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bigmoneypastelhalloween · 2 years ago

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youtube

[Previous]

2 hr 24 mins 30 joanne in san diego predicts simultaneous fire+earthquake in cali

2 hr 25 responding

2 hr 26 anon prediction: covid management improves, new deuce bigelow movie {🤞} plus tangent, eerie repeat of Osbourne death prediction. Prediction that johnboy will do a cribs, or a cooking segment.

2 hr 28 response to anon. "Im gordon ramsey 2.0, im just waiting for the right time" i mean like what DO you do all day, do you order out even on days youre not reviewing and only eat the one thing? Watch yousuckatcooking. Your version of that would have people riveted. You could start practicing now with a few meals a week, privately, and in two years you'd have actual dormchow enhancement content. From there you pull a "jamie & julia". The fannibals et al are out there dying to be the audience for this. You couldnt be the next gordon ramsey (youre never going to work in kitchens) but you could be the next frugal gourmet. Of course if you dont think cooking is fun this is moot advice. I think its fun.

2 hr 29 email from steven with a variety of predictions: ukraine attrition continues, russia doesnt give (johnboy agrees). Inflation doesnt decrease. Uprisings, especially in impoverished nations. Covid in china. Cost of living/regulatory failure crisis continues. Extreme weather continues. response-bait abt shortwave.

2 hr 33 responsing to steven, pivots immediately to shortwave item. Drop in the medium in late 90s and then again in 2007-2012 or so. 50-70% decline in number of stations from 2007 to 2013.

2 hr 36 the 3 big stations that have died in the last year were his 3 faves

2 hr 41 a station he liked now just plays "soulless pop music" for 3 hours a night? He keeps saying soulless pop music, we want names

2 hr 43 penny predictions: more of the same, plus reviewbrah hot ones appearance

2 hr 46 "so close yet so far" re hot ones

2 hr 46 mins 30 hot one was filming in new york and he had to be up there anyway for some "personal issues", this is when he made the amtrak review vid [next tony bourdain nascent ever since]

2 hr 48 re being sick on hot ones "it just wouldn't be a good look"

2 hr 49 "its a couple hours into the show" with one hour left on the clock exactly. Reflecting on the seriousness of the predictions.

2 hr 51 big buildup to this one, "strap in, ok": ikea hotdog scandal. "This listener went there."

2 hr 51 mins 30 sam in slc, predicting tiktok implosion, rise of new social platform related to decline of tiktok or rebrand/restructure of tiktok.

2 hr 55 response about tiktok, coming out as not having an account

2hr 57 pondering what his tiktok content would even be. I mean, start with the memes, make them sounds people can use etc. Then just start finding random clips of gulps or times youre looking at the sky. Obviously the tiktok olympics gold is doing the king tut video in a metal wig. I figure you could master her moves/faces well enough in about a day. You could do an enough slices thing soooo easily, also. Get the fantano nod. Im kidding, fantano would be like "smacks of effort" and trish probably wouldn't notice because you cant raise her profile. But the terminally online would applaud the intertextuality.

2 hr 58 youtubes consistency amazes.

2 hr 59 mins 50 predictions from ollie; 1) swing from minimalism to maximalism, 2) death of american tipping culture, 3) continued drop in fertility rates (whose specifically and why is this relevant), 4) rise in popularity of nonmainstream religions {true}

3 hr 5 anon email; increasing visibility of effect of living online, new ecelebs going RL trend, neocons will neocon

3 hr 8 response, re the chronically online gen. "Sorry if it sounds like im a broken record" youre all good

3 hr 11 "are we gonna be in a hellhole that makes this look like paradise? But thats just me, that's my pessimistic attitude" the one who said thered be an offlineism movement was wrong about when, but people who didnt grow up there will find ways to recreate the internet of the mid 90s. Probably by legalistically dismantling all the major tech corps and parsing up the landscape on a micro/private scale plus centralized text only message boards and like nothing else. This will enter law in the 2070s. "Unshareable" data will become valuable but by 2100 very little data will not be available in some capacity from the public library. They will by this time have j/o booths, unofficially.

3 hr 13 "this isnt organic" {the way he says organic, divine} "...theres things and entities that could probably make things better with the flick of a finger but they dont"..."it would be artificially stopped... what does it matter if its artificial in that case, it doesnt" ..."since i started paying attention, in 2014 or so" ah yes...we who started paying attention...

3 hr 14 predictions from a 3rd world military officer: militarization of u.s. mexico border, another prediction about substation attacks and grid outages, u.s. out of syria results in antikurdish violence, culture war ambivalence with centrist squeeze, cali swings right as nimbys eat themselves alive in outrage, fast food automation continues and is memed on, hopes canada will swing hard con {miss me with that}, China has protests but no worker revolt and economic prosperity from levant/africa investments mid to late year, japanese militarization, russia will take 40% of ukraine not including crimea, unrest in britain, rightward swing in german politics, poland struggles.

3 hr 18 response.

3 hr 24 helen in scotland predicts next great depression. Prediction of 3 milly on yt for rotw.

3 hr 26 response; a lot of ppl see economic downturn on the horizon

3 hr 28 wrapping up, email from steven in alaska. Predictions about crypto etc.

3 hr 29 responding to steven. "I dont see anyone predicting that the economys gonna be booming in 2023"

3 hr 30 anon in the Midwest predicting johnboy endorsing desantis for potus {you dont have to imagine my reaction here you go 🤢🤢🤢} "or maybe not". Rehash of how he never endorses anyone and ALWAYS airs a voting year psa about JUST (research and) VOTE 🇺🇲 🫡🇺🇲

3 hr 32 he's decided encouraging his audience to vote is probably doing more harm than good if theyre not really informing themselves

3 hr 33 he thinks the podcast audience might be more inclined to actually research their vote so he might urge the podcast audience to vote

3 hr 34 i dont think you need to be so hard on yourself about getting out the vote kiddo, florida will sort itself out. I would bet on it.

3 hr 35 weather predictions (continuing from midwest anon)

3 hr 36 predictions from dublin: new covid, kansas city chiefs win the superbowl, icecream cheeseburgers, "reviewbrah will bring back the vorw nightwalking segment, wishful thinking" we can all wish

3 hr 38 "I'll close off the broadcast with this"; the nightwalk segment ended due to technical changes on the production end. He used to use a little mp3 recorder "a piece of junk, im not afraid to finally admit that" lmao what were the stakes of not admitting it? Hilarious.

3hr 40 "i like the softness" i am cut to the quick

3 hr 41 he went thru 6 or 7 mp3 recorders in a couple years

3 hr 42 get a smartphone

3 hr 44 it would be hilarious, if you were wasted and someone else was handling the cart. The bike plus little red wagon is truly...inspired

#Youtube #vorw #reviewbrah #report of the week

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nerdythebard · 3 years ago

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#25: Artio, The Bear Goddess

Fáilte, Gods and Goddesses!

Today, we step onto the green shores of Ireland for our first Celtic deity. Meet Artio, the Bear Goddess. Evidence of her cult was found as far as modern-day Switzerland, where a figure showing a woman feeding a bear was discovered. In SMITE, Artio is a melee druidess who shapeshifts into a bear to protect her allies.

Next Time: Who knew the wisest of the gods would turn out to be the pettiest...

Let's start with the goals of making Artio:

Bear Hug: Easy one, but necessary - we need to be able to transform into a huge bear and deal some serious damage.

Mother Nature: Artio can heal, conjure up vines, and drain vitality from her enemies.

Celtic Guardian: Artio's strong sides are good Crowd Control abilities and High Sustain. We need to be able to soak in some damage and prevent enemies from advancing.

---

Now, we could just go with a human or (like Artemis) an elf, but for Artio, I think we'll look at the Wayfinder's Guide to Eberron and one of their races. More specifically, the Beasthide Shifter. Believed to be descendants of humans and lycanthropes, Shifters combine the traits of man and beast into a single, deadly force. Beasthide Shifters get a +2 Constitution and a +1 Strength, 60 feet of Darkvision, and proficiency in Athletics skill. We also get the Shifting ability; as a bonus action, we can assume a more bestial form for up to 1 minute. We gain Temporary Hit Points equal to [our level + our Constitution modifier] plus one more benefit depending on our Shifter subrace. Beasthide Shifters gain an extra 1d6 THP and +1 AC bonus when shifted.

As the Big Bear In Charge, Artio is the protector first and foremost, so making her the Folk Hero seems right to me. We gain proficiency in Animal Handling and Survival, one type of artisan's tools, and land vehicles. The Rustic Hospitality feature allows us to seek help and shelter among the common folk, because of our good reputation among the poor.

ABILITY SCORES

We'll start with Strength - we're a melee combatant, our blows need to pack a punch. Constitution will be next, we're the guardian with a thick bear hide for a reason. Follow that up with Wisdom, it's going to be our casting ability, but we won't be very spell-forward.

Dexterity is next, while not the most nimble of fighters, we need to make sure everyone around is protected. Charisma is a little low, but since Artio keeps mostly to the wilderness and forests, she doesn't necessarily interact with people... although we need to boost this up, bears are pretty intimidating. Finally, we're dumping Intelligence. I don't see a reason to have academic smarts here.

CLASS

Now, I know what you're thinking. Nature, shapeshifting, magic... Druid start-to-finish, right? Well, not necessarily. Half-a-point for trying, though.

Level 1 - Fighter: Artio is a melee character with spellcasting. We need to be a tank first, a magic-user second. Fighters get a d10 Hit Dice, [10 + Constitution modifier] initial Hit Points, and proficiency with light armour, medium armour, heavy armour, shields, simple weapons, and martial weapons. For Artio (when not in the Bear Form) I think we could get regular leather armour and either a quarterstaff or a glaive. Our saving throws are Strength and Constitution and we get to pick two class skills (Intimidation and Perception).

Fighters begin by choosing their Fighting Style, and to fulfil Artio's role as a guardian, we're gonna go with Interception from Tasha's Cauldron of Everything. Whenever a creature within 5 feet of us is hit by an attack, we can use our reaction to reduce the damage taken by [1d10 + our proficiency bonus] to a minimum of 0 damage. We must be wielding a shield or a simple/martial weapon for this.

We also get Second Wind, which lets us take a breather and heal [1d10 + our Fighter level] Hit Points as a bonus action once per short or long rest.

Level 2 - Fighter: We get Action Surge. Once per short or long rest we can take one additional Action on our turn.

Level 3 - Fighter: We get to pick our subclass, our Martial Archetype. For Artio, who uses her bear form to maul any enemy in her sights, we're gonna pick the Brute archetype from a 2018 Unearthed Arcana. With Brute Force we increase our overall weapon damage by an extra 1d4.

Level 4 - Fighter: Time for our first Ability Score Improvement. We're really going to double down on our Hit Points, by taking the Tough feat. Our maximum Hit Points increase by [our level x2]. Whenever we level up afterwards, we get +2 Hit Points Maximum.

Level 5 - Druid: Time for some representation of Nature's might. Multiclassing into a Druid gives us proficiencies we already have, so we're going to skip it. We do, however, learn the Druidic language - a system of phrases and symbols we can use to encrypt messages.

Druids are also full casters, so we learn Spellcasting from the start. Wisdom is our casting ability, and we can learn cantrips and ritual spells. Druids have an access to their full spell list, and can each day prepare [our Wisdom modifier + our Druid level] spells. We start by knowing two cantrips:

Druidcraft is a druid-exclusive cantrip used to influence nature around us. We can make flowers bloom or wither, predict the weather, light and extinguish small flames, and create harmless sensory effects.

Guidance lasts for 1 minute (concentration). A willing creature we touch (or us) can add a 1d4 to one ability check of its choice.

We also start with two 1st-level spell slots:

Cure Wounds is a very useful healing spell. One creature we touch regains [1d8+our spellcasting modifier] Hit Points instantly. The number of Hit Points healed increases if we use a spell slot higher than 1st level.

Earth Tremor creates a shockwave within 10 feet of us. Each creature in the range must make a Dexterity saving throw or take 1d6 bludgeoning damage and fall prone.

Level 6 - Druid: We unlock the Druid's signature ability: Wild Shape. As an action, we can transform into a beast for a number of hours equal to half of our Druid level (rounded down). In the beginning, we can only transform into a beast with no flying or swimming speed and with a maximum CR of 1/4... which means, we can't become a bear yet.

We also get to pick a second subclass, our Druid Circle. We need to become a bear ASAP, therefore we're choosing Circle of the Moon, which focuses on improving our Wild Shape. The Combat Wild Shape feature lets us transform as a bonus action instead of action and lets us spend a spell slot when transformed to regain 1d8 Hit Points. Circle Forms changes our Wild Shape table, giving us the ability to transform into beasts with a maximum CR of 1 as of now. This means we can now become either a brown or black bear.

We gain another 1st-level spell: Entangle causes grasping vines and thick brambles to grow in a 20-foot square area centred at a point within 90 feet of us. For 1 minute (concentration), the area becomes difficult terrain. Any creature that enters (or ends their turn in) the area must make a Strength saving throw or become restrained. On each of their turn, they can make a Strength saving throw to free themselves.

Level 7 - Druid: We don't get any class features here, but we do unlock 2nd-level spells. Gust of Wind causes a strong gale to blow in a line 60 feet long and 10 feet wide for 1 minute (concentration). For every 1 foot they want to move, all creatures within the line must spend 2 feet of their movement speed. The wind disperses gases and fog and can either extinguish flames or fan them (50% chance).

Level 8 - Druid: Time for another ASI. This time, let's put two points into Constitution for even better durability.

Our Wild Shape ability also improves, now giving us the ability to transform into beasts with a maximum CR of 1 but with swimming speed (e.g. a giant octopus).

We also learn a new cantrip: Frostbite causes ice and frost to appear on one target within 60 feet of us. The target must make a Constitution saving throw or take 1d6 cold damage and gain disadvantage on their next weapon attack before the end of its next turn.

We get one more Druid spell: Enhance Ability lasts for 1 hour (concentration) and enhances one ability for one creature of our choice (or ourselves).

Level 9 - Fighter: Coming back to the frontline combatant, we unlock Extra Attack. We can now attack twice instead of once during each Attack action.

Level 10 - Fighter: Halfway through the build and we get an ASI. This time, let's raise our Dexterity by 2 points for better AC and Initiative count.

Level 11 - Fighter: We get another subclass update. With Brutish Durability, we can now shake off more powerful attacks. Whenever we make a saving throw, we can roll a 1d6 and add the result to the overall score. This benefit also works on Death Saving Throws; if a total result is 20 or higher, we gain the DST benefit of a Natural 20 (+2 saves).

Level 12 - Fighter: Another ASI. This time, let's put one point in Strength and one in Dexterity.

Level 13 - Fighter: We get the Indomitable feat. Once per long rest, we can re-roll a failed saving throw. We have to use a new result even if we fail it again.

Level 14 - Fighter: Another subclass upgrade. This time, we get to pick a second Fighting Style. The Superior Technique style lets us choose one manoeuvre from the Battle Master subclass. We also get one d6 Superiority Die to fuel said manoeuvre. Pushing Attack allows us to spend the Superiority Die whenever we hit the enemy and impose the Strength saving throw on them. On a failed save, the target is pushed up to 15 feet away from us.

Level 15 - Fighter: Our Extra Attack can now be used to attack twice instead of once, for a total of three attacks per one Attack action.

Level 16 - Fighter: For another ASI, we once again increase both Strength and Dexterity.

Level 17 - Fighter: We improve our Indomitable feature into two re-rolls between long rests.

Level 18 - Fighter: Another level, another ASI. Let's max out our Constitution into 20.

Level 19 - Fighter: We get our final subclass upgrade. With Devastating Critical, when we score a critical hit with a weapon attack, we gain a bonus to damage roll equal to our Fighter level.

Level 20 - Fighter: Our capstone is Fighter 16, which means final ASI. Let's put two points into Intelligence to get rid of negative modifiers.

---

And that is Artio, the Mother Bear of Ireland. Let's see what I came up with here:

To start off, we're an absolute tanking beast (no pun intended). With an average Hit Points of 235 and Temporary HP of 25+1d6 every time we shift, we can soak some serious damage and protect our allies. Our AC is 16, and we have a +3 to our Initiative.

Unfortunately, our magic capabilities are pretty scarce for a Druid. Plus, most of our spells require concentration. Our Intelligence and Charisma scores are also not great, so we might be vulnerable to those kinds of saving throws.

---

Another day, another build. I hope you guys enjoyed it and I'll see you for the next one. I'll start with another request when we finish gods beginning at the letter A.

- Nerdy out!

#dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #smite #smite gods #artio #celtic gods #druid #d&d druid #circle of the moon #shifter #beasthide shifter #fighter #brute #dnd build

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chronicallylatetotheparty · 3 years ago

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Lucky Charm: Reflekdoll

Summary: Adrien struggles to adapt to his powers as Mister Bug while facing an old villain with a new trick. Will he be able to learn fast enough to save his partner?

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"Reflektas, start turning the rest of Paris into me!"

Adrien hid behind the overturned car as Reflekta's clones started attacking untransformed civilians. Apparently, Reflekdoll broadcast a signal that brainwashed any copies. "That's new."

"You are Chat Noir, correct?"

Turning, he spotted a red kwami holding a pair of earrings. "Yeah? And that over there is... Ladybug?" Adrien asked as someone who could only be his Lady launched herself at the giant sentimonster. The suit may have been different but the cat ears were a dead giveaway.

"There's been a little mix up with the Miraculous. I'm Tikki, pleased to meet you!" Tikki offered Adrien the earrings which he accepted.

"Well! Tikki, transforme-moi!"

-----------------

Marinette dodged blast after blast from Reflekdoll.

"Well, my Lady Noire, looks like you're playing the easy part today!"

Lady Noire looked over to see who could only be Chat Noir with her Miraculous. "Not so sure about that!" Placing herself in front of him Lady Noir whirled her staff as a shield, blocking Reflekdoll's beam. "Looks like we'll be taking on two opponents that amplify each other's powers!"

They jumped onto the top of a nearby stone pillar as Reflekdoll attacked again.

"Stay focused, Mister Bug!"

Mister Bug took his yo-yo out and whirled it like he'd seen Ladybug do countless times. "Just my luck. I'm gonna have to capture two akuma instead of one."

"No, one akuma and one amok," Lady Noire corrected.

Reflekta fired her beam into one of the ports onboard. The magic layered by Reflekdoll before it shot a concentrated beam. Mister Bug acted on instinct and tackled Lady Noire out of the way. They rolled to their feet and charged up Reflekdoll as Lady Noire explained what a sentimonster was.

"Would've been nice to know what the Peacock could do before their sentimonsters started showing up!" Mister Bug commented as he launched a kick at said sentimonster to little effect.

"It was on a need-to-know basis!" Lady Noire swung her staff into the sentimonster with similar results.

"I really need to talk with the Guardian about what he considers 'need-to-know'!" Mister Bug leapt back towards the ground with Lady Noire. "Okay, so we need to find Reflekta's akumatized object and the baby monster's amok."

Lady Noire deflected another beam from Reflekdoll. "Can you manage or should we switch back?"

"C'mon! I'm totally capable of doin' it!" Mister Bug smirked.

Lady Noire pulled him out of the way of Reflekdoll's beam and they ran towards the Eiffel Tower. "We need to figure out where the akuma and amok are!"

"Probably the same place as the last time we fought her. In her bracelet!"

They jumped onto the tower itself and used the iron structure to shield themselves. "Maybe. We're gonna have to check that!"

"If I could just get my hands on a mirror I'd be able to reflect her own beam back at her!"

Landing on the first level, Lady Noire turned to look at Mister Bug. "That's not how it works." She crossed her arms. "The Lucky Charm doesn't just give you what you want."

"You ever asked? Watch and learn!" Mister Bug grinned. "Lucky Charm!"

"A mirror!" Oh, Adrien was gonna lord this over her so much!

"Beginners luck," Lady Noire declared. Chat Noir was gonna be insufferable about this she could feel it.

