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silens-oro · 1 year

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Spoils of War: 7. The Wheel

Aemond Targaryen x F!Targaryen!Reader Minor side relationships with the reader will be present throughout this.

Spoils of War Masterlist Masterlist

Synopsis: The Wheel of War begins to turn.

Word Count: ~18k (absolutely absurd)

General Warning: 18+. POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR UPCOMING HOTD EPISODES. Targaryen uncle/niece incest (lite, nothing truly weird other than they are both Targaryens), blood, gore, murder, child murder, animal sacrifice (not really but I'm warning still), nudity, ptsd, mention of r*ape (none occurs). Let me know if I've missed any!

AN: This took way longer to finish than I anticipated it would. By the time I finished writing, this chapter was over 20k words. I had to do some major edits, and throw some of the bulk into the next chapter. I've adored the feedback I've received on this story, so please keep sending it in! From this point forward, it is going to get very messy, very quickly. Thank you all for reading! This story is a literal labor of love that has taken many, many weeks of writing DAILY and editing to get to this point. I've never felt the attachment to anything I've written like I feel to this story, so I hope you're all enjoying it as much as I am.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated.

A putrid smell hit Aemond’s nostrils as he stepped down the staircase leading to the dungeon. It smelled of death and decay, and was absolutely unmistakable. A stone catapulted to the pit of his stomach, the dread that seeped through him was enough to make him sick if the smell alone didn’t.

Aemond had been absent for the last week due to princely duties as his grandsire called them. They were nothing more than to show the might of Vhagar to those who toed the line of support to the Green’s cause. Duty was duty, nonetheless, but Aemond could not return to you quick enough.

The first thought he had as he entered the dungeon was that you perished, by your own hand most likely. His Shadow, as she had done in his absences previous, was supposed to check in on you nightly. By the smell, the decay was days along. His Shadow probably feared what he would do should he find out his beloved had accomplished what he tried so hard to prevent. She was right, of course. No death would be quick enough for her, and he would find her -he promised himself. He’d skin the little wretch alive with his bare hands when he caught her.

Aemond kept his torch in front of himself to illuminate the stale darkness. A squelching noise was the first sound to meet his keen ears. It was faint, but present. He brought the sleeve of his coat to his nose to alleviate some of the stench that permeated the air. It was sickly sweet and rancid with a copper tinge to it that turned his stomach. His feet moved quickly over the dusty floor to reach your cell.

Aemond saw that the door to the cell was ajar before the rest of the cell came into view. His heart pounded as he stopped at the foot of it. A body, swarmed with devouring rats, was on the floor. Dark, clotted blood surrounded it as the rats munched at what was left of the soft tissue of the person’s legs and innards. The face was covered by your wool blanket, seemingly untouched by the vermin.

As Aemond crouched down with the torch, the rats scurried in all directions -squealing at the intrusion- but a rat with a stump for a paw stood in the furthest corner, watching his every move.

Aemond quickly tossed the blanket from the body and relief immediately filled him when he saw dark hair in place of Targaryen silver, but that relief quickly turned to rage and anxiety. He stood swiftly, kicking the dirty blanket to the side.

“Idiot girl!” He seethed at the body, breathing heavily. He brought a hand to his head and paced to sooth his growing panic.

His hand ran down his face as he glared at the decaying body of his Shadow with absolute hatred filling his eye. His angular mouth was set in a sneer at the reality that was facing him. So many thoughts and questions swirled through his mind as he tried to piece together what had happened. How did you lure his Shadow into the cell? How did you break free? How did you escape from the dungeon without being seen?

Aemond’s eyes caught sight of your open shackles and the single key that lay discarded on the ground next to them. His eye narrowed and he looked down at the girl once more. He could see bloody slits in the girl’s shirt where the rats hadn’t chewed through quite yet.

She had a weapon, he thought. She did not escape on her own.

The next thought he had was what would happen if you made it out of King’s Landing. Surely you’d return to Dragonstone -back to your father. Ravens would surely descend upon the Keep, alerting his mother of what he had done. That the Princess was alive and had been alive this whole time. Whatever her reaction would be, his grandsire’s would surely be thrice as bad.

The tendrils of madness scratched at the far corners of his mind as he tried to think five steps ahead.

If he had stolen you once, he would most assuredly be able to do it again. You were his, after all.

Aemond loathed the filth of Flea Bottom, and once more he was in search of someone hiding amongst the shit, piss, and rats. He hoped you hadn’t gone too far and that you were still holed up somewhere in the city. If you were, he’d be able to flush you out.

Though his hood was covering his face, he did not blend in. His face was easily recognizable and it only took one single person to stop him in his tracks.

“Have you lost something, my Prince?” A woman spoke brazenly as she stepped out of a doorway he passed. Her eyes were reminiscent of a snake’s as they zeroed in on him. Aemond had half a mind to ignore the woman, but something about the way she looked at him let him know she knew exactly who he was looking for.

“Perhaps.” He did not give the woman more than that.

“Perhaps,” She mirrored with an arch of her brow. “Is it a bird that has escaped its cage?” She asked coyly. “It…is…a bird you are looking for, my Prince?” Aemond’s eye turned to a slit.

“A bird?”

“Hm…swore I saw a little wren fly to the ports not six nights past. However, if it is not a wren you are looking for, I apologize for the interruption, my Prince. I wish you luck in your endeavor.” She bowed and turned to recede back into the darkness of the pitiful dwelling, but Aemond was quick to stop her. She turned her chin over her shoulder and raised a sparse brow at him.

“…What do you know of this…wren?” The woman grinned and nodded for him to follow behind her. Aemond looked around him, deeming the coast clear of any onlookers, and followed her in.

Aemond returned to the Red Keep after dark with no further luck on your current whereabouts, other than you had fled on a ship in the cover of night with a handful of Northerners.

The Warden of the North came to fetch his bride, was what the woman told him. The words alone nearly set him into a rage. He was so careful, so very careful to keep your whereabouts a secret, and now it was all for naught.

Aemond’s anxiety peaked when he entered the Keep as he was met with absolute chaos. Guards were stationed at every entrance, at every staircase. They were stationed at every “secret” entrance and all had their eyes on the lookout. For what, he didn’t know.

“The Queen Dowager requests your presence at once, my Prince.” A guard fetched Aemond as he saw the Prince stride into the Keep. “It is of the utmost urgency.”

A new mess to clean up, no doubt, he thought to himself with a roll of his eye. He turned on his heel to follow the guard to his mother’s solar where he could hear an awful wailing from within as he turned down the hall. Aemond’s brows furrowed when he opened the door, and his jaw nearly hit the floor at what he saw inside.

The man who carried you through King’s Landing helped you step off the ship and onto the docks of Dragonstone. Once your feet hit the solid wood, you took a breath to center yourself. It took a moment to stabilize yourself on shaky legs as he held onto your arms.

“Can you walk?” The man asked, his voice deep and his northern accent thick. Looking up into his dark eyes, you nodded with a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” You whispered sincerely. Thank you for pulling me out of the dungeon. Thank you for carrying me through King’s Landing. Thank you for delivering me home.

“You are most welcome, Princess.” For the first time, he gave you a kind smile and a nod. His gaze moved over your head and you turned to follow where he was looking.

There, at the beginning of the dock, stood your father with Ser Erryk and Ser Lorent. Your father’s hair blew with the breeze and painted a serene portrait of ferocity and stateliness. Your legs were moving towards him before your brain could catch up. Once your eyes connected with his, your father rushed down the docks with long, hurried steps to meet you in the middle. His arms wrapped you in an embrace that you wished to never part from.

