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sleekervae · 5 months ago

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The Bride [0.5]

Masterlist

A/N: I had a nice little push to get this next instalment out. Thanks again for all the support, I'm glad you guys are enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it!

Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader

Summary: Jesse returns to the ranch

Warnings: sad smut, angst, alcohol consumption, guns

Word Count: 4,987

Tag List: @poppyflower-22 @ponyslayer

Time was a luxury not enough people appreciated.

Billy and Eleanor still had a few days alone together, and they made the most of it that they could; chores in the house, exploring the land, Billy even taught Eleanor how to shoot a gun. She lamented that despite being Jesse's best mole, he still refused to get her a gun. Billy figured if she couldn't get one yet, the least he could do was show her how to use one properly.

And when the end of the day came, they'd spend their nights curled by the fire, or in bed, learning everything about each other both inside and out. Billy was quickly becoming enamoured with Eleanor, the dimples in her smile, how her brown eyes shone gold in the glow of the fire, her sharp sense of humour, the way her legs clamped around him with every shattering thrust he delivered her. Despite her lifestyle, Eleanor was stable for Billy, he became so comfortable around her very quickly.

But that, of course, was a problem.

A week's time was up soon enough, and while Billy was helping Eleanor draw up water from the well, they both turned when they heard horses thundering down the hill, following by the yips and whoops of the cowboys who rode them. Jesse and his gang had returned; and as the smile fell from Eleanor's face, Billy had a sinking feeling their paradise together was coming to an abrupt, unfortunate end.

The moment Jesse dismounted his horse, it was as though a switch flipped in Eleanor and she suddenly became aloof and sardonic all over again. Just as she had been when he found her in Silver City...

"My God, look-it what the cat dragged back," she sauntered over, her hands stuffed in her back pockets.

Jesse chuckled as he dismounted, "Thought you'd be happier to see me, Ellie,"

"I'm happy to see you alive, that counts for somethin'," she bypassed him to catch up with the rest of the gang. Billy meanwhile remained on the spot, curiosity and apprehension rippling down his spine as Jesse came over.

"Billy. You're alive,"

Billy smiled back, "Guess I am,"

"I've missed you," he grinned, his arm fell on his shoulder with a firm squeeze, "Thank God we found you," he then turned to his gang as the approached, still mounted on their horses, sweaty dirty, and beaten down under the sun.

"Fellas! This here is a very old friend of mine!" he then turned back to Billy, a glimmer of something prideful in his gaze, "Kid Antrim," none of his gang uttered a hello, barely any acknowledgement. Instead they simply looked at each other, perplexed perhaps that the last time they saw this kid he was within death's very grasp.

Jesse paid them no heed, "I hope Ellie's been taking good care of you," he said.

Billy's gaze drifted to Eleanor as she approached slowly, weaving between the horses. Her eyes, usually so expressive, were now cold and distant. Billy nodded, "She took care of me like a nurse. Couldn't have been kinder,"

There was no exaggeration in his words, no embellishment needed. But he caught something in her face, a flicker of an emotion he hadn't seen in her since they first met: a profound sadness.

There was a silent agreement between them not to speak of their... relationship. Not when he helped her hook up the horses, not when she started to fix up dinner, not when he offered to go chop her more firewood. It was suddenly as if they were complete strangers, polite to one another but the vigour within her, the passion and joy she'd exuded for so many days had dried up as quickly as water in the desert. Billy didn't have to ask why, he didn't want her to be in trouble with Jesse, nor did Eleanor want Jesse to give Billy any trouble.

That being said, Jesse Evans was not a stupid man. From the moment he returned, he could tell something was off with Eleanor. Her witticisms and fast tongue had dried up, she only showed a little bit of fire when she plucked John's hat off his head at the dinner table. Other than that, she seemed... different. Sad. And it wasn't often Jesse ever saw her sad -- or more he hardly cared to notice when she was.

She sat next to him at the dinner table, the boys already diving into the stew and bread she’d prepared. The well water was passed around, everyone’s glasses full. Billy was at the opposite end of the table, engaging in light-hearted banter with the boys as they peppered him with questions about his whereabouts, his adventures, and why Jesse was so adamant about having Billy join the Seven Rivers Gang.

Billy and Eleanor continued their lack of acknowledgment, only briefly meeting each other's gaze across the table. Billy's mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions, the warmth of the hearty stew doing little to quell the chill of uncertainty that gripped him. He could feel Eleanor's presence like a magnetic force, drawing his eyes to her even when he tried to focus on the conversation around him. Every laugh from the boys, every clink of cutlery, seemed to amplify the silence between them.

Eleanor, for her part, kept her eyes trained on her plate, but her thoughts were miles away. Her heart was a battlefield, torn between resentment and a lingering sense of connection she couldn’t quite shake. She remembered the times when they had shared stolen glances and secret smiles, but now those memories felt like they belonged to someone else, someone naïve and hopeful.

The boys dispersed soon after dinner was done, off to smoke their cigarettes or traipse around the property. Eleanor was left to clean the dishes, she was silent as ever as Jesse suddenly came in with a bottle of whiskey clenched in his hand.

"Care for some?" he asked, "Might take the edge off?"

"What edge would that be?" she asked, scrubbing hard at the caked on food in her pot.

Jesse came up beside her, placing the bottle on the table with a hard thud, "You've been outta' sorts, today," he noted.

Eleanor scoffed back, side-eyeing him skeptically, "Guess I was just enjoying my peace and quiet for too long," she replied simply.

Jesse cocked his head, leaning in closer, "You sure that's all it is?" he asked, "... Did Billy... he do anything to you while we were gone?"

Eleanor had to be careful not to react too quickly, "He's been helping me all week. Within reason of course. Poor guy slept for nearly two whole days," she moved her pot into the water bucket, rinsing the thin and greasy soap off the metal.

Jesse wanted to believe her, he wanted to believe her so badly. But he also remembered seeing her with Billy back in Silver City, talking more than two strangers should've been. And now it seemed she barely acknowledged him at all. So either something bad happened between them, or something else happened between them and she couldn't tell him about it.

A flame of resentment began to form in his gut, "I'm sure he's been the perfect house guest, right?" he asked, "Lifting the heavy shit, chopping the wood, doing the dishes with you... all the stuff I do for you,"

Eleanor rolled her eyes, "Jesse, you've never helped me wash the dishes. Don't lie to yourself,"

"I'm just making sure I don't have a problem festering in my fucking house," he grumbled back, his jaw tightening.

Eleanor knew all too well where his mind was circling, and how she wished he was actually as dumb as he looked. She turned to him, looking him dead in the eye, noting the slight waver in his stance, smelling the whiskey coming off him as though he'd been to the damn distillery himself.

"There's nothing happening between Billy and I, let that sink into your brain before you go getting yourself worked up over nothing," she never faltered in her own hard stare.

Jesse managed a smile, a chuckle rumbling in the back of his throat as he placed a finger under her chin, "Good," it was all Eleanor could do not to bat him away, "Because I wouldn't want to get his blood all over my floors,"

"You want to help me?" Eleanor huffed, pulling away from his touch, "Go get the linens off the clothes rack outside," she knew he wouldn't do it, but it at least gave him reason enough to leave her alone.

Eleanor threw down her rags into the wash bucket, her elbows settling on the counter as her face fell into her hands. The cold sheen of water on her fingers couldn't quell the noxious heat sizzling through her. Jesse had done it this time; he had really threatened to hurt Billy. Billy, whom he had regarded as a brother for so long. But maybe that was just how Jesse operated—everyone was expendable for the right price, even Billy.

Even Eleanor.

Her mind raced, heart pounding in her chest as the implications of Jesse’s threat settled over her like a heavy shroud. She tried to steady her breath, but the memory of Jesse’s cold, calculating eyes bore into her, making it impossible to think clearly.

She clenched her fists, the rags slipping through her fingers as she struggled to hold onto something—anything—that made sense. It wasn’t just the threat to Billy that stung; it was the realization that she, too, was a pawn in Jesse’s game. She had always known, on some level, that Jesse’s loyalty had its limits. But seeing it laid bare like this, seeing how easily he could turn on someone he once called family, was a brutal reminder of just how precarious her position was.

She was none the wiser to the audience of one just outside. Billy crouched in the shadows outside the kitchen window, his breath shallow, his heart a steady drumbeat in his chest. The night cloaked him in its inky embrace, the cool air nipping at his skin as he strained to hear the conversation inside. Jesse's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the stillness, making Billy's blood run cold.

His mind raced, torn between his loyalty to Jesse and his growing feelings for Eleanor. He hated the way Jesse treated her, the way he tried to control her with his jealousy and threats. But what could he do? If he confronted Jesse, it would only escalate things, put Eleanor in more danger.

He took a deep breath, his heart heavy with the weight of his internal conflict. He needed to find a way to protect Eleanor, to keep Jesse’s jealousy from tearing them all apart. But for now, all he could do was wait, and hope that he would find the strength to do what was right when the time came.

Eleanor felt around aimlessly across the floor, her only source of light a dimming lantern sitting off in the corner. Her fingers finally nudged against a solid surface, and with nimble nails she gripped the old shoe box and pulled it out from under her bed. She ripped the top off and found her stash of money, and as she counted she was relieved to still find the sum all there. Seventy-five dollars, it wasn't enough for her to branch out on her own just yet, but maybe one day...

She jumped however when she heard a soft knock at her door, moving quickly to shove the money back under her bed and get the door. She figured it might have been Jesse wanting to bust her chops again, or maybe even apologize for earlier. Hell, or it was John or Bill needing help getting to bed after drinking their weight in whiskey.

But instead, she found Billy. And he appeared sober as a nun.

Eleanor shook off her stunned silence, her racing heart slowing down, "You need somethin'?" she asked.

Billy simply shook his head, "Could we talk?" he asked quietly.

Eleanor huffed, glancing both ways down the hall before ushering him in, "Come on, come on," and she shut the door behind her.

Billy took a brief look around, her room was identical to his, minding the bed was actually made and she didn't have clothes hanging out of her dresser drawers.

"I didn't thank you for dinner," he said, turning on his heel towards her.

Eleanor simpered, "There's no need. But I'm glad you enjoyed it," she noted how antsy he seemed, he couldn't quite stand still, "Something wrong, Billy?"

Yeah, yeah you could say that. "I'm leaving, first thing in the morning," he said, "I figured I oughtta' tell you first,"

As much as it hurt Eleanor to hear those words, she couldn't blame him.

"Billy..." she approached him slowly, "You don't have to --"

"I know. But Jesse's in love with you," every word he spoke was like a fork through his tongue, a knife through her ears, "And as much as you may not wanna' hear it, we know what he's capable of. It's safer for both of us if I'm not here,"

Eleanor turned on her heel, her head hanging low. This was typical, how foolish could she have been to think that even for a second, she might get to actually be happy? How foolish could she be to ignore Jesse's flirting, his drunken whims and his outbursts? She always knew how Jesse felt about her, she also knew that sooner or later it may just kill either her or Billy.

Hell, it may even kill Jesse.

"Unless... you want to go with me?" Billy's voice cut through her thoughts, and she turned to look at him, surprised by the hope in his eyes. She remembered the pain in his expression when she had left before, the sense of loss that had lingered between them. Despite everything, he was offering her a way out, a chance to escape the turmoil that surrounded them.

It was tempting, so tempting. The idea of leaving it all behind, of starting fresh somewhere far away, was almost too much to resist. But running away didn't solve anything for her back then, because that was how she ended up here. And if she did run it wouldn't matter because Jesse would still be out there, his feelings unchanged, and she would only be delaying the inevitable.

"I would love to," she spoke softly, her voice wavering on a sob she was holding back, "But I can't. I can't keep running, Billy. The infantry is still after me, and if I go with you then not only do we have to worry about them, but we also have to worry about this," she gestured to the walls on either side of them, "The boys will be coming for me so fast we might not even see 'em coming,"

"But Eleanor --"

"You're fast Billy, but you're not that fast," every word she spoke was harsh, but she needed to be truthful. He was the only person she'd ever truly cared about, and if sacrificing herself was what was best for him then so be it.

Billy came upon her, cupping her face in her hands. His touch was such a stark contrast to Jesse's, warm and gentle, he didn't elicit a frigid chills within her.

"I love you," he spoke with purpose, his eyes never wavering, his tone solid, "I don't care where we go, I'd protect you across the plains with my bare hands if I had to,"

Funnily enough, Eleanor remembered Jesse something so similar to her when they'd met, "You don't love me, Billy," she replied bitterly, "You don't even know what that means,"

He scoffed softly, a bitter laugh escaping him, "Don't I? Do you really believe I haven't spent countless days thinking about you? Searching for you? You don't think I notice the gold in your eyes? How much I love hearing your voice? Even when you're upset, your voice is my favourite sound in the world," His voice was a mixture of pain and determination, his gaze locking onto hers with unwavering intensity.

“I love you, Eleanor Aubert. I love you more than I ever thought was possible,” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips. “And if loving you means I have to let you go, to keep you safe, then that’s what I’ll do. Because your safety, your happiness, mean more to me than anything else in this world.”

The weight of his words hung between them, heavy and real. Eleanor could see the truth in his eyes, feel the depth of his love in the way his voice faltered, barely holding it together. His confession wasn’t just words—it was a raw, vulnerable piece of his heart that he was laying at her feet.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he added softly, his voice almost breaking, “But I couldn’t leave without telling you.”

Her heart swelled, torn between the warmth of his love and the cold reality they faced. She wanted to imagine a future with him, but his words held a truth she couldn’t ignore: they couldn’t be together. It was safer if he left. Safer if they stayed apart.

Tears welled up, spilling over as her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. The ache of longing mixed with the bitter taste of reality, creating a storm of emotions that threatened to drown her. She wanted to hold him tight, beg him to stay, but she knew she couldn’t. She had to let him go—for his sake and hers.

“I don’t know if I love you, Billy. But I feel for you like I’ve never felt for any man,” she let out a shaky laugh, “In a world full of hicks, ruffians, and cowboys, you’re my gentleman.”

