those times; I’m just reminiscing, that's all.”

“Alright,” you said. Then, tentatively, you set down your cup and reached out your hands so that you could place them atop his own, half-thinking that he’d keep his Infinity on and you’d be stopped in the process. But he did not. “You always turn your Infinity off for me, don’t you? Why is that?”

“I don’t see you as a threat,” he said. “Maybe it’s not that I turn it off for you but that I turn it on for everything else.”

“I see,” you said. A moment passed before you spoke again. “Do you miss —?”

“No,” he said instantly. “That’s a foolish thing to think, much less say aloud. Why would I?”

“He was your best friend,” you said. “Principal Yaga mentioned it during one of the missions he supervised me on. It’s not foolish to believe you’d miss him. If I lost Maki like that, I’d still miss her.”

“I’m fine,” Gojo said, and then he pulled his hands away from you and stood up. “Enough talking about me. There’s someone I’d like for you to meet.”

“Really?” you said, mirroring his actions and following him out the door. “Who?”

His expression morphed into a devilish grin. “The boy I’ve been telling you about since the day I met you, of course!”

“Oh no,” you said, dread creeping up your spine. “Don’t tell me you’re taking me to meet who I think you’re taking me to meet!”

“I think I am taking you to meet who you think I’m taking you to meet!” he said cheerfully. “That’s right, after all of this time, I’m finally introducing you to Megumi Fushiguro!”

#yuuta x reader #yuuta x y/n #yuuta x you #canon au #reader insert #pomegranate ink #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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sheacouleecametoslay · 2 years

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Season 10 (2018)

So Season 10 starts off like a 9/10.... I truly thought it was going to be one of the best. But, after The Vixen left, the last four episodes are like a 4/10, which drops the average down. The Werk Room/Untucked scenes become boring. "Breastworld" and "Evil Twins" are two of the worst challenges in the show's entire herstory. Especially the latter, which forced the queens to reveal their insecurities on TV, and were put in the bottom if they weren't cruel enough to themselves. Not to mention the cringe worthy editing to make it seem like the Good Twins and Evil Twins were on the stage at the same time. AND SHOWING THE GOOD TWINS WATCHING BACKSTAGE. Really...? Also, Ru is as high as kite during his walkthrough with the social media influencers in the Make Over episode, which is actually unintentionally funny. And then the finale has such disappointing lips syncs compared to Season 9, between Asia's dead butterflies, Aquaria's trip being edit out, and "Bang Bang" being a complete clusterfuck as the top 3 try to outdo each other with their stunts. The Vixen is responsible for like 90% of the drama this season. She had a major intense fight in 3 different Untucked episodes. First she battled Aquaria, then Eureka, and finally her friends. 9% of the drama comes from Aquaria being conceited and Asia going on random rants. The final 1% is Kalorie and Yuhua having an attitude, but it's minimal and they aren't around for long anyways. The premiere also sets up this pre-season feud between Aquaria and Cracker because they apparently look alike. We've already been there with Alyssa vs Coco, and this "rivalry" didn't amount to much after episode 2. As for the other challenges, PharmaRusical might be the worst Rusical. It was so disappointing they did a second Rusical to make up for it! - the Cher one, and it wasn't much better. The Snatch Game was mostly funny, but Asia and the Vixen playing Beyonce and Blue Ivy, respectively, was rough. Bossy Rossy was a solid challenge, but the adult babies creeped me out. The Last Ball on Earth had some good looks though. And the Drag Con panel was a nice new addition. Plus the mini-challenge where they had to sit on items and identify them was stupid enough to be funny. Season 10 continues this new trend of having a big name celebrity guest judge. This time it's Christina Aguilera, who walks the runway pretending to be Farrah Moan as a fake out. I'm not sure when the trauma stories during the make-up sessions became more prominent, but I definitely noticed them more in Season 10. Probably because Season 10 is when production switched the episode length to 60 minutes (90 with commercials). Say what you will about Season 15 episodes being too short, I never had an issue with Seasons 1-9 being only 40 minutes long. I never felt like I was missing anything important. I get exhausted when I try to binge watch these longer episodes, and there's definitely some filler towards the end of this season. Also, Season 10 has 6 main characters (Aquaria, Eureka, Asia, Monet, the Vixen, and Mo) plus Vanjie being iconic, and the other 7 queens don't stand out as much. The unofficial Lip Sync Assassin title kept changing hands - from Monet to Vixen to Kameron, which was pretty cool. I got sick of all the New York mentions though. And the Double Shantay was such obvious riggory in Eureka's favour. I imagine production planned for Kameron to leave at the final 6 instead, but she slayed the lip sync.

Queens Ranking: 14. Eureka A whole season of Eureka... including a sympathy edit, crying in front of the judges, and bringing up trauma stories when she flopped. Just look at everyone hugging her in episode 2. Furthermore, she acted like the Vixen was the problem, claiming that the Vixen verbally attacked her and disliked her for no reason, while Eureka did nothing wrong. Which was BS. Eureka admitted to Mayhem afterwards that she was testing Vixen's reaction. She then lied to the Vixen about the "y'all"/"you" thing and used abuse trauma to excuse her big personality. She also pressured Kameron to sing and accused Asia of overreacting. She took over in every team challenge. Her confessionals were extra ("...buttholes are clenched", "pussies on fleek"). She thought she was judged at a higher standard. She was oddly defensive about her Make Over. Her friendly supportive chats with everyone felt so phony. She walked off on Untucked because they didn't give her attention. Her comments that the Vixen wants power over others, that Asia was jealous of Cracker, that "[the girls] always second guess every time I'm doing well" rubbed me the wrong way. Eureka came off superior, smug, and condescending. The only time I agreed with her was when the Vixen criticized her Snatch Game. But good for her finding body positivity in the baby challenge. In the competition: Eureka flopped in week 2, when she looked "out of it" during PharmaRusical and didn't know the words. But she became a contender soon after. From the "yeah we know girl" line in the End of Days advert, to playing a baby in Bossy Rossy (whatever), to being the audience favourite in the Drag Con panel ("proportionizing!!"), to her Honey Boo Boo in Snatch Game (even if she kept repeating the drawing pictures joke). She's already done Drag Con so no wonder she won that. But then Eureka was tentative in the Cher Rusical, and the hairdryer bit in "Breastworld" fell flat. I didn't like her Best Drag, Silver Foxy and Good Twin runways either. Glitterific was probably her best one. Also, Eureka just did the splits and high kicks in every single lip sync. And so many outfit reveals in the finale. 13. Dusty Ray Bottoms I don't have much of an opinion on Dusty. She gave me Milk vibes. She always had this creepy smile/eyes. She labelled herself as "dark, glamorous and trashy" with a punk style, but I wasn't into her drag. She thought she would've won PharmaRusical if she wasn't on the losing team. But seemed reasonable when explaining her views on situations in Untucked. Like when she called Aquaria standoffish lol. She also had that gay conversation therapy story. Otherwise, Michelle didn't want Dusty doing the dots on her face all the time, which left her feeling torn about it because it was her signature look. In the competition: Well, I did NOT like the dots on Dusty's face. I didn't like her runways either. Dusty's Drag on a Dime Tin Man outfit looked scrappy. While her Martian outfit didn't follow the theme. Her episode 2 runway wasn't bad though. As for the performance challenges, I thought Dusty was fine in both of them. Not top 3 worthy though. 12. Kameron Michaels Kameron brought a unique aesthetic as a tattooed, masculine, muscled queen. But she's too dry and matter-of-fact for me to care about. She didn't have much screen time in the early episodes either; aside from being labelled "the trade of the season" and mumbling while brainstorming. She was a quiet queen, who was conditioned to not show emotion. Her later moments include: not celebrating prematurely, keeping her desire to win the challenge a secret, and saying being eliminated would've been easier than eliminating someone. Meanwhile Asia/Cracker/Monet acted like Kameron was crazy for saying she was terrible in "Breastworld"... when she clearly was. And they didn't understand why she walked off on Untucked. Kameron is an introvert, so just let her be? She also flipped out at the final 5 Untucked. Otherwise, Kameron was one of Eureka's besties. In the competition: Kameron was the unexpected Lip Sync Assassin, beating the production faves in the endgame. She won the Cher Rusical by focusing on the mannerisms, and she was one of the better ones in Bossy Rossy. But she was too exaggerated in PharmaRusical, she was a dry narrator in the Fibstr advert, and I didn't agree with her "high" placement in the Ball - I thought her Martian look was junky. Her "Breastworld" character had the most annoying whiny voice too. Her Make Over was basic. And I didn't like her Evil Twin outfit. My fave Kameron runways were the elaborate feather one and Silver Foxy. 11. Miz Cracker Cracker had a bigger edit than I remembered. Her confessionals came off too self-controlled - like every word was carefully planned out... or corny ("...not even a partridge in a pear tree!"; "Dr Dill is Jewish!"; "American Horror Story: Cher Edition"). Asia even called her robotic. It's because Cracker came from a sheltered, poor childhood with high expectations. She felt dread in challenges, even talking to herself during one of them. And she was vocal in group chats. She slammed her drink down at the Vixen. She gave a learn to love yourself speech and an appreciate what you have speech on Untucked. She built Monet and Mo up. She hard criticized Eureka's Make Over. She confronted Aquaria about her overconfidence in this very indirect way lol. And she disputed Asia's claims of being used. Also lol at Asia and Mo's reactions to Cracker's name in the premiere. As for the Aquaria copycat thing, I don't believe Cracker intended it. In the competition: Cracker's Pickle character in Bossy Rossy was her best moment, but she became a comedy queen who couldn't excel in comedy challenges. She sounded mean in the Drag Con panel and neutral toned in "Breastworld". Still, she tried something with her Ball looks. Her Make Over was beautiful (she waited so long for that win too). And both of her hair headpiece runways were cool. In the end, Cracker's Evil Twin outfits didn't match and she went soft in the self-critiques, but that challenge was stupid anyways. 10. Kalorie Karbdashian-Williams Kalorie was known as a "twerk queen", but her twerking fell into "one trick pony" territory. She didn't have a ton of content on the actual episodes either, aside from her story about being bullied for her weight. She was quite bitter on Untucked though. In the first one, she was upset that some of the safe girls didn't use as much stuff. She proceeded to criticize Monet and Aquaria's outfits, while throwing Blair under the bus. Then in the second Untucked, she took issue with the group not asking her about her critiques. But she had a sweet goodbye after that at least. In the competition: Kalorie's Drag on a Dime money outfit looked sloppily put together. While in PharmaRusical, her foot slipped off the chair lol. Her second runway was basic too. But she was fun in the first lip sync, where she twerked and pulled out dollar bills into the splits. 9. Mayhem Miller Mayhem was the timid and sensitive one. She waited so long to get on the show, and then she cried on the first Untucked because she finally felt validated. She comforted her bestie Eureka on Untucked. She played peacemaker between Vixen and Eureka after their massive fight. And in her final Untucked, she gave this big speech about being grateful for the opportunity. She was at peace with her growth. That said, I don't agree with Mayhem saying that her voice wasn't heard in the team discussion. Mo gave her an opportunity to claim the narrator role, but Mayhem didn't want to be seen as aggressive. I understand that, but this is a cutthroat competition and being passive won't get you far. Indeed, Kameron snatched that narrator role and Mayhem was left with one line. In the competition: Mayhem was solid with runways. She won the first challenge thanks to her black gloves outfit. I also thought she was the second-best overall in the Ball. Her pink cowgirl runway was cute too. But the acting challenges caused Mayhem's premature downfall. She didn't appear in the Fibstr advert until the very end, where her character was confusing. And she was the most forgettable in Bossy Rossy. But she slayed that "Celebrity Skin" lip sync - it was intense in the best way. 8. Yuhua Hamasaki Yuhua had fun responses during the entrances - "you’re not a real woman either!" Then she couldn't differentiate the black queens.💀In episode 3, she offered bad ideas while brainstorming with Monet, and didn't realize their ad already had a name. Then she snapped at Aquaria and Monet for not letting her use a fake nose, while saying "nobody asked for Aquaria's opinion" in confessional. Monet did sound bossy tbf. She also kept giving excuses to the judges - from saying she had something better during the second runway, to feeling rushed during the advert challenge. She still had one of my favourite entrance looks though. In the competition: Yuhua seemed like a strong competitor at first - with her yellow caution tape ankh and her underrated PharmaRusical performance. But she wasn't funny in the Butterface advert and she misunderstood how to be ugly for it. And then she had to go against Mayhem's impressive lip sync. 7. Blair St. Clair The twinkiest twink to ever twink on Drag Race. Blair had the most UTR edit of the Season 10 cast. She had the "so dot dot dot fill in the blank" confessional, she said "yeah I'm a little sneak attack" in this cute voice, and showed her stats notebook. But her personality was kinda... bland (no offence). She was just happy to be there. When Kalorie threw her under the bus, she avoided the drama and told Aquaria she loved the concept. She was sweet to Mayhem in Mayhem's last Untucked. And she missed her mom a lot, so it was nice when she got that video message. In Blair's final episode, she shared her sex abuse story to the judges. And again on Untucked, where she explained that she needed to be a happier person after that experience. I'm glad she was able to move on from it. In the competition: If PharmaRusical wasn't based on teams, I'd mark Blair as "safe" every single week except the round she left. She's a Broadway queen and can act... but she just wasn't funny. I did like her Drag on a Dime sun protector thing, her Ball looks, plus her Best Drag runway was pretty too. But ultimately, Blair's teammates overran her during the Drag Con panel, when she was trying to moderate. And then she had to lip sync after sharing personal trauma. 6. Monét X Change The narrator of Season 10. Monet had these "high horse" or unaware moments. Particularly in the first Untucked where she thought the judges loved her sponge dress, was surprised that the queens didn't get the concept, defended Cracker to Vixen, told Kalorie "mine looks good and yours doesn't", and said that Kalorie is just bitter. Even after that, she sounded bossy to Yuhua, she acted like Aquaria didn't deserve to win Snatch Game, and she called the Vixen immature and combative. But most of the time, Monet interjected with a congenial approach when there was conflict. Like saying she appreciated the Vixen's realness. And she had fun in confessionals, like she was just hanging out backstage. I also liked her "sweep up the competition" entrance. And she was there for Eureka and Cracker when they needed support. Her English accent story was funny too. In the competition: Monét was Lip Sync Assassin #1. The "nope" wave in "Pound The Alarm" and the hairspray cans and smoking in "Man! I Feel Like A Woman" were fun moments. She wasn't bad in "Good As Hell" either, even breaking a stage light. But, aside from the crossed-eye bit in PharmaRusical, Monét had a rough start. The sponge dress was not couture. The Martian outfit looked unprofessional (the cut; the black marker). That cake bit in Bossy Rossy was confusing. And her neon winter, Denim & Diamonds and Glitterific runways were a mess. She was read for her pussycat wigs too. The sagging boobs runway was creative though. But then Monét found Ru-demption. Her Maya Angelou in Snatch Game was good enough to win. And she had those ad libs in "Breastworld". But of course another design challenge ended her run, with that cheap-looking Make Over. 5. Vanessa Vanjie Mateo "MISS VANJIE... MISS VANJIE... MISS VANJIE" is the most iconic exit line in the show's herstory. It was repeated in practically every episode after. Even without the meme, Vanessa had protentional to be a great TV character. She had this very uhhh... vanjie... way of talking that came off as an authentic personality. She compared RuPaul to the Loch Ness Monster, she said "What the- bitch are we on Big Brother?" when they were de-dragging, and she made a "cleaning crew" comment about Monet's sponges. I loved listening to her talk. So I'm glad Vanjie was given a Shangela-style second chance, even though I haven't watched Season 11 yet. In the competition: Vanjie's Drag on a Dime Barbie doll outfit wasn't in my bottom 3, although her entrance look would be. I get it though - it was like her entire upper body was bloated into a clump of clutter. She held her own against Kalorie in the lip sync though. 4. The Vixen Polarizing but Season 10 is empty without the Vixen. Her entrance line "I'm just here to fight" was right. She immediately called people out, and didn't beat around the bush. She said Cracker "faked it to Season 10", and questioned Monet's pushback over that comment. She exposed Aquaria for acting different to Cracker's face. She clapped back at Aquaria for the borrowed wig remark and the "negative" label. While on Untucked, the Vixen raised an important point about the "angry black woman" stereotype, since Aquaria came for her first and now Aquaria's crying over it. Next, the Vixen tore Eureka to shreds after the "can I go smoke" comment ("you are exactly the girl I did not like on Season 9"); while Eureka made the Vixen look like the aggressor (ugh). Then the Vixen criticized Eureka's Snatch Game performance and called her unprofessional to the judges. But she went too far on Untucked, calling Asia and Mo fake and disloyal for saying she should go home, because friends don't do that. Since the Vixen named Eureka for personal reasons, she assumed everyone else made it personal. She also said she wouldn't let them take away her dream. Finally, in her last Untucked, she called out the non-glitter outfits. The Vixen was passionate about doing bold political drag, and that hurt and anger stayed with her on the show (as she said: "It is impossible being a black gay drag queen in America"). The Vixen refused to change for others; saying you should know how she is, so don't "poke the bear". Otherwise, she paired Eureka and Aquaria to sabotage them. She suggested playing Cracker/Aquaria in the challenge lol. She gave facial reactions at Eureka (the air violin lol). She didn't listen to what roles her teammates wanted in episode 2. And she was supportive to Blair after the sexual assault story. In the competition: The Vixen was Lip Sync Assassin #2. I enjoyed her stunts the first time, but it felt repetitive the second time. She was also the star of PharmaRusical; starting things off with that chair kick. But she really struggled during the middle. Her and Asia were a disastrous duo. She broke character during improv. Blue Ivy in Snatch Game was a bad idea. And she didn't emulate Cher in the second Rusical. Also, her 3 Ball looks could've been executed better. Same with the Drag on a Dime pool noodles. My fave Vixen runways were the peacock, the hats and the glitter construction paper. 3. Aquaria Conceited, self-absorbed, and poised in confessional, but in a non-serious way? "Not only am I great at being myself, but I can also do a stupid silly job of being another great celebrity... catch that?" She delivered some WTF quotes too: "keeping your lip-sync straight, your choreography gay, and your characterization bicurious", "I'm like Gandhi", "I'm the Joan of Arc of this challenge, I'm the martyr to Breastworld", "if you pee clear cheer", the "winning" sport response, and confusing seminary school with semen. And she struggled to form a coherent sentence in the Werk Room. Aquaria was off-putting at times. Like acting unbothered to Cracker's face after sharing the yellow dress story. Acting nasty towards the Vixen for interjecting. And her whole anti-Double Shantay rant because it was unfair to HER (lol at her minimizing the double splits though). Aquaria was portrayed as overconfident, and only caring about her own success. Asia called her unsportsmanlike at one point. But Aquaria made an effort to change after everyone confronted her in episode 3 Untucked. She took the last claimed role for "Breastworld". She had this respecting elders moment. She apologized for the Double Shantay rant. And she was sweet to Asia at the final 4 judging. In the competition: Aquaria delivered unique runways all season - the giant nose rings, the bleeding arrows, the bunny ears, the oil slick mermaid, the glittery angel, and her 3 Ball looks. Her final 4 dress was great too. But Aquaria wasn't just a fashion queen. She stole the scene on the losing team in PharmaRusical. She was underrated as the rival baby in Bossy Rossy. She kept delivering jokes as Melania Trump in Snatch Game. She was a believable robot in "Breastworld". And her Evil Twin sounded evil. Plus she was fierce in the "If" lip sync (from what we saw). The Make Over was the only challenge that Aquaria flopped imo. And Silver Foxy was the only other runway that was a miss, because it didn't match the theme. 2. Asia O'Hara The other narrator of Season 10. Asia's confessionals offered insightful observations on the other queens. She had some funny ones too: ie."And I'm not gonna be no part of it, my teeth were too expensive *smiles*"; "SHE DON'T KNOW THE WORDS"; "I'm not done *puts down drink*". Asia was the mom of the cast, but a brutally honest kind of mom. She clocked Aquaria's anti-Double Shantay rant. She called out Eureka for hounding Kameron to sing. And she had that meaningful conversation with the Vixen. Asia always spoke with this determined conviction. Which sounded harsh when she wasn't "wowed" by Mayhem or when she told the judges that Cracker wasn't a star. At least she apologized for the latter. But lol at her random rants - claiming her team had the harder number, feeling used for helping everyone during the Ball, that her Cher role was set up to fail, that she couldn't get through to Kameron, and hating glitter. Still, Asia threw fun shade ("and your talent is in the bottom 2", "you need to take your make-up up an octave"). I loved her reactions, like during Monet's sponge dress delusions or when Ru slapped her. And she had a sweet moment with Aquaria at the final 4. Also lol at "Girl we don't do that no more ain't you seen the Help?" In the competition: Asia had her highs and lows. Her Drag on a Dime outfit was too much, but she was a stand-out on the losing team in PharmaRusical, and she won the Butterface advert by making faces. But then her first two Ball looks weren't flattering, she was oblivious to the Vixen's cues in Bossy Rossy, she played a hostile Beyonce in Snatch Game, and she forgot her lines in the Cher Rusical. Fortunately Asia recovered in the endgame - playing "Parah Salin" in "Breastworld" and slaying the last two design challenges. She had some of my favourite runways too - the Tweety bird, dandelion, mermaid mask and the glitter clown. But then dead butterflies happened... 1. Mo(nique) Heart The bug eyes. The cartoonish laugh. The screaming whenever shade was thrown. The head/hand movements and voice shifts in confessional to give emphasis to everything. The odd confessionals: "She is gonna give you the ooh ah ah sensation honey", "the kind of trade that will throw you on the wall and you be like 'ohh I think I'm into it'", "America, my face is saying everything you need to know dot com", "Miss Aquafina", "Vixen handed Aquaria her ass in a gift bag gift wrapped there you go Merry Christmas", "RuPaul... thank you... but AHHHH", "I surely picked up them little chicken nuggets honey; dipping sauce; hot mustard", plus her reaction to Monet's English accent thing. She'd often address her confessionals to America too. She mistook giraffe print for brown cow. And she always spoke her mind on Untucked. I agreed with her on Mayhem needing to speak up, and it being fair to say Vixen should go home. Her suspicions of Mayhem throwing her under the bus were correct too! Her "pray the gay away" coming out story was memorable too. In the competition: I'm shocked at Mo having ONE high placement (for the wig snatching in Bossy Rossy). Her Drag on a Dime playing cards outfit was the best. She was funny in the Fibstr advert. She was only bottom 3 in PharmaRusical by default. And she was the funniest in the Drag Con panel. I'm not shocked at Mo's Ball outfits being basic though. She made all her outfits in the Werk Room due to lack of money. Her hats runway was also rough, but I liked the Cookie Monster one. Ultimately, Mo didn't have much depth as Maxine Waters in Snatch Game ("reclaiming my time!") and broke character. And then she forgot the words to the lip sync and took her wig off. Favourite entrance look: Aquaria Challenge ranking: 1. The Last Ball on Earth 2. Snatch Game 3. Drag on a Dime (Design) 4. The Bossy Rossy Show (Improv) 5. "American" Ru-mix (Asia > Aquaria > Kameron > Eureka) 6. Dating App Adverts 7. Drag Con Panel (Branding) 8. Cher: The Unauthorized Rusical 9. Social media kings Make Over 10. PharmaRusical 11. "Breastworld" (Acting) 12. Evil Twins Lip Sync ranking: 1. Monét X Change vs Dusty Ray Bottoms ("Pound The Alarm") 2. Mayhem Miller vs Yuhua Hamasaki ("Celebrity Skin") 3. Eureka vs Kameron Michaels ("New Attitude") (Kameron won this btw) 4. Kameron Michaels vs Monét X Change ("Good As Hell") (should've been the double shantay) 5. Blair St. Clair vs The Vixen ("I'm Coming Out") 6. Kalorie Karbdashian-Williams vs Vanessa Vanjie Mateo ("Ain't No Other Man") 7. Asia O'Hara vs The Vixen ("Groove Is In The Heart") 8. Mayhem Miller vs Monét X Change ("Man! I Feel Like a Woman") (I'd like this more if Monet left her outfit and wig on) 9. Aquaria vs Eureka ("If") 10. Eureka vs Kalorie Karbdashian-Williams ("Best Of My Love") 11. Aquaria vs Eureka vs Kameron Michaels ("Bang Bang") (so chaotic) 12. Top 4 Lip Sync ("Call Me Mother") 13. Kameron Michaels vs Miz Cracker ("Nasty Girl") (I remember nothing about it) 14. Mo(nique) Heart vs The Vixen ("Cut To The Feeling") (second-hand embarrassment part 1) 15. Asia O'Hara vs Kameron Michaels ("Nasty") (second-hand embarrassment part 2) Season ranking so far: 9 > 5 > 6 > AS2 > 4 > 10 > 2 > 7 > AS3 > 3 > 8 > 1 > AS1

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manybcdthings · 1 year

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Name: Celestin Moreau

Age & Birthday: 450 years old, May 4th 1573

Gender/Pronouns: Cis Man He/Him

Birthplace: Sainte Agnes, France

Time in Hollow Cove: 6 months

Species: Vampire

Role: Supply Depot, Soldier, Runner

Positive personality traits: helpful, observant, patient

Negative personality traits: asocial, intense, insensitive

ABOUT

The history of the Moreau Vampire coven has spanned for centuries, appearing within whispers among the Supernaturals during the late 1700s when the coven reached impressive numbers. Before the recent war in 2020, they were known as a coven that would fight relentlessly against werewolves and were called upon by many other vampires for help when against any packs. However, the Moreau's managed to earn an infamous reputation among the vampires too, due to their nature of overtaking smaller covens to grow their own numbers.