He held you -oh he held you. He squeezed you to him as hard as he could as you sobbed into his chest. His scent that was undeniably home wafted into your senses and it all became too much too soon. Your father’s outward display of affection, in front of such an audience, was a rarity and it told you just how dire your disappearance was to him.

Your rescuers stayed back to let you have your moment with your father.

“There are horses and provisions ready for your journey,” Your father motioned to the top of the dunes. “For Lord Stark,” He held a scroll out.

“Can they not rest here for the night, father?” You questioned. Surely those who risked their necks for you deserved a moment to breathe.

“We thank you for the extension, my Princess, but we do have a long journey ahead of us. We must reach the North before the worst of winter hits if we are to make the journey in as little time as possible.” The woman spoke as she walked up to take the scroll and secure it in the satchel around her shoulder.

“This will not be forgotten.” Your father stated, his eyes holding contact with the woman. She merely nodded with a small grin and bowed. The man who carried you followed suit, and the rest of the men on the boat followed silently as they trailed behind.

“My girl.” Your father spoke in your native tongue as he held your face in his hands, looking you up and down to survey the damage that had been done, noting just how shattered the light in your eyes had become. “What has he done to you?” His voice shook. Never, not once in your life, had you heard his voice tremble. He pulled you into his chest once more.

You shook your head as you held onto him with everything you had. The warmth of your father’s embrace was a comforting security blanket. Nothing and no one could harm you from within his arms.

You longed for your bed with each step you took. An awful pain grew in the back of your eyes as you were led through the archway that opened into the Keep. The sights and sounds of the world outside of your cell were overwhelming -even still, weeks later. You rubbed at your eyes as you followed behind your father. The instant change from sunlight to shadow was a relief.

Jaws dropped as you passed by servants and guards. You noted a handmaid scurry to the western wing, no doubt to spread the news of your resurrection.

You must’ve looked a sight. Dressed in an oversized tunic and trousers that were fastened to your waist with a strand of rope, as well as some boots that were clearly a size too big on your feet. Your clothes alone were well below your station, but they were clean and that was more than you had in that cell for weeks at a time.

The mess of hair on your head was another story entirely. The salty air and briney water were not kind to it. You hadn’t a clue what your own face looked like. While you had bathed on the small vessel, you did not dare look upon your own reflection in the water. Though the temptation was there, you did not know if your mind could survive looking upon the monster that would surely be looking back.

Your father led you up to the council chambers. The room, to your surprise, was empty as you entered. Natural light filtered in from the high windows, but that was all that gave life to the otherwise dark room.

“Sit.” Your father instructed, motioning to the chair at the furthest end of the table. He then nodded to both Queen’s Guards and they set off in opposite directions. A heavy silence overtook the room. Not a single thought flowed through your mind as your father paced for a moment before dropping down into a squat beside your knee.

His eyes held yours in a hypnotizing stare. “I have never felt more relief than I did when you stepped off that ship, byka hontes.” Birdie. It was a nickname you hadn’t heard since you were a child. Your love for the skies at such a young age had graced you with the moniker by your father and your father alone.

As you grew older, he began to treat you more and more like a Princess grown and less like the perpetually small child that clinged onto his legs, and the name soon faded into the deep recesses of your mind until it was merely a memory lost to time.

Daemon’s hands gently held your scabbed wrists, his thumbs rubbing the puffy, pink scars where the scabs had fallen. “Aemond held you in irons?” You nodded, breaking the eye contact between you.

“He was adamant on keeping me under lock and key…until the war ended, anyway. My shackles would only then be metaphorical.” Your father wanted to tell you he saw this coming -the look in his eyes said as much. As happy as he was to have you within reach once more, it was also in his nature to boast when his warnings were not heeded. Surprising you, he did not so much as utter the words ‘I told you so’. Instead, he decided to speak on something so much worse.

“I am asking this before anyone else enters this room, and it shall never be brought up again if you so wish it, but I must know…” Your eyes turned to look into his once more. “Did Aemond force himself on you?” Your face melted into a look of disgust.

“My maidenhead is the first thing you question? After all I’ve been through? After all we’ve lost?” Anger began to build. Daemon shook his head, holding a hand out to keep you seated. His brows were furrowed in irritation.

“No, you silly girl.” The term ‘silly girl’ was never used teasingly when he called you it, and it always struck a nerve when he said it. “I worry for you. I don’t give two shits about your maidenhead.” He returned just as angrily. “I wish to know if my daughter was defiled, if there is a chance that you carry that cunt’s seed in your womb. It will be dealt with if he did, rest assured.” Your stomach clenched at the thought. Your anger had passed on to something along the lines of anxiety as you shook your head.

“He did not, and he would not.” You answered stoically. “Aemond would not force himself on anyone, much less me, father. In that I can promise you. There were plenty of opportunities and not once did he attempt it.” Where Aemond drew the line between what he believed would be acceptable and unacceptable in the eyes of the Seven baffled you as his own morals were so wildly skewed.

“You think he is incapable of such depravity?” The question was asked as if you were stupid, naive. A silly girl.

“I think any man is capable of such depravity, but I know he would not do it, much less do it to me.” You said adamantly.

“There was also a time when you didn’t think it was in his character to cause you harm, to hold you in chains.” He responded point blank. “And yet your brother is dead, you were taken, and we’ve lost two dragons. Because of him!” He raised his voice. “Tell me once more how well you know him!” Your eyes narrowed and a deep frown sat heavily upon your mouth. You did not blame your father for how he lashed out, not after what he and your mother had surely dealt with -are still dealing with. It still hurt, nonetheless.

“I am not defending him, father. You asked a question and I gave you my answer. You need not remind me of what has been lost. I was there. I saw it. I felt it. I heard it.” You stated defiantly. “I harbor enough guilt in my heart that I do not need to be lectured on it.” You were tired -exhausted- and his line of questioning was beginning to eat away at your patience.

A gasp from the top of the staircase broke the growing tension. Your father stood upright, but did not move from his place next to you. You also stood in respect to your Queen Mother. She held onto Ser Erryk’s arm to keep herself from teetering over in shock. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked upon you. You noted the look of horror that crossed her face as she got a good look at your own the closer she crept. Her eyes shifted between you and Daemon, then back to you. Ser Erryk assisted her down the stairs and once she reached the bottom, she tore towards you in a flurry.

Rhaenyra pulled you to her, sobbing into your shoulder as she held you.

“My child!” She wailed, whispering your name over and over. You held her tightly, anchoring her to the floor in reassurance that you weren’t a figment of her imagination. Your father brought a hand to her back and rubbed soothing circles between her shoulders. She pulled back, looking between you and your father with a thousand questions fluttering within her eyes. “How?” Was the only one that she could physically ask. You looked to your father.

“I would also like to know.”

Your father had given his own explanation of what transpired. Jace had acquired the likes of your future Lord Husband, Cregan Stark, to locate you based on a feeling in Jace’s gut that you were not dead. That silly, little feeling that Jace held on to, that Cregan Stark believed in, is the reason why you were sat at the Painted Table, free of your shackles and free of Aemond.

And so, you told your parents everything. Every little detail from your less than pleasant visit to Storm’s End, to Luke’s murder, to your brutal capture and the subsequent death of Maestron. You told them of your time in the pitch black darkness of the abandoned dungeon of the Red Keep, and of Aemond’s shadow. You told them of your hunger strike and how Aemond and his shadow held you down and force fed you until you could not breathe.

Your father paced back and forth like a caged lion as you retold your tale, and you noted the look of surprise and pride when you mentioned how you tricked Aemond’s Shadow into opening your cell and how she met an end she was worthy of.

Your mother sat silently with tears of rage falling endlessly as you recounted every detail that had been unknown to them until this very moment..

“Did Alicent know you were there?” She questioned, her lips set in a firm line.