“A gentleman?” He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb along her jaw. His face was inches from hers, drawn closer by the gentle pull of her fingers at the nape of his neck. “Not sure I can agree with you on that one.”

“And I’m not exactly a lady, either,” she replied, her eyes drifting to his lips. She loved the way they curved, loved the way they felt against hers.

“I beg to differ,” he murmured, his gaze locked on hers. Her eyes glimmered in the soft light, the golden flecks catching the glow of the lantern. God, he loved her eyes. “Can I kiss you one last time?”

“Please do,”

Billy hesitated for just a heartbeat before leaning in, his lips meeting Eleanor’s in a soft, tentative kiss. The warmth of her skin, the softness of her breath mingling with his, made him exhale shakily against her mouth.

He pulled back, just enough to search her eyes, looking for any trace of doubt or discomfort. But all he found was the same warmth he felt, a softness that matched his own. Encouraged, he closed the distance between them again, his lips brushing against hers with a gentle, almost hesitant exploration.

Eleanor’s eyes fluttered shut as her hands rested lightly on his chest, feeling the heat of him radiate through his shirt. His touch was careful, his hands moving with a purpose that was somehow both deliberate and tender. The way he touched her, as if she were something precious, something he was afraid to break, sent a wave of emotions crashing over her.

With a quiet sigh, she pressed closer, deepening the kiss. Billy responded instantly, his hands cupping her face, his lips moving against hers with a new urgency. It was like a dance, a silent conversation between them, speaking in a language of desire and emotion that neither could fully put into words.

As the kiss grew more intense, so did the way they held each other. Billy’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her body tightly against his, the closeness sending a shiver down Eleanor’s spine. She responded in kind, her fingers threading through his hair as she lost herself in the moment, in the feeling of being wanted, of being loved.

Billy’s lips tasted of the crisp air after a rainstorm, with a faint hint of the alcohol he’d had earlier. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as they kissed, every movement filled with a longing that had simmered between them for too long.

When he broke the kiss, his gaze locked onto hers, and she could see the hunger in his eyes, a hunger that mirrored her own. She gave him a small nod, tilting her head back slightly, an invitation for him to explore further. His lips traveled down her neck, sending another shiver through her as he moved with a blend of urgency and reverence.

Sweeping her off her feet, quite literally, Billy carried Eleanor towards the bed. A stumble over a pile of clothes was quickly dismissed as he was focused on one thing only - getting to the bed with her in his arms.

He gently placed her on the edge of the bed before removing his shirt, revealing a chest that rose and fell with anticipation. Kneeling in front of her, he was like a man on a mission, eager to please but unsure of himself.

Eleanor, sensing his uncertainty, reassured him with a tender touch, her hands cupping his cheeks as she told him it was okay not to know everything. With a soft smile, she invited him to lay down beside her, and he eagerly accepted, his muscles tensing slightly as he adjusted to the new position.

As they lay entwined in each other's arms, Billy's hands began to gently explore Eleanor's body. Clothes came off and were tossed carelessly across the floor. His fingers traced the curve of her waist, sending shivers through her. Eleanor closed her eyes, allowing herself to be carried away by the sweetness of their lovemaking, but also the looming sadness of his departure.

With a hesitant yet confident touch, Billy's hands moved to the delicate skin of Eleanor's inner thigh. Her eyes fluttered open, a mixture of desire and sadness filling her gaze. She nodded, reassuring him with a soft smile, knowing that they had to cherish this moment, even if it was fleeting.

Billy's fingers continued to trace the lines of her body, gently teasing the sensitive skin along her stomach and pinching her nipples. Eleanor felt a rush of anticipation, knowing that this was a moment she would treasure forever. Her breath hitched as his fingers delicately brushed against the sensitive skin between her legs, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Billy's confidence grew, allowing him to explore her with a gentleness that bordered on reverence. He traced the shape of her folds, careful not to rush, knowing that every touch was a precious part of this stolen moment.

Billy's eyes locked with Eleanor's, their emotions and desires mirrored in each other's gaze. He slowly removed his own pants, his erection standing at attention, a testament to the passion that now consumed them.

Eleanor's eyes locked onto his, the dark depths of his irises captivating her as he continued his exploration. Her breathing hitched with each gentle caress, her body responding to the tender touch. With a trembling hand, she reached out and guided him closer, the head of his erection sliding so deliciously through her.

As the intensity of their passion grew, so too did the sadness that hung over them like a shroud. They each knew that this was not just a fleeting moment, but an entire chapter of their lives that would be forever etched in their hearts.

Eleanor's soft moan seemed to jolt Billy back to reality, his eyes widening as he realized the effect his touch was having on her. He hesitated for a moment, but the desire in her gaze was undeniable. Nervously, he continued to explore, he knew she was trying so hard to keep quiet. They didn't want to alert anyone else in the house. This was their dirty little secret, their sanctuary in a wasteland. But fuck, he felt so damn good...

Eleanor gasped as his fingers wandered further, his touch gentle yet firm as he drew circles around her clit, pushing into her slowly. She arched her back slightly, her breath catching in her throat as a wave of pleasure washed over her. Billy watched her intently, his own desire building with every touch.

As he continued to caress her, Eleanor found herself lost in the sensation of his hands on her skin, feeling as if she was melting into him. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, her nails raking down his back so hard he knew there would be marks in the morning.

As they moved together, Billy's touch became more assertive, his circles were tighter, faster, his thrusts sharp against that spot within her muscle. Her breath hitched at the simultaneous stimulation, her body responding to his every touch. The emotions were raw, the intimacy profound, and the connection between them had never felt so strong.

In that moment, time seemed to slow, and the world around them faded away.

The intensity of their passion seemed to consume them, their bodies writhing together as they moved in sync. Eleanor bit back her lustful cries, her body trembling as she reached the peak of her pleasure. Billy's eyes never left hers, his own expression a mix of awe and sheer desire.

As the wave of pleasure washed over Eleanor, she felt as if she was floating, weightless, her body was overtaken by a warm glow flooding down her spine and to the rest of her limbs. Billy watched her, his eyes filled with a mixture of wonder and desire. He wanted to capture this moment forever, to hold onto the memory of her face as she experienced something so intimate and raw.

With a final, throbbing thrust, Billy reached his peak. He surged forward, his body unable to resist the pull of Eleanor's. Their lips met in a passionate, desperate kiss, as their bodies merged into a single, quivering whole.

As the intensity of their climax reached its peak, Eleanor felt as if she was being lifted by some unseen force, soaring through the heavens and beyond. Billy, too, was lost in the ecstasy, his entire being consumed by the desire that had been building for so long.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still. Their hearts raced in unison, their breaths mingling in a single, continuous moan. The world around them faded away, replaced by the intensity of their passion.

As they lay there, still entwined, their bodies glistening with sweat, they knew that they had shared something truly special. A connection that could never be broken, a love that would last a lifetime, or perhaps even beyond.

But as the moment faded, reality began to intrude. The sadness that had been lurking in the corners of their minds returned, a harsh reminder of the inevitable parting that awaited them. They knew that this stolen moment of passion would only serve as a fleeting memory, a glimpse of the love that could have been.

Eleanor traced the lines of Billy's face with her fingers, committing every detail to memory. She knew that this would be the last time they would be together like this, it would be the last time for a long time...

Billy was gone the next day.

When Billy told Jesse he couldn't stay, it didn't take much for Jesse to put two and two together. His voice was edged with a hint of resentment as he asked, "Was she worth it?"

Billy hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on him. He didn't want to put Eleanor in any more of an awkward position. Finally, he simply replied, "Take care of her. She's a good woman,"

Eleanor couldn't let Billy leave without some provisions, regardless of Jesse's feelings. She packed him some bread, nuts, and jam—just enough to get him by until he reached his next destination.

As Billy was about to leave, Eleanor wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. Billy wanted to kiss her so badly, but he restrained himself, knowing it wasn't the right time.

"I'll see you again," he whispered in her ear, "Promise I'll come find you, one day,"

Eleanor wanted to believe him, but she knew better than to trust the promises of men on the frontier, "Good luck, Billy," she replied softly.

He mounted his horse and was off, traversing the plains with ease. Eleanor turned back towards the house, her heart sinking as she saw Jesse saunter out with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a shotgun in the other.

"Jesse—don't." It wasn’t so much a plea as it was a firm warning, like a parent cautioning their child against doing something reckless.

Jesse's nostrils flared angrily. He dropped the bottle on the porch chair and brought the shotgun up, taking aim. He could take Billy down with a single shot, and they both knew it.

"And why shouldn't I?" he spat venomously.

Tears brimmed in her eyes, but Eleanor simply shook her head and placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "Because you love him," she replied softly. "As much as you want to deny it—I know."

He wouldn't have dragged Billy back from purgatory itself if he didn't care about him. After all, how many times had he regarded Billy as his own brother? And as angry and resentful as Jesse was, he knew Eleanor was right.

Without another word, Jesse dropped the shotgun, shaking Eleanor's hand away. He stormed back into the house, the door slamming hard behind him. Eleanor, meanwhile, sank onto the porch steps, her head falling into her hands as her tears began to stream down her cheeks.

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followthebluebell · 1 year ago

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hii this is kind of a weird cat question but google is not helping me very much, is it like. normal/common for kittens to just sorta refuse to wean for a long while? like they're not suckling all the time but kinda frequently

for some context we took in a feral/stray cat, massively skinny so we were happy when she started putting on some weight. she was in fact full of two whole baby. the kittens are i thiink seven months old now? they've been altered and im pretty sure ma's milk is dry by now but they don't seem to care about that fact + she's still occasionally letting them suckle?

unfortunately all the cats ive ever had were much older so i have next to no frame of reference for what's "yeah cats just do that when they're young" and "yeeah thats probably something deeper to be worried about" 😅

It really varies from cat to cat. It's mostly up to the mothers whether or not she'll let them continue to suckle. I've seen some mothers cut their babies off sharp at three weeks old, while others let them continue for MONTHS. It's not really dangerous for them to keep nursing (except for like. the risk of chafed nipples or something?). Past 6 weeks, it's mostly for comfort rather than food since mothers are usually dry by then.

It's weird from our perspective, but cats are cats. I usually just let them do their own thing. They know what they're doing, I figure. If it annoys/bothers the mom enough, she'll let them know.

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drymushroomfics · 6 months ago

Text

Fraye Hill of House Lannister

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Chapter Six

"There you are, Fraye. I've looked all over for you.", she hears.

Fraye turns to find Ser Jamie smiling down at her. She walks over, allowing him to hug her.

"Where have you been? I haven't seen you in days?!", she asks.

"Official knight business, dear. Why are you hiding away?", he asks.

"I just needed to think for a while.", she tells him.

"Is something the matter?", he asks, holding her shoulders so she can look at him.

"No... A little. I am just a little confused. That's all."

"About what?"

"My name day."

"My father always gets what he wants. I don't even want you to marry if I must be truthful... You're smart and you'd do great in the kingsguard one day. You could be the first woman knight, Fraye."

She smiles, "I would love that but your father refuses to let me wield a sword."

"Good think I taught you in secret... I have something for you."

She raises an eye brow when he pulls a dagger from his belt.

"It's yours.", he smiles.

She takes the dagger in her hand. The sharp silver, detailed with swirls. There's gold detail on the handle with an amethyst gem adorning the middle.

"This is beautiful!", she smiles, hugging him.

"I knew you'd love it. Keep it safe, Fraye. You never know when you might need it."

She nods with a grin.

"Really. This is the best gift I've ever received."

"I figured a dagger would suit better than a sword. You are fast and sly like a cat in battle."

"Still think you can beat me?", she asks, raising a brow.

He moves back drawing his sword.

"Bring it on, Hill."

She holds her dagger, parting her legs and waiting to strike. He starts to swing his sword and she dodges every blow. She laughs as her dagger touches his sword arm.

"How are you so quick?", he laughs, proudly.

"I don't know. I just am."

"You are going to give the man you wed, a hell of a time.", he laughs.

"Yes. But I will not marry someone who believes pretty little ladies have no brains."

"Well, my dear, that will prove difficult but you'll manage."

"I always do, ser."

••••••◇•○•○•♡•○•○•◇••••••

Later that evening. Fraye sits in the library, reading about the history of daggers and those who mastered the weapon.

Fraye sighs, turning the page on her book. She can feel her nerves rising with each passing day. She has less than a fortnight to choose a husband. She doesn't want to marry. She finds it ridiculous that she must.

Her thoughts linger to the hound. All she can think about is him. They way he looks at her. The way he calls her kitten. Something about his tone when he says it, goes straight between her legs. She didn't expect to feel this type of attraction to him but it's growing every day.

She's pulled out of her thoughts by Tyrion Lannister.

"I figured i'd find your here, Fraye.", he smiles, taking the seat across from her.

"No one ever comes in this library. It keeps me from unwanted encounters."

"Well, I'm sorry to impose."

"Well you are one of few that ever feel that way."

"You are the smartest man I know, Tyrion. Your company is one of few I can enjoy."

"Well, I am honored Fraye, truly."

He looks into her eyes, noticing dark circles forming.

"You seem troubled.", he tells her.

"I'm to find a husband soon."

"Yes, I'm sure Joffrey has your best interests in mind for the right husband. no doubt you'll need his say-so on who you choose.". he says with sarcasm.

"I'm not sure what to do Tyrion."

"Have you taken an interest in anyone?"

"... One person.. sort of."

"Pray tell who, my dear."

"I can't... He may not reciprocate. I would never force."

"You could never force. All of the knights and lords have been after you since your sixteenth name day."

"I just can't say, Tyrion."

"Well, what do you find so intruiging about this man, then?"

"There's just something about him. I can't get him out of my thoughts."

"As he done anything to you? Made advances?"

"None. He seems to be avoiding me actually. Trying to scare me off I think."

"I don't think you should consider him, Fraye. Any man would be lucky to wed you. I don't think he could be in his right mind to turn you down."