"You're just jealous of my mastery!" Mister Bug teased.

A loud banging interrupted them and they looked down to see Reflekdoll climbing the tower. Reflekta steering with one hand and shooting her much smaller lasers through the window eyes with the other.

Mister Bug held out his mirror and reflected one of them back at her. Bullseye!

Reflekdoll shot at them with its big beam.

"Very effective, Mister Bug."

"Hey, it worked didn't it?"

Lady Noire sighed in exasperation. "May I remind you that the Lucky Charm doesn't just give you an object to defeat the villain with-"

"I thought that's exactly what it does?"

"You actually have to figure out exactly how to use it!" Lady Noire poked him in the forehead. "Using your head!"

Reflekdoll reached there level and started firing. Mister Bug jumping for cover while Lady Noire blocked its attack with her staff. "Since you wasted your Lucky Charm. I guess that means it's my turn, buggaboy! Watch and learn! Cataclysm!"

Lady Noire leapt at the sentimonster and-

Her body was pulled out of the way of Reflekdoll's beam just in time. Mister Bug unwinding his yo-yo none too gently. "What was that about using your head? May I remind you that Cataclysm needs a physical medium to work properly! If that sentimonster is made outa magic I doubt it'll do what you want!"

Lady Noire held the Cataclysm as close as she could without actually touching it. "Well, what do you suggest?"

Mister Bug pulled her out of the way of another beam. "Uh... I... Knock her back to ground level while I come up with something?" Adrien smiled with the most conviction he could muster.

Lady Noire groaned. "Think fast!" And rushed out. Dodging Reflekdoll's attack she extended her baton and struck the sentimonster with her full momentum. Reflekdoll crashing back down to earth.

Taking advantage of Lady Noire's distraction Mister Bug glanced around from his high vantage point. Trying to spot anything that would spark an epiphany like Ladybug. "Okay, I admit it!" he cried out, shoulders slumping, "Being Chat Noir is way more fun."

Lady Noire leapt around the sentimonster and struck at its body. The Black Cat giving her a bit more agility than she was used to. Very handy.

Mister Bug added a swing of his yo-yo to one of her attacks. Reflekdoll stumbling with their combined force.

Lady Noire landed beside him. "What have you got?"

"Ah," Mister Bug rubbed the back of his neck. "About that..."

She stared at him. "Seriously!?"

"Well, I'm sorry! Some of us are just slow learn-"

"LOOK OUT!"

Lady Noire didn't think. She just acted. Mister Bug was the only one who could purify the akuma and he needed to keep going. She pushed Mister Bug out of the way as one of Reflekta's clones attacked... Just as Reflekdoll fired its beam.

"My Lady!" Mister Bug cried out.

Lady Noire stood immobile as a Reflekta copy.

"Yes! Now get bug boy's Miraculous!" The original Reflekta ordered.

Springing to life, the Reflekta that used to be Lady Noire aimed her bracelet and fired.

Mister Bug whirled his yo-yo as a shield and leapt to the nearest roof.

"You won't get away from me!" Reflekta called after him as he fled for cover.

-----------------

Adrien leaned against the wall of his hiding place. Breathing deeply, heart hammering in his chest. "Okay. It's okay. Ladybug does this all the time! What would Ladybug do? What would Ladybug do?"

The Ladybug earrings beeped insistently.

"This is fine!" Adrien announced as he detransformed.

Tikki falling into Adrien's palms as he fell to his knees.

"This isn't fine! Tikki, I can't do this! I'm no Ladybug! We should've switched back when she said! I-" Adrien's chest constricted and he forced his breath to slow.

"She trusted you enough to keep going," Tikki said weakly.

Her state bringing Adrien out of his head. "You need food."

Tikki hovered closer to his face, looking him in the eye. "No two of my Ladybug's have ever been exactly alike. Some are slower learners than others. I trust you, too."

Adrien looked away, shoulders hunching. "But I messed up."

"Remember Stoneheart?" Tikki prompted. "Ma- Ladybug messed up too. But you still believed in her." She placed a paw on his cheek. "Believe in yourself now."

Adrien's gaze came back to her.

"Don't ask what Ladybug would do. Ask yourself: what would Adrien do?"

Steeling his resolve Adrien nodded, rising to his feet and cupping Tikki in his palms. "First things first," he inched closer to the alleyway's entrance. The overturned car with his stash of Camembert a short sprint away. "Let's get you recharged."

A gaggle of Reflekta clones chased a group of civilians past him. The people hit turning into more copies and standing still until the akuma villain's voice came booming over the city. The new clones springing to life so they could follow her orders.

They lit up in Adrien's mind and his head shot back to the sentimonster in the distance. Its beam lighting up too.

Adrien gazed down at Tikki and grinned. "I've got an idea."

-----------------

"Lucky Charm!"

A mirror fell into Mister Bug's hands. "Wow, twice in a row. Lucky me," Adrien deadpanned as he tied it to his arm like a shield using his yo-yo. The plan was a laughably simple two step process.

Step One: Get shot.

"Hey, Reflekta!" he hollered from a rooftop at convenient shooting hight. "Don't you know that pink frills are so last season?"

"Once I turn the whole world into Reflektas it'll be the only season!" She fired into Reflekdoll's port which concentrated her energy into a stronger blast.

Just as planned. Mister Bug braced his feet and held his Lucky Charm directly in front of him. "Here we go!"

The sentimonster fired.

Step Two: Shoot Reflekta with her own sentimonster's magic.

The beam reflected off Mister Bug's mirror and perfectly into the round eye windows. Blasting Reflekta dead center.

Adrien held his position for a moment, peaking past his makeshift shield. Reflekta and Reflekdoll stood still. Waiting for orders from... themselves. The enhanced magic dependent on the sentimonster and by extension whoever was driving it.

"Yes!" Mister Bug raised both fists. "Now just a little pest control and we can all get on with our day!"

Finding and purifying the akuma and amok was easy when he wasn't being shot at. Grabbing Juleka as the sentimonster vanished and setting her down on the ground.

Adrien looked at Mister Bug's reflection in his mirror... "I've always wanted to do this." And tossed his Lucky Charm into the air. "Miraculous Mister Bug!"

As the ladybug's restored Paris he spotted a familiar black suit. Adrien ran for her.

"Mister Bug? What- OOF!" Lady Noire stumbled as her partner barreled into her and tried to squeeze all the air out of her lungs. Once she could breathe Marinette wrapped her arms around him and patted his back. "You did good, little bug."

Adrien just held her for a moment. She was okay. He'd saved her. She was okay.

Then his earrings beeped.

Breaking the hug, Mister Bug jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Ah, we should split."

"Yeah..." Lady Noire readied to extend her baton. "... I think I finally get why you're so protective."

Mister Bug smiled. "And I get why you're so focused all the time."

He offered a fist bump and she accepted. Both heroes leaping in opposite directions.

-----------------

"Tikki!" Marinette cradled her friend to her chest.

"Marinette!"

"I can't believe how much Chat trusts me... Knowing you might have to do that again? I don't think I could handle it."

"He's your Chat Noir for a reason, Marinette," Tikki agreed.

-----------------

"Fighting by yourself is horrible, Plagg! I don't know how Ladybug does it." Adrien held him tight. Deciding never to let his Miraculous out of his sight again.

"She's got you most of the time, doesn't she? You're supposed to support each other, ain't ya?"

"Yeah. You're right..."

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"... Well, one things for sure, Tikki." Marinette gazed off in the direction Plagg flew towards.

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"She definitely-"

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"He definitely-"

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"-got the short straw."

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Yes, this is technically the last prompt... But it's already written and I'm impatient.

@adrienaugust

#adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #tikki #ml fanfic #reflekdoll #ml rewrite #adrienaugust #adrienaugreste #kwami swap #mister bug #lady noire

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owl-with-a-pen · 4 years ago

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Kara had been putting on a brave face all afternoon. Alex figured it would have been a little more obvious to everyone had it not been for the fact that they all were.

Each of them had been affected by the Phantom’s fear visions to some degree, but in typical Super Friends fashion, they’d found the remedy to those fears in each other’s company.

It almost felt too normal, gathering at Kara’s apartment, playing board games, eating and drinking, laughing and pretending that the last few weeks had been nothing but a bad dream.

Nothing was that easy, though, no matter how hard they tried. After all, it didn’t escape Alex that Lena had more than overindulged in her fair share of scotch since her arrival, or that Nia had practically remained glued to Brainy’s side the whole afternoon, fiddling with the life projectors beneath his shirt as they lay curled against each other on the couch. Brainy held her just as tightly in return, as though he was afraid to let her go. It was clear he was way more on edge than normal, hyper-aware of his surroundings, startling at just about any loud noise. So much so that the pop from the champagne cork earlier that day had very nearly sent him reeling right out of the room. After that, Alex had put the group on a strict twist off cap rule for any future bottles that were to be opened in Brainy’s presence.

Alex knew that Kelly had seen something awful there as well, but her girlfriend had been doing everything to keep the morale of the team boosted, instead assuring her that she was working through it on her own terms, and that she wanted Alex to feel comfortable talking to her about her own nightmare as well.

As much as Alex wanted to take Kelly up on that offer - right now - sitting there with her friends, drink in hand and her sister’s head resting on her shoulder… this was how she was getting by. She didn’t need to talk it out, at least not in that moment. Being in the presence of her family, feeling the soft fibres of Kara’s cardigan between her fingers, this was more than enough to keep her fears at bay.

But, she knew that Kara was struggling.

Despite the strength Kara was trying desperately to maintain, Alex could see the strain behind every smile. Even now she was home safe, decked in sweats and curled up under her favourite blanket, it didn’t take from the fact that whatever she’d seen in the Phantom Zone still lived within her. Providing all the comforts in the world wasn’t going to change that.

Still, having a chance to focus on family, junk food and stupid card games was at least beginning to alleviate some of the tension in the room. By the time day rolled into night, the laughter they shared together felt that much more genuine, and Alex was even able to goad Kara into a very competitive, high-stakes game of Trivial Pursuit.

Brainy and Nia won, not like the room stood much of a chance against a twelfth-level intellect who had also taken the opportunity of studying even more pop-culture references since his stint in 2009. But, with the alcohol running through everyone’s systems, the match had been closer than any one before it.

Eventually though, it was time for the Super Friends to head home for the evening. Well, everyone apart from Alex. She’d been pretty clear from the moment game night had been proposed that there was no way in hell she was leaving her sister alone that night.

If anything, Kara had seemed relieved at the idea. Alex knew she was still processing everything that had happened, but the horrors of that place were still fresh on her mind. Maybe she hadn’t been alone, maybe she had found family along the way, but that didn’t take from the awful things Kara had witnessed, even with her father at her side.

Alex wasn’t sure what to think of Zor-El quite yet. J’onn had given him a place to crash at the Tower while he gathered his bearings on Earth, and she knew he’d likely be contacting Argo very soon with the news of his survival. Kara hadn’t spoken much about her father since getting back, but then again, she’d spoken so little about her time in the Phantom Zone that Alex didn’t think it strange. She was looking to move past this.

They all were.

Just… moving past it wasn’t going to be as easy as they were hoping for. Kelly was already trying to encourage everyone into a group session to talk things out, although the bottle of wine she’d toted had probably made her sound a little too eager about the idea at the time. In any case, Alex hadn’t missed how Kara had shrunk into the sofa at the suggestion, or how quickly she’d diverted the subject before Kelly had a chance to go into any details.

She’d have to talk to someone eventually, and privately Alex hoped that Kara might let her in. Since Brainy and Nia had gone back in time, Alex couldn’t help but fall back to those years when she’d left Kara behind for college, how anchored she’d still felt to her sister’s life even from miles away. There were times she’d blamed Kara for everything in her life that wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t take from the moments, however small, where things had been just that.

Perfect.

The longer Kara had spent in Midvale, the more she’d opened up about her home world. Alex had found the topic all kinds of uncomfortable at first, serving as yet another reminder that she was responsible for this alien tween that had somehow stumbled into their lives, disturbing her otherwise normal existence. But, Kara had been able to fill every one of her stories about Krypton with such wonder. Even when she hadn’t been fully confident with English, she’d still managed to describe her planet with such passion that Alex could even imagine those great glass spires for herself, could see the vast cities that glimmered in the distance from Kara’s old bedroom window.

Kara had never managed to get through one of those stories without crying.

Alex could still remember clambering over to Kara’s bed in the dead of night, bundling her adopted sister in her arms, expecting it to feel so alien, so wrong. But, it hadn’t. If anything, it had been the most natural thing in the world.

She’d whispered to her then, rocking her, telling her oh so gently that everything would be okay.

Kara had believed her every time.

Now, though?

Now, Alex wasn’t so sure.

Once the party disbanded, neither one of them had the energy to say much to each other, but that didn’t matter. Sharing one another’s space was more than enough. Assuring Kara that she wasn’t alone tonight - that was enough. It had to be.

When Kara headed to bed, Alex set about making herself comfortable on the couch, curling beneath the duvet that Kara had left out for her.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, which only made it all the more alarming when she was suddenly jerked awake some hours later.

Alex’s throat was dry, and there was a crick in her neck where she’d been lying awkwardly across the sofa’s arm. She groaned out, raising her hands in a half-assed defensive stance that would have been way more threatening had she actually had a firearm to grab a hold of and not a medium sized throw pillow.

“Alex?”

Kara’s voice, trailing feebly in the dark. Alex blinked, finding her sister’s bright eyes staring at her in the dim setting of the apartment. Even with no visible source of light, they still managed to shimmer, like tiny beams of sunlight had been captured within her irises.

“Hey,” Alex managed, clearing her throat with some effort. She frowned, reaching for her sister’s arm. “Are you okay?”

Kara’s lips trembled into a weak smile. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted.

“Figures,” Alex said, noting the state of her sister’s hair. It was tied up into a messy bun that had clearly fallen victim to Kara’s violent tossing and turning habit. Alex forced herself into a half decent sitting position, glancing towards the kitchen. “What d’you think, will tea and honey cut it?” she asked, feigning a dramatized yawn. “Or, do we have to pull out the big guns?”

Kara’s smile widened. “Oh, big guns for sure.”

“Hot cocoa it is.” Alex grinned. “You can boil the water.”

---

Ten minutes later, Alex found herself sat on Kara’s bed, legs crossed as she nursed her piping mug of hot cocoa, enhanced with a generous splash of whiskey. Kara did the same, taking a sip before she closed her eyes, leaning her back against the head rest.

“Oh Rao that’s good,” she murmured.

“Y’know, I think I’ve even improved upon mom’s recipe,” Alex mused. “The student becomes the teacher, or whatever.”

“Don’t tell Eliza that, she’ll kill you.”

Alex pulled a face. “God, never. She’ll take that recipe to her grave.”

Kara chuckled, sobering slightly. She pressed her lips together, staring down into her mug. “I missed this,” she murmured. “When I was… trapped there… everything felt so bleak. Like the world was trying to suck the happiness right out of me.” She shuddered, tightening her grip around her mug. “I tried to hold onto happy memories, the taste of my favourite foods, anything that’d keep me grounded. But, the longer I was there, the more I thought I’d never find that happiness again.” She breathed out sharply, forcing a smile. “That I’d never taste hot cocoa again.”

“I can’t imagine what it was like,” Alex said softly. “I mean… we were only there for a few hours and look how badly it affected us. You were there for weeks and I—” Alex choked, shaking her head. “Things got pretty bleak here, too. And, well, let’s just say I didn’t need a Phantom to start losing hope.”

“Alex-”

“It’s not your fault,” Alex said automatically. “So don’t you dare go apologising for this.”

“I- I wasn’t.”

Alex gave her sister a pointed look.

Kara’s face fell. She shifted uncomfortably, drawing her knees up towards her chest. “Okay, maybe… so maybe I was. But- I don’t know what else to say, Alex! I am sorry. Sorry any of this happened. That we lost each other.”

Again.

“We always find our way back,” Alex said firmly, pressing the warmth of her mug against her chin retrospectively. Her lips curled. “That might as well be the Danvers’ sisters motto at this point, right?”

Kara snorted into her own mug. “It’s got a ring to it.”

“We could make t-shirts.”

“Okay, that’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“But you kinda love it, right?”

Kara’s nose crinkled when she grinned, one of those classic Kara smiles. So simple, so easy, as though she wasn’t holding the weight of the world on her shoulders at any given moment.

It didn’t last long, but when Kara looked back up at her, Alex thought that a little of the pain behind her eyes had begun to ease.

Then, Kara yawned.

Alex’s smile faded. “Okay, you really need to get some sleep.”

Kara bit her lip, glancing away. “I know. I just…” She blinked with a sudden revelation, turning back to Alex in the same motion. “Would you stay?” she asked impulsively, patting the sheets at her side. “Here, I mean. While I sleep? Like old times?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Alex said, already scooting over towards the empty space. “Of course I will.”

---

The last time Alex had laid in Kara’s bed, she’d been alone.

When the wound had still been fresh, her heart was so heavy that Alex had needed to feel Kara there with her somehow. She’d used the spare key to get inside, curling up beneath her sister’s sheets, still smelling of Kara’s watermelon shampoo, and hugged her pillow close to her chest, burying her face into the soft cotton.

Now, Kara lay at her side, and yet Alex still had to fight to prove to herself that this was real. That Kara was home.

She hadn’t told anyone about what the Phantom had showed her just yet - not even Kelly. To think how terrified she’d been of not being the first face that Kara saw, that somehow her stubbornness might ruin everything, that to get Kara back, she’d have to sacrifice herself, because it was her job as the older sister. Even when she’d faced those fears, when she’d chosen to let herself go to keep Kara safe, it didn’t take from the horrible all-consuming vacuum that had surrounded her. The unforgiving, ice cold chasm of space that had crushed her body the moment she’d been pulled from the ship’s sheild.

But, when Kara had barrelled through that door, Alex had seen her light at the end of the tunnel. When Kara had wrapped her arms around her, nearly forgetting her own strength, squeezing the breath right out from Alex’s lungs, her fears had all but evaporated alongside it. Instead, she’d only hugged her sister tighter in response, whispering nonsensical reassurances into Kara’s ear as she’d crumpled beneath the weight of everything she’d seen, breathing heavily into Alex’s throat.

Now, Alex ran her fingers through her sister’s hair, tugging the elastic out so that she could knot the blonde strands into loose plaits. She’d taught Kara how to braid her hair in a similar fashion when they’d been kids, playing with her hair for hours in front of the mirror, going through every style she could think of in some of her mom’s old magazines. Alex had never been a big fan of dressing up, but Kara had been so excited to learn about Earth fashion and Alex had been seldom to disappoint.

It wasn’t long before Kara relaxed into the gesture, her back curving against Alex’s chest as she sank deep against her pillow, pressing her face into it with a soft exhale.

Alex didn’t know what kind of nightmares Kara had faced the last time she’d fallen asleep, but she vowed that she’d do everything in her power to give her sister the peace of mind she deserved.

When Kara finally began to doze and soft snores escaped her lips, Alex wrapped her arms around her front, burying her face between her sister’s shoulder blades.

She was warm in her arms, solid and real. Alex could feel every rise and fall in Kara’s chest, could hear the steady rhythm of her pulse beating against her forehead.

The girl of steel had always needed to appear unbreakable to everyone, but what people rarely thought about was how that so often extended even to Kara Danvers. After all, it would be Kara Danvers, not Supergirl, who would be turning up at CatCo in the next few days, pretending as though she’d been out getting the scoop of the century.

No one outside of her family knew what she’d been through, and so none of them would offer her the proper time she needed to heal.

And, as much as it hurt, Alex knew that by tomorrow, Kara would already be flying around National City again, reassuring the world that Supergirl was still there for them all.

But, in small moments like this, Kara could at least let her guard down. She didn’t need to be anyone’s saviour right then. She was Kara Danvers, Kara Zor El. And at the heart of it, she was still Alex’s little sister. No matter what happened, nothing would ever change that.