“Aemond made it clear, and he could’ve been lying, but his shadow was the only other person who knew I was down there.” You picked at one of your broken fingernails, hissing when it splintered just a little too far up.

“If there were any families sitting on the fence, they won’t be anymore.” Your father spoke as he stopped to lean on the table. “The true Princess of the Realm held captive in a dungeon by her crazed kinslayer uncle? Their backs will turn on the Greens in an instant.”

“I see you are ever so quick to jump at the opportunity.” Your mother spat. “Can we not have a mere fucking moment to appreciate that our daughter is still with us?” You sat silently, not surprised by your father’s behavior. You’ve seen the best and the worst of him throughout your life. You knew the man inside and out, and you knew he loved you, but he was also a Targaryen Prince and with that came a certain type of tenacity that did not sit well with most.

“Your Grace,” Ser Erryk interrupted as he came back down the stairs to the first landing. “Apologies for the interruption, but Blood has returned.”

“Bring him in.” Your father commanded with a nefarious grin. Ser Erryk looked to his Queen, who merely nodded, and he turned to fetch whoever this ‘Blood’ was. “Aemond was stupid enough to draw first blood.” Your father explained after seeing confusion cross your features. “Now his family is feeling what ours has.”

Blood was a tall man, massive, wide, and imposing as he calmly took each step into the council room. His cragged face was adorned with a large scar trailing from his left eyebrow all the way past his jawline. His dark eyes were wide and absolutely terrifying when they met yours. A crooked grin stretched his lips when he saw you shift back in your chair. He had the largest arms you had ever seen on a man and you were certain he could snap your neck in an instant if he so wanted to. There was an air of darkness that shrouded him and the sack he carried over his shoulder.

Ser Erryk kept a close distance to the man, carefully putting himself in the line of fire should Blood try to make a go at either you or the Queen. His hand never left the hilt of his sword as his eyes watched every move the man made.

Your father placed a pouch on the Painted Table. The clang it made let you know that there was quite a hefty sum inside. Blood, in turn, swung the sack from over his shoulders and emptied its contents onto the table. An involuntary gasp left you the second two small decomposing heads rolled towards you. Pushing your chair back in a panic, it nearly tipped over had Ser Erryk not been there to catch it. You held a hand to your mouth to stop from dry heaving.

Blood tossed the empty sack on the table and snatched the pouch of gold. He opened it, looked inside, and made a humming noise in satisfaction at what he saw.

“Should you need our assistance again, your Grace, you know where to find us.” Your father dismissed the assassin and Ser Erryk followed after him.

Your mother’s face was stoic and your father looked quite pleased. Your heart hurt for these children, but your mind flashed to Lucerys. He may not have been as young as the two before you, but he was still a child nonetheless. This wouldn’t bring your brother back, but you knew how much this would hurt Helaena, and by extension Aemond and their mother. The corner of your mouth twitched up at the thought.

Let this be a lesson to them, you thought ruefully, and let them see the headless bodies of those children every time they gazed upon Aemond.

“A son for a son. A daughter for a daughter.” Your father said simply. You could not break your eyes from the lifeless milky gazes of young Princess Jaehaera and her twin Prince Jaehaerys. This act would surely set the wheel of war into full motion.

“You’ve done this!” Alicent screamed the moment Aemond entered. Her face was splotched red and her voice was hoarse as she pointed an accusing finger at her son. He looked to the shrouded bodies on the floor and back to her, and in an instant she was on him.

The slap echoed in the room, and just for good measure, she slapped him again on his opposite cheek. The blows were painful and full of rage he knew was building inside of her.

“Look at them!” She grabbed Aemond by his wrist and dragged him to the shrouded bodies. She pulled the sheet in a flurry and Aemond felt as if he would throw up in an instant. “Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are dead! Assassinated before our very eyes, Aemond! The heir to the throne, my grandchildren, beheaded because of choices you made! Look at them!” Alicent grabbed Aemond’s chin and tilted his head down so he had to look at them. He felt his eye tear up at the sight of their small bodies. His niece and nephew had adored him, just as he adored them, and now they lay slain before him. His mother was right.

“A son for a son. A daughter for a daughter.” Alicent spat, covering her grandchildren once more before they were taken to the Silent Sisters for funeral preparations. Alicent stormed to her chambers and Aemond caught a glimpse of an absolutely devastated Helaena. Aemond felt his breath leave him.

You were alive and Sweet Jaehaera died for nothing.

Ser Erryk accompanied you to your quarters. At the command of your Queen Mother, the knight was now tasked with being your sworn shield. Gods only knew what Aemond would do now that you were no longer under this thumb, topped with the assassinations of his eldest niece and nephew. Ser Erryk took his place dutifully outside as you entered your chambers, offering his assistance should you need anything.

Myra, your ever trusted handmaiden, was already inside preparing for your arrival in the short time she was given. Her shining eyes met yours before she bowed her head.

“My Princess.” Myra greeted with a warm smile. “A hot bath is being drawn as we speak.” In her arms was your robe, slippers, and nightgown. It was late in the day and the sun was starting its slow descent towards the horizon, you noted as you looked through the balcony doors. Nodding to Myra, you followed her from your chambers with Ser Erryk trailing closely behind.

You had not truly known what the grave look your mother initially gave you meant until you got your first look at yourself in months when you returned to your chambers after your much needed soak. Myra had made sure the orange blossom oils you loved so much were replenished and waiting for you when you stepped into the tub.

The scent was soothing.

The flaking scabs around your wrists still ached with each flex of the skin. The puffy, pink scars left behind were a scathing reminder that mocked you day in and day out. The pink rings around your ankles fared much better -they didn’t quite ache as much, nor were the scars terrible. They would fade with time.

It was your face that haunted your mother. As Myra managed her way through your tangles tenderly, you could only look upon yourself with a heavy frown as you sat in front of the reflecting glass of your dressing table.

Your once beautiful hair’s ends were split and broken off, giving it a jagged appearance at the ends. Your skin, though it had gained some of its natural color back on your journey back to Dragonstone, was still ashen and malnourished. The circles under your eyes were dark, creating a sunken effect. Cracked were your lips, perpetually it seemed. A deep line split your bottom lip down the middle but it had been that way since the beginning of your captivity, so it no longer really bothered you.

“The maester will be bringing up salves, my Princess. We will get you back into working order in no time. Don’t you fret.” Myra spoke softly as she caught your lifeless gaze in the mirror. She gave you a reassuring smile and you could only nod. “If I may be so bold,” She looked into your eyes in the mirror. You nodded once more. “You have been missed terribly, my Princess. I am filled with relief that you are alive.” Myra’s earnestness made tears well in your eyes. Myra immediately panicked. “I apologize, my Princess! I did not mean to upset you!” Your hand tugged at her wrist and you pulled her into a hug.

Myra, though she was your handmaiden, and was a dear friend. She had been by your side since you reached maturity and she was loyal to a fault.

“My return to Dragonstone has been…overwhelming.” You explained as you pulled away gently. “It lightens my heart to hear your kind words, Myra.” She gave you a sad smile and nodded before continuing to work through your hair.

By the time Myra was done with you, the sun was just peeking over the water’s edge. Before she took her leave, you requested that she let Ser Erryk know that, with her exception, you did not want to be disturbed.

You lounged upright upon the cushioned chaise on your balcony. You wrapped yourself in a blanket taken from your bed, breathing in the fresh air with a newfound appreciation. Dragons flew freely in the distance as they entered and exited the many caves and vents of the Dragonmont.