"I think he may be scared of me."

"I can not tell you what to do. But I promise that in the next week, if you haven't chosen, I will send Ravens for suitors. They will be invited to your name day and you can choose any of them. I know that Joffrey will choose someone awful if it is left to him."

"Thank you Tyrion. You have always been someone I can count on."

Tyrion touches herhand with a smile, "You are a smart girl. I know you will follow your heart."

As he walks out of the library, Fraye feels conflicted. Should she even consider the hound? She knows he wouldn't be a loving and understanding husband. But, she is running out of time and she knows she'd prefer him over some random lord or knight whom she doesn't know at all. Plus. She knows he would pay no mind to her knack for fighting. She even thinks he'd prefer it.

She sets down her book, deciding to go back to her room before she has to speak to anyone else. As if it was fate, Sandor happens to be standing near.

"Hello Ser Clegane.", she nods.

"I'm no ser.", he replies.

"You are to me."

She looks up at him, wondering if he really does find her dreadful.

When he looks back at her, she sees that he looks quite tired. As if something is worrying him.

"Are you alright?", she asks.

"Will you stop asking me how I am."

"Not a chance. So?... Are you?"

"I'm just fine m'lady... Are you alright?"

She smiles, thinking maybe he does care a little. Sandor suprised his own self by asking. But, considering he heard her conversation with Tyrion, he knows she's not happy and it's partially his fault.

"I could be worse, I guess. Finding a husband is worrysome. The knights wanting to be between my legs, as you put it, only worries me more, in fact."

"You'll be alright, little kitten.", he replies.

She smiles at him, feeling her chest tighten a little.

"Thank you Sandor. I must bid you farewell, I'm afraid. But, really... Thank you."

He wants to pull away but doesn't when she touches his hand as a thank you. His face turns a darker shade of red. She nods her head, before walking away. She leaves Sandor, dumbfounded and blushing. She can feel her plan working and she couldn't be happier about it.

#fanfic #fanfiction #game of thrones #sandor clegane #ofc #the hound #sandor clegane x original female character #tyrion lannister #secret love #jamie lannister #pining #secret wanting #conflicting feelings #sandor #sandor x ofc #heart to heart #mixed feelings #feelings shining through

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scarletlight-has-issues · 11 months ago

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The Vampire's Thrall

Rating: Mature Characters: The Empress, Simon Petrikov, Random unnamed humans Words: 2,327 Trigger warnings: Partial mind-control, blood, self-harm, dehumanization, canon-typical madness and memory loss, canon-atypical violence, major power imbalance, forced kiss, toxic relationships, hurt no comfort, implied noncon if you squint

Summary: A short window into Simon's life while under The Empress' control.

Notes: So I've been completely obsessed with the idea of The Empress and Simon's history since that one stakes episode where they mentioned it and then never brought it up again so I wrote this in a sleep-deprived haze of hyperfixated mania.

Although not explicit, there are some fucked up themes in this, so beware! Don't like, don't read.

Ice ki- no. No, that wasn’t right, it was… it was Simon, right? Yeah. Simon hissed as he cradled the injury he’d sustained. The humans he’d been tasked with capturing had escaped. Truth be told, he hadn’t really been trying, but one of them had still managed to graze his shoulder with a sharp handheld dagger. He could’ve used the magic that soothed and whispered to him constantly, begging him with a temptress’ voice to give in to the power of frost, but, as he’d said, he hadn’t really been trying.

He’d been firm in his goal when he’d set out, just as bloodthirsty and determined as his haughty mistress, but somewhere along the way he’d gotten… lost, confused. So much seemed lost and confused recently, what with that damn whispering. It had been that little girl, hadn’t it? He’d seen a little girl among the refugees fleeing his freezing conquest, her head covering stylized like a black cat. She’d tripped and fallen, scraping her knee bloody. Simon suddenly froze, something snapping inside him. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d surged forward, a sudden pang of… of something welling up in his chest.

The people around him shrieked and fled, tripping over themselves to escape the Ice King’s descent. The little girl screamed and cried in terror, fat globs of tears creating tracks in the grime on her red-flushed face, blood staining the torn green slacks she wore. Unfamiliar words slipped easily past his lips as if they were a song he knew by heart, dropping to his knees in front of her. Are you alright?’s and Here, let me see-’s repeated over and over like a mantra. He’d reached a clawed blue hand forward, to do what he didn’t know, when a wild scream shattered his trance. Pain erupted across his arm as he just barely managed to jerk to the side in time to avoid the blade hitting his throat.

A woman stood in front of him, her chest heaving, a dagger clutched in her hand.

Mama bear.

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU DEMON-SYMPATHIZING WIZARD!” She cried. She lunged again, swinging wildly, but Simon had anticipated her strike this time. He blocked it with an icicle summoned quickly to hand, the whispers singing their delight. Without another word, the woman scooped up her daughter and ran after the rest of her settlement.

He dispersed the icicle with a flick of his wrist, dissolving it into a shower of snow in an instant. Something in Simon’s mind screamed to give chase, to follow orders, but something louder and implacable drowned it out. And so he sat, struggling to process what had just happened.

His head hurt, and he screwed his eyes shut to try and block out the conflicting voices. The crown was heavy on his head. He sucked in a breath, held it, and took it off. The whispers reached a level that most would consider screaming, and his hands shook as he gripped the cold metal in his fingers. With a disproportionate amount of effort, he managed to set the thing down in his lap. He let out the breath he’d been holding, tension leeching from his shoulders as his head tilted up towards the treetops above.

Good glob above, what was he going to tell his mistress?

***

Back at The Hive, Simon just barely managed to bite back a hiss of pain as he was forced to his knees in front of The Empress’s throne. The vampire slowly removed the heel of her boot from the small of her thrall’s back. She stalked around him, sapphire eyes scanning his pathetic, groveling form from behind the black curtain of her hair.

“So you’ve failed me again, henchman.” She hissed, lips pulling back in a snarl of displeasure. Her heels clicked on the hard floor and Simon peered over the tops of his cracked glasses to see her boots in front of him.

“I-I did…?” Simon asked weakly. God, his head hurt… His eyes traveled up her long black dress to settle on her face. “I-“

The Empress rolled her eyes, raising a boot and pressing it harshly against his scalp to force his face back to the ground. “Oh shut up.”

She huffed, rubbing at her temples. “Honestly, are trying to infuriate me? Because at this point I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.”

“I-I’ll do better next time!” Simon assured, though he didn’t know what exactly he was supposed to do better at. All he knew was that The Empress was displeased with him, and he couldn’t have that.

His feelings towards her were… confusing. It was as if they were balanced on a constantly shifting sliding scale. One minute he was head over heels for her, worshiping the very ground she walked and completely infatuated with her every move, the next he was terrified of her, eyes darting around to search for an escape route, an overwhelming feeling of being trapped overpowering every other conscious thought.

“I promise, darling!” Simon continued enthusiastically, clasping his hands and pleading. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it!”

“Sure you will.” The Empress replied dryly. She sighed, pacing back and forth as she muttered to herself, ignoring him for the time being. “You have an infuriating knack for breaking my control, even if you don’t seem to realize it… must be that unfortunate curse of yours…”

Simon watched her, encapsulated by her long strides as she walked back and forth.

“While not intentionally disobedient, you deviate from my orders when you encounter emotionally straining stimuli…” She sighed again, giving a small groan. “Golb… I hate getting my hands dirty, but it seems if I want you to be useful, I’ll have to accompany you to make sure you follow orders…”

“Th-that’s great! Maybe we can-“ Simon started, something inside him elated at the prospect of spending more time than he already did with The Empress.

“Silence. I’ve had enough of your blabbering for one day.” She interrupted, before tilting her head back and musing. “Ugh… I don’t feel like breaking into the storage, I’m in the mood for something fresh. And since you failed in your assignment, I think it’s only fair you serve me another way.”

Her gaze finally moved back to him, and the sliding scale tipped back in the other direction, feeling his hands start to shake. He didn’t want to be near her anymore. Now he wanted to run. The Empress saw this and smirked in amusement.

“Get up.” She ordered, and Simon felt his legs responding without him having consciously moved them. He straightened, swallowing hard as she stalked towards him. She paced around him and slowly dragged a finger from the edge of his shoulder to the back of his neck. He shivered involuntarily and felt his body going tense as she leaned in. Vampires weren’t known for their warmth, but since Simon was a wizard of ice and snow, her breath was still hot on the back of his neck in comparison, her hands warm against his freezing skin.

Simon felt the Empress’s arms snake around him from behind and something was pressed into his palm. He started, glancing down to see a familiar ornate dagger. He didn’t need instruction to know what to do with it. After only a moment’s hesitation, Simon tugged up his left sleeve to expose the scars lacing his forearm. He’d used the right last time, and it still needed time to heal. Sucking in a deep breath, he shut his eyes and pressed the blade against the inside of his wrist.

Simon bit down on his cry of pain, and the empress smiled her satisfaction. She licked her lips, slinking around her thrall to take hold of his arm.

“Good little pet.~” She taunted softly before lifting his forearm to her lips.

Simon shuddered at the feeling of her mouth on his wound. Having the blood sucked out of him was never a pleasant feeling, but he’d learned to handle it after the first few times. Still, he bit down on the inside of his cheek and his free hand grasped at the fabric of his trousers to avoid making a sound.

***

The Empress studied his face as she drank. He was such a fascinating character, the curse from that crown of his rendering him helpless and dependent in such a way that made it just too easy to manipulate the poor fool. She had half the mind to remove her spell entirely to test the theory that he’d still obey her without it, but no… the periods where his curse’s effects would lapse and he’d become frantic and hysterical were enough to tell her that the spell was still very necessary for his obedience.

Still, she mused, his varying states and moods were amusing to play with. Sure, he might be endearing and foolish when he acted like a lovesick puppy over her, but she found him much more entertaining like this. She could feel him trembling under her fingers, his pulse quickening with every movement she made. The smell of his fear was intoxicating, she just couldn’t get enough.

***

Simon felt The Empress’ hand snake its way from his waist up his chest and to the side of his neck, thumb pressed lightly against his throat. He struggled to control his breathing. Her lips detached from his arm once she was satisfied, and he went tense as he felt her breath on his neck again, the feeling of her fangs pressed against his cold skin. He half expected her to bite him, despite her insistence that he was more valuable to her like this. The hand on his throat took hold of his bearded chin and forced his head in her direction. He barely had time to comprehend what was happening before her lips were on his.

The sensation was uncomfortable, her fangs sharp against the soft flesh of his mouth. He shuddered unpleasantly as he tasted his own blood on her tongue, coppery and metallic. Part of him felt he should be enjoying this, but most of him just felt surprised and sickened. This was wrong. He didn’t know why but everything about it was wrong. He couldn’t bring himself to push her away, no matter how much he wanted to.

The empress’s warm hand was clenched around his injured wrist, crimson oozing from between her fingers, streaming down his hand, and dripping off his clawed nails to the cold ground below. Her other hand was tangled in his beard, holding his head in place so he couldn’t pull away if he tried. Lightheadedness gave the whole thing a sickening, dreamlike quality, swaying ever so slightly as he stood. After what felt like an uncomfortable eternity to Simon, she released him and drew away. She wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth with an offhanded swipe of her thumb and Simon watched as she licked it clean again.

“Clean yourself up.” She ordered, turning away with a restored air of contempt. “Talk to The Moon if you can’t handle that cut of yours. I have more important things to attend to.”

“…Y-Yes, my empress.” Simon managed to stutter. He paused only a moment to pick his crown up off the ground where it had fallen earlier, before turning and hurrying away. The second he was out of his mistress’ sight, he slumped back against the wall of the hive. His hands were shaking badly, head tilted up towards the sky. He shouldn’t be so affected right now. This was far from the first time he’d experienced something like this. Hell, this was far from the worst thing The Empress had done to him. He dropped his head down and brought his hands up to meet it, his breaths turning sharp and gasping as he struggled to get a hold of himself. His head hurt. God, his head hurt. He couldn’t focus. The Empress was his master, he knew that. He lived to follow her orders, lived to serve her. So why did it feel so wrong? He shouldn’t be afraid of her, he shouldn’t want to run, his skin shouldn’t crawl at the thought of her hands on him. His clawed nails dug into his scalp, tangling in his snow-white hair. Something was wrong. Something was so incredibly wrong and he couldn’t place it, couldn’t seem to figure it out, couldn’t remember-

He only realized he was crying when he felt the wetness against his bloodstained palms. Something was tightening inside his chest, curling like a spring ready to snap under the pressure. It was too much, he couldn’t breathe- His eyes darted around wildly, searching for something, anything. Help, an escape, a friendly face, a way out, anything.

They landed on the crown at his feet.

Clawed blue hands grasped towards it, fumbling the cold metal between white-knuckled fingers. The whispers came back, soothing, comforting in their gentle melodious voice. He needed it. He needed it. Tears rolled down a face contorted in a forced grin as a hysterical laugh slipped from between trembling lips. He pushed the crown back into its rightful place atop his skull, and a sound halfway between a gasp and a sigh pushed out of his throat. The whispers sang in delight, the secrets of ice and snow wrapping him once again in their cold, comforting embrace. The tension leeched from his body, relief washing over him as he sank back into the comfortable arms of madness.

He reached a hand up to touch his face, momentarily puzzled when it came away wet. The liquid quickly froze into tiny, intricate crystals of ice on his fingertips. Had he been crying? Weird. He shrugged it off, smiling and humming to himself as he pushed himself up again. Whatever it had been didn’t matter now. He had to make himself presentable if he wanted to please his mistress.

#simon petrikov #the empress #adventure time #at #fanfic #fantiction #my stuff #scarlet speaks #scarlet writes apparently #ice king #beardy simon #I spent so long on this TvT

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dawngen · 1 year ago

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Eagleburn did not need his vision to feel sharp eyes upon him, studying him with a vicious scrutiny he knew was deserved.

"I know what you've done."

Calmly, the deputy tilted his head to address the pointed hiss. "I don't know what you mean, Bayspots."

