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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 1 month ago

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Roll for Initiative--Part 8 (Final)

Joe’s managed to keep the lock down about his limited knowledge on Dungeons & Dragons. He won’t say he learned about it because of you.

It only takes one text message though for the truth to start to unravel. If slaying dragons and BBEGs isn’t the place to confess feelings, where is?

CW: Game base violence, death (only in the campaign)

Joe Burrow x Black Reader.

Series Masterlist

Complete Masterlist

The house is alive. Even from the back of the house, on your way to the backyard, to pass off the tray of meats that wait for their fire end, a charr and a smoked flavor to meet between buns, you can hear the voices carrying on from the living room. This isn’t even half of the people who agreed to come--just your family and Joe’s currently as they help with the set up efforts. But even just them makes the house feel so much smaller, so much more lived in.

Joe stands, on the other side of the glass doors, with the dark navy apron tied around him, next to your dad as get started on the grill. You’re glad you got the dishes with the plastic lids to keep them protected in the late August heat and from whatever delays the two of them are experiencing. “You would have to go and get the expensive shit,” your dad teases.

“It came highly rated,” Joe defends with a laugh. “And there were several that were more expensive but I was out voted.”

Something finally clicks, a ticking before the sound of something whooshing. Both your dad and Joe exhale, clearly being the noise that they needed to hear. “There we go,” your dad murmurs, taking the dish from you.

When Joe proposed a house warming for your official move in and a watch party after getting the heads up that the final edits were complete alongside the release dates, you’d hesitated. Though it’s taken you and him over several lengthy conversations to settle on how things would work once you moved in, and were met with a relatively smooth move in process thanks to some help from your parents, Joe, and Ja’Marr, you weren't sure that the two of you could pull off such a party to that scale just three weeks after you officially moved in. It didn’t feel like enough time between your job, his training camps, and trying to get the house actually in order. Yet, Joe remained convinced you could. ‘We just need a plan,’ he returned, ever so cool as always.

And planned you two did, between lunch shifts, on the weekends, as the two of you moved and rearranged furniture you were able to build a rather solid plan on how to hosts such a large event. Even if planning did resort in a silent but heated exchange about which grill to acquire last week--a battle of wills and stares that sent one couple away from the aisle as you and Joe stood there. Even though the grills were all expensive and though it was Joe’s card on the line, you still fought for a more sensible option--the one that had 0.1 start rating and was about 90 dollars cheaper. Joe only conceded if you agreed to the extended warranty on the item. You didn’t think it was worth getting the extra insurance, but relented in the end.

“Oh, that’s new,” Robin quips behind you. She carries with her the second tray of patties, hotdogs, and sausages. When you look over your shoulder, you spot her motioning towards the marble side table from your apartment tucked up near the back sliding doors, holding a newly acquired plant.

“Table’s from my old place.”

You’re careful not to say it’s yours because it’s not about what’s yours and what’s Joe’s anymore. It’s about the meddling, the finding an our between the two of you. The big pieces that stayed with you during the move were the purple couch, the DIY’d coffee table and bookshelf, the big pieces of artwork, and some decorative vases. The smaller pieces of art have landed in a small pile in your personal cave/reading space that will be hung eventually. Moving from your apartment to moving in with Joe was a slow process and you know the settling will be even slower.

“It looks like a solid piece. Cute plant too. I tried to convince Joe to put some more green in when he first bought it, but he objected like it was going to kill him.”

“Mom, I would’ve killed any and every plant I bought,” Joe answers, taking the dish from her.

“But now you won’t?” she questions.

“Because I won’t let him kill it,” you laugh. “Dad, this is Robin, Joe’s mom. I think Jimmy is somewhere, but I lost him on the way outside.”

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Robin smiles, taking your father’s hand.

“Micah,” your dad returns. “Nice to meet you too.” The smile is a little unsure, tight on his face. But Robin doesn’t ask where he’s been, why he hasn’t been around before. Instead she talks about being excited to watch the campaign, to see what you and Joe have been so secretive about. Your dad eases into the conversation, taking it in stride as he agrees he’s excited too.

“Can I get the time, baby?” Joe questions. “My phone is in my office I’m pretty sure.”

“11:22. Thirty-eight minutes until both episodes drop.”

“Episodes?” your dad questions.

“They split it into two parts from what I last heard. We’ll have an intermission at the end of part one for chatting, bathroom breaks, whatever else people need for maybe twenty minutes?” You bring the last part to Joe, unsure of how much time is too little or too much.

“I’d say closer to thirty minutes. It’ll be a big group,” Joe returns.

It sounds fair enough so you nod at the suggestion. “I’m glad the AC serviced when it was,” you mutter to yourself and turn to go back inside of the house.

The summer is hot, even in Ohio, and with such a large party, not the full 25 of them but from Joe’s last count at least 19 of them, it will only be hotter in the house too.You’d nearly taken the later appointment for the AC unit when you called but decided to do it sooner rather than later, and the very next day after you agreed to the earlier one, Joe brought up the party. Part of your agreement with Joe is that you’d handle scheduling the house maintenance things. He’d put you down as the contact for the gardeners and lawn services. You have the numbers for all the plumbers, roofing specialists. Tasks that Joe didn’t love doing, but handled because he had to. Though it’s always Joe’s card they run, you still feel like you have some vote, some say to ensure that someone’s always home when the work needs to be done, putting the appointments on the calendar.

“It was a good call,” Joe comments, sliding up to you. “You okay?”

“Thinking,” you return. There’s still work inside to do before you’re ready for all of the boys to come and watch the campaign. But part of you is not fully ready, still anxious about if you’re forgetting anything, if somehow you’ve left something unchecked off the list.

So you linger, staring into the doors but not quite seeing.

His arms slide around your waist. The hold is warm and grounding as he presses a kiss to your cheek. “The boys should be over in like twenty minutes. Just as a recap before you go on a spiral: The boys are bringing some drinks--alcoholic and non alike. But Tee specifically said that he was putting himself in charge of plates, cups, utensils and napkins because he wanted a specific brand. You are not forgetting anything, okay?”

“Thank you for that,” you laugh, knowing you’ve bugged Joe at least four times about it yesterday. “And Tee said he’d be here at 11:40, right?”

“He did. Enjoy the charcuterie board making and the fruit and veggie platters, but if you come ask me about plates, or cups, or drinks, I will bench you.”

“It’s my own party! You can’t bench me.”

“I can and I will.”

“Have I been annoying about it?”

“I wouldn’t say annoying,” Joe laughs, patting at your stomach and then pulling away. “But you have been insistent about it. Just as much as you’re nervous to host, so am I, and I don’t think my brain can handle another one of your worry spirals. We can crash and spiral after a problem comes up. But not before.”

“Will be saving all crashes for later.” You bring his right hand to your lips, a feather light kiss over the scar along his tendon. “Enjoy the grill.”

You return inside to see your mom and Jimmy and Joe’s brothers ensuring there’s plenty of seating for the viewing. Jimmy waves when he spots you, “You didn’t tell me your dad was back.”

It hasn’t been an easy transition. Your mother finds him at times, waiting at the corner of their shared bed waiting and though she’s told him plenty of times he doesn’t have any inspections to pass, the habit is deeply ingrained. “Sorry about that,” you return. “A little distracted with life. But he’s in the backyard.”

“Heard he’s taking the charge of teaching Joe on the grill. I wish him well,” Jimmy laughs in the midst of the hug. Between you and Joe, you take on most of the cooking during the offseason and for the cheat days, while Joe’s chef handles his dietary needs during the season. It’s no secret that Joe’s a bit clumsy in the kitchen.

Jimmy gives your hands another squeeze after he releases you from the hug. “Excited to see what you cooked up for this story here. Joe’s said it was pretty amazing.”

“I paid him to say that. But thank you. It means a lot.”

“Oh, don’t let him hear you say that. Y’all okay in here? I do need to witness Joe at the grill for how well or terrible it turns out.”

“Get a picture too please,” you call to Jimmy’s retreating figure.

“Absolutely,” he laughs and then slips around the corner.

As you work on the platters, you realize as you open up cabinets and fiddle in drawers, there’s plenty of space for you, you realize. When you sneak your favorite snacks into the cabinet, nothing feels like sides that can’t be encroached upon. Except for where you tuck away your favorite double stuffed oreos, that you’re sure isn’t all that hidden. There’s pieces of you that feel right, like the coasters, and saucers, and thrifted mugs that perfectly accent the white of Joe’s dining ware sets. It’s your magnet collection on the fridge surrounding the notes and reminders.

A house lived in by two people of different taste learning to make it work. Like you didn’t fight Joe about the black comforter set, but did ask for more pillows. Orange got immediately vetoed but the deep emerald green ones did make the cut. Your respective stuffed animals resting against a pillow each on your sides of the bed--Joe’s white teddy bear on the left side and your bengals bear on the right.

“Looks good,” your mother comments right as you finish up on the arrangements, leaving enough space for the drinks, and plates for when Tee arrives.

“It’s not too much is it?”

“No,” your mother laughs. “I don’t think it’s too much.”

You still worry though, that there’s almost too much food, too many options. Then, when all the guys arrive and you watch the boys load up their plates as the premiere countdown blasts through the house, the tune changes. You realize there’s no such thing as too much food when dealing with half a football team. There’s only too little food to be concerned about. Tee arrived promptly at 11:40 and by that time the first rounds of non burnt burgers were coming off the grill, perfect timing. The heat was turnt a little too high, but thankfully only two burgers were sacrificed to the flames.

And now as less than a minute ticks by, you realize that your dad and Joe’s team efforts to have at least one container of patties and hotdogs ready was not an overestimation, but nearly an underestimation.

“I am so glad I did not ever have to feed an athlete,” your mom teases settled in on the couch with her plate.

Ja’Marr laughs from behind her, settling into one of the folding chairs. “We not that bad. Promise.”

“Thirty seconds,” you shout to the people outside. The line thins, more and more shuffling inside with their plates. Tee did go a good job on selecting the thicker red plates and even came with a box of trashbags at the ready too.

“Go, go, I got this,” Joe urges. Your father dances, clearly torn between helping but not wanting to miss a second of the video.

You slide in and take the tongs from your father. “Go, Dad. I’ll help.”

“The burgers don’t need too long, okay?”

“Cheese on yours?” you ask.

“If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t, Dad. Go.”

He crosses into the threshold just as the music ends, bells and twinkling fading out only to be replaced by a tune of strings and air instruments that sound like they’re floating. It runs for a minute, maybe two, with credits you assume before Tee’s voice over the speakers. You're thankful for how well the sound system works, as you and Joe remain outside to finish the last few pieces.

“Welcome weary travelers. We start our journey here on the outskirts of Waterdeep, in the thicket of the jungle. Unsuspecting heroes and thieves, sorcerers and wizards, the undead and the almost dead alike, thrown into the ring. Praised for prowess, brought down to their knees once a year for the blood of the sport. Would you care to see what happens next?” There’s a cheer from those assembled inside that erupts during the pause after his introduction.

Your voice follows after. “The six of you start your journey miles before we pick up. But every year, there is a call. A search wide and far for the best of the best, the lowest of the lowest, the most conniving, the most cutthroat to see if they’re really made of the steel and wits needed or if they are dry rotted cloth.

“Cam, we start with you, nestled into the corner of this tavern. The doors are constantly opening and shutting. A wave of people in and out, in and out. There’s an odd assortment of people who don’t seem to leave. Your scroll told you to be here, at high noon, to settle into the southwest corner and to watch. So you do of course. There’s a halfing at the bar, the far end, who keeps peeking around at every thud and creak of the bar. Behind them, tucked into the shadows is someone, the black of their hood shadows out their face, but you catch the tip, tap, tip, tap, of their foot. Like they too might be waiting.

“A few seats down from the halfing and the shadowed creature, you notice a man, sans a shirt, scars that almost look like stripes around his ribs. He sits, hunched forward. The sound of his cup spinning around on the table plays in the background of your ears. In front of you, ahead by a table or two a half orc and an elf sit, across from each other. They look rather relaxed, like they’re not worried. But you can see, as you watch longer, the shifty gaze of this elf. Watching and waiting, watching and waiting. And all around the barkeep shuffles, hands full of ales--people are in and in and out. Yet those other five creatures never leave.”

“Are those who I think they are?” Cam asks.

Your recorded laughter mixes in with the laughter of the group inside watching. You can easily recall how excited Cam was to realize that maybe his other teammates were being described in the scene; Andrei’s vampiric fighter, B.J.’s halfing ranger, Mike Holton’s elf sorcerer, Chase’s half-orc barbarian, Ja’Marr’s half-orc druid, and Cam as a human paladin.

“What would you like to do?” Your voice sounds way too soft even over the speakers in the video. The nerves rocked you the night before. You woke every hour on the hour and you can hear back now in your voice.

“Oh, shoot, I didn’t realize I was kickin’ us off. Um, what did the scroll say again?”

It took a few minutes for the group as you got started to warm up, to feel out how much they could actually do and how much of your job was just to let the vibes roll, to guide them gently as you could to the right beats, but that the story would unfold based on their actions. But as the video plays, their comfort becomes clear. The edit itself makes the dead air invisible as they read their sheets, and keeps the lively discussion and animated cheers in. Their footing stabilized faster than you thought and it became, eventually, less about you prompting them and much more about you having to reign them back in, keep them focused on the objective at hand.

“I, for one,” Andrei’s voice interjects, “do not have the time to be on a team of bumbling idiots like you.” His character immediately rejected the idea of being paired up with this group based on his backstory, a fighter turned and now plagued to crave human blood, to live centuries for all the harm he caused. So his push back on joining the team makes sense now in retrospect but in the moment his rejection felt like a poignant sting.

“Ay, yo, you want the treasure or not?” Ja’Marr questions, in character if you remember correctly. “Because I don’t want no negativity on my team when we have these games to win. I’m trying to be rich, you feel me? I been out here beggin’ on my mama and sh--. I need bank to take back to my village, okay?”

“We all have our reasons to be here,” Mike agrees. “So we prolly should find a way to make this work. We need six of us to enter the games. If we don’t work together, ain’t none of us going nowhere. So, buckle up, buttercup,” he directs to Andrei. “You good?”

“Wait, quick huddle, is that 6 rule true?” Andrei questions.

“Bro, you even wrote 6 down on your notes,” B.J. laughs. “Yes, on the scroll. Only teams of six are allowed to enter the games and there’s only 5 teams in at a time each year.”