Before Celestin's life as a vampire, he was born and raised to be well aware of the supernatural. The small village he resided in with his family was stalked by a werewolf pack that would come to recruit boys and girls alike to turn and join them. The village also served as a place of resource for the wolves to recover from fights or to take food and refuge as and when they needed. Celestin's life was written for him long before he could even walk and talk and the same could be said for his sister. They were prepared for any day to come where they'd be called upon to become wolves.

As the years passed and neither Moreau brother or sister were ever selected, they wondered if their destiny wasn't what they were led to believe. After meticulous planning, together they traveled to find the vampire coven that was at a constant war with the werewolf pack who terrorized their village. It was a long and difficult journey, having to hide from wolves that were on their trail once they realized humans were missing from the village. But, once found Celestin and his sister made a heartfelt pledge. They were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice of their lives, promising to be turned and spend their eternity loyal to the coven, as long as they helped rid the wolves from the village for good. Reluctant, the coven sent Celestin and his sister on a task to prove themselves by bringing them humans to feed from. So together again, the brother and sister became murderers, stalking nearby villages and towns to find suitable victims and they gained the vampires trust. Once the transaction was complete and they two became vampires themselves, life for the Moreau's was never the same again. The coven stayed true to the promise and let Celestin and his sister grow their numbers over time until there were enough to attack the wolves. It was a bloodthirsty battle and in the process many human lives were lost, but Sainte Agnes could finally know peace.

However, the Moreau's were not done. After all of their hard work to grow the coven's numbers, the brother and sister deadly duo turned on their own promise and attacked the coven from within and claimed it as their own. It's previous name has been long forgotten and since the 1700s has been known as the Moreau's, a ruthless coven that killed any werewolf they met but also claimed any vampire. When the war began in 2020, the Moreau's were front line in most of the fighting and made use of their large numbers to liberate vampire facilities.

They have lost many of their coven members over the previous three years but Celestin and his sister prevailed as always. Some claim they abandoned some of their own to save themselves, but since arriving in Hollow Cove it's clear that the Moreau's are trying to find many of their lost members. Some could say they're planning to grow their numbers all over again, perhaps to take the town as theirs and drive away the werewolves.

Celestin is a reserved man with an outward hatred towards werewolves yet an indifferent and aloof one towards any other vampires. It's obvious he is constantly thinking, brooding or even planning something. While he's helpful around the town, he refuses to ever be placed with a wolf when on duty. If he has no other choice, it's common for there to be fights. His livelier nature, while not much different to his neutral, is mostly found when with his sister or vampires they consider worthwhile. After all, you can't recruit coven members with a frown- even though his sister's specialty has always been to charm. His has always been to fight.

#celestinmoreauintro

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electronictimetravelmoose · 3 years

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Being an ex-villain and becoming Batmom (whole story, snippets + Headcanons)

Warnings: mention of death, people burning alive, assault, implied cheating

Wordcount: 10.1k

A/N: Boy I am back and I hit the deep end. This took me days to write and finish. I hope people enjoy it as much as I did and still do.

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Beginning: A Villain was born

in the beginning you never intended nor thought you would ever go down such a path

you were right around the corner to turning 20 when you found out about your magical powers you never knew you’d possessed let alone anyone else in your family

starting with no experience or handbook named ‘Magic 101’ or ‘Magic for Dummies’ it was hard keeping them in check as they would randomly activate with gestures, words or things you did like sneezing or coughing, it was a true torture getting it somewhat under control

due to the lack of control, guidance and training, you were bound to cause accidents sooner or later and in a city such as Gotham who this would be a day to day basis, you would easily get branded with the mark of a villain

but the one day that scenario happened came sooner than you thought it would

it was also the day you found out that your powers were triggered by intense floods of emotions as well…

you were spending a fun afternoon with one of your friend in the mall, chatting, shopping and grabbing food when a group of guys approached you

they roped the two of you into a conversation about a store you just left, saying they never went in there before and just wanted to know if it was worth checking out

being the friendly persons your friend and you were you immediately started telling the guys how amazing the shop was and what kind of stuff they had

not realizing the true intention the man had they took advantage of your naivety and helpfulness

and suddenly everything happened in the bat of an eye

the guys cornered you into a wall, saying nasty things about you and your bodies and suddenly everything and everyone around you was on fire

your flight instinct kicked in and you sprinted through the flames, the screams of pain and agony echoing after you as the flames left you untouched

left and right of you were people on fire burning alive, adults, elderly and children alike, their skin melting of their bodies and the smell of burning flesh and hair becoming unbearable

after that, the accident the media claimed was an attack of a terrorist group, was soon changed by one of the survivors who claimed otherwise

he was one of the guys that cornered you, apparently he made it to a fountain that was inside the mall to extinguish the flames, his burns severe but not as strong as those of the corpses and few other survivors

he claimed it was a woman who did it, her eyes suddenly glowing red and everything catching fire because of her, after that the woman was called the Warlock by the media, a devil, the newest monster of Gotham

telling stories about you, that you did it on purpose and that you would surely do it again

you were called that, everything they claimed was about you and if they wanted to make a villain out of you for a little accident, you would play the part

you trained hours, days, weeks, months until you had your powers under control before you started to give the city a piece of your mind

you never harmed anyone, never used it on other until they attacked first, you just simply had fun in being an asshole to the city who branded you as a devil, a monster, as the Warlock

they made you into it and now they had to endure you

but it still felt wrong deep inside of you, and how would you get out of it when you were already this far into it, spending years to fulfil this roles

you played their villain for two years until a vigilante under the name of Batman appeared, locking criminals and villains away left and right

a door seemed to appear right in front of you and your scheming phase begin

you would engage in fights with him from time to time when you would “accidently” cross paths at night

those fights would turn more extreme from every occurance to the next until you set the main square on fire, like you did almost three years ago in the mall, but this time with full intention, and you as the only victim

of course it wasn’t really you that burned on the square that night, it was a body you stole from the morgue, without a name or family to take claim of

you watched from a roof in the distance, satisfied beyond expectation, a small smile gracing you lips

‘a glorious exit from this chapter of my life’

you were ready to climb off the roof and disappear from this life when you stopped dead in your tracks after hearing a deep voice behind you

“Where do you think you are going, Warlock?” You winced at the name. Even after almost three years you still hated that name. Slowly you turned to see Batman, the dark knight himself only a few feet away from you. He was barely visible with the dark night sky behind him but the street lights below made it easier to make out his silhouette. “Leaving my villainous ways behind to start new?” You questioned back but it sounded more like a statement. He stepped closer and you started to make out more of his face, well what wasn’t covered by his mask. He was massive, built like a dark brick wall and towering over you. You would be lying if you’d say you weren’t afraid and a little turned on by it. His head tilted slightly to the left. Curiosity. “Why the sudden change of heart?” You huffed. “Oh please, it wasn’t hard or sudden. I was planning this for a while. Besides that, I always had doubts about this whole villain thing. You know it’s fun being an asshole from time to time, especially after this city branded me as their villain when I didn’t have control over my powers. Calling me awful things which I had to see every day in the news or while walking down the streets, coming by the newspaper stands. It hurted, but I am done with being hurt and I am done being the monster they made me.” You took off your mask and flung it across the roof at Batman which hit his chest before he caught it with his hand. His head straightened and something in his eyes changed. “Should I for god knows what reason start again, arrest me. You know how I look.” And with that you jumped off the roof, leaving behind a baffled Batman who clutched your mask tightly in his hand.

A New Start: Normal Life

living a normal life was relieving

you didn’t have to constantly think how you would terrorize the city, you had much more free time at hand to continue hobbies you haven’t indulged in for years and learn to be happy again

it was something you didn’t expect you would miss this much until you had the time to do it again

your job at the small bookshop of the Flemmings seemed to bring you more joy from day to day and you talked more with them instead of just doing your job for the hours they paid you

they warmed up to the new you extremely quickly and pushed you further on the path in the right direction

you suddenly found the courage to contact old friends who immediately welcomed you back into their arms

it was truly the best time of your life, even if the nightmares still plagued you at night

but you still felt weird at times, like you were watched, it wasn’t constantly but it was often enough that you knew it wasn’t just a feeling and you didn’t dare reach out with your magic in fear that someone might witness

after all this was supposed to be your new start at life, your second change, so you ignored it

It was just another day in Gotham, the sun breaking through the clouds for the first time in three weeks. You smiled, face turned upwards towards the bright blue sky, enjoying the warmth on your skin and the one growing inside of you. You strolled through the small park close to the bookshop. Lately you found pleasure in taking your lunch break to the small green sanctuary in this grey city. Flowers in different colours started to bloom in the made flower beds, distributing their calming and pleasant scent. A beautiful change of scenery. Indulging in the scene around you you didn’t notice the person heading in your direction until you collided with them which promptly sent you falling on your butt. Trying to catch your fall your hands shot back, scraping them up in the process. “Ouch.” You mumbled as you pulled your hands back. They were littered with scraps which slowly started to bleed, the little stones in them making the sting more unpleasant. “I am so sorry, I should have looked where I was going.” A voice came from above you, sounding as smooth as polished marble. You didn’t have to bother looking up as the person in front of you crouched down to your level. It was a man who seemed to be around your age, maybe one to two years older, with black hair and crystal blue eyes. It took you a moment before you shook off the stun and gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s fine, I wasn’t exactly looking either.” The man offered to help you up which you gladly took. Carefully he took you by the elbows and pulled you up with him. Suddenly you were confronted by the wall this man was built like. For a second you had the feeling of a deja vu, but it left as soon as it came. You gave him a coy smile and a thanks. You haven’t felt such a feeling in ages and it seemed that he did neither because he returned your smile in almost the same way, maybe with a bit more confidence behind his. “May I look at your hands?” You only nod, not trusting your voice to not break like a teenage boy's one in it’s prime time. He carefully looked at them before suggesting going to a nearby cafe and cleaning up your wounds. You were unsure if you should trust him or not but your more expanded senses took those worrying thoughts from you. They couldn’t detect anything sinister from him. “Sounds good, but only if you buy me a drink. After all, I didn't get these injuries all on my own.” You didn’t know where this confidence came from or the smirk you gave him but he seemed to like it. “I think that’s only fair. I am Bruce, by the way.” “I am (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you Bruce.” “Likewise.”

that was the first of many dates you and Bruce would go on

after helping to clean up your hands and buying you coffee Bruce walked you back to the bookshop, it gave you two time to talk for a while and find more interest in each other

so you didn’t hesitate when he asked for your number and gave it to him on the spot before he left

“thought you might never ask”

he laughed at it but he was smitten with you, and you with him

he took you on dinner dates, dates to the movies and to some nice strolls through the park or the country site with a picnic planned and ready

it truly opened your eyes to what you missed out on over the years you spend alone and in misery, you never wanted to go back to that dark place in your life

but what you didn’t know was that he knew who you were, what you were, and he kept it all to himself

for now at least

Relationship: Wife and Mother

it has been a few months since you started to date Bruce and everything was going smoothly

and when you were out on one of your walks you saw a flyer to a circus that was in town

“‘Haly's circus presents the Flying Graysons right here in Gotham City’ let’s go there Bruce! I am sure it will be fun.”

“Really darling? A circus?” Bruce gave you one of his side looks but you didn’t care

“Please?”

and there the puppy dog eyes came

he could never say no to you so to the circus you went

but it wasn’t fun at all

you wanted to scream when it happened, reach out with your powers, try and catch them but your body went stiff and then their bodies hit the ground

Bruce pulled you to his chest making you look away but you still heard the shocked gasps and screams from the audience and that distinct child voice calling out through it all

“Mom! Dad!”

oh no...

the police came and everyone was questioned before you were allowed to leave

Alfred arrived rather quickly to pick you two up but you couldn’t help yourself and just leave like that without knowing about the kid

“Excuse me, officer? What is going to happen to the boy?”

“The Grayson kid? He is probably going to be put in foster care or something.”

you looked over to Bruce with big eyes and you didn’t have to say anything, he was thinking the exact same thing

so you adopted Dick, but it came with side problems

if you and Bruce both wanted to adopt him, you either had to be married or a registered couple which meant living together among other things

so you had a talk

“What are we going to do Bruce? We can’t just get married and move in with each other in two days!” You were in Bruce’s office back at the manor talking about the new issue at hand, You were quite hysterical because of the horrible woman back at the centre. “I don’t want him to go through foster care, I know you have heard stories about it.” Bruce let out a sigh and stood up from his seat, coming around the table to your pacing from. “Darling, you need to calm down.” He put his large hands on your shoulders and stopped you from continuing running streaks in his carpet. “I promise you we are going to get him but for that we need to have a cool head and figure things out.” You looked up into his eyes and could see the softness and determination in them. It calmed you, not by much but it did it’s part. You nodded and took in a deep breath before you gave him a small smile. Gently he led you to one of the big arm chairs and he made you sit, kneeling down in front of you. It gave you another deja vu to your first meeting which made your heart skip a beat. You put a hand on his cheek and leaned in to give him a short kiss. You stayed close and layed your forehead against his. “I know and I’m sorry I am freaking out but he is… I don’t know, I just feel something.” The way you spoke this last word made Bruce stiffen. He knew there was something more behind those words, connected to your powers, which you haven’t exactly told him about yet. “Everything will be alright. I already worked something out.” You leaned back and gave your boyfriend a questioning look. “We are both not ready to get married just yet, we still have a lot to figure out before that, but I won’t let him get away. I will put adoption papers for him in on my own. Hey, don't look at me like that. If we get married in the future you can then put in an adoption paper to be his legal mother. It would be easier that way and he didn’t have to spend another day in the care of those people.”

you agreed to his plan and so Bruce adopted Dick and brought him home

it was a difficult and troubling time after that

Dick was plagued with nightmares and filled with anger and sadness

you, Bruce and Alfred all tried your best and help him through this but sometimes it would backfire on you guys

over time his outburst died down and he accepted your approaches on helping and calming him

he took the fastest to you

you understood being traumatized and plagued with nightmares after such an event, being marked for life by it

whenever you were at the manor, which happened more and more often after he became part of your life, he would come to you in the middle of the night

you would take him to yours and Bruce bed and cuddle with him, telling him stories from when you were a child and what you read about

it always calmed him and being in your arms made him feel safe

when Bruce would come home from his patrols he would see the two of you in bed sound asleep and happy which made his heart burst

he couldn’t understand how he was able to get this lucky and he knew right away that he would marry you and make you Dick’s official mother

it only took a few more months before he popped the question

by then you had already moved into the manor with them and were more happy than ever

but the proposal was more than you expected because Bruce decided it was also the best idea to tell you he was Batman and that he knew about your secret identity

You blinked once, twice. What the fuck?! You were standing in the middle of the batcave with Bruce in front of you, an apologetic look on his face. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Really Bruce?! You-” You put your hand in front of your mouth and turned around, walking a few steps before facing him again. “You knew this whole time about my past and never said anything? All this time I thought you would leave me as soon as I told you and you knew. You knew!” You pointed an accusing finger at Bruce who looked away, maybe he should have eased you into this but Bruce sometimes had the emotional range and understanding of a teaspoon, a very small teaspoon. “I am sorry (Y/N), but I hoped you would tell me on your own terms but knowing now how you felt this wasn’t my brightest idea, but I told you about this because I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I don’t want to have secrets between us.” You looked at Bruce with an unreadable expression which made him slightly uncomfortable. He was going through multiple scenarios in his head on what this meant and what you would probably say next but what came next was at the bottom of his list. “You want to marry… Me? You want me?” His brain short circuited. Of course he wants to marry you. Who wouldn’t? You were incredible in his eyes and as we all know Bruce has a thing for redeemable people. You were everything he ever wanted. “Of course I want you, who else would I want? You are perfect.” Without hesitation you flung yourself at him and made him fall back, kissing him hard. Oh what a feat to bring the dark brick wall crumbling down.

so you got married in privat with Dick, Alfred and a few close friends

and the first thing you did after getting married was put the papers in to become Dick’s legal mom

hell you even did it before your honeymoon

determination was definitely something people described you with

Family Life: Gaining and Losing another child

over the years thing progressed well

you opened your own shop, a little cafe combined with a bookstore in one of the “nicer” parts of Gotham

Bruce continued his night activities and Dick joined as his sidekick Robin

at first you were against it because he was just barely hitting his teenage years when he started but Bruce convinced you, promising nothing would happen to him

which was true for the most parts until Dick turned 18 and decided to become his own vigilante and took up the mantle of Nightwing while enrolling himself in the Police Academy

you couldn’t be more proud and concerned

and then one night Bruce came home with a young boy in tow who he introduced as Jason Todd, who stole the tires of the batmobile

oh you liked him already

the adoption went smoother than with Dick and suddenly you had a second son with the incredible gift of getting in trouble without even trying

he of course trained with Bruce as well but this time you were a bit more relaxed about the Robin thing

after all the first go through went smoothly

even if Jason wasn’t the easiest to handle you managed

on days where everything was slow in your shop you would pick up Jason from school instead of Alfred and would spend the afternoon driving around the city having fun

Jason absolutely adored you

and he enjoyed nothing more than your Mother and Son trips

sometimes you would get fast food and lots of ice cream while other times you two would get into trouble intentionally

you weren’t the best influence on each other but you learned a lot of things together and hey, as long as Bruce and Alfred don’t know who cares?

sometimes Bruce would get jealous when you spend all your free time with Jason and visiting Dick but when you sensed it you would ease him, spending some time with him

don’t get me wrong he loves the boys and makes trips with them too but sometimes he wants time with you alone

so date night was put into place just for the two of you

it helped a lot and he was much more happy

for two years this continued without much bumps in the road

until your world stopped mid spin

you and Alfred were in the Batcave worried sick after Jason has gotten kidnapped by the Joker and you didn’t hear anything from Bruce in hours

he was looking for him on his own and not getting updates was excruciating

so when the Batmobil came rolling into the cave Alfred breathed a sigh of relief but you stopped

something wasn’t right

and when Bruce came climbing out of the car, hood down and a still body in his arms you knew

you screamed and cried, denying that your boy, your son, was dead

you screamed at Bruce because he promised you he wouldn’t let anything happen to him and then you cried over Jason’s still and cold body

it took hours until you calmed down but you wouldn’t leave his side

Alfred had to pry your exhausted frame away and up the stairs before you broke down again, too tired to cry or scream like you did before

Bruce was nowhere in sight and so you locked yourself in a room for three days until the funeral was held

during it you kept away from Bruce but afterwards you couldn’t avoid him, he didn’t let you

it took a long talk and some more crying and screaming from your side until things were bearable between the two of you

it took weeks until you shared your bedroom with Bruce again

you didn’t banish him to the couch per say, he did that to himself as a punishment, but you simply didn’t want to share your bed with him after everything

it took time but you forgave him

it wasn’t his fault Jason died, it was the Joker’s, all of it

and what you forgave was that he couldn’t keep his promise on keeping Jason safe

and both of you came to the terms that there wouldn’t be another Robin, the risk of something happening to high

and after such an traumatic lose your nightmares came back

the fire, the screams, it consumed you once again but this time your dreams were laced with the screams of Jason

it broke you and you clung to Bruce, Alfred and Dick

Dick wasn’t as close to Jason as he should have been, he was too busy handling his own normal life and vigilante one, living on his own for the first time, but he grieved too so he let his mom pester him more

he understood, she didn’t want to lose him too

for a while he moved back into the manor to help keep an eye on you and things

keeping you away from Jason’s room and your lonely thoughts

and then Tim entered the picture

A New Time: Horting Children

Tim approached Bruce and Dick with the knowledge of who they were, asking to become the new Robin and help in fighting crimes and become one of the greatest detectives in the worlds

when he got a no he decided to not accept it and do it anyway

and he was really good

neither Bruce nor you liked the idea of another Robin but you couldn’t keep him from continuing so might as well take him in to keep an eye on him

and so you got your third son

you made it your personal mission to dot over him and try to keep him safe as much as possible

Tim was the only one of your children who warmed up to Bruce before you

you weirded him out a bit in the beginning but it didn’t took long for him to love and appreciate your efforts, even when they were too much at times

doting on Tim and Dick helped you keep your mind off of Jason for a while

and when it toned down both of your boys became concerned

“Okay so Mom only called me once a day for the last two weeks and it starts to weird me out.” Dick explained while rummaging through his fridge. He had asked Tim to stop by after school because he was worried and needed to talk with him about some stuff. Now, while talking, he was looking for food they could eat. “She also stopped regulating my coffee and sugar intake. She only reminds me to not drink too much.” Now speaking it out loud he realized it too. She drew back quite an amount, giving him and apparently Dick more space and free time. “It is weird.” “See! I told you something wasn’t right!” The older of the brothers closed the fridge door and leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “Maybe we should talk to Dad or Alfred.” “What if Mom realized that it is not limiting our chances of getting hurt and stopped because she saw it was no use.” Dick blinked a few times at his statement. “That’s ridiculous.” Tim sighed. This was going to be a long afternoon without food and Dick basically pestering him in a more annoying way than their mom ever did.

but he turned concerned when he came home that evening and saw you in a room that was locked before

a boys room

he heard you softly cry with a small smile, holding a photo which he presumed was of his older brother he never got to meet

“Mom? Are you alright?” You looked up to see your youngest standing in the doorframe, unsure if he should come closer or not. You whipped away your tears and smiled softly. “Yeah, just remembering some stuff. Wanna hear about it?” Tim only nodded and you patted the spot next to you on the neatly made bed. He hesitated before walking over and taking place beside you. Now he was able to see the picture which contained Alfred, Bruce, Dick, you and what he assumed was Jason. You were all happy and laughing in the picture. It was taken by night, a carnival or fair seen in the background and the lights of the city. “This picture was taken on Jason’s 14th birthday. It was down at the peers when the fair was held. He wished to go there and who were we to deny him that wish. Dick was able to tag along that day because he had off and it was one of the most fun days we all got to spend together. I am sure you would have enjoyed it too.” Tim nodded and took the picture from you. He listened to every story you were comfortable and happy enough to share with him and it dawned more and more on him that everything you did had a specific reason behind it. Even pestering him to be safe and looking after himself and he felt guilty for not always listening. Without a word of warning he turned to you and hugged you tightly. It took you by surprise but you gladly reciprocated it and gently ran your hand up and down his body. “You alright there? This came out of nowhere.” “Mhm, just wanted to let you know I love you, mom.”

your heart melted at his words and everything seemed a bit more brighter after that

you told Bruce that evening what had transpired while lying beside each other

“Do you think he did something and is afraid of telling us? Why else would he say something like that so suddenly and listen to my ramblings on his own accords?”

he just chuckled and shook his head

“Darling, maybe he thought he wasn’t saying it often enough? Don’t read too much into it.”