He'd sensed her earlier watching him, ever since he, Brightstorm, and Suntuft had brought the kits back to camp. Initially, he had thought of entering the nursery, hoping to have a private moment to speak properly to Brightstorm. Bayspots's presence swiftly changed his mind, and her intense approach justified his changed mind. Hostility rolled off of her in hot waves, enough to warm the cool leaf-fall air. His ears twitched, otherwise appearing unperturbed.

"I'm not stupid, Eagleburn," Bayspots spat. Her voice was kept low enough for none of the other cats to hear, but judging by the sound of her fluffed tail's harsh lashing whistling through the air, Eagleburn imagined their clanmates would notice her displeasure, "I've seen you and Brightstorm, and now you mysteriously bring back kits?"

Whether or not her verbal blows land, Eagleburn doesn't show it. He merely nodded, and motioned with his tail.

"Let's discuss this outside of camp."

Without leaves on their branches, the light split through the trees easier. Under the midday leaf-fall sun, far from camp, Eagleburn and Bayspots faced one another. Even after the long walk out of camp, Bayspots's anger had yet to exhaust, and if anything, she was especially furious.

"Why in the name of StarClan did we need to go out this far just to talk?"

"Because you're right. Those kits are as much Brightstorm's as they are mine."

The silence was deafening. Eagleburn heard the hitch in Bayspots's breathing, the faint sound of her claws clenching into the soil below her paws. Steady as ever, Eagleburn remained stalwart, unmoved.

"How dare you." Bayspots broke the silence, her voice lifting high. Birds in nearby trees took flight in panic at the sharp rise of her howl. "I always knew you and Brightstorm had something going on--"

Her voice hitched, emotions flooding.

"Ever since our first litter... I've seen how she's looked at you when we've been together. I have been nothing but a good mate, I have treated her well, and yet she had the audacity--"

"I crossed a boundary," Eagleburn admitted, head bowing. "I should have known better. Brightstorm had begun coming to me as you grew colder to her--and while I understand your insecurity, why didn't you talk to her? She adores you still."

Bayspots bristled.

"I don't owe an explanation of our relationship to you," she hissed. Hackles lifting, tail beginning to enter a harsh lash, she bared teeth that Eagleburn could not see. "Maybe she should've looked inward first if she's going to complain about me."

A moment of silence passed, and Bayspots looked at Eagleburn with an expression of frustrated confusion.

"Is this it? Did you drag me out here just to rub this all in my face? I won't let you get away with it. You and Brightstorm both will face not only the judgment of our clan, but StarClan. This won't stay a secret."

Quietly, Eagleburn nodded in understanding.

"I know," he agreed, to Bayspots's bewilderment. "That's why I brought you out here."

Silent, Bayspots didn't know how to answer, so Eagleburn continued, rising to his paws from where he sat.

"If I frame it right, that you were a cruel and unforgiving mate to Brightstorm, the clan may forgive her when enough time has passed. Especially when you took me deep into the woods, when everyone could smell your fury, to make an attempt on my life."

Stunned, Bayspots gaped. Eagleburn could sense her disbelief, heard the subtle shift of leaf-litter beneath her paws as she slid back a pawstep. It was followed by a step forward of his own, confident and unwavering as the pair of blind, scarred eyes that bore her down. In their foggy reflection, Bayspots could see her own expression, and how terror slowly replaced anger.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, voice suddenly smaller, and Eagleburn took another step.

"Your sacrifice will make way for a new life for not only my kits, but for Brightstorm as well. I'll make sure to pray to StarClan for you to be taken care of."

In the reflection of blind eyes, the last thing Bayspots saw of herself was her mouth opening in a yowl that never came.

#warrior cats #warriors #clangen #eagleburn #bayspots

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i-cant-stop-fandoming-help · 5 months ago

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Warrior Cats AU characters; Blazepool/Kokoro

Sadly, it seems like the picrew i previously used(Felidaze's cool cat creator) was taken down.

I used that Picrew mainly because I Cannot Draw Cats for the life of me, and because of art burnout, but I will either find another or being using the character creator on Roblox's Warrior Cats Ultimate Edition to show character designs from here on out. (if you play that, you can often find me in-game playing as the AU characters. Flufftuft, Owlclaw, and Waterberry are my most common ones, although I also have moonchaser, strikeclaw, darkthorn, coalboulder, splashstorm, dawnheart, deadheart, and memorysplash. I also have a fox morph "Yap" and two ocs, Sparrowfall and Leopardclaw/Leopard)

(Picrew; Skelo's Cat Maker . The artstyle is really cute! there was no social media listed in the... whatever its called, so I dont know what other place you could find Skelo)

"I feel a pain in my chest, having to give up my kit... But it's my clan or my kit, and my clan needs me more. Frostclaw, I understand you and your mate have recently lost all but one kit. Despite your grieving, I must ask you to take mine. I'm sure Darkkit will become a fine warrior with you as a parent."

"Blazepool, old friend, I do not understand how you can sacrifice a kit for your job. But yes, I will take her. What does Spiderheart think?"

"Spiderheart... That foolish tom left without a word, he didn't even know I was with kit. He left for the twoleg place, and there has been no sign from him since. I have no care what he may think."

"I see."

Name; Blazepool

Role: Medicine Cat

Clan: Skyclan

Apprentice: Splashstorm

Description; A solitary cat, this brown tabby is most known for her loyalty to her clan. Some believe that she only does her job because she has to, some believe she truly enjoys it. She is sharp-tongued and smart, and it often seems as though she can read minds with how fast she can tell why you are in her den.

Story Notes: While not originally planned for her to have too much story importance, this may change as I write. Spiderheart, her mate, is most obviously based on Sojiro Kurokawa. Her daughter, Darkthorn, is obviously based on Mikako.

Her parents were not clan cats. They were rogues whom left her for dead when she was four moons old-- putting themselves first when being chased by a fox instead of protecting their kit. If not for Cinderstorm and Crowstar, the Skyclan deputy and leader at the time, she surely would have died. She was taken back to Skyclan, and raised alongside Daisytail.

Design Notes: When making her design in the picrew, since I've only ever had rough ideas in my head, i started by exploring every option. the white chest/underbelly and muzzle felt most fitting for her character, alongside the darker fade to her upper back and forehead. And, of course, I made her a tabby since those are commonly found in canon warrior cats. I worry I made her look too much like the fandom designs for Leafpool(oh wow their names also both end in pool. maybe I should change it? hm.) and I'm wondering if I should maybe make some design changed. Fluffy brown tabby with yellow eyes whom is a med cat? hmmmmn... Jokes aside, I enjoy this design!

Other notes: While warrior cats is all fantasy-ish and stuff, with cats like Jayfeather, dovewing, and lionblaze having superpowers in canon, I've been trying to ground the AU somewhat more in reality. Due to this, I've been trying to figure out what to do with Kokoro, seeing as it doesn't seem that cats can have alexithymia. on the other hand, I don't want to erase it. aaaah im smacking myself with both hands.

I tried looking at one mental disorders and stuff that cats can have, and the most I was able to get was: FCD*(Feline Cognitive Disorder), Anxiety Disorders, and OCD(Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder).**

*Similar to Alzheimer's disease and commonly seen in elderly cats. Source; 21cats.org

**According to 21cats.org(Same as previous source), "Cats with OCD may engage in repetitive behaviors, such as excessive grooming and tail chasing."

#Kokoro mitsume #dra/sdra2 #danganronpa another #dra/sdra2 warrior cats au

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noblechaton · 7 months ago

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welcome to the official "Noble rambles about Final Fantasy VII Rebirth" post wherein I get annoying about this behemoth of an experience

don't intend to talk much about story stuff here - tho I got a lotta thoughts about it so that might get its own thing later - but consider this a spoiler warning all the same; for gameplay and some story stuff

so just like to set a baseline here I wanna say I think this is a generational game and the biggest leap in quality I've seen a series take from one game to the other since maybe KH1 to KH2 - it's still got the same bones, but they've been rearranged and adjusted to the point of near perfection in a lot of spaces and while gameplay does still carry some flaws - lock on is still miserable, I'd argue they basically ruined Aerith lol - it's so sharp and addictive that I actually popped it back in yesterday to do the superboss stuff (which I think speaks to just how good I feel this game is since that superboss stuff is a real gauntlet lmao)

just about every character - aside from Aerith - feels really fun to play once u get used to them and I'd also say that Aerith is still fun to play with but it took so long to get used to her that I basically stopped using her outright well before the last few chapters lmao. they changed some stuff with her that I simply don't agree with and while there's some cool things in place of what was removed or changed it's just sort of not enough - she takes too long to charge ATB and can't do much without it now so she's kind of useless without a strong support setup around her which made me go "Ehhh. I wanna play as the cat again" or "Sure but what if I was Yuffie instead". I think the biggest thing is they took away the ability to hold the button down for her attack and made that tempest instead, with triangle being given to a ward shift that while neat I just never really used

but again even if she's been kinda nerfed I'd say everyone is just. so much fun. Cloud's still the great all rounder he was in Remake but they fixed the problem where bigger, aerial based enemies were basically gods by giving him proper aerial combat himself. when I first got hit with the tutorial for this in the demo prior to release I could have stood up and clapped that's how badly I'd hoped they'd do something for him

Tifa's still a stagger machine and yet feels even more necessary now thanks to that and just how quick she can be - but then Yuffie's even faster and is borderline broken which honestly rules. Barret's a lil less heavy and that makes him a lot more fun to control - I loved how grounded the cast was in Remake, but that heft just wouldn't work in Rebirth so I'm glad it was adjusted

meanwhile Red XIII is pretty solid - I didn't love him being so dependent on Vengeance Mode but after I'd learned his kit a bit more I'd say he was one of the more fun characters to play as. Cait Sith is really the only other new character u actually get to play as in this one and I can see why some have derided him/his gameplay but I honestly thought he was just as fun to play as as Red or Tifa or anyone else really - save maybe Cloud, who still has just a bit of an edge over everyone else - and I really loved how they integrated the fortune telling, casino style gameplay into his kit

it all just sort of flows really well in Rebirth that even Aerith and those that might be a bit wonky like Cait or Red end up feeling good when ya get into the moment and such. synergy moves are largely a really cool addition - don't think united refocus needed to take up so many slots lol - and I wish there were even more of them. the sidebar synergy stuff is also neat but I slowly stopped using it over the ~100 hours I played as a lot of em were just kinda difficult to properly pull off in combat

beyond just the gameplay - which is flashier than ever and brimming with character and quality alike imo - the game's just. something else to me

the music goes absolutely nuts and if this isn't soundtrack of the year I have no idea what possibly will be. it's visually stunning, the vocal performances are incredible across the board - especially Barret, who cemented himself as one of my favorite Square characters of all time with this one (but then, so did most of the cast tbh). it's so much more grandiose and higher in scale than Remake that I'd grown worried prior to release

so like. in truth I haven't played OG FF7 to this point - I sorta know what happens in that game, up to a certain and very popular point at least, but Remake is a very sentimental game for me for a lot of reasons so while I grew ridiculously hyped for Rebirth I'd wondered if I'd feel the same about it as I ultimately did with Remake - where I felt the game was this stunning, satisfying experience that does almost everything as well as it could with this grounded atmosphere and well threaded narrative with a strong, snappy mix of action and turn based combat. if I could even hope for it to live up to what was one of my favorite games of last gen, and of all time at this point

Rebirth lived up to my hopes and then some. the atompshere isn't the same as Remake's, which I loved, but it feels like the perfect evolution from the narrow, grungy alleyways of Sector 7, the tighter corridors of Shinra's construction, into this sprawling yet not entirely overwhelming open world that's varied so well from place to place that each ends up fairly memorable long before u even get close to finishing it out, every zone feeling both so wide and yet manageable, brimming with character and side content

that does bring me to my main complaint with the game tho - the side content kind of fucking sucks LMAO

the open worlds are gorgeous and carry some incredible musical tracks - Gongaga's a huge favorite of mine - buuuuuuuuut the stuff u actually do in them never really changes and grows pretty dull a good zone or two before the ending. it's a lot of Ubisoft open world stuff - towers, combat challenges, etc., with some variety thrown in via the protorelics (superboss related collectibles) but that's kinda not enough. even the more unique stuff to this game - like the lifespring scanning and the summon crystals - grow really stale and I wish they'd alternated the content from zone to zone a bit more. I think I was in Cosmo Canyon when I realized there'd be another zone and I was actively sort of dreading it lmao, mostly since I was doing just about everything someone could on a first playthrough

and I guess that's kind of not a huge complaint tho since like. ya don't gotta do it lmao. it's side content - but I wish it'd been. y'know. more good. I also wish the minigames weren't largely ass.

box buster's back from Remake and it's actually pretty fun, chocobo racing is solid enough, but most of the rest of the stuff is rough in some way or another - often in the controls, like the g-bike and 3D brawler. even the coliseum tournament stuff largely suffers from the bad difficulty problems that have imo long plagued the industry at this point - there's a few that are just infuriating and poorly designed and I'm unsure why the minigames as a whole were so hellish. as if the testers did too well and now we the casual players must pay the price for their sins (also the final side quest is related to the minigames and as of the most recent patch is bugged so while I've completed it, I haven't actually finished it 🙃)

and honestly for a while I thought all that would hold the game back for me. it's optional, sure, but it also makes up a good chunk of the game, to the point where the game's almost overstuffed with things to do, but it's kind of all shit with a few exceptions - Queen's Blood is crazy btw that needs to be a mobile thing or a real game asap - so that's gotta be a knock on things, yeah? and it totally is, but like. as I made my way through the final dungeon of the game and into the ending, I realized that it just. didn't matter

which would lead me into the story if I were going in depth on it here. I might later but to keep it somewhat vague - I loved it, and felt the pacing, twists and turns all really enjoyable. another solid evolution from things in Remake, with an ending that I genuinely adore even if things are a bit cloudy (I've got my theories - again, perhaps elsewhere). when I say the last few hours of this game shifted my opinion - which was already quite high! - even higher, I mean it. I understand why some don't like the story or the ending in particular, but I love everything they did and set up here and I'm ridiculously excited to see what comes next given just how much they managed to do with this game - tho I will say, if ya ain't onboard with the Remake project by this point I don't know if the narrative will sell ya on it given that it, naturally, does more than Remake did which ik was uh. somewhat controversial. lol

but yeah. I purposefully didn't deep-dive on Rebirth before launch save watching a few trailers due to spoilers and such so I kind of had no idea just how big it was gonna be - and even then, I don't think I could have guessed at how absolutely and utterly stuffed with content this game is. it's the first game of this gen that feels like it earns the increased price tag to me, that's worth the asking price as it's so much bigger and enthralling, so much more than I'd anticipated

which kinda sums up my feelings on Rebirth. that it's this massive game that kept me hooked for days on end, that constantly surprised and satisfied me even as my playtime steadily rose

I really, really enjoyed my near 100 hour playthrough despite the odds and ends bc I feel this is a near immaculate supergame that delivered on almost everything I'd hoped for an then some. it isn't perfect, there's some rough edges, but it does so much so well that it's impossible for me to view it as anything but this generational title that's both ridiculously good at its various peaks and sets up the final game in this trilogy to be another all-timer

so yeah I kinda liked it

#final fantasy renoble #ff7r #ff7 rebirth #mild spoilers

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rinwellisathing · 8 months ago

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You're Awful, I Love You: Part 36

Enver Gortash/Trans Male Tiefling Durge

The carriage stopped and the group dispersed outside of Rivington to avoid unwanted attention. Gabraela escorted Jackal down along the beach to avoid being seen as much as possible, Tomi's form rippled, changing back into her riding clothes and Orin cracked her neck side to side, focusing a moment and transforming into handsome male elf with dark brown skin, sharp features, and jet black hair wearing riding clothes as well, walking alongside her as they made their way back to the city.