Your heart ached terribly as you brought your head to your hands and hunched over, allowing the blanket to fully cocoon you. Guilt flowed through your blood with each pump of your heart and it tendriled through you like poison. The cushion beside you dipped and a hand placed itself on your blanketed back. The presence was familiar and comforting, and you immediately tilted your body to rest against them as they held you. Not a single word was spoken between you until darkness began to shroud the island.

“It seems that I have you to thank for my rescue.” Your voice cracked as you brought your head out of the blanket to finally look upon Jace. He had aged well past his six and ten years since you last saw him, due to stress and grief. A hint of dark stubble had started to grace his jaw.

“I merely kept hope. It was Lord Stark that devised the plan. It is he who is owed the credit.” Jace sat back in the chaise, pulling you back with him to keep you nestled safely in his side. His hand ran up and down your covered arm.

“I am…grateful all the same.” You choked out, trying to hold yourself together. You were tired of crying, tired of letting your own grief overtake everything you felt. You wanted to sleep and never open your eyes to the world again.

“Lord Stark accepted the betrothal before you went missing.” Jace spoke softly, looking out over the open ocean. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a beautiful glow over the island and its surrounding waters. “I like to think that it was my shining descriptions of you that sold him on the idea.”

“And it seems that was his stipulation upon my release.” Your tone held a sharpness to it. “I am to go from one man’s prison to the next.” Jace sighed as he pulled from you gently so that you may face one another. “It doesn't matter. I am not the same person I was before. He will soon learn that.” Jace said your name softly.

“You are my sister, and that is enough for him. The North, for all its perceived faults, is not the prison you imagine it to be. You have always trusted my word, so please trust me when I say that if there was ever a man worthy of your hand, it is Cregan Stark.” Jace’s plea was heartfelt, this much you knew. “He has sworn to me that he would treat you with honor and respect. I think you’ll warm up to Winterfell quite quickly, as I did. Cregan will take care of you and you will be safe. This I promise.”

“You seem close…you call him by his first name as if he is blood.” You eyed Jace suspiciously.

“After word reached Winterfell of what happened to you…what happened to Luke…” Jace trailed off. “Lord Stark was supportive while I mourned.” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “He was kind enough to host me in Winterfell for a few weeks longer than intended and during that time we came to an agreement, a blood oath of brotherhood. In my heart of hearts I knew you couldn’t be dead. Aemond would sooner turn his sword on himself than kill you, regardless of his mindset. I was certain then, and it turns out that I was right.”

“If only he had done that to begin with and spared us all a world of hurt.” You mumbled, leaning back into Jace. The ebb and flow of the sea filled the silence between you and Jace.

“Daemon saw to it that Maestron’s skull be reclaimed from the Hook.” Jace spoke softly. “He is resting in the crypts should you wish to see him. We…could not find Arrax.” You wouldn’t, you wanted to say. He’s scattered like ash. Just as Luke is. You kept the words to yourself and let them fester within.

Just as Luke is.

Just as you should be.

Fluorescent yellow flames encircled you, enveloping your being in heat, protection and serenity. The dragonfire did not scorch your skin as it wrapped around each limb, the rays braided through your hair, taking on the glow. Floating, your feet never touched the ground as you drifted higher and higher within the darkness. A deep rumble vibrated through your entire body. It shook the walls of the cavern, causing pebbles to fall around you.

An eye, vividly chartreuse, appeared from the darkness and floated closer to your face. The size was massive, nearly the size of your head -if not bigger. The slitted pupil contracted as it got closer to the flames around you. The reflection of the ethereal fire bounced off its glossy, rounded surface.

The eye blinked, the reptilian lids moving both vertically and horizontally, then it distanced itself from you and in its place a muzzle -as black as the darkness around you- came into view. The salivating jaws opened to display endless rows of sharp teeth. You could smell the dragon’s putrid breath, reeking of death and decay.

Your eyes shot open, a gasp escaped your mouth as the distant sound of a dragon’s roar -mighty in its volume all the way from the Dragonmont- caught your ears. Looking to your open balcony, you felt a pull in your soul you never thought you would feel again in your lifetime. Standing quickly in the candlelit room, the cold stone floor was shocking to the heat of your feet as you walked to the balcony and stood at its ledge.

This pull felt different than it had with Maestron, but it was familiar enough for you to recognize.

There was only one dragon alive who was black as coal and had eyes of the brightest green. You were reminded of the same feeling of awe you had as a child when the dragon came to mind. Though you had only set your eyes upon him a handful of times, it was always from a far enough distance that you never got to truly see the intricate details of his powerful body. Your father made it abundantly clear as a young girl that neither you, nor Maestron, were to ever come close to crossing paths with this particular beast.

“I have never seen a dragon such as him, papa. He is quite beautiful.” Your ten year old self stared in wonder from the shores just outside of Dragonstone’s Keep. There was a gap where one of the last of your front baby teeth had fallen out in recent weeks, and it was visible to your father as your jaw dropped in wonder at the dragon who flew out of the Mont and over the open ocean.

Two dragonkeepers were behind you and your father, guiding Maestron back to where the other wyrmlings were kept near the Keep. Your wyrmling was not yet big enough to ride, and neither were you ready to ride him, but your father insisted you spend as much time with the dragon as you could so your bond was inseparable by the time you could ride him.

“Does it have a name, Kepa?” He shook his head.

“Not as your Maestron does, sweetling. This dragon has only a nickname given to him by the smallfolk of the villages.” Your father explained. “He is a feral dragon, the eldest of the wild bunch if my memory serves me.”

“Older than Sheepstealer? Grey Ghost?” Your father chuckled. The far more docile wild dragons had alway piqued your interest -the elusive Grey Ghost especially as he liked to stay hidden within the mists of the Mont and surrounding waters. You had seen even less of his appearance than that of the dragon that currently held your attention.

“Yes, even older than Sheepstealer and Grey Ghost, Birdie, and just as they have -he’s been riderless his whole life.” Your eyes didn’t leave the dragon’s obsidian scales until he was so far away, he disappeared into the horizon.

“Did he not hatch in a crib?” Your confusion brought a grin to your father’s face.

“No, that is why they are called wild dragons, Birdie. No one really knows for sure where he came from. Some say he was hatched in the Dragonmont. Some even say he was hatched just before Aenar rode Balerion over the seas from Valyria and landed here, but that would make him quite old, wouldn’t it?” He looked down as you nodded. “Most believe he is from a different dragon lineage altogether, which is why he looks so different from the other dragons. I believe this to be true. It could also explain why he acts with hostility towards our Valyrian dragons. He is a mystery, nonetheless, and will remain as such.” Daemon shook his head, his shoulder length hair swayed in the breeze, eyes looking down to lock with yours. “He eats up anyone foolish enough to even step near his nest in the Mont, especially curious little dragonriders. Few have tried to bond with him, and all have failed. Their bones litter his nest, it is said.” You looked upon your father with wide eyes.

“He eats them?” You asked with a frown.

“He does.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not a dragonrider yet.” There was relief in your voice.

“But you will be, Birdie. Be warned, little one. It isn’t just curious little dragonriders he likes to feast on. He will consume anything he comes across. People, animals, other dragons -wyrmlings especially.” You looked over to Maestron’s retreating form in a panic. “That is why we keep them and the newly nested eggs separate from the larger dragons, lest they be feasted on. We wouldn’t want that, would we?” You shook your head at the thought of Maestron perishing before he could even fly.

Though, there was something that drew you to the beast in the sky. To be unbonded for so long, living freely to do as he pleased thrilled you. The dragon had quite the reputation.

Your father squatted down in front of you, his hands holding onto your tiny arms gently. “That is why you must always be cautious in the skies, my Birdie. Dragons such as he will not think twice about swallowing you and your wyrmling whole.” His hand came up to push a bit of hair from your face. “He is nicknamed the Cannibal for a reason.”