“You said the same thing when Dick and Jason did those things and the next day we usually got a call from the school or god knows who!”

he was silent for a moment, contemplating and reminiscing about the mentioned past events

“You are right, he totally did something.”

in fact it turned out that he didn’t which kept you and Bruce wondering for a long while afterwards

but it wasn’t a too long stretch until you had to wonder about because a new child joined your family

Cassandra Cain, you first and only daughter

she was by far the toughest in the bunch

you took her in after she saved Commissioner Gordon when someone made an attempt on his life which you later found out was Cassandra’s biological father

but you didn’t judge her by her past or her family history, nor did you judge her by her inabilities

she couldn’t talk nor read, write or really process what anyone was saying

so you tried your best to learn her language and understand her

and sometimes you would use your magic to help the both of you understand one another

it was one of the rare moments when they came in handy and you used them

but taking her under your wings was also a difficult challenge because some of your family members were not quite ready for someone new in the family

so you tried even harder to make her feel comfortable and train with her

it was also during that time that she took on the mantle of Batgirl and that she took a liking to Barbara who had started to date Dick

it would take a while until Cass learned to understand and speak which was helped by her new found friend Stephanie

we will not go too far into Steph’s and Tim’s on and off relationship but through Steph he warmed up to Cass over time

it was probably the wildest ride with Cass and you had to stop and help your husband understand her and her motives more often than not

having a teenage daughter had Bruce on edge almost constantly

“Just watch her, quietly, you will understand her sooner or later. It’s the thought that counts.”

and it did count because after she ran away to fight her biological mother and act out her death wish she came back and she committed to this new found family and learning to understand them

it made your heart swell every time you heard her talk, even if it was broken and imperfect, it was perfect for you

fights of course occurred too

after all teenegers do have their moments and so did your boys

but oh man were Cassandra’s the wildest screaming fits you and your husband witnessed

she might not be able to talk fully but Steph and Dick sure teached her some swear words

family weekends and trips would either turn out very good or very bad

and then a new vigilante turned up to Gotham under the name of Red Hood

Bruce was concerned about this because Red Hood didn’t mind killing the people he captured and as the person that Bruce is he couldn’t accept that

it was during one evening when you were out late wrapping up some stuff for Bruce at Wayne Enterprise that you met the Red Hood and your heart stung

it was the feeling of knowing and grieving which rose inside of you and you couldn’t help but let out the name in a soft whisper

“Jason…?”

he turned around to you and although you couldn’t see his reaction because of the helmet he was wearing, but his posture and demeanor told you everything

this was your boy, alive and back from the dead

he vanished and you were left stunned in the streets with the mens he half beat to death

it took you hours to get home after this, making your husband, kids and Alfred worried sick

the only thing you said to them was ‘it was him’ before going to your room

you didn’t mention it to the others again, even when Bruce and Alfred persisted

was it all just a trick your mind played on you or was it truly him?

you became your answer the next night when you couldn’t sleep and roamed the corridors, coming by Jason’s old room which had it’s door slightly ajar

you opened it fully to see the person inside of it

he held the same picture you did so many times

his helmet was off and the mask he wore underneath

he knew you were standing there but he feared looking at you

why? he didn’t knew

but when you approached him and gently took his face in your hands, whipping away his tears it was like you also whipped away his fears

“Hey mom…”

“Hey troublemaker.”

it was so soft and comforting to hear his nickname again after these three long years, crawling out his own grave and training with the League of Assassins

he embraced you, not letting go of the warmth he missed for so long

and you weren’t letting go either

your boy was back home

and even if he was different from the boy you raised he was still you son

he fought a lot with Bruce, even beating him up once outside on patrol when his frustration and anger about his death got the best of him, and Bruce endured it, hugging him afterwards, because after all these years he still blamed himself that Jason got hurt

and eventually Jason would forgive Bruce, after everything that happened, but it would be strained for a long while

You were gently cleaning the wounds from the beating Bruce got by Jason, frowning in concern while looking at your husband. You were alone in the batcave, having sent up your younger once to bed and Dick and Jason home. Even Alfred gave you two some privacy, knowing you had some things to talk about. You wringed out the bloodied washcloth over the bowl and turned back to Bruce’s face. Carefully you cleaned the cut on his jaw, speaking for the first time in a while. “Why did you let him do that?” “I had to, he needed to let it out and I was ready for it.” “Oh Bruce…” He took your hand that was holding the washcloth and pulled it down. His eyes held so much emotion, it was a sight you were all too familiar with but which your children rarely got to see. Their dad being vulnerable. Sometimes it would make your heart beat faster and sometimes it would shatter it into million pieces. Just like now. “I deserved it and maybe now he will forgive me. You did even when I thought you hated my guts after what happened. And if I know anything about Jason is that he learned only the best from you.” There it was. The dark vigilantes did have a sweet and caring side. A side that would break too, just as it would burst out in happiness, contentment and sadness, as it would be filled with pain and misery and absolute despair. You still wondered why he wouldn’t let your kids see it, or so rarely. Whatever it might be you sure would push it out of him more around them.

life slowly continued in a new way

everything slowly became a normal

Jason started to get to know his new siblings more and spend more time with Dick too

Dick had learned after Jason’s death that his siblings were more important than he thought

he became the third greatest mother hen after you in the bat family, no one topping Alfred

but life just works in very different ways because it graced you with another son, a son that was your husband’s biological son, and who was younger than your relationship with him

“Did you really cheat on me?” “Darling I never cheated on you and I would never do such a thing to you!” “Then why is this boy claiming to be your son and why does his DNA match with yours?!” “I don’t know but please believe me I would never do this to you. You mean everything to me.” “I need a break.” You packed a bag full of your stuff in less than ten minutes and left the manor within the hour. You needed to get your head clear before having any reasonable talk with him about this topic whatsoever. Your emotions were going 100mph on a rollercoaster from sadness, to anger, to hurt, to frustration and so on. The first person you called after this was your oldest Dick because you knew if you called Jason he would beat up his dad once again, and the last time wasn’t that long ago. Dick picked up on the second ring. “Hey mom, how’s it going?” He sounded as happy and chipper as ever. Oh poor boy, you were going to ruin his day so bad. “Your dad may have cheated on me and now has a blood son. Can I stay with you in Bludhaven for a few days?” You heard nothing on the line before Dick started to stammer. “I- What the- Sure but-” “Great I am on my way my little bird, don’t tell your brothers and sister, okay? Especially not Jay, he might beat him up again. Be there in two hours. Love you.” With that you hung up and left Dick completely baffled standing in the middle of the presidium he worked at in Bludhaven. One of his co-workers shook his shoulder to get him out of the trance. “You alright Grayson? Looks like you are about to puke.” Lucas said while looking him over. Dick slowly turned his head towards him. One of his hands still clutching the phone raised right beside his ear. “I might.” He simply answered before going to his superior to request the next few days off because of a family emergency. No questions were asked as they saw his ghost white face and sent him on his way home. During the short walk he immediately called Barbara to ask her to look into it while he figured shit out with his mom. Understanding the situation she agreed right away.

Bruce was left with a confused Cass, Tim and Damian in the mansion

not knowing how to handle this he questioned Damian before deciding he would go in search of Talia Al Ghul to find out what the hell she did and save his marriage with you

because he would be a wreck without you in his life

and he knew you would take the kids and his whole fortune if you guys should ever get divorced, and Alfred

Alfred tried to keep the three kids in the mansion contained and out of trouble while Bruce and you were out but when Jason got wind of it all hell broke loose

and by that time you were already two days into your stay with Dick

it was a pleasant change and it made you realize how long you haven’t spend quality time with your oldest son

you finally got around to teaching him the basics of cooking and baking and he enjoyed it

he also enjoyed being pampered by you again, more than he should have, but as we know he is a child in an adult body, what did you expect

so when Jason suddenly bursts through the door all mad and ready to kill you knew he found out

you calmed him down while Dick watched over the food on the stove, explaining exactly what went down and telling him you might actually do believe Bruce that he didn’t cheat

“YOU BELIEVE HIM?!” “Sorry mom but now I am on Jason’s side.” You sight at your two oldest antics and sat down on top of the counter. “I have known your dad for many years now, we have been together for over a decade and I trusted him blindly throughout everything because he did the same. He loved me despite my troubled past and what I have done. Since he proposed to me all these years ago we never had secrets from each other. So yeah I do kinda believe your father, at least the cheating part.” “But how can you be sure?” “I mean Clark has a son that was grown in a lab by his DNA for god's sake. Everything is possible with the right resources and a little blood.” “You are too pure and naive for this world, mom.” “Believe me Dick, I am not, you just don’t know.” “Okay now I want to hear about that troubled part.” “Jason…” “Jason!” “Alright okay, geez. You got way too much from mom.”

Jason decided to stay with you much do Dick’s dismay

but it turned out alright

another two days later Dick got news from Barbara that the only thing she found was that at the time Damian was supposedly conceived Bruce was on a mission in Tibet

Dick didn’t knowing what to do with this information

on one side he thought that Bruce could have definitely cheated on that mission but the other side told him that your explanation could be what had happened there

besides that he could see from day one how much you and Bruce loved each other and he always wanted to have a relationship with someone like the two of you had

he was torn

and then another person showed up at his apartment door

where were all those people coming from

in front of the door was an almost carbon copy of Bruce standing, just much more smaller and angry looking

“Who are you?”

“TT, none of your business. I am here to talk to my father’s wife.”

so that was the secret love child, he could have guessed

when Damian spotted you in the apartment he just walked in without getting an invitation

little bitch

he stepped right in front of you and Jason who were sitting on the couch

you were thoroughly confused and stunned

“Damian, what are you doing here? You should be in the manor.” Even if you didn’t like the idea that he was the son of your husband you couldn’t help being worried. Raising four children, all in various stages of what the fuck is wrong with their life, made you worry no matter who the child belong to. “I came here to talk to you about how I was conceived.” He sure as hell was just as blatant and honest as Tim. Jason and Dick looked at each other with a glance that could only be described as ‘what the hell is this child’. Damian stared at you, waiting for an answer and you simply nodded. “Alright, tell me.”

and that he did, all of it he got to hear from his mother

to say you were worried and angry beyond comprehension would be an underestimation

you were worried about Bruce, now knowing what had happened to him on that mission which he couldn’t even remember

and angry at Thalia for not only doing that to your husband but also telling a ten year old child about this

you immediately packed your back and told your two oldest to go down with Damian to Dick’s car

you were taking the trip back to the manor, hoping Bruce would already be back from his own trip

sadly he wasn’t so you waited in the batcave, knowing damn well that Bruce wouldn’t go through the front door after he would find out

and you were right, as always

he came back late in the night through the secret entrance on the outskirts of the property

he saw you sitting in his chair in front of the computers

Bruce couldn’t do anything but stare at you, he would have never thought you would come back on your own

when you realized he was there you turned in his direction

a small and sad smile on your face

“I know what happened. Damian came and told me.” You spoke carefully and softly, feeling that if you would say it in any other tone you might scare Bruce. You knew from experience that he could be vulnerable and scared. And just as you were before he was relieved, concerned and angry. Sensing the changes in his mood you stood up and slowly walked over to him. When you were close enough Bruce dropped his bag and pulled you in a hug. You hugged back as tightly as you could, the two of you swaying from left to right for a while. A silence lay between you but it wasn’t uncomfortable as you might have thought. “It also makes sense now, you know… When you came back all groggy and tired, thinking you were sick because you felt a sting and couldn’t remember much… I am sorry.” “There is nothing you have to be sorry for. Let’s just stay like this for a while, okay?” You nodded against his chest, holding each other until you were comfortable with letting go.

you two were stronger than ever after that

in the end Tim and Cassandra found out as well what had happened and how the story went

your kids were shaken up by it as well, in a different way then Bruce or you might but still, something like that happening to their father was...

they couldn’t believe it

after the whole ordeal of those few days Damian officially started staying with your family

and it didn’t take long for the media to find out about Bruce Wayne’s blood son who wasn’t from his wife

they tore through the subject for months

but neither of you cared, you knew the truth and that was enough

Bruce started training Damian to become the next Robin

it was difficult and intense because like Cassandra, Damian was trained to be a killer and getting that mindset out of someone can be hard

and he got way more frustrated but unlike Cass he could say it and a lot of hurtful things

and sometimes instead of letting it out on Bruce he let it out on others, including you

raising fully adopted children was in a way easier because there was no awkward ‘that’s my actual parent and you are not’, it was both the same

but Bruce was Damian’s biological father and you were his step mother

sometimes you felt like he hated you, despised you, and it hurted because Damian could actually be sweet like he was with Titus, the dog Bruce bought for him

but you continued being nice and caring towards Damian nonetheless

which he deemed as weird enough to come question you about while you were playing on the grand piano

You were humming a melody quietly in the bare room, gently letting your fingers glide over the keys of the piano, finding the right one before pushing it to let the sounds run free. Moments like these were like medicine for your soul, soothing aches and making you forget about that they were ever even there, at least for a while. Concentrating on the music you were creating you didn’t sense a presence joining you in the room. Usually you would be able to sense everything around you, powers or not, because the atmosphere would feel different. Living for years with secret vigilantes made you sensible for their quiet advances, excluding Jason on most occasions because his sound level would normally never go under being able to hear his heavy boots down the bloody corridor at 2am. But this time the music was everything your hurt soul could take in at once. Damian was standing in the doorway to the room watching you play, listening to the soft play and hum. Back in Nanda Parbat everything was quiet and not very pleasant for Damian, but it was what he was used to. This softness and calming sensation was alien to him. He hated it, but then he didn’t. Why don’t I hate this? Damian ignored the feelings and walked towards you until he was standing right next to your still playing form. By now you knew he was there but you needed to finish getting it out, and he waited, not saying anything. When you were done you took a moment before looking up. “Do you need anything, Damian?” You gave him one of your warm and inviting motherly smiles. “Why are you nice to me?” You blinked in confusion. “Excuse me?” He sighed, looking annoyed. Oh no, here we go again. “TT, why are you nice to me? There is no reason for you to be. You should hate me.” Oh. “Well Damian, for me there are lots of reasons to be nice even if people don’t deserve my kindness.” The boy in front of you straightened his posture, he tried to still look annoyed and cold but nobody in this household could mask their emotions from you. “But the reason I am nice to you is because even if you are not my son, you live in our home with us, and I raised your brothers and sister, even if they were not biologically mine. Because they don’t need to be, they still are my children. I choose them and they choose me and I see you as one of them too. No matter if you despise me or just dislike me.” You flipped down the cover of the keys and stood up. You stepped over the bench and pushed it in, all the while Damian stared at you with confusion and something you could only imagine was identifying admiration. You gave him another gentle mom smile before looking up at the clock hanging over the giant wooden door. “Right on time, the cookie dough is finished chilling.” Your gaze wandered back to Damian. “Do you wanna help me?” Your mind wasn’t prepared for the nod you got from him but it surely was a step in the right direction making you feel better about the situation. Maybe, and that was a hard one, he didn’t dislike you.

and oh boy became that hard maybe a ‘I think he sees me as someone he can might trust’ rather quickly

after that event Damian started spending more time with you and getting to know you

something inside of him didn’t want to, simply because he wasn’t supposed to trust anyone and have major feelings

but he developed them anyway and replaying what you said over and over in his head made him feel like that forming a bond wasn’t that bad

sure he didn’t see you as his mother yet but he saw you as a person he could confined in

like Alfred was to everyone in the Wayne household or associated with it

and it made your heart swell

on days were Damian really wanted to do something with you were you already had something to do or planned, like work or spending time with one of his siblings, he would simply tag along

especially the ones with Jason because it annoyed him the most and you usually put him in his place when he called Damian a ‘demon spawn’

yeah he enjoyed those

it would take until Talia attacked the family and tried to kill Damian that he would see you as his mother

The batcave was in absolute chaos, things were blown to pieces, glass from the screens all over the ground… And so were your children. The League of Assassins was all over Gotham wrecking havoc to draw out almost everyone from your family they could. In the beginning it was only Alfred, Damian and you who stayed back. Bruce didn’t want the risk of the assassins getting to Damian because it was clear they were after him, but that only played out in their favour. After Talia showed up Alfred contacted the others, but right after it she knocked him out. The fight between Damian and Talia drew out before the others showed up and joined the fight but it was all in vain. She beat them all one by one with their own weapons and fighting style. And now she was standing over Damian, blade drawn ready to strike. You had enough. “Hey! How about you fight someone your own size who isn’t a child!” Talia looked over her shoulder, dark and hungry eyes fixed on you while the blade was still pointing at Damian. She wasn’t the only one staring at you. Jason and Tim were on one side of the cave, Jason holding up his younger brother who had gotten a nasty cut to his side, while Cassandra leaned over Dick, pressing a cloth onto a stab wound he had in his leg, still on high alert. All of their eyes were on you. “You are no match for me.” Talia’s voice was full of confidence and mockery. “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.” Your voice was ice cold. Nothing in your stance let it seem you were afraid or would back down. Your stance was relaxed, eyes only focused on her and no one else, arms lazily hanging at your sides. The assassine across from you hated it. She turned around to fully face you and came a few steps closer in your direction. “I am not afraid of a little housewife who spends most of her life babying her children.” “There you are wrong. I was this city's worst nightmare before the Joker even graced it’s street.” The eyes of your children widened in shock. “And you not only trespassed in it, but also in my home. You injured my children and tried to kill one of them and I”, your eyes started to glow in a deep red, “want” ,you raised your hand and slowly a same deep red energy formed between your hands, “you”, Talia’s eyes widened as she realized what you were, “gone.” With that you released the energie towards her. She flew 20… 30… 50… feet before hitting the wall, making cracks appear from the impact, before falling to the ground unconscious. Right around that time Bruce came rushing into the cave witnessing your display of power, something he hasn’t witnessed in years. Everything was dead silence and motionless. You could have heard a needle drop and it would have shook the earth and walls around you like an earthquake. The crackling energy around your hands and eyes vanished and you rushed over to Damian. Kneeling in front of him you looked him over to make sure he was alright. “Do you have any injuries? Are you bleeding? Are you okay?” Damian stared. His brain is like everyone else's short circuit by the event. You hugged him tight, mumbling ‘my boy is alright’ before letting him go, gently ruffling through his hair before giving your attention to your other children who had sustained injuries. But while you were doing this Damian’s head replayed a new scene from you over and over again. My boy is alright. He was your boy now.

explaining everything to your children was the most complicated thing you have done in all your time of being their mom

the only thing coming close was probably the birds and bees talk but that is a whole other thing we will not look back at here too closely (after Bruce scared Dick with his explanation he made you do it, Dick still has nightmares about it)

so you told them your whole villain story, start to finish, it was better laying out everything bare than trying to make it look nice

better terrible truths than kind lies

they have been shocked more than once today so their reactions were not exactly what you expected

“So you were one of the most badass criminals this city has ever seen? I knew I was coming after you, a true delinquent.” Okay, Jason took this a little too well in your eyes, but he seemed happy so that was a good thing, right?. You were definitely going to talk with him later. “I mean, it’s true, but why did you have to phrase it like that?” So Tim was second on your list, great, good to know. “Because it’s awesome.” “I don’t think this is good, I mean mom turning good was good, it is amazing, but she was a criminal.” Dick had the reaction you thought your kids would actually have. At least one of them. One had to be normal… And then Cassandra came. “Hell yeah.” Her eyes shined with glee. Jason grinned and gave her a high five. Number three, alright this is ridiculous. You looked over to Bruce and Alfred, both of them looking slightly concerned while you were absolutely done with almost all of your children. Looking back at the display of all your kids cramped on the couch in the living room only Damian was left. He was quieter than Cassandra which concerned you. Did I scare him when I attacked Talia? You were about to say something before Damian stood up and approached you. If he’d stab you, you would understand. After all that was his mom you almost bludgeoned to death in front of him. But when he reached you he hugged you tightly. Out of reflex you hugged back without asking. “Thank you, ummi.” You needed to talk with him too but for a completely different reason, that being him not only calling you mother and making you cry with it but almost giving you a heart attack.

family time after that was for outsiders who would look in hilarious but for you it wasn’t, example being:

“Jason feet off the table.”

“But you did bad things too, mom!”

“You want me to slam you into the next wall?”

the feet were off the table after that

your kids, no matter what age, all wanted to see what you could do with your powers

hours were spent in the cleaned and rebuilt batcave showing tricks and illusions

“What number am I thinking of?”

“3 460 582.”

“Holy shit-”

“Language Dick.”

overall your children knowing wasn’t so bad

they seemed to listen to you even more than before which was nice

and when you told them you wanted some private time they gave you an extra fives minutes before coming back and bothering you

Bruce also seemed happy about the revelation

a weight was lifted off of both your shoulders with them knowing

you could also use them freely in the mansion now without them having to be gone

carrying heavy stuff from room to room, reaching stuff from high cupboards, doing multiple things at once

a bliss

overall your story to this point was a wild ride and it would only continue like it

or worse, who really knows besides fate

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

Tagging: @melonecc, @hippogreif-joana, @headcans-oneshots-and-stuff

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

Text

Time for Izuku to put his practice into practice.

[No. 52 - Hero Killer Stain vs. U.A. Students]

But first, a word from our sponsors- I mean, Hori. In that, this being the 52nd chapter, this marks the one-year anniversary of the manga being published in Shonen Jump, ergo meaning it was time for a popularity poll! I’ll try to find the results of that one and post it when it would have been revealed. I’m going to take a wild guess now and assume Katsuki was at the top of the poll, because he’s Katsuki and I don’t think there’s been a popularity poll he hasn’t topped.

(Then again, this is before Deku vs Kacchan and his big character development leap, so…)

In addition, we have this lovely cover spread for the chapter in honor of the one year anniversary, and man is it pretty.

Gotta love the angle that suggests All Might’s using his height and long reach in order to get a good selfie shot of the whole class. Might have to color this beauty at some point… hmm…

Anywho, onto the chapter itself. We start off with a small flashback to Izuku in a hurry. He thinks about how he might be overthinking this, and it’s not like he has proof, but that’s exactly why he has to take action here. In the same city where the hero killer appeared, there’s some nomu look-alikes rampaging around. He might be the only one in the city uneasy about the potential connection. The League of Villains and the Hero Killer… could they be working together?

That probably means the hero killer is somewhere around here right now. The fact that Tenya wasn’t dealing with the main incident - could it be he’s found the hero killer?

As those last thoughts finish we see him building up speed, using it to then start bouncing around a corner the way Gran did in the apartment, the time fading back to the present as we catch up to Izuku’s well-timed punch into Stain’s face. Izuku is relieved to have made it in time, skidding to a halt next to Tenya while Stain catches himself. Stain recognizes Izuku as the kid from Shigaraki’s photo. Tenya is surprised at Izuku’s appearance, wanting to know why, well.

Izuku explains how it was on TV - how sixty percent of the hero killer’s victims were discovered around blind corners in deserted areas, so he’s been scouring the back alleys near the Normal Hero agency, close to the center of all the trouble, looking for him. He asks Tenya if he can move, telling him to make for the main road and get some pros to come help them. Tenya tells Izuku that he can’t move, that Stain cut him, which is likely his quirk. Izuku notes that they (the news) were talking about that, and repeating the comment about Stain needing to cut someone to get it to work.

He then notices Native slumped against a wall, and thinks that if it was just Tenya, he might have been able to carry him and run, but…

Tenya interrupts Izuku’s thoughts, telling him not to interfere, and that this has nothing to do with him. Izuku is put out by the hate in Tenya’s expression, wanting to know what he’s saying.

Stain comments on how a friend shows up and says ‘I’m here to save you,’ claiming it to be a good line. But it’s his duty to kill these two, and if they’re forced to fight, then naturally the weaker of them will be culled. So, what now?

Izuku shudders at the intensity of Stain’s killing intent, recalling All Might’s words about idealistic criminals having a different sort of fire in their eyes. Izuku realizes Stain isn’t like the attackers at the USJ - those are the eyes of a killer. He reaches behind himself and manages to pull out his phone, clicking something on screen before tucking it away again. Even with a hunch and no proof, he should have persuaded some pros to come with him. Now he needs to protect the two that are down - maybe buy some time, or if possible, drive off the hero killer all by himself.