Maybe she couldn’t protect her sister from whatever tomorrow brought with it, but she could make damn sure that not a single nightmare touched her tonight.

That would have to be enough.

#supergirl #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl season 6 #danvers sisters #kara danvers #alex danvers #kara zor el #6x07 #my writing #this might turn into a whole fic for mini chapters surrounding a bunch of character interactions in the aftermath of 6x07 #mostly because i rEALLY want to explore every angle of that SO. BAD.#so. if i do get the time for it stay tuned i guess.

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years ago

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Reference material

Synopsis: While in Hyougo, looking for inspiration for your company’s upcoming fashion chain, you end up meeting some of the former Karasuno and Inarizaki volleyball team members with whom you sit together and recollect.

So how did this seemingly innocent get-together end up with you having former captain Kita and former Libero Nishinoya try out some thigh-flattering clothes?

tags/warnings: suggested Kita x reader x Nishinoya ✅ thigh appreciation/marking/biting ✅ some Kita in a skirt towards the end ✅

A/N: my first and slightly delayed contribution to The Church of Meian’s Thigh July collab! I originally planned to do this scenario for one of the boys but got swayed by the church’s babes to do both, so here it is! (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ Hope you enjoy and please make sure to check everyone else’s delicious works out as well! ♥️

.wc 4.6k

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Your heart was thumping hard against your chest as you nervously fiddled with your fingers and looked around your living room. You were so skittish that even the smallest sound made you jump and fixate your vision towards the door of your guest room. After taking a deep breath you tried to let your thoughts wander away from the two men that were just beyond the door you were facing.

How did we even end up in this situation…?

Just this morning you’d arrived in Hyougo per your boss’ request to look for inspiration for your new fashion collection. You wandered for hours, observing farmers, workers, students, and whatnot until you decided to take a much-deserved lunch break, and since you were in the home country of the renowned Miya twins, what place was best suited for a short break than Onigiri Miya?

The moment you’d entered the small and humbly decorated shop, you were greeted by the owner himself and his former volleyball team’s captain Kita. While you exchanged the typical greetings with both men, the blond twin came down from the upper floor and, much to Osamu’s chagrin, joined in on your conversation. Just as you and Kita were about to leave and go back to your respective plans the front door was practically kicked open by a short young man and his two companions.

“Well, I’ll be damned…if it ain’t Karasuno’s libero, ace, and moral cheerleader, what’s got ya so far away from Tokyo?” asked Atsumu in a slightly condescending tone. But before anyone could even comment on that, Nishinoya, who most likely didn’t even hear what the man before him said, spread his arms out and happily suggested that you all stay together and recollect over some delicious onigiri.

Thanks to everyone’s enthusiasm, you got roped into it as well and ended up being surrounded by several young men who happily jugged one beer after the other and argued about who gets to eat the last piece of meat.

Fortunately for you, you weren’t the only one that had decided to keep their hands off of alcohol. Nishinoya and Kita had both preferred to stay sober in case something were to happen.

The time flew by and before you’d noticed the group had started to disperse. Asahi, who was surprisingly sober enough to support Sugawara, had gotten up first, excusing himself and his friend, saying that they had to get up early tomorrow in order to catch their flight back to Tokyo. Minutes later Osamu decided to single-handedly put a stop to Atsumu’s flirtatious behavior to which you’d fallen prey to, so he simply threw his brother over his shoulder, apologized to you three, and asked you to simply turn the “OPEN” sign around when you left as he carried the wiggling man back upstairs.

“Alright then…I think it’s time for me to leave as well” announced Kita with a small smile as he started preparing himself. With a firm nod, the young man next to him followed suit and you were about to do the same when an idea popped into your head.

“You two live quite far away, right?” you asked as you pointed your finger to Noya who nodded, telling you that the motel he stayed at was almost an hour away, then you directed your finger to the captain who confirmed that his house was situated at a very remote part of Hyougo.

“Then how about you guys stay over at my hotel room? It’s just a walk away from here and thanks to my boss it’s big enough to accommodate an entire volleyball team and its substitutes.”

Both boys couldn’t help but giggle at the metaphor you’d used and despite the small fear of inconveniencing you, they yielded eventually.

Everything was going smoothly at first, you brought them over, showed them around, discussed where they wanted to sleep, and even had some time to sit down and continue your chat from before, but then Kita, as conscious as he was, just couldn’t let your generosity go unpaid.

“(Y/N), I appreciate ya going to such lengths to help us out, but I can’t let this sit on me like that. Please tell me what ya’d like us to do as compensation.”

From the exaggerated way he talked, one would think that you had done some kind of heroic act and his words were unfortunately inspiring enough for Nishinoya to start demanding the same.

And just like that the two of them had backed you into a corner. You were so overwhelmed that you didn’t know what to tell them so that they were satisfied, but then your eyes caught a glimpse of a red suitcase you had tucked away under the sofa.

“I…I think I know how you can repay me” you silently announced as your hand reached for the object. Both men remained silent as they waited for your terms.

“You see…the reason I’m here is that I was asked to look for inspiration for our company’s upcoming fashion collection and uh…how should I put this…?” Your internal struggle was obvious and the fact that your cheeks were flushed told the men that whatever you were about to ask wasn’t easy for you, so to take some of your nervousness away, Noya placed one of his hands on top of your and with his other one he gave you a thumbs up.

“W-Would you two be willing to try on some of these clothing pieces and model for me?”

The silence that followed made you anxious and you immediately regretted uttering that question, preparing yourself for a rejection, but before you could take it back Kita giggled, followed by a heart-warming laugh from the former Libero.

“So that’s all? Why are you even hesitating on asking us to model for you?” The nonchalance with which both of them reacted to your request was truly unexpected. While you still tried to process this turn of events, the suitcase was taken from your grasp and the men retreated to the guest room to change into the clothes you’d prepared for them…

And here you were, waiting for them for almost 15 minutes. Your nervousness was partially to blame because you couldn’t quite tell them what kind of clothes you’d tucked away in that red rectangular container and the fact that they were in that room for an unnatural amount of time made you wonder whether they’d given it up.

N-No, calm down! They most likely h-have some difficulties with fitting into the garments, si–

…no wait…didn’t boss give me the medium ones…?

While you panicked internally, you failed to notice the two men that slowly exited the room in front of you and with slow steps closed in on you.

“(Y/N)?”

“W-We finished changin’.”

Their soft voices finally caught your attention, making you instinctively look up and the first thing that you noticed was their legs.

Kita had chosen the pair of black latex jeans while Noya had settled for the leather ones. With wide eyes, you take in the view before you. The two defense specialists, whose thighs were so well-toned, were wearing such tight and figure-enhancing pants that you just couldn’t help but stare at their lower bodies.

Being stared at was nothing new for these two, but the way your beautiful and big eyes were fixated on them just because of some unnatural wear, made their cheeks heat up and redden ever so slightly.

“Sooo should we turn or strike some kind of pose?” asked the brown-haired young man with his usual big grin. Before answering him you had to swallow first and then proceeded by affirming his question.

”I need to design something that brings out the wearer’s thighs, s-so if you could…bend forward, kneel or something of that sort, i-it might help.“

A word and a blow, not even a second passed and you watched as the men before you started to arrange themselves in rather compromising positions. The libero went back a few steps, now facing the couch, raised his left knee, and placed it on the armrest. Kita, on the other hand, moved closer to the soft rug next to you, got on his knees, and though a little challenged by the tightness of his jeans, he stretched his left leg back, while he bent his right one at a 90-degree angle before him.

When they were ready, their eyes darted to you, eagerly awaiting your comment or reaction. You cleared your throat and nodded a few times before praising them for the fitting poses.

Having two men dressed in these rather kinky garments excited you more than initially expected. The urge to go up to them and get more touchy-feely than necessary grew with each passing second you stared at them, until you decided to blame whatever you were about to do on that one glass of alcohol you had drunk some hours ago.

You walked towards the captain and intentionally circled him a few times at a slow pace. You knew fully well that this pose was difficult to maintain for a long time, but the moment you saw the slight tremble of his legs, you just couldn’t help yourself.

“Kita-san, please try to stand still.”

“Forgive me (Y/N), it’s just–”

“Give me your hands” you suddenly ordered, interrupting whatever he was about to say. He did as told and placed both of his hands in yours, slightly squeezing them for additional support. With a small smile, you explained what you were about to do and asked him whether he could manage to hold his balance for at least a couple more minutes. It took the young man a few seconds to answer, but he was set on repaying you so a little strain was a small price for your kindness.

You took a deep breath and slowly lifted your hands, causing Kita to raise his own and with them the fabric of his white shirt, revealing the high waist of the latex jeans.

Oh god…I knew it

“Please hold this position for a little and try to move as little as possible, I’ll have to touch you a couple of times to…to get a better grasp of the material and its effects on your body, ok?”

“G-Got it” answered the captain in a silent voice and closed his eyes. You unobtrusively bit your lower lip as you squat down and gently placed your hands on the man’s waist, an unexpected gesture that managed to educe a surprised gasp from the young man. This trousers’ waist, which was covering the entire abdominal area until it stopped a little over the navel, was designed the same way as a corset, meaning it had ribbons on both sides where your hands now were and an entire row of beautifully designed buttons running down to where his underwear probably began.

You slowly moved his shirt up and savored the sight of his slightly trembling abdominal muscles, then continued down to his thighs, his delicious thighs. If you thought the tremble of his tummy was satisfying to look at then ready yourself for something even better. The way he tensed his muscles up every time your fingers trailed his body, combined with his reddened cheeks and slightly heavy breathing made you want to tease him even more and you did.

“Ok Kita-san I want you to let yourself fall back as slowly as you can and when you’re lying on your back, please stretch out both of your legs so that your soles point to the ceiling” you commanded while you hooked your arm behind his back for the additional support he needed to perform the thing you asked of him. If it weren’t for your hand that didn’t let up even once from his left thigh, his movements might have been a tad more elegant.

After almost a minute you had the young man on his back with his legs outstretched, just as you wanted…but was this enough?

“Please don’t be surprised, but I have to…step on you”

“Wha–”

Kita’s wide brown eyes looked up at you in embarrassment as he felt your foot gently push against the back of his thigh. His hand immediately darted to both his mouth and your leg, but before his trembling fingers could reach you, you began moving your foot ever so slightly from one side to the other, enjoying how pleasant the plush skin beneath your sole felt. You’d lost yourself for a second and failed to notice just how close your foot was to the man’s most sensitive area and if it weren’t for the silent mewl that reached your ear, you most likely would’ve stepped on it as well.

In a slight panic, you set down the former captain’s legs and helped him sit upright.

“I-Is that enough (Y/N)..?” he then asked in a silent voice as he tried to look away from both you and Nishinoya, attempting to hide his flushed cheeks and the small tears in the corner of his eyes. You would’ve loved to go even further but seeing him that disheveled forced you to give him a break, at least while you were busy with the other boy behind you.

The two of you watched as the young man retreated into the guest room on wobbly legs. You sighed to yourself, your conscience nagging you with questions such as why you had to go so far and what you were even thinking, and just as you were about to sit back down on the floor Noya’s cheerful voice chirped in: “And, what am I supposed to do?”

When your eyes focused on the shorter man you saw him strike his earlier pose once again with a satisfied grin on his face. Looking at him genuinely enjoying himself made you smile and you wondered whether he’d be able to hold out more than the man before him.

“Could you…step on me?”

He was quite taken aback by your question and his slightly flushed cheeks let on that he was more embarrassed by your request than he might’ve expected. It didn’t take him long to agree though, which in turn caught you off guard.

As he slowly closed the distance between you two, you used this opportunity to take a better look at the pair of jeans he’d picked out. In contrast to Kita’s, Nishinoya’s were made out of leather. They seemed looser and if it weren’t for the laces that were tied around his thighs, up until they reached the area a little above his knees, you were sure that they wouldn’t have fit him. Additionally to this little perk, the designer had chosen to cut from the leg opening up to the middle of the wearer’s shins and then cord it, similarly as most sneakers, making this particular set of trousers more skin-revealing than the former one you “inspected”.

The moment the man was finally in front of you, he didn’t lose any more time than necessary and immediately asked where he should put his foot. With a satisfied smile, you explained that your shoulder was the main goal, but if the laces were too tightly bound then he could set his foot down lower, on your chest for example.

You watched as the young man slowly raised his left leg and as carefully as he could positioned it right between your neck and shoulder. Thanks to the slight tremble of his foot it was easy for you to tell that he didn’t put his entire weight on you, most likely out of fear of injuring you. A small grin adorned your lips as you moved your shoulder a bit and watched Noya freak out and almost lose his balance and fall down. Luckily for him, your reactions were quicker than his and you had taken a tight hold of his leg and hips, supporting him as well as making sure that he didn’t ruin his position. But now, thanks to your little escapade, he was forced to lean on you, so except having one hand on your shoulder and the other on your head, his crotch was dangerously close to your face.

“Um…(Y/N)? C-Can I just redo the pos–“

“Don’t move…this is perfect!”

Confused by your sudden enthusiasm, the young man took a glance down at you and saw how intensely you started at both his thighs and groin. Not wanting to embarrass himself any further, Noya copied the man before him and closed his eyes, giving you the freedom of doing whatever you wanted yet again.

You didn’t want to admit it, but there wasn’t a better way this could’ve worked out. Not only were you able to see how the tightly bound laces made some of his flesh bulge out in between them, but also how these pants had neither a button nor a zipper, and the wearer had to make use of the strings, that circled their thighs, to steady them. You slowly opened your mouth and bit the end of the laces, tugging on them slightly.

“W-Wait, if you do that then-!”

With a smile plastered on your face, you loosened the bow just enough that only the knot remained and murmured: “Sorry, had to make sure that such flashy trousers were sturdy enough to withstand a feline’s possible attack.”

A weak excuse which’s logic he first had to comprehend while you made use of his confused state in order to place your hands on his buttocks and squeeze them as much as the fabric allowed you to. While your hands kneaded his firm buttcheeks, you rubbed your cheek on his thigh, explaining that you and to test whether this design was comfortable for pets. You remained that way for a couple of minutes and softly kissed the young man’s trained leg before slapping his ass a few times, and finally allowing him to stand by himself.

To escape any uncomfortable questions from him, you quickly reached for the notepad you’d placed on top of the decorative table close to you and started scribbling down some nonsense, giving off the impression that whatever you were doing right now was truly work-related and not simply for your own pleasure. Only when you heard the door to the guest room shut behind him did you look up, burying your face in your hands not short after.

Just what am I doing, using them like that…?

Your excuse of using them as reference material was somewhere true, but stepping on Kita and kneading Nishinoya’s ass were not necessary advances you’d done only for the sake of satisfying your curiosity.

Left alone with your guilt, you waited for another ten minutes wondering once more what took them so long. As far as you remember, your boss had only put in these two sets of trousers and two other special items he refused to elaborate on further, telling you to find out for yourself. Now that you thought back, you remembered the pervy grin your boss had shot you after mentioning the suitcase and its mysterious contents, and you couldn’t help but be curious as to what the two men were about to put on and present you.

Speak of the devil, not even a second after you’d formulated your thought and the door opposite of you cracked open as the two young men slowly walked out.

I’m done for…

Before you stood the former Inarizaki captain with what looked like to be a schoolgirl’s skirt and fishnet tights, next to him Karasuno’s legendary guardian of the backcourt with overknee black stockings that he’d attached to his black boxer shorts with the help of a leather garter belt.

Saying that you were at a loss for words was an understatement, this was absolutely jaw-dropping. Now that their legs were almost entirely exposed you just had to come up with some type of irrefutable excuse that would make it possible for you to not only touch their bare skin but also taste it.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and covered your mouth with your hand, giving them the impression that you were lost deep in your thoughts when in reality you tried to hide your blushing cheeks.

“Ok before I do anything, I need to ask you guys if…if you can deal with pain” you began and observed how they looked at each other and then slowly nodded.

In order to make up for your earlier teasing, you decided to directly tell them what you were planning this time, instead of keeping them in the dark.

“I need to test something out…you see, with such revealing pieces of clothing the buyers often focus on how good pantyhose such as these can hide markings or injuries, s-so I need to mark your thighs as reference” you paused and gave them a couple of seconds to process the explanation you’d offered them before continuing, “the way I want to mark you guys, will have to be with…my teeth. Usually, we’d use a marker or makeup, but neither of those would produce good results with these particular choices of material, especially Nishinoya’s might pose a bigger problem than the ones on Kita-san.”

While you dished out something that sounded professional enough to convince them, you were surprised at yourself and your creativity concerning these white lies. The moment you’d wrapped up your monologue you intended to give them some space so that they could think it over, but much to your surprise, they were quicker on board than expected.

“Are you two s-sure? I mean…I’m asking to bite your thighs here, you know?”

Nishinoya put both his hands on his hips and puffed his cheeks out as he answered: “Yeah so what of it? It won’t be the first time my thighs end up bruised.”

“I agree n’ more than that, we promised to do anythin’ to repay ya, remember?” added Kita with a small smile.

Yes of course…anything to repay me, huh?

The captain’s last few words left a bitter feeling behind, but you shoved it aside and figured that both of them most likely used that excuse to fulfill their own fantasies, just like you did, so in a sense you guys were even, right?

You focused on their legs once more and decided to start with Nishinoya first, so you commanded him to slowly remove the garter belt on his right leg, but the moment his nimble fingers had taken a hold of the leather you immediately stopped him.

“It might be better if someone who has no experience with it takes it off…Kita-san, please undo it for him.”

A small nod that represented said man’s answer was all you got before he got on one knee and started undoing the accessory. You had to admit that the older man’s overly gentle and careful way of loosening the small buckle warmed your heart, but regarding the entire picture, namely Kita in a skirt, kneeling, which caused the fishnet pattern around his legs to dig into his skin, making the plush of his thighs stick out, while Nishinoya stood above him in nothing but a shirt, boxers, and of course, the black stockings that perfectly hugged his toned legs, made your heart thump harder against your chest with each passing second.

Kita whispered a silent done and got back on his feet as he gently unclipped the garter belt from the libero’s briefs, letting it fall along the perfect curves of the young man’s leg. With a small nod, Noya readied himself for you and tried to somehow position his arms so that they don't get in your way.

You copied the white-haired young man before you, kneeling and softly rolling down the black fabric, exposing some of his slightly tanned skin. With your right hand, you steadied his hips, minimizing his movements, and with your left, which you hooked under his thigh, you were now able to turn or raise it the way you needed. To avoid a similar fall from before, you asked if the captain could support Nishinoya, which he affirmed and got behind him, taking a hold of his hands and whispering something that sounded like I’m here, don’t be afraid, I got you.

God, these two…

You turned the young man’s leg in such a way that the inner side of his thigh was facing you and slowly let your teeth sink in his flesh, gradually hardening your bite until it almost pierced his skin. Millimeters before you could draw blood, you stopped and let your tongue glide along the marks you left behind. Without moving yourself too much, you simply turned his leg a little to the side and once again planted your mouth on his still flawless skin, but this time you gently clamped a portion of his flesh between your teeth, started sucking on it until it reddened and finally took on a bluish-purple tone, only then did you let up completely, licked your lips and looked up. The young man above you was leaning on Kita’s shoulder, panting slightly, and looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. You swallowed audibly, rolled the black fabric back up, and gently patted his thigh as a form of release. While he recomposed himself, you took a step back and looked at what you’d accomplished. The bite mark you’d left behind on his inner thigh was barely visible, the hickey on the other hand was quite eye-catching.

You once again grabbed the notebook and scribbled something in it while Kita praised the young man with a rather awkward smile and tried to prepare himself mentally next for what was about to come.

At first, you confirmed the former captain’s readiness, then proceeded to ask Nishinoya for support this time, and finally offered your upper leg for him as some kind of footstep for him to step on, just so you could see his flesh stick out from the rhombus-shaped patterns of his stockings and poke at them for a short while. You asked him questions such as whether he felt uncomfortable or if it hurt when the string-like material pressed down on his skin, only when he answered these questions negatively did you place your hand on his leg, moved closer, and bit down on his stockings, tearing them easily with your bare teeth. That unexpected action of yours successfully managed to make the young man take a deep breath and cause him to hold on tighter to Noya’s hands.