“The Cannibal.” You tested the name out, your lips pulling into a grin. “Had Maestron not hatched, I think I would be worthy of riding the Cannibal.” Your father let out a laugh, standing up straight with a groan that only adults seemed to let out when they rested on joints for too long. “Don’t you think, kepa?”

“You do not heed my warnings?” He asked with a raise of a brow.

“I do! That is why my Maestron will be the most bloodthirsty dragon in the Seven Kingdoms once he is grown, since I cannot ride the fearsome Cannibal! Maestron will be feared by all just as the Cannibal is feared! When I am older, I will be the fiercest dragonrider to exist! None shall cross me or they will perish!” You had your father’s tenacity, his thirst for victory, and for your own reputation. He saw himself fully when he stared down at you.

“Indeed you shall, for you are my daughter. The Realm will know your name for generations to come, and those who cross you and your mighty Maestron will quake in their boots, I am sure of it.” He smiled genuinely and gave you a pat on your head in affection.

“If my Maestron were to ever fall, I would surely ride the Cannibal.” You had every confidence in the world that your words were true. "I am brave enough."

“Will you now?” His tone was teasing as he lifted your squirming body into his strong arms. Your giggles and screams filled the air as he nibbled at your shoulder playfully. “Such girlish screams from the fiercest dragonrider of the realm.” He tickled you without mercy. “The Cannibal would eat you up as if you were one of those little cakes you sneak from the kitchens when you think no one is watching. One bite and you would be gobbled up.” Your giggles continued to ring through the air until he put you back down on your feet.

“He is that big?” You were out of breath as you righted yourself in the sand, still smiling goofily up at your father. He looked down at you in adoration.

You were his everything.

There was a deep-rooted love he had for you that he never felt so wholly for anyone else in his life. He knew the second you entered the world -screaming and covered in blood- that he would burn kingdoms to the ground, would bring men to their knees, would do anything it took to make sure you prospered in the world he would inevitably leave behind.

“He is.” Your father leaned down, holding his hand to your tiny, rounded cheek. “Massive, fierce, and just as lethal as Balerion was -though he lacks his size. You must promise me to stay clear of him.”

“I promise, Kepa.” You said sweetly, and you meant it because if this dragon scared your Kepa -a man undeniably invincible in your eyes- then the dragon was not to be trifled with.

A knock at your door the following morning stilled Myra’s movements as she finished securing the final braid she was working on.

“Enter.” You called out and the door opened. Baela was the first to enter with Rhaena closely behind. Two servants followed them in, each carrying a tray of assorted foods.

You stood from your bench, quick to close the distance as you pulled your sisters in close to you. The servants moved past you and out to the balcony where they began to set each little plate onto the stone table.

It was Rhaena who looked up at you first. She had tears in her eyes and you knew just how much of a toll all of this had taken on her. She was marrying Luke out of duty, but she grew up with him and cared for him in her own way all the same. His loss was taken hard by many.

You placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, then moved to Baela to do the same.

“I have missed your beautiful faces dearly, my sweet girls.” They both had shining eyes as they returned your smile.

“We’ve missed you!” Baela spoke as the girls separated themselves from you. “Father has been…”

“-Terrible,” Rhaena interjected, earning a warning look from Baela.

“He has not been the same. Neither has the Queen.” Baela explained. You nodded solemnly. Not wanting the girls to dwell on such sadness any longer, you quickly changed the subject.

“I see you’ve brought a little feast with you.” You smiled once more, and they seemed to perk up. “I’m famished. Shall we?” You gestured to the balcony and followed behind them.

As you sat across from your sisters, your eyes fell to the small pyramid of stacked marzipan cakes, and you were immediately transported back to the cold, dark, stale dungeons with your itchy blanket and your three-pawed rat. You felt sweat drip down the back of your neck and your eye twitched ever so slightly. Rhaena’s voice was nothing more than babbling to your ears -completely unintelligible- until Baela called your name, snapping you out of your trance.

Your eyes snapped up and both girls were staring at you.

“My apologies.” You cleared your throat. “I am…still not quite myself. Forgive me.” Your smile did not reach your eyes, but the excuse seemed to quell Rhaena enough that she started chatting once more while adding fruits, cheeses, toasts and jams to her plate. Baela, on the other hand, kept looking at you until you gave her one more unconvincing smile. “Please,” You gestured to the food and began to take little bits here and there to busy your shaking hands. You weren’t really hungry -your appetite not returning in full quite yet- but it was the sight of the cakes that turned your stomach to lead.

Still, they had made the effort to see you at the first chance they could, and they thought ahead so much as to have the kitchens prepare all of this just for you. You would eat to please them. It was the least you could do.

“You haven’t touched the marzipan cakes.” Rhaena pointed out midway through the meal. “I know they are your favorite, and I know it is still only the morning,” She shot a glare over to Baela, “but we thought you’d like a little comfort to welcome you home.” A small comfort, Aemond had described them himself. It took every bit of willpower to not upchuck what little you had just consumed. You schooled your face, hoping your absolute dread did not cross your features. Baela watched you carefully.

“They were Rhaena’s idea.” Baela acquiesced. “I told her it was too early for cakes, but she insisted.”

Rhaena looked so hopeful that her idea pleased you. You reached your hand over the table and took hers within your palm. You saw both of their eyes glance to your wrist, but neither said anything. You were grateful.

“Your kindness knows no bounds, Rhaena. What have I done to deserve you? The both of you?” Genuine love and gratitude reflected in your eyes as you looked at the girls. “I am merely saving the cakes for my breakfast dessert. Doesn’t that sound like a treat?“ Rhaena giggled as you looked over at her with a playfully conspiratorial grin. Truthfully, you’d sooner eat a rock than touch those cakes. You didn’t know if you could keep a single bite down even if you wanted to, but that bridge would be crossed when the time came. Until then, you would not dwell on it.

“You are going easy on me, Ser Erryk. Why? Do you think I am incapable of learning this?” Your tone held a bite to it, frustration lacing your every word.

“It is not that I think you are incapable, my Princess.” The knight sighed, letting his blunted training sword drop to his side.

“Then what is it?” You demanded. “Why do you balk at the notion of me wielding a blade?”

“It’s just…you have me, my Princess.” He replied. “This is simply not necessary.” You rolled your eyes.

“You cannot be everywhere, Ser Erryk.” You argued.

“But I will be everywhere you are, my Princess. I am to join you in the North, as my Queen has commanded. Where you go, I will follow. I’ve sworn it to you and to the Queen that I shall be your protector until my very last breath. I do not take my oath lightly.” Erryk’s brows were pinched together. “Perhaps I am not- '' You cut off your knight sternly. You panted heavily as sweat dripped from the sides of your face.

“-Perhaps if you will not do it, Ser Erryk, I shall find someone who will. Though their skill will not be a match to yours, I am sure.” You sighed as you lessened the space between yourself and the knight. “You do not know what it is like to feel powerless, unable to fend for yourself.” Your head dropped in shame. “Through the entire ordeal with Aemond, from Storm’s End to the dungeons of the Red Keep, I was weak -pitifully weak- and I’ve since vowed to myself that I will never feel defenseless again.” You looked up at him once more. “A war is upon us and even if I were to never meet a battlefield, it would make no difference. I will be prepared. I will learn to wield this blade,” You shook the smallsword in your hand, “-So that I may never endure what I have at the hands of any man, ever again in my life. So again I ask: Will you take this seriously, Ser? Or need I look elsewhere?” Erryk looked at you sternly for a moment, analyzing you before he bowed his head with a heavy sigh.

“I will, my Princess. My apologies.”