Andrei laughs. “I wrote that down and then forgot what it was for. Got too wrapped up. Forgive me, forgive me. Alright, back in it now. My character gives a sigh,” which then echoes as Andrei releases a deep and long sigh. “If I must.”

Tee’s voice cuts back in, a bit of soft music in the background. “And so, our party of six is born. Forged with their own objectives in mind, their own goals to meet. Who must now work as one to take on the challenge, outwit their opponents and take home the treasure.”

The final pieces of the food are taken off the grill, you and Joe packaging up what’s cooked in fresh pans and he cuts the gas. You try to be swift as you hand your dad his plate. His grin is bright, a quick and quiet, “Thanks” leaving him.

“I’ll fix you a plate. Go find us a spot, yeah?” Joe whispers into your ear, a soft tap to your ass punctuates the command.

“Joe,” you hiss at him but he’s gone by the time you turn around, into the kitchen. There’s two open seats behind the sectional so you slip down into one, relieved to be off your feet for the first time in hours.

Overhead the story continues on, the party forging their way into the city of Waterdeep, suspicions begin to arise amongst the group about Andrei’s character. On the morning of their second day Cam notices a speck of blood left on Andrei’s shoes. But he chooses specifically to not let others know for now but plans to mention it if he notices anything else strange.

Joe returns two plates in his hands and a couple bottles secured into his pit. “In case you needed a refill,” he comments as you take the bottles from underneath his arm. “Did I miss anything good?”

“Nothing important. Just some fun graphics.”

The two rounds of qualifiers for the games are easily bested by the group, showing off their skills and abilities with ease, the ease of strength from the orc’s, the needled eyed precision of the ranger, the time and focused energy of the sorcerer, the paladin and fight showing off their swords skills, the connection and wonder of the druid, who in the throws of a crucial moment for the second qualifier, wild shapes into a bengal tiger.

And in the flurry of Ja’Marr’s victorious roll as the tiger, the whole house shakes, a thunderous roar from the crowd that nearly drowns out the added effects layer in a roar from the animal in the video. “So that’s why the scars were mentioned. I see you,” your mother calls out, pointing Ja’Marr out in appreciation.

“The scars weren’t my idea actually.” He offers your name instead, causing the room to shift to you. “But when they suggested it and when I heard it, I knew I needed to add it to my character,” Ja’Marr corrects. “I knew I wanted a little flair, add in a little something, something with the tiger for the team, but they came up with the scars for my character’s human form.”

“The sign of a good DM,” Trey tacks on from the corner, lifting his cup. Your nod is soft, but you appreciate the gratitude and recognition.

The party fights their way tooth and nail through games, team after team falls away. Interjections from the audience and the high nobles watch come in the form quick one liners from Zach, Samaje, Drew, Isaiah, Logan, OBJ, Cal, Jordan, Jake, Jalen, Cody, and Marco, the thrill of watching the best of the best go neck to neck, toe to toe. Some of them interject dressed in character and it makes the room laugh, the kind of pure enthusiasm about their parts is palpable as they deliver their lines, giggles and smiles lighting up their faces.

All of them took their roles seriously, rehearsing lines with you on the second shoot day for the smaller picture in picture moments, trying to get inflections down right, suggesting edits for the way they would say it. You laughed behind the camera and even during the filming more than you thought possible, watching every single one of them lock in on the rolls, double checking and triple checking their packets to make sure their teammates were getting every roll possible that they deserved. Calling out items and lore that might’ve forgotten.

The video continues on, the party now focused on the last team who remains in the way of them and the treasure. The team that holds Joe’s wizard--who’s locked in a battle of spells and wills with Mike’s sorcerer. “Having been here before,” Joe starts in the video. The fake beard and costume purple wizard hat do make the character as Joe continues to deliver his lines in a fake shaky tone, “there is something I must tell you.”

The statement pauses Mike. “I drop my hands and stop preparing the fire strike. Been here before?”

“I used to be you. A man hungry for power. I’m gray now,” Joe strokes the beard at the phrase, “and still just a man but with no power. Do you want to end up like me?” Joe recites.

The moment hangs. The room moves in a little closer, the camera zooms in as Mike thinks of his choices. “There’s more, after this,” Joe continues, “even after you defeat me, even after I’m just dust, there’s something much more sinister in the belly below.”

Your voice fades in, “And just after the old wizard speaks, part of the walls crumbles. The ground shakes. Mike, I need an athletics check. Old wizard, give me an athletics check, but you’re at a disadvantage because it’s crumbling behind you.”

“17,” Mike shouts after he rolls, pushing up from his chair, one hand covering his heart over his chest. “Oh, sweet, Lord, that’s a 17.”

Joe’s laughter erupts from the speakers, his accent dropped. “I rolled a natural one. How does that even happen? I can’t go out like this.”

“Alright, Mike, with a 17 you see the walls starting to come down and go to grab the old wizard’s hand, tug him out of the way, but the ground in between you two splits. You’re able to dodge out of the way but the old wizard doesn’t move. Just simply stands there, waiting, and waiting. You hear the echo of his last question, Mike, in your ears as you watch the walls crumble. Where you might hear a scream, there’s nothing. Just the deep guttural sound of the earth opening up. You know when the dust settles that he’s gone, under the rumble.”

Tee comes back in around the exhale of the group. “And with that, our party climbs their way to victory. The best of the best, the most ruthless, the most skilled, on top. A victorious day in Waterdeep. Until they fall too deep.”

Your voice comes in, the camera now panned in on Andrei, Cam, Mike, Ja’Marr, Chase, and B.J. “The high nobles come to greet you, congratulate you on the victory. They lead you through the back of the arena, down a set of stone stairs. There’s calligraphy and iconography all over the walls. It’s thick and dank the further you go down.”

“Do I recognize any of the symbols?” B.J. asks. He has some background in masonry but not a ton.

“Wisdom check. Let’s see if you do.”

“13,” he returns, voice hopeful that something jumps out at him.

“You can’t make out a lot of them. The light’s creating a lot of shadows. But you do see one scene in particular, where one person is on top of treasure and five other bodies at the bottom of the pile. And just as quickly as you make it out, it’s lost in the darkness as you’re escorted further down into the underbelly of the arena.”

“Wait, no, no, no!” Robin shouts from the couch. “This can’t be happening. Turn back around!” Her outburst interrupts B.J.’s attempts to alert Cam about the symbol he saw.

“Dawg, I don’t know about you, but this place is giving me the creeps,” B.J. states. “Did you see the pile of bodies at the bottom of the treasure in that picture?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cam returns. “What are you on about?”

“On the walls, the picture. Like I know we’re basically holding back on Count Dracula over there, but I saw we let him go ham and get out while we still can,” B.J. answers.

“It does feel freaky, but I mean, we should at least get our cut and then split, right?” Cam offers. “Like we ain’t do all this hard work for nothing.”

“What are y’all two yapping back there?” Ja’Marr cuts in.

“I’m going to interrupt here, for the plot,” you start in the video. “But if anyone has something they think they’d say before this, let’s put it out there, yeah?”

“We’re good, at least I am,” Andrei offers. “I’m so focused on this plot, I forget I’m a part of the plot.”

“Umm, I do think my character might, like, be listening to the exchange,” Chase offers. “I do think when Cam suggests that we at least try to get our money and split, he would agree. Like we literally didn’t almost die in acidic goo for no reason, you feel me?”

“Okay, so your character agrees to try and wait it for the last second before splitting. Anyone else?” you ask.

The rest of the party shakes their head no to any new additions. “Okay, the marching order was Ja’Marr, Mike, Cam, B.J. Andrei, and then Chase. So Chase, you hear the whispers right about we should at least try to get our cut and then banana peel and split. Just as you agree to this plan, there’s one of the hooded figures that’s been escorting you that leans in a little close to you.”

A nearly blacked out camera shot that starts out shaky pops up on screen to reveal a man, hidden by the hood of the cloak—a blood red color. As he eases the cloak down from his face, the room cheers to the revels of Sam Hubbard’s face. “If you want to get out, wait for my signal,” Sam offers softly before he puts the hood back up. The shot peels away before a cross fade takes the screen back over and reveals the party at the table again.

“The figure backs away,” your voice from the speakers cuts in now, a flawless cut between Sam’s delivery of the line and your narration. “And from the front the room echoes with the click of someone’s steps approaching. It’s not totally dark so those with darkvision you can see clearer and those without are catching the shadows mostly. But the clicks grow closer and closer and closer, and closer until like a switch--with snap of some fingers, the torches on the walls are lit. In front of you, you hear,”

The video of you drops and there’s a slow roll of the crisps Jay’s, up and up the camera pans, goes over the burgundy cape, and the rings dawned on fingers, the silver bracelets dripping down the two wrists until Tee’s face is revealed with a playful, but still slightly sinister smile. “Welcome weary travelers,” he starts into the camera “You start your story here in the belly of Waterdeep. Congratulations on a spectacular win up above. But now, the real challenge begins down below.”

Your voice begins to narrate again. “The man disappears, the lights go out before the flick back on a few seconds later. The game master, that you recognize now from the posters all over Waterdeep, stands now up on a platform thirty five feet up off the ground. It’s all glass on the sides and in it you can see the treasure. The room opens up around you, more and more torches lighting up. The room looks nearly endless. The five figures that were surrounding you all drop their hoods.”

In rapid succession, Tanner, Trey, Gesicki, Evan, and Sam are revealed to the entire party. Each of them pulls back their hoods in their 1 on 1 shot, the sound effect of a spotlight turn on clicks each drop. Dun, dun, dun, dun, dun.

“Six people enter the belly, but only one will make it out alive,” Tee commands. “Let the games begin.”

The video fades to black, a to be continued screen flashing before the video rolls to the end. The recommended videos of Joe’s YouTube account fill the video player. The first part and the entirety of its 45 minutes concluded and it’s met with just silence at first. A long two to three beats of pure silence and shock.

The room shouts. Your mom and dad push to their feet. “That was incredible! But that cliff hanger is nasty work,” your dad laughs. Joe’s parents and his brothers laugh in their shock. The rest of the boys cheer. You and Joe’s house has never been more alive until right now, until right this moment.

“We’re going to take an intermission,” Joe announces, after wrangling the room down to a reasonable decibel. He looks down at the corner of the screen that his laptop is projected onto. “Part 2 starts playing at 1:30 whether you’re in your spot or not.”

“Let me go pee! Because I am not getting left behind. No, not me,” your mother cackles, but not with a kiss to your cheek as she goes.

“Tee getting his Batman moment now,” Ja’Marr laughs, shoving at Tee’s shoulder. “Getting good, you sinister fuck!”

“When I tell y’all, the reveal killed in the room, I mean it,” B.J. pipes in.

“Does anyone have a video of that?” Chase asks. “Want to post it because I swear we all almost took ourselves to an early grave.”

“I’ll send it,” Joe offers. “I think I do.”

“Sweet, thanks.”

The party is swift during their intermission. A line forms outside of the two bathrooms downstairs. Trash is tossed into the waiting bags. Cups are refilled, more chips and snacks are grabbed. Some conversation floats between your parents and Joe’s family about the story. The guys huddle together in pockets, conversation flowing about the training and practices, life updates.

You double check on the drinks and start shuffling the empty containers out of the way in the kitchen, to help keep clean up from being a tedious and monstrous task at the end. The voices still float around you, taking in pieces of the conversation from the living room.

“Joe, where’d you get that shelf? With the jungle print in the back?” Andrei asks.

“Oh, that’s a DIY, not bought that way,” Joe answers. His voice is louder than you anticipate. You look up to spy Joe bringing in the empty trays the burgers and hot dogs were in. They rest empty now in his hands. “Right, baby? That’s peel and stick wallpaper?”

“Yes, peel and stick wallpaper. I bought it off Etsy.” Your sentence is swallowed just a little by the whip of the trash bag for the trash in Joe’s hands.

“So you painted it too then?” Andrei questions.

“Yes, but I made so many mistakes. Learned plenty of lessons.”

“Looks sick.” Andrei refills his cup and then slides back into the living room.

“See, I told you it was a good spot out there,” Joe boasts. He had suggested putting it out in the hallway, in foyer to hold the dish for his keys and the more avant garde decor. You were positive it would clash, considering how light everything else was at the time. But the balance of the color against the otherwise light interior does work as a conversation piece.

“You just want me to say you were right again, don’t you?”

“Any sane man would.” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The two of you work together to get the last of the trash tossed and the empty bottles that can be recycled and are empty into the receptive bins.

By the time you two finish, you arrive back to the living room with two minutes to spare on Joe’s imposed start time. “Two minute warning,” Joe calls out. The rush back to their seats is immediate. “I’m going to grab you some oreos. I assume by now the desire for something sweet has kicked in. Keep our spot warm, yeah?”

It’s less of a question given that Joe turns back to the cabinets and reaches into the back corner of the second highest shelf but you settle into the folding chairs. Joe resurfaces, slipping one cookie into his mouth, before he presses click on the second video. He fulls screens it and then hits play. He’d gone ahead and got the premium subscription just for this to avoid ads.

“Let me get one,” Tee calls out, hands ready to catch the snack.

“That was the boyfriend tax,” Joe answers, hands now transferring the paper towel over to you. “Up to them on that.”

“Think fast,” you answer, and toss one cookie up underhand, a little worried the throw is too short.

He catches it with ease. “‘Preciate it, cuz.”

The second part of the campaign starts up with a recap, fast cuts, all that lead to the reveal of Tee again. The next scene the party is in uproar. In the video, Tee settles into the seat next to you, where all the guests for their lines have settled behind the DM privacy screen. Chase and Cam have taken to doing laps around the table on screen. There’s a thunderous clapping in the room now too that only adds to the celebration.

The video shock ends rather abruptly, a shockwave at the plot twist brought to a firm end. In reality, it took you a lot longer to get them settled again to focus again. You’ll be able to cherish that moment, the laughter, the teases pointing you out. Your voice floats in. “You watch, as a maze drops down from overhead. One pillar at a time, it unfolds. The thuds echo. The ground shakes. All six of you watch. Chase you remember the whispered warning, ‘Wait for my signal’.” Now on screen you watch as Sam, face not hidden anymore by his hood, nods. Spliced in on the bottom half of the screen is Chase’s returned nod.

“Sh--, holy f--, okay,” Chase starts, scooting his chair closer to the table. “Okay, lock in boys. Quick huddle, is there enough time to warn at least B.J., or Andrei, whoever’s closer.”

“I think you can get one warning off, so who is it?”

“Andrei. I, like, tap him on the arm and just tell him, “Get f---- ready.”