At this point, you couldn’t even bother to come up with an excuse and simply started biting down on the exposed skin. You were so lost in observing how the teeth marks and hickeys you left behind gradually darkened, that only when Kita placed his hand on top of your head did you look up to see his cheeks redder than before and a small smile adorning his lips.

You gave the injuries you’d inflicted a gentle kiss and once again returned to scribbling in the notebook.

“How long do ya plan on keepin’ that fake writin’ up?”

The sudden question caught you off guard, causing you to stop writing mid-stroke.

“W-What…?”

With wide eyes, you looked at both men who started at you with their mesmerizing sharp eyes.

Nishinoya extended his hand towards you with a smile and said: “I’m sure you still need more references for your designs, right? So just come over here and do whatever you’d like…”

…we still have to properly pay you back after all

And with that, you finally dropped the notebook, and your act along with it. Now that you were aware of their true intentions and feelings there was no need for you to hold back anymore.

A few more experiments weren’t going to harm anyone, right?

Since all of this was for the upcoming fashion chain…right?

It’s not like you’d planned all of this out beforehand…

…right?

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu kita #haikyuu nishinoya #hq x reader #hq scenarios #hq kita #hq nishinoya #the church of meian #church of meian collab #thigh july #━𝙷𝚀

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plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms · 4 years ago

Text

Those Linked by Destiny (1)

Summary: Bucky, Sam, and Natasha are on a mission to once again defeat Hydra who this time had opened a time portal that unleashed monsters and beasts that were extinct for centuries for good reason. On the way, they try to recruit the only remaining person who had any knowledge on how to defeat these creatures. Her kind also almost extinct. A Witcher.

Fandoms: Avengers, The Witcher

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Witcher!OFC (Female)

Warnings: Angst (coz this is me), Dry Dark Humour, Violence, Gore, Lots of Blood, Burning Sarcasm, Lots of Cussing

A/N: Hello, beautiful creatures! I’m back with a new hurricane of a crossover. This continues on from my completed series There’s More Than One Way To Start An Apocalypse (AvengersxSupernatural) but this can be read by itself. I made this an OFC instead of an xReader since I needed to be specific with how the Witcher character looked. I hope you enjoy and I welcome all kinds of feedback.

No permission is granted to repost my work. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Masterlist

1: Returning a Favor

The sun was preparing to set when Sam, Bucky, and Natasha reached the small sleepy town. Their clothes were starting to scratch and bite at their skin from the sweat and grime of trying to make it to their destination on foot. They had been taking back roads and keeping to thick forests to keep hidden from Hydra and the monsters they had unleashed. It hasn't always gone smoothly for them.

The Avengers and Team Free Will had split up to tackle three major missions; hunting down every remaining grace powered monster created by the Archangel Michael, re-establishing the Avengers initiative and operations, and this new unfamiliar threat. They had discovered that Hydra was back and had opened a portal that unleashed creatures that were wholly unknown to even the Hunters.

The trio was tasked with gathering as much intel as they could and searching for a friend of Natasha and the Nephilim who they said was the only person who could help them. It had taken them eight months to track down someone who was practically a ghost.

They were all on edge and nearly losing hope, but finally they got a lead on an exact location. It took nearly two weeks to reach the town after a particularly nasty encounter with a cluster of monsters. They were outnumbered and had no knowledge about the enemy to even properly fight. They barely made it out alive.

Sam sat on the forest floor with his back to the trunk of a tree clutching his open abdomen. He was bleeding on the grass and the first aid they had been continuously applying on him was the only thing keeping him alive at this point. They needed to get him patched up properly. Bucky switched his legs to lean more on his left as he crouched behind thick shrubbery beside Natasha. Judging by the sharp pain from his other leg, he was sure it was broken. The female assassin wasn't any better off having taken multiple large slashing wounds to her back.

Bucky suggested that they go back to Avengers headquarters. It was Natasha though that insisted this is where they needed to go. They needed to lie low, heal, regroup, and find backup, but they were running out of time. The more time Hydra was left alone, the worse it was going to get. Bucky was skeptical, especially with Sam clinging on to his life, but he knew that Natasha was in fact right.

In front of them was a medium sized log cabin tucked away in the forest with a garden and a small greenhouse out back. Bucky's enhanced senses could pick up common vegetables and herbs like tomatoes, carrots, and basil, but he also caught whiffs of plants that smelled like exotic flowers of some sort. The house was still fairly close to town with only a 45-minute drive but it was miles away to the next house.

The serene silence of the isolated area was disrupted by peels of laughter from a group of children that were running around the garden. Their hands and clothes were stained with either paint or dirt. Some more gleeful that they had both. Bucky frowned.

Were they supposed to seek shelter in a daycare?

The children would surely be scarred for life if they saw the Falcon bleeding out nevermind who his two companions were. His worry for his friend’s wellbeing clouded the Sergeant’s capability to grasp why this was where they needed to be.

The slow crunch of tires on the dirt road followed by two soft beeps disrupted Bucky's tired brooding. A mini bus parked beside a weathered brown truck in the driveway. A woman came out the back door clutching a child, that was practically a baby with how small it was, securely to her chest. Bucky couldn't see her face, only her slender figure and the wavy hair that fell down her back in a mess of random pastel colors that seemed to be popular with the youth these days. Her short yellow sun dress flowed with each movement she made.

Bucky's doubts at Natasha's plan grew. How could this hipster possibly help them? The low groan of pain from behind reminded him that they had no choice at this point. They were here now and Sam needed urgent medical attention. He would just have to trust Natasha a bit more.

He watched as she instructed the children to put away their art materials and wash up. He watched as she hugged or petted each beaming child as they boarded the mini bus. He watched as she carefully strapped in the baby in his designated seat while exchanging conversation with the middle aged driver who smiled warmly at her. He still couldn't see her face, but he could hear her laugh at something the driver said. After a final wave the bus full of energetic children started to pull out of the driveway.

Bucky's doubts continued to gnaw at him, but now for a different reason. This woman seemed so kind and carefree. Must they really disturb her peaceful life for their chaos? He turned then to voice his worries to Natasha, but before he could get a word out he felt an unbelievably strong force hit his chest and propel him backwards. He was forcefully pinned to a tree with the air knocked clear out of his lungs.

His first instinct was to fight back, but opening his eyes after the attack he froze when he met with the most peculiar yet mesmerizing pair. Round almond shaped and framed with thick heavy lashes were eyes the color of bright molten gold with irises in dark slits like that of a cat's. He would swear they were contacts if he didn't notice how they stretched and dilated as they retained their murderous gaze on him. Her hair fell like a cloud around her face softening her sharp bone structure and the snarl on her gloss covered lips.

So enthralled was Bucky at her unique features, that it took him an embarrassingly long time to register the double bladed axe she held easily with one hand outstretched flush against the skin of his throat. One small flick of her wrist and Bucky would be bleeding to his death in minutes.

"Why have you brought him here, Natasha?" she said, her voice even and low. Bucky noticed a European accent but he couldn't quite place which particular area.

"You know me?" Bucky met her unfaltering glare with his own.

"Everyone knows you, Winter Soldier," she sneered. "Everyone knows all of you."

Bucky scowled at the name. He didn't appreciate the tone she had when she said it. There was an obvious disdain and anger in her tone that he wasn't sure was warranted.

"Easy, Prima. We need your help," Natasha tried to coax her but she did not advance in case she gets provoked.

"And if I refuse?"

"Well then I'm cashing in that favor."

There was a long tense silence before his throat was reluctantly freed. He rubbed the shallow angry line it had left. The woman with cat-like eyes sighed as she swung the large weapon to hook over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. She rolled her eyes before she turned and gestured for you all to follow.

Bucky noted how Natasha's shoulders sagged in relief. She was worried that her contact might decline. They each took one of Sam's sides and practically hauled his barely conscious form to the cabin. They followed the woman into her home, the receding skyline bouncing light and shadow on her figure. It wasn't even ten minutes ago that Bucky was hesitant to disrupt this woman's very normal life, but normal people don't just carry battle axes let alone have the skill to wield it.

"Natasha," he whispered. "What exactly is she?"

Natasha had told them a little about Witchers in between dashing from town to town, but it amused Prima that Bucky was still thoroughly surprised when they actually met her. Clearly she didn't go into the specifics.

He could hear the smirk in her tone despite still having her back to them. She had heard his hushed question despite walking far ahead of them and decided to answer.

"Perhaps we can discuss my nature when your friend is no longer seeping Water Hag poison from his wounds."

"So that's what that thing was. How do you know it's Water Hag poison?" Natasha grunted under Sam's weight.

"I can smell it and that's the only reason I'm granting you this favor."

Prima rushed inside her home ahead of her guests, going quickly to the kitchen to pull out a large tarpaulin from under the sink. She was definitely going to help them but that didn't mean she was going to damn well leave an Avenger to bleed all over her precious furniture.

She opened the chest that doubled as a coffee table and pulled out thick worn blankets. She was already laying these out on the floor by the fireplace by the time the rest of them came through the front door.

Bucky surveyed the room as he entered. It was a force of habit to commit every detail to memory when entering a new environment. Normally it could mean life or death, but in this instance it was pure curiosity with a healthy mix of suspicion.

From the outside, the cabin had looked a decent size but from the inside it looked much bigger. He thought that perhaps it was too much space for someone he presumed was living alone.

The house was a mixture of modern and rustic decorated in wood, metal, and splashes of vibrant color here and there. A gray short hair cat perked up in attention from its bedding as they entered. The main floor was open with no walls dividing areas and a set of stairs led to a spacious loft that again had no partitions. Large windows lined the walls providing an almost 360 degree view to the outside. It was almost like being in a glass box, but he knew for a fact that those windows were heavily tinted outside providing the utmost privacy. The state of the home told Bucky a lot about its owner.

"Lay him down here," Prima said pointing to the makeshift cot. "It's best he is by the fire. We need to keep him warm."

Natasha and Bucky gently laid down their friend as instructed. Sam groaned as the material pressed on his injuries and Natasha made quick work of cutting him out of his ruined tactical gear with her knife. His body relaxed the slightest bit after being freed but this also meant that his wounds opened again to spill more of his blood on the tarpaulin.

"It's worse than I thought," Prima murmured. "Take this and apply pressure to the worst of it. I must prepare a few things."

Natasha nodded as she took the towels from her. She rushed through the back door and from its opening, Bucky could see that she went straight into her greenhouse. She was back within minutes carrying a small woven tray filled with plants he couldn't even begin to identify. The cat followed closely on her heels, the small bell on its neck ringing softly.

She headed straight for the other end of the room to what he initially thought was a library and craft area. Looking at it closely now he could see not only books but a wide array of jars, bottles, and small boxes. She grabbed two containers from the shelves and dropped its contents into a wooden bowl. She began mashing and mixing them together quickly before pouring the strange yellowish liquid into glass vials. She grabbed a few more bottles from the shelves before making her way to kneel by Sam's head.

"Help me sit him up. He needs to drink this."

"I'm not sure about this, Nat," came Bucky's worried tone as he eyed their host with narrowed eyes.

"Bucky!" Nat warned. They didn't have time for this.

"What the hell is even in that?"

"Sergeant Barnes, would you like me to educate you on the finer points of alchemy before or after we save your dying friend?" Prima argued, her jaw clenching. "Clock is ticking, Sergeant. The choice may well be taken from you soon."

Bucky's teeth gritted together as his whole body tensed with the decision. His brow was in knots, but ultimately he knew there was only one decision to make. He cursed under his breath but moved to heave Sam into a sitting position.

Prima uncorked one of the bottles and tipped it over Sam's lips carefully making sure that he took every drop. His face scrunched at the taste but his eyes remained closed, too exhausted to open them. His breathing started to speed up until they were shallow huffs and his temperature steadily rose.

"What the hell's happening to him?" Bucky fumed but Prima held out her hand to halt him as she carefully watched Sam's reactions with her strange cat eyes that were now narrowed into slits.

The air in the room was thick with tension and the only sounds were that of Sam's heavy breathing that was rapidly growing more laborious. When it seemed like he was at the height of his torment, Prima acted fast and shoved a second vial of clear liquid to his lips. He almost choked on the liquid but by some grace of the gods he managed to swallow it all.

After the last drop had gone down his throat, his eyes shot wide open before fluttering close as he dropped unconscious against the pillows. Bucky panicked when he couldn't hear his heartbeat and was about to lash out at Prima again when suddenly a faint thump that was fighting to get steadier met his ears in a manner that was uniquely stubborn like Sam.

Prima took a hand to feel his sweaty face and was relieved to find that his temperature was dropping closer to normal. They were past the worst of it now and she was grateful he took well to the potions. It was a gamble. Humans were not meant to take in Witcher brews. She could have just as easily killed him.

"He should be fine by morning. We must allow the potions do the work for now. I'll keep watch in case he needs another dose."

She grabbed one of the other bottles in her stash and tossed one to Natasha who easily caught it. The assassin raised a quizzical brow at her.

"Take only a small sip, Natasha. Pour the rest of it in the bath upstairs and take a long soak. It should help close up your wounds. You are welcome to rummage through my drawers for clean clothes."

"What happens if she takes more?" Bucky asked.

"Well all her injuries and even scars from her childhood will cease to exist. Every broken bone and illness will be cured," she shrugged as she relaxed against a wall stretching out her legs in front of her. She closed her eyes to allow the tension of the last hour to ease off her body as she absentmindedly stroked the cat that had now curled up contentedly beside her.

"That doesn't sound so bad," Natasha mused before carefully taking only the small sip she recommended.

"And then you die," the Witcher chuckled allowing a sharper than usual canine to peak out from her smile.

Bucky was not amused despite Natasha chuckling at the comment before making her way up the stairs. He was understandably wary of anything chemical to be put inside his body after what Hydra had done to him. Their host seemed to somehow sense this so made no move to offer him any concoction for his injuries.

"Bathroom's through the door behind you should you fancy a shower, Sergeant. There should be clothes in the cupboards too but they might be a tad tight. I'll go into town in the morning to purchase more appropriate wear for you and your friend. First aid kit is under the sink."

Bucky gave a small nod as he silently walked to the door she gestured to. As he meticulously washed the dirt and fatigue from his body, he found his thoughts straying to their unusual host. He had realized that her accent was classic old European, with the kind of vocabulary that prim and proper upper-class citizens used. What did not make sense though was how a European socialite would have the practiced ease of wielding a battle axe. Her cat eyes alone tipped him off that she was not merely human. The more he thought about it, the more everything he knew so far contradicted with each other. He was no closer to figuring her out when he stepped out of the bathroom adjusting the shirt and jeans that clung to him.

He saw the Witcher sound asleep on the floor, her head lolled to the side and her mouth softly parted. There were a million questions he wanted to ask her, but he couldn't bring himself to disrupt her peaceful sleep. He instead made his way to crash on the sofa. Sleep came to him as soon as his head met the arm rest. He drifted off with the Witcher's eerie eyes the last on his mind and a nagging feeling that there was something about her that was strangely familiar to him.

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milstrim · 4 years ago

Text

There is Good in the Dark

Chapter 2---Ever Had an Itch?

AO3 Link

Peter shifted nervously, eyes glancing around in suspicion as he pulled his hood tighter over his head and adjusted the bag looped over his shoulder. His hair had been on end all day, leaving him horribly tired and weary as he'd scoped out a few SHIELD buildings. Tony had said that he'd be doing the same for Squadron Tower, and the teenager had believed him, but he'd seen the billboards while he'd been swinging around the city.

'Elusive Supervillain Iron Man Strikes Against the Squadron Supreme in Manhattan!'

Because of course he'd gone after the Squadron. Peter wasn't sure if the fight had been intentional or not, but it still irked him that the older villain hadn't invited him. He could have helped! He was a great fighter--and didn't Tony trust him?

Peter shook himself, crinkling the plastic bag clutched in his hand nervously as he glanced around once more before slipping down the steps of a boarded off subway station. The stairway quickly faded to dusty darkness that would've stumped anyone else but the teenager peered through easily, icy blue eyes glowing in the shadows.

Every footstep was an echo as the teenager stepped over to a dusty, broken down subway train. Only the front of the train and half a carriage were visible from the tunnel. Windows were broken and paint sprayed in illustrative colors that had worn down from the years in the dark. The door to the head of the train was hinged open into its dark, cramped world.

Peter stepped through, grabbing the lever and pulling it down. When he let go it snapped back up, the base of it glowing blue. Peter stabilized himself, shifting on his feet, as the ground underneath him lit up in a bright blue circle. It twisted with a click, shifting and circling down until the train had disappeared and the teenager stood in a cylindrical high tech elevator. It was the color of bleached bones.

The teenager stepped out of the elevator the moment the doors slid open, finally allowing for his hood to fall off in the safety of his home. Well, more of a secret lair, but it was home to Peter nonetheless. For years with his dad.

"Play it again," echoed a voice only his enhanced ears could hear.

Speaking of.

He tiptoed through the halls of his and Tony's underground mansion, searching for where the man was. There was a lot to search. Most of the home shared the same bone white walls and floors, and he always had to screw up his eyes after a few hours at the brightness of it. Arc reactor blue lights lined the shiny pillars and doorways rather than traditional light placement. All in all the place was eerie, not at all homie, but it was still home.

Following the uneven heartbeat of his dad and the muttered muses of discontentment, Peter finally came across the room Tony was in. He stood in front of a wall of holograms, arms crossed and back straight. His leg tapped like it always did when he didn't understand something.

"Again," Tony ordered, unaware of the kid padding up behind him. Peter glanced at the screen disinterestedly before stopping and staring at the figures displayed on it, his eyes narrowing in confusion. It was all of the world's most wanted, save for him and Tony of course, but--weird. Peter didn't really have words to describe them. Stupidly bright, maybe? Clearly, Tony was having the same problem. "Ever had an itch you just can't scratch?"

"I cannot itch, sir, but watching you refuse to sleep is a close second," Friday responded humorously. Peter smiled, but refrained from laughing, placing a finger to his lips and glancing at the ceiling. Thankfully, the AI didn't say anything.

"Keep the attitude up and I'll give you an itch," Tony warned playfully. "Slow the recording down and play--"

"ATTACK!!!" Peter screeched, shooting up from behind Tony and grabbing him in a mock chokehold. The man froze with a rather unvillainous yelp, practically jumping as he shook the kid off and swung around, a gloved hand shooting out. The teenager grinned as Tony went from tense to practically drooping with relief.

"Kid."

"Hey, Dad. How was the Squadron?"

"Peter, please. I have a heart condition."

He stepped forward, shouldering the older man playfully. "I'm not the one who attacked Earth's defenders today."

"I didn't plan on it."

"Didn't really look that way."

"Well, I didn't," Tony protested. He glanced down at the plastic in Peter's hand. "What's with the bag?"

"Oh." Peter glanced down, lifting it higher. "Dinner! I got Japanese. From a place across from the newest SHIELD hideout."

"Did anyone see you?"

"Nope."

"Great."

Tony ruffled his hair, and Peter ducked away with a displeased grin, dashing towards the table that held Tony's headpiece in the middle of reconstruction, clearly having been damaged during his fight today. The boy set the food down, taking out the cartons of fried rice and the sushi. Tony grabbed his own box, picking up a pair of chopsticks and twirling them around elegantly.

"How'd you pay for this?"

Peter stuffed a piece of sushi in his mouth with his fingers. Tony scrunched his nose up at him in playful disgust. "I took your card."

"No stealing?"

"From a local business? We're villains, not bastards."

Tony laughed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you act like one. Don't eat sushi with your hands, you absolute animal."

"I can't figure the chopsticks out! They're too complicated."

"Oh, so you can build a bomb to escape SHIELD when you're ten but you can't eat sushi right?"