Dragon fire blazed across the gray skies and storm clouds swirled overhead. The sounds of battle on the ground below could be heard from so far up in the sky. You could see, though it wasn’t from your own eyes. The world around you was made of color that your eyes would never be able to see. It was a forbidden beauty, not seen by the human eye. Craning your head to the left, you saw onyx wings. The ombré of black to a deep purple within the leathery membranes cast a spark in your mind.

The Cannibal.

There was a grip on your mind -or his, you couldn’t differentiate. It was like that of a fist and it clenched firm. The feeling was not painful, but you were all too aware of its unpleasant presence.

The beast soared lower to the battlefield below, neon flame burst from the Cannibal’s mouth, turning all in his wake to ash and char. The air around you sizzled as he accelerated up into the sky.

To feel as a dragon feels is overwhelming in every sense of the word. The raw power, the speed, the might -all of it was too much for a mere human to bear.

A young dragon, only just large enough to carry a rider, caught your eye. The beast’s scales were a beautiful cobalt, while the crest and tail were an orange rust. A burst of adrenaline flowed through the Cannibal’s body -your body- as he surged towards the much smaller dragon with a terror-inducing roar.

A young rider -looking similar in age to Jace- was on its back, and you saw despair shroud over the young man as the Cannibal approached. His Targaryen features were akin to that of the Usurper Aegon’s, and you knew then that this could only be young Daeron. You hoped the fear on Aegon’s own face would look just the same as his youngest brother’s did when he meets his own end.

When the young man saw the unstoppable mass that was coming for him, he nor his dragon stood a chance -and just as Vhagar had ripped Luke and Arrax from the sky, the Cannibal did the very same. There was no remorse to be had in the bloody wake of war.

Bloodlust was the only descriptor you could use for the feeling that swept upon the dragon as he swallowed what chunks of flesh remained in mouth. You tasted it as if your own jaws had taken young Daeron’s life, though it did not taste of salt and iron. It was satisfying, delectable. It fueled the dragon’s lust for chaos and ruin, and that is the path he continued on.

Another mighty roar was let loose from the Cannibal’s maw as he circled the battle overhead, and a deeper roar echoed in the distance in response.

The Cannibal turned in the open sky quickly to charge in the direction of the dragon who dared call back to him in challenge.

Your own eyes opened to the darkness that surrounded you before the dragon came into view. You knew who it was, deep in your bones. The monstrous bellows of Vhagar, for as long as she lived, would haunt you.

Sweat coated your skin, sticking you to your sheets uncomfortably. At some point in the night, you had shucked off your nightgown and now the chill bit at your exposed skin. The cool air hit your bare flesh as it blew in from the open balcony door. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. Looking down at your hands, they trembled fiercely.

A dragon dream.

This could not be a coincidence, not after the dream you had the previous night. Both were so vibrant, so real.

You stood from your bed, grabbing the robe that hung on the post next to it. Shrugging it on, you didn’t bother to tie it as you walked to your balcony to look towards the Dragonmont.

A black mass, visible from where you stood, flew over the village below.

“You have the advantage of a smaller blade at this close proximity to your opponent.” Ser Erryk grunted as he all but manhandled you towards the rocky alcove behind you on the beach. He had taken your plea to heart, and as happy as you were that he did, it was an embarrassingly humbling experience.

Your feet tripped through the sand as you tried to simply not lose any ground, but Ser Erryk was unrelenting.

“The size of your opponent does not matter so long as you know where to place your feet.” With that, you tripped on a rock behind your heel and he used that as an opportunity to push your back against the alcove. His sword’s length lay across your chest to show you what a stupid split second decision will end in. “And now you are dead.” He breathed, inches from your face.

You panted, becoming increasingly aware of how close Erryk was to you. He removed his sword and looked down at you with a softness in his eyes.

“Well…” You swallowed. “...at least I’ll have you.” You said, teasingly. He raised a brow at you and released you from his hold, but you caught the tilt of his lips all the same when he turned towards the shore.

“Again.” Ser Erryk urged, raising his sword once more.

The biting wind whipped through your hair as the Cannibal flew at break-neck speeds. Viewing through your own eyes this time around, you looked down to your gauntleted hands that tightly held onto the saddlehorn. You could feel as the influence of the dragon flowed through your veins and you truly felt invincible.

Movement below caught your eyes. Vhagar, in all her might, bellowed out a cannon of flame one last time as she plummeted to the waters below with a thundering crash. A tidal wave echoed to the shores, drowning any poor soul who stood too near the water’s edge. You could not believe your eyes. Circling the Cannibal around above, you watched as Vhagar sank to the depths below, steam rising from the waters above her.

The Cannibal roared in a victorious threat of dominance to any remaining dragons in the sky, friend or foe, now that his largest adversary had perished.

Arrows flew past you, bouncing off of the Cannibals impenetrable scales and narrowly missing your face by mere inches. The dragon shifted direction to fly higher in the sky to evade any rogue arrows that could potentially hit their targets.

Gaping wounds were slashed across the Cannibal’s neck and flank -marks made by teeth and claws- but they did not seem to bother him. If anything, they pushed him further to decimate everything and everyone in his path with pure fury.

You awoke with clarity. It was as if your eyes had been truly opened for the first time and a sense of purpose settled deep in your chest.

Dressing yourself with haste, you snuck through the secret passages of the Keep. Slinking in the shadows, you bypassed where you knew guards and knights alike would be stationed until you made it outside and to the stables -your face hidden by the hood of your cloak.

The ride to the village took no longer than half an hour by horseback. The moon was bright enough to see the road ahead of you, and Dragonstone was one of the safest places within the realm to wander freely. Even still, your smallsword was tied snuggly to your hip as a precaution.

Just outside of the village, down the road a ways, was a small homestead surrounded by livestock pens. Goats, cows, horses, pigs, and chickens could be heard now that you’ve seemed to have disturbed the entire yard.

A herd dog -a white, fluffy beast of a thing with a dripping muzzle- barked in alert at your arrival, keeping an eye on you to make sure you did not cause harm to his charges. You kept your distance, giving the dog a wide berth, and stopped your horse just before the gate to the walkway of the home. It was by no means big, maybe a bedroom or two, a living space, and possibly a small area to cook. It was modest, but comfortable.

Walking up to the door, you pounded three hard knocks onto it that were sure to wake the occupants inside. It took a few moments, but the door opened a crack.

“What do you want?” A man all but growled through the crack in the door.

“Your goats. I would like to purchase two of them.” You replied sternly.

“Come back at a reasonable hour, girl. I will be selling no goats of mine at this time of night.” The man sneered as he attempted to close the door in your face, but the toe of your boot held it open. You dangled a coin purse in front of the door, jangling the gold pieces inside. The pressure against your foot eased and a haggard, dirty old face filled the small space.

“You don’t know my price.” He looked at you suspiciously.

“Your price is my price. I assure you, it is more than you’d ask and more than they’re worth.” You spoke plainly. This seemed to win the man over and he opened the door fully.

“What are you doing buying goats at the hour of the owl anyway?” The man questioned as he stepped out of the house, closing the door behind him.

“My business is my own. I’m sure you understand.” You replied, looking at the animals that walked up to their fences curiously.

“Aye.” He gave you a once over, eyeing you nervously. Your face was shrouded by the hood of your cloak, but a flash of silver hair did catch his eye. The man nodded and led you to the goat pen.

“I’ll take the biggest two you have. Tie them together so they do not wander. My horse is on the road.” With that, you tossed him the pouch and turned to return to your mount.

You sat patiently upon the horse’s back. It only took the man a few minutes to wrangle the bleating goats. Their incessant chatter only got louder the closer they got to you.

“For you, miss.” The man handed her the end of the rope. You took it within your gloved hand, tying it to the saddlehorn.