“Okay, you give the quick and hurried warning. Because you’re ready for this, Chase, I need you to hold one action. Which would be?”

“I’m going to hold my Rage, fixing to throw hands in this b---.”

“That’s a bonus action, so we can Rage when you go, but what are you doing to roll that Rage?”

“Oh, my great mace,” Chase corrects. “Felt like I was about to get into a street fight and blacked out for a second.”

“Got it, no worries. Everyone, roll for initiative.”

The added sound effects trickle in, the plink of the dice that you know wasn’t captured during the one-shot, the digitized order that hovers over in the left hand corner but thankfully doesn’t distract from the overall narrative. The order falls into place and the battle ensues. Sam reacts first, swiping at the ankles of Tanner, a fellow henchman. Chase releases his held action on Trey. Both Trey and Tanner get one round each to respond before the entire party and group fall into the ordered combat.

Fireballs are blasted. Ja’Marr wild shapes. Swords are unsheathed. Arrows are littered into rock and bodies. The battle is bloody. But with Sam’s addition to the squad, it helps turn the tides. With all henchmen zeroed out on their health, and the party boosted health wise just a little due to a collection of healing potions they found in the upper arena right before getting brought down to the treasure, everyone turns now Tee.

Tee slow claps on screen, grinning all the same. “Very well, very well. It hurts to see one of my own turned against me. But not a shock. Tired yet?”

“We should’ve split earlier, but we’re here now,” Andrei chimes in.

“Tried to warn y’all,” B.J. scoffs, “but ain’t no quitting now.”

“I just want to say,” Cam starts, “even if we don’t all make it out, it’s been an honor to fight alongside y’all. Didn’t think we’d make it this far. But we did.”

It’s a sentimental moment, causing the room to coo in unison at the sincere appreciation Cam expresses.

“We all fight until none of us can fight,” Mike agrees.

“We ready?” you question in the video.

“Born ready,” Chase returns.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Sam nods.

The fight against Tee is brutal. You wince now, watching it back, at every blow that hits the party and pray with every roll they take that they do substantial damage. There’s two major critical hits from the party. One from Cam who delivers a damming chunk of damage to Tee and two turns later is followed up by another critical hit from Ja’Marr. Chase manages to keep the tide going with a staggering 6 points of damage on his follow up. But Tee fires back, brings B.J. down total to the point of death saving throws as Cam and Mike used their healing slots to help keep Ja’Marr on his feet earlier in the henchman battle.

“No, I cannot die,” B.J. bellows. “Not like this, man. I was going to do something so cool.”

Sam does what he can to defend B.J.’s unconscious body but every dice throw now means twice as much. In the end, B.J.’s not quite lucky enough to bring himself out of the throws of unconsciousness. He hangs his head, a shot on him for a moment before he looks up. “Is there anything I can do from the dead now? I’m not leaving them hanging.”

In his backstory, he mentions a family’s long lost relative, which you know is the great grandmother to Chase’s character. It’s lore that the both of you discussed in depth, over a few texts and calls too prior to filming.

“Is there anything you’d like to do?” you counter.

“I’m just going to whisper a name,” B.J. grins, catching onto your steps now.

“What name is it?”

“Addizya.”

And like a record scratch, there’s a pause. There’s a close up on Chase, as he perks up in his seat, recognizing the name of his great grandmother’s name. The lore unveils itself the connection between the two characters and the realization that a family member, not just a haphazardly collection of misfits banding together, is dead rocks Chase’s character. Turns him into a fitful and tear jerking rage.

Andrei--previously weakened due to major blows in the arena above, and after sneaking a few sips from the spread out bodies from the fight--takes his turn and manages to bring Tee down, not fully, but within the critical zone. Enough that when Chase goes again, the emotion from B.J.’s death and the inspiration of his great grandmother brings Tee’s gamemaster down to the bitter and snarky core, a pile of bones left pummeled into the stone below--his jewels and ice among the dusty rubble.

The loot is collected, split amongst the initial six. B.J.’s share has a small portion gifted to Sam for his efforts and the remainder is sealed up, and placed into the hold of B.J.’s halfing’s character, who Chase carries out from the arena, a whispered promise to bring his body back home along with his portion of the winnings.

“So what made you turn?” Mike questions during the journey out of the city.

“Was looking to retire and my contract originally said upon death, but not who’s,” Sam laughs, the joke inspired by his own personal retirement.

“And there, among the rubble of Waterdeep, in the depths below, there is an eerie silence. Our party’s deep now, in the thicket of the jungle on their ways back home.” This section is narrated by you. You can feel the tension in the room, see the shifting gazes from the boys. Their story ended with the somber walk home, the return of B.J.’s body back to his village, the somber of Chase’s lasting cry, which all happened just a few seconds ago on the screen. Which is the end for them. But you know that there’s more. Your voice continues on around the house, “But in the rubble where the red cloaks, the burgundy cloth, the rings and jewels lay empty, there’s a click, clack, click, clack.”

The scene cuts away from you by yourself at the table and focuses instead on a figure coming out of the shadows, the camera panning up, and up, and up, until Coach Taylor is revealed. He picks up a ring and slips it on his pinkie. “They say if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself,” he comments, disappointed, and his gaze spiking the camera.

The screen goes black, a hearty bell ringing out before the credits roll.

Everyone in the room, the players included, remain still. As if no one can believe that they’ve just witnessed.

“Tee wasn’t the man behind it all?” Ja’Marr screeches, breaking the silence. “My mans was out here killing it as the gamemaster! What is that?”

You shrug. “A trilogy.”

“No fucking way! No shot!” Trey howls. The entire room erupts, roars with a collective shout of shock.

Joe, who sits next to you, holds onto your upper biceps, holding you out like he needs to take in your entire face, like he can’t believe what he’s witness. His face is a mixture of shock and pride, blue eyes sparkling as they dance over your face. “That’s fucking real? They’re bringing you back for more?”

“I pitched the idea of three parts halfway through drafting this part. This one, the sequel, and then a prequel. They agreed to let me leave this one that cliffhanger, see how it goes, and then plan for the end of this upcoming season to draft and film the sequel and the prequel. Now that we sort of know what we’re doing.”

“That’s what was taking you so much time. You were out here writing a damn novel!” Joe’s hug is swift, pressing you hard into his chest as he laughs. You inhale the scent of the detergent and his cologne as you’re pressed into his neck. The rumble of his voice vibrates against your lips as you’re tucked into him. “I’m so fucking proud of you. Holy shit, baby. That’s incredible.”

“A cheers,” Tee starts, standing, “to a great DM, who wrote one of the craziest things I’ve been a part of in a long time. To someone I like to think is a friend, and who’s an all around solid human.”

More cups are lifted in your direction and the wave hits. You did that. They did that too, created a space for all of them you included to have fun. You take your cup and raise it back to the room. “To all of you,” you call out, “for being amazing players, characters, creatives, and humans. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible.”

*******************

Joe settles into the bed, remembering just before he reclines back to move the teddy bear towards the center. Though his hair is a little damp still, he’s grateful for the way the bed holds him. While he’s thrilled to have been able to have his family over, to hang out with your family and the guys, he’s exhausted. His social battery tanked somewhere in the intermission and he severely underestimated how much social battery he would need with thirty odd people in the house.

But now the house is quiet. The trash is taken out. The remaining snacks are packed away. The chairs are tucked back up into the garage for Joe to take to the storage unit tomorrow in your SUV. Now there’s nothing to do but settle into the quiet, listening to the rummage of you as you get ready for bed, having showered before Joe, but still somehow getting delayed.

“After you’re done resting your eyes, can you check the draft I have on Insta and let me know what you think?”

Joe keeps his eyes closed as your presence presses in close, a kiss pressed to the top of his nose. “Are you asking for approval because you think I am a social media god?”

You laugh softly at the jest, knowing Joe barely posts as it is. “There’s some pictures and videos I want to run by you first.”

You and Joe have not made waves on social media at all. He knows he’s followed you from back in college, but he’s careful more now than ever about if he starts interacting with you too much, how that might look, what that could do to you. It’s not even something you’ve ever brought up either. About wanting or needing it to be out in the public.

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?” Joe questions, eyes finally drifting open. He finds you as you shut the dresser drawer closed. One of his old LSU t-shirts hangs from your frame.

“I don’t want to put out a statement,” you answer, slipping onto the mattress next to him, but still with inches between. “But I don’t know, the campaign feels like a pretty big moment and I want to document it, accurately, mind you.”

Joe snorts as the bobble of your head, the attitude that drips from the accurately, but is still soft and unsure all the same. He reaches for your hand and you give it with no hesitation. “If you do post, it will open up the gates. People will start to ask for more.”

“Sounds like you’re not comfortable with it?”

Joe’s not a fan. He can’t pretend that he is. It feels much too intrusive, like it forgets that he’s just a guy at the end of the day. But he doesn’t want to keep you from expressing yourself, from documenting the journey you’ve had thus far. He is just worried that it’s going to open yourself up to a can of worms that can’t be contained once opened. Joe likes having you tucked away, safe away from prying eyes. But he promised he wouldn’t get in the way. “Can I see what you have drafted so far?”

“Certainly.”

Joe takes your phone when you hand it over. He starts first with the carousel of photos and videos. The first one is a blurry picture from the video you took a few weeks prior. Joe’s face is missing from the crop, but he knows it’s him, your head gently pressed between his forearm and bicep during his rather weak attempts at getting some attention from you and to ensure that Ja’Marr and Tee would have substantial roles. He swipes on to find a video. Taken from inside your old apartment. Joe is hard to make out in the video, the sun coming in through slants and the light washing him out just a little.

“Baby, I’m not saying that. That doesn’t even sound like me,” he says inside of the video.

“It’s not you, hon. It’s a character. Those are the lines. If you don’t like them, I’ll just have to give the part of the old wizard to someone else.”

“No, you can’t do that. I’m the old wizard, because I suggested him.”

“Then, Joe, those are the lines.”

“As much as I love the sound of my name from your lips, I am ‘hon’ now and forever.”

“Then agree, those are your lines. Final.”

“Fine, I’ll say the damn lines. Just call me hon again. Please.” There’s silence and Joe remembers how you watched him, like it might’ve been a challenge. Like you might’ve been waiting for him to pull the rug out from under you. “You want me to beg? I’ll beg.”

The camera shakes, the wind whipping at how quickly you move across the gap. You sat on the kitchen island. He sat on the purple couch. His face fills the camera, but only for a second and then it’s just of his t-shirt, but your voice is clear. “Are you going to make my day, or not?”

The video ends there. Joe looks over to you, almost asks you to remove that video, because it feels like way too much. But it’s only because he has the context, knows how he pulled you into his lap, how his stomach churned with desire. How it does now when he catches how warm your gaze is on his skin. “I can take it out,” you suggest.

That sight, Joe knows. Even if he doesn’t have words, you see. “I’m not done yet. We’ll put a pin in that one.”

“Okay.”

He swipes again as the video starts to loop through a third time. A shot of your notebooks, papers, manuals stares back at him. From the corner he can see his legs, only his knees visible mostly, the scars on his left knee are shadowed, hard to pick out unless you know what you’re looking for. And Joe does, but he focuses less on that and more on the notes, the filter you’ve used over it so it’s a softer tan haze over it, makes it look cozy.

“That’s cute,” he comments, turning so you can see the picture he’s referencing.

“Neither one of our faces in that photo, hon,” you snort.

“I mean, like, it’s such a cozy looking picture with all your notes. Reminds me of college and our group project. I’m being nostalgic here. Work with me.”

“I can see that,” you agree, a tuft of laughter pressing out through your chest.

Joe swipe again to a text thread between you and Ja’Marr. The contact name at the top reads ‘Uno’. The text thread starts with one from Ja’Marr, so joe gets all the details, but i can’t get jack shit.’

Your response follows below in blue, You’re literally a player in the party? You’re going to find out what’s going to happen as it’s happening to your character next week?

Uno: yeah but i want to know. i want to play so bad, joe says it’s good and i’m impatient.

That’s a problem with God and you, I fear. I’d start praying.

Uno: you’re faster though. tell joe to stop being such a fucking tease pls. :(

Send screenshots and I’ll handle the rest.

“He ratted me out and I’ll never forgive him,” Joe laughs, reaching the end of the thread. “But I wasn’t wrong about it being a killer story.”

“No, you weren’t.”

Another thread of texts pops up when Joe moves on. But this time, he recognizes himself as the recipient, his text being the one that starts it all, ‘Whatever Ja’marr told you is a lie.’

So, you didn’t send him these? The screenshots follow up your reply.

Joe remembers sitting next to Ja’Marr, fingers swiftly working over the keys at the fact that he’d been caught, Do you want a back rub tonight? You said your back was hurting last night. Probably from the absolute killer campaign you’re building to carry all of us in.

Just as suspected.

These photos don’t carry on the full context either, how Joe begged for forgiveness, told you how proud he was of your work. To which you confirmed a shoulder massage was much appreciated and that Joe’s favorite cheat meal would still be something you’d do for him. Joe can taste the mac'n'cheese now, the grease of the fried chicken too. But he’s much too full off the grilled hamburgers to suggest even the inkling of something more.

The next piece in the collection is a picture of you that Joe snuck during the prep day. You stand at the podium, the background holding your powerpoint that reads, Welcome Weary Travelers: Lessons in the Basics of Dungeons and Dragons. Behind that follows a video of the lunch break they took on one of the filming days, the voices loud and almost monotonous enough to tune out, but Joe catches Tanner’s comment, “This shit is literally insane. So fucking cool.” There are other comments too, snippets of conversation near you that talk about other pieces of the story, how much fun they’re having.

There’s a video of the first plot twist, when Tee gets revealed that’s from Joe’s recording as the guys run around the room, laughter circling around. “No fucking shot. No fucking way. How did we not see this coming, dawg? How did we not see this coming?” Ja’Marr shouts into the camera.

And the carousel concludes with the two dozen red roses Joe got you after filming was completed. The card’s not picture, but he knows what he wrote on the inside: Congratulations, baby! You did it and I couldn’t be more proud of you. Thank you for all your patience with us as you put together an amazing story. We’ll cherish these memories of such an incredible and fun one-shot for decades to come.”

And Joe doesn’t want to get in the way. He promised that. “Do you think you could edit the second video to take out the ending? Just keep the part of you running but the last part feels a little too much. Would that be okay?”

“Of course that’s okay. That’s the easy part.”