That… is not the face of someone who believes he can do that.

Tenya shouts at Izuku that he told him to run, that this is none of his business. Izuku asks what a hero supposed to do when he says crap like that. He’s got a lot to say to him, but that’ll have to come later, because it’s like all might said - giving help that’s not asked for is what makes a true hero.

Izuku’s smiling here to trick the fear inside himself. Stain seems to have decided there is now a second True Hero before himself. Tenya is gritting his teeth, full of self-loathing for being unable to move or do anything. And Izuku moves.

Izuku rushes at Stain, who holds his ground, bringing his sword around to try and hit Izuku or force him to dodge. However, Izuku uses full cowl to instead duck low so that the swing won’t come close. Stain responds by going for a shorter knife to defend himself up close, thinking of how trying to close the gap against his long blade is good judgement. Tenya calls out a warning about being cut, but Izuku considers the situation perfect, dodging right under Stain’s legs and both weapons.

Stain whirls around with his longer blade to block the attack from behind, only for it to miss again, as Izuku has already launched himself up and over Stain’s head - the same trick he used on Gran in order to get in a surprise attack. Stain is confused for a split second at the empty street before he thinks to look up, but that’s already given Izuku enough time to wind up a five percent Detroit Smash, bringing it down right onto Stain’s grinning head.

Tenya recognizes the movements as just like Katsuki’s. Izuku hits the ground on all fours, skidding to a stop as his heart pounds in his chest. He’s shocked and excited that his full cowling works, that he can really fight.

Stain brings up his knife to lick, his quirk activating on Izuku and leaving him paralyzed where he’s crouched. Izuku’s confused and freaked out, trying to figure out if he was grazed, and how a scratch he couldn’t even feel was somehow enough. No, he realizes on a closer glance at the knife, the answer is blood!

Stain tells Izuku that he lacks power… but he did track his movements. He exploited his blind spot, and planned to bring him down. That’s how he moved. So many fools out there are nothing but talk, but Izuku is worth keeping alive - unlike these others. Stain strolls past Izuku towards Tenya, who is watching on with fear and anger. Stain brings his sword up; Izuku swears and tells him to stop, while Tenya grits his teeth and all but growls in defiance.

And then another interruption comes in the form of a massive wall of ice, forcing Stain to dodge back and away. Izuku and Tenya are both surprised, while Stain’s annoyed by the interruptions coming one after another. Shouto holds up his phone, telling Izuku to learn to write more specific directions - he was almost too late.

With that, we end on another Big Damn Hero Moment. And more notably, we get to see Shouto in his new hero costume for the first time, flames coming off his left shoulder while ice clings to his right arm. Looks like he’s also ready to show off some new moves…

Next time, of course. See y’all then.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #readthrough #chapter 52 #hero killer arc #midoriya izuku #Iida Tenya #stain #todoroki shouto

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thewatchau · 3 years

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The Return

Fellow Watchers,

I apologize for the delay in this report. This last week has left me unfortunately ill, and while thankfully not serious, my current inability to breathe through my nose makes the intense journey to Runners’ Haven ill-advised, at best. Nurse Dawn, as you might imagine, can be very convincing when she wants to be.

This report covers the events of December 6, 1616, in which several strange occurrences took place during King Sean’s daily proclamation, both magical and mundane, but all tying back to The Enemy threat.

These strange occurrences began almost immediately after King Sean appeared to speak, when one of the torches on the wall behind the king blew out, only to reignite again. At first, this garnered little attention; the winds on the Monadiah Plains are fierce and unpredictable this time of year, and this strange phenomenon is not uncommon. However, as more and more torches and braziers began to flicker throughout the castle keep and courtyard, it became clear that this is no natural occurrence. A loud knocking sound could also be heard above the murmurs of the crowd.

After a moment, King Sean turned and opened the door back into the keep, presumably to check on the knocking or to inquire of someone within. As soon as the king vanished from sight, several things happened at once.

All of the lights within the keep blew out at once.

A loud, shattering noise could be heard.

And a very familiar magical signature resonated through the castle.

Stronger than has been seen in at least a year, if not more, the magic caused immediate chaos in the courtyard where the crowd had gathered. What happened next is unclear. Watchers with a decent vantage point claim that a red light was emanating from the doorway, where glimpses of King Sean’s prone form could be seen between the jarring flashes of The Enemy’s magic.

Many witnesses claimed that they could feel a sensation akin to fingers crawling over their face, and indeed, the singular magical record of the incident shows a similar phenomenon overlaying the record itself. It is unclear whether this was an illusion meant to unnerve those present, or a side effect of The Enemy’s attempt to grasp hold over the minds of those affected by the Influence Curse. While there is no precedent for either phenomenon to appear in a magical record in such a visual manner, little of The Enemy’s magic has ever abided by the laws of nature or precedence, and the nature of this specific occurrence remains unknown.

The following events are… unnerving at best, not the least because of how inexplicable they are. Both the magical record and several witness accounts depict that King Sean was seen suspended in the air over the courtyard, his body dangling in an undeniably puppet-like manner. An audible crack is heard as his head jerked forward, before his entire body collapsed on the balcony of the keep, as if the strings holding him aloft had been cut.

Worse still, after several moments of terrifying stillness, the body began to move, jerking and twisting unnaturally. Those who witnessed the Overnight Defense or any number of fights with The Enemy’s forces will recognize the movements as eerily similar to how The Enemy’s more deformed, monstrous, or dead puppets rise out of the darkness to attack.

Yet suddenly, before anyone even had a chance to react, the lights returned, and King Sean could be seen standing exactly where he stood before the first light went out, beginning the proclamation as if nothing had occurred.

The strangest thing of all, is that across Duilintinn, particularly in regions where The Enemy has attacked before, rumors began to spread of a strange vision, near-identical to the events of the proclamation. Several dozen Watchers who were not present at the proclamation confirmed that they too, saw this vision, and initial reports would imply that tens of thousands of Duil citizens, Watchers and non-Watchers alike, experienced a similar phenomenon.

King Sean has been declared in good health by the court and seems completely unaffected by these events, at least to the extent that can be detected at the present. However, the fact remains that The Enemy’s magic clearly did something during that proclamation, one that rippled simultaneously throughout all of Duilintinn.

The timing is also unnerving. With the Holiday Celebrations taking place this weekend, many Watchers are now on high alert for a long-feared repeat of the Overnight Defense; an attack upon the capital city of Cordoire during the height of the winter festivities.

At the present, there is little we can do but prepare. Hundreds of Watchers are already planning to attend the Cordoire celebrations, either as revelers, on-duty Watchers, or both. Plans have been in place for over a decade for Watchers to rally inside and outside of the city if another attack were to occur, which is perhaps why none such attack has happened since. The Enemy seems to love nothing more than subverting our expectations, after all.

Regardless, our role now is to remain vigilant and hopeful. Whether we will be called upon to fight or called upon to celebrate during the coming celebrations, we will fulfill our duty as Watchers, cultivating, preserving, and living out the hope, positivity, and respite that Duilintinn has offered to so many. Keep The Watch, and may the charity efforts of the holiday celebrations be fruitful, regardless of what else is to come.

With Anticipation,

Bard Emily Keyes

Written to Fellow Members of The Watch in the Twelfth Month of the Year One Thousand Six Hundred and Sixteen

#tales from the watch #Signs of The Enemy #12/08/2021 #december 1616 #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye egos #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticeye au #antisepticeye #I'M BACK Y'ALL

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coruscantidreams · 3 years

Text

vertigo - chapter 1

pairing: obi-wan kenobi/female reader

summary: A year into the Clone Wars, the Jedi Council, in need of inside information regarding separatist forces, send General Obi-Wan Kenobi on the hunt for a possible, and very reluctant informant.

In the glittering planet of Coruscant, a successful nightclub owner’s new life is threatened with the past.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: none for this chapter!

link for ao3 here

Obi-Wan Kenobi wondered if he would ever have another moment to himself. With the way the Council requested his presence immediately after his latest landing, he was leaning towards ‘no’. He barely had the chance to unpack and was already walking towards the Council Chamber where he was required. Only Yoda and Mace Windu were on Coruscant, the other Masters were off God knows where.

A year into the war and the fighting was in full swing. Mission after mission had Obi-Wan completely, and utterly exhausted. He knew he wasn’t the only one that felt burnt out. The intense pressure of the war was put on every Jedi in the Temple. Their sacred peace keeping ways had been lost, and everyone knew it.

The short walk from his rooms gave Obi-Wan enough time to create a basic mission report in his head. There wasn’t much else he could do. Not with the time they gave him. He would have to write the formal report later.

“Obi-Wan, good, you’re here,” Mace Windu announced as Obi-Wan walked into the Chamber. “We’re glad to hear the negotiations on Breosnas went well. We’ll have to discuss that at a later date. There’s a new assignment for you and it must be done right away. We believe there’s someone who has information on separatist plans.”

Obi-Wan wished they would have asked for the report instead. “Of course, Master,” he said anyway.

“Is there a problem?” Nothing slipped past Windu. Maybe Obi-Wan needed to mediate more often.

He tried not to look defeated. “No, I just didn't expect to leave so soon. I was hoping to spend some time here, on Coruscant.”

Instead of a reply, a holographic image appeared in front of him. “Master, that’s-”

“Yes, it’s her. You see why this assignment is so sensitive, Obi-Wan. The new Knights are too young to remember what happened, and you already know how she feels about the rest of the Council. She’ll be more inclined to help you than any of us,” Windu said, “and, you're in luck. She still lives on this planet.”

“No offence Master, but it’s highly unlikely that she’ll give up information, even if it is me,” Obi-Wan tried. “If she’s still upset and we provoke her, it could push her to help the separatists instead.”

“That may be the case indeed, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to convince her. Do what is necessary.” Windu looked at Obi-Wan, and he knew the mission was not up for debate.

The rest of the Council was in agreement. A possible informant was better than no informant.

“Where do I find her?”

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

As soon as the sun had set, Obi-Wan was flying through the air traffic, the wind whipping through his hair. Miles away from the Jedi Temple was the underground club Vertigo. In recent years, it had become a popular destination amongst the rich and powerful. Separatists and Republic senators alike were frequent visitors. Vertigo was a lively club that kept anyone looking for a good time engaged. Although full of politicians and celebrities each night, there was a certain anonymity they found within the club.

Before Obi-Wan had even reached the club doors, he knew he was out of his element; his senses were overloaded. The shimmering atmosphere the club gave off was far too modern for his taste. Red and blue ambient lighting created a hazy purple sheen over the bar. Crescent-shaped booths in every corner were filled, and exotic plants he couldn’t name if he tried hung from the ceiling. Loud, thumping music had the dance floor packed.

Obi-Wan eyed the room, and searched for an employee. Waving down a bartender, he spoke quickly. “I was wondering if you could direct me to your boss’ office. She and I are old friends, I’m looking to catch up.”

The bartender, Eliamer, her name tag read, eyed him for a second longer than he liked. He thought he might have to use a mind trick before she mumbled a short “follow me” and they were pushing their way to a private elevator. A few awkward minutes later they were in front of an office door.

And that was where Obi-Wan found you.

“There’s a man here to see you, he claims he’s an old friend,” one of your bartenders says, the door to your office swinging open.

You raise an eyebrow.

She pauses. “He’s a Jedi.”

“Thank you, Eliamer. Let him in.” Quickly unlocking your desk drawer, you pull out your blaster, holding it just below the supposed Jedi’s sight. You wonder which Jedi has come for you, after all this time.

You left the Jedi Order eight years ago when you were sixteen. It wasn’t an easy choice, but a necessary one. As a youngling, you were the definition of perfect. Obedient, patient, respectful. Every Jedi wanted you as their Padawan, knowing they’d be lucky to be your Master.

At first, you loved being a Padawan. Becoming a Jedi Knight was all you had ever wanted; ever known. You were dedicated to your training and meditating, finding that it came to you naturally. Your Master was often relentless, and that only pushed you further.

Two years into your training and a simple mission to Alderaan was the beginning of the emotions that would later betray you. You and your Master were sent to guard an at risk Senator. Alone at night, you roamed the palace in hopes of making yourself tired. It was then in a shadowy alcove you witnessed real affection for the first time. Lovers joined, pushing against the wall in passion. All you could do was stare at the couple in awe. You had never seen anything like it; the Jedi celebrated their lack of intimacy.

That night back in your room, all you could think about was the look of sheer pleasure on their faces. The way they looked at each other so tenderly, like nothing else in the galaxy mattered. At that moment, laying in the luxurious royal bed, you knew you could never have that. You would never know what a bond would feel like. It was forbidden, and that was the end.

However, your envy didn’t stop when you left Alderaan. It burned inside of you each day on Coruscant, during every practice and every meditation. The desire to feel a fraction of what they did was overpowering.

You began acting out, hoping that your Master would fix your forbidden emotions. Yet he never did, he just continued to look at you in disappointment. The once perfect youngling was a disobedient teenager with no control.

You believed you were the only one with such emotions, until a frustrated confession with another rebellious Padawan proved otherwise. Hours later, you were pressed into your small mattress, finally receiving the pleasure you had desired for so long.

Months passed, and the secret nights you spent with the other Padawan were frequent. Yet the longing never stopped. It seemed that your desire only grew. You took foolish risks to be together, which could have only resulted in one outcome. The final night you spent together was interrupted by both of your Masters.

By the next day, your lover was expelled from the Order, only to be sent back to his home planet in a system unbeknownst to you. He had far too many infractions, and that was the last straw.

You should have been expelled, and you knew it. Your Master’s pleading was the only thing keeping you in the Order. The possibility that you could once again be the perfect Jedi was a risk the Council took.

Although you had been miraculously saved with only a harsh lecture from the Council, you knew what you had to do. You gathered the few belongings you had, and left the temple to start a new life.

You’ll never admit how hard it was finding work on the streets of Coruscant. Some days you wondered if you even made the right decision. Deep down you knew you would never have passed the trials. Living a lie was something you were not willing to do, and the Council would see it. You hated the other Jedi for what you couldn't do. Giving up your future to the unknown was terrifying. You wanted it both ways; to be a Jedi Knight and have attachments. One wasn't possible with the other, which only made you resent the Jedi more.

Eventually, you found a crowd, leading to the right connections to build a good life for yourself. It took a while, but after your club Vertigo was built, you began to understand the appeal of arrogance. Vertigo was one of the most popular nightclubs on Coruscant.

“I must say, I am surprised to see you,” Obi-Wan says, adding your name as an afterthought. He looks different than you remember. Older, tired maybe. The war has shown no mercy.

“I heard rumours the Council had made you a General. Jedi Master and General now, Kenobi?” You smirk. You and Obi-Wan only knew each other from pleasantries. He was newly ordained as a Knight while you were just beginning as a Padawan. You decide to get right to the point. “Enlighten me General, what are you doing at my club?”

“The Council asks for your assistance. We’re in need of information on the separatists. Vertigo is well known amongst separatist sympathizers. Your intel could prepare us for future attacks,” Obi-Wan explains, his crisp Coruscanti accent almost identical to your own.

You debate on putting your blaster away, not sensing any immediate danger from him, yet you know this could turn into a fight very quickly if you’re not careful. “If you came all this way just to ask me for information, then I’m sorry to inform you that I’m unable to help. Vertigo is a nightclub. Who comes here is none of my business, nor am I willing to spy on my patrons for the sake of the Council.”

Obi-Wan sighs, “Yes, I figured you would say that.”

A look of annoyance flashes across your face before you can mask it. “The Council knew I wouldn’t help, and they still sent you anyway? How pathetic.”

“With all due respect, you chose to leave the Order. Blaming the Council isn’t going to help you now.” He sounds defensive, and you can’t help but wonder if you hit a nerve.

Nonetheless, the statement annoys you. You broke most of your Jedi habits after leaving the Order, though it's easy for you to forget you can show your anger. Still, you pause for a moment to collect yourself. “The Council ruined my life once. I’m not going to let them ruin it again.”

“This is a matter of life or death, and we need your help! I can’t force you to give us information, but a part of you must know that this is beyond just the Council. It’s for the Republic,” Obi-Wan says.

“Do you really think I care about the Republic?” You ask.

“You should,” he replies, “what do you think will happen to you if the separatists lose? I believe a cell at the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center will be waiting for you.”

“You don’t have the authority to do that. Besides, neutrality isn’t a crime.” The grip on your blaster tightens.

“Maybe not, but I’m sure when the senate hears we had a possible informant that refused to help, they’ll want to know everything about you and Vertigo,” he says.

“I thought you said you couldn’t force me to be an informant?”

“You’re right, I can’t force you. The risk is yours to take,” he says.

You glare at him, eyes narrowing. “Alright, General. Let’s say I agree. Am I getting something in return, or is this charity work?”

Obi-Wan refrains from rolling his eyes. “We have nothing to offer you but the reassurance that your information will help us win the war.”

“Let’s go for a drink,” you decide. Obi-Wan begins to protest as you slip your blaster back into your desk, then guide him out of the office doorway, and down to the crowded room.

Back at the bar, you order two cocktails. “You see that guy in the white suit? He’s a warmonger. He gives up any Republic plans he hears to the separatists. For a price of course. That woman, over there, the one in the red dress. She’s a spy. I heard she got close with one of the Republic captains. Oh, and him, the guy standing next to her! He’s an assassin from the Outer Rim. Technically he works for either side, but the separatists pay more.” You take a sip of your violet coloured drink. “Now, I will continue to tell you about every separatist here on two conditions.”

Obi-Wan stares at you. “Go on.”

“I want you to let me into the Council Chamber and the archives,” you say. There wasn’t much you could bargain for, nor that you wanted. You didn’t need money, and this would be far better than anything the Republic could offer.

“You can’t just walk into the Council Chamber!” Obi-Wan looks at you in disbelief.

“I wouldn’t be walking in, you’d be letting me in,” you remind him.

“It’s not happening.” His answer is firm.

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Do you want information or not, General?”

“I can ready a cell for you anytime.”

“Fine.” You give in. “Just the archives.”

Obi-Wan looks at you so earnestly, your palms start to sweat. You feel as though he’s looking directly into your soul, leaving you raw. You know he can force his way past your mental barriers, even if you put up a fight. You definitely won’t get past him, even if you try. Years of practice and strict meditation means he can hold out much longer than you.

“The archives… it’s about him, isn’t it?” he says. It’s not really a question, rather a statement.

Of course Obi-Wan would clue in. You wasted months trying to track down the Padawan boy you loved, with no luck. The archives have records of each Jedi that ever lived in the Temple. If you could just look at them, you’d know which planet he was from, and maybe where to find him.

“The archives will have his information,” you answer.

“If you wanted information, that’s all you had to say. I would be happy to look through the archives for you,” Obi-Wan offers.

You almost laugh at his proposal. “This isn’t negotiable, General. I’ll take my chances when the war is over. I won’t go back on my offer to help, if that’s what you’re worried about. You have my word.”

Obi-Wan looks conflicted, until he knocks back the entirety of his drink. With a wave of his hand, he tells you to continue. You’re not surprised he gives in. The value of what you know is worth the price of letting an ex-Jedi into the archives.

You don’t even know where to begin. Hundreds of patrons pass through Vertigo every day. Looking around the club, you recognize several associated members. The three humans you pointed out to Obi-Wan are regulars. The aforementioned man in the white suit, Kenth, drinks with his outfit of criminals most weekends. You try to avoid the oligarchs, they're far too arrogant for conversation.

The spy, Kandri, is a mystery to you. She’s cunning and beautiful; it's unsurprising she managed to work her way into the depths of the Republic army. Of course, none of that could be true. Espionage is a facade after all.

Troleveen, the assassin, often does business in Vertigo. Rich trade members are always looking to eliminate their problems. Millions of credits have been paid to Troleveen within the club walls. Usually you would frown upon that much money being traded in Vertigo, but it's nice to have an assassin on your side.

For as much as you have heard, most attack plans are kept secret. They rarely pass through Vertigo. If Obi-Wan wants direct knowledge from the Separatist Council, you’ll have to make some inquiries. Count Dooku has never come to Vertigo, and you wouldn't want to know even if he did.

You start by telling him what you already know. Months of secrets and hushed whispers turn into hours of conversation. Memories and credits passed under the table between senators, deadly glances that can only mean one thing, Obi-Wan knows it all. To the rest of the club, it looks like you and a Jedi are having a lengthy, casual conversation. It is well known that you are neutral in the war. No alliances means no enemies.

Still, giving up secrets is not something you want to be caught doing. All you needed was a rumour to spread that you were leaning in one direction, and a bounty would be placed on your head before you could even blink. It makes you wonder if you’re doing the right thing. Being sent to prison is obviously not what you want. You’ve heard about the terrible conditions at the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. Even if you were lucky enough to escape Coruscant, you would be leaving everything you worked for in the past eight years behind. Before Vertigo, your only home had been at the Jedi Temple. Having never known your parents or your home planet, Coruscant was all you had. Thinking about it brought emotions to the surface you’d rather not deal with.

The conversation has mostly come to an end, there isn’t much else to be said. “I believe that’s all I can give you tonight, General,” you say to Obi-Wan. “You’ll have to give me more time to make my inquiries.” With the information you revealed to him, his grasp on the politics the Jedi don’t often hear should be enough for the Council to start with.

“You’ve been quite helpful,” he replies, a certain twinkle in his eye. “You make a promising spy.”

“Hardly. We’ll have to meet at my apartment from now on. A Jedi showing up here every week isn’t good for business.” You can’t help but smile at him. He looks soft, far more relaxed than when he first entered your office hours ago. It could be the alcohol, too. Vertigo only serves the best, possibly illegal liquors.

Business, you remind yourself. That’s all this is. You didn’t necessarily like Obi-Wan, particularly because of his perfect Council obeying behaviour, yet talking to a Jedi again was somehow refreshing. You love your life, it's something you never thought you could have, though there are moments when you wish you could talk to someone who relates to your previous experiences. Your staff knew why you left the Order, but they could never quite grasp it. Understanding the rigid lifestyle inside the Temple walls was something only a Jedi could comprehend. For an ex-Jedi who left due to attachments, you sure are bad at forming them.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan says, “I have to return to the Temple now, I’ll be ready in a week or so. I trust you’ll set a meeting by then?”

You nod in response to his question. “Tell the Council I say hello.”

“Just hello?”

“It’s bad taste to have a messenger for more than ‘hello’ in my case,” you answer.

He shakes his head at you, his stern look more for show than anything. You watch him slip through the crowd and up the stairs, back outside to the streets. The music has been turned up since he arrived, it’s later in the night, and it drills into your head. The bar is mostly empty, everyone has migrated to the dance floor or into the VIP lounge.

Rather than hanging around the bar, you toss back your fourth drink that night and head towards the elevator to your office. You’re tipsy, but not enough to find a stranger to hook up with. The thought itself makes you feel sick. You don’t dwell on that thought, instead you find yourself suddenly exhausted, practically falling asleep right at your desk. With a flick of your wrist the ceiling lights are turned off. You leave your datapad online as always, the blue glow coating the room. The cool glass of your desk calms your heated cheek as soon as you rest against it. Your eyes shut, the drowsiness taking over.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi fanfic #obi wan kenobi/reader #obi wan kenobi/you #star wars

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deborahdeshoftim5779 · 3 years

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BBC Merlin 4x05: His Father’s Son

Here's a round-up of my main observations from BBC Merlin's "His Father's Son" (4x05).

1- MERLIN AS A KNIGHT

I have to admit that Merlin as a sorcerer and trusted adviser appeals to me the most, but I did write a lengthy post analysing how Arthur had turned Merlin into an excellent fighter. This refutes claims that Merlin gave more to Arthur than he received in return.

At the beginning of 4x05, we see Merlin selected to play a new role: that of knight. How did this come about? Arthur Pendragon is best known for his skills as a warrior, but he deserves more credit for his military tactics. These destroy the popular yet false idea that he is unintelligent. More on the latter in a forthcoming post.