“I shall return at the same time tomorrow, and every night forward for the foreseeable future. Each night I will need an animal larger than the last. I will pay you fairly, of course.” The man blinked up at you, but nodded nonetheless.

“Of course.” He mirrored.

“I do apologize for waking you at such an hour.” You kicked the horse gently to begin trotting. “I hope sleep finds you well, sir. Good night.” With that you continued down the road towards the Dragonmont.

It was another hour or so before you made it to the base of the Mont. The goats had run alongside you obediently. If anything, they seemed to love the exercise.

Fleeting happinesses, you supposed.

You pulled the horse to a stop as the path became too difficult to walk it up safely and tied the horse to a tree that was hidden among the brush so none of the dragons would find an easy meal. The walk back to the Keep on foot was not ideal.

The path to the western side of the Dragonmont was frequently taken. The gravel was clear of debris and overgrown weeds unlike the eastern path before you. It was daunting, you would not lie, and the darkness did not boost your confidence.

Steam and smoke billowed into the air high above you. The air smelled of sulfur and a scent that was distinctly dragon. You could hear the chittering of the beasts both wild and bonded as their calls echoed from within the volcano’s passages and vents.

It hurt your heart to know Maestron’s own distinct call was not among them. It would take time to undo all of the natural reflexes in your mind regarding him that were no longer natural. You had a lifetime with him, so to live with his absence was what you’d imagine it was like to lose a spouse. It was a piece of you, gone.

You held tightly onto the rope and pushed ahead, determined to continue on. It was a long, arduous hike to the back of the eastern side of the Mont. Crags had chipped and fallen onto the path over time, making it difficult terrain for you to cross over at some points, much less with the two goats who did their best to make sure this trek was as difficult as possible for you.

You wretched little beasts, you thought as you tugged at their rope. You have no idea what awaits you.

By the time you made it relatively close to your endpoint, you were sweating profusely. Your clothes stuck to you uncomfortably and your skin felt clammy in the warm air. The moon was still high in the sky, so you felt like you made pretty good time thus far.

The closer you got to the cave’s entrance, the more bones littered the ground at your feet. It was a graveyard menagerie, a collection of both animal and human skeletal remains alike.

Still, you only felt the magic within you grow stronger, pulling you to the darkness ahead. Finding an alcove of stone at the mouth of the cave for protection, you hid and listened. One of the wretched goats let out a bleat and you wanted to wring its neck with your bare hands.

The sniffing of a dragon’s nostrils could be heard. It was a long-winded sweeping sound that was loud and clear. The beast inside was scenting what dared to lurk outside of his nest. Still, he did not approach and instead waited for you to come to him. He was an ambush predator, your father had explained once, and he loved the thrill of the hunt -especially if the element of surprise was involved.

“I hold no fear in my heart for you.” You spoke out loud for the dragon to hear, still pushed into the crevice. A deep rumbling vibrated through the pitch black cave, just as it had in your dream. “You called to me, or I called to you. Either way, the call was answered.”

A deep bellow came from within the cave, echoing into the night.

“I know that you hold no love for anyone or anything, but I’ve brought you a gift. Accept it and I shall be on my way to return your peace as it was. Tomorrow, I shall be back to do the same, and one day I wish to look upon you as we did within the dream but I will remain patient.”

You allow the curious goats to wander into the cave, still tied together by their necks with two connecting loops of rope. The clicking of their tiny hooves echoed as they stepped further and further into the cave fearlessly.

Their incessant bleating was cut short by a burst of flame that shot from the entrance, charring everything in its path. The flames were vibrantly yellow, just as they were in your dream, and they took up the enormity of the cave’s mouth from top to bottom.

The heat licked at your skin even from where you hid. The tiny hairs on your forearms swayed from the force of the gusts as you brought them up to shield your eyes from the brightness. Your chest buzzed as if a colony of angry bees had nested within it, smashing against your ribs to be let free.

The visceral sounds of flesh ripping, bones crunching, and entrails sloshing met your ears.

Good, he had accepted your offering.

“You are sluggish.” Ser Erryk narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “More so than usual.” He threw in the jab teasingly, but he let you know that he took note of your lack of performance during this training session.

Your limbs were heavy and sore from your previous lessons, as well as from the trek up and down the side of the Dragonmont, and you swore you would’ve fallen over had the breeze been just slightly more of a gust than it was.

“You forget that I do not have a lifetime of strenuous activity, Ser.” You grumbled crankily as you dropped to the sand to sit for a moment. You did not get back to your chambers until the hour of the nightingale began to approach. It seemed as if you had merely blinked your eyes before Myra entered your chambers so you could prepare for your training session. “I was raised as a soft lady, much to my detriment, and soft ladies do not strain themselves.” Ser Erryk did not look impressed at your whining, but allowed you to take a break nonetheless. “I am adjusting,” You shielded your eyes from the sun with the palm of your hand to look up at him. “And gaining a newfound appreciation for what you do. You make it look effortless.” Erryk dropped to the sand next to you.

“As you’ve said, my Princess, I have a lifetime of honing my skill with a sword. It will come to you in time, but you must be patient and persistent.” Squinting as you stared just a second too long at him, you cracked a smile.

“Perhaps, if you are feeling generous, you could take me on as your squire.” Ser Erryk barked a laugh as he stood back up, dusting the sand off of his trousers before extending a hand to pull you up.

Just as you promised the farmer, you had returned nightly to collect pigs, sheep, more goats, a mule, and now -on the tenth night- a cow. This time around, you had a companion with you.

Ser Erryk had been tipped off on your nightly excursions outside of the castle walls after interrogating the poor stable boy you had paid off to have your horse saddled and ready for you, and to say it disturbed the knight greatly would be an understatement. It wasn’t until this night that he had finally caught you.

“My Princess, I must insist that you stay within the walls of the Keep.” Erryk’s unmistakable voice stopped you as you pulled the horse from its stall. Turning, you saw that he was waiting for you in the deep shadows of the stables. His eyes held exasperation as he stepped into the moonlight. “For your safety.”

“Insist all you’d like, Ser Erryk.” You inspected the strap of the saddle and loaded yourself onto the horse. Erryk stepped in front of you, making your horse stamp his hoof. “You may join me if it will ease your worries, but I will not be staying put. Stay or follow -it matters not to me, Ser. Either way, I will return before the sun rises.” You finished with a raise of your brow in challenge. He could very well alert the rest of the guards to your presence, thus awakening the whole castle. The last thing you needed was your father breathing down your neck regarding this matter. You did not keep many things from him, but this was something you could not utter a single word to him about until the matter was set in stone.

Erryk insisted on joining you if he could not talk you out of staying put, as was his knightly duty, and so he rode a horse beside you as you came upon the farmer’s homestead.

Just as he had the eight nights after your initial visit, the farmer was waiting at the gates of his yard, the protective dog sitting by his feet. His tail wagged when he saw you, now familiar with your nightly visits.

Tied to the fence was a large cow, chewing the grass that grew around the wooden post. Reaching into your cloak, you tossed the purse to the farmer, just as you had every night past. He untied the cow from the fence and tied the rope to your saddle, and off you went without a single word exchanged.

Ser Erryk watched the exchange curiously, but not as curiously as the man had watched the knight who was very obviously a member of the Queen’s Guard. Still, not a word was spoken as the pair of you made off with your livestock. You were a good ways down the road, nearly halfway to the base of the Mont, when Ser Erryk spoke.

“You spend your nights buying livestock?” His question held a cheeky tone to it, and you would give it right back to him.

“I do.” You grinned over at him.

“You risk your life out here alone for cows?”

“Risk my life? Hardly, Ser Erryk.” You scoffed. “And it isn’t just for cows. It was also sheep…and goats…and pigs,” You listed. “Oh! And a mule last night.”