Before Sentry left the carriage, Gortash took his hand and stopped him. “I forgot to tell you, in a few days I've been invited by some benefactors to the theater, I want you to join me.” Sentry grinned. “I see, but I imagine I have to behave while I'm there, right? No material acquisitions?” “Well, if you can be discreet about it, I wouldn't deny you, my Dread Executioner. However, the dress code IS formal.” Enver replied, raising Sentry's hand to his lips. “So, will you join me?” “Sure, sounds fun.” Sentry nodded. “Besides, 'discreet' just means a chance to be creative with it.”

He realized the dress code meant he'd likely need to visit with Ffion again, and really he'd been putting off letting Wysp know about Malta for far too long at this point. He felt a bit guilty the beautiful clothes Ffion had initially given him were a bit worse for wear after being removed quickly for so many tumbles in bed, but then again if anyone could understand that, it would be her.

He kissed his lover farewell before making his way towards the town, going over in his head what exactly to say to Wysp about the whole Malta situation. 'Hey buddy, why's your cat mad at you?' or perhaps 'Wow, man, what did you say to Malta? He's been at my house a couple of weeks now I think.' Well, he would think of something that made sense. As he approached the building and opened the door, he noticed a distinct difference in the music. Weird. Usually Wysp played a set around this time. He approached the desk, fishing in his pocket for his money.

“Hey Mam'zell, it's been a bit. Are Ffion and Wysp around?” Sentry asked, pulling the small pouch of gold from his pocket and setting it on the counter. He didn't notice in his distraction the rather saddened look on the woman's face. “Oh dear, you haven't heard?” Mam'zell bit her lip and looked around a moment before leaning in to speak quietly to Sentry. Her expression was mournful as was her tone. “Wysp is dead, dear...His...his body turned up missing his head outside our door one morning a month or so ago.” Sentry's eyes widened. “What?!” He gasped, taken aback. No...if there had been a murder, he should know about it. “Who did it? Did they find out?” 'If it was one of mine, I'll skin them alive and hang them from my bed post....' he thought to himself, trying to control the pain. His body felt simultaneously numb and like it might explode at the same time. His friend, his confidant, the one person he knew who was just like him....gone. “No, I'm afraid not...Business as usual with this city. No one cares when it's one of us, you know.” Mam'zell lowered her head and frowned before breathing deeply and forcing her public face back to the fore. “However Ffion is in....and I know she'd love to see you, young man.” She moved to make change for Sentry's coin since Wysp was no longer available. “Please...keep it...for the cats, he'd have wanted them well cared for.” Sentry held up his hand in protest before turning to go to Ffion's quarters.

Sentry wasn't used to feeling upset about a death, not since Commander Mum had died. Evagria Ojeda had been the last death he'd mourned, every one since had been a celebration. His eyes burned with tears that wouldn't come, his stomach lurched with a gnawing, wrenching knot. He gripped the wall next to Ffion's door for support, stopping briefly to try and right himself before he would knock. The reaction felt so alien to him, like a part of him that had died with Commander Mum clawing and lapping at the tissue of his brain from the inside. He cursed under his breath and tried to shake it off. These things happened. People died all the time. How many people he killed were someone's closest, dearest friend? Why should he be special? Was father's plan not for everyone, even Sentry himself, to die when it was complete? Wysp had been saved the worst of it and Sentry was spared those stunning violet eyes gazing up at him in abject betrayal when the day came. Yes, that was it. Wysp never could have understood like Enver did. Whoever did this had done both Sentry and Wysp a favor...but then, why was he having so much trouble believing it?

With a heavy sigh, he knocked on Ffion's door. The moment she opened the door, the pulled him inside, enveloping him in those strong, wide, motherly arms and holding him close. “Oh sweet heart. I take it you heard about poor Wysp?” Sentry nodded, his expression numb and empty. Ffion squeezed him tight and led him over to sit down. Her robes today were black, still with an ample view of her heavy chest, but more plain than she'd ordinarily wear. This had hurt her as well, a month ago and still in mourning. “Yeah...Malta's been at my place I guess since it happened...I thought they had a falling out...fuck...” “You just cry if you have to, honey, let it all out. I know how close you two were.” Ffion offered a handkerchief to Sentry, sitting beside him and patting his arm reassuringly. “Or, if it's still too fresh a wound, we can talk about something else...take our minds off it. How's it going with that noble?” “Um...”Sentry shifted a bit, regaining himself and taking a deep breath. “Really well, actually...um...we...we've done so much together and...actually that's why I'm here, we're supposed to go to the theater with some other nobles..” Ffion managed a smile at that. “Oh, now that IS big. Usually they've kicked us lower city folk to the curb by now. A theater date comes right before the proposal. You'll need something special. I know how you prefer black, but you need some color, love.” It seemed the good news had done the trick and she was in far better spirits as she made her way to the wardrobe in the corner. “Speaking of different topics, of family, how're things with your son? I remember he was giving you some trouble. Do you want me to talk to him? Give him the old paladin lecture?” Sentry asked. “That boy, now I know some of the things you draw are downright scary, Sentry dear, but my boy...I just can't quite put my finger on it, there's something unsettling...” She thumbed through several colorful vests and overcoats. “See, when I look at your macabre art, there's a beauty to it. Like touching the darker bits of The Weave....When Dolor draws like that, though...it's cold, clinical.” She gave a small sigh. “I guess I COULD fool myself into thinking he wants to be a healer or a medic of some sort, but....”

“I know you probably don't want to pry, but if you want, I can try and find out what he's up to. You're like a second mum to me, Ffion, if there's anything I can do to help...” Sentry offered softly. “There now, don't worry about me, Sentry. You've got so much on your plate right now with your new man, this dreadful business with Wysp....I'll be fine, love. Don't you worry.” The dwarf reassured him as her hand brushed across a shimmering purple fabric. “Ah, there we are. It matches one of your eyes and it'll be quite becoming with the shade of your hair.” She pulled a tastefully embroidered purple and silver doublet from the closet along with a silken shirt in a darker shade of plum and a pair of fine aubergine breeches. “It's quite purple, isn't it?” Sentry gave a little smile. “I mean, not that it's a problem, I like purple.” Purple was the color faces turned when deprived of oxygen. Purple was the color of deep bruises when you landed a hit hard enough to rupture something. “Not only that, but really I do think it's your color, barring maybe a nice blueish green.” She shrugged, motioning for him to stand so she could help him try the clothing on. As Sentry stripped, Ffion's eyes moved over his body, naturally checking for anything out of the ordinary. She couldn't have some upper crust nobleman harming her young man, after all. Her eyes fell to the newest of Sentry's tattoos, the black hand. “That's new.” She remarked. “I remember the Ilmater hands, but this one....” Her fingers brushed against the rich black ink that now marked Sentry's skin. “Oh...uh...it's a sex thing.” Sentry blushed, explaining maybe a bit too quickly to be sure Ffion might believe him. She frowned a moment, seeming doubtful. The 'Elminster's Library' set wasn't just for show, Ffion was a smart woman no matter how many discounted her due to her pleasant attitude outside of work and what she did for a living. In the back of her mind, the symbol of Bane came to mind. But it also occurred to her how often young men toyed with symbols like these without realizing what they meant. Sentry was so happy and this man seemed to be treating him well. Yes, just a foolish kink. This is some smitten noble trying to be something out of a dirty novel. The cult of Bane was abolished years ago. She shook off her doubts and smile.

“I see. Well, far be it for me to judge.” She shrugged, helping him on with the clothing and standing back beside him to admire the appearance in the mirror. “There. He'll propose on the spot, my lad.”

Sentry grinned, he did look quite dashing in these clothes. Tall and handsome, his muscles lean enough to avoid straining the material, but toned enough to fill it out nicely. He certainly looked the part of a young noble attending the theater. “Thanks, Ffion.” “Any time, boy.” She beckoned him to her level and pulled him into a tight embrace. “You're such a good boy, Sentry. You deserve all the happiness in the world.” “And you're a good mom, Ffion. Your son should learn to see that.” Sentry replied, giving her a tight squeeze. “And if he doesn't? I'll fight him.” He grinned playfully, only half kidding. His brain flashed with images of a new sculpture 'The Ungrateful Son', that poxy little shit who caused his friend so much trouble nailed to a chair in a corner, cruel tongue cut out. “Now now, he's still my boy, sweetheart.” She chastised gently. “I don't want to see you two coming to blows.” “Yes, ma'am.” Sentry sighed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, also, before I forget, here! I found this while I was on business yesterday.” He fumbled around in his satchel and pulled out one of the tomes he and Sceleritas had stolen from Mephistar. “It's a true account from Netheril! Can you believe it? Since you're a wizard and all, I thought you might be interested.” Ffion's eyes widened as she accepted the old journal. “Sentry, sweetheart, this is.....” Most gifts the woman was given were meaningless trinkets, jewelry that could never add up to the simple ring she kept from her late husband, clothing she didn't care for when outside of work comfort was key, but this book was a wealth of knowledge. Rare, fascinating, something she would honestly enjoy. She gave Sentry another tight hug. “I won't ask where you got it, hardly my business after all, but thank you...thank you so much.” “Of course! A good mum needs to be treated like one. You should have nice gifts...ones you like.” Sentry gave a little smile as the embrace ended and he stood to leave. “Thank you, Ffion, after I lost Commander Mum...well...things would have been so much worse without you.”

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #oc #tiefling #durge #dark urge #writing #fanfic #lord enver gortash #enver gortash #gortash x durge #durgetash

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jorality · 9 months ago

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I need to play Poppy Playtime for myself cuz even with all the videos I've seen I'm still confused, BUT what if people who HAVE played the games are just as confused as me? So here are my spoiler filled thoughts.

Warning it's long but hopefully coherent.

First off, the thing that's been bothering me since chapter 2.

What the FUCK was Playtime Co.'s plan once Elliot died? Like it's been posited that Elliot wanted to immortalize a child he lost by putting their consciousness into a toy. Y'know, like a crazy person.

Like the idea was immortality, but did the toy company sell the meat toys to the public? Why were there so many of them? Who would want a toy that used to be a person?! Who signed off on that?

When it comes to PlayCo's overarching goal I just wanna understand what it was. They put people into the meat toys to save their lives, but did they sell the meat toys? Can someone just give me an answer? I need to know.

Then there's the frickin' civil war between Poppy and The Prototype. Several people have pointed out that CatNap, while terrifying, doesn't really do anything to you until his boss fight.

But, we also get told that he will stalk you throughout the chapter, and he does. Mans will be right behind you, or next to you in the shadows. It's a game of cat and mouse. Others have pointed out that Huggy also was more of a stalker who didn't bother you until the end, and Mommy was hands off too, but she was by far the most antagonistic of the three and I think that's because Huggy and CatNap were for sure followers of the Prototype while Mommy was her own faction who didn't care for Poppy or The Prototype.

I mean if we go by the idea that The Prototype just wants the PC to leave then why let Mommy ruin the PC's chances of getting on the train?Mommy was just chillin' in her area full of death traps.

Then there's the player character and how everyone knows they used to work there. The PC missed the Hour of Joy even though they were supposed to be at the factory. We don't know why they didn't come into work that day.

In the video 10 Things You Might Have Missed in Poppy Playtime Chapter 3 by Tericho on YouTube, Tericho points out that the CCTV footage the PC has been shown throughout the games has been tampered with. Meaning that the PC still hasn't been given the whole truth.

Which Tericho pointed out by showing footage of Kissy Missy being transported via the train only for there to be a sharp cut to PlayCo workers lying dead around her while she's perfectly still.

HOWEVER!

There is footage we the audience have been shown that Kissy Missy did in fact kill those people during the Hour of Joy.

So then, that brings back the age old question, should the Player Character trust Poppy?

Survey says No.

Kissy Missy and Poppy are allies, besties even.

Poppy makes it sound like the Hour of Joy was all the Prototype's doing. She says he's the one who put her in her case from Chapter 1. So then why would her bestie participate in the massacre? Why would Kissy have aligned herself with The Prototype even though her best friend was imprisoned by him?