One of Arthur’s favourite tactics is using decoys. Previous examples of him using decoys include: The Castle of Fyrien (3x07), when Arthur used Merlin as a decoy to entrap Cenred’s soldiers; Aithusa (4x04), when Arthur used himself as a decoy to get Sir Percival to safety; Arthur’s Bane Part 2 (5x02), when Arthur uses Merlin as a decoy to enrage the slave traders before they escape-- by far my favourite example.

All things considered, I don’t think it takes long for Arthur to choose Merlin. Furthermore, this decision may have taken place before they reached their selected location, as Agravaine later mentions a previous attack by Caerleon on the border. This choice demonstrates that Arthur has higher confidence in Merlin's abilities than he does of in his knights-- else he would have chosen them. We must conclude that Merlin is Arthur's best fighter, though at first glance, we wonder why an unarmed man follows trained knights into battle.

Merlin is sharp, fast, has high stamina, and is incredibly resourceful. Most of all, however, he is incredibly brave. In fact, when rewatching 1x02, I was surprised to see Arthur acknowledge that Merlin was "braver than you look." This despite Arthur’s frustration that Merlin did not try hard enough during practice ("Come on, Merlin: I've got a tournament to win!").

What’s more, in that same episode, Merlin complains about his first day, but later on, we see his fascination wth the ongoing tournament. Then he admitted to Gaius that working for Arthur (in the context of said tournament) "isn't totally horrible all the time." It took one day for him to change his opinion!

Sure, Merlin would continue to treat the fighting as pointless violence, and Arthur as having nothing more in his head than a desire to knock "the seven bells" out of other people (3x04). However, even in 1x02, when he applauds Arthur's fighting, his actions tell a different story. We associate this habit of liking something whilst pretending otherwise to Arthur, yet Merlin has it as well.

As I have said before, Merlin and Arthur have profound differences, yet are profoundly alike.

2- MERLIN AS A SERVANT

It comes as no surprise that Merlin would return to serving after the beginning of 4x05. However, what that change represents sets the tone for this entire episode: Arthur dismissing Merlin's counsel repeatedly in favour of listening to his uncle.

When Arthur says, "so please, stick to what you do know," you have to wonder whether Merlin remembered being entrusted with the role of knight. Now, Arthur puts him back in his place.

Here's another example: "My conscience is clean, which is more than I can say for my room, so just... do your job, will you?" Yet just yesterday, that job involved Merlin risking his life against enemy forces by dressing as a knight.

By the way, you can tell that Arthur doesn’t believe his own excuses, because he keeps using the passive voice to justify killing Caerleon: “...a show of strength was necessary… an example had to be made… My conscience is clean…”

Merlin’s face after Arthur claims he doesn’t need anyone is self-explanatory.

3- NEW THOUGHTS ON ANNIS

Is Queen Annis a good person? Actually, no.

First of all, she knows and approves of her husband invading foreign kingdoms to plunder their wealth. Such invasions naturally cost not only the lives of Arthur's men, but her own, too.

Furthermore, despite accepting Arthur's offer of a fight by single combat, she is prepared to cheat by enlisting Morgana's power. Perhaps if Arthur had died, too, she would have felt some remorse. Yet she still takes a monumental risk with Arthur's life in blatant violation of the knight's code. One has to wonder about her reaction had Camelot plotted against her armies in the same way.

Then we have Annis calmly ordering Merlin’s execution without giving him a chance to explain himself. The lack of emotion in her voice suggests she has done this before.

Speaking of cruelty, Annis’ champion seems to enjoy inflicting pain on his enemies, yet the Queen claims that he “served my husband well.” I dread to think what she means by “served”.

I will also note that Queen Annis disdains magic, referring to Morgana as “witch”. As I have said before, Uther did not begin prejudice against magic; sorcerers were disliked and feared elsewhere, too, including by those who disliked Uther. Many sorcerers caused this prejudice by engaging in manipulative, violent, and wicked deeds.

Examples include High Priestesses using Fomorrohs to enslave people’s minds (4x06); Cornelius Sigan using his power to change day into night and acquire vast wealth (2x01); sorcerers using special blades to murder people (3x04), and so on.

None of this takes away from Annis’ complexity, nor does it undermine her immense humility when she accepts defeat and withdraws from Camelot. After all, much of Annis' rage and desire for vengeance stems from intense grief over Caerleon's death, so we can assume her marriage was a happy one.

Forgiving the man who destroyed her domestic happiness (as well as leaving her people without a king) shows tremendous nobility on Annis’ part. I think Arthur sees that, for he is always humble and respectful before her.

4- LONG LIVE THE KING

Few people respect Arthur more than Merlin. So when he doesn’t join in with cries of “Long live the king!”, you know something is wrong.

5- CONTROL YOUR FEAR

Episode 4x03 has a hilarious scene where a drunk Arthur claims he isn’t even a little bit scared, because, “I’m a warrior. You learn to control your fear.” Then Arthur walks smack bang into a pillar. Never fails to make me laugh. Minus the drunkenness, Arthur was telling the truth about controlling his fear.

You can see this at least twice in this episode: first, when he sees how many men Annis has brought against Camelot, and secondly, when he sees the size of Annis’ giant. In both cases, Arthur harnesses his fear into determination, which is another sign of a great warrior.

Next up, we have a fascinating scene where Arthur watches his men joking by the fire. It's a great way of showing Arthur’s care for these men, as well as his guilt that impending war will end their lives. In a sense, Arthur has to control his fear yet again.

6- TRUST IN MERLIN

After the above scene, Gwaine asks Merlin if Arthur is all right, and the fact that Merlin can describe Arthur's feelings without even questioning the King once again shows the unique nature of their friendship. Merlin sees Arthur's expression, and he just knows. And Gwaine knows that, hence why he does not question the King himself.

Listen to the silence after Merlin's response. Nobody questions Merlin's judgement: they just reflect. Given the way Arthur has repeatedly dismissed Merlin's advance in favour of his uncle, I think he could have learned something from his own knights.

I wonder whether the knights would ask Merlin something about Arthur in this way, whenever the king was absent. In ancient kingdoms, kings had advisers, and in order to earn the monarch's favour, you spoke to the latter first. Did Merlin ever play that role for the knights?

7- MERLIN’S IDIOCY

Now, I have a problem with Merlin telling Arthur that 1)- he would have taken any other option but to face war with Annis, and 2)- his decision to kill Caerleon “was made in the best interests of Camelot.”

Sorry, but it wasn’t. Merlin knows that. I understand that he has to rally Arthur’s spirits so that they can win against Annis, but I am glad that Arthur knows full well he has done wrong. Both Merlin and many fans do not give Arthur enough credit for recognising his own errors.

However, even these foolishly optimistic statements pale in comparison to Merlin's reckless and self-righteous interference when Arthur negotiates with Queen Annis. I burst out laughing when he trips and falls headlong into the tent, a metaphor for his impetuousness.

Merlin eavesdrops outside Annis’ tent, gets caught (so he didn't conceal himself), and then has the audacity to say, “Sorry about this!” to Arthur! Not only that, he got angry over being called a “simple-minded fool”, when he couldn’t even walk in a straight line to follow the king, got himself caught and almost killed by enemy soldiers, and made Arthur look as though he were double-crossing Annis!

I completely agree with Arthur’s anger: “Oh, I was being kind, believe me: you almost got me killed in there!” Correct. Merlin simply could not trust that Arthur knew what he was doing, and decided to interfere. Instead of apologising for getting Arthur into trouble, Merlin remains on the defensive, claiming without evidence that Arthur was “doing a pretty good job of that yourself!”

This is untrue. Arthur surrendered himself to Annis’ men. The most injury he received was a slap. He asked a favour. That isn’t risking your life. In fact, Arthur was trying to save lives, and if Merlin had been listening properly (or just stayed in bed), he would have seen that. Only after Merlin’s sudden entrance did Arthur face serious danger from Annis.

Now, Merlin’s explanation for this is, “I’m your friend! I was looking out for you.” I don’t doubt it. But once again, Arthur is right: “I appreciate that in your very confused way, you’re only trying to help, but please: don’t do it again.”

Condescending? Of course. But this time it was Merlin who provoked him into this anger.

8- MORGANA

Despite all her power, Morgana still has to defer to non-magical kings and queens. After all, she requires their military assistance to take over Camelot.

You can also see how Queen Annis detects Morgana’s hatred, greed, self-righteousness, hypocrisy, and bloodlust. In one glance, Queen Annis begins questioning the wisdom of working with a sorceress she does not trust, not least on account of Morgana being a sorceress.

In fact, Arthur’s prowess as a warrior impresses her more: “You have as much to lose as I if Arthur wins…” Fascinating scene.

9- THANK YOU, OLD FRIEND

It’s ironic that arguably the best scene in 4x05 begins by showcasing Arthur’s cynicism. No guesses why Arthur did not tell Merlin about breaking off his relationship with Gwen earlier. That speaks volumes. If he had told Merlin, I think they would have had an argument similar to that of 4x11.

Only when Arthur realises that he may die does he ask Merlin to pass his ring onto Gwen with an apology. You can see the guilt etched onto his face as he refuses to make eye contact. Interestingly, Merlin does not ask any further questions.

Arthur’s entrusting Merlin to look after Gwen in the event of his death says a lot. For example, that ring is technically royal property, yet Arthur gives it to a servant for safe-keeping, rather than his next-of-kin, Agravaine. Despite claiming to need his uncle’s advice, Arthur will not trust Agravaine with such duties. Has Arthur made a medieval will or testament? Obviously, I have no idea, however, this episode already shows Arthur’s reliance on Merlin to deal with family matters.

Another interesting aspect to this scene is Merlin’s silence after Arthur makes an indisputable point. This dispels any idea that Merlin’s advice was always correct. On several occasions, Merlin had to defer to Arthur’s judgement, because he saw the truth and wisdom behind it. “I don’t know what will happen. But for the first time since I became king, I know in my heart I’ve made the right decision.”

Got to love Arthur’s half-amused, “You’re not about to start crying on me, are you?” He expects Merlin to be either in good spirits or confident, because that is how he, too, remains confident. Arthur is an optimist, yet Merlin becomes a pessimist, so the king must pull Merlin together with light and yet serious teasing.

Needless to say, Arthur calling Merlin “old friend” implies that they have been friends for a long time. So why do some fans still think that Arthur had trouble admitting that Merlin was his friend? Also, the word “old” in this context can imply reliability, constancy. Arthur chose that word to describe Merlin’s value, as well as the length of their friendship.

The great thing about Arthur is that while he makes some serious errors, when he does repent, he does so well. Not only does Arthur graciously thank Merlin for his concern, but he makes it clear to Agravaine that he relies on Merlin’s judgement prior to entering battle. This supports my earlier statement that Merlin is Arthur’s best fighter, as well as right-hand man; Arthur does not leave for the fight until Merlin has confirmed his readiness.

On top of this, Arthur later admits that he might be a cabbage head. “I should have listened to you, Merlin. Just this once, I think you were right-- even if you are the worst servant in the five kingdoms!”

By implication, Agravaine is wrong. Arthur won’t say that, of course, but we saw Merlin’s sound advice competing with Agravaine’s lies for this entire episode. We can only conclude that regardless of what he says, Arthur trusts Merlin more than members of his own family.

And this is a theme which will continue and grow for the remainder of Season 4.

FURTHER POINTS:

Merlin’s fighting skills

Paradoxes of Arthur and Merlin’s friendship

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evolutionsvoid · 4 years

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When it comes to different classes of magic, their image and reputation is almost more widely known then their actual abilities. The common layperson may not know the true extent of a pyromancer's skills, but they will confidently say that they are hotheaded individuals with a passion for arson. It often does not matter what these magic users can bring to the table, as the public image of their group easily glosses over these benefits. A necromancer may be able to summon the spirits of murdered victims to help track down a vicious killer, but such details will not save them from being run out of every town they visit. These views are not exclusive to human magic, as other races deal with the same exact phenomenon. In dryad society, the art of Lichenmorphy took a huge hit after the reign of the Yellow Queen. The cruelties and deaths that came from her magic caused many dryads to fear this art and wonder if another would take her place. In time, however, these views came to pass, but not all magic classes are so lucky. While the Lichenmorphists regrew in popularity, the Gall Hags have yet to see such a bounce back, and many believe they never will. While the title of "Gall Hag" is widely used amongst all species, it is not the true name of this magic class. The actual name of these magic users is "Entomatr," a more fitting and dignifying title than the one the public has given them. Though Entomatres fight to have this name used more commonly, the masses have, unfortunately, made up their minds. The powers of the Gall Hags come mainly from insects, though their art can delve into other small organisms. They utilize something they call "Swarm Magic" to communicate and control a multitude of bugs. This is achieved through magically altered chemicals and pheromones that their bodies create and release, using them to guide these insects with surprising precision. Despite their ease in summoning swarms on command, these acts are not created on the spot. Gall Hags can only control insects or other organisms that they have studied and attuned themselves to. They must encounter these creatures and become knowledgeable in every aspect of them. To do this, it requires a long time of observing, which can include touching, smelling and occasionally tasting. It is not uncommon to see a Gall Hag toss a new bug species into their mouth for a quick taste, releasing it unharmed after they have gotten "all the flavors figured out." This intensive study is necessary, as it is how they adapt their magic to best communicate with the particular species. How long these study sessions last and how efficient they are depends upon the expertise of the Gall Hag. Beginners to the craft will spend days learning the ins and outs of one specific species, while an expert can inspect one specimen for a few minutes and then fluently communicate with that species and others that are closely related to it. Though their ability to summon and control swarms of insects is impressive, it is not the only thing Gall Hags are famous for. The way they incorporate their art into their bodies is astonishing to some and utterly repulsive to quite a few more. Since their magic relies on knowledge of specific insects and a healthy population to control, these magic users have decided that the most efficient way to keep these things handy is to carry them on their own person. They willingly allow their bodies to become hives and nests for a multitude of species, as it keeps their attunement strong and their companions close at hand. Through both the efforts of their guests and their magic, they shape their bodies to best host these colonies. Flesh is expanded and hardened, cysts are formed and many other bodily functions are altered to insure that the newcomers have the best setup while minimizing the harm that comes to the willing host. As their career in this art continues and their powers grow, it soon gets hard to tell the dryad from the hive, as they have allowed their bodies to be fully consumed by the multitude of minions. Newcomers to the art will often carry their own insects in bottles, pouches or travel-sized hives, but "true" practitioners of this magic scoff at this half-hearted devotion and claim that infestation is the only way to truly understand. Though the sight of a full-fledged Gall Hag may be unsettling to quite a few dryads, it is a process that is painless and also beneficial in some regards. With a living hive built into their flesh, Gall Hags can summon helpers in an instant and will rarely be caught unarmed. With them becoming one with these colonies, these bugs can now serve as their eyes and ears, giving them the ability to perceive everything around them and making ambush nearly impossible. With the more bugs that live in their body, the less the dryad has to rely on orally consuming nutrients, as their body can nourish itself on food the hives gather themselves, the carcasses of fallen brethren and the waste their insects may defecate. These colonies can also serve as personal defense against both outside attackers and internal health issues. Diseases, parasites and unwanted infections can be warded off by the help of these insects, and they can alert their host if something is amiss. Though gnarled and feeble looking, Gall Hags can live longer than their fellow sisters, though some may wonder if it is worth it for such a cost.

With swarms at their side and in their bodies, the abilities of the Gall Hags are quite interesting. The most obvious use of this power is to summon legions of biting and stinging insects to scare off foes, but its uses do not stop there. Attuned to their fellow brethren, they can send individuals out to scout the area or spy on foes, giving them crucial information with hardly any worry of detection. Others rarely think twice about the annoying fly or the cluster of pestering gnats, unaware that these could be listening in to their conversations and plans. Even non-violent insects can be of use, as a swarm of locusts against a field of crops can diminish the resources of a settlement, causing long-lasting damage throughout a siege or invasion. While Gall Hags have their powers focused on insects and other creepy crawlies, they are able to use them to take advantage of other vectors. Such creatures are capable of carrying diseases and fungus, and the Gall Hags take full advantage of such a thing. Spreading plague through a populace or wilt through a farm field is possible, all they need are the right bugs and the right materials. This is also why Gall Hags tend to have fungal infections on their bodies, as this is another welcome invader that they have wrangled with the help of their insect roommates. By carrying a multitude of species in their bodies, the possibilities can be endless. The discovery of a new species is monumental to a Gall Hag, and they will be quick to incorporate it into their bodies once they find a use for them. Though the list of powers mentioned above focus upon war and sabotage, the role of the Gall Hags are often not meant for violence. It is believed that these magic users first came to be for helping purposes, only incorporated into combat once their potential was realized. In a dryad settlement, a Gall Hag can bring many benefits. Their knowledge can be used to combat disease and parasites that may plague their sisters, and carrying the right predator species can help devour pests that attack homes and crops. At times these magic users were called "Blight Eaters" as they often found that the best way to rid another dryad of fungus or parasite is presenting themselves as a better option. One could watch as the infection or infestation literally crawled out of their bodies and attached itself to the Gall Hag instead. Though they now carried this sickness, their bodies were quite capable of containing it or taming it when needed. Studies and experiments with specific insects also allows Gall Hags to breed and design their own species, creating a whole variety of new helpers. They can make new pollinators for a failing crop, harmless burrowers to check on the health of trees and dryads alike, fast fliers for speedy messages and observation, rapid growing grubs for a new, quick food source and much more. For anyone in need, the local Gall Hag can provide, and many towns can benefit from their abilities. Despite this, one will rarely find one of these magic users in the settlement. Instead you will have to seek them out in the wilds, where they live as hermits. Turns out that while folk love the bounty Gall Hags can create, very rarely does anyone actually want to see them.

Non-dryads tend to describe the Gall Hags as "dryad witches," or "the witchcraft of dryad magic." These comparisons, however, are quite faulty, as the magic class of witchcraft is not contained to only humans. Due to witches drawing their powers and spells from potions and brews instead of internal energy, any individual of any race is capable of becoming a witch. Even then, the Venoness are a more fitting comparison, as they use concoctions and toxic brews to fuel their own magic, much like a witch. Though technically a false statement, there is a reason behind the comparison. The similarities are not between their magic abilities, but instead are between the reputations and stigmas both classes are given. Though Gall Hags can use their powers to heal and help, many dryads are terrified and disgusted by these magic users. The sight of them alone is repulsive to many, and the idea of having insects burrow through one's flesh is horrifying. Since they tend to carry a multitude of pests, parasites and diseases in their bodies, many settlements view them as walking plagues. If a Gall Hag is nearby and a business is suddenly besieged by flies and roaches, the blame is quick to fall on the traveling hive. Any sudden bouts of sickness and infestation will result in the local Gall Hag being immediately accused, and healing this will rarely mitigate the damage. Due to their infested bodies, Gall Hags are often banned from the sacred burial groves. They cannot visit these places or be buried there, in fear of their nasty collection getting out and infesting the area. Some places may allow one to be buried there if they agree for their bodies to be dipped in a powerful poison to kill off these internal insects prior to burial, but most Gall Hags view this concept as the ultimate betrayal. They would rather let their carcass fall on the barren rock than murder their friends in such a heartless fashion. Due to this treatment, many Gall hags are recluses who prefer to be alone with their insect friends. A nice little home out in the middle of nowhere is just fine for them, as long as there are plenty of bugs around. Some may be nomadic, traveling from place to place in order to find work and new species to study. The deeper they delve into this art, the more they fall away from socializing with others. Be it dryads or non-dryads, they don't find much interest in them, as they are noisy, whiny and quite judgmental. Talk with a Gall Hag and you will find them to be quite distracted during the conversation, often talking aloud to somebody else or busy checking on the status of their numerous colonies. Those who disrespects their hives or kills insects in their company will quickly earn their ire, resulting in you getting thrown out or attacked by a furious swarm. Most of the time it is best to leave a note at the door if you desire their help, as the Gall Hag will probably appreciate not being bothered. They will help if you can pay or provide suitable compensation, just keep the useless conversation to a minimum and don't stress out their hives. Though a good chunk of Gall Hags can be shy and reclusive, there are those out there who have used their art for darker purposes. Though few in number, their atrocities are one of the stronger reasons why dryads fear the Gall Hags. It is the same story for the witches, as their healing and aid is overshadowed by those who have grown vengeful and cruel. The same abilities that can pull disease from one's body and provide food for many can also be used for horrific things. Tales of voracious black rot, limb-eating termites, mind-controlling wasps, lobotomizing weevils and disfiguring beetles can be found in tomes of the past, stories of fiction and minds of the paranoid. Which of these tales are fact or fiction is unknown, but very few wish to find out. Rumors and scary stories of twisted Gall Hags can be found in many villages, often whispered in the dark. Some claim that there are wealthy Floral Dryad families who have Gall Hags in their employ. They use these infested creatures to spy on other families, sabotage competitors, keep themselves youthful and occasionally carve out the pesky thinky parts of their servants and prisoners to make them more obedient. Gall Hags often show up in spooky tales for saplings, used like an evil witch to prey upon the naughty and misbehaving. Those that turn vicious may target dryad, human or anyone that angers them. Why this happens is always up to debate, and many never know even after the wretched creature is burned to ash. Some claim it is the bugs devouring their brain and driving them mad, while others suggest that they grow so fond of their colonies that they cease to view dryads and others as equals. Perhaps the hate and fear they face everyday may have caused them to snap, but such an idea is often hushed. No one ever wants to take credit for making the monsters that haunt their nightmares. ----------------------------------------------------------- Man, I am posting a lot of green stuff as of recently. I got to add some new colors to some of these things! Also, here is another dryad magic class! This is probably an icky one for a lot of folk, but it was an idea I couldn't pass up!

#hive #infestation #insect #bug #insects #bugs #dryad #plant monster #art #drawing #monster #creature #tw trypophobia #tw insects #tw bugs #gall

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nevernotwriting · 4 years

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You, Me, and Yancy | Chapter 5: The Wrench in the Works

Read me on AO3!

Previous chapter

You slept surprisingly well that night, despite the heightened anxiety from your situation and what almost happened between you and Mark the night before. He kept giving you warm glances over breakfast, making you smile into your soggy cereal. Despite your current predicament, your head was on cloud nine knowing that he was still very eager to take you on that date once this mess was over.

Once breakfast was eaten and the inmates were allowed to roam, you and Mark got to work on your plan. You’d agreed that rallying the prisoners to your cause was your best way of getting out of here; there were more prisoners than guards, and with the size of some of the prisoners, the lot of you could easily overpower them.

You and Mark decided to work together to tackle the biggest, burliest prisoner first. You hadn’t caught his name yet, but he stood well over six-feet tall, sporting a large beard and a spider web tattooed onto his bald head. You gulped as Mark turned to you with a reassuring nod before poking him harshly in the bicep.

“Hey! You! I wanna talk about respect. It’s somethin’ that we’ve been really missin’ here lately.”

You watched from the side lines, ready to step in when you were needed. You suspected it wouldn’t be long; the man’s intense look of contempt was only getting worse as Mark poked him in the chest to emphasise his words.

“Now I need you to respect me, and help me and my friend break out-”

Wham.

The man’s fist collided with Mark’s stomach, and Mark was sent crashing through the wall behind him. Bricks and dust flew everywhere, clouding your vision and making you splutter. By the time the dust cleared, the wall was rapidly being filled in again, and Mark was nowhere to be seen.

Your heart started beating rapidly, stomach lurching.

Was Mark... dead?

Your head started spinning, making you feel faint. What the hell were you going to do now? Your plan had backfired and now you were on your own.

You barely had time to collect your scattered thoughts before a husky voice came from behind you.

“Break out… of this place? Why would anyone… wanna break out?”

You turned around, greeted by a man with coiffed black hair and an array of tattoos. He was sat on a table as if he owned it, looking at you with one eyebrow cocked and a devilish smile.

You weren’t entirely sure if what occurred next really happened; the man started singing to you, surrounded by his fellow prisoners. He took you by the hand as he sang, introducing you to his “gang” with the biggest smile on his face. There was dancing, even more singing – something about not wanting to be free? – and then it was all over. The lights stopped. The dancing stopped. You were surrounded by criminals once more, and now they were closing in on you. You weren’t sure whether to be impressed or intimidated by how quickly they could change their demeanour.