"That about sums it up, yeah," Peter quipped, taking a sip from a Gatorade he'd grabbed from a bodega. Tony rolled his eyes humorously. "So what's with the video? Is the Captain joining the US military or something?"

"He does look it," Tony agreed. "But not as far as I know. You know that red stone Mr. Sorcerer-From-Another-Universe has?"

"Uh, yeah? We've been trying to get it for months, Dad. I know what it is."

"Just checking." Peter stuck his tongue out at Tony, who blew a raspberry in response. "Anyway, I hit that thing earlier. It did this."

His adoptive father nodded his head toward the screen. The footage backed up and allowed Peter to watch the recording from the suit as Tony's repulsor blast hit Beck's glowing palm, the red waves that split the sky bursting from it, and the changes that fizzled between the waves. Peter squinted at the screen as the video came to a close.

"What do you think it means?" Peter asked, turning towards the man, who had focused in on the video once more, his face deceptively calculating.

"That's the itch," he pointed out, staring at the screen for another moment. "Quiz Time." Peter groaned, stuffing another piece of sushi in his mouth rebelliously. "Relax your teenage angst, kid, it's not bad. Hulk?"

"Radiation experiment gone wrong," he said immediately as if reading off a flashcard. "An attempt on what made the Captain, well, the Captain, by Bruce Banner. Dr. Banner's gone now that the Hulk's overtaken him. He's not smart, less wanted for villainy and more the destruction he causes and what he can provide militaries. Danger level: High."

"Black Widow."

"Superspy gone rogue. SHIELD tried to contain her but she killed every agent sent her way. No known motives but can take down countries overnight. Danger level: High."

"The Falcon."

"Deranged war hero. Was sent on an unknown suicide mission with his friend, he survived and the friend didn't. Motives are mostly against US military missions--good for him--and warmongering politicians. Danger level: Medium."

"Thor."

"A badass."

Tony gave him a look. "Try again."

Peter sighed. "A Norse God thrown out from his home with a super cool hammer. No known motives, likes to start shit. Danger level: Super-mega-ultra high."

His dad rolled his eyes with a crooked smile. "Hawkeye."

"A circus runaway. SHIELD attempted to recruit him but he betrayed them. Targets SHIELD, gangs, and wherever he can get a quick buck. Danger level: Meh."

"And the Captain."

"The creation of Howard Stark and Dr. Abraham Erskine. He was meant to be the Allies' savior, but he defected to Hydra. He ended up frozen in ice for like a million years before being thawed out by SHIELD and breaking away from Hydra. There's only been three confirmed sightings of him over five years. No known motives. Danger level: High."

"Good job, you passed. Barely."

"Barely!?"

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, waving a finger accusingly. "Stop fanboying over Thor. He could kill you in an instant."

"Pshh. I could take him."

"No you couldn't."

"Or I could just woo him into being my new dad. It worked with you."

Tony gasped, placing a hand over his arc reactor. "You little--" He cut himself off, fake offended. "You're a little shit, I hope you know that."

"I know, Dad," Peter laughed, bumping into him gently. Tony rolled his eyes, graciously pulling the teenager into a half-hug. "So, what are we gonna do about Fashion's Most Wanted?"

"I've got a theory. And a plan."

"Really. A whole plan?"

"Ehhh, 12% of a plan."

Peter huffed, "Fun. When do we start?"

A dark figure was crouched, held tight against a building. A deep black and red shield was clenched on their arm, its shine the only thing visible in the night. Steve Rogers was a professional of stealth, accustomed to the ebony and arctic of the night.

Footsteps echoed in the emptiness of the building, and Steve tensed by the doorway where he was flattened against the dark bricks, his shield at the ready. A shadow in the night, he stood completely still until a figure stepped innocently through the door. Quick as a rattlesnake and silent as a mouse, he struck.

The man toppled. Steve caught him before he thudded to the ground, dragging him across the dirty cement and slipping the SHIELD agent behind a dumpster. He didn't bother to tie him up. Steve knew he'd be quick enough.

The Captain shifted through the doorway, every footstep light, and into the dusty light. As best he could, the soldier stuck to the shadows, thankful for the way the lights dimmed and flickered. The SHIELD building was old, but its information invaluable. The thought of what he might find spurred him forward to where the hallway was even brighter.

People were in that hallway. Two. They talked importantly, voices low, towards Steve. He ducked behind the doorway and out of the yellow light that shone from the hall, drawing his shield off of his forearm with a metallic sheen. He took a step forward, his maroon boot interrupting the golden light and the women's conversation.

They froze, looking up at him in terror before drawing guns from their hips. They didn't catch more than a glimpse of him before he'd thrown the shield. It bounced off the floor and zoomed around the ceiling. The dark red and black took the light with it as it shrouded the hallway in darkness. It returned to Steve seamlessly.

"We know you're there," came a voice. "Show yourself."

Silent, he threw the shield again. There were two thuds against the ground.

Steve dashed through the hall. And he brawled through the building.

Every hallway was the same. Agents, unaware and caught by surprise, left in the darkness and alone as he took the cameras out with his shield as well. Bodies dropped, gunshots flew, and in every room Steve was left unscathed. His reputation--the myth, a whisper, unknown--was well earned.

In barely six minutes, every floor had been cleared. Almost every floor.

The Captain slipped into the hallway of the last floor, leaving the dark and chalky stairway behind. The hallway itself was almost as dark as the stairwell, save for the light that trickled from underneath a closed door. He stalked closer, footsteps light and shield outstretched threateningly. He stopped outside the door and waited, listening to the murmured voices.

"...what was with that energy surge in New York?"

"Nobody knows. News cameras were wiped, all they showed was Iron Man wreaking havoc."

"Smart. A controlled narrative. Then again, that's all the world is now," snipped a voice. Steve furrowed his brows, searching for where he recognized it, but nothing was found. "Any news on the kid?"

"He's been at the fake SHIELD bases in New York, but the illusion's only been up for a few weeks. All things considered, he's been pretty tame. No burglaries or break-ins like the other 'villains.'"

"He knows?"

"We broke free," the woman responded as an answer. Her voice was familiar too.

"We weren't on Earth when it happened," the man argued.

"But the illusion still doesn't affect us while we're here."

"Well, at the very least, whatever happened effects him less than the others."

Steve's thoughts were racing, confused and trying to keep up with uncontextualized conversation. Illusion? Not on Earth? And what kid? Most strangely, his heart gave a painful tug at the mention of Iron Man, and he didn't know why. It almost hurt. Scratch that, it did hurt.

The super soldier shook his head, breaking free of the thoughts. His eyes flashed icy blue. He just had to get what he'd come here for and leave... What had he come here for? He furrowed his brows. There'd been a reason, he remembered he'd cared a lot about it, but now that he was here--the Captain was strangely lost.

He took a step back, hesitated, and then barreled through the door.

The metal hinges crunched underneath his force, creaking and groaning loudly but unable to cover the sound of guns clicking to action. He raised his shield to his face, crouching behind it for a moment as gunfire rained, clinking off of the metal harmlessly. There was a panicked yell of, "Fall back, Fury!!"

Steve threw his shield in the direction of the yell, diving behind a pile of crates at the familiar motion of the vibranium jumping from his forearm. It bounced with a schwing! knocking down the woman and zipping back to him. It sliced into a crate just above him, and he plucked it off of the splintered wood.

A gun cocked. Steve dared a glance around the crates.

The man was tall, dark, and intimidating. The way he held himself told Steve all he needed to know about what he could do, forcing him to duck behind the crates again in caution. He readjusted his shield with two thoughts: This man is dangerous, and, This man is familiar.

He didn't appreciate either of them.

"Steve?" the man dared, his voice hard. "If that's you I swear to God when we get out of this I'm taking that shiny shield of yours."

Steve hesitated. "You know me?"

"Yeah. You know me?"

His eyes flashed blue. His voice turned robotic. "You're Nick Fury, head of SHIELD. Tyrant do-gooder."

"Sure. I'll take it. Do you know who you are?"

The blue in his eyes dimmed to its natural darker color, warm instead of icy. Confusion, but not quite realization. "The Captain. And I'm here for something, so if you don't mind--"

"I mind," Fury interrupted. "What are you doing in Ireland, Rogers?"

"A mission."

"On what?"

"None of your concern," he answered shortly. He wished he knew.

"See, I think--"

Steve didn't think anymore. He swung out an arm and his shield flew off. There were gunshots, slowing the shield off of its course as Fury dived. The soldier jumped, gripping the shield as it bounced back, landing atop Fury. He buried a heavy foot on the man's leg, holding his shield out, ready for the fire of Fury's gun pointed upward.

Fury licked his lips. His words serious, his tone daring. "Are you gonna kill me, Rogers?"

The Captain stared down, his eyes narrowed. Killing Fury would be logical. SHIELD was his enemy. SHIELD was the enemy. All the missions, all the years spent fighting and tracking--the Director of SHIELD was the endgame... Wasn't he?

Fury took his silence as an answer.

"If you are, I'd hold off for a minute." The man nodded towards his left. Steve glanced.

There was a screen, portraying Iron Man, a bright explosion behind him. The video shifted, waves of red and blurred figures hidden from clear view. He squinted. Another tug, confused and--

Lonely.

"We're counting on you, Rogers."

"You shouldn't."

Against everything he'd ever known, Steve stepped off the man, lowering his SHIELD. Fury opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was, he didn't stick around to find out. The only traces that Steve had ever been there was an open window on the seventh floor and the two high-level SHIELD personnel he'd left alive for some reason still unknown to him.

A duffel bag thumped against the floor next to a cheap hotel bed. The springs of the mattress creaked as Steve sat down on it, running a hand through his tussled, damp hair and clicking on the news on the fizzled old television. The shower had been refreshing, but not relaxing. There were still so many questions left unanswered, leaving the man more exhausted than he'd ever been. His whole body ached with confusion and that haunting feeling of loneliness that had tugged when Iron Man had been mentioned.

The feeling had died down some since he'd escaped from the SHIELD base a few hours ago, but it had yet to be smothered, and despite how much it hurt, Steve was grateful.

He didn't know how long exactly, but everything had felt murky for a while. Distracting. Foggy clouds of muddled memories and feelings and motivations. Why had he gone to that SHIELD base? Why did he go to any SHIELD base? Why did he let Nick Fury go? Why did he avoid his home in favor of destroying people and places he didn't know?

There were answers, but they weren't the ones that he wanted.

He went to SHIELD bases because they were the enemy, Hydra had taught him that. And he didn't go back to Brooklyn because the entirety of the United States was prepped to kill him. But why?

Why be loyal to Hydra? Why hurt others who didn't deserve it in the slightest?

His head told him everything Hydra had ever told him, his life had ever told him, about loyalty and values and justice--but his gut said different.

"...another warrant and surge of military power has been shifted to deal with the threat of Iron Man," commented a news reporter, catching the soldier's attention. Steve looked up from where his face had been pressed into his clamped hands to stare at the television. The pang that had been fading gave another strong tug as a picture of Tony Stark was flashed on screen. "This comes just after the villain's most recent attack on the city of New York and the world's mightiest heroes, the Squadron Supreme."

Steve almost laughed. The public worship of the Squadron Supreme never failed to amuse and baffle him. Their name was particularly dreadful.

"Mysterio, also known as Quentin Beck, Earth's resident sorcerer from another realm, assured the public in a call with the White House earlier today, that in response they will take more whale methods to assure this detrimental threat is taken care of. Here is a clip of that call."

The screen changed. In the middle was black, ready for the transcript of the call, while on either side of the screen sat the dignified faces of the president and the sorcerer.

"As the head of the Squadron Supreme," the president started. "What are your plans to fix this blight on our peaceful American ideal?"

"Certainly the team is still conferring, as we don't operate on just one view, but the general consensus is to get to Stark before he can start attacking anywhere or anywhere else."

"Will that work?"

"It will," Beck assured. "My team is the best there is, and Stark is barely anything. We've been holding back, trying to exercise some tolerance and take him in so that he may face the justice of your great world, but I believe we've reached the point where his danger is too great and there can no longer be any doubt on taking him out." Steve's eyes narrowed in anger. He paused, confused at the defensive response, before shaking his head and tuning back in. "This goes for a lot of other terrorists that have been so graciously tolerated."

The president let out a shocked yet dismissive huff. "You can't possibly expect to take down all of the Most Wanted."

"Within the week, I can promise you that, Mr. President. Starting with Iron Man and all the way to even the Captain."

There was a noise as the president moved to say something, but the last of the clip was cut off, returning to the news anchors. Steve muted the television, staring at the wall above the crackling box. His brows furrowed. He just-- he didn't understand.

The TV flashed, catching his attention. Steve glanced back down, his heart skipped a beat at the image on screen. It was Iron Man and Spider-Man. It was a photo of the two, clearly taken while they had been attacking something or other. Stark's mask was off, showing off his shiny blue eyes and dazzlingly sharp smile. Spider-Man's mask was on, but the man's posture told him everything he needed to know. He was excited, and he was safe, even with guns pointed at him.

Stark and Spider-Man were a family, and, looking at them on screen, a little bit of his lost feeling was taken away.

Steve glanced down at his bag and then back at the television. Quick footed, he grabbed it and left without another word, searching for the first flight to New York.

// Ch 1 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 //

#Iron Man #spiderman #captain america #tony stark #peter parker #steve rogers #stony #superior iron man #villain au #villain tony stark #villain peter parker #villain steve rogers #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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rosheendubh · 3 years ago

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WIP...art-manipulation as visual inspiration for The Elegy of Dead Kingdoms...(crossover of StarWars/revamped Thrawn trilogy, FireFly/Serenity, and the Keltiad...also, spoof SpaceOpera-RockOpera featuring anyone from David Bowie, to LED Zepplin, NewOrder, U2, Ah-Ha...etc)...

~Background

~ At the impetus of River Tam, and the Operative, the Serenity’s renegade crew defies transit laws prohibiting unauthorized access to the wormhole connecting Terran space with the quadrant of the Republic Alliance and the Galactic Empire. Having only a fragmented record mentioning a lone survivor from a planetary massacre, the crew track rumors of a psionically gifted orphan said to have come from the Terran Fringe system of New Celtica, possessing the ability of manipulating the molecular structure of organic matter. An exile once in the service of Palpatine, whose skill of biokinesis Thrawn covets to stabilize the unpredictable violence of his cloned hybrids. A woman with adversaries on both sides of the wormhole, winning a Jedi to her cause, and determined to discover the key to a secret kept hidden for a thousand years. A buried legend of Old Terra, Earth That Was, that may be the last defense between the ancient darkness wakened by Thrawn‘s pursuit of absolute dominion, and the destruction of all life throughout the galaxy...(queue *cinematic drama music*)...

Somewhere between the battle of the Dark Force fleet, and Wayland, MonMontha offers a last ditch effort at negotiation with Thrawn. Imperial forces victorious in recent campaigns, have pushed back the RepublicAlliance to their InnerPlanetary systems. Rogue genetic scientists from the Terran quadrant, refusing to abandon their research after the PAX Hydrochlorate failure on Miranda, found a ready market amid trans-conduit Imperial war-profiteers, for their newest discovery. An archaic protogenome derived from dark-matter structures, endowing hybridized Reaver clones with real-time tissue regenerative capacity. These clones now render Thrawn’s army nearly indestructible. The scene above is merely my toying with a concept of the ethereal, and formidable River Tam crossing paths with the illustrious brilliance embodied in the GrandAdmiral Thrawn...

~scene~

On Coruscant, during Monmontha’s attempt at negotiating a peace, Rhyanon ferch Garowen (alluded to above) blatantly rejects Thrawn‘s coercive effort at bringing her to his side during a dinner banquet. B/c of this act of arrogance, Thrawn vows no mercy in the progression of his campaign, conquering and converting sector upon sector into a dark matter/anti-matter morass which becomes dubbed The Dimensional Rift, despite the valiant efforts of the Republic Alliance squadrons, directed by LukeSkywalker, and allies, to fend off the onslaught of Thrawn’s Dreadnaught fleet.

Before all that though, with the evening following the dinner still at hand, Thrawn abides by the Old Republic etiquette of host and guest, honoring civil diplomacy amongst enemies. A requisite social diversion-music or a dance-ensuing in the Palace reception hall holds no interest to him in Rhyanon’s absence. Preferring solitude, he meanders out to a balcony overlooking Coruscant’s expanse of lights, twinkling ladders of motion, reaching up to the lower atmosphere. And here, she follows after him minutes later, floating between shadows, a specter of innocence and dangerous beauty.

She pauses beneath a statue of some nameless goddess, a figure of Victory or Life, a pretension of lesser cultures. Weaker nations seeking hope in empty icons. The girl, young woman really, by the standards of human chronology, offers an entirely different contemplation.

From the sofa where he’s seated, viewing her from across the fountain, Thrawn appreciates the lithe symmetry of her form, a subtle disguise of strength and grace. Dangerous beauty. “You’re very like her, River Tam. A work of art, a living masterpiece,” he comments.

For as young as she is, not more than 20 years surely, she carries herself with a remarkable serenity. Stepping lightly around the other sofa, she leans her hip against the cushioned neck rest. Barely flickering an eyelid, she focuses luminous dark eyes on him, shining through the mottled patterns of light scattered between them.

Her voice resembles her figure, light and flowing. “A failed experiment, you mean, Mitth’raw’nuruodo.” Flawlessly, she speaks his name, though he knows they weren’t introduced at any point previous to this moment. ”I was supposed to be like them—the researchers were trying to make me like them. One of your chimeric hybrids.”

“Ah, the one who got away,“ he muses. Something at that stirs a flicker in her dark gaze. “Yes, little Albatross, I read the classified reports of your Core Parliament. About your brother, the escape. An elegant devising. And a lesson as to the deficiencies of private-contract security.“

Tension firms a line between her brows, hardens her expression as she glances away from him for a moment. “It wouldn’t have mattered.“

His derision comes out as a short, barking laugh. “Why? Because your escape resulted more from the incompetence of poorly trained guards than the alleged skill of your brigand crew mates?

Her attention swings back to him, conviction firm in her words. “No. Because my brother watches out for me. He protects me. And he loves me.”

Thrawn says nothing, stoic against her emotion, such a human flaw. Rubbing his thumb and middle finger together, of the hand draped eloquently off the arm-wrest, he continues sizing up this most intriguing amalgam of softness and mettle.

”Love is a weakness,” satisfaction grim in his tone, picking at a piece of this puzzle embodied by River Tam. Toying with it, testing how she’ll react. “It causes distraction from the warrior’s path. Makes them vulnerable to fear. And you, little Albatross, were foremost, molded as a weapon. A living masterpiece of perfection.”

Her lids slant, head tipped to the side slightly. “I dream about them still. The other test subjects. The Reavers. The dreams used to frighten me. They were worse when the scientists would be administering some new cocktail. They’re not as bad as they used to be, since Miranda. But their voices—I...hear them-“a frown ghosting over her features”-though I’ve learned to hush them.”

”I think you hear a lot more than that, River Tam.”

Challenge broods in a strange magnetism between them. ”So do you,” she says mildly, sending a wary shiver over his skin. How she knows about inoculating himself with the protogenome he can’t begin—

-of course he can. She’s a mind-reader, a telepath. What can’t she pick out of the whirl of thought composing humanoid psyches if she’s so determined?

His awareness smolders like embers in a breeze, open to the Shadow’s primordial sequences merged into his own cells. Enhancing perception, layers of reality peeled back when he channels this infernal heat coursing through his blood. Vision, smell, sound, his mind branching like light off a faceted diamond, reflecting images in a 1000 different plains. And Thrawn, glorying in the draught of fractured darkness.

River’s eyes glint in guarded scrutiny, attuned, perhaps to the whisper of power subsumed by Thrawn’s cultivated urbanity. Wandering over to where he’s seated, she lowers herself next to him on the couch. Her mind brushes against his like leaves floating upon a watery surface, remaining on the periphery without venturing into the depths.