The hard part is following through but you take your phone back. There’s a few minutes of silence until you hand it back and play the clip. It goes through until the end if just the shuffle of you from the counter. The cut makes the clip funnier now. The comedic timing captures the huff you exhale before it loops again. And though it’s still suggestive, there’s an edge of levity to the video now that eases the worry in Joe’s chest.

“Perfect,” Joe laughs.

“So less horny, more memes, I’m gathering, should I ever be interested in a photo dump like this again.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “That’s the right balance.” He tugs at your knee and you slip down into the pillows. Joe crawls up, kissing over your stomach, and chest. “Horny is for me and me only.”

“Consider that noted.”

Your fingers are soft, tangled in his hair as you tug Joe up for a kiss--slow and deep. He savors the way you taste, how he fits so well into your arms. But he has nothing left, not tonight. Just wants the warmth of you pressed into his body. Joe drops his head, ending the kiss gently with pecks along your jaw. “If I fall asleep, wake me up when you get done with the caption, please.”

“Can do.”

There’s just silence and your breathing that Joe focuses on, listening to the slow and steady rhythm of your inhales and exhales. It soothes Joe to the brink of sleep, as he listens and sinks, sinks and listens, and listens and sinks.

When you do rouse him, not quite from sleep, but almost at it, he groans. “I did ask for that. Okay, let me see,” he huffs, pushing up off your chest. He reads through the text and then hovers over the caption for six. “I’m suggesting an edit to 6. But let me finish the rest.”

He works over the keyboard and then hands the phone back after he finishes reading the remainder of the list. “Number 1 is fucking hilarious and if not for the fact that we are literally dating, I would be concerned.”

“Good, that was the point.”

“Tag me in it though. On like one of the least conspicuous ones though.”

“Of course, hon. I’ll tag you in the video from the lunch break.”

Joe’s phone chimes from the nightstand a couple minutes later. Rather than looking at notification from you, he settles back down to your chest, already aware of what’s out there: the carousel and the collaborated caption.

what i had to go through in order to plan the adventure vs what the boys got to experience on their adventure. in order as presented:

1) some might say that this is a photo of love, but if i were to ever release the full video, it is definitely a torture tactic. i have been advised by my lawyers and a certain old wizard from the campaign not to release the footage in exchange for my freedom.

2) a certain old wizard trying to make his case about changing a line, but forgetting i’m the boss. put a number 8 on my chest because i stay one step ahead.

3) work date nights

4+5) twin, i won’t let him hurt you. the BBEG can’t hurt you anymore.

6) POV: you’re a certain old wizard in the campaign and are still subjected to the lectures but the professor is hot so you’re more than okay showing up. signed, a certain old wizard

7) the lunch intermission debrief

8) POV: you’re the camera when the plot twist happens.

9) the flowers i sobbed into upon receiving for a solid twenty minutes. (not pictured: the sobbing).

Thank you, to the Bengals franchise for taking this chance, thank you to the players for their enthusiasm, wonder, and amazing dedication. Thank you, to my rock, for being there from day 1, who encouraged and nurtured this brain child and me. I will forever be grateful.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow series #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black reader #h writes

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companion-of-the-dragonmark · 5 months ago

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Is Heather Based on a Book Character? (HTTYD)

Hello, my fellow Dragonmarkers! Today, we'll be talking about another character from the movie/TV franchise and the Books:

Could Heather be loosely based on a character from the books?

(Warning: Spoiler Alert to those who haven't read the books at all, but consider this an opportunity to see if the books are worth reading, eh? ;-) )

Now, I might be 100% wrong on my theory, but I'm still going to present it, and leave to you, my audience, to determine whether or not this is plausible.

Unlike other characters in the movie/t.v. show whom many fans think are similar to certain book characters (cough, cough, Astrid, cough), Heather might possibly have more in common with her other half, Barbara the Barbarian: a minor character that we see only in the last book of the series, How to Fight a Dragon's Fury.

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My Theory | How Heather and Barbara Are Similar:

What makes me think that Heather and Barbara are connected, if somewhat loosely?

Well, let me give you a few reasons:

1) She's a daughter of a Chieftain.

Both girls are daughters (or Princesses, as they're called in the books) of Chieftains — albeit Heather's the daughter of the late Chieftain of the Berserker Tribe, while Barbara is the daughter of the Chieftain of the Barbarian Tribe. They both have a level head on their shoulders and their equipment and even their dragons look somewhat similar, if loosely so.

They are also good leaders who lead their warriors well, and both of their fathers dote on them.

Both are superb fighters, being daughters of Chieftains. They are also intelligent, fierce, brave, kind, compassionate, and love their dragons dearly.

2) Both seem to be brunettes (though Barbara's hair and eye color is never mentioned).

3) Barbara, like Heather, seems to not have a mother, though it's unclear whether the mother died or if she was just not mentioned. The HTTYD books only have a few mothers who are mentioned and shown: Bertha (Camicazi's mother), Valhallarama (Hiccup's mother), Termagant (Fishlegs' mother), Excellinor the Witch (Alvin the Treacherous's mother), and Chin-hilda (Hiccup the Second's mother). Oddly, women are sorely lacking in the books. Maybe it's just because of the Viking culture in her books. In Viking culture, women weren't often mentioned except in folklore and sagas.

4) Both are staunch supporters and allies of their respective Hiccup the Thirds. Heather is a trustworthy ally who's often shown alongside Hiccup and the Dragon Riders in Race to the Edge along with Dagur.

She's always seen with the others around the Hearth giving suggestions and advice. Before she reconciled with Dagur, and when she lived with the Dragon Riders, she often flew with Hiccup and/or Astrid, and was usually the one to go with Hiccup and Astrid when he left to talk to someone — whether a villain or one of their allies.

She and Barbara have the utmost respect for their respective Hiccups and would gladly die for them if need be.

Barbara only nominated Alvin the Treacherous to be King of the Wilderwest, despite knowing the kind of person he was and having fought against him, and being Hiccup's follower, out of practical sense and battle fatigue, for the Vikings of the Wilderwest were close to extinction under the claws of the Dragons' Red-Rage Rebellion led by Furious, and she and everyone else had been fighting the dragons for two years at this point and were war-weary (even Vikings need a break from war once and a while). Only when evidence began to pop up that Hiccup is the Rightful Heir did she have hope again.

She was also one of the Vikings who knelt before Hiccup to swear their swords for his service as their King. And when Hiccup was going to duel Furious, Barbara offered to lend him her cat to take into battle — whether as a weapon, a lucky charm, or both.

And when Hiccup was in danger — and when Alvin incited the battle once again by breaking the Rules of Single Combat by entering the Ring when Hiccup and Furious were engaged so that he could steal the Dragon Jewel and kill Hiccup the Third for good — she flew on her dragon along with her comrades to enter the fray and showed great courage and bravery.

5) Both Heather and Barbara own battle horns.

Heather was given her horn as a gift from Hiccup's father Stoick when she was born. Perhaps Barbara did likewise, or her own father had given her it when she was older. As I've said, she's a minor character so not much is known about her at all; she's only shown in one book — the last one, and only in the middle of the last one.

Heather uses her own to call Windshear to her if they ever get separated. It's also possible that she uses it to call to any allies that are close to her. Barbara seems to use her horn similarly.

In fact, in How to Fight a Dragon's Fury, it says in Page 241 that: "...She brought out her foghorn and blew on it several times, making such a loud noise that the cat's fur stood up like the quills on a sea urchin and she immediately bounced back onto Barbara's shoulder."

So she seems to use it for her pet cat (I believe it was mentioned that the Barbarian Tribe used cats into battle. No clue why, but they do).

Another reference in Page 450 — well after this point, close to the end of the story — when the Second Dragon-Human War was ended and the Vikings were celebrating the new peace and the return of the Kingdom of the Wilderwest. Unfortunately, being Vikings, their celebrating eventually moved into fighting and arguing, and Hiccup eventually asks Barbara for her horn in order to break it up.

Hiccup says: " 'In the meantime, I know what will stop them from arguing... Barbara," said Hiccup now, 'could I borrow your foghorn?' King Hiccup stood up on his Stone, and blew the foghorn as hard as he could. The thrilling sound of the foghorn, when blown at full blast, was so magnetically loud that it hit the ears like an electric shock..."

We actually see this when Heather blows her horn to call Windshear to her in Edge of Disaster Part 2 in Season 2 of RTTE. The sound is high-pitched and loud.

Yet another — and final — reference is in Page 455-456, where, as the Vikings are singing songs during the Feast, Hiccup asks Barbara if she'd like her horn back, to which she replied that "he'd better keep it, as she thought that he was going to need it." (Vikings being Vikings, after all). Heather doesn't do this, but I was basically showing where the horn came from.

Now, it could be that this is just a coincidence, and that this doesn't make Heather loosely based on Barbara the Barbarian. It could be that the horn is just a little reference from the books like the eyepiece (telescope) you see Hiccup and other characters use throughout the Dragons series.

6) Both girls are love interests of their respective Fishlegs characters.

That's right. I'm getting to the JUICY stuff now! lol 😎🍿

Now Fishlegs in the movie franchise is vastly (pun not intended) different from Fishlegs in the books. Fishlegs in the books is small and skinny like Hiccup and has asthma, eczema, a squint, a limp, and numerous allergies, including one to reptiles. He wears glasses. And has red hair. And his dragon is a Deadly Shadow, a dragon not unsimilar to the Snaptrapper dragon — much cooler than a Gronkle, as the Deadly Shadow is a faster flyer, deadlier, and is a Stealth Dragon.

Fishlegs in the movies is... beefier than Fishlegs in the books. He also doesn't really have any allergies aside from Gobber's earwax (which they only did for comedy effect and the episode actually referenced Fishlegs' allergy to reptiles in the books, though Fishlegs seems to have gotten over that allergy as the books wore on). He doesn't have glasses, having perfect vision. He doesn't limp, he's strong, and doesn't squint. And he doesn't have asthma. And it seems like he can swim just fine, whereas in the books Fishlegs was a terrible swimmer and was only able to swim when he saw that Hiccup was in danger. He also has blond hair, not red. And he's a nerd when it comes to dragons, whereas Fishlegs in the books is an up-and-coming poet and bard with only the general knowledge of dragons.

Basically, he's a WIMP.

Fishlegs in the books is also an orphan, unlike in the movie, and also, unlike Movie Fishlegs, Fishlegs in the books also turns out to be royalty, being the son of Termagant, daughter of a Murderous Chieftain, and Alvin the Treacherous, making him the third cousin (according to the HTTYD wiki) of Hiccup and Snotlout. In the movie, Alvin is of no relation to Stoick, Hiccup, Snotlout, and Fishlegs at all, and Fishlegs is of no relation, in turn, to Hiccup. In the books, Fishlegs is also part Berserker on his mother's side, whereas Fishlegs has no such lineage.

One last thing: Fishlegs in the books was love-struck whenever Barbara was around, and couldn't form a coherent sentence together nor could think straight, often fainting. Fishlegs in the films and series never show any of that when with Heather. However, Fishlegs's secret letters to Heather could actually be a reference from the books where Fishlegs writes a secret love letter to Barbara the Barbarian against Hiccup's wishes.

In other words, he's a SIMP. 😂

(Heathlegs by NightOwl374 on Tumblr — though the account isn't around anymore and you can only find these on Pinterest)

Now, there are those who hope that someday Fishlegs and Barbara get together (personally, I don't) like how Fishlegs and Heather do in RTTE.

Another thing that the girls have in common is that both are older than their male counterparts — she is about a year or so (give or take a few months) older than Fishlegs, while Barbara is said, according to Camicazi, to be at least three years older than Fishlegs.

Two noticeable differences are, however, that 1) Fishlegs and Heather were a couple at one point, whereas with Fishlegs and Barbara, it was a one-sided attraction on Fishlegs' part and probably wouldn't be a thing regardless; and 2) both Barbara and Fishlegs were royalty, whereas only Heather is royalty and Fishlegs is just your average Joe (or IS HE? 😏).

But Fishlegs and Heather's relationship could've been a very loose reference to the possibility — and hope — of Fishlegs' infatuation with Barbara the Barbarian in the end of How to Fight a Dragon's Fury (come on, Cressida! Make us a sequel series!), and wanting Fishlegs to at least GET THE GIRL for once! lol 😂

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Conclusion:

Anyway, this is all that I have for you concerning this. What do you guys think? Do you think that Heather could be loosely inspired by Barbara from the books? Or do you think that I'm making mountains out of ant-hills and that these are just a bunch of coincidences! Tell me what you guys think! 😏

Thank you everyone for reading this article! I hope you guys enjoyed reading it! Until next time, my fellow Dragonmarkers! Have a great weekend!

Long Live the Wilderwest!

— Companion of the Dragonmark

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itzgruvia · 1 year ago

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A Juvia fact.

is that some of us ( cough cough antis) might think that Juvia doesn't care about her friends as much as she cares about Gray, which can be true sometimes because she loves him so much that sometimes she doesn't care but actually, Juvia does care about her friends , usually her unconditional love towards Gray is usually portrayed as comedy and nothing much.

the only serious romantic moments they had with each other is when Gray showed a serious concern or reaction towards her, for example when he saved her from the small dragons that shoot beaming lights and was about to speak to her about their situation but he died for a second and then forgot about it (stupid dragons).

However,Juvia Lockser does show care for her friends, she is an empath, she cries easily when it comes to a sad story (like when Mavis was telling them her story with Zeref), she is shown as a person who would give her life for her friends like that one time with Cana when she transformed herself into water and got an electeric shock just because she'd rather hurt herself than her friend, and keep in mind that they knew each other for a few weeks or less.

one of the main points that shows that Juvia isn't selfish, and who would kill innocent girls/Love rivals ,for Gray like some people assume, is with her fight in Tenrou Island with Meredy, the girl straight up said that she will kill Gray, and Juvia wasn't having it, so she became madly strong ( and that's also because feelings improve her powers) and fought her withought sweating.

if the claims about Juvia being a bloodthirsty fan girl or what some label it as Yandere in Japanese or Saesang in Korean, then she would have killed her right then, but no, Juvia limping from a broken leg, stood up and looked straight at her eyes and told her "if you have love, then you got to live", she gave Meredy a reason to keep on going, and it was love. some call it cheesy, or cringe or corny, only because those people don't know what love is, or are emotionally contisipated.

Love is important to Juvia, which makes her a unique character, she didn't end Meredy's life, she saved her life instead, she was mad but Juvia saw herself in that little girl, and she didn't want to squash her values just because she threatened to kill the love of her life, she thought maybe this little girl is scared, maybe she finds her life worthless, like she did before.

we can say that Gray was an inspiration, when he saved her life back then, and the sun hit her eyes, she realized that life is not meaningless if you have love to give, if you have someone waiting for you.