“So, tell me,” the man spoke again, a dangerous look in his eyes as he approached you. “Do ya still wanna be free?”

You gulped, thinking yet again about Mark being launched through that wall. He had to be okay, right? You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if he was dead. You needed to be sure. More so than that, you had friends and family out there. You couldn’t just leave them all behind for a life behind bars, as tempting as the song made it sound.

Family, of course! You reached into your back pocket, handing the photo of your parents to the man.

“What’s this?”

He turned the paper around, almost looking disappointed as he glanced over it. “Oh. So yous the type o’ person with one o’ those… family types waitin’ for ya on the outside, huh?”

You nodded. To your intrigue, and utter bewilderment, his expression took a sombre turn, as if he was reminded of a thousand past hurts all at once.

“I too was once also one of those familial types. Before the incident… ces.”

He tossed your picture behind him with an even more pained look. “But forget it! It’s best if yous just forget about those family bonds of youses, they ain’t worth it! They always just gonna leave you behind, so best to just stick with what’s youses! The past ain’t the kinda thing to be trifled with.”

The sincerity of his monologue didn’t sound like the words of a murderer, despite what he had claimed in the song. You wanted to question him, but he shook himself out of his sadness with an exasperated sigh.

“So what’s it gonna be, huh? You gonna stick with us, or you gonna go out on your own?”

You looked behind him, noting that you still had an audience for this stand-off. Despite the anxiety growing inside you from this tense situation, you knew you had to stick to your guns.

You shook your head at the man. “Look, thanks but no thanks. I gotta get out of here.”

The man narrowed his eyes at you, his expression rapidly deteriorating into one of judgement.

“Oh. So it’s like that, huh? Maybe I misjudged you. Maybe I was distracted by that lovely face of youses. What, are we not good enough for you?!”

He gestured to the gang around him, who were laughing and cracking their knuckles as they backed away into a wide circle. You should’ve felt more terrified, having only ever landed practice punches on your colleagues during CQC training, but your mind was preoccupied by the man’s words. Did he just… compliment you? In the middle of a stand-off?

You managed to narrowly miss getting punched square in the face. You reigned in your wandering mind, adrenaline starting to course through you as the man’s gang cheered him on. You raised your fists and focused on him, lightly bouncing on the spot. Your breathing picked up as you dodged around wildly, avoiding collisions with tables and chairs and fists alike. You didn’t want to descend into violence, but the yells of encouragement encircling your makeshift arena didn’t give you much of a choice, it seemed. Eventually, you managed to land a few punches on your opponent, boosting your confidence as his attacks slowed down more and more.

For an apparent leader of a prison gang, this guy was surprisingly easy to beat. After a dozen landed punches on his face and abdomen, he fell to the floor. His gang surrounded him immediately.

“Yancy?!” Some of them gasped. So that was his name.

Yancy slurred a response. His gang looked up at you with murderous glares. They slowly started to crowd around you.

Your eyes widened in panic. Winning one fight was something, but you’d stand no chance against all these folks.

“Wait!”

Your panic was cut short. Everyone stopped and turned back around, seeing Yancy haul himself onto his feet with a tired expression. There was a circular bruise around his eye and a cut on his lip. Some deep part of you almost felt sorry for him as he trudged towards you with a sigh and apologetic eyes.

“Maybe I was wrong about yous. Maybe I was… wrong about a lotta things.”

He patted his gang members on their shoulders as he went, eventually standing in front of you.

“Look, it’s too late for me. It’s too late for us. But I can tell that yous got somethin’ worth fightin’ for out there!” Yancy continued, his voice surprisingly soft. You smiled a little in relief.

“So what’d’ya say? Let us let bygones be bygones, and let me help yous be gone from this place?”

He held out his hand for you to shake. He looked kind, and just slightly nervous.

You sighed, still recovering from the whiplash of how quickly this situation had de-escalated. You couldn’t deny it; you needed the help, and Yancy clearly knew this place better than you did.

You took his hand with a firm shake.

“Yancy, right?” You asked him.

His smile grew wider, seemingly flattered that you’d picked up on that small detail. “Yeah. And what should I call yous?”

“Call me Zero.”

Yancy hummed with an approving nod. “Zero. Got a nice ring to it. All right, let’s get to work!”

Suddenly, the lights turned a flashing red and sirens blared around the room, making you, Yancy, and his gang jump out of your skin. The Warden strode in with a furious look on his face.

“What the hell is goin’ on around here?! Somebody turn off that infernal racket!”

The alarms whirred into nothing, the lights returning to their normal, neutral colour. Yancy hunched his shoulders and curled his hands towards his chest as the Warden stalked towards him.

“Now a fight hasn’t broken out here at Happy Trails Penitentiary in fifteen years! And now,” he loomed over Yancy with a threatening aura, “I hear you started one.”

Yancy stammered through a desperate explanation. “No, Warden, I wasn’t startin’ no fights, I was just talkin’ with my new friend here!”

Yancy glanced at you with petrified eyes. Your heart was hammering in your chest.

“I’ve heard enough!” The Warden roared.

“B-b-but Warden-” Yancy stumbled on, but the Warden cut him short.

“No buts!”

Yancy’s lip trembled. You watched on in terror, frozen to your spot and unable to look away. Dread filled every fibre of your being.

“I can’t have my prisoners runnin’ around causin’ a ruckus now, can I?” The Warden asked, clapping both hands harshly onto Yancy’s shoulders. Yancy shook his head vigorously, obviously eager to escape his firm hold.

Something snapped inside of you as the Warden clamped his hands down on Yancy like that. Before you could stop yourself, you stepped forward, words shooting out of your mouth.

“It wasn’t his fault, Warden. It… it was mine.”

Yancy snapped his head towards you. His eyes lit up in gratitude, but this was quickly replaced with a look of horror as the Warden trained his murderous glare on you. You took a deep breath and stood tall, ignoring your pounding heart.

“It’s not his fault, I provoked him. He doesn’t deserve to be punished… I do.”

Silence filled the air for a few seconds. The Warden grumbled underneath his breath.

“New or not, we will not be having fights in this establishment! You hear me?!”

You nodded back silently. You clenched your fists at your side to stop your hands from trembling.

“Now, I’ll let you off with a warnin’ cause you’re only a rookie. But if I hear one single peep outta you, outta any of you, I will throw your tuchus straight into solitary! Have I made myself clear?”

You gulped, squeaking out a meagre “mhmm.” The Warden turned to Yancy and the gang, gaining an array of agreements and nods before he strode out. The same guard that escorted you into the yard yesterday shot you a threatening look, heading out the same way as the Warden.

Once the Warden was gone, everyone let out a collectively held breath. Yancy turned to you, planting a grateful hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, thanks for takin’ the heat for me,” he sighed. “Guess I really owe you one now, huh?”

You laughed a little. “You can help me by getting me the hell out of here. Deal?”

“Deal,” he replied. “But it’s gonna take me an’ the boys and girls a bitta time to come up with a plan. Think you can sit tight for a little longer?”

He winked at you, making your heart jump unexpectedly. You nodded.

Mark, if you’re out there, I’m coming for you.

Next chapter

#a heist with markiplier #ahwm #heist mark #heist mark x reader #heist! mark x reader #yancy x reader #ahwm yancy x reader #ahwm yancy #my writing #nevernotwriting

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meadow-roses · 4 years

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This is Part 1, ✨History✨.

Okay, so I was working on typing up plot stuff for Joden's story that I'm still thinking of a name for, but it's getting really long so I'll post it in parts. :3

Also since this is really early in the story's creation pretty much everything is subject to change, but you get the idea of the general plot. XD

@ascendant-queen 💖

If anyone has any questions feel free to ask 👀

The story is set in a forested landscape, tree dotted grasslands eventually giving way to deep forests climbing up the mountain slopes. The different kinds of animals live in self governing groups, with varying levels of interaction between them.

The smaller critters like mice, rabbits, and squirrels mostly just live in large family groups throughout the entire region south of the Great Pine Woods. They by far make up the majority of the population, and have no uniting ruler.

The cheetahs live in the southern plains, little baronies scattered all around. Their diet consists of fish and smaller birds (? Might change that later haven't decided if the birds are sentient) and the cereal crops they grow. They also trade these grains with the other animals in exchange for goods such as cloth and beads. They love being fancy. They have this system of electing their rulers, but only members of the "nobility" (land owners) ever get voted in because of money stuffs.

The raccoons also form their own society working off the classic monarchy. Their kingdom is built in the Eastern woods, with their homes built up off the ground and literally in the trees. In the most populated villages, rope and stick bridges connect these homes making swinging pathways in the branches. A lot of the smaller creatures choose to make their homes in the roots of the raccoon trees, as their territorial border patrol keeps out aerial predators and the occasional rogue fox. Unlike the cheetahs, the raccoons are small enough they have enemies to worry about, and are known to have an exceptional and disciplined military.

The bear clans live high up in the craggy woods working their gardens, rather indifferent to what happens below and the rumors that they eat their visitors.

The foxes do not have any form of government or organization. Some live in groups and some alone, some pledge a mammal free diet and some hunt their neighbors. As such they are not trusted by anyone. :/

Here is a map I drew up:

A few things are unnamed and the scale is a bit off but you get the general idea of layout. 👍

About twenty years before the story begins:

Down from the Northern pine woods a clan of foxes comes. They are organized, armed, and angry, ready to claim some territory after being chased out of the north by the wolf clans. Most of the southern foxes come to join their cause, pleased at the idea of them having utter lordship over the woods. Skirting around the great cats, they infiltrate the woods to the west and south after establishing themselves in the North. This was done easily with no opposition due to the small critters having no leader. They just swept in and conquered.

With this done they turn their attentions to the East. The raccoons have watched this all happen with great alarm. King Cynric gathered his men in preparation of the attack, but still wasn't ready for the craftiness of the foxes'. They came in great numbers from the south, engaging the king's soldiers in the clash of battle, while stealthy individuals crept past the border guards and set fire to the trees. The wind and dry weather did its work, and the kingdom of raccoons fell to fire and bloodshed. Most died in the fires that destroyed their homes, the remainder of them fled under the guidance of their prince, only to fall at the mercy of their waiting enemies. Unprotected sows and their kits were slaughtered by the sword or captured and enslaved in the ruins of their home and all across the newly conquered forest.

This song really fits the burning of East Wood and Rowan's side of the story.

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Prince Rowan, however, rebelled at the enslavement of his people. With his father the king now gone, he was left the protector of his people and despite his wife's urging, could not lay down in submission. He gathered a small team of close friends and willing boars, bid his wife farewell, and left, hoping to gain more information on the foxes' plans and find a way to free his people. Him and those with him were never heard from again.

The cheetahs watched all this happen around them, and decided not to interfere, but rather formed an uneasy alliance with the foxes. They didn't consider themselves in any danger of being conquered, but weren't bothered by their actions and wanted to avoid the bother of war. The foxes were more than eager to sign peace with the cheetahs, knowing in that their conquest would be secure. It is unknown whether the bears up in their western mountain range are even aware of the dramatic changes to the lower-lands.

The woods are now in an awkward state of affairs, the foxes holding a tyrannical rule over all their subjects. Soldiers are stationed in every town and village to "keep the peace", the inhabitants going about their lives in the fear they or one of their family members will be chosen as the next meal. Most of the Southern foxes still prefer a mammal free diet, but one of the Northern invaders' main objectives is to secure easy prey for consumption.

The "free" creatures are allowed to live their lives "as they would please", but have limited allowance to travel and must give payment at the end of every week to their resident "guardians". This payment can be anywhere from a basket of wheat berries or a bolt of cloth to an older child.

The raccoons have a far stricter control placed over them, as they are viewed more capable of revolt. Scattered across the foxes' open woodless territory small slave towns hold the remnants of Cynric's kingdom. They spend their days working for their masters, boar and sow alike, tending fields, cooking and cleaning, mining, etc. They are kept under strict control with heavy penalties for disobedience. Their meal times are regulated, their sleep times, work times, housing, children, everything. It is in one of these dusty, dead towns Joden grows up in.

His mother is old enough she remembers what life was like in the old kingdom, remembers a life of freedom under the trees. Joden's father died shortly after the foxes' attack, he is told later he was one of the faithful boars that accompanied Prince Rowan for his last stand. She raises Joden on these tales, urging him to never give up the hope that they can one day be free.

It is for his mother's sake Joden's intense optimism grows. Can he truly be considered a slave if he goes about his work with a smile and a song? If he willingly puts on the yoke and carries the load they have required, who is the one truly in control here? They can enslave his body but they cannot enslave his spirit.

As he gets older he also grows bolder. Just being cheerful to lift his mother's spirits is not enough. He wants the entire slave town to be free in the way he is. They all go about their days in unnecessary gloom, only because they lack someone to lead them out of it. By the time he reaches maturity the entire town looks to him as their leader, hoping that someday a hero will come to set them free and lead them home. He stands in for them against the cruelty of their masters, fighting for the justice of his small community of raccoons. This often gets him into a good bit of trouble, which he somehow always manages to get out of and back home to his worried mother.

He meets Twylla when she is relocated from another slave town by stepping in when a few of the slave masters decide to teach the new coon a lesson. The girl had made no grave offense, just a slip in her understanding of the schedule this different camp functioned under. It was a great surprise to her when a random coon detached himself from the troop marching past, and demanded they punish him in her stead. He would take responsibility for the sow and her actions throughout her initiation and teach her obedience to their rules, all her mistakes laid to his shoulders instead. This was agreed to, as they had nothing in particular against the new coon but did enjoy taking out their boredom on Joden who usually escaped from any attempts against him. Twylla really had no idea what to think of any of this. She helped him up off the ground with repeated apologies he gently brushed off. She very willingly trotted along after him as he taught her not only how to function in this new town, but also how to hope. Then later they get married. :3

Jaceryn is the son of a Cheetah land baron. He has been raised in the lap of luxury, his father being the wealthiest of the barons and the cheetah's current elected leader. He is a rather naive boy who has never left his Father's estate, but naturally has big plans on how he will make the world a better place. He has grown up in a world where the foxes have dominion of all the forest outside his Father's control, and this is normal, but he doesn't understand what that means until he sees it for himself. They have little raccoon slaves all over his Father's land that they purchased from the foxes, so the concept of raccoons being a race of slaves is kinda engrained in him. There's no such thing as a "free raccoon".

His mother instructed him to stay on his father's estate when he plays outside, but one day he gets curious like young boys do, and decides to venture into the trees. He really likes the way the forest feels and goes deeper and deeper, thoroughly enjoying himself when he hears voices and decides to investigate. He comes across a raid in a woodland village, the fox overlords collecting their taxes. He sees the children ripped from their mother's arms, the weeping villagers, the carts of goods and the miserable raccoon slaves pulling them, and the jeering, laughing faces of the fox soldiers and the injustice burns within him. It is true the foxes defeated them in battle, so the captives are their spoils of war, but this is unnecessarily cruel oppression and he hates it. He hates that his own people- free people- are doing nothing to change this and he resolves to be the one that frees the slaves. His parents are told this scheme by their proud little thirteen year old and are very quick to try and dissuade him. Not only is this a dangerous task for him to undertake, but this also holds the possibility of starting a war that neither of them wish to fight. Jacer agrees to "abandon" the dream to put his parents fears to rest, but secretly continues plotting and preparing his coup. It would be risky, and he would need to be sneaky. Break into a camp and take out the guards, let the little coons run free…

He went on frequent trips out to the forest to swing around in the branches and practice creeping silently through the underbrush. The other cubs his age wrote him off as a weirdo, so he went alone. His father eventually began to worry about him on these trips, remembering how impulsive his son can be at times. It had been years since Jacer had talked about his quest to end slavery and had shown no signs that he still held that belief so his father thought nothing of purchasing Jacer his own personal slave. This slave's job would be companion and voice of reason and just general personal servant.

This is probably where the actual story would start lol, so all that is setup. XD

I'll share more as I finish writing it, cause I'm really excited about this story. :3

#joden #jacer #text #writing #anthro #original story #original character #oc #cheetah #raccoon #fox #map #if anyone else wants to get tagged in these posts lemme know 👍#deepwood

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pkmnsdarkqueen · 3 years

Text

Ice Log, Audio Journal-Pryce

Some of the audio log of Pryce’s experiments with the children and Ho-oh and Lugia to get an idea of what happened

TW: child abuse

Day xxx Age of children-14

I’ve brought the two newest to the remote location where I am housing the legendaries. Since keeping them in pokeballs has proved difficult. The hex upon them seems to weaken in the devices thus I’m forced to have them housed. Both children have proven a great deal of loyalty. I find it time they meet the legendary pokemon I have housed, perhaps gain even more of their respect through this.

Day xxx Age of children-14

I have come upon an.....interesting discovery, but I am not sure what to make of it. I find myself in a situation akin to a horror movie since bringing the children to this site. They have come to me five times today claiming to hear screaming from the barn, and question how no one hears it. They say it’s human like. The only alive thing there is the legendaries. It has been less than a day of being here, how could they know anything?

Day xxx Age of children-14

I’ve refused them access to the barn, and am trying to nail down the cause. The more I look into it the more maddening this is. Carl and Sham have failed to hear anything. Both Will and Karen have come independently of one another to tell me. It disrupts their training as they show deep signs of distress when hearing these supposed screams. I have also found it often correlates to when tests are done of the legendary pokemon, or I am renewing the hex over them to hold my bond to them. I will try wait a bit longer to document more.

Day xxx Age of children-14

I have found no other explanation. Something about these children and the legendaries is connected. I must introduce them.

Day xxx Age of children-14

I let the boy go first. With his psychic abilities if something were to go wrong then I suppose he would have a better chance at fighting off the legendary Lugia till I could regain control of the hex. At this that is what I figured. However I was shocked to find how little he struggled. With the tidal bell in hand, and silver wing the hex seemed to instinctively latch to him. There was only a minimal struggle from Lugia before the pokemon succumbed to his control. Naturally I was taken aback as it took an hour for the bond to attach with myself, but this child had no issues. We are now seeing how long he can hold it.

Day xxx Age of children-14

It was roughly hour 8 that the child was finally loosing control, and had to reinstate the hex over the pokemon. Again he took to it naturally though seemed distressed while doing it claiming he heard the pokemon screaming again. All we heard was the usual pokemon cries, but he claimed to hear words. Naturally I told him I had held the hex longer and he’d grow in time when in actuality it took quite some time to get to his level. Now to see what the girl can manage, and if he has any luck with Ho-oh.

Day xxx Age of children-14

Note to self. Do not mix their pokemon. The girl shows the same aptitude with Ho-oh. Naturally she had the rainbow wing and clear bell with her also. When trying to introduce the hex to the opposing pokemon immediate chaos broke out. They seem to excel with one certain pokemon, and if trying to attach to the other the hex rejects them out right. Won’t be making that mistake again.

Day xxx Age of children-16

Tests with the children and their respective pokemon continues. They’ve grown exceptionally over the years with control of their respective pokemon. Not only can they control them outside an enclosed environment, but have intense battles with relitive ease in control. Rocket remains none the wiser.

Day xxx Age of children-17

I had hoped we’d find something by now. Some tangible explanation, but there’s nothing. We’ve preformed countless medical tests by now, x-rays, collected samples, the whole nine yards which I have kept careful documentation of. Hell we’ve even tried dental studies to see if there’s something, but nothing. No shred of explanation as to what is giving these children such careful control of legendaries. Their bond with the pokemon grows too. I worry they could revolt if I am not careful.

Day xxx Age of children-17

I originally thought it possible the boy’s psychic abilities had to do with his link to Lugia though that never explained why the girl failed to show any results to having say pyrotechnic abilities. I’m beginning to think the psychic abilities he has are wholly separate from the connection to Lugia. Despite this gap the girl has seemed to keep up in fighting abilities, impressively so. However that also drew me to question if there was a separation between the legendary connection and their strengths. The true kicker was what the girl said to me an hour ago. I was in my study and she knocked on the door coming in with some tea saying I could use some. Granted I have been stressed with the recent failure of Carl and Sham’s last mission, but I had not left my office nor did she know about this as they had called me directly. I asked her how she knew I was stressed, and she seemed equally curious on how she reached that conclusion before shrugging and claiming she simply,’felt it from me, and Will told her I likely wanted tea.’ I hadn’t thought about it before, but both her and the boy seem to do that often. She always seems to know how people feel, and he always seems to know what people want. I had taught them that as good manipulation tactics, but....they understood it so quickly, as if they already knew each time. If Lugia is the guardian of souls, and Ho-oh of hearts...I wonder....could that be translated to desires, and feelings?

Day xxx Age of children-17

I am more convinced of my heart and soul theory having tested them more and more. I wonder....how alike are they to the legendaries, what powers can they access?

Day xxx Age of children-18

I have begun to research into the tower burning. Where the beasts were resurrected. Medically we have still found nothing, and the children grow more apprehensive of these lab visits while I grow tired of them. I truly think now I maybe onto something in researching these legends. Ho-oh is capable of rebirth, correct? The only thing stopping me from bringing back my pokemon’s parents is Ho-oh’s cooperation in reviving them. That’s how I view it at least. Now to find out how it happened once to make it happen again.

Day xxx Age of children-18

It seems I am not the first to have this idea, and I praise my luck I am not. The ruins of Alph speak about the power in Ho-oh’s resurrection bringing up the cycle of life. Apparently there are ties to pokemon in Kalos as well, but Ho-oh is the beginning of this process the rebirth of life. So with those pokemon far past the final step it is time for rebirth.

Day xxx Age of children-19

I have it ready finally. The ritual is set, and the girl understands her job. After tomorrow I’ll have peace again.

Day xxx Age of children-19

Perhaps I should of done more research into those Kalos pokemon. The ritual, as the listener to this, if anyone listens to this besides myself can safely assume it failed. I followed everything to the T, and I do think it went properly. At least somewhat. The girl entered a trance of sorts after seeming to fall unconscious. She was misty eyed, literally, and to be blunt I feared dead by how lifeless her body looked. However the carvings I made continued to glow, and Ho-oh continued to glow giving off an aura. Then cuts appeared on the girl, claw marks, gashes, simply various wounds. Everything seemed to cut out suddenly as she snapped to shaking and crying hardly noticing her injuries as she clutched herself. She spoke gibberish for a bit before calming enough to explain what happened. Apparently she entered some dark space with nothing around, but a door in the far distance, and Ho-oh desperately trying to pull away from it. The closer she got to it, and pushed the bird two voices told her to stop, that the living weren’t allowed there, it was too late the souls have moved on. Then they attacked. She doesn’t recall what attacked her exactly as they felt like shadows, but there was talons, hooves, a beak, and horns all taking blows at her till she couldn’t fight anymore. I noticed then Ho-oh was wounded too. For now healing. I will try again another time, she promises she can get to the door next time for me.

Day xxx Age of children-19

I have tried multiple times with the girl now. Each time she only comes back more injured, and shaken. I have continued research on the ritual since. I will integrate the boy with her this next time. Perhaps the two of them can finally reach some silly door.

Day xxx Age of children-19

Still nothing. Medical results yield again, nothing. There is something to this that is past our current understanding of science. The children grow no closer to this supposed door even together, and are continuously told by what I can only assume to be xerneas and yveltal that the souls of my pokemon’s parents are too far gone. They’ve already moved past. As infuriating as this is I have found a possible solution to my strife in my detailed research of legendary pokemon of this region. If I can not raise them from the dead which apparently requires some machine in Kalos, or give them the rebirth of new life as was done with the beasts then I will try something simpler, time travel.

#tw: child abuse #(home boy like: yeah time travel seems easier than raising the dead and weirdly he was right?)#headcannons #audio log

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marril96 · 4 years

Text

Handle with Care

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: A sexual role-play leads to guilt and tears.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

It was a game no different than the countless others you'd played.

It started with a kiss that made you tingle all over, nerves on fire, going off like fireworks on the Fourth of July. A push — a shove, really, for you intended to make the most of the night — and Rowena was on her back, naked as the day she'd been born, arms spread, skin glistening like a milky sky dusted with a constellation of freckles, hair spilled around her head like a fiery halo.