“Chiis physiology-Stamina, strength, resilience against extremes of physical exposure. Superior reflexes and intellect inherent to your species, allowing adaptive advantages over the millennia. A robust psychology keeping you from succumbing to the deterioration of sensory assimilation, the way your clones eventually will. A perfect medium for channeling the Shadow.”

Thrawn wonders where she’s going with her exposition. She bears the full weight of his scorching gaze with nary a flinch. The fey-like curiosity alive across her youthful grace causes a rare unease, unused to be so unabashedly studied. He holds himself still, tensing at the light pressure of her hand taking his out of his lap, wrapping delicate fingers over a wrist corded by muscle.

”Everyone has a weakness,” she says. “Even you.”

Anger snarls beneath the surface of his poise, a broiling red froth that must have blazed up in his gaze. ”Whatever you think you see child, you take liberties of interpretation,” speaking in cold, controlled wrath before which she pales, breathing deep to collect herself. The pressure of her touch on his wrist, though, remains steady.

Her hand, slender fingers resting atop his own, no suggestion of anything other than gentleness. His own hand, larger, stronger, a grip that could crack her bones with minimal exertion. Strangle the air from her lungs, twist her fragile neck like silken twine. Tangling the rich brown waves of her hair in his grasp, forcing her head back till her spine might snap, plundering her mouth as he would plunder her body. Raze her mind till she was left a weeping pile of bruised limbs and torn clothes, cowering on the chill marble floor, her thighs bleeding like the rags of her mind.

Unperturbed, she shares every image coalesced in his thoughts. Each portrait of violence fading into the recess of darkness where the Shadow brews and twists like smoke above the infernal hells. As well, he’s viewed the record of her encounter with the Reavers after Miranda. Like Rhyanon, she would fight him with a skill capable of delaying the ultimate conquest. This wisp of a child, scarcely into womanhood, moving like sand and water, a song of death captured in every leap and twist. Every dive and slash as she wound a choreography of slaughter against an entire pack of beastial invaders. The outcome inevitably in his favor, if for no other reason than the greater strength of his sheer physicality would overwhelm, exhaust her eventually, compared to human anatomic inadequacy.

“A matter of minutes, to take you. An act of utility, really--to break you. Make you beg for a mercy that would never come.“

Her eyebrow crooks up, scolding or skepticism. “But you wouldn’t do that, any of those things.”

Her patient humoring isn’t what he anticipated. ”What makes you think so?” he asks out of mere speculation, momentarily forgetting the antagonizing subtlety guiding their conversation.

”Because you‘ve seen what I am. The weapon, not the woman. And,“ she says, sighing with an almost child-like assurance, looking out to the far horizon, “because seduction isn’t your weakness. She is.”

Damn the girl, for gut-punching through his composure with such guileless effort. His gaze follows hers, tracking the aerial traffic dotting Coruscant’s night skies in a flickering menagerie. He concentrates on keeping his breathing even, stilling his mind, as he considers his reply. The silhouettes of soaring towers outlined by shimmering lights blot out the sky, the glow which would normally be visible on a less metropolitan planet, of satellites in orbit, and stars far beyond.

”One word,” he says finally. “She could have changed the tide of this war for the Republic with one word.“

She turns, a searching intensity in her deep gaze. Seeing too much within him. “So could you, change the tide of this war for Republic,” she says softly, giving a gentle squeeze of his wrist.

Impatient and irritated with the poignancy in her tone, Thrawn shakes her hand off. “She has no idea, the fate to which she’s condemned the galaxy,” he tells her with a hard look, rising off the sofa. He looms over her, eyes burning across her face, so that for the first time, she shudders away from the brewing wrath. He marvels again, the steel disguised beneath the seeming delicacy of her body. Her sandeled feet tucked beneath her on the sofa, the fabric of her dress, simple design of polyfiber cotton, drapes fine curves of breast, hip, and thigh.

Despite her attention fastened upon the night horizon, nothing of intimidation colors her posture, but sadness tinges the turned-down line of her lips. He bows his head to her before heading back to the reception hall lying through a corridor adjoined to the balcony. A salute, a parting to conceal his remorse of the lost fate she chooses with her friends and allies.

“And you, little Albatross,“ he rasps in dire promise, the epithet snaring her surprised glance up at him. “You have no idea what’s coming. None of you do.”

A wasted masterpiece of living art, dangerous beauty.

—

Watching him stride away into the dim hall, the Grand Admiral’s disappointment aches like an overstrained joint. Bothersome, but eventually fading unless exacerbated. In his absence, the darkness hovers about her, the balcony esconsed, now, in transient quiet. Illusory peace.

Alive, so alive, the hum of myriad thoughts, voices, hopes, griefs—the gambit composing sentient life throughout the city. The planet. Her mind-reading truly can’t extend with any precision beyond the palace, but a general hum always persists in the background of her consciousness. The sound of living beings. A vibration silenced forever upon Miranda.

That silence had almost broken her sanity more than any experimentation. As scientists sought to harness innate hyper-sensory perception with neurochemical alterations, subjecting her to an intensive programming, molding her mind-body duplex into prime mental and physical conditioning. In the process, she was often torn, battered, abused, and tortured, her mind confused, shifting between lucidity and dissociation and nightmare. But never breaking.

The sound of death, of nothing. Emptiness like a vacuum, no thought, or feeling. Miranda had almost broken her. Miranda, it turned out, opened the road to a recovery of herself. What she is, what she’s meant to be? No one seems to know. At least not since Simon rescued her from the illicit lab which had been her prison. Hyper-awareness, sensory adepts, psychic traits expressed amongst humans were hardly uncommon through the Terran quadrant, both Core and Fringe systems. Posited by some scientists as a natural development of sentient consciousness, induced by interstellar travel over the centuries.

Among these foreign systems across the wormhole, peoples attributed such gifts to some metaphysical energy field. The Force. Light and Dark. The association, to River’s thinking, paradoxical for a property endemic to all beings, carrying no inherent morality until determined by the intent of the wielder. Perhaps she just didn’t quite grasp its intricacies as yet, conceding that nuances of intuition, emotion, passive reception, meditation still often eluded her. The Force embedded such concepts, rather than the more actualized focus of psychic traits held by the majority of systems native to the Terran quadrant.

What she is. What she‘s meant to be—*a weapon, a work of art*. *No*, she answers her own query, the feeling of defiance liberating. *A failed experiment. The one who got away.*

”And you forget,“ she whispers to the attentive night. “I can still hear them in my head. All the time. Just like you do, Mitt’raw’nuruodo.”

Miranda is not what Thrawn has in mind, that sort of emptiness. He wants something more. Under Imperium’s auspices, subjugating and assimilating one star system after another, spreading this corruption of time and reality, bleeding the Dark Entity’s ravenous, primordial substance like an oil-slick settling into the sinkholes of what had been viable Star-systems. Seeding these tortured hybrids cloned of Reavers, and whatever other mutated derangements of horror will fuse and divide in an incubator. With his enhanced soldiers, their minds a racket of incessant savagery, submission to Thrawn throughout the galaxy seems inevitable. Especially now that Intel, and Republic specialists working with Rhyanon, recently confirmed the adaptive capacity of certain hybrids to infect other living creatures with their intracellular genetic material.

They’ll never be completely hushed, even in the deepest caverns of her own mind. Reavers. The chimeric hybrids. They howl, writhe, snarl, and scream in agony beyond their comprehension. But the havoc of their consciouses, keeping the hybrids contained as a utilizable resource requires increasing concentrations of sedatives, hyponotics, and psychogenic pharmaceuticals.

She can feel their echo within Thrawn, too. Not of the violence, but his craving the Shadow’s power. It’s why he covets Rhyanon-her abilities of biologic manipulation, transforming the very backbone molecules of life. Healing, rejuvenating, reconstructing, restoring from disease, infection, deterioration and decay. Thirsting for the surcease she could provide, balancing the Dark Entity’s immersion of his own constitution. A living masterpiece, the kind of gifted elegance Thrawn desired, Rhyanon, like River, was another one who’d gotten away. Another failed experiment. Another dangerous beauty.

Rhyanon loathes him. Holding her captive on his flagship under the influence of cortical inhibitors, and hallucinogens. Trying to force her into stabilizing the synaptic connections of higher brain function in his hybrids. Dampening their insanity as the cloned offspring reached maturity. Coercing her in other ways as well, while she resisted the influence of intoxicants deluging her system. That was why she rejected his play at truce earlier during the dinner, an offer to join him voluntarily. That. And the fact she and the Jedi were patently lovers. A circumstance exacerbating the already furious enmity between the Grand Admiral and Luke.

Rhyanon would use those same graces of biokinesis to tear him apart one atom at a time, despite the danger of inducing her own body’s destruction. The price of biopsionic talents, a check limiting the potential for abuse of that power over life and death. Unfortunate, in that Rhyanon’s ability, synergized with the particular strengths shared between their small group of Force-wielders and sensory adepts, offers the only potential counter against Thrawn’s growing influence.

Finding some way of battling this Dark Matter entity. This Abaddon, commanding elemental forces dating from the universe’s origins. A being capable of destroying multiple star-systems if they resist its Seeding. They’d all seen what happened on Namsonis 4 in the aftermath of losing the majority of Dreadnaughts. A desperate evacuation. A world wrenched apart like a ball of mud crushed in a fist. A solar system facing a monstrous dehiscence of time and space, heart of chaos, blowing a hole through the core of a sun, and incinerating the other 6 planets spared Namsonis’s fate. Hours later, a festering wound across the void of black, rocky debris and ionized gas discharges the last traces of a star system no longer existing between tomorrows.

Contrary to the stillness in which she sits, River’s thoughts spin countless strands in the spreading web of her mind, her fingers running absently along the ridge of her collarbone. Picturing simultaneous star-maps, envisioning parallel scenarios of navigation vectors, battle engagements, the stratified calculations worked in trans-dimensional matrices. Always hearing the Reavers seething in the recess of her soul.

Finally, arriving at some conclusion, she reveals to the passing night, ”I do know exactly what’s to come.” And maybe, maybe there’s a chance. One distant, improbable-verging on impossible-chance they have of subverting this menace before it reaches the Terran quadrant.

#Star Wars #firefly serenity #grand admiral thrawn #River Tam #Rhyanon ferch Garowen #Luke Skywalker #Lattice of Infinity

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grailfinders · 4 years ago

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Fate and Phantasms #108: Iskandar

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making Alexander unlily, a.k.a. Iskandar! The Macedonian Macerator is beefy as hell, but he’s also a swell guy in general- possibly history’s first himbo. I’m just happy that I now I can finally watch Tulok’s video without having to worry about accidentally plagiarizing his build months later. To summarize: Horse. Army. Lightning weapons. Let’s do this.

You can check out Iskandar’s build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: Could someone with depression do this?! *warps time and space*

Race and Background

Iskandar’s got some of that good old Zeus blood in him, making him yet another Aasimar Noble. Protector Aasimar get Darkvision, Celestial Resistance to necrotic and radiant damage, Healing Hands for hands that do a bit of healing, and the Light cantrip for the sake of anyone not lucky enough to be born part god.

Also as a noble, you’re good at History and Persuasion. You managed to get Waver’s vote, if nothing else. Also, you’re a part of history, so that kind of feels like cheating.

Ability Scores

Your biggest power is quite literally the men you’ve inspired along the way, so make sure your Charisma is as high as possible. After that is Strength. your second biggest power is being ripped as shit. Third is Constitution to keep down your wine, then Dexterity. You’re not super limber any more, but keeping your guns out means you’re wearing medium armor. Your Wisdom isn’t that strong because Alexander the Great is not Alexander the Well-Behaved. Finally, dump Intelligence. You are smart, but more in a wisdomy sort of way, not a Wavery sort of way.

Class Levels

1. Paladin 1: Much like yourself, you’re good enough at magically slapping people with weapons to earn the vaunted title of paladin at level 1. This gives you Wisdom and Charisma save proficiency, as well as Athletics and Intimidation. You cut a scary figure, what can I say.

You can also use your Divine Sense to hunt down Caster’s abominations more easily, or Lay on Hands for yet another way to slap someone back to life.

2. Paladin 2: Second level paladins get a free fighting style. Grab Dueling for better one-handed stabbing. You also have a pike but that’s for later, because right now you’re also getting Spells. You can prepare and cast them with your Charisma, and right now you only have level one spell slots. Sadly none of the smites you get right now come with lightning damage, but at least it’s something. If you’d rather not worry about magic, you can spend all your spell slots on Divine Smites instead for raw radiant damage.

3. Barbarian 1: You’re charming, but you’re also buff as hell and not completely reasonable, so this isn’t that strange a mix. First level barbarians can Rage as a bonus action for extra damage, advantage on strength checks and saves, and even more damage resistances. You also get a bit of Unarmored Defense that we won’t be using.

As an Aasimar, this is the level your Radiant Soul kicks in, giving you a flying speed and extra radiant damage once per turn for a minute. You can use this once per long rest. I know technically the horse should be flying, but we’ll take it where we can get it.

4. Barbarian 2: Second level barbarians get Reckless Attacks; gaining advantage on your weapon attacks in exchange for giving advantage as well. You can also use your Danger Sense for advantage on dexterity saves.

5. Barbarian 3: As a third level barbarian you can summon the beginnings of your Ionioi Hetairoi thanks to your Ancestral Guardian subclass. When you rage, you can summon Ancestral Protectors that make it harder for creatures to target anything other than you. They target the first creature you hit each turn, and any other creature that takes damage from them has resistance to it. You tend to be the center of attention, after all.

You also get a bit of Primal Knowledge for proficiency in Animal Handling. You’re a rider, you should know how to... y’know, ride.

6. Paladin 3: Third level paladins also get their subclass, and if you remember your childhood the Oath of Glory should be nothing new to you. Your Divine Health makes you immune to disease, and you get to Channel Divinity in two ways, once per short rest. You can either become a Peerless Athlete for advantage on athletics and acrobatics checks, a doubled carrying capacity, and an extra 10 feet of jumping distance; or you can make an Inspiring Smite, spending a bonus action after using your divine smite to hand out some temporary HP to allies (including yourself) nearby, divided however you like.

You also get fancy new oath spells- Guiding Bolt for more things that really should deal lightning damage and Heroism in case you don’t have enough healing yet.

7. Paladin 4: You finally get an Ability Score Improvement at level 7, so use this one to grab the Mounted Combatant feat. This gives you combat advantage against any creature smaller than your mount, the ability to redirect attacks against your mount to you instead, and mount evasion. You’ll notice you don’t have a mount yet- we’re working on it, promise.

8. Paladin 5: Fifth level paladins get an Extra Attack per attack action for more stabbing. More relatedly, you also get second level spells, like Enhance Ability to give an ally advantage on one kind of skill check- strength, dexterity, constitution, intelligence, wisdom, or charisma. It also comes with little bonuses for those first three. You also get Magic Weapon for fancier stabbing.

While Find Steed isn’t an oath spell, it does let you find a steed that’s smarter than most horses, and your spells that should affect only you affect your horse as well. I know Radiant Soul isn’t a spell, but c’mon hypothetical DM. c’monnnn.

9. Barbarian 4: Use this next ASI to bump up your Strength for even better stabbing. It’s pretty straightforward.

10. Barbarian 5: You don’t get an extra attack this time, but you do get Fast Movement for an extra 10′ of movement. You’re usually on a horse, but it’s nice to have a little bit more speed regardless.

11. Fighter 1: You didn’t really think we were done multiclassing yet, did you? Fighters get yet another fighting style, and Great Weapon Fighting will make your pike damage a little more consistent. You can also take a break as a bonus action to use your Second Wind to heal yourself. A good king fights hard and rests harder.

12. Fighter 2: Second level fighters can use an Action Surge to put even more stabbing in their turn once per short rest. Again it’s pretty simple, but effective.

13. Fighter 3: You’re good at riding, and so are Cavaliers. This makes you proficient in Insight so you can read Waver like a book, and you’re also Born to the Saddle. You have advantage against falling off your mount, you land on your feet even if you do, and you can mount/dismount a creature for only 5′ of movement. You can also put an Unwavering Mark on creatures you hit until the end of your next turn. While they’re within 5′ of you they have disadvantage on attacks that aren’t aimed at you, and if they still try anything funny you can make a bonus action attack against them that deals extra damage next turn. You can only use said attack a number of times per long rest equal to your strength modifier, but you have no limit on marking creatures. Most of the benefits of Ancestral Guardian, without the rage.

14. Barbarian 6: Speaking of, we almost missed out on the guardian’s next feature, the Spirit Shield. While raging, you can use your reaction to block a bit of damage heading to nearby creatures using the sheer numbers of your soldiers.

15. Fighter 4: Use this ASI to round up your Constitution and Charisma for more spells, health, and another special bonus next level.

16. Paladin 6: It’s been a while, huh? Your new Aura of Protection adds your charisma modifier to any saves done within 10′ of you. Yours, your horse’s, other people’s, it’s all good. You tend to bring out the best in others.

17. Paladin 7: The auras just don’t stop with you, do they? Your Aura of Alacrity gives you and allies within five feet of you an extra 10 feet of movement speed. I’m not saying your horse is inherently better than other people’s, but yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying.

18. Paladin 8: Use your last ASI to bring your Strength up even higher. I mean look at you, you’re pretty buff.

19. Paladin 9: Ninth level paladins get third level spells, giving you Haste and Protection from Energy as oath spells. You can now have a horse moving at 420 feet per round if you really wanted to. You also finally get Elemental Weapon, for a spell that actually adds lightning damage to your sword. You could get by with radiant if you really want to, but there’s just something special about shocking people.

20. Paladin 10: Your capstone level gives you one last aura, the Aura of Courage. This prevents friendly creatures within 10′ of you from being frightened. Waver’s a big bundle of nerves, he really needed this.

Pros:

You can make your horse go more than 400′ in a turn, and you’re pretty fast yourself. On top of that, being able to cast haste on you and your horse is pretty cool, if just for the extra actions it affords you.

You also have plenty of options to make yourself the center of attention, protecting your horse and squishier teammates from physical attackers. Mix in your almost 200 HP and rages, and you’re pretty well set as a tank. That’ll be especially useful in case your wizard master needs to retreat from a fight.

You’re good at inspiring people around you without really doing much directly. Your auras power up their saves, speed, and nerves. Beyond that, you also have plenty of ways to buff them magically or with temporary HP.

Cons:

You’re not as married to your horse as other riders, but using it still makes things more complicated than they have to be. Not to mention it feeds right into your next problem.

Despite your speed, the short range of your auras means making use of your speed leaves your team without those buffs you give them. Also, being on a horse shuts everyone but the horse out of your aura of alacrity.

You have a ton of defenses, but none of them really matter to spellcasters. You should be fine as long as you don’t run into anyone who specializes in ranged magical attacks, though.

#Fate Grand Order #Iskandar #D&D 5e #FGO #Fate and Phantasms

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hunnybadgerv · 4 years ago

Note

For your fandom ask: H, N, S, and Z?

From the Fandom Meme

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., tv shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.) Most of my fandom source texts are video games. Not sure why, but I don’t get quite as invested in films or TV shows the way I do with video games. And sometimes it happens with books, but only really rarely. I’m not sure why. I mean with books and shows, sometimes I’ve thought about writing things, but I usually don’t end up going through with it. I think because at that point I’m messing with only someone else’s characters and it is hard for me to get invested fully into work that is only the creation of another.

With video games, I get to participate in the world in a manner of speaking. There is an interactivity and engagement inherent to video games that creates a different focus and a buy-in that is not present in other sources, at least for me. I get to create a character and fit them into this world and watch them move through it--and sure they fall along a certain line according to the developers’ plans, but I do get to have a hand in it. It’s the reason I’m a sucker for RPG games.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice) I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure what I’d say for any of my fandoms. But I do kind of sit at the edge of my fandoms, all of them. I’m not in the middle of anything in any of them, and I’m perfectly content there because I’m moderate participant at best.