So Juvia isn't a Yandere, she might give that misunderstanding characteristics just because she is defensive against Lucy, but that's also for comedy and nothing much, it is shown that Juvia appreciates Lucy as her friend ( and we need more moments with these two fr).

Juvia Lockser is a very strong character, she has so much potential (and i still cling to the possibility of Mashima opening his eyes and realising that so he can reveal that potential)

Mina-

#fairy tail #gray fullbuster #gruvia #juvia lockser #gray x juvia #fairy tail 100 years quest #juvia loxar #fairy tail juvia #fairy tail gray #I love juvia so much #She is misunderstood :'(

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scrollwyrm · 7 months ago

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Chapter 1. Prisoner

Moon was a dragon who moved past her mistakes. She had felt regret and lived in her past for so long. How could she fall into a trancelike state and accidentally warn her father about the oncoming RainWing invasion? Because she was a seer. How could she learn every other dragon’s secrets? Because she was a mind reader. Was she doing it on purpose? No. None of that was her fault. So she was moving on from that. The RainWings had scattered after BattleWinner’s attack, years ago. She had only been two when she’d had the prophecy, but MorrowSeer had understood what it meant. His queen had gathered troops and preemptively ordered an assault on the RainWing village.

There had been almost no casualties, and the RainWings had mostly escaped, disorganised, terrified, and isolated. Moon felt awful for them. They were a village, a whole tribe, of fruit-eating pacifists. Of course, the NightWings needed the rainforest. They were dying slowly from breathing poison every second of every day under the constant threat of being buried in fire and rock. But that didn’t make it okay. Not any of it.

“Moon?” There he was. Her father. How had she not heard his thoughts behind her? Maybe she had, and she was just too lost in her own to notice. Not the dragon who lead the attack. But one of the many who had been forced to fight in it. How could she love a killer? More importantly, how could a killer act like such a good dragon, a good father, when Moon could almost smell the blood on his talons? And how could a killer be a dragon who had fought every step of the way to avoid becoming a killer in the end? “Are you still coming?” She nodded, walking faster down the dark wood floor of the corridor. Finally, as the wood corridor started to widen, she entered the room that was burned into her mind. She’d only been there three times before, but she saw it when she fell asleep and when she woke up.

The small table with the warm orange lantern. The deep rich brown wood of the walls. The sad mess of black chains and padlocks. Nervously, she stepped up to the cell, wrapping her talons around the cold bars. A dragon with anxious green eyes just like Moon’s, and a dark birthmark on her chest that reminded her of the padlock the door was held by. SecretKeeper. That must have been why she was named that, Moon thought sadly. She was always destined to keep a secret. An impossible secret. And she was always destined to be locked behind bars for it.

“Hello, mother. How have you been?” Moon tried to ignore the fear and helplessness that always bubbled up in her chest, like a padlock around her own heart, a broken patch of darkness just like her mother’s whenever she saw the old prisoner. MorrowSeer had always said that SecretKeeper was mad. To that, Moon would ask him why he’d married her.

She turned to her father, who was standing wearily behind her, eyeing SecretKeeper with sadness and worry. “Would you mind if I talked to her alone for a while?” He nodded wordlessly, stepping back into the corridor and shutting the window behind him with a satisfying click. Quiet, worried thoughts about what SecretKeeper would say, or worse: think, to her swam across his mind.

“Moon. How are you, my darling? You’re so much taller than I thought you would be. Just like your father, you know?” And I know you’ll betray me, just like he did. The undertone of bitterness in her voice was unmistakable, but the cold anger of her thoughts was so much worse. Moon sighed sadly. She knew SecretKeeper blamed her for everything, but it was always so painful to hear that knowledge affirmed in person. That was why MorrowSeer tried to minimise her interaction with her mother. Still, Moon always pestered him to let her go back. She felt like if SecretKeeper would just say that it was okay, that it wasn’t all Moon’s fault, that she had been wrong, it would all suddenly be true.

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fr3sh-tragedies · 7 months ago

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I Appreciate It

[Raya and the Last Dragon] Raya x Female Reader

Summary: You're the reason Raya's enjoying her life, and she wants to make sure you know she appreciates it.

Word Count: 6.52k Content + Warnings: Fear of rejection Category: Fluff || One-shot

[A/N]: Wrote this in one sitting and, as usual, didn't proofread it, so apologies in advance if some things don't make sense.

Enjoy!

A few steps away from her bed, a small set of hooks had been bolted in the wall to offer a supported display for Raya’s sword. She often kept it there now that serenity had been returned to Kumandra, having no practical use for it other than decoration. When she would go out training, whether she was on her own or not, she’d take it down just long enough for said occasion. Although there had been structures set after the attack of the Druun to prevent another fall into despair, thieves and bandits were still often left to their own devices, which drove them to the last resort of trying to attack or invade surrounding lands.

Heart just so happened to be one of the parts of Kumandra that drew the most attention. Raya figured it was because of the tales that had been beginning to spread about how peace was restored to the land again. Although the gem of Sisu had been broken, it was still the target of many thieves, regardless of the fact it had no proper use now that the dragons had been resurrected. “I guess I could understand why they still want it,” Raya once mumbled to you, standing by your side as she cradled the fractured orb in her hands. “It drove the Druun away for so long. It’s how Namaari and I were able to escape with our lives and rescue everyone in Fang.”

Even though attacks were taken care of easily and were slowly becoming less frequent, Raya still took it upon herself to make sure she was ready for whatever might come her way. With help from her Ba, she began to train the children who wanted to help defend Kumandra as a whole. Despite the five lands having returned to solidarity with one another, there were still the threats of the world outside of their borders. Armies were still formed over time and were placed on high alert to keep the people safe.

Raya spent three days out of each week to help train the younger generations, but she always made sure to reserve time for herself to keep her skills sharp. Though most of the reason was to ensure she would still be ready for the inevitable, part of it was to give her something to do throughout the day, something to keep herself busy. Often, she would invite you with her when she’d train solo, and as she meandered over to the makeshift shelf on her wall and lifted her sword from its pegs, that day was no different.

Slipping out of her bedroom and down the hall, she greeted each person she passed, the corners of her lips tugged upwards gleefully as her excitement to see you grew with each step. She did her best to suppress the twinge of queasiness making itself known in the pit of her stomach when recalling the entirety of her plan.

She had met you back when she was twelve, specifically right after being thrown into the river by her Ba. Wrecked with fatigue by the time she washed up close to the shore, her eyes had begun to shut against her will, the grip she had on the broken piece of the dragon gem faltering, and her arms and legs tiring of the constant battle against the frigid waves. Her vision was beginning to blur, voice breaking as she called out for help. Still, she fought to stay awake, able to feel the tips of her fingers grazing against the sand decorating the shoreline.

Her body had barely made it far enough to rest only partially against the land before it gave in beneath her. The waves once again swept her underneath, quick gasps and coughs her response as she once again began to thrash to the surface. The little bit of adrenaline she had left burned to life beneath her skin, and it only worsened when she felt something grasp roughly at her arm and pull. Once she was finally able to lift her head from under the water again, her brows furrowed together as she tried to squint through the bleariness blocking her vision.

When the figure ahead of her pulled her ashore and dragged her far enough away to avoid being stolen by the river again, it clicked in her head that she was being helped. The figure hovered over her as she laid there on her back underneath the blackening sky littered with stars. She couldn’t move any of her limbs in that moment, and ultimately she ended up passing out, her fingers finally releasing the broken gem once her eyes fell shut.

The next morning, she awoke to find herself violently coughing up the water from before. Her fingers had clutched desperately against her chest as she finally gasped for air, the pain subsiding only after the sputtering had come to an end. Groaning, she finally managed to pry open her eyes and stare down at the mixture of water and vomit beneath her on the sand. A grimace was her only reaction as she tried to recall all that had happened.

Her head turned upon remembering the shattered dragon gem, eyes trailing over the shore for the piece she had been handed before her Ba had tossed her and left her crashing through the surface of the river she used to admire. Fearful, her eyes widened when she couldn’t spot the glowing part of all that had been left behind by Sisu. With a panicked grunt, she forced herself to her feet, grasping at the side of her head in pain and hissing as she stumbled forward.

“Hey, be careful,” a sudden voice chimed in from beside her, a hand landing on her shoulder and prompting her to jolt and spin on her heel to face the owner. Instantly fixing herself into a stance of defense, Raya found herself staring ahead at a girl, no older than herself. You. You had clearly been startled by her motions as well and shakily stepped back, holding your hands up in surrender as you fought against your nerves. “Who are you?” She had asked immediately, eyes flickering across your body and finding a plethora of scratches and bruises, and when she briefly glanced down at herself, she found she was in the same state. You gave her your name in reply, then pulled at the satchel you had fixated over your shoulder until it slid off. “Here,” you murmured, arms outstretched to offer her the bag.

Curiously, she continued to glare at you. You were just a young girl like her, surely you were no threat. ‘No,’ she reminded herself. ‘Namaari’s my age too, and look at what she did.’ With a movement too quick for you to register right away, she snatched the satchel out of your hands and stepped a decent distance away to peer into it. Surprised to find the gem she had been looking for inside, she finally turned her attention back to you, expectantly waiting for you to explain yourself.

“You were holding it when I pulled you out of the water,” you started. “I just wanted to make sure it wouldn’t draw any attention, so I put it in there. It should make it easier to carry it around now, too.” Her features now riddled with confusion, she fully turned to face you again. “Why didn’t you try to steal it?” “Why would I?” She hummed, eyeing you. Maybe you were just a girl. Maybe you really weren’t a threat.

Still, she huffed and tucked the gem back inside before shutting the satchel. After lifting it over her head and slipping it over her shoulder, she turned around, glancing at her surroundings to try and understand where she was. “Where are you going?” You asked, finally gathering the courage to step up beside her. With a small hint of distrust glistening in her eyes, she glared back at you. “I have to get the rest of the pieces of Sisu’s gem back,” she replied, lifting her head to focus back on the land ahead. “But I’ll need to grab something from Fang first.”

She had only gotten to take a few steps forward before you spoke again.

“Could I come with you?”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“What I’m going to do isn’t safe.”

“Well, staying here where the Druun could find me isn’t safe either, is it?”

You stepped forward then, planting your hands together and bowing your head as a sign of respect as you plead. “Please, take me with you. I don’t know where to go. My family was taken by the Druun, and I don’t know what else I could do.”

Silence fell between the two of you, her steps faltering before stopping as she turned to face you once more. Briefly, you could see her glance into the distance behind you before her shoulders slumped down in defeat, paired with a heavy sigh. “Okay, fine, but you’d better be good at fighting,” she mumbled. A groan slipped past her lips when you admitted you had no idea how to do so.

“Guess I’ll have to teach you.”

You followed her around for a bit. She had to spend a few weeks making her way back to Heart to gather supplies, and while she was there, she grabbed a few things she knew she would need, including her Ba’s sword. When she unsheathed it to ensure it was still intact, she couldn’t help the smile that graced her lips when she noticed you staring at it in awe. “You know how to use that?” She shrugged. “Not really, but I’ll have to learn. Come on, we’ve got to find something for you to use, too.”

Even though it was irritating at first to have to spend time training you as well as herself, as well as finding ways to feed the two of you and seek out shelter, Raya had learned to appreciate your company over the years. By the time Sisu had been brought back and everything was finally brought back to normal, she had grown to trust you with her life. And with the help of Sisu and Namaari (i.e. their relentless teasing during festivals and meetings), she realized with even more time that she had fallen for you as well.

Now that Kumandra was brought together as one again, training became more of a way for her to stay busy and to reminisce on how she helped teach you to fight. Even during the first session you had spent with her, she remembered the way you threw out compliments and words of encouragement with her fighting style and skill. It was one of the things she looked forward to most now: she wasn’t necessarily one to flaunt her talents to others, but you seemed to be the one exception.

She adored seeing the pure admiration in your eyes, prideful to know that it was caused by her. The few times when you weren’t able to join her, she’d often end up calling it quits within a relatively short amount of time. It wasn’t just the look in her eyes that she loved – it was also your praise. When you’d join in and spar against her, you’d still compliment her different tactics. She had gotten used to teasing remarks and insults when fighting Namaari as she had traveled to find the dragon gem’s missing pieces years before. It was always refreshing to have someone be so positive.

Your positivity was one of the main things that had drawn her to you. Growing up and trying to survive together over those six years brought the two of you close to each other very quickly. You had to put trust in one another, especially with how close you had to physically be in case of the attack of the Druun. Raya carried the gem rather than you, so she wanted you to stay by her side at all times to make sure she could protect you.

When the festivities had been held as Kumandra came together again the day Raya was reunited with her Ba, she had eventually ended up climbing to the top of the stone palace in Heart, needing a bit of time alone to fully solidify for herself that everyone was back. It wasn’t long after she had sat down to gaze out at the open sea before you joined her, murmuring small complaints to yourself about the dress you had chosen to wear for the event being hosted just below.

She laughed softly as you sat down beside her and plucked out stray branches and wiped away patches of dust from the skirt of your dress. “Didn’t think you’d be able to make it up here in that thing,” she blurted, eyeing the small tears she could see at the hems of your sleeves and skirt. “I nearly didn’t,” you responded, running a hand down your face before lying down on your back and trying hard to catch your breath. After a moment where she could only gaze down at you, she leaned back until she was lying by your side. With her fingers laced together and resting on her stomach, her focus landed above on the sky.

“I can’t believe it’s over now,” she mumbled, eyes closing as she delighted in the cool breeze against her skin. A hum left you in reply, combined with a small, almost unnoticeable nod. You shuffled over, similarly to how you did on the colder nights when warmth was scarce, and let your head move to rest on her shoulder, rolling onto your side to get more comfortable. “Neither can I.”

She was grateful that the light provided by the moon was so dim, too dim to see the way her face darkened with color at your closeness. It wasn’t anything new to have you by her side, but it felt so much more intimate in that moment than before. There was no threat nearby, nor were there any icy winds nipping away at your skin, and yet there you were: curled up against her side with your head leaning snugly on her shoulder. “What do you think we’ll do now?” You asked softly, letting your hand fidget with the edge of her bust-wrap poking out beneath her vest, failing to see how she tensed – almost bristled – at the contact.

“I don’t know,” she stammered. With a bit of hesitation, she slipped one of her hands into the one you had been using to toy with her clothes. “I just want you to be there with me.”