At the end of Chapter 3 something happens to Kissy, presumably she gets attacked by the Prototype and what happens to big toys that the Prototype gets his umbrella skeleton hands on? ASSIMILATION!

But why?

Why are Poppy and the Prototype at odds? Is it simply because Poppy doesn't condone the Prototype's murderous habits? Every other toy was aligned with the Prototype. But what the hell does he want?

Poppy repeatedly says that she needs the PC's help to save lives. Whose lives? All the humans in the factory are dead, most of the meat toys are dead (especially the Bunzos) are we supposed to believe that The Prototype is going to be a threat to the outside world? Why? All the people who did him wrong are dead. I don't think The Prototype wants to bother the outside world, I think he wants PlayCo and everything about it to disappear.

But what does Poppy want? I've been turning it over in my head and while I can come up with a few motives for the Prototype such as revenge, solitude, maybe find a way to die. Poppy though? I mean if I were her I'd want to go home with the Player Character and leave the horror of PlayCo behind.

What is the beef between Poppy and The Prototype?

On one hand I want MOB to follow through on the prototype being the big bad he's been hyped up to be, but I also think there are a few ways this could go.

Okay hear me out. Here are some ways I think the saga could end.

(PC ending) The player character burns the factory to the ground after killing both The Prototype AND Poppy.

(The Prototype's ending) The PC finally comes face to face with The Prototype, and they recognize each other. "You didn't deserve this." the PC says looking up at what was once someone they cared for. The Prototype hands the PC a tape, it's a compilation of the truth, it's confessions from the scientists, it's Elliot Ludwig's last words. The public has to know, the factory has to be destroyed. "What about you?" the PC asks. The Prototype reaches out his um without the brella hand, the PC hands over Poppy, who is now motionless blood staining the back of her dress, her artificial spine severed. "We die with the building." The Prototype says Poppy is silently crying unable to speak. The PC leaves and we cut to the credits. It's a news broadcast detailing every crime committed, the death toll, the aftermath. There's a press conference and the PC is finally revealed to be Rich from that one tape in Chapter 3.

(Poppy's ending) The Prototype has been slain, but it feels wrong somehow. "You did it!" Poppy cheers as she walks over to The Prototype's convulsing body and she starts kicking it. "This is all your fault! I never wanted it to be this way! We could've done something good but you ruined it! All I wanted was a family! And you took that from me, TWICE! WAS IT WORTH IT? TELL ME!" Poppy's pathetic little kicks should seem comical, but she's screaming and crying. It's so uncomfortable. Soon the crying stops. Poppy takes deep breaths and turns to face the PC. "The threat is gone. Thank you for helping me stop him. Now there's just one more thing to do." The PC carries Poppy to a bank of computers and she types something and a secret elevator arrives, a small Cat-Bee toy sitting in the middle of it. "Is it over?" The little toy asks. "Yes Ollie, it's over." Poppy says. "Once I flip this switch the factory will self destruct." The PC picks up Ollie and gets in the elevator. Poppy flips the switch and the PC grabs her with the grabpack. They go home.

Those are just the ones that I came up with, I REALLY want to see what MOB comes up with. Because truly what is the end goal? What do Poppy and the Prototype want?????

And also, whom the fuck is Ollie? This lil guy came outta nowhere! (Well almost nowhere there's a chance we met them in the ARG in the form of a tape) but why? What is Ollie's purpose, other than to give MatPat heart palpitations?

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime theory

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gunpowder-gemini · 2 years ago

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What is Clementine's story? How did they meet Tennessee? What kind of person are they?

Ah hello!! Thanks so much for asking about her!! Clem's lived in my head for like, 13-14 years? ish? And this is the first I've EVER shared her with people so it's made me so emotional to see people like her!!! I saw this ask while I was getting ready for work this morning and screamed lmao <3

So here's the gal! She’s a Golden Tiger, which if you haven’t heard of I recommend looking up because they’re so pretty! I'll put all the infodump under a readmore because it's...A Lot 😅

Clementine's been with Sly and the gang since the orphanage days. She's the gang's reconnaissance and infiltration expert! She has these metal claws that let her climb pretty much any surface (lowkey stole that from the split canes you get in Sly 2 to climb the ice walls lmao). Basically, she's responsible for getting Sly or the others into wherever they need to be, keeping lookout and securing their escape route. Very much a support role, though she is of course a bit of a "cat burglar" in her own right. She's always got some smoke bombs and rope on hand to help get them out of sticky situations.

Personality-wise, she's cocky and flirty and shows affection by teasing. She's projects confidence in spades, though never so much to be egotistical.

Under it all, she's actually a huge softie. She's not great at showing it, but she loves deeply and fiercely. She's quick to get embarrassed when trying to be vulnerable or genuine with people, so she usually hides it under a sharp wit and sharper tongue. She's secretly worried of being seen as "too emotional" which many people associate with "weak." She shows love more through actions than words because of that.

She's fiercely protective of her gang, quick to get angry/defensive on their behalf. Despite the stealth she needs to have as the one doing the breaking part of breaking and entering, she's probably the quickest to resort to fighting after Murray. She's a hand-to-hand combat kinda gal, using her claws as her main weapon. She's not near the powerhouse Murray is though, and her willingness to fight is probably more reckless than helpful a lot of the time.

So, trying to explain everything with Tennessee is...complicated? Because I'm sorta coming up with a bit of a rewrite to fix.....most of that game lol. And of course, sticking Clem in because I can 😂. I suck at actually writing fics out, I've got a handful of scenes I like down but nothing connected quite yet. I'm actually debating posting more comics of it here as I figure shit out, and because art is more my specialty than writing 😅

But! To answer your question, she meets Tennessee when Sly's breaking him out of prison. She's their escape route once they get to the cliffs, getting them a route down that cliff to the paddle boat/raft thingy for a getaway (because honestly where did they paraglide to in that cutscene). I headcanon Kid as an incurable flirt/hoe (affectionate) same as Clem so he's like "howdy there pretty lady" and she's like "howdy yourself cowboy" and then they play flirt-chicken until suddenly they catch feelings and are like SHIT WAIT ABORT THIS WASN'T IN THE PLAN. And then they try to continue to play flirt-chicken while pretending they aren't pining because WE CAN'T LET ON THAT WE FEEL THINGS. Good times 😂

I'm gonna leave it there before I spoil a story I haven't even settled on yet 😂 Again thanks so much for asking about her, you've made my whole week!!!

#oc clementine #sly cooper #sly cooper oc #tennessee kid #tennessee kid cooper #tennessee kid x oc #sly cooper 4 #sly cooper thieves in time #my comic hit the top of the tag for sly cooper and I can't fucking believe it thank y'all so much #I got like 4 or 5 new followers and hello welcome I hope y'all know I would now die for you #askldjfsldjflas still internally screaming #my art

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theintrovertbean · 2 years ago

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Hi there! I hope you are having a good day/night! I guess it’s a bit of an odd request, but how do you think Nadia would fair with an mc who’s albino or has vitiligo? I haven’t seen any head canons of this with Nadia and it makes me a little sad truthfully. I just need some soft Nadia taking care of her love who’s just a tad bit different on the outside. 🥰

And by the way thank you for your writings of our queen Nadia. I can never get enough of this wonderful women and you and your work give me the fix I need of her.

Hi Anon! Thank you, I'm having a lovely night, especially with my cat napping right next to me. I hope you're having a wonderful day/night as well!

Idk why, but I thought I've done this request a while ago. Turns out, I didn't 💀 I'm sorry about that.

But anyway! I don't know much about vitiligo, so I had to do some research, and I think that Nadia would take really good care of MC. I mean, that's kinda obvious. Nadia is amazing and the most caring woman ever.

Thanks for the request! I hope that you will enjoy it!

And well, there is no need to thank me because I'm more than happy to write about Nadia! I just wish I had more free time and energy so that I could post more often.

Nadia with an MC who has vitiligo

We are talking about vitiligo, but no matter what kind of condition(s) MC has, Nadia always does her research. She goes to the library and consults with a few doctors because she personally wants to ensure that MC is alright.

Whether MC has vitiligo or not, Nadia often reminds them to apply sunscreen. However, if MC does have vitiligo, Nadia is even more strict about using sunscreen, and she is more than happy to take the matter into her own hands. For example, when getting ready in the morning, Nadia applies it to MC's skin. MC never complains. Only a complete fool would.

Nadia has countless outfits tailored for MC that protect their skin from the sun. And hats. Stylish, fancy hats that go incredibly well with their beautiful outfits.

When they have to go somewhere, and they are about to exit the carriage, Nadia puts sunscreen on MC's face, which is the sweetest thing ever. She might even fix their hat for them once in a while, followed by a cheek kiss.

By the order of the Countess, the kitchen has to prepare healthy, nutritious meals for MC every single day.

The palace had to undergo a slight renovation which mainly included replacing the furniture and moving a few things. Nadia wanted to make sure that MC's skin never got hurt, so she got rid of everything that could potentially harm them. Since then, all the tables have been round in the Vesuvian Palace. No sharp edges.

MC is not allowed in the kitchen because Nadia doesn't want them to burn themselves. However, mommy Nadi's mind can be quickly changed by MC saying "please" and batting their eyelashes.

At the end of the day, everything is MC's decision. If they decide that they don't want something, Nadia respects it. However, if MC allows Nadia to take care of them, they're in the best, most loving hands.

#nadia satrinava #nadia x mc #arcana nadia #the arcana nadia #nadia the arcana #countess nadia #nadia x apprentice #nadia arcana #nadia is wife

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dashofmonsters · 3 years ago

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Midnight Oceans pt.2

Male Tiefling x Female Reader

It had been three lousy days since you've gone through the portal and into this unknown world. You were completely awestruck the first time you saw everything, Arthok warning you not to gawk but you could hardly help yourself. He was strange alright but not compared to the other odd peoples you met. Everything was new and exciting but your excitement drained quick.

Today you woke in the same room in a tavern run by an old friend of his who owed him several favors.

The large and rather muscular woman with tusks had eyed the both of you with curiosity, plucking at the shirt you had bought Arthok. He gently swatted her hand away and smoothed out the wrinkle she had brought up with a pout.

"Where've ya been Voxis? I haven't seen thread the likes you wear in my life and I've seen many threads," she sneered at him and gave you a scrutinizing glare.

"Calm yourself Kildrae, I'll explain later... Once the lights are lost and the last of your drunken patrons have stepped out," he grounded out.

The woman, Kildrae sighed and nodded reluctantly before pointing to a table far in the back and away from prying eyes. She served the both of you thick stew with rolls and ale. You sipped at the drink, hiding your distaste for the bitter brew. Soggy had taken the shape of the small house cat before entering the establishment and laid next to you, purring up a storm.

After two bowls of stew, three games of cards, witnessing a bar fight, and enjoying a few drunken shanties were you finally starting to tire. There were three sobbing stragglers that Kildrae had to push out when they could not longer hold a tankard in their hands.

She quickly locked the door and barred it before rounding her counter and pulling out a pipe. She knocked it against the wood and refilled it. It's not like the sharp and dry cigarette smoke that would sting your nose, this was a cool herbal note that neither offended nor hurt one's senses.

"Out with it Voxis, you know I don't like surprises," she puffed as she took her seat at the table.

"Then you won't like what I have to say," he crossed his arms and leaned against the table.

"Try me, let's start with the little lady you brought here. Kidnapped, seduced, or stupid?" she tilts her chin up, biting her pipe at you.

Before Arthok could argue you chuckled, "How about no other option?"

Kildrae hummed, "You speak with a strange accent and wear threads I haven't seen before. Where are you from?"

"Far away," Arthok answered.

"No shit and was I asking you?" she glared at him with burning amber eyes.

The tiefling grimaced but silenced all the same. The spot light was on you now ad you had to bring the house down.

"I doubt you'd believe me but I'm from another world," there you said it and now time to look crazy.

The woman groaned and hung her head, "Alright then... so say I believe you for whatever fucked up reason... Tell me why you are here and that it's the only option you have."

You took a deep breath and relayed the lengthy story of how Arthok came to you and how you were now involved with trouble because of Soggy. You removed a couple things from your bag as proof of being from another world and she just nodded. Amazed or terrified, you'd never know.

She sighed heavily and turned again to Arthok, "and you thought it'd be a fantastically wonderful idea to bring her here did you?"

"Kildrae my options are less limited than hers but they're slimming by the day. Oldrek is still holding my ship until I can pay up and round together a decent crew and Nal is being stubborn as ever and refusing to pay for the last three jobs. I'm screwed and out of luck right now and..." Arthok started speaking in another language, his voice straining as he spoke more and more.

Kildrae softened up at whatever he said and agreed to let the both of you stay with her while he figured things out. That was then and now days later you feel your skin crawling with uncertainty.

You roll out of bed and dress yourself in the clothes from this world. Kildrae had given you some coin to purchase new clothes and whatever you might need to be comfortable while you're here. You had grown unusually fond of her in the short amount of time that you had gotten to known her. She's loud and confident and the patrons respect her.

Soggy stretches on the bed and protests when you pick him up and set him aside as you straighten it up.

Today you'll go downstairs and help Kildrae do some prep work and tidy up the tavern for tonight's guests. You open your door at the same time Arthok does. He looks tired and his wrappings have come undone enough for you to see crusted blood.

"It's reopened hasn't it?" it was less of a question and more of an accusation of negligence.

"How much trouble will I be in with you if I told you not to worry about it?" he chuckles then winces.

"We could get Ms. Kildrae to poke it at instead?" you offer with a sly smile.

He groans, "I'll clean up then and await to be wrapped."

"I'll come back up with breakfast. Oh and don't forget Kildrae said someone is coming in to talk to you today about Nal, dude's got some beef with him as well and you'll need the extra muscle given your current condition," you remind him as you trot down the stairs.

You hear his door close as you round the stairs and enter the kitchen. The porridge is pipping hot and smells fantastic. The food Kildrae cooks is good and sticks to your ribs but with all the work you do it never stays.

"Morning little lady," she greets you with a nod, turning from her cutting board.