Lying so still, her eyes observing your every move, taking it in like prey preparing for an attack, heart pounding softly in her chest, she resembled an angel. She was beautiful as one, charming, magnificent, supernatural not just in species but in presence itself. A force of nature you never tired of claiming, of making it clear to everyone that asked — and those that didn't — that she was yours.

She didn't get like this for just everyone. She didn't bare herself — body, mind, and soul — to any stranger. It took years of love, of devotion, of endless patience and support and kindness for you to earn her trust to be allowed to play this game.

As much as she wanted to pretend otherwise, Rowena was a delicate thing. Gentle. Fragile. She needed to be handled with care, even when she relinquished all control and told you, in no certain terms, to go at it. To roam free. She had her limits, and she trusted you to respect them.

Straddling her, you pressed your mouth to hers in another kiss. Tonight was your night. As much as she loved being in control, there were times when she relished being a powerless, naughty girl in need of punishment. A few days ago, that was your role. Tonight, it was hers. Your hands roamed everywhere, tugging, squeezing, feeling her warmth underneath your fingertips, as delicious as her mouth on yours.

Rowena's eyes fell closed, a moan escaping her lips — her swollen, cherry-red lips, hungry for kisses, begging for more. Your teeth grazed the lower one as you parted, drawing blood. She hissed, startled, and you smirked. Rowena pouted, and you clicked your tongue, shaking your head. She was at your mercy tonight. Nobody said anything about playing fair.

You kissed down her neck, every now and then capturing a bit of skin between your lips and leaving behind a butterfly bruise. They were violet and beautiful, marks of ownership she would wear for days, alike those she'd left on you earlier. It was one of your favorite parts of the game. Being allowed to hurt her, ruin her, and make it feel so good — not just for you, but for her as well.

Rowena accompanied every nip with a moan, pain and pleasure mixed into one, a sound that was magic to your ears. Her body was a canvas, blank and perfect, waiting for you to fill it, to make it yours. And, the artist you were, you were happy to oblige.

Your cupped her breasts. Small, supple, they fit perfectly into your palms. You kissed each one, suckling on rock-hard nipples. Biting on each before releasing them with a plop. Rowena looked at you with wounded, desperate eyes. Sad as a kicked puppy. You used to have a hard time resisting them, but over the years you'd built a tolerance for petty manipulations in the bedroom. You had, after all, learned from the best.

"Aw, what is it, baby?" you cooed, sarcasm thick in your voice.

"Y/N, please," she whined. A perfect, delicious little melody.

You raised an eyebrow. "Please what?"

"Touch me."

"I am touching you." You emphasized it by pinching one of her nipples, eliciting a yelp. "Is this not good enough for you?"

"It is, but…"

"But what?"

Rowena pouted. Realizing you weren't going to fall for that, either, she said, "Please, Y/N."

Her hand slithered between her legs. You slapped it away. "Patience, sweetie."

"But—"

"No buts." Your fingers slid over her thigh in a gentle caress. A teasing. A promise of what was to come. "We've only just started. No need to rush things."

"I need you."

You chuckled. And she had the audacity to be offended when you called her a brat. "You're such a baby."

"Am not," she said defiantly, scowling.

"So are. My little baby," you teased, booping the tip of her nose.

She scrunched up her face adorably. "You're mean."

"That's rich, coming from you. Or did you forget last week?" She'd worked you so hard it had hurt to walk for two days straight. You hadn't regretted a thing; every lick of pain, every screaming muscle was worth it.

Rowena smirked. "T'was a lot of fun."

It definitely was. "And so is tonight." You raised a questioning eyebrow. "Unless you're chickening out."

"Please. As if I've anything to fear."

"I can be scary."

A snort, taunting, derisive.

You scowled. "What, you don't think I can?"

"Of course you can, darling." She patted your arm as if you were a dog who'd just performed the simplest trick. Good girl, the gesture said, condescending to its very core. So smart for a dog.

You grit your teeth, smacking her hand off. "You're being a naughty girl."

There it was again, that smirk, infuriating and delicious all at once. Defiant as ever. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to have to punish you." Your pussy quivered at the thought. Pictures already formed in your mind; Rowena on her knees, your hand tangled in her hair, pulling to expose her neck, to show her who was in charge. To make her submit for every failure to do so resulted in a new punishment. Bruises adorning her body, bites and scratches, red lines and purple butterflies. An artwork to be admired.

She quired up an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Mmhm." You licked your lips, imagined your tongue exploring tastier places. All in good time. "Can't reward bad behavior, can I?"

"You most certainly can't," she agreed. Then, with a teasing grin, "If you're competent."

Brat mode on, it seemed. Not that it was ever off, in the sheets or the streets.

"Are you saying I can't punish you?"

"Och, I know you can. If it's any good, though… that is a guessing game, is it not?"

"Is that a challenge?" you asked, knowing full well it was.

"I don't know. Is it?" You scowled. Rowena shrugged, blinked innocently. "You are a more… gentle lover, darling. I just don't know if you have it in you to be tough."

You slapped her in the face with all the strength you could muster. Her cheek instantly swelled an angry red, skin bristled, tingling with raging nerves. If that was how she wanted to play, so be it. You loved a good challenge.

The smug smile never left Rowena's mouth. If anything, it got bigger, bolder. She laughed, and it was hearty, too nonchalant for her own good. "Is that the best you've got?"

Frustration swelled in your chest. Riling you up was her favorite thing to do whenever you played. She loved to push you to your limits, loved to tease and taunt and mock until you snapped and took all your anger, all your rage out on her. It hurt a lot, and it hurt so good; you knew from your own nights as a "victim," when Rowena's own limits were pushed and you happily paid the price.

Your hands shot up to her neck, fingers wrapping around the sensitive skin. Tentative, gentle, testing the waters before the final countdown. Choking wasn't something you practiced often, but Rowena always welcomed it. She'd never refused a punishment, had never used her safe word and asked that you go slower, lighter. She welcomed pain for as much as it hurt, it felt so good, so empowering.

She knew you would never do anything she wasn't comfortable with. Knew one word of hers would be the end of everything, and your arms would be open for her to snuggle into as you murmured apologies. She felt safe with you, just as you had with her. There was no danger, no fear. Nothing either of you hadn't consented to.

Nothing but endless trust.

Rowena snorted. "Seriously?"

If that's how you wanna play it, fine. Eyes locked in an intense stare, your fingers tightened around her neck. Such a delicate thing she was. So small, so frail. You could crush her throat if you wanted to. It was a scary amount of power to have, but you knew how to wield it. You knew not to let it get to you, not to abuse it.

"How about this, Red?" The words rolled off your tongue in a purr, delicate, provocative. The way you knew made her quiver in all the right places. "Hm? You like this?"

Your nails dug into her skin as you squeezed and squeezed and squeezed, grazing it, almost drawing blood. Marking it. She was yours; your property, your little doll to play with, to do whatever you wanted to. And, gods, there were so many things you wanted to do. So many punishments you wanted to inflict, different ways to make her scream and beg and whimper underneath you. To make her curse your name just as you had hers last week as she'd worked you to your very last limit.

Rowena smacked your arm. Again. And again. She kept hitting you, kept fighting you, tiny fingers clawing. Desperate as a trapped kitten, and just as harmless.

Your mouth curled into a smirk. "What do you think you're doing? Hm, Red?" Then, teasing, "My Little Red Riding Hood."

She still fought you, desperate to get free. Strange as it was given the situation, she was pale as a ghost. Her eyes, you noticed far too late, were wide, filled with panic like a sky painted grey with storm clouds. Filled with fear; pure, unadulterated. Terror much alike the one you knew well for, three years ago, it had been a constant. A nightmare she couldn't seem to wake up from, that followed her everywhere she went and made her fear every shadow she came across.

You instantly released her. Guilt ate at you as she doubled over and gasped for breath. You hadn't squeezed her that hard, had you? Surely, you were careful.

No. Your heart knew it before the reality of the situation reached your brain. You were too rough. You frightened her. You hurt her.

"Rowena, I'm so sorry," you said. "I didn't—"

Were those tears dripping on the bed? Was she crying?

You had crossed her limits, but surely it wasn't that bad. She couldn't be that scared, like bad then, in that hotel room, with the Devil crushing her skull and setting her alight — all the while she was still alive.

Could she?

Surely she was exaggerating.

Right?

"Hey, are you okay?" You reached for her shoulder. She stiffened under your touch. Went still as a statue. "Sweetheart?"

Her eyes, wounded, broken, found yours for a brief moment before falling downwards in shame. A whimper tore from her mouth. More tears fell, and with them came sobs that shattered your heart into a thousand pieces. She was shaking, heart pounding so hard you could hear it, could feel the vibrations under your fingertips.

"Rowena—"

"Don't." She gathered the last remnants of her strength to say it, to make it curt, straight to the point. As close to regular one could get when they were crying.

"What is it?"

She shook her head. Whined. Cried like she hadn't in months, not since the last nightmare. They'd lessened in frequency, reappearing every now and then as opposed to every night like they used to. She'd managed to get them under control over the years, just as she had flashbacks; they weren't gone, never would be, but they weren't as frequent. She could sleep without fear now. She could walk the streets without worrying about something random sending her down a memory lane she wished she could erase from her head.

Was that what you'd done? Had you sent her back to that hotel room, straight into Lucifer's arms?

"Hey," you said softly, in that tone that always calmed her, that always put her at ease. You rubbed her shoulder, caressed it with utmost tenderness. "It's okay. You're okay."

Only she wasn't, was she? Because of you. Because you went too far. The accusations stung. It was an accident; you would never harm her on purpose, would never make her relive the worst day of her life. Would never cause her any kind of pain she didn't want you to.

Yet, you did exactly that.

Your intentions didn't matter. The fact remained that you did it. You swore you never would, and you did it, all over a stupid sexual game.

Tears pricked at your eyes, sharp as knives. Accusatory. Unforgiving. You were a bad person. A bad girlfriend. If Rowena decided it wasn't worth it, that she wanted nothing to do with you, she would be well within her rights.

"Come here." You didn't feel like you deserved it, but you wanted to make it up to her. Wanted to, at the very least, try to fix the damage you'd caused. Wanted to — selfishly so, and you hated yourself for it — feel her against you and, for a short moment, feel like you were doing something good, like you were helping her.

Just like countless times before, she dove into your arms, buried her head in your chest, and crumbled. She wept and sobbed and whined, sad to her core, broken, shattered. Unconsolable.

All because of you.

Guilty tears falling, you wrapped your arms around her. Tight as if your life depended on it. "It's okay," you whispered. "It's okay, baby. You're safe."

And she was. You were the only person she allowed to see this side of her; this frail, broken creature, all defenses down, protective walls torn apart. She knew you wouldn't judge her, wouldn't take advantage. She trusted you.

That only made the guilt that ripped at you worse.

She trusted you, and you did this to her.

She trusted you despite it.

You hurt her, and she still trusted you, still felt safe in your arms. Still sought comfort in you. Still let you see her at her worst, weakest, most vulnerable.

"I'm sorry," you said once again, and wanted to say it many more times, for as long as guilt ate away at you. "I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."

You rocked her writhing form, gently, as if she were a child. Rubbed soft circles across her bare, sweat-soaked back. Nuzzled her hair and kissed her scalp.

"I'm so sorry."

Moment by moment, whisper by whisper, Rowena quieted down. Pulling away, she rubbed at her swollen, scarlet-rimmed eyes.

"You okay?" you asked.

She gave a small nod and, in a raspy voice, said, "Aye."

"Need anything? A glass of water?"

"I'm fine."

She wasn't, but, like always, she put on a front. Her way of regaining some control, some dignity after falling apart.

"Was…" You swallowed a lump in your throat. Licked your lips. Cleared your throat. "Was it a flashback?"

Rowena nodded.

The confirmation shattered you, tore you apart like a knife deep in your gut. You should have known this would happen. You'd choked her before, but never like that. Never that hard. It was your fault she was hurting. Your fault she would spend the night tossing and turning in bed, the memories burning in her mind, fresh as if not a day had gone by since the incident. Your fault she she was back in that hotel room, completely and utterly helpless, terrified to the bone..

It was all your fault.

"I'm sorry," you said for the upteenth time. As if that could change anything. As if an apology would erase the agony she was in — the agony you'd put her in. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Not in a way she didn't like. You'd planned to hurt her plenty tonight. Only, she was supposed to enjoy it. Not curl up in a ball and weep.

"I know," Rowena said, and meant it. She could hold a mean grudge. If there were any ill feelings, she would have let you know.

That only made you feel worse.

She should have been angry. She should have screamed her lungs out, arms flailing wildly, eyes flashing purple. She should have hurt you, or wanted to at the very least.

She should not be this calm about it after what you'd put her through.

It wasn't right.

Noticing your turmoil, Rowena reached for your hand. She was warm to the touch, soft, gentle. Her fingers twined with yours, squeezed tight. A comfort you didn't know you needed. Your nerves instantly calmed, tense muscles relaxed. The woman was magic, and she didn't even have to utter a single spell. All she had to do was touch you, and you were hers, your body, soul, and mind under her command.

Sometimes you hated it.

In times like this, you welcomed it.

"It was an accident," she said, looking straight into your eyes. Making sure you heard her loud and clear. "I'm fine. Don't beat yourself up."

"I shouldn't have choked you."

"You didn't know."

You didn't. But still… "We did it before, so I thought it was fine." You couldn't change what happened, but you could explain. You could make her understand. "I didn't mean to go that far. It just happened. I—"

"I know," Rowena said. "It was an accident, darling."

"I suck."

"You don't."

"I'm a bad girlfriend."

"You're not."

"I'm just like him."

"Don't you dare say that!" The sharpness of her tone startled you. Her eyes, still red and puffy, were fuming, anger coiling in them like a storm about to devastate a town. "You are nothing like Lucifer." She spat the name like the filth it was. "I never want to hear you say things like that again. Have I made myself clear?"

You gave a nod. "I'm sorry."

A smile broke out on her mouth, small but encouraging. "Like I said, it's okay. I'm okay.."

"Are you sure?"

"Aye." You stared. She sighed. "For the most part. Don't worry. The worst has passed."

"I'm—"

Raising a forefinger in warning, she said, "If you say sorry one more time, you are sleeping on the couch."

You threw your arms up in defeat. "Sorry." She raised an eyebrow. You cringed. Nice going, Y/N. "I'll just stop talking."

"That would be greatly appreciated," Rowena deadpanned.

A moment passed in silence. Then you said, "I guess I shouldn't choke you anymore."

"That would be for the best," she agreed. "I can handle it for the most part, but it would be best to prevent future accidents. Some things..."

"I know," you said, reclaiming her hand, squeezing it in emphasis. She didn't have to explain. If she couldn't handle it, that was enough for you to cease doing it. After all, you played these games for mutual pleasure. There was no satisfaction in suffering if it wasn't wanted. "Is there anything else you don't want me to do?"

"Just choking."

"Okay."

"Och, and…" You raised a questioning eyebrow. She bit her lip. "Maybe don't call me Red."

"Of course!" His favorite nickname for her. A bad choice of words on your part, especially when coupled with choking. "It completely slipped my mind."

"It's alright, darling."

Laying down, you waved for Rowena to join you. She was beside you in an instant, nestled in your embrace, curled up against you like a kitten.

"I love you," you said as you played with the locks of her hair, threaded your fingers through them.

"Me, too," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone.

You laid like that for what felt like hours. It took a while, but, to your surprise, Rowena, feeling safe, protected, drifted off to sleep. Smiling, you kissed the top of her head and allowed your eyes to fall closed. Allowed much needed sleep to claim you.

Tomorrow was a new day. Hopefully, a brighter one.

After all, you had a game to finish.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @evil-regal-vampiress @hellbentredhead @angel-e-v-a @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock @fangirlxwritesx67 @rowenaslilwitch @midnight-lestrange

#rowena #rowena macleod #spn #supernatural #spn family #rowena x reader #my fics #fanfiction

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the-lupine-sojourner · 4 years

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A Bond Not Easily Broken [Thorn Oakenshield/Elf!Reader]

Here is another request! This one is from @queenofmankind who is a very very sweet person and a joy to work with. :) I tried to include everything from our discussions, Queen!

Anyway, this fic is loosely based on the song Gemini Feed by Banks.

Alrighty! Let’s get into it! Please note that this is being put up with not much proofreading cus I’m tired lol.

I do hope you guys enjoy it anyway! :)

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

You never would have thought it possible, but now there was no denying it.

Your love, your One, was a surly, easily angered Dwarf King leading an attempt to reclaim Erebor from Smaug.

The trouble was, he didn’t care about the fact that the pair of you were likely supposed to be as One being before Iluvatar.

Thorin had been nothing but bad-tempered, gruff, and passive-aggressive toward you from the moment you’d joined the Company.

Balin had told you Thorin held an old grudge against the elves for failing to come to the inhabitants of Erebor’s aid when Smaug forced them from their home.

While that was a tragic tale, seeing the way he acted toward you soon banished any empathy you had held for him.

At first, he had the sense to at least grumble about you when you were on the other side of the camp where you could barely hear what he was saying, but within weeks he’d taken to insulting you and all elves to your face.

You tried to fight fire with fire, but that only enraged him more, so you tried to give him a better impression of elves by being nice.

You would set up his bedroll for him, make sure he got the first helping of the food, and fill his waterskin for him, among other things, but he’d only gruffly dismiss you with a ‘Thank you’ that was anything but sincere.

At the peak of your frustration and anger at the dwarf leader, you’d turned to Balin, who’d been a boon, accepting your role in the Company (something of a negotiator/ambassador from Rivendell) with the good grace you’d hoped for from Thorin.

You and Balin had discussed the emerging bond between you and Thorin, and you asked him if he was aware of the bond.

Balin shook his head. “If he is, and he likely is, he’s not going to be easy to win, lass. He feels he has been betrayed by Elves and his heart is hardened toward them.” That information helped you understand where Thorin’s attitude toward you came from, but it did nothing to ease your anger and frustration.

You yourself had been orphaned at a young age when orcs and goblins had attacked a band of elves who’d been searching for a new place to settle. Lord Elrond had heard of the tragedy and offered you and the few other survivors sanctuary at Imladris.

Why could you rise above your past when Thorin drowned himself in it? Couldn’t Thorin see the damage he was inflicting on himself by continuing to hold on his grudge?

You soon decided that, since Thorin was not acknowledging you, you decided to get to know the others in the band, to various degrees of acceptance.

Fili and Kili, Thorin’s nephews, were a charming pair, you found, and you felt at ease around them, often riding or walking beside them and talking about many different things.

You would sometimes notice Thorin glaring at you and the boys from the head of the Company, but you didn’t understand why he was so opposed to you talking to his nephews and thus continued your friendship with them.

And then, when you and the Dwarves had finally arrived at Erebor, it all came to a head.

He became positively nasty, lashing out at any who dared question him, and to you he was downright harsh and cruel.

No longer was he passive-aggressive; he was not hiding when he insulted you and your race. He even targeted you specifically more often, and his words were like knives in your heart.

No amount of talking and pleading from you and the Company could snap Thorin out of his foul mood.

Bilbo, that dear little Hobbit, had done his best to comfort you, but even he was dismayed at how intense this ‘Gold Sickness’ Balin spoke of gripped Thorin.

That evening, after the gruff but honorable bowman from Laketown (Bard, wasn’t it?) had tried and failed to negotiate terms for honoring Thorin’s oath that ‘all would share in the wealth of the mountain’, Thorin was in the worst mood you had seen yet.

It had been a foolish idea for you of all people to bring Thorin supper, but there you were.

“Leave it there. Begone!” Thorin barks, nodding toward a table nearby.

You set your jaw as you set the bowl down. “A simple ‘thank you’ would be appreciated.” You grumble without thinking. “Honestly, Thorin, I don’t know why you seem to hate me, but- -”

“Did you not hear me?” Thorin growls, rudely interrupting you and stalking closer to you. “I said ‘begone’!”

“I heard you. I am not leaving. You have no right to treat me the way you have, king or not!” You had suffered his ill will long enough. It was time to fight back. “I have tried to be gracious and give you time to adjust to my presence, but you have only grown worse! This mountain has driven you mad, Thorin. We’ve all noticed it. You are not yourself!”

“And what do you know about me, wench?!” Thorin roars, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I know enough!” You retort hotly. “I know Fili and Kili admire you, though I can’t see why!”

“Do not speak to me of my sister’s sons!” Thorin snaps, drawing away contemptuously. “The traitors.” he grits his teeth, whirling furiously on you, “I have seen the way you ingratiate yourself to them, and my company. Even the burglar has fallen to your charms. They shall soon see your true nature and break off your friendship, but at present they are still blind and foolish.”

You back up a step. That...that had hurt more than you thought it would. “And just what, may I ask is my true nature, since you apparently know me so well?!” You demand, all pretense of control of yourself long gone.

“You and your kin are all oath-breakers and cowards!” Thorin’s voice had risen in bitterness and fury, his eyes blazing with hatred. “Elves claim allegiance and swear fealty, but when the moment arrives for that oath to be fulfilled, you turn your back! You leave those you swore loyalty to suffering and in need!”

“I’m from Rivendell, you asinine Dwarf!” Your voice, too, had become bitter and harsh, the bottled hurt and emotions now flooding out. “It was Thranduil’s decision whether or not to help you defeat Smaug! Given his previous battles against dragons, he elected not to risk his subjects to dragonfire and slaughter! You hold a grudge against Thranduil, and perhaps it has some merit, but you cannot extend that bitterness to all elves, and you know it!”

“Elves are always the same! Lord Elrond claimed to know my grandfather, and yet no aid came from him when we had to forsake our home and flee!”

“He was too far away to offer aid!” You counter, pointing out what you thought was obvious.

But Thorin was too far entrenched in his anger to even notice you had spoken.

“The elves care for nothing beyond their affairs! Oathbreakers, every one of them!”

“I have stood by my oath to offer my services, in case you have forgotten!” You thunder, unwilling to stand by and be insulted.

“For my gold, no doubt.” You shudder subtly at the way Thorin’s voice became something of a hiss, “You and Thranduil are so alike, only offering aid when it results in riches or favors. There is no true loyalty in elves.”

The insult to your sense of loyalty, which you had always tried to uphold, was the final straw.

You draw up to your full height, eyes filled with furious tears and hatred. You could no longer believe that Thorin was truly your One, your love.

Fate must surely be mistaken.

“Then you will not be surprised when I take my leave.” Your voice was icy, concealing the hurricane of hurt and fury beneath it as you spoke with forced calm. “From the moment I decided to travel with you, you have been nothing but cruel and filled with hatred toward me. I have stood it thus far, but no longer. Do battle with Thranduil and Bard if that is your desire. Be slaughtered with your entire Company. I no longer claim allegiance or affiliation with you, Thorin Oakenshield. I sever my ties to you and your company.” You turn on your heel before the tears fell, cursing him in Elvish inwardly though your treacherous heart was almost willing to turn back, to see what effect, if any, your words had on Thorin.

His guttural, enraged Khuzdul, which you assumed was his own curses to you, made up your mind for you and you stalked from the room, tears falling down your cheeks and sobs wracking your throat as you retrieve your belongings hastily, unable to bear staying in Erebor a moment longer.

“Where are you going?” You jolt and spin to see who had spoken, the pack slipping with a dull thud to the floor. “You can’t just leave.”

Poor Bilbo was standing there, confusion and hurt in his eyes. You embrace him.

“You, Fili, Kili, and Balin were my only comfort on this venture, but I was wrong to leave Rivendell, I was wrong to think- -” You shudder at the thought of rejecting your one chance at love, but it had been made so painfully clear Thorin had rejected you first, so there was no hope for your happiness now. “I can’t stay.” You croak, voice half-strangled by a sob as more tears flow. “This place is torturous! I can’t stand it!”

“Please don’t go.” Bilbo’s voice breaks what little was left of your heart after Thorin had shattered it.

“Oh, Bilbo. I wish you the best of luck, but I cannot remain here. I cannot.” You lean down and retrieve your pack and the last few items, shoving them inside and securing the flap over the sack before slinging it onto your shoulders. “Please give my regards to the others.” With that, you string your bow across your shoulders and force yourself to leave without looking back, even though everything in you longed to find a way to stay, if only for Bilbo’s sake.