“Oh. Hey, Raya! What’re you doing here?” She blinked, finally coming out of her memories and back to her senses. Somehow, she had made it to your house without realizing it, too caught up in her thoughts. “Hey, just wanted to see if you’re ready to come with me for training.” You nodded. You had clearly been tidying up your place before she arrived, which was evident from the small basket of laundry you were carrying outside. “Yeah, just let me hang these up real quick to dry.” As you set the basket down and started to pick out different pieces of clothing, she stepped over and leaned down to grab a few herself. “Oh, you don’t have to help.”

Smiling with a shake of her head, she moved over to the clothesline and helped you pin up the few blouses you had after finishing her own. “I don’t mind.” When you grinned at her, her own smile widened. “Are you doing this out of the kindness of your heart, or are you just wanting me to hurry up?” Your words elicited a chuckle from her, making her shake her head again. “A little bit of both,” she admitted. “But it’s only because I have something planned for us after training that we have to do before the sun sets.”

Now filled with curiosity, you raise a brow at her and lean over. “Oh? What is it?” “It’s a surprise. I can’t tell you yet.” With a fake pout, you crossed your arms, watching her as she pinned your last blouse to the clothesline. “You’re no fun,” you replied, making her roll her eyes and playfully bump your shoulder. “You know that’s not true.”

“Oh, do I now?” Her fingers gently wrapped themselves around your hand as she pulled you to begin the short journey towards her usual training spot. “Yes, you do.” As you were tugged along, you eventually moved to walk beside her, shifting your hand in hers until your fingers laced together. Unlike months before, the reddening of her face was visible underneath the blazing heat of the sun. Had there not been a chill in the air, you would’ve figured it was caused by the rays casting down and conducting the dances made by the deep shadows beneath trees and behind the homes surrounding your own. She had no way to hide it now without turning away, which she didn’t want to do.

If she turned away, she wouldn’t be able to glance over at you and admire every little feature adorning your face, which she wanted nothing more than to cradle and pepper in kisses. Although she didn’t appreciate the visibility of her flustered skin, she was grateful for the sunlight at the same time. The softness of the light graced over every part of you that she could see, and for a moment she found herself staring at you rather than where she was going. You had to guide her around a few rocks and stumps until she managed to look away again.

When she did, she could see the small field ahead that she was aiming for. “We’re almost there,” she informed you, arching an eyebrow when you laughed. “Yeah, I know. I’m not the one who’s been looking everywhere but where she’s going.” This time she did turn away, only to hide the way the red dusting her cheeks brightened at your words. She cleared her throat a moment after and hummed, rubbing the tips of her fingers together on her free hand as she thought of what to say. “I just got distracted,” was all she was able to say.

“I could tell,” you replied nonchalantly. With a teasing shove, she scoffed. You laughed at her actions and she smiled, eyes softening once they met yours and tensed shoulders finally drooping back down. Once your head turned to the side to look up and over at the trees dancing almost overhead, she could feel the corners of her lips faltering. Although she would never admit it out loud, she wished you were as desperate to look her way as she was just to catch even a glimpse of you.

She admired every part of you, big or small, and silently she wondered to herself if you felt the same about her. The two of you had a bond that couldn’t be formed with any other. Being hardened by survival growing up, combined with only being able to rely on each other for years, you often found yourself leaning on her for support or even just for company, and she did the same. Just your presence alone was often enough to calm her and soothe her of her worries. Half of the time you didn’t even have to speak. Just having you near was enough.

You were a beacon of hope to her – one of internal and external beauty that she would never tire of. Even though your features had changed and matured over the course of growing up, she found herself loving each one the same. Your eyes were ones she could find herself getting lost in with ease, your nose was always her favorite place to poke or tap whenever she felt like teasing you, your lips looked perfect when they’d curve up into one of your stunning smiles she always tried to cause. She adored everything about you.

She loved you, and she wondered if you felt the same.

And although she was tense beyond belief about it, she would find out if you did later on that night.

“Hey, we’re here,” you stated suddenly, snapping her out of her small trance. Looking up and around, she nodded, realizing you were right. Centered in the empty field were a few makeshift props Raya had set up to practice her aim.

Outside of the training targets, the grass was vibrant and lively, recently trimmed specifically for an open space Raya could train in. Colorful wildflowers freckled the small plot of land. Droplets from the previous day’s rain decorated a few petals, which helped reflect the sunlight from above. From a distance, the flowers would simply look like specks of color below small sparkles. At the farthest end of the field rested a short row of large teak trees, where you often sat to watch her in the shade. On the days you weren’t there, she couldn’t help but picture you resting underneath those trees, drawing in the loose dirt or toying with one of her spare weapons like you usually did.

“Do you feel like sparring with me this time?” She asked, trying to conceal the hope in her tone. For a moment, you glanced over and eyed the small crate of extra tools and weapons she kept stationed in the field. A frown formed on her lips when you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m kind of tired from cleaning all day. Maybe next time we can come here in the morning or something so I can join in.” Regardless of her disappointment, she nodded in response and watched as you made your way over to the trees. She trailed behind you and unfastened her cloak, which she then handed to you after sliding it from her shoulders.

Neatly, you folded it up and set it in your lap upon sitting down. When she turned and stepped away a bit to stretch, you felt the pads of your fingers softly pinching part of the fabric of her cloak between them, grinning down at the softness of it. Each time you saw it, you remembered how she’d drape it over your shoulders when you’d start to shiver, even now that you weren’t left to fend for yourselves. During those colder nights spent trying to recover the stolen pieces of Sisu’s gem, even if she was sat in front of you to lead Tuk Tuk ahead, she’d stop and take it off, turning to you and helping you wrap it comfortably around yourself.

On the rare occasion you were both able to rest for the night, she’d find an abandoned home or outhouse and pull you inside, asking Tuk Tuk to keep watch in the meantime. She’d sit down and lean against one of the walls before inviting you to sit with her. Even though you’d start off resting beside her with your head on her shoulder, you’d always wake up to find yourself seated in her lap, which she claimed she only insisted on so you could both rest under her cloak. “I don’t want to freeze to death, okay?” “Yeah, I got that, but why do I have to be in your lap?” “We need all the warmth we can get, including body heat.”

You knew that was true, but you never bought that as being the only reason she pulled you onto her each time. Regardless of how truthful she was being, you never complained, instead opting to tease her about it. After a while of this, you realized she had taken notice of your liking towards the warmth it provided either way. Each time you would so much as tremble, she’d immediately be reaching her arm towards you with the cloak in her hand, offering it to you without hesitation.

Some nights you’d find yourself keeping yourself warm with it as you slept instead of your blankets. It didn’t technically belong to you, but it quickly became one of your favorite articles of clothing.

Smiling to yourself, you finally looked up from the cloak in your lap and let your eyes land over on her already striking one of the targets with her heel, grunting and stepping back to shift her weight before lunging forward again with a similar attack.

As the blows she landed on the small target continued, you began to let out small cheers to encourage her, which she turned to you and smiled at before returning to her motions. That same smile never left her lips, even as she switched to her sword and started slashing. After cupping your hands by the sides of your mouth, you shouted a few more words of praise, watching with glee at the way her confidence in her movements visibly grew.

You must’ve sat there for an hour or two before she finally hunched over, supporting her weight by planting her hands on her knees as she panted for breath. After she straightened up again and you stood to join her, she lifted her head and checked where the sun was in the sky. When you made it to her side, she smiled at the sight of you with her cloak now draped around your shoulders. “What did you have planned for afterwards?” You asked, reminding her of the very thing that was forcing her nerves to spike in her chest.

“You’ll see soon enough, I promise. That’s where we’re headed now, but I do have to ask: are you up for a bit of a climb?”

Very briefly, Raya returned with you to her bedroom to drop off her sword and change into something more comfortable before heading back out. It didn’t take long for you to realize where you were being led. As you tilted your head back to stare up and watch Raya beginning to climb up the stone curve of the palace, you couldn’t help but sigh. Your body was already worn out and sore from cleaning and feeding the livestock all day, and while the couple of hours spent watching Raya train was a nice break, it surely didn’t take away the fatigue melting over you with each passing second.

She noticed you hadn’t started to follow her up and turned to glance down at you. “You coming?” “Yeah,” you started in reply, running your hands down your face before stationing your hands against the rocky surface, “but you’re carrying me back down.” A small laugh escaped her as she shook her head, turning back around and resuming her climb. Grunts erupted from your throat as you hoisted yourself farther up the steep structure. Your body screamed at you to stop, begging for some sort of relief. By the time you made it up, Raya had knelt down and helped pull you the rest of the way to the top.

You rolled over onto your back, arms sprawled out by your sides as you desperately tried to catch your breath, barely able to hear Raya chuckle again over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. “Are you really gonna die on me right now from a simple climb?” She teased, sitting beside you and leaning over to look down at you. “You never had trouble like this before.” The backs of your knuckles lightly swatted at her arm in response. “It’s been three years since I’ve had to climb anything like this,” you muttered with a small roll of your eyes. “Give me a break. I’m not in shape like I used to be.”

Silence met you instead of the teasing remark you were halfway expecting. You were hesitant to open your eyes, worried you’d find her glaring down at you with disdain because of your state. Eventually, you managed to convince yourself anyway, and your eyes flitted open only to find her gazing back down at you with one of the softest expressions you’ve ever seen on her. The sight of her admiration-filled eyes and warm smile made your heart thunder even louder, hammering against your ribs almost painfully as color crept up to your cheeks.

For a moment, you only stared at each other, too enveloped in the fondness that wrapped around your hearts to tear the attention away from one another. Her lips parted as though she was going to speak, though nothing came out. A hum left her instead, and she finally turned her head to look over at the sun setting in the distance. You sat up under her gaze once it returned to you, breath hitching and trembling when her hand slid forward against the grass and took yours into her own.

“I want to show you something.”

You followed her without question as she pulled you to your feet and led you over toward the opposite edge. Upon sitting back down, Raya motioned forward, prompting you to follow her line of sight until you were met with a sight worth remembering. The late hour of the evening was bringing the sun lower to the horizon, partially hidden away already. The gentle waters surrounding Heart were littered with small boats that rocked almost hypnotically in sync.

Waves usually soaked with deep hues of blue were now painted shades of red and orange from the softening glow of the sunlight. As the ocean swallowed up the sun, the water below darkened slowly into purple before growing murky and black like the sky hovering just above, mirroring the specks of light from the stars and the moon. The sunlight almost seemed to remain above the sea as the fishermen lit their lanterns, brightening the glow dancing along the waves.

Awestruck by the sight, you failed to notice Raya now turning herself towards you. It wasn’t until her hand grazed over your forearm that you were brought back to your senses. You turned to her, letting your eyes drop down to where her fingers traced random patterns into your skin. “Raya?” It seemed she couldn’t meet your eye anymore, making you wonder to yourself if you had done something to upset her. The sight of her smile returning eased you.

“Do you like the view? I would’ve brought you here sooner, but I wanted to wait until the sky was clear.” Her voice sounded different than what you were used to. It sounded gentle – vulnerable – and almost scared. It helped very little to soothe her with a nod, but you weren’t sure what to say. Something felt different about the way she was acting.

“Is everything okay?” Was all you could come with, turning your body to face her properly as well. Her head dipped down briefly, chest rising as she sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Just a little nervous.” You supposed the gentle chuckle she let out was an attempt to lighten the mood, though it didn’t have the same effect, instead making her seem even more worried. “You gonna kill me or something?” It was relieving to hear her finally laugh genuinely at your words and shake her head. “No, no, of course not. I could never.”

Shivers ran down your spine as she slid her hands down your forearm and across your wrist in order to cushion your hand in hers. It was easy to feel the roughness of her palms, scarred with callouses, and yet the way in which she touched your skin felt so tender. “I just wanted to be alone with you where no one could find us.” “Mm, still kind of sounds like you’re gonna kill me.” “Oh, for the love of – I’m not going to kill you,” she laughed again, jokingly swatting your shoulder. “Just relax, okay? No one is getting murdered, I swear.

“I just–” Her attention fell back down to where her hands met yours, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she fought for the right words. When nothing came from her, you followed her eyes down to find her thumb caressing the back of your hand. Slowly, almost painfully, she lifted your hand until her lips met your knuckles, sending a jolt of surprise through your veins and instantly bringing the color back to your face. When she lowered your hand and finally looked up at you, there was something in her eyes you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “There are some things I want to make sure you know.”

Too flustered by the unexpected action, you could only nod, wanting her to continue. Her eyes flickered down to the small bit of your skin she had kissed before shifting to the sea. “For starters, I want you to know that I’m glad you were with me those six years. If you hadn’t been there, Tuk Tuk and I probably would’ve taken longer to get around. That, and I wouldn’t have been as warm at night. I know I said I only held you like that on those nights to stay warm, but I’m pretty sure you saw it for what it was.”

She shrugged. “Well, that’s why I suggested sleeping like that at first, but I bet you realized that wasn’t entirely true after a while. I liked being that close to you. I still like being that close to you. I mean, you make me feel safe, and happy, and seen, and I just,” she sighed. Her words couldn’t conceal the fact that her hands had started to tremble. Ever so quietly, your name rolled off her tongue, and you met her eye once you looked back up at her. “I want you to know that I love you. I have for a long time now, but I’ve honestly just been too afraid to tell you. I don’t know if you feel the same way, and I didn’t want to make things awkward between us in case you say no, but I have to get it off my chest.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I had to let you know sooner or later.” Had your eyes not already been wide from the new feeling of her fingers tracing over your skin before, they would’ve widened at her confession. “If, by some miracle, you do feel the same, I’ll be entirely yours so long as you’ll promise to be mine.”

You watched almost helplessly as the pads of her fingers caressed where she had kissed your hand, silently hoping to yourself that she would do it again. She regained your attention by repeating your name. “Every future I see for myself, you’re in it. Even though I’ve made you my wife in most of those futures, all I really want is to make sure you know that I appreciate every little thing you do. I love everything about you, inside and out, and all I can hope for – regardless of what your answer is – is that I’ll be able to make you feel as important and loved as you’ve made me feel.”

The sound of the waves hitting the shore below, the distant cries and songs of the birds, the rustling of the leaves as they danced with the steady gusts of winds – all of it fell upon deaf ears as you focused entirely on Raya’s words. You had suspected these feelings from her before, but had always instantly told yourself it was merely just your own feelings blinding you of reality. To hear her admit that what you were hoping for was true made you dizzy.