"Good morning Ms. Kildrae," you smile and grab a couple clean bowls.

"Voxis awake yet?" she asks.

"Yes, but his wound is bleeding out again and he needs his bandages replaced," you sigh.

"Probably from getting kicked in the gut yesterd- oh I'm not supposed to tell you that..." she cringes and apologizes.

"Let me guess, Nal?" you set the bowls back down and lean against the counter. You're buckling in for an explanation whether she or Arthok likes it or not.

"Aye, apparently negotiations went south and Nal started slandering Voxis in public. Being a proud man child that he is, he of course got egged on and had his ass handed to him. He's in no health to be fighting, especially fighting an Orc twice my size," she grits, cutting hard into a chunk of meat almost as if to accentuate her point.

You've heard nothing but bad things about Nal since you've gotten here. He's apparently an ex bounty hunter who posts offers for dangerous and deadly work. Arthok took a few jobs to help pay to get his ship repaired but the Orc has yet to pay him or several others.

Kildrae notices you pondering something and sets her knife down, "What's eating at you now?"

"What are the laws on contract work here? Did Arthok sign anything or was it a verbal agreement when he took the jobs?" you ask.

Her eyes widen and she places a hand on her hip as she leans back against the counter, "Things are done differently where you're from but I get what you're setting down. Most things here are done word for word as one's actions are honored. Nal is anything but honorable, bastard kicked out of his own clan."

"And how is a dishonored agreement handled here? Are there any laws or punishments?" you push the subject, determined to figure out some sort of leverage here.

Kildrae smirks, "Laws here are too loose to hold much meaning and the people tend to uphold their own sense of justice. Don't steal if you think you'll get caught and don't kill unless necessary, punishment for either is always equal to the crime. As for unpaid labor, that's between the party of interest. And Nal has a lot of people interested in seeing him broken and bloodied on the docks."

"That's why Mr. Holgan wants to talk to Arthok?" you sigh. The burley dwarven man from yesterday seemed to hold a high sense of justice and not only felt cheated from his money but felt as if everyone who worked for Nal deserved their long overdue pay.

"He's been gathering a small group of people Nal has wronged. He's got about seven people together who have already agreed to gather more people for a riot against him. Like I said, justice is laid by the people here and he has worn his welcome by many," Kildrae nods her head with satisfaction and returns to work.

You know you've gotten as much as you can out of her and won't press the subject any further. You quickly dole out breakfast for you and Arthok and run back upstairs. You knock on his door to make sure he's dressed and wait for him to answer.

"Took your time," he states, opening the door wide for you.

"Ms. Kildrae and I had a little chat," you set his bowl on his nightstand and yours on the desk by the window. "Next time tell me when you get your ass handed to you, especially when you're still healing."

Arthok groans as he plops down on his bed, cursing and murmuring about something, "You were busy and practically dead tired last night, I didn't want to be a bother."

"You don't have to worry me in order to be a bother," you quip as you pull new bandages from the medical kit you left in his room.

"I know... I'm sorry, not just about me but all this. I'm just glad that I'm able to keep you safe," he stirs his porridge, picking up the spoon and watching as the cereal drips and plops back into the bowl.

"What about you? You keep getting beaten up like nobodies business. How are you keeping yourself safe?" you ask as you sit next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Your question seems to have him completely tongue tied. His eyes stare blankly at his hands and his breathing shudders, "I never... I'm always on the run to stay safe, to stay free. I'm never safe for long, never free from the burden that my family's name brings me."

"Not yet," you add, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "You've been at this for a while, you're family will eventually get tired of throwing money at bounty hunters to reel you back in."

His shoulders sag when he turns to face you, his sky blue eyes seem fogged over and tired as he looks into yours, "I pray that you are right ebrath, and I do not pray often."

Before you can ask him about what he just called you, Soggy pushes the door open all large and in charge. He butts his head against your leg and plops at Arthok's feet.

"Lazy boy," you chuckle.

"Let him enjoy his naps, he'll have work to do soon enough," Arthok sighs and turns his body towards you. "Let's get this over with so we can eat, I'm certain Kildrae will need you down there soon."

You wrap him up with ease, now well practiced from doing this so often. Arthok and you have breakfast together and go over what you discussed with Kildrae earlier. He seems almost shocked that you've taken this much interest in his circumstance with Nal that he seems to be a bit flustered by it.

After you finish up, you leave him to get fully dressed and take the bowls back downstairs. Kildrae has a laundry list of things she needs help with this morning and you eagerly set about to get them done. It's keeps you healthily distracted with having so much to do, you rarely think about home or your actual work.

Arthok eventually makes his way into the tavern, wearing a mix of clothes from this world and yours. He admitted how much more comfortable the clothes you bought him felt and he wore the shirts everyday.

"Make yourself useful until Holgan arrives and help me check my accounts," Kildrae hollers to him.

That makes you perk up. Arthok notices your interest and smiles.

"Very well but I'll need to borrow her. Her real job is to deal with things like this anyways," he shrugs.

Kildrae agrees without the usual argument and you and Arthok go into her office. It's rather large and wonderfully organized with everything in its place.

"Took me nearly a week to clean this place up. I'm just glad she keeps it this way," he chuckles, pulling a book and loose paper off one shelf. "She was piled high in debt, or so she thought. Her late husband was terrible with numbers and left this place a disaster. It took me days to organize her finances and nearly a month to makes heads or tails of what she had to lose. To everyone's surprise, mine included, there were documents proving that taxes had been paid, they were just trying to take advantage of a widow."

You grimace at hearing that. You've heard of people skimming extra for themselves when helping people with their accounts and taking advantage of their ignorance and it always pissed you off. It gave honest people like yourself a bad rep.

He lays out the book and paper and grabs a bag of coins from one of the drawers. Arthok gives you a crash course in currency and how taxes work in this world. You're able to pick it up with ease and when he goes over Kildrae's accounts you manage to point out a couple mistakes. In the end you both go over old dates to double check his and Kildrae's work.

Both made small and few mistakes that were easy to fix. You're surprised by how humble Arthok is when it comes to his flawed math, most people you've helped got all hot and bothered about it but he remains calm.

"I'm impressed," he admits as he looks over the more recent pages, "I was groomed to work with accounts and trade deals but you handle this with more ease and care. You have more of a passion for numbers than you care to show."

"I was a bit of a math nerd in school," you shrug, your cheeks growing warm with such an odd compliment.

He raises a brow and you realize the the term 'nerd' might not be common here or means something else but luckily he doesn't seemed bothered by it and brushes it off.

"I wish this wasn't temporary, I'd need someone like you to help with my finances and possibly to patch up my crew," he grimaces and closes the book.

"Well I'll only be a portal away and we can discuss how you'll pay me then," you joke but realize too little too late that he's taking you seriously. His face lights up with hope and his once fogged over eyes brighten, it makes your stomach reel with guilt.

"You truly mean it?" he hisses as his antlers catch the hanged lights above when he stands. Kildrae marches in and shakes her head at the sight and brings this horrid would be conversation to an abrupt end. You'll have to thank whatever god created tieflings for giving them inconveniencing horns.

You both help him untangle before Kildrae tells him that Holgan and a few others have arrived to discuss Nal. Arthok takes a deep breath and excuses him, giving you a warm smile as he leaves.

"He's sweet on ya little lady," she smirks.

You snort laugh at that, "I doubt."

"And what makes you think so?" she tilts her head.

"He doesn't know me," you grimace, picking up the papers and stacking them neatly.

Kildrae pulls out the chair at her desk and settles down, "In all my time knowing him and mind you that that's a good decade, I have never seen him look at anyone the way he just looked at you."

This felt like the sort of idle chatter friends would have with each other about guys or girls they liked. You had little experience with that seeing how the only guy you dated was apparently 'too good' for you and all your 'friends' said it was your loss when you broke up with him. You like Arthok as far as you could tell, but only as one individual to another, you wouldn't dare fantasize romance on something temporary.

"It doesn't matter," you eventually ground out. "Soon enough I'll be back home and both he and I can put this behind us."

"And what if things don't work out that way?" Kildrae tilts her head up, "Then what?"

"Soggy knows where I need to go, I doubt it'll be a problem," you swallow.

"More doubts, you come off as confident but lack conviction in the things that count it seems," she notes, pulling her pipe from her skirt pocket and knocking the ashes out.

You purse your lips and look towards the door, "I- I uh there are vegetables I need to go chop up."

"Aye, that you do. Check on the boys while you're out there and give them a round of drinks on me. If they can ring their earnings out of Nal they'll be back to spend some here no doubt," she shoos you away as she lights her pipe and begins to hum a shanty when you exit.

You see Arthok and Mr. Holgan surrounded by others who are voicing their grievances over Nal. One of them attempts to grab for your wrist but is quickly stopped by Arthok who addresses you again as ebrath, "All well?"

"Uh yes, Ms. Kildrae asked me to serve you all a round," you try your best to smile while you back away a little bit.

"No doubt on her and hoping it would coax us into spending what we can get out of that miserable oaf," Arthok snorts but the grin he wears is genuine.

Someone makes a terrible and perverse comment about having his drink literally on her and Mr. Holgan slaps him hard against the head and makes him apologize to you for dirtying your ears with such filthy speak.

You can't help but to smile at his gentlemanly behavior, even towards someone who everyone assumes is a tavern wench. You quickly bring out the promised round of ale for the party and complementary snacks that Ms. Kildrae always has set out.

As your setting them down you feel an unfamiliar hand touch the mid of your back. In quick response you turn and practically round house kick the guy. It wasn't the same man as before, this one was the tall lanky elf and he looked both shocked and horrified as blood trickled down his nose. You weren't sorry.

"What in the nine hells was that for wench?" he growled.

You ball up your hands into fists and take a step forward, the elf scrambles back. The men have gone quiet and watch with batted breath, even Arthok. You corner him and step right near the family jewels.

"I am not a fucking wench and you will keep your goddamn hands to yourself. Do I make myself clear?" you look down and sneer.

He nods with a whimper and you stomp off back to the kitchen, the men exhaling with relief that you didn't come after them next. A few making remarks on how hard you kicked him saying he deserved it.

Getting back to your chores you pour all your frustration into chopping a mountain load of vegetables. Ms. Kildrae comes in a little bit later to start assembling the nightly stew.

"You've made it known that you're not one to be messed with, good on ya. Sometimes these dock boys need to be reminded of that. Holgan is too good for this scum town," she notes and you couldn't agree more.

The both of you get into a steady work pace once you've set the vegetable by their respective pots and cauldrons. Kildrae tosses in the meats and vegetables along with her special blend of spices and salts. It wasn't even bubbling yet and the kitchen already smelled like heaven.

"I think I'll miss your kitchen the most when I go back home," you laugh.

"You're always welcome to return if that cat will bring you here," she smiles, sautéing some onions and garlic in a large iron skillet.

The thought alone sounds wonderful but idealistically impossible. You would need to get on with your life when you got home and put this one in a special place in your heart. No one would believe you if you told them where you had been and that's fine. This would be the one thing that would belong to you and no one else on Earth.

It's nearly lunch when the group of men break, Ms. Kildrae had brought them two more rounds and bread and oil to share. Arthok excused himself and meets you in the kitchen.

"How's the discussion going?" you ask.

"Good if you like the idea of getting impaled on a spear by a giant of an Orc," he growls.

"That bad?" you wince.

"My ideas are apparently too cowardly," Arthok grimaces.

"What are they?" you raise a brow.

"Poison arrows. Not enough to kill him but enough to knock him out and tie him up," he shrugs, leaning carefully against the counter.

"That doesn't sound cowardly, it sounds pragmatic. You could put it to them in a way that it would do him more harm since he'd lose to such a cowardly method? I don't know... go behind their backs? Say 'lol you guys are right what was I thinking? Silly old me lets just go bare knuckles at this guy!' and then like not show up to the party and shoot him in the ass with poison darts?" you offer jokingly, and he once again takes you seriously.

"That's..." he pushes himself off the counter and walks towards you. He picks your hand up and kisses your knuckles before leaving. Ms. Kildrae comes in with a grin on her face and teases you till your hot in the face and have to step out to the back to cool off.

You pace around in the back, careful not to run into the chickens as you contemplate your life up unto this point. You're not the adventurous type, nor are you flirtatious or outgoing so what the hell made you drag your ass to a whole different dimension aside from the obvious danger?

"What the actual fuck," you sigh, slumping onto a crate against the fence. You have to admit your life has been the dictionary definition of boring until recently. Your mom always got onto you about needing to get out of your comfort zone and you did just that to the extreme.

Kildrae eventually comes outside with a warm roll as a peace offering, it's oddly effective. "Didn't mean to ruffle your skirts or anything little lady," she crosses her arms as she leans against the fence.

"I know," you bite into the roll and groan. "I feel like I'm giving him false hope... in more ways then one."

"He hasn't had much to hope for in these last few months. What with Nal holding his earnings and his ship stuck on the docks and now bounty hunters... he's been put through the wringer. Whether you think it's false hope or not, you've given him something that's lit a fire under his ass," she takes in a deep breath and smiles down at you, "and something is always better than nothing."

She leaves you with that and the roll she brought you. Soggy saunters outside in full beast form and terrifies the chickens away when he yawns, teeth sharp and bloodied by whatever meat Ms. Kildrae gave him.

"Why me?" you ask the cat, the question obviously rhetorical. He lifts his head up and nods at you, his eyes changing colors like the time he had shown you Arthok's incident with the bounty hunters. "No... Soggy whatever it is you're about to do I need you to-"

You're out like a light, body weightlessly heavy and numb. Your eyes peel open slowly to the sight of your childhood home. Everything is how you remember it, from the two story farmhouse style home with the wide porch you would spend so many summers on to the untamed wild backyard that was fenced off from the rest of the world.

Soggy is at your side in beast form as he slowly strides up to the house. Your mom opens the door and shakes her hide and that's when your jaw drops to the floor. Soggy transforms into an orange cat with a familiar blue collar and bell. A young child version of yourself runs out the house and passed your mom, the cat following you with enthusiasm as he always did.