=#=#=#=#=

You chose to sneak into Thranduil’s camp rather than simply walk in, not expecting to find Gandalf in the camp.

You’d been passing Thranduil’s tent when you heard the wizard’s voice.

From there, you wait til he emerges and ask to speak to Gandalf privately.

“I see things did not happen as I intended.” He muses sadly when you explain yourself. “I had hoped he could resist his petty prejudices and the Gold Sickness, but they were more persistent than I realized.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Have you not felt the thread of fate connecting you to Thorin?” Gandalf asks.

“Like a shackle.” You confess, tears brimming afresh at all the things Thorin had said and done in his rejection. “He has rejected it.”

“I am not so certain, but that remains to be confirmed.” Gandalf comments shrewdly. “I am truly sorry you could not find happiness, [Y/N].”

“I was a fool to think I could love him and he love me in return.” You were so exhausted from the day’s events you couldn’t bring yourself to feel much of anything anymore. Gandalf’s kind arm went around you as your eyes begin to drift closed.

“Do not give up hope just yet, my dear. Thorin Oakenshield may surprise you yet.” Was the last thing you heard as sleep overtook you.

=#=#=#=#=

The next morning was agony.

Your heart, that treacherous organ which had been trod on and abused so harshly, yearned for the Company, and perhaps to continue attempting to get through to Thorin despite your words yesterday.

You noted in despair that overnight the dwarves had barricaded the entrance, doubtless on Thorin’s orders, so any entrance to Erebor was now impossible unless Thorin wished it.

The Company had foolishly shut the secret door once Smaug had left and now the only other entrance to Erebor was barricaded.

You couldn’t go back to the Company if you wanted to, now.

There was, perhaps, a part of you that had said the harsh words in the hopes that it would come as enough of a shock that Thorin would break free of the sickness that gripped him and beg you to stay.

You had hoped, should he have broken free at your words, that he’d become the dwarf Fili and Kili described from their childhood.

That version of Thorin, surely, wouldn’t have treated a lady, much less his One, the way the present Thorin had.

You hoped he might have gone after you, but it seemed Thorin was as cold and impassive as ever.

There were only two options in regards to the fragile bond between you and Thorin; you could either miraculously work it out and come to realize how happy you could make each other (highly unlikely) or you could sever the bond and live without the feeling of being with your One the rest of your very, very long life and perhaps even in the Grey Havens, should you be premitted to journey there.

When the thought of snapping the bond occured to you, you paled, clutching your aching heart. It seemed even now your heart clung to hope in Thorin, but you couldn’t see why.

But still, perhaps your heart knew things you did not, so you decided to wait it out, refusing to sever your one chance at love.

=#=#=#=#=

In the course of the day, things took an ill turn when it was revealed that the Arkenstone had been delivered to Bard and Thranduil as a bargaining chip for the promised gold.

Thorin, if it were possible, grew even more foul tempered, demanding the return of Arkenstone and vowing death to those who held it.

His eyes then glared over the army of elves and fishermen gathered before Erebor, and somehow he spotted you standing in the first few ranks of elves, unable to help yourself.

He grew so livid you thought for sure he would explode from the sheer force of his anger. He cursed you and all elves so thoroughly, tears sprang to your eyes.

“I was right about you!” Thorin roars, “Oathbreaker! Coward! Traitor!” He heaped insults in english and Khuzdul onto your head in utter contempt and fury as you stood shaking.

It’s then something happened that turned the tide of events yet again.

Bilbo spoke up. “I gave it to them.” Is all he said. “Leave Y/N out of this.”

Your heart clenches as the dwarf king’s fury and wrath were unleashed on the poor Hobbit.

Bilbo bravely stood his ground, berating Thorin for being so cold and cruel to you, and the company, and remarking that the dwarf he had met at his house would never have acted this way.

That was the final straw, Thorin declaring that Bilbo should be thrown from the ramparts.

You squeak in horror, tense seconds creeping by as no one moves to execute the unthinkable command.

Thorin then grabs Bilbo and prepares to carry out his own orders, Bilbo leaning precariously out over the edge when Gandalf materializes next to you, magic increasing his voice’s volume as he strides forward.

“If you don’t like my bulgar, please do not damage him! Return him to me.” The wizard’s presence seems to shock Thorin enough that Bilbo slips away unheeded. The dwarves tug Bilbo to the side and attach a rope to the wall, sending Bilbo down to Gandalf before Thorin could remember his wrath at the unfortunate Hobbit.

As Gandalf remarks at how poor Thorin’s performance as King Under the Mountain was, Bilbo races toward the wizard and you, who had stepped up to offer comfort to your friend after what had just happened.

Bilbo buried his face in your abdomen in fright, shaken at nearly being killed by a dwarf he had called friend.

Once you had clung to the hope that, given time, Thorin’s heart would soften toward you and he would accept you as his One.

Now...that hope had withered near to the point of death. Soon enough, it would succumb to the bitter venom Thorin had unleashed on you and it would die and you both would forever live with no other lover, no other person that you could love like your One.

Then, as tension rose higher still, an army of dwarves arrived, with a particularly rowdy dwarf at the head. As Thranduil ordered his army to face the newcomers, Gandalf explained that the rowdy dwarf was Thorin’s cousin, Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills.

And that, of the two dwarves, Thorin was the more reasonable.

You swore under your breath. There was absolutely no chance of peace now.

After a brief skirmish that quickly turned into war between Thranduil’s army and the dwarves’, there arose out of the earth a monstrous creature Gandalf called a ‘wereworm’, a nasty thing that ate earth greedily and left a tunnel in its wake.

It disappeared to continue it’s feast, and from the exit in the tunnel emerged a grotesque army of Orcs, some of which rode large evil wargs toward the dwarves and elves, who had stopped fighting in shock at this turn of events.

The battle was grim and gory and all around you was pain and death until the sound of a bell tolling out offered a brief respite. It came from the mountain and out of the hole the bell had made in the barricade came Thorin and his Company, charging the army of Orcs as the remainder of the Dwarf army regrouped around the King.

The battle continued on and, though you fought as well as you could, you knew it was only a matter of time til you were overcome.

Then you saw Thorin and a select few others (Dwalin, Fili, and Kili) riding toward Ravenhill, where the Orcs’ commander was stationed.

Shortly after that, despite your misgivings, you find a mount on the strange goats the dwarves rode and take off after them.

If the dwarves had not cleared the way, you would never have made it.

You watch as Thorin searches for the orc commander in vain. You stayed back, having left your mount at a distance so you could come upon the group stealthily.

You had no idea how Thorin would receive you, and you didn’t want to find out yet.

The orc commander (or so you assumed) then appeared, just as the group was preparing to retrieve Fili and Kili from the tower they’d been scouting, the large orc dragging Fili by the hair.

Your heart was pounding as you grab an arrow in your quiver. Sighting along the shaft, you released it swiftly. The arrow sunk into the orc’s chest, near the shoulder, not where you wanted, but it was enough that Fili was released to drop a worrying distance.

Luckily, Fili was able to survive, with a few minor injuries, by rolling. You sent another arrow into the commander during the chaos you created. This time, the arrow sank into the orc’s throat, and he gurgled, then fell.

That had the desired effect; the orcs retreated, dragging the body of their leader behind them. You jog out to meet the others and find Thorin staring at you as if you were a ghost.

You pressed forward, unwilling to stay and see what reaction he would have next as you race to find Kili. Fili was searching too and you soon found him.

You brought the boys back to the others, who embraced them and were generally thrilled to see the dwarf princes alive and well.

“I thought you disavowed yourself from myself and my company.” Thorin’s voice was shocked, but not angry, coming from behind you. Your heart hammered as you make yourself slowly spin.

“I...saw you ride up here. Something came over me. I’m not sure what.” You explain, unsure how to take his reaction. The orcs were still retreating, and behind you you see the large eagles that had borne you from the orcs after your escape from Goblin Town arrive and make quick work of the orcs before they could regroup and decide to attack again.

You were suddenly free to talk further with Thorin, or leave.

For some reason, your feet refused to move. You felt rooted to the spot.

“I owe you my gratitude and sincerest apologies.” He murmurs softly, more softly than he had ever spoken to you. You take a step back. This was a new side of Thorin and you weren’t sure how to proceed. “You saved my sister-son. But, the way I treated you within Erebor and at the gate this morning...it disgusts me to recall.” You know he means it but...there’s a part of you that tortures you with the thought that this isn’t real.

“It wasn’t entirely you in Erebor. That gold...the sickness…” You're unsure what you’re saying, but Thorin sighs heavily, head hanging in what might be shame. You weren’t sure.

“Aye, the sickness was there, but many resisted. Had I been stronger, I would never have yielded to the sickness. That, and I owe you still more apologies for my actions and words toward you along our road here. I have never once treated you as you deserve, and for that I am forever ashamed of myself.”

“Thorin…” You can’t help wanting to comfort him as he bares himself to you.

The others retreated, offering you and Thorin what privacy they could.

“No, please, Y/N, let me finish.” Thorin mumbles, genuinely contrite. “I have always strove to be an honorable dwarf, respectable, a worthy leader of my people.”

One of the things I admire about you, you muse inwardly.

“Mahal knows I’ve made a fool of myself many times, and failed to uphold the standard I wished to achieve. I refused to see the reason in the elve’s actions after Smaug came, allowing myself to be consumed by bitterness and hatred for far too long. I unleashed that bitterness and prejudice on you and I can never make amends for it.” He slowly takes a step forward.

Your heart begged you to embrace him, but your mind, still hurting from all the terrible curses and words Thorin had hurled at you, bade you stay where you were.

“If you would allow me to start anew, I should like to regain your trust and show you the way dwarves display their love.” His hand slowly reaches for yours and you can’t find it in you to resist.

You even allow him to lay a gentle, feather-like kiss on your knuckles, your skin prickling pleasantly at the sensation.

This was all you wanted, to love and be loved.

“...I think...I think I would like that, Thorin Oakenshield.”

#Fanfiction #Fanfiction Request #The Hobbit #Battle of the Five Armies #BotFA #Angsty #Hurt/Comfort #thorin x reader #Thorin Oakenshield #Elf!Reader #Thorin/Elf!Reader

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etlunainmorte · 4 years

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“As she comes to the city, hollow hands empty,

Eyes open to what lies in wait for her,”

She does not weep nor wail,

In her eyes, home has always been burning.”

***

🌙 To You Who Rejected Me 🌙

***

"Now, where could that thing be?" Griffon mused to himself as he flew high above the shores of Delphi, looking for that vital something that his master lost when he dived into the ocean to escape those fire - wielding Elves attacking him. The demonic bird has been searching for almost an hour but, with no such luck. "Honestly, it could turn up just about anywhere!" He complained in utter frustration. "This is hopeless!"

The bird was about to give up on his search when he noticed something gleaming at the corner of his eye. He looked down and squinted those golden eyes of his until he finally saw the thing. Indeed, it was right there, washed up on the shore and almost covered with sand and sea weeds.

There it was, V's antique metal cane!

"There ya are!" Griffon flew down to fetch the thing, at the same time shooing the sea gulls that were trying to claim it as their own like it was some kind of a rare sea artifact, almost fighting over it. "HEY, I SAID, SHOO!" The familiar screeched once more as he let out a weak electrical current to scare the noisy birds away, and it worked to perfection.

"Hoho! Thought I'd never see ya again!" Griffon opened his talons wide, ready to pick up V's cane,...

"What in the - ?!" The bird muttered the moment his talons came into contact with the metal cane. It felt somehow hot, and not just warm. He was not sure whether his eyes were playing tricks on him but, the thing did seem to glow. And finally, the metal cane seemed to tremble a bit against his talons, like it was alive. Sentient.

Still hovering above the sand with V's metal cane in his talons, the demonic bird squinted his eyes in suspicion. Master and familiar alike knew that the cane was nothing but an old piece of metal, and not a source of any kind of power, demonic or not. An aid for V's,... disability. Nothing more.

However, despite that, Griffon could feel something coming from the cane. Like it was emanating some form of unknown power. He just knew it deep within his core.

But, being unimaginably tired after what happened last night, Griffon ignored the cane, ruffled his feathers, and flew back to where Dante and his master were.

"I'm heckin’ tired." Griffon uttered as his wings took him to his destination - the ruins of Apollo's temple. "I'll let Shakespeare deal with ya."

"Your foot seem fine to me, V." Dante said for the third time since morning.

"I could've sworn I felt this,... excruciating pain when I was attacked,... "

"Well, your foot seem,... fine to me!" And that was the fourth time since morning. "Look, V: you're a son of Sparda. Maybe the Demon blood's finally kickin' in and healed your wounds?"

And to this, V only shook his head. It's impossible for him, after all.

No matter how much or how intense Dante stared at his brother's allegedly injured left foot, he just couldn't find anything wrong with it, save for the missing pair of the poet's old gladiator sandals, and the frayed, almost tattered end of his pants, like something burned it. If anything, to Dante's eyes, V only seemed to have lost the other pair of his unspeakably tacky footwear. And a good riddance to it, if he may add! To the legendary Devil Hunter, it seemed so difficult to move and fight Demons with such footwear. And he would never deny that fact, despite knowing that he could hurt his brother's feelings for having such a questionable taste in fashion.

On the other hand, to V, it was an entirely different story. For, only last night, he swore his foot got burned badly due to the attack. So badly and so painful, he was actually scared to look at it.

And now, as he looked, no, stared, at his foot with disbelief, he couldn't help but feel utterly mystified. First, there was this strange presence that saved him from the enemies, and now this.

It's as if nothing happened to his foot, at all!

And honestly? V could not believe his sheer, dumb luck.

Or, was it even luck?

After all, since those Elves, and her, entered their lives, V and his brother experienced nothing but the unusual. The unknown. And he felt that he must learn to accept such things. Get used to them, so to speak.

V pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and knitting his eyebrows as a helpless sigh escaped his parched lips. Well, there's no use raking up the past. They must focus on the present. They must focus on the now. And for now, they must focus on getting to the Elven world in one piece. The portal led them to Delphi of all places, and V knew it meant something. They were getting really close to their destination. And he knew they would face an even greater danger when they get there. Well, it's not like the Elves would give them a warm welcome or anything. They're still wanted persons, after all.

Opening his eyes once more, he noticed Griffon flying towards them, finally carrying his lost metal cane. He gave a weak smile as the loyal familiar gave the cane back to him and landed on his waiting arm.

Then, V noticed something strange. So did Dante.

"No wisecracks or something?" Dante asked the demonic bird as he crossed his arms and tapped his boot on the ground.

"You do seem a bit quiet." V added, raising his eyebrow as he looked at his familiar.

"Ahh, V," Griffon stuttered, unsure how to begin. " ... didn't ya notice anythin',... weird?"

"Pardon?" The poet asked as Griffon's eyes wandered to the metal cane in his right hand.

"That thing!" The demonic bird squawked.

"Ugh, now what - ?" Dante began when a woman approached them, getting their attention and making them drop their conversation, much to Griffon's frustration.

"Can we help you, lady?" With a flashy grin, the younger brother graciously asked the woman, who was smiling nervously as her eyes went back and forth from him, to V, to the strange avian on the poet's arm.

"I, ahh,... " The lady stuttered, not sure how to address the situation.

"Yes?" And Dante didn't seem to help with the situation, at all. The woman became somewhat more nervous than before she approached them.

Inhaling through her nose and clearing her throat, she began. “Yes, well," She said, pointing at Griffon with a trembling finger. “The other guests are getting anxious of your,… ahh,… pet bird."

"Is that so?" Dante answered with a boisterous voice. "Don't you worry a thing about our pet bird! You see, he's a rare - "

“I see. Don’t worry.”

All of a sudden, V heard a clear and distinct voice, overlapping with the woman and his brother's voices.

“These are my loyal,… companions. They would bring no harm to any of the innocent people here. That,…”

V's hands went up to his temples as he tried to distinguish and trace where the voice was actually coming from, when the voice itself took over his hearing, drowning out the other voices, and all the other noises going on around him.

“I can assure you.”

The lady let out a helpless laugh, then nodded. “Okay. Whatever you say.” She hastily moved away from Dante to give herself a safe distance from him and Griffon and clumsily pointed at the breathtaking horizon. “Well, now, enjoy your stay here at Delphi!”

The woman, being proud of herself for handling the difficult situation, walked away with a huge smile on her face. And Dante, being a huge flirt, started following the woman.

However, when his brother stepped away, V noticed something taking his place where he stood.

V's eyes narrowed for a second for what he saw. He closed his eyes, rubbed the tiredness and fatigue off them, and opened them once more. However, despite that, the strange figure was still there.

V saw,... himself.

And he, the other him, was drinking in the beautiful sight of Delphi's ruins around him.

“So, V,…” He heard Griffon ask all of a sudden. “Are we going to look for that thing there?”

"I'm sorry - ?" V turned to his left to look at Griffon but, the demonic bird was nowhere to be found.

“Not this time.” V turned towards his other self at the sound of his voice and noticed Griffon, himself, flying towards him. “For now, I need to take a rest and reflect upon our journey, so far.”

V almost fell off the old bench he was sitting on.

That voice,...

... it really was him.

But,... how?!

“The Yamato really does wonders, huh?” the Griffon who was with the other V said, then chuckled, ruffling his own feathers in delight with tiny shakes. “Who knew it would go directly to you and not to that kid Nero?”

"The Yamato?" His other self whispered as V followed him and his familiar on their way towards the ruins of Apollo's temple. What has the Yamato got to do with all this?

“For one thing, I’ am the rightful owner of the Yamato, not the boy Nero.” The other V answered as he skipped some rocks along the pathway that led to the ruins of the temple. “I think it was fitting that it answered to me. But, as grateful as I’ am that it was returned to me,” he said, stopping at what looked like the remains of an altar. “I must not abuse my fragile body by using it over and over to transport us. You see,” He began tracing the remains with the tip of his cane. “It consumes way too much of my,… demonic power. I must be wary of that fact.”

Of course, V thought as he observed what the other V was doing. I don't have,... that much demonic power.

“Aha, so that’s why we had to hitch that stinkin’ bus ride with that awful bitch! Didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut!” And the other Griffon sounded less rude, either.

“Now, be nice to our little human.” V reprimanded the demonic bird. “We will ’hitch’ on the same vehicle on the way back.”

“Ugh! Not again,…”

V watched in amusement how this other Griffon threw tantrums. However, his other self drew V's attention back. He was looking at the altar with an unreadable expression, tracing the edges of the marble altar with his cane.

Then, all of a sudden, he started reciting the few lines of a poem that was very dear to him. It was,...

“As she comes to the city, hollow hands empty,

Eyes open to what lies in wait for her,”

His mother's favorite poem,...

V closed his eyes and recited the old poem along with his other self.

“She does not weep nor wail,

In her eyes, home has always been burning.”

His eyes closed, his senses surrendered to the vision before him, he allowed nostalgia to take over his entire being. Of his mother reading this same poem to him, of her tales about a Princess named Cassandra who was gifted by the God Apollo with the curse of predicting the future,...

... of this hidden gateway of Delphi where she went to after being rejected and stoned by her own people,...

V opened his eyes, feeling something pulling him back from his reverie to the present, like a powerful force.

It was then when he was greeted by the sight of a morphing demonic entity right before his other self, who he assumed was one of his familiars.

He watched in awe as the familiar morphed into multiple pulsing dark vines that filled the entire altar. Him and his other self took a step back as roses of all shapes and sizes sprouted from the dark vines, and when his other self pulled something from the largest rose, his eyes grew wide with shock.

It was the Yamato, only it was glowing in a very unusual way.

V wanted to listen more, to know more, to watch what happens next but, the vision itself began getting blurry as their voices became more and more warped, like a disrupted signal of an old television. The vision, and the voices, warped and warped, until only a distorted and blurry version was left. And before the vision entirely vanished, V saw his other self raising the sword,...

... and slicing the air before him, creating a portal that led him somewhere,...

"V!" He heard Dante's voice from afar, like he was being called by him from the other end of a long tunnel. "V!" He felt a strong hand go down on his shoulder, making him turn around. "What are you doing? I was looking all over for you!"

The poet could barely believe what just happened. He was back, and he felt like he just woke up from a very long dream.

"I, ahh,... " V stuttered, turning back to the altar and seeing nothing there.

"Hey, V," Griffon, who just landed on his waiting arm, asked. " ... are you okay?"

"The gateway,... " The poet uttered, the vision he saw still crystal clear on his mind.

"What gateway?" Dante questioned.

"There's a gateway here." V reiterated as he walked closer towards the altar where his other self vanished. "It was opened using the Yamato."

"How did you know that?" With a raised eyebrow, Dante asked in confusion. "And besides, even if that's true, we can't really use the Yamato. I mean, it's with its owner on the other side of the globe right now."

"We can't rely on Vergil this time, I know." V answered as thoughts and ideas ran through his head like an unstoppable drill. "But, what if the gate,... was left open? What if it was never closed?"

Dante's mouth fell open at the possibility. Only a slight drawback made him close it again and shake his head in disapproval. "But, I see no gate here! All I see in this place are rocks and statues and ruins and tourists everywhere."

V turned to Griffon, who drew back at the intensity in his master's facial features. "Do it."

"Do what?" The familiar questioned.

"Distract the people while I look for the portal."

"How could I do that?! How am I - ?!"

"Alright! I'll do it!" Dante offered, turning away from them and walking away from the altar as he began singing something. And it's working. The tourists, especially the ladies, started listening to him and flocking before him. "I'm lying alone with my head on the phone, thinking of you 'till it hurts,... "

V grabbed this opportunity to look for the portal. He can't be wrong, the vision can't be wrong! They must get to the Elven world and he would do whatever it takes to get there.

He will do whatever it takes to get to her and fix this huge mess that was messing with their lives,...

It was then when he noticed something small and gleaming right before him. He reached out a single finger to touch it, and lo and behold, the small gleam made a tiny ripple that reflected so many bright colors. Like a prism. Another touch of his finger produced a huge ripple, revealing its true nature in all its entirety. Indeed, it was a gate. In the form of a curtain that was seemingly made of glass that reflected light like numerous precious gems.

"Whoa! That looks so unreal!" Griffon, who watched the entire thing with curious eyes, said in awe. "How did you know all this, V?!"

"I'll explain later." The poet answered. "For now, we should press on."

"I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you - " Dante sang with much gusto, wowing his audience, when he suddenly heard a familiar whistle. He stopped singing and turned around to see V beckoning for him to come join him and Griffon. The Devil Hunter turned back to his audience, made an incredibly believable shocked expression, and pointed at the sky. "Thunderstorm! Incoming thunderstorm! Run and hide for your lives!"

The people instantly believed him, scrambling and running all over the place to shield themselves from Dante's imaginary thunderstorm. The younger brother took this opportunity to join V.

"How in the world - ?!" Dante began questioning at the sight of the translucent gateway but, he was cut short as Griffon went behind him and started pushing him towards the gate.

"I'll explain later! We must hurry!" V ordered, then went through the curtain, looking as if he just vanished into thin air.

"Let's get goin', lover boy!" Griffon squawked, grabbing onto Dante's shoulders with his talons.

"I swear I need to go to therapy after all this." The Devil Hunter said as he, too, went through the curtain and vanished.

***

🌙 Finally! And this one took longer than expected. Enjoy!😁😁😁❤❤❤ 🌙

🌙 Thank you so much to these lovelies, @dreaming-gamer , @la-vita and @thottyonmainsquid .❤❤❤ 🌙

***

A few moments later, Dante arrived at the other side. But, his path was blocked by V, himself, who was standing still, his back turned away from him.

"You alright there, V?" Dante asked as he scratched his temple in confusion. "Aren't we - ?"

"Yes, we are." V cut him off, raising his metal cane and using it to point at something before the two of them. "We have finally arrived."

The younger brother followed V's line of sight, and what he saw before him simply took his breath away.

"Holy mama - !" Dante breathed in awe at the marvelous sight.

***

🌙

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#devil may cry 5 #dmc 5 #vitale #to you who rejected me #v x reader #v x you #chapter 2 #the translucent gateway

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