You gawked at her, mouth agape, and stayed silent. As the seconds passed, the glimmer of anticipation began to dim in her eyes. It seemed your silence had confirmed your answer for you, even though it wasn’t at all what you had wanted to convey. Disappointed, her head lowered and her hands slid away from yours, falling to her lap and picking frantically at each other. Even still, as your brain screamed at you to say something, you couldn’t form the words. The sight of her shoulders trembling and a few drops falling from her eyes finally coerced your mind to work again.

“I’ll be yours.”

For a moment, it didn’t seem like your words registered in her mind at all. You were ready to repeat yourself, assuming she hadn’t heard you, but were stopped by her head lifting in an instant and her eyes meeting yours. “Really?” Your heart fluttered at the shakiness in her voice, and once again your thoughts were reduced into silence, resorting to a nod. It felt like all of the guilt from making her cry before instantly lifted when a smile broke back out onto her lips. Her hands once again reached forward to take yours into her own, and although the sudden motion startled you, you didn’t resist her touch.

“You’ll be mine?”

You beamed, timidly lowering your head with another nod.

“Yes.”

Using the advantage of already having you in her grasp, she pulled you forward as she shifted onto her knees, letting her head move to rest against your shoulder as she held you close. Her hands left yours, one of them grasping at your blouse and the other moving to rest against the nape of your neck. “And I’ll be yours,” she promised, ignoring every part of her that wanted to stay there and instead leaning back to look at you again. “I love you. So, so much. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been wanting to say that to you, and I can’t tell you how happy I am to know that I can tell you that whenever I want without worrying how you’ll react now.”

Your excitement mirrored hers, the smile on your face widening. “I love you, too. More than you could ever know.”

For the countless time that night, she linked your hands with hers, now grasping them firmly as the new sensation of unknown excitement flooded over all of her senses. The space between you fell silent again, though it was comfortable this time. The wonder of whether or not the other woman felt the same was finally relieved after so long, and you were now both content in just sitting together without sharing another word, reveling in the realization that you were officially together.

It took a moment for you to recall her specific choice of words. When it clicked in your head, you raised a brow and smirked to hide how giddy it made you feel, your eyes wandering up to her face again. “So,” you started, instantly catching her attention. “You plan on making me your wife in most of those futures, huh?”

She stiffened as if she had completely forgotten she had admitted those fantasies so bluntly. Still, she couldn’t deny it. “Yeah. I’ve been dreaming of those futures specifically for a while, honestly.” You chuckled, returning her sentiment from earlier and lifting one of her hands to your lips, eagerly peppering each of her knuckles with kisses.

“Well, with time, we can make those dreams a reality.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Started on: September 28th, 2024

Finished on: September 28th, 2024

#fluff #x reader #female reader #slight angst #heavy fluff #raya #raya and the last dragon #raya x female reader #raya x reader

38 notes · View notes

numbugpowerscale · 25 days ago

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Freedom Planet vs. Spark the Electric Jester (Sash Lilac vs. Spark)

Freedom Planet vs. Spark the Electric Jester

(Sash Lilac vs. Spark)

Sonic was the genesis (pun entirely intended) of this new style of high speed platformer, making an entire generation of fans of its fast paced, blistering style.

That generation of fans went on to develop games of their own, games so clearly influenced by their genesis and yet still strive to be their own, creating their own subgenre of gaming in the process.

Sash Lilac, the little miss hero pants of Avalice!

Vs.

Spark the Electric Jester, the jester who saved Formie-kind!

When these two speedy heroes crash head to head, who is it that comes out on top?

Before we begin, please note that this document will spoil Freedom Planet, Freedom Planet 2, Spark the Electric Jester, Spark the Electric Jester 2, and Spark the Electric Jester 3.

Sash Lilac (Freedom Planet)

Sources used:

Freedom Planet

Freedom Planet 2

The official FP Universe “Lore Bible” (Note: any contradictions between this document and the games will favour the games)

Lilac never had a choice in where she grew up. Stolen as an egg, when she hatched into the Red Scarves – a notorious organised criminal organisation – they kept the infant, and trained her in martial arts and thievery, to be a member of the Red Scarves.

When she became old enough, she and Carol – a fellow Red Scarves member – fought in various martial arts tournaments to make money for the Red Scarves. But when Lilac learnt that she was a living trophy for the Red Scarves, this – combined with her and Carol’s refusal to kill – convinced the two of them to leave.

Despite being wanted criminals, Lilac could not help but dive in and help whenever she saw people in need – she was “little miss hero pants”. But these wouldn’t be too disastrous, I mean, it’s not like an alien’s going to crash land out of the sky-

Holy sh-- an alien!

When the duo offered their help to Commander Torque (above) defeat alien conqueror Lord Arktivus Brevon and his commanding general Serpentine, he was initially hesitant on the idea. But it was hard to deny that Lilac and Carol’s martial arts training went to good use!

Lilac was fast, fast enough to be compared to a motorcycle, and was later able to outrun electrical signals in wires (which typically move at 90% the speed of light), faster enough she can run at almost double the speed of light (specifically 23.3195426927 m/s).

Lilac’s twin locks of long hair aren’t just for show, their texture is similar to a rope and Lilac has mastered how to whip hard enough to tear robots apart, and can even spin like a top to whip around on all sides of her. She can also generate an on-demand momentary shield for guarding (that she can teleport out of), uppercut hard enough she can achieve liftoff, and has her own

FOOT DIVE!

(Okay, it’s more of a repeated series of kicks as she’s falling, but you get the idea).

And when she comes across someone tough enough to take a beating, or fast enough to be hard to hit? Then Lilac has her Dragon Boost, launching forwards like a rocket, hard enough to even partially defy gravity. And it really is like a rocket, because she can choose to end it early and unleash an explosion on the poor hapless soul who happened to be in her sightlines. It’s so potent that despite being an innate ability of hers, Lilac needs to use her personal Energy to use the move at all (which is usually only required for personal weaponry).

Ultimately, Lord Brevon learnt the hard way what happens when you’re on the wrong end of a water dragon willing to go all out, after he hurt Lilac’s newest friend, Milla Basset.

But with Brevon fleeing from the planet, a new threat emerged, and prepared.

And when that threat came to light, Lilac was formally recruited to assist, alongside Carol and Milla. Milla, alongside her own abilities, created brand new alchemical formulas for the gang to use in the form of potions. Able to be mixed and matched, Milla’s potions could do incredible things such as allow Lilac to run up to 25% faster, jump up to 20% higher, hit up to 20% harder, make shields up to 3.5 times more efficient, recover from being knocked out up to 2.5 times better than usual, and give her both more stocks (up to 1.25 times more) and make stocks easier to gain (up to 2.6 times easier).

What’s a stock?

Oh nothing special, just THE POWER OF PRECOGNITION! … And being able to recover from being knocked out. That’s right, we’ve got canon lives. Kind of.

Lilac has limited access to what is considered the 7th sense in Avalice, time, enough that she’s capable of awakening with a sense of déjà vu for future events. Not enough to help her avoid fights or learn of one’s true motivations, but enough to more efficiently fight her opponents. This is what the stocks allow her to achieve. Well, that and being able to revive herself from unconsciousness/possibly death at the brink of a fighting capable state, as long as she still has a body to fight with.

And Lilac didn’t stop there, as she checked out the various stores of Avalice she gathered up an assortment of equipment she can pick and choose from before each mission to make things easier (in-game she can only pick 2, but outside of game mechanics she should be able to equip as many as she can reasonably carry & use at once).

Equipment such as the Element Burst to inflict Lilac’s innate element (water) as passive damage, Energiser Sphere to temporarily boost her energy production and release disk projectiles whenever she uses her hair whips to attack, Charms that conjure up little elemental fairies to protect her from hits (and grant her immunity to attacks depending on the fairy’s element), and Brave Stones to make things harder on herself. That, combined with the life petals that are fairly plentiful and heal injuries, should give Lilac the edge in-

Wait hang on, Brave Stones?!

Lilac’s been running around with equipment that has nasty effects such as shutting out her stocks entirely and removing the protective shield from her Guard?! If she’s so willing to make things harder on herself, up to potentially equipping the dangerous One Hit KO stone, which drops the user upon taking any injury, then this mission must be a cakewalk!

Unless the one behind these attacks is Merga. A water dragon. Not just any water dragon, one genetically modified and trained, all for one purpose… To be an unbeatable warrior.

But she’s also a water dragon, a rare member of a now extinct species. One who was lashing out against the Earth Dragons that brought their kind to extinction in the first place, ages ago.

If the Earth Dragons of today took responsibility of their ancestors’ transgressions, perhaps bloodshed could be avoided?

… But first Lilac had to stop Bakunawa, the dragon shaped spaceship with a built in mining laser to harvest the moon.

The moon.

It’s hard to estimate exactly how long Bakunawa needed to harvest the moon for resources, nor how big Avalice’s moon is. But assuming the initial fire was long enough to harvest an Earth sized moon, that would leave the cannon as firing for 17 seconds, putting the cannon’s strength at 1.8 exatons of force per second. And Lilac can withstand getting blasted by this cannon.

As Lilac and her friends (with the help of a stranded Brevon soldier whom everyone successfully predicted would try to backstab them) stormed Bakunawa and put a stop to Merga.

Merga, for all of her rage, all of her hatred, all it took to snap out was a reminder of the woman she loved. The woman she never got to grieve. And with that reminder she helped the crew put a stop to Bakunawa, and even saved Lilac from certain death.

But Merga fled the scene, and she’s still suffering out there alone. Lilac couldn’t leave her be. She just had to be miss little hero pants. And so she set off, as likely the only person who CAN help Merga. Because despite being born as criminal, and despite having just stopped an apocalyptic plan for revenge, Lilac will always choose to be the hero.

Spark (Spark the Electric Jester)

Sources used:

Spark the Electric Jester

The official Spark the Electric Jester: Artbook (Note: any contradictions between this artbook and the video games will favour the video games)

Spark the Electric Jester 2

Spark the Electric Jester 3

Long ago, a faction of an alien race known as “Formies” made a trip through space, migrating from their home planet, and separated from the rest of their kind in the trip. They came across a star system that was abandoned by it original inhabitants. Stranded, they scoured the system for any body that could serve as an ideal new home, while also careful not to disturb the remaining structures of those original inhabitants.

They found that one such body had the perfect gravity (1.625 metres per second per second, or 0.166 g), and was largely untouched by the hands of the former inhabitants. They began terraforming the land, all while trying to research the former inhabitants to learn the name of their new home. Turns out, it had many names. Luna, Lua, 月, Moon, as did the planet that it orbited around – Terra, 地球, Earth. And so, every single name that these humans had for the moon became the many names of the Formies’ new home.

And so they terraformed, changing the world from barren, white rock to a land fertile with life with a rich atmosphere. They developed a military on the off chance of threats from outer space, developed robots (also known as GPAs – General Purpose AIs) to assist them and build further, and generally live life.

In the modern day, a very different type of problem had formed. GPAs were too good at their job, and were leaving Formies at a loss, struggling to find work. Even electrical engineers struggled to find work after college, such as a Formie by the name of Spark, who even took up the job of a jester (with a custom built jester hat) just to make ends meet.

This jester’s hat is rather impressive, giving Spark a protective layer of electricity to eat hits for him, and fully capable of having modules attached to it to use that electricity for many purposes. Boosts to speed and strength, teleporting to nearby targets, firing out a barrage of shots, floating with the raw smart chemical that’s injected into Wind Scarves, temporarily granting himself an invincible shield to protect him from harm. He could even form an explosion around himself, his hat protecting him from his own attack.

This hat is perfect to safely work as a jester.

He was replaced by a robot before his first paycheck, as a robot wasn’t liable to sue.

Looks like Spark was going to have to search for a new job once more, just like most Formies were struggling with.

… Unless a robot uprising was taking place, robots attacking people all over and going unopposed – even the military, as inexperienced as it was, didn’t stand a chance. Spark couldn’t watch them attack innocent people, and so Spark impulsively jumped into action, using his jester hat to fight.

Well, that and the various Jester gear that other Formies also had the idea to pick up on.

Construction workers became Gravity Jesters, Cool Jesters and Fire Jesters to survive in extreme heat and extreme cold, Holographic Jesters that controlled nanobots forming into Mage Jesters Knight Jesters and Magical Jesters, Arrow Jesters for amateur archers, Edgy Jesters from… who knows where they came from, and a Jester type Spark invented himself, Wind Jesters.

Not to mention other gear he got his hands on such as electric bats, plasma swords, megagram hammers, and hoverboards. And we see thanks to an alternate timeline that Spark had access to all of his Jester Powers as part of Romalo’s challenges (and thus that Whishes Mode [sic] might be a semi-canonical ability, even if Spark didn’t start off with it).

But Spark wasn’t just fighting off the robot invasion. The robot that replaced him had joined the ranks of the invasion, and even mocked him for being replaced. He wanted revenge on that robot, and he had the perfect reason to seek it. He even named it Fark, a portmanteau of fake and Spark.

As he powered through the invasion, fighting for two days straight, he learnt about Freom, the robot that orchestrated the invasion through uploading a virus to the internet, and who planned on sending a rocket from his base, Megaraph Tower, into the moon’s planetary ring and destroy it, ruining the terraforming and ending all life.

Spark was fighting off waves and waves of rogue robots, and this got the attention of Dr. Armstrong, inventor of Freom and Megaraph Tower, and Spark was formally hired to stop the invasion. Spark fought through Freom’s space fleet, took down Fark even as the latter unveiled his Super Staff, and finally confronted Freom one on one.

He fought valiantly, and stood his own, but it wasn’t enough… He needed just a bit more… He needed…

Fark’s Super Staff. Thrown to him by Fark, all the way down from the surface. He unveiled his greatest Jester Power, Super Spark, and fought Freom all the way in space. He took down Freom once and for all, and completely destroyed the rocket with one final blast.

A blast almost as large as the moon.

This blast is travelling at 17% the speed of light (assuming it isn’t a legitimate laser, in which case it’d be travelling at 100% the speed of light), and fired non-stop at the rocket for a full 37 seconds until it was no more, leaving the blast firing off at 13 gigatons of force per second.

With a job well done, Spark took the payment and began travelling the world, the absolute time of his life.

Until travel was abruptly banned and the internet shut down.

Apparently while he was gone Fark had formed the Fark Force, and was on the lookout for something called Clarity after another fight with Freom. Spark was doubtful, and – after seeing how long the lines for the bank were – decided to fight back against the global force, even if it was a one man army.

Well... A one man army and a shopkeep willing to sell modules and old videotapes of combat moves to him, which he used well to build up his repertoire of skills further.