1. I’d really like to see the Saints Row fandom revive itself. It used to be quite a lively and welcoming location. It seems that most of those that remain are the gatekeepers.

2. I’d like to see more respect and inclusion for Faith Seed. There is a group of people in that fandom that like to treat her like she is not part of the family. Despite this tendency in some corners of the Far Cry 5 fandom, most of the people I’m surrounded by also hold that Faith is a valid member of the family who should be included in discussions and representations of the Seed siblings.

3. This question would be so very much easier if I was a more active participant in my fandoms. Overall, I wish more of us, in all my fandoms, were still active on tumblr. A lot of people migrated away. Perhaps if I were more active in other places, I would still be able to reach out to them. Though I know many of them are on Discord, it’s just not a medium that works for my mind. Plus, I’ve kind of been cut off from things so long that I still struggle with maintaining connections with people. It’s something I’m particularly bad at.

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged) Okay, so this is more difficult than I anticipated.

I’m both fearing and excited about the Legendary version of Mass Effect releasing in May. I really am looking forward to the graphical update and the game play cleanup. Though I really don’t know that I want to see them adjust the Mako controls, I loved that sketchy thing and the fact that if you tried hard enough you could climb over anything. I loved the Mako in all it’s flaws and fabulousness.

I’m also kind of concerned about the possibility of them altering the story or the characters in some way.

There is a tendency nowadays for fan opinions to be able to alter plans, story, and characters in media. And I really don’t want them to change the franchise in order to meet some loud corner of the fandom. I loved the game as it was, flaws and all. I really fear that they might institute some odd change to suit some rabid corner of the internet that will unravel the fabric of something I’ve loved for so long.

Though in the same vein, I’d love to see some changes here and there. Perhaps the ability to romance Ashley as fShepard, or Kaidan in the ME 1 timeline as mShep. I don’t know. But then again. If I rally for those sorts of changes, then I open myself up to the other potential changes.

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged) Hmm. I really enjoy the templar’s lore in Dragon Age, but I wanted to see where else I might be able to take it. I thought, what if there was some magic in templars that allowed them to wield lyrium effectively. And I started doing some reading with old chivalric knights and ideas about knighthood and chivalry in histroy and literature and I wanted to bring that kind of sense into the templars lore, perhaps even a forgotten or overlooked bit of lore for them. And I started playing around with the idea of Templars containing or controlling their own magical ability that is only enhanced by the lyrium. And this kind of happened.

I put it under a cut because it is incredibly long.

Malcolm found his daughter sitting in the grass at the back fence. She had been crying and he was disturbed by the idea that his wife's concern may have been more warranted than he'd given it credit for. He sat next to her and leaned against the fence. "Tell me," he said trying to keep his voice even.

"I don't even know," she said weakly.

Malcolm slid his arm around her shoulders. "Did… did he?" He could barely say it let alone think it.

She shook her head. "No, Father," Aderyn said surprised that he could think that. "I really don't know how to explain it." She wasn't sure how to talk about this with her father. But he was the only person who might be able to help her. She explained some things, though not others. She left out the details about how Cullen had ended up shirtless. "I saw a glow, it was strange. There was no warmth either, which is why I can't figure out how I burned him. I can always feel the glow of fire," she said as she stared at the grass running the event through her head.

"It was a burn?"

"Well, not really. That's what it looked like. And Cullen said something," she said looking up at her father hopefully. "That there was nothing discernable."

"You should have brought him with you."

"What did I do to him?" she asked, clearly concerned. "And how can I control something when I don't know what it is?"

"Did he return to the Chantry?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know." He looked at her for a moment. "I was scared. No, appalled. I hid. I …"

"I'm sorry I can't assuage your fears. I'll see him as soon as I can. See if there is anything I can do," Malcolm said, hoping to reassure her some. He stood and offered her his hand.

"Aderyn!" They both turned to see him running up the path. He hopped over the fence and stopped when he saw her father's face. "Malcolm, pardon me."

"No need." Malcolm ushered them both inside and quickly into his small study. If what his daughter said was true he had to be objective, at least until he found out what had happened. He could be an upset father after he knew what had happened. Aderyn started to leave, but Malcolm told her he would need her assistance.

"Show me," Malcolm said as his fingers moved across the spines of books on a shelf. When he turned and saw the mark he dropped the books he'd pulled off the shelf. He glanced at the templar then looked at his daughter for a long moment. He clinched his jaw and gathered the books he dropped. The mage set the books on the table and touched the distinctive mark in the center of the young man's chest. "Did it burn?"

Cullen shook his head. "I didn't feel anything." He looked over at the unnerved woman in the corner. "Aderyn saw a glow. I can't tell anything about it, it's like there's no trace of magic to it."

Within the hour Malcolm was more concerned about what had occurred than that his daughter had been in a position to leave such a mark on the young man. He could find nothing in his research. The three of them had sat there for several hours as Malcolm searched through his books with the help of his daughter. When her father left the room in search of a rare volume he kept in a chest in his bedroom, Aderyn handed Cullen his shirt back and he stood and slipped it on again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered standing behind her. She leaned back against his chest and he set his hand on her hip.

"You have nothing to apologize for," she replied replacing her father's books on the shelves.

"It doesn't matter." "How can you say that?" she asked glancing up at him over her shoulder. She shelved another volume. "You can't hide what I've done."

"Actually, I can. Quite easily I must add. I'm not one for running around shirtless."

Aderyn would beg to differ, she'd seen the sight several times, but she couldn't make light of the situation she was in. She was too scared for him, for herself, but most of all, for her family. She turned around and leaned against the bookcase. "How can you not be concerned?"

He set his hands on the bookcase on either side of her shoulders and gazed down into her eyes. "You are more than concerned enough for both of us." She glared at him a moment. "I'll tell you a secret." He leaned toward her. "I don't think it's the result of magic."

"What then?" Her look changed dramatically.

"I think it's something else. More potent than magic." He leaned toward her, but she ducked under his arm as the door opened.

"Smart boy." Malcolm closed the door behind himself, completely this time. "It's not something that can be performed by a mage." He looked at his daughter who seemed most surprised by the news; she sat down slowly. "As odd as this statement is. It's templar magic." Cullen laughed, but it was cut short by the look on Malcolm's face and a glance at the seal on the cover of the book. "It's a promise. Sealed by a touch."

Cullen looked at him curiously. Malcolm touched the book then looked back to the templar. "If this is correct, Aderyn give me your hand." She reached out to her father and he turned her right hand over to look at it. He nodded and loosed her hand. Aderyn touched her palm then looked up at Cullen, it was completely smooth. She showed the discovery to the templar. He ran his fingertips across her palm.

"I've never heard of anything like this," Cullen said marvelling at the complete lack of any texture on her palm.

"It is rare," Malcolm said. "I didn't think it could be the cause, truthfully I always thought it was little more than another part of templar legend, part of the myth." Both of them looked over at him carefully. He sat down and closed the book. "An old friend claimed he was marked by his wife in such a way, ... on their wedding night," he added carefully. "It's determined by overwhelming trust and connection to another."

#Fandom Meme #ljandersen

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funnelsbot-price · 3 years ago

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elejah-verse · 4 years ago

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Hellbound/1

Fanfiction

Part 1

This a tvd+to fanfiction story. Totally AU.

Premise:

The Mikaelsons helped the Mystic Falls Scoobies fight a clan of ancient werewolves called the Hundings. Klaus and Caroline paid the ultimate price, as well as Damon. But as it is the case in the magical world of the Mystic Falls vampires, death is not the end.

There is also a new adventure looming for the Mystic Falls Scoobies and their now friends, the Original vampires, as everything is somehow always connected to them. And so, they are Hellbound…

Main pairings_ Elijah MIkaelson x Elena Gilbert,

Rebekah Mikaelson x Stefan Salvatore

Kol Mikaelson x Bonnie Bennett

Damon Salvatore x Katherine Pierce

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

thanks for reading - xoxo

* nate and kat gif is not mine

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

As they landed Elena in Nova Scotia, Elena switched her phone on. There was a voicemail mesage from Jeremy. She played it.

"I guess you're on the plane. Hm-Caroline and Klaus were just here, as ghosts. Call me."

The Original siblings looked at one another stunned to hear the message. Elena made the call to Jeremy.

"Hey -we just landed." Elena said as her brother picked up the call.

"Hey... yeah... Caroline and Klaus woke me up."

"It was really them?!"-Rebekah said.

"As their ghostly self, yes." Jeremy replied.

"What did they say and why did they contact us?" Elijah said.

Jeremy now told them what Caroline told him.

"Sigrid Mikaelson?!" Kol uttered."Have you ever heard this name? Do we have more syblings we didn't know about?!"

"Who says we are the only Mikaelsons?!" Rebekah said.

Now Stefan raised a question,"What about your cousins?"

"Father didn't have any brothers or sisters" Rebekah explained.

"What about Grandmothers?" Bonnie then said.

"Not by that name." Elijah said.

"How much do you really know about your family?"-Stefan said looking at the Original vampires.

"You're right." Elijah said "It looks like so much is shrouded in secrets. But why?" "And why did my grandmother have it?" Bonnie said.

"Ok. Talk to you later, Jer. If they come to you again- call us." Elena said to him and gung up.

"Let's get settled and we can start with the research" Elijah suggested.

They all agreed.

Elijah had found a suitable house where they could all stay together.

****

New York, NY

Sophie packed her bag. She looked at the e-mail Bonnie had sent her.

"Grams told me that she doesn't know anything about a map. She has never been to Nova Scotia."

"Does it ever stop with the Mikaelsons?!" the witch muttered to herself looking at the clock. She then put her jacket on and picked up her keys. She glanced once more back at the apartment to make sure she hadn't forgotten something and then picked up her bag and walked out of the apartment.

***** Yarmouth, Nova Scotia

A woman played with a four year old child in her garden.

"Ok...now you throw me the ball back” the woman said smiling at her daughter,"that's really good Rae."

And as she was about to throw the ball back to the girl, she saw a woman come into the garden.

"Hello, Hayley. Is that Rae?! She has really grown?!" the woman said.

Hayley shot a nasty look at the woman and then her grandmother hearing the voice of the visitor came out and took the girl back into the house not to watch the women exchanging insults.

"What do you want Francesca?" Hayley said in a stanoffish manner, " I told you not to come around the house?

"Where then? In the bar, where everyone can here about werewolf and witch business?!" Francesca said.

"I am done with the witches. I told you that."-Hayley said.

"I know that it is not in your nature to just give up your alpha status."-the witch continued.

"You don't know what parents are capable to do to save their own. I just want a peaceful life with my daughter. I don't care about the ancient crap and territory and who owns what. I told you I am done!" Hayley spat and turned to walk towards the house.

"Well, this is about your daughter"-Francesca said.

Hayley turned around and charged at the witch, who had no problem stopping her with her magic.

"I heard it on the witch grapevine that someone is looking to raise an old powerful witch back to life."

"Leave me alone. I am not the leader of the pack. Go and talk to Cat about it." Now Hayley's grandma came out.

"Rae needs you" the old woman said to Hayley.

"Go Francesca and leave us alone." Hayley sifted.

"As you wish. But don't say I warned you" the witch said and left the garden.

Hayley got into the house and saw that the child was watching the TV serenely.

"Why did you call me in? Rae is fine."- Hayley said.

"I just wanted you away from her. We made a deal with the pack and not with the witch. As you told her you are no longer the leader, so I don't know what she wants from you?!" the old woman said.

"We should have gone the night I gave up everything. She will always want something of us." Hayley looked at a photo of her and a man standing next to her hugging her."Jackson would still be alive." *

In Halifax, Elena and the rest of the gang made themselves comfortable in the house they rented.

Bonnie used the spell Sophie taught her to make the place private as they were too many vampires ears around.

Elena had ordered food for them and Rebekah went for a fresh supply off blood for them with Stefan.

Kol played on his computer trying to cross-reference the latest trails Sophie had sent earlier about two witches coven in Nova Scotia that might have some knowledge about the map.

"Anything?" Bonnie asked as she got into the kitchen.

"No. Loads of dead ends. I think it was done on purpose or they have closed ranks for some reason," Kol said,"but here is a name. Dumas. Heloise."

"A witch?" Elena looked at the vampire tilting her head.

"Oh, yes. Not just any." Kol's eyes shone with the discovery.

Elijah now walked in and asked him about the lead.

"I heard them talk about her. She possessed powers apparently like our mother. It was rumored that she was a werewolf too." Kol said.

"A hybrid witch? Is there a picture?" Elena inquired.

Kol showed them the photograph of the woman.

" Right, now we have to figure out what her coven has to do with you, the Mikaelsons?!

" Sophie thinks that these two covens being the oldest had to have some knowledge of the past?!"

Kol now enhanced the photo-" look on the broach on her blouse- the sign-it's like triple crescent moons?!"

Elijah looked at it and so did the others.

"This sign was on the map, too."- he said and got the map out to verify it.

"There it is!"Kol said." Sophie, you badass!"

"Now we only need to find the coven now" Elijah said satisfied with the prompt result.

"Ok, Kol said. Let's go and snoop around town! Anyone for a good night out?!"-he looked at Bonnie, and turned to his sister and Stefan adding, "the lovebirds here will probably snooze in front of a TV and watch a silent film"

“Shut up” Rebekah snapped at her brother.

Elijah rolled his eyes a bit, and turned to the doppelganger. "Elena, how about a drink? It feels a tad bit stuffy in this house?!"

"I'd love a drink." Elena said smiling.

”Right. We will leave you to have your meal.” Elijah said and turned to his brother asking him if he could have a word with him.

Elena and Bonnie sat down to eat.

"I still can't get over that all this is so pretty normal with them." Bonnie said.

"Weirder things have happened. I so would like to know how Caroline and Klaus get on? Is it still honeymoon or did they rip each other's ghostly heads-off?!" Elena said.

**** Plantation house, near New Orleans

Katherine finished her gardening work and went into the kitchen to wash her hands. She took some vegetables out and started dicing them.

"Katherine Pierce in a domestic mode?! I must be in Hell." a voice so very familiar uttered making Katherine turn around slightly shocked pointing the knife at the person instinctively.

"D-Damon?! How...what blasting magic is this?" Katherine said seeing Damon leaning on the back of a chair.

"You can see me?!" Damon then said.

"I can see you. I can hear you?!" the doppelganger uttered still amazed. She approached him wanting to touch him, but it was clear that he was in his ghost form. "You've come to haunt me?!"

"To haunt?! Maybe?! I have been here the whole time. I have seen everything. You all burying me. Them going away. You crying over me. Very touching" "Even as a ghost you have to be an ass."-Katherine replied miffed.

"Hey, come on, even you have to admit that is a bit wacky all this- you, the great Katherine Pierce not that selfish. Showing all your real emotions! But... how come you can see me all of a sudden?! This morning, you couldn't see me when I was lurking?!"

"First, Don't call me Katherine. My name is Katerina. Secondly, there is magic involved. I am not a medium like Jeremy"

"Where is he, btw? And why are you still here? I saw Elijah leaving you plenty of money and the deeds to this property?! Elena must have been really pissed- though I saw you to talking about me. All sweet like two lost sisters?!" "I have to find a witch to make you go away. Maybe those crazy werewolves didn't bite you well enough" Katherine said taking her phone calling Elijah. *

Downtown Halifax, Nova Scotia, Rebekah compelled a man after she had a quick drink turning to Stefan.

"Ok. I just had to have a bit of fresh blood." Rebekah said. " I just can't go on with the pig blood diet of yours!"

"I didn't say anything, did I?" Stefan said.

"No, but you just looked at me the way you look at me?! Ah, ok...what did they want? Have they all figured out?"- Rebekah asked as Stefan read Elena's message.

"Here- " he showed her the triple crescent symbol and the picture of the witch, and her name - Heloise," Rebekah said, "right, witch hunt it is!"

"So, the Miakaelsons started from where exactly?" Stefan asked.

"Great great-grandfather was from Gotland. Then he went to what we now know as Estonia. Father told us that his family always wanted to get richer and trade more. And they did. They said that the winters would be very harsh and it was hard to farm and keep the animals, and they have always wanted to go places. There was one story mother told us once, and that four children died because the village they were living in got trapped by snow. That was probably my great great great grandfather Mikaelson. I don't know. And he was left with one son, who survived. He took his woman and they left for Gotland.Well, it is obvious that my mother and father got to England. There is nothing after the Hunding battle, is there? Something must have happened?!" Rebekah gave an extensive account.

They walked into a bar and asked for drinks.

"So, the plague happened in Estonia?! Who moved to England?!"

"My parents married in Estonia. I know that much. The left because all of their stock died and people were dying of some disease. At least that's what my father told us. When they would talk about family in those days it was in the manner of the sagas. They were tales of worthy men. Epic work of fiction. " Rebekah said.

"Hey, blondie, bring us some more beer over here?! Do your job. You can" a drunken man said to Rebekah mistaking her for the waitress.

Before the man could say anything more, Stefan had him by the throat sifting, "You don't speak to my girlfriend that way or I will tear you head off right here, right now! Apologize!"

The man apologized quickly and Stefan let him go.

Rebekah looked at Stefan with eyes wide open. His sudden outburst was something she didn't expect of him although it flattered her that he official called her his girlfriend.

"That's what you get when you go into a dive!" Rebekah said and now kissed Stefan seeping with passion. She pulled him out of the bar into the back alley.

"This was the hottest thing ever coming from you!" she said and pulled him onto her. He now had a taste of the human blood that he felt in Rebekah's mouth. It made him lose his control and he bit into her neck. Ever since the battle of the Hundings and Damon passing away, Stefan's personality shifted slightly. He had angry ripper outbursts at times, or he would completely shut out and seemed not to care.

Rebekah pulled him off of her.

"Stefan?!"

He looked at her horrified at his actions.He wanted to run off, but she caught him reading his inentions in his eyes and he slumped on the floor screaming.

"I don't want this. What is wrong with me?!"

"Shshsh" Rebekah embraced the vampire. "I won't drink from humans anymore...sorry... you will be all right. We will sort this out. I promise! I love you"

Somewhere not far from Rebekah and Stefan were stuck in an alley, Kol, Elijah, Elena and Bonnie walked into a bar.

"Let's see what Taboo has to offer us" Kol said. “70s night! There you go. Great music.”

"What are you ladies drinking?" Elijah asked Elena and Bonnie.

"Beer" Bonnie said and Elena nodded in agreement.

Elijah went to the bar to get the drinks. "We forget research tonight.” Bonnie said.

"I can smell werewolf scent" Elena then remarked. Bonnie looked surprised at her.

"Trust me, being able to smell things like a vampire is pretty gross. If werewolves are here, vampires are not. " Elena said.

"Would they lead us to the covens?!" Bonnie said.

"Sophie said these witches are connected with werewolves?! " Elena said. "Like I need to see a werewolf so soon."

Elijah returned with the drinks. He brought some shots with the beers. Kol joined them.

"My brother learns fast." Kol said taking a shot.

"Come on, let's dance!" he took Bonnie by the hand. She protested a little but got carried away with the music.

"He is totally - easy tonight." Elena said looking at Kol, who seemed a fun loving-self.

And when he was in good mood, the Original shone like no one else. As the karaoke stage was freed, he had Bonnie do a duet with him.

“They say that you are an amazing singer.”

“And what if I was?” Bonnie cocked an eyebrow at the vampire.

“I am not bad myself.”

The witch rolled her eyes. “You so love yourself.”

“Darling, there is nothing bad in excercising self-love. Ok - how about this one - Elton John and Kiki Dee - ‘Don’t go breaking My Heart.”

“You know Elton John’s music?” Bonnie was surprised to say the least.

“I am in with the times. Though 70s was forty-odd years ago. I’m not like Elijah. I like pop culture. Right. Ready?” Kol took the mic.