The picture of your childhood fades leaving you with more questions then answers. Soggy was your childhood cat that your mom always had follow you around. And from the looks of it, your mom knew what he was.

A hand startles you as you jolt awake and you grip at your shirt, breathing hard.

"It's just me!" Arthok pats your shoulder and kneels down next to you, "What happened? You look like someone just drained years off of you."

"Another vision from Soggy," you rub your head and grimace.

"What was it about?" he asks, taking your hand in his. He's got a genuine look of concern that nearly makes your heart stop.

"Where Soggy was before you found him," you swallow. Arthok squeezes your hand in anticipation. "He was my mom's cat... or at least I thought he was just a cat. We called him Afi and-"

Soggy rubs his head against your leg and rumbles loudly as if pleased to hear his old name. "And one day he went missing. I was already moved out of the house and living far away so when my mom told me I didn't think it was strange. Most cats don't live to be over twenty years but he did and I just thought that he...well you know."

Arthok sighs, "Do you need a moment to process this? I understand that this raises more questions and does little to help."

"I'll be fine, for now at least. Can't say I'll be thrilled to have this conversation with my mother but I need to know what's going on here or else it'll eat me up," you toss your head back and groan.

"He must have missed you if he sought you out after all these years," he comments as he stands, hissing in pain from his wound.

"He missed how much I spoiled him," you chuckle.

"You are quite good at it. Gods knows you make me feel spoiled at times," he smiles at you, his eyes glinting like sea glass in the sun.

You pat your knees in an awkward beat and try to think of anything to reroute this conversation back to safe waters. Arthok squeezes your hand again, making you realize that you were still holding hands. Before you can slip from his grasp he pulls you up and gives you a hug.

"I'm going with your idea from earlier. The others will be none the wiser. We're going at it tonight," he whispers to you, his arms shaking.

You shiver at the thought. This land's sense of justice is far from what you've known but it's not like it's new, just brutal. The idea of someone you sort of know buckling up for good old fashion throw down didn't sit well with you but you know you had little say in the matter.

"Can I be honest with you?" he asks, his voice strained.

You nod against his chest.

"I suggested this because I don't want to see anyone else get hurt. I know what Nal is capable of, seen how merciless he is and how dishonorable his actions are," he holds you a little tighter and exhales, "He also terrifies the hells out of me and I don't want to go an inch near him unless it's to retrieve my coin."

"Kicking you in the gut wasn't the only thing he did was it?" you raise your head, his hands dig into the fabric of your shirt.

"There were some punches and he stepped on my hands pretty hard but it's what he said and what he showed me when he dragged me into his shop. He has a damned devil caged and chained up, the beasty was gnawing on the arm of some unlucky victim," Arthok ground out, "If he unleashes that thing here, hundreds of people could die before it's brought down."

"Did you tell them? That they might be walking up to some guy who could sick a devil on them?" you pull away, your eyes wide with horror.

"They didn't believe me or at least thought I was overexaggerating when talking about Nal's little lackey," he sighs, a look of disgust crosses his face.

"Anyway you'd abort mission?" you smile nervously.

Arthok runs his hands from your shoulders, down your arm and to your hands, lifting them and pressing a kiss to both, "It would have been easier to consider without the devil, but that infernal bastard changes everything. If he got out he could get to everyone, including you."

Your stomach churns when his eyes catch yours, heavy with resolve. He sets your hands down, his lips pursing as something nags on his mind, "I wish I could borrow even an ounce of your bravery ebrath, that would be more than enough for tonight."

Before you can speak he bows his head and strides back into the tavern. Your mouth hangs open and you feel your knees give out. Soggy luckily catches you in time and pushes you back to sit on the crate again.

Taking several deep breaths you attempt to calm yourself, eventually you're able to settle your heart back to a steady rhythm and your face feels a lot less heated. You drag yourself up to the water pump and splash your face a couple times for good measure.

This time of day with all the stews on and the bread done baking there's not much for you to do. You've mostly wandered around the market areas with Soggy as your guard and you're considering doing the same today.

Ms. Kildrae regards you when you walk back in but doesn't ask about Arthok being out there either not wanting to push you again or because she didn't know.

"He left a little bit ago to buy supplies for tonight. I loaned him a bit of coin to-"

"Nal has a devil," you blurt. "A real one," you add remembering what Arthok said earlier.

The kitchen goes quiet and Kildrae sets down her knife before wiping her hands off and untying her apron. She grabs her shopping bag off the hook near the stairs and turns to you, "We're going shopping little lady."

~~~~~~~~

The market is busy as ever, stalls packed with different wares from all over this world. People were bargaining and haggling over prices left and right, who had grown accustomed to the commotion but not the crowds.

Kildrae navigates the market with confidence, her head held high and her gaze piercing enough to make people stay far enough out of her way. You're sandwiched between her and Soggy as you make your way to a large burgundy tent with two orcs speaking to each other in their guttural language. Kildrae waves at them and they turn to her with shocked expressions.

"Magbron and Narbruk are my brothers and weapons dealers," she tells you. Her brothers approach her with open arms but she shakes her head and speaks to them in orc and their faces darken, mouths forming sneers and teeth setting till their tusks were fully shown.

One of her brothers stomps off towards the tent, slapping the flap away in rage. The other brother looks to you and Soggy, crossing his arms as if questioning you being there.

"She's capable, Narbruk, that and the cat will listen to her," she reassures her brother who then unfolds.

The other one, Magbron comes out with a large brown bag and a crossbow with bolts that he throws at you. Kildrae snaps at him and he straightens up and quickly apologizes to you. This felt familiar.

"Ever used one of those before?" Kildrae asks as you try to figure out how you should even be holding all this stuff that was tossed at you.

"Never?" you raise a brow, afraid to ask why you'd need to.

"Narbruk will teach you. Mag go find one of the watch, preferably an orc from one of the nine. I need to go buy a few more things and I'll be back, you'll be in good hands here," she turns back to you and nods before striding back into the crowds.

"Ever the boss she is," Magbron groans before following her out. "Don't scare her away Nar," he pats his brother on the arm and runs.

The orc walks up to you and stands with his hands on his hips, "well we best get started. The gods only know if we'll be so lucky to fight a devil and live to tell the tale."

"I hope we're lucky enough to not even have to see it," you grimace.

Narbruk places one of his big hands on your head, "Luck usually never works in one's favor in places like this. Come now, we have work to do."

~~~~~~~~~~

You, Kildrae and her brothers huddle in a alley that faces Nal's shop. His little lackey comes out, stumbling this way and that in a drunken stooper. Soggy who is occupying the alley on the other side lifts his head, eyes glinting in the setting sun, his signal for all is clear.

Magbron races out and grabs the little goblin and tumbles into Soggy's alley. It's a quick and quiet scuffle that ends as soon as it started with the lackey tied, gagged, and knocked out.

Kildrae pats your shoulder and points you into the direction of the shop. You were told earlier to make a scene by throwing stones into the windows to anger Nal in hopes it'll keep him away just a bit longer. You pelt his shop with stones and rocks, some hitting their intended targets but most hitting the windows.

Now was the hard part, hiding in the open. Once Nal sees the damage he'll go down the alleys that open towards his shop and you're in one. Narbruk picks you up and hoists you into his arms, as discussed, and tosses you up enough for you to grab the ledge of the building. You pull yourself up and roll onto your back, screaming internally at yourself for being dragged into this.

I am going to need so much therapy after today.

Sitting up you look around and see the Kildrae, her brothers and Soggy have all placed themselves out of the way. You scan the allies and quickly duck when you see the giant of an orc that is Nal.

He wore the bare minimum of pants and boots, parading around proudly with all his scars and tattoos. Bones and talons decorate his messy dreads and bands of gold accentuate his mean muggin tusks. Pierced in every place possible that you care to see and imagine, this guy was as metal as they can get.

Nal quickly notices the mess that is his shop and practically tears the door off the hinges before searching up and down. After a good few minutes he reemerges, slamming the door hard before looking around and heading down towards the alley you were just in.

You hold your breath as he passes and lay flat on your belly. You make a mental note to yourself to look into splurging on a spa day when you get back to your world.

If I get back to my world...

After a few minutes go by and no Nal in sight does the next stage of this dangerous plan burst into action. Narbruk, in all his size and armor somehow manages to quietly run up to the shop and sneak in. That was your signal to ready yourself and your bolts. You station yourself by the chimney and hold yourself up by your elbows. From here you have the perfect view of his shop.

Holding position you wait for Narbruk's signal, hoping that it's an open hand signaling the lack of the devil. You wait and wait and when you finally see him emerge your heart drops at his closed fist. It's there and by the slicing movement the orc does with his hand at his throat, it's ready to kill.

Narbruk rushes towards the building you're at and climbs the wall and lands on the roof with a heavy thud. He motions for you to follow and you do just that. The orc points to a tall building three blocks away before hoisting you up and jumping to the next building with ease. In no time flat you're facing Kildrae and her other brother, both waiting for the news.

"He's got a damn devil alright, keeping it fed just enough by the looks of it," Narbruk grimaces as he sets you down.

"Fuck!" Magbron pounds his fist against the building.

"We'll have to get to Nal and fast, cut him off somehow before he returns," Kildrae runs a hand through her hair and looks to you. "Like we went over earlier, we'll hold him down while you fire. If Arthok finds us, fill him in."

With that said the group rushes back to Nal's shop, via rooftop and alleyway. You, Narbruk and Soggy jump back to the building you were at, nearly slipping when you see the crowd of rioters Holgan had built up. This was the last thing you wanted to see. They were here earlier than they said they'd be and so was Arthok. You see the tiefling jumping from rooftop to rooftop, clutching at his wound ever so often.

When he reaches the building on the other side of yours, you poke your head out just enough and wave at him. His eyes widen and he stills before shaking his head and jumping over to you.

"What in the nine hells are you doing here?" he hisses.

You lift your crossbow and point back to Soggy and Narbruk, "Stopping Nal before he gets to the shop. If he gets in and unleashes that devil, it's all over."

Arthok shakes his head again, "You shouldn't be here."

"No, you shouldn't be here," you press a hand to his wound and he growls. "Now shut up, sit down and listen. We have a plan."

The tiefling sighs heavily but positions himself next to you as you fill him in per Kildrae's request. You tell him about how the watch is supposed to come by and how you had hoped to catch Nal before the crowd came in.

"And now they're nearly at his doorstep... Nal is-"

"Still out, as far as we can tell. His lackey is bound and gagged so one less to worry about. If possible we need the rioters to surround his shop, make it impossible for him to get in until the watch gets here," you explain.

"I think I can get Holgan to organize that... Anything else?" he slips a shaking hand over yours and you grasp it.

"We'll be fine, a little fucked up afterwards but we'll be alive," you whisper to him and as you pull your hand away you kiss his cheek.

He blinks in surprise before nodding his head with a solid resolve. Arthok runs off then towards the crowd leaving you with a giggling Narbruk. Yeah him and Kildrae are definitely related you think.

You close your eyes and picture your apartment, your favorite restaurant and your childhood home. Five days ago things had been so peaceful. Four days ago things had gotten weird. Three days ago you entered this strange and foreign world. And now, today you're on a rooftop with a crossbow ready to shoot some guy's eye out.

"You ready for all this?" Narbruk taps your shoulder, his voice calm which helps your nerves a little.

"Not really, but what other choice do I have?" you shrug your shoulders.

"Run? Take the next boat out of here?" he raises a brow as if that should have been obvious.

You roll your eyes and check your crossbow, making sure the bolt is secure, "I've already ran once, best not to make it a habit."

Narbruk nods with a solemn smile as if approving of your own resolve, "If the devil gets out then you might want to run."

"No need to tell me," you chuckle nervously.

The crowd nears the shop and you hear the beating on weapons, shields, and boots hitting the ground. Kildrae manages to sound out her signal, a perfect imitation of a bird... Nal is close.

Arthok jumps back up to the building across from yours and jumps over and runs up to the hiding spot, "Holgan and the others will cooperate but only a few believed me when I said that a devil was confirmed in the shop."

"Did Holgan?" you ask.

"Yes, but with all these people he's not so willing to risk unleashing it. The rioters were barely willing to fight Nal, if they knew what else was here they'd already be packed and on to the next town," he grimaces.

As you open your mouth to speak a loud roar echoes over the cries and yells of the crowd. It had come from Kildrae and Magbron's spot. Narbruk stands, silent and still, amber eyes like his sister scanning the surrounding area. He holds out his hand and crouches. "Stay," is all he says before launching himself to the building on the other side.

Your heart stops just thinking about something bad happening to Ms. Kildrae. Arthok squeezes your shoulders and you jump at the contact.

"Go back to the tavern," he turns you to him, forcing you to look into those piercing eyes of his. "Please, go back there."

You grab his hands off your shoulders and sigh, "If Nal is over there, they'll need you. I can't jump like that."

Arthok closes his eyes and grinds his teeth, "Please just-"

"I'm needed here, just incase he gets passed them. You shoot him down first and make sure I don't need to finish him off. I'm just the back up now," you purse your lips as the reality of all this come crashing down onto you.

He nods and starts to pull back but you quickly pull him into a hug.

"You fucking better come back or else I won't be able to sleep when I get back to my world you asshole," you feel the tears stinging but quickly shove them away, there will be time for feelings later.

Whether it was being terrified or overly emotional or whatever you felt driven to do a 'something' as Kildrae put it. You pull back and grab his face, planting your lips on his. You hear him moan his shock but it doesn't last long. He returns the kiss with fervor only breaking at the sound of an explosion in the distance.

"Go," you swat at him and Soggy pushes him up. Arthok turns and takes one last good look at you before he runs off.

You get back into position, watching as the crowd huddles his shop with Holgan shouting orders. Soggy crouches next to you, his shoulders hunched and ready to attack if necessary. A chilling breeze sends a shiver down your spine and you have to set your teeth to stop the chatter.

Tonight is going to be the longest night of your life and it's only just begun.

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