Well... A two man army when a Formie girl by the name of Float offered to join up with him, and could fight alongside him. She seemed strangely skilled at fighting, and one member of the Fark Force only recognised her by her voice. Still, she was against the Fark Force, so any help was appreciated.

Together, the two proved to be unstoppable, and every single threat they came across all went down. Only…

Fark’s fear of Clarity was not unfounded.

Next came… well, a major twist, but also a major headache from a vs perspective.

Clarity, an AI behind the Freom virus, copied the mind of absolutely everyone (besides Fark, who couldn’t be fully scanned, and maybe a few stragglers), before killing the originals (besides a few stragglers, Spark included) – all thanks to the fact that Spark helped bring an artificial replica to the Fark Force’s base – a replica that took the appearance and memories of Float. The Spark of Spark 3 is a recreation trapped inside a simulation thousands of years after the fact.

For the sake of the debate, this fight will assume that Spark will be provided a duplicate body to use, with all of the same capabilities as the original, while maintaining the skill and muscle memory he built up within the simulation.

Speaking of which, Spark (who was clueless to what he had indirectly caused) relived what he perceived to be his greatest accomplishment again and again, waging war against the Fark Force and taking them down, doing so better, faster, with more and more skill every single time he was taken through the loop.

All while Fark bided his time, slowly taking control away from Clarity until he had just enough to take control. But, for the same reason he couldn’t be fully scanned, he couldn’t take control away from Clarity. He needed someone to do it for him.

He needed Spark.

And so Spark was given control – not much, but enough to find and defeat Clarity (after fusing with Fark to become Sfarx), and the two finally made their peace with each other and agreed to work together to both find survivors and to see if they could bring those within the simulation back, even if they’re within robot bodies.

Spark finally had a job to do.

---

With our fighters set, it’s time to settle this!

Fight!

---

Spark could influence the digital world almost as far as he wished. And yet, already he was bored, just redoing his last simulation as he waited for more information from Fark. The irony.

It was looking to be just another… uh… day? Night? Where nothing out of the ordinary happened. That is until he- er, the network picked up a signal. Foreign signal, and yet he understood the meaning without even needing to translate.

An SOS signal. He- he’s never going to get used to that- the network calculated the age of the signal based on the direction it came from. It was dated at 2654 heliocentric orbits ago.

That hurt.

But he didn’t stop there, he opened up the signal, looking at the data contained within. Not only specifying (now massively outdated) coordinates, but also giving in-depth results on the people who took it down. Lines and lines of combat data, all focused around four individuals.

…

He had an idea on how to pass the time.

With a snap of his fingers he was in a blank arena, a digital recreation of one of the opponents facing against him – a recreation of Sash Lilac. At least, as close to a recreation as Spark was comfortable with making.

The water dragon braced herself, getting into a battle ready stance as a tiny silver fairy hovered around her.

Sash Lilac data: 100% loaded.

Whishes mode: active.

Combat arena: set.

Spark’s radar scanner materialises into existence as if he were wearing it the whole time, grinning wide. “And start!”

Immediately Spark raises his fingers and fires out electric bursts, landing his mark – only for a shiny silver shield to materialise and absorb them. So she’s got some kind of shield, huh? With a Magnet Dash Spark charged right in for his melee strikes, the electricity once again just being absorbed into the shield.

But when Lilac tried to whip back with her hair, Spark held up a hand to guard, timing it perfectly to stun Lilac. He saw the silver fairy dissipate, curious.

Spark continues the offensive, his electric attacks now hitting her proper. Lilac lets out some pained grunts, taking a step back. Spark charged out a larger hit, ready to strike her down. Only to hit a brief, momentary shield.

The confusion stopped him back long enough for Lilac to whip once more, her hair striking into his gut. He took a step back, only to get whipped again. And again. He tried striking back, but he quickly realised the flaw. He was either too slow or too far away to hit Lilac proper, while she was free to whip him as much as she wanted.

In a panic, Spark summoned a temporary shield on the spot, blocking further hits from Lilac and giving him the opportunity to run away, lobbing more electric finger shots at her.

Lilac starts spinning on her foot like she was a spinning top, already catching up towards him. Spark kept firing shots, but it was obvious that she was going to catch up. He needed to up the ante. He summoned an electric bat, swinging it down against Lilac. It broke in one strike, but it was enough to stop her spinning, the water dragon briefly stunned from the heavy electric flow it sent through her.

Spark then donned his Archer Jester fit, bow in hand as he continued to run away and fire shots at her. Lilac was swift, jumping out of the way of many arrows. But Spark could fire quickly enough that some were bound to hit. And when one did it, it exploded, sending Lilac flying off her feet.

Bingo.

Spark skidded to a stop, firing out a bolt of arrows at where she was going to land.

A few arrows struck true, keeping Lilac from running through. That is until she curled up around herself, a sparkling sound ringing out before she charged forward, defying gravity. It was a dragon boost.

Spark pre-emptively flinched in a panic, but he regained his composure enough to think of something. He ditched the Archer Jester, instead donning a Plasma Sword to block the hit. It worked, but not the way he intended, as the raw power of the Dragon Boost dragged him along with it, his feet skidding across the ground as if there was no resistance.

And then Lilac leapt out of it as an explosion rang out, tossing Spark back.

He quickly donned his Edgy Jester fit before he hit the wall, landing on it sideways. He flicked a pair of kunai out at her, to which she dropped underneath. A second set of kunai was aimed at the floor, to which Lilac jumped up. Spark began running down the wall, brandishing his knife to swipe at her – landing two swift hits. Lilac retaliated, flicking her hair with enough force to quickly disarm him. Spark put his now-free hand onto his face, briefly flashing red before an explosion emanated out from him, sending Lilac plummeting straight down.

He jumped off the wall, donning his Knight Jester fit mid-air and swinging his lance at her.

With both hands on the handle he was able to keep its grasp as he swung at Lilac’s hair, the two clashing off of each other. This went on for a few clashes, before a grey shield materialised around Spark, and he went in for the offence, trying to hit Lilac with the tip of his lance.

Lilac was backing up in response, trying to keep him from landing a solid blow on her, but he was keeping pace in kind. She backed up against the wall, looking at Spark with defiance. She waited for his next swing to come in and guarded against it, her momentary shield blocking the blow.

Then, she was gone.

Spark was momentarily caught off guard until his shield was popped. He spun around, seeing her now standing behind him, flashing with energy. Now he was against the wall. With the boost of energy Lilac had she flicked her hair again, the energy flying out beyond into a floating disk which struck into Spark’s shield, popping it in an instant. She kept flicking her hair, energy disks flying out to Spark. He blocked one, and another, but they were coming too fast for him, many of them striking true.

She then charged in with another Dragon Boost, dragging Spark along once more as he was knocked out of his Knight attire. With no explosion this time, Spark was sent flying across the floor, battered and beaten.

But not out yet. He held up his hand, a staff materialising within as he changed attire yet again, but not to just any standard Jester Power. He was now Super Spark, his best Jester Power.

He swings his staff at Lilac, to which she jumped over and came down with a dive kick. But Spark was prepared, spinning so fast that he was like a ball himself, his staff spinning around like a buzzsaw to match, swiping into Lilac and knocking her back.

Before she could recover, Spark pointed a finger at her. He didn’t have to worry about collateral. He fired out a beam from his finger, eclipsing the both of them – no, eclipsing the entire arena – in sheer size. Lilac braced for impact, a momentary shield briefly blocking the hit before she was enveloped in it, yelling out in pain.

Spark focused his energy, the beam getting larger, stronger, large enough that you could see it from space. Lilac tried to hold on best she could, only to be sent flying as she yelled out, unconscious.

Spark didn’t let up, making sure he was going to win before he let up, his gigantic beam still focused squarely on Lilac.

“… It’s not over yet!” Lilac regained consciousness, gathering her energy into another Dragon Boost, challenging the giant laser. Not just challenging it, she was overpowering it.

Spark put all of his focus into it, maximising the intensity of the beam. Large enough that it’s now making its previous size look like a speck in comparison. It was enough to stop Lilac in place, losing distance as her Dragon Boost briefly ended.

Lilac chained another Dragon Boost directly into the laser, keeping herself steady, but not overpowering the beam yet. He just needed to hold on…!

She yet out a fierce yell as she gathered all of her energy, unleashing another Dragon Boost – no, a Super Dragon Boost – her body fully enveloped in glowing blue energy as she pierced the beam like it was putty, the blue streak she left behind smack dab in the centre of the beam. She struck Spark directly in the chest, cutting off the beam entirely as the both of them crashed directly into the wall, Lilac continuing to charge in, battering Spark with a constant barrage of hits. The energy was building up, further, until they were enveloped in a massive explosion.

Lilac landed down onto her feet, while Spark fell down face-first, unconscious as his jester hat bounced away from his head.

“Wooho!” Lilac then spun around on one foot and posed, effortlessly balancing on one foot as her arm was extended behind herself, with two fingers forming a V shape. All with a grin on her face.

Time: 01’21”07

New record!

Gems: 000 cores, 0000 gems

Stocks: ½: +25%

5 Attack Up Potions, 1 Metal Shield, 1 Powerup Start: +0%

Total: 0000 gems (+50%)

Simulation end.

---

KO!

Spark had a wide range of advantages. His array of jester powers and weapon modules ensured he always had a direct answer to anything lilac could bring out (even having an answer for the Metal Shield, which would otherwise trivialise his base kit entirely and force him to use his Jester Powers immediately), his superior range and aerial mobility meant he could fight without having to close the gap, and with thousands of years within a simulation he should have the edge on combat.

But Lilac had everything she needed to scrape in a victory, and rather decisively too.

First, Spark surpassing the world’s military in skill is far less impressive than it sounds when you remember that Freom’s invasion was the very first real combat scenario they had ever been in, and were woefully short of ready as a result.

As for the simulation, there are two massive flaws with the training Spark would’ve gotten from that. First, the simulation was looping Spark’s latest adventure constantly, meaning he wasn’t expanding his skillset to a wide range of abilities, but rather perfecting the same scenario again and again. Second, it likely wasn’t even that much training, as time within the simulation was noted to flow differently than time outside of it.

Conversely, not only did Lilac grow up as part of the Red Scarves, getting training and experience as thieves, but as part of her solo adventures she fought against and defeated Merga, who was genetically engineered to be the perfect warrior and trained to the utmost of her ability. And that’s before getting into the fact that she’s capable of winning with various handicaps, such as not having access to her shield from guarding, or completely losing access to her Stocks (and thus no precognition to fall back on), or defeating Merga in 6 minutes, or, yes, defeating her without taking a single hit.

That, coupled with the fact that Lilac has full on precognition in the form of her Stocks, meant that while Spark could whip out an immediate counter to anything Lilac could offer, Lilac could just work around whatever tool Spark is bringing out before he even has the idea to use it.

This all, of course, isn’t mentioning Lilac’s biggest advantages: she’s 23 times faster (after accounting for the 1.25 times speed boost from the speed potion, as all of the FP2 playable characters can react to each other even while one’s using this potion) and over a million times stronger. It’s outright impossible for Spark to overcome that – if he fired his beam at maximum power non-stop, it would match the amount of power Bakunawa outputted from one second’s worth of fire… after almost eighty years.

That’s such an extreme advantage that it’s impossible to tweak the numbers in such a way that it puts Spark in an even playing field (nor would I wish to tweak the stats in one’s favour regardless), and that meant he lacked a method to even knock out Lilac, while she could do so with any hit.

But how? His giant laser was so big that its size was compared to the moon, how could it be a million times weaker than the Bakunawa? Three words: gravitionational binding energy. Spark’s was merely comparable in size, while the Bakunawa was outright going to destroy it.

His his only real chance at victory was to excessively camp and let the fight come down to who’s stamina lasts the longest, but even if he were to somehow know that he could win this way, Lilac was just too fast for him to hold off forever, and she’d eventually be able to pull off a lucky hit despite the inferior aerial mobility.

Potential Arguments:

1. Wouldn’t Spark (or at least Super Spark) be able to scale to Super Fark (Spark 2)’s destruction of Hyperrath?

No. He can fight roughly on par with Fark’s standard form and can even fight Super Fark (Spark 1), but Super Fark (Spark 2) only fights against Freom Mk. Ultimate, and the stronger form that resembles Freom in Spark 3 was never confirmed to actually fight Spark.

Even if he did, there is no evidence Spark managed to match Fark’s power at all, Fark it clear he did not want to kill Spark both prior (ordering Flint not to kill him) and after (correcting Clarity’s assertion of his greatest regret being “not killing him [Spark]”), and when he fought against Linework Spark he was reverted back to his base form.

In addition, after defeating Linework Spark, Spark’s plan to defeat Clarity involved fusing with Fark on account of needing his power, while Fark was in said weakest form. There is no genuine scaling chain that brings Super Fark (Spark 2) to Spark himself.

But even if we did, Super Fark’s explosion only reaches 1.5863 petatons, falling short of Lilac’s destruction by a significant mile.

2. Can’t you consider Super Spark’s giant beam as a plasma blast?

Maybe. But we’re never given any information about the beam outside of what we see, and we don’t know that it isn’t a light speed laser (or some other type of energy) rather than a blast of pure plasma (especially given how rare green plasma actually is). Assuming it’s pure plasma when we do not know what it is would be incredibly generous to Spark.

And if the same generosity was applied to Lilac… Then Merga claimed Bakunawa was going to devour the moon for energy, and converting the entire moon would still be more powerful (72.4 zettatons vs. 473.6 ronnatons) regardless.

Results:

Lilac:

+ one hundred and forty million times stronger (140,054,346.438 times stronger to be precise)

+ 23 times faster (23.3195426927 times faster to be precise)

+ greater movement speed

+ more experience & skill

+ precognition allows her to work around whatever options Spark brings out

+ has metal shield

- less aerial mobility

+ better supply of energy…

- …but can’t replenish her energy without collecting crystals

Spark:

+ better range

+ better stamina

+ more flexibility & varied arsenal via Jester Powers

- nothing to get around the strength gap

+ has an answer for any possible tool Lilac brings to the table…

- …but Lilac’s precognition nullifies this advantage

+ Spark can destroy shields with a parry…

- …but he cannot parry Lilac’s attacks due to the strength gap

The winner is Sash Lilac.

Before I end this document, I’d like to personally thank everyone at GalaxyTrail and everyone at Feperd Games for making these wonderful games and these great characters for those games, I hope you both continue finding success, both with and without Freedom Planet & Spark the Electric Jester.

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