Don't go breaking my heart I couldn't if I tried Honey, if I get restless Baby, you're not that kind

Don't go breaking my heart You take the weight off me Oh, honey, when you knock on my door Ooh, I gave you my key

Ooh-hoo, nobody knows it When I was down I was your clown Ooh-hoo, nobody knows it, nobody knows Right from the start I gave you my heart Oh oh, I gave you my heart

Everyone present was impressed as both of them showed they had a great talent, plus they made it even more fun, playing off as if they were a couple.

“I can’t believe how good they are” Elena said.”Wow, he is a totally - yeah.” Elena said and took a swag of the beer herself, and swayed a bit to the beat, looking at Elijah.

"He agreed to use a herb to keep his attacks of rage under control." Elijah said. "We had a long talk about - a lot of things. One is his behaviour. He wishes he could earse some of the things he had done.

" I wish I could erase and rewind, too -at least some things." Elena said.

"Wouldn't we all?!" Elijah said pensively taking a swag of the beer.

“No negativity tonight.” Elena suddnely got up. “I’m going to dance. You?”

Elijah swayed his had as in no. Shrugging with her shoulders, the doppelganger acknowledged that this was not his thing and now went to the crowd that danced to Kennetts second song.

Continuing with his beer, Elijah’s eyes were fixed on Elena. Whenever he was around her he felt an unusual tingling happiness cross his heart. For years his feelings were so neutral nearly all the time. Love was something he had stopped believing in. Up to the day, he came to Mystic Falls again and met her. The third doppelganger. And those months around her, getting to know her brought the feelings he had thought were safely guarded out. He started to feel love, joy and happiness so strongly it made him tingle right down to his bones.

Elena, who was in full dancing mode, now turned to Elijah inviting him to come join her.

“Come on” Elena said with a broad smile. “I know it’s not the cotillion - actually it is much easier.”

“I don’t know -” Elijah said standing up.

Seeing his brother with Elena in a semi -tug, Kol, who had noticed Elijah tiptoing around the doppelganger, chose a softer song, compelling the person, who wanted to get them off the stage to go away and just have delirious fun and let them be.

“What’s up with you?” Bonnie said galring at the Original.

“Look - Elena is trying to get Elijah to dance - and knowing my brother - he needs something more slower and softer - this one is for them.”

“What are you talking about?” Bonnie said.

“Elijah and Elena need a push - you missed so much being away in the underworld - help me here.”

“This one.” Bonnie said as she saw the Bee Gees’ How Deep Is Your Love.

“Perfect” Kol said and got the song going.

As they started singing, Bonnie turned her head to the dancing area. Her friend and the Original were now slowly swaying to the song. She of course knew the song so well, as her gramps used to play it often. Strangely, after a very long time they were having fun.

Rebekah and Stefan, who finally appeared in the bar, were not surprised to see Kol being the master of ceremonies.

“There is Elena with Elijah - finally” Rebekah said as her eyes caught her eldest brother dancing with the doppelganger.

“Wanna dance, too?” Stefan said to his girlfriend.

“Yeah,” Rebekah said,”crazy dancing fun is what we need and lots of it cuz something tells me there isn’t going to be much fun soon.”

***

In the spirit world, Caroline stood next to the window in the room resembling very the Lockwood Mansion. Her mind wondered to a moment a few weeks back.

Flashback

Tyler stood next to Caroline.The light around them shone like it was the brightest sunny day they had ever seen. Three women came to them. They were the norn elders.

"You are granted the wish your hearts desired. We are eternelly greatful for your sacrifice." and as they said it the women disappeared.

As Caroline turned around she found herself in a room so very familiar to her.

"This can't be?! Am I dead - really dead?" the blonde uttered and she found herself in her room. She walked down the stairs to the living room. Her eyes couldn't believe who she saw was standing in it.

"Caroline?!" Klaus uttered in amazment seeing the blonde standing in the room.

Without a word, Caroline went into his arms, squeezing him tightly.

"They let you go!" she exclaimed happily. Then looked at the hybrid.

"My darling" Klaus said smiling a bit and then kissed her.

Soon it became all too clear to Caroline that she had passed away into the spirit world. The reward for fighting bravely against the Hundings was that she could spend eternity with Klaus, lessening his sentence by alowing him to be with her. His blood ultimatively helped make Elena the one who could whitstand the Hunding king.

“Hey, love” Klaus touched the blonde’s shoulder lightly, “are you all right?”

“I am” Caroline said turning to face the hybrid. “It is still kind of weird that we are here - wherever this is. It definitely isn’t the other side - or?”

“It’s not.”Lexi said entering from the side room. “Ok, you guys, I’ve got something.” The former vampire now also a ghost passed a scroll to Klaus. "He used all of us to channel the dark magic helping the witches from underworld awake. And here is something I found he left behind. Do you understand what it says?”

Fylliz fiǫrvifeigra manna,rýðr ragna siǫtrauðom dreyra.Svǫrt verða sólskinof sumor eptir,veðr ǫll vályndVitoð ér enn, eða hvat?

Klaus read it and translated immediately,"It sates itself on the life-blood of fated men, paints red the powers' homes with crimson gore. Black become the sun's beams in the summers that follow,weathers all treacherous. Do you still seek to know? And what?"

"What does it mean?" Caroline wanted to know.

"That's from Ragnarok" Klaus said pensively.

"Right, can you be more specific?!" Caroline looked at him anxiously.

"All Hell will break loose." Klaus said simply.

***

In Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, Hayley returned home from her friends with her daughter Rae. She called for her grandmother walking in the kitchen. The old woman was lying on the floor covered in blood. "Gramps" Hayley tried desperately to wake the woman up. “Please, wake up. Gramps, please.” Taking the woman’s hands the werewolf noticed strange markings made on her palm. It was the triple crescent moon symbol.

#elijah mikaelson #elena gilbert #bonnie bennett #caroline forbes #rebekah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #kol mikaelson #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #tvd family #tvdfandom #tvd fanfiction #fanfiction #elejah #kennett #klaroline #dathrine #stebekah #alternative universe

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maverick-werewolf · 4 years ago

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Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends Preview - Story 6, “Troubled Waters”

Interior illustration from The Hunt Never Ends story, “Troubled Waters”

We’re almost there - the book releases one week from today!

I am a very special kind of stressed, lemme tell you.

This preview is of the final story in the story collection and my personal favorite: “Troubled Waters.” If you didn’t know, this is a preview for my upcoming story collection, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends. It’s a book, but it’s something in-between a novel and a short story collection.

Each story in the book is individual and stands on its own, but they also go in order and build upon each other. So I’m not sure if one should really call it a novel, but it’s also different than just unrelated short stories. It bridges the gap between the two mediums.

Anyway, here’s another preview - enjoy!

For more info on the book itself, you can also check out this post. Also be sure to check out the Hunt Never Ends tag for a whole lot more book previews!

And remember - Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends is available for preorder (digital only; physical available on release date) on Amazon.com!

Pre-Order Link

Please note that, while the ebook is now available for preorder, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends will also be available in paperback on October 30 from the same Amazon listing! Paperbacks cannot be preordered using Amazon’s system, however.

Be sure to check back October 30 for the physical (paperback) edition!

If you’re interested in purchasing the book digitally, you can now pre-order it right here and have it immediately on October 30!

(Paperback edition will be available on Amazon on October 30)

------------

There were a lot of things Caiden knew how to do. Clean a sword. Maintain a bow or a crossbow, even customize the latter almost beyond recognition. Make his own arrows or bolts. Investigate a crime scene. Bandage a wound, make a tourniquet, brew a potion, hunt, forage, track, forge his own tools or weapons, carve wood, build houses or fortifications, command an army, cook meals…

But one thing he didn’t know how to do was read. And it pissed him off.

The beds in Castle Greywatch weren’t much. Some straw, changed daily, for a mattress, and some sackcloth to cover it. Any Venatori better off liked to buy their own beds, but Caiden wasn’t exactly drowning in coin. Following the dullahan encounter on Samhain, Kiya had given him a feather pillow as thanks – he didn’t want to think it had belonged to Relgar, but it probably had – and that was the nicest part of his sleeping arrangement in the castle.

He shifted his back against that pillow, currently squashed between him and the shoddy headboard and struggling to retain any fluffiness as a result. He tried to focus. Focus, he tended to be good at, but staring at the book in his hand almost made him wonder. It was a much smaller bestiary than the one Gwen had been given by Illikon, with a likewise smaller amount of illustrations.

If he had any sense, he would have just asked Gwen for help with reading. But his dignity – or maybe his stubbornness, or both – had long since thrown that idea out. He had all day to struggle with this, unless something came up. So, he reached to the nightstand beside him for the bottle of whiskey there. If there was something Castle Greywatch did have, it was decent booze.

Not that it seemed to be helping right now. It made things a little fuzzier, maybe. Slightly dulled that deep, gnawing, empty pain inside him, but not enough.

After they left Illikon, that feeling had grown louder, rowdier – tried to make itself more known. Whatever it was found claws to dig into his spine, using them to reach his skull. There, it chewed into him, left seeds of growing frustration – restless anger he couldn’t seem to muzzle. Any unwanted feelings of loneliness, of being lost, only got worse. A pulling, a need, telling him to do something.

After a few nights spent at Greywatch, it had grown to take a shape he almost recognized: hunger. Impossibly deep hunger that absolutely nothing satisfied.

That was why he couldn’t think. Not the drink. Not the page in front of him, covered in small symbols supposedly forming words, all of which made no sense. It was the smoldering flame in him turning into an empty inferno, and he had no idea how to put it out – or how to give it more fuel to burn.

Caiden’s eyes lost focus on the bestiary, staring at something inside rather than out. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, his grip on the book loosening, letting it droop.

Some tentative excitement came creeping up the stairs just outside the room. Caiden snapped the book shut and shoved it under his pillow, folding his arms and feeling an awful lot like a five-year-old trying to hide something embarrassing.

Except the bottle of whiskey. Couldn’t really hide that. Not like it mattered, anyway; she already knew it.

Gwen rounded the corner, peering into the room past the partially ajar door. She gave a few tentative knocks, eyes on him.

Caiden grunted. Yeah. Come in. You already have.

When she stepped into the room, Caiden instantly noted she was fully suited up, wearing her leather jerkin, belt of potions, weapons… Which for her, unlike him, was unusual to see when they were around the castle. Something was up.

Gwen paused, looked at him, followed his gaze to the far wall obviously in search of something interesting there, then at him again.

He met her stare evenly. “What?”

She shot the whiskey bottle a glance. “It’s a little early to be drinking, isn’t it?”

Caiden shrugged. Did that actually matter right now?

“Sure… Okay.” Cool worry filled the room, emanating from her, lapping jittery and mildly annoying waves against him. Gwen fumbled with a letter she’d been holding halfway behind her back. “Well, everyone in the great hall was talking missions, and a new one just came in. I snatched it up – thought it might be interesting. It’s not really like anything we’ve done before…”

An unnatural urge to snap at her, tell her to get on with it, rose in his throat and forced him to swallow it. Barely. It settled in his stomach, uncomfortable and heavy, and he tried to tell himself not to be a half-drunk asshole.

“What is it?” he prompted, voice coming out too flat as he struggled to find his usual patience.

That made Gwen screw up her brow at him more than a little, but she said, “There’s a village in the mountains not far from here – secluded little place called Norhaven. It doesn’t seem very noteworthy, except it has its own freshwater spring coming out of a mountain. But now a monster’s attacking them over the water, or that’s what they’re claiming. They say it’s been burning people, of all things, and it only attacks in the dark.”

For half a second, Caiden’s mind stuttered and ground to a halt. The first time he met something that only attacked in the dark, it had been his first monster hunt. It wasn’t something he liked recalling.

But he nodded.

“They… want us there as soon as possible,” Gwen added, almost tentatively. No, not almost. Definitely. Her nerves were frayed. She was worried about something, and it only seemed to get worse the longer she looked at him.

Caiden didn’t much like people worrying about him. He never had.

So he huffed, trying to figure out how to give what she might consider a ‘normal’ response. He stood and popped his neck in a short shock of painful relief. Even if it didn’t help the pinching headache he’d gotten from being bent over a book and trying to read for so long, it felt slightly better.

“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow morning,” said Gwen, still eying him like he was sick.

He eyed her right back. “I’m fine.”

“Caiden, you’ve drunk way more than usual lately – and that’s already saying something – and way earlier in the day. You know how terrible that is for you, right? And besides that, you’re talking even less.”

Gwen frowned. Some kind of hurt came off her then, enough to make his insides almost start to shrivel.

“You can trust me,” she said at length. “If something’s wrong, talk to me about it. Wouldn’t you be the first one to tell me that you need to know if I have something going on, so it doesn’t jeopardize our mission?”

Caiden’s jaw tightened, hard, before he gave it permission. You know she’s right. Yeah, she was right, and he couldn’t tell her. Every word, every phrase that came to mind sounded dismissive. Uncaring, or at least untrusting.

But Gwen gave up fairly quickly, still wearing a frown. She nodded and said, “Okay. Want to leave in an hour or two? It isn’t far to ride. We’ll get there before sundown and we can find a place to sleep.”

Caiden nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll meet you by the stables.”

With that, Gwen turned and left – though not without throwing a quick, and decidedly worried, look back at him over her shoulder.

(More preview under the cut!)

------------

“These attacks,” said Gwen, “do they usually happen around the spring, under the trees?”

Asger nodded. “Mostly.”

“And has anyone been in that cave since it started?”

“Where the source is? Gods, no. Gotta have a deathwish to walk into the dark after this thing.”

“Yeah,” Caiden said, already walking around the trees and toward the cave. Behind him, Asger sputtered, while Gwen’s quiet footfalls and building, anxious excitement followed in his wake.

“Go on back to town and get some rest, Asger,” Gwen called back to him.

Caiden stopped before the mouth of the cave and squinted into it, reaching for a potion on his belt: one to enhance his senses. Beside him now, Gwen shifted, tension radiating from her like constant lightning.

“If you drink that and that thing burns you, it’ll really hurt,” she said. “I heard some Venatori pass out from pain if something catches them with one of those.”

Caiden huffed. “I didn’t last time. I won’t this time either.”

Just as he drained the potion bottle, Asger’s panting caught up with them again as he stopped by their side, drawing his bodkin dagger and holding it up in a shaking hand. Gwen blinked at him, and Caiden furrowed his brow.

Asger’s face slowly drained of color as he stared at Caiden’s eyes – a side-effect of the potion was his eyes glowing. Not much, just softly, but it tended to scare the hell out of the average person.

“You probably shouldn’t come with us,” Gwen offered slowly, like she was trying to calm Asger down from some fit of panic. “Especially since… your weapon there looks like something my partner might pick his teeth with.”

“This’s a finely-made dagger, I’ll have you know,” Asger blurted. “And I’m the watchman here, this is part of my job. Let’s go on then—”

He stepped forward, but Caiden snapped one hand out and got a firm grip on Asger’s arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m on point,” he said. “You shouldn’t come, but if you’re following us, then stay behind me. Gwen…”

“On it. I’ll cover your rear— I mean, the rear.” A blush quickly rose in her cheeks. “Tom ruined me,” Caiden faintly heard her mutter under her breath.

Caiden grunted. Then he turned and led the way.

Didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust, then to adapt, thanks to that potion. Faint moonlight spilling in let him see limestone walls slick with condensation and a violently gushing spring, churning the water on the far end of the cavern at the base of the wall. Spitting it out straight into the reservoir, the flow of it turning gentle by the time it left the cave.

Heavy mist hung in the air here, maybe kicked up by the water. But something didn’t seem right.

Then he realized why.

Fear washed down upon them like frigid rain – so much fear that, for half a second, it froze every muscle in Caiden’s body. His nerves pulled taut, ready to break and snap down on him like a whip, hard enough to leave a few more scars on his back. Hand shooting to his sword hilt in a white-knuckle grip, he drew in a sharp breath and fought the chill that ran fast up his spine and forced him to be afraid.

This wasn’t natural. Gwen, from the way she was suddenly fumbling with her gear, seemed to know it.

Asger, on the other hand, didn’t. He bellowed out a hoarse shout, nearly fell spinning around to face the exit, and ran for the cave mouth.

All around them, a shrill voice echoed, “Leave this place!”

It spoke the words very clearly – not the gibberish he’d been told about.

Everything happened at once. A rush of air ripped by him, trailing cold in its wake, like off the surface of the spring itself. Asger screamed, his heavy boots scuffing the stone as something made him stumble and fall. Caiden charged forward at a surging shadow, blade ready to swing.

And an arrow lodged itself in his upper arm with a hard lance of pain and a meaty thunk.

Caiden coughed out a grunt and staggered from the impact, the arrow locking up his sword arm and stopping him mid-strike. Whatever had come past him and attacked Asger seemed already gone, moving faster than he could even understand.

Gwen appeared beside him in an instant, hand on his uninjured left arm and sputtering apologies. “Caiden!? I – gods— I shouldn’t have tried to shoot it, it moved so fast—”

The cave around him was far from silent. Asger swore as he scrambled to his feet, Gwen kept on apologizing as she tried in vain to tug Caiden out of the cave until he, halfway in a stupor, finally staggered along after her.

Boots against stone. Grass under their feet, bright moonlight overhead. Plenty of pain in his right arm that twitched useless and limp at his side.

These sensations stayed, but something was missing.

He’d heard once that silence was golden. He had never understood what ‘silence’ entirely meant. This was the closest he’d ever come.

The whispers had stopped – the fleeting memories. All of it. The fear from the monster was gone – his, Asger’s, Gwen’s – he felt no terror from anyone, though they still looked afraid. Sounded afraid. Moved like it. But he couldn’t sense it. It didn’t invade his mind, twist into him, and try to make itself at home.

And he suddenly felt blind. Deaf. Neither of those things, yet both at once – because it was gone. A sense he had known for his entire life, something that was always there. Gone, no trace left. He felt dumb.

Caiden blinked. Furrowed his brow. His shoulders tensed, pulled against the arrow still biting deep into his arm, and made him wince.

What the hell was going on?

In the corner of his vision, he saw Gwen fumble for something in a pouch on her belt, only to draw out the shattered neck of a bottle. She swore and threw it aside, turning her attention to him instead as he stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.

“Caiden – Caiden, hey, look at me!” Gwen grabbed the harness around his shoulders and tugged on it hard enough for his eyes to snap to her and stare. Her face was pale. “That arrow was poisoned. Okay? You’re probably woozy right now; it’s very fast-acting…”

“Gwen—”

She sucked in a hard breath and blurted, “Caiden if you say ‘I’m fine’ I swear to Athena I will punch you in the stomach.”

He paused and cocked his head at her, his mouth ever so slightly ajar.

“Listen,” she said, voice quivering and straining to sound strong, “the bottle for the antidote I had on me broke – I have more of it, but it’s in my saddlebag. We have to get you to the inn so we can get that arrow out and I can give you the antidote. Okay?”

“Just pull it out,” Caiden mumbled, his words coming out slurred.

“I’m not doing that, you don’t just suddenly pull an arrow out – there are procedures for this!”

One sharp tug on his uninjured arm later, and he was following her back down the mountain path, both of them led by a stumbling Asger. The watchman looked at a deep welt on his forearm, his flesh twisted and reddened – what was left of it. Most of it had burned off entirely. Asger swore more colorfully than the average sailor, wearing a deep grimace.

He separated from them with a few hurried words to Gwen – words Caiden should’ve heeded, but paid no attention to – and disappeared into a nearby home. Gwen kept leading the way, up the stairs and into the inn, still tugging on Caiden’s uninjured arm.

“By Jove!” the innkeeper shouted, starting up in an instant from where he’d been sitting in his quiet tavern.

He quickly started throwing questions, which Gwen just as quickly deflected. She mostly did that by dumping a handful of coins on the counter and asking for two rooms. All the while, Caiden leaned his uninjured arm on the nearest table and pulled in one deep breath after another.

Pain quickly found its way across his body, tightening every muscle and settling heavily in his chest, like having molten lead poured into his lungs. It didn’t leave him any room to breathe, and that didn’t leave him much room to think.

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