“What do you do with these animals? I did not take you for a farmer.”

“That would be a very silly thing, wouldn’t it?” You humored him.

“It really would be, Princess.” The conversation died after that and it didn’t take much longer to get to the base of the Dragonmont. Both of you dismounted and hid your horses amongst the trees. Untying the cow, you led her to the eastern path you had traveled many times up to this point. Ser Erryk followed behind you hesitantly.

“It is not my place to question you, my Princess,” He cleared his throat. “but I must know what we are doing here.” Erryk’s eyes were on a constant swivel as he watched out diligently for danger.

“We are going up to the Dragonmont, Ser Erryk.” You stated simply as you continued on. It would take about an hour, as you had timed before, to hike up to the cave. With the heifer it may take longer depending on how cooperative she was going to be.

“I’ve gathered as much, my Princess.” He sighed. “The cow is what I have questions about.” Erryk had a sinking feeling in his gut, but he needed to hear you confirm his suspicions before he acted.

“It is a gift.” You replied cryptically, a grin playing at your lips. Your eyes surveyed the tumultuous ground for anything that would cause you to lose your footing.

“For whom?” Ser Erryk stumbled, quickly righting himself.

“For what, is the question you should be asking.” You answered cheekily. “This heifer is a gift for the Cannibal, if you must know.” Ser Erryk stopped dead in his tracks, his brows furrowed.

“You jest.” He spoke, all royal pretenses dropped as he looked at you. His lips were set in a deep frown.

“I’ve never jested in my life, Ser.” You teased, and did not falter in your steps up the inclined overgrown pathway. You did, however, shoot a smirk over your shoulder at the knight. Erryk jogged to catch up with you and stopped in front of you, halting your advances with his hand extended. The cow mooed without a care in the world, dropping its head to chew on a patch of wildflowers on the side of the trail. They were the last living patch of greenery this far up.

“Princess, I cannot allow you to go up there.” Erryk looked distraught, his eyes wide and full of terror. “It would be suicide.”

“Allow me? Let me make myself abundantly clear -you do not allow me to do anything, Ser Erryk.” You looked up at the knight in challenge. Taking a good look at him in the moonlight, his handsome, angular face was accentuated. He and his brother, though nearly identical, had characteristics that differentiated them. You had always naturally preferred Erryk over Arryk during any of your interactions, and seeing as how Erryk was now sworn to your family -to you- you had instinctually made the right choice.

Erryk wasn’t the type of handsome that knights like Ser Criston were -prettily handsome- but he was ruggedly handsome all the same. His eyes were bright and his face was expressive, though it was more than just his face that drew you in. He was tall, broad, strong, passionate, loyal to a fault, and absolutely lethal with a sword. Erryk Cargyll was everything a knight should be and you were more than pleased to have him at your side.

“I apologize, my Princess. I meant no offense. It is only your safety that I must keep as my highest priority.” His head was bowed, though he looked up at you when you responded.

“Duly noted, Ser Erryk.” You took a step closer to the knight. “I’m going to tell you something that only your ears will be privy to, as I know you can be trusted wholly. No one, not even my father, knows what I’ve been doing up here on the Dragonmont.”

“As apprehensive as I am about this, it is an honor to be held in such high regard, my Princess. My ears are yours.” And he meant it -you know he did. Your voice was soft and airy as you spoke. He was the only soul you would dare tell this to, as he would swear his silence if you asked it of him. Your father, for as much as he loved you, would only look at you the way he looked at his brother when he spoke of Aegon’s Dream. That look of disappointment was not something you took lightly, nor could you bear the weight of it and everything that would follow.

The cow’s rope fell from your hands, though the cow stood as if you were still holding it. You pulled the hood of your cloak off, baring your face to the knight. Your trembling hands clasped his armored ones and held tightly, startling him with your touch.

“Ten and three nights past, I had my first dream, Erryk. A dream I’ve never experienced before, but I had two more in just as many nights following. They were not the dreams of fantasy, Erryk. All three of them were as Aegon the Conqueror’s dream, of Daenys’ premonitions. My father does not believe them, naturally. He is practical, if he is anything, which is why I have not spoken to him about this, but that is beside the point.” You took another step closer, Erryk’s hands nearly touching your stomach, and you looked up at the tall knight with what some might describe as lucid madness. Your lilac eyes glowed in the moonlight, Erryk noted.

“My Uncle Viserys used to speak of these dreams. He was adamant that they were the truth. I had heard of them as a child and thought they were merely tales myself. How could something that happened in the land of sleep be real? Now I know. It was real to Aegon. It was real to Daenys. She prophesied that Valyria would fall, and the line of Targaryen would be demolished. Had Aenar not listened to her, I would not be standing before you, Erryk. The dragons you see today would no longer exist.” Your lashes fluttered as you spoke feverishly and Erryk could only listen on with apprehension continuing to grow within him. “Aegon himself truly believed the fall of man would come to be. He saw it, he felt it.”

“The fall of man has not happened, Princess.”

“Yet!” You hissed. “It hasn’t happened yet!” You felt Erryk’s fingers tighten around yours to hold you steady. “What I saw and what I felt was real, Erryk. I saw it, I smelled it, I tasted it, I touched it. All of it was real.” Your words sounded more like pleas to the knight to merely believe you.

“In the first dream, I saw the Cannibal. I was as close to him as I am to you. His fire danced around me as he looked at me and I looked at him, and we understood one another.” Your breathing was erratic, just as your words were. “There was a tendril that pulled us together, connected us in a way that only exists between a rider and a dragon. In the second dream I saw through the Cannibal’s eyes, Erryk. I felt what he felt, I tasted what he tasted. I breathed fire and scorched the earth. Through his eyes, I felt what it was to fly over mountains and oceans -over battlefields and castles. And in the final dream, I saw Vhagar.” Erryk’s brows furrowed as you smiled deliriously. “I saw her! Riding upon the Cannibal’s back I saw her fall to her doom, Erryk.” Manic tears burst forth from your eyes.

“I was there! I do not know where it was, but she perished.” Your chest heaved. “These dreams cannot be mere coincidence.” Erryk took in your words, his mind spinning frantically as he tried to process his response. You spoke so earnestly, but it was hard for him to believe what you were saying as reality. It may have been your truth, but your current mental state may also be aligned with fiction.

“May I speak freely, my Princess?” He spoke gently, his thumbs rubbing over the tops of your hands to calm you down.

“Of course.” You breathed, your eyes shining with hope that he’d understand what you were saying.

“...Perhaps…perhaps this is your way of dealing with your grief. So much has happened and you have not had the proper time to process it.” Your stomach dropped and it felt as if you were freefalling from a cliff. Perhaps this is what it would’ve felt like had Aemond let you run off the edge of Massey’s Hook.

Erryk’s brows were downturned and his eyes shined with pity when you visibly deflated. You pulled your hands from his and crossed your arms over your chest to bring your defenses up.

“I’ve dealt with my grief! I’m still dealing with my grief!” You spat. “They were dragon dreams, Erryk!” You nearly shouted. “I know they were! I have been climbing this trail up and down the Mont, for hours of each way every single night since I had the third dream. I’ve visited the Cannibal every night -this night being the tenth, and I live to tell the tale, Erryk! When has he let anyone step foot near his nest and live? When?” You pushed angrily.

“I…Ido not know what to say, my Princess.” In truth, Ser Erryk had a lot he’d like to say, but he’d also like to keep his head attached to his shoulders. He would also like to not become the next offering to the Cannibal if what you spoke of was genuine truth. He could not make heads nor tails of the situation. You took a step back from Erryk and sighed, picking up the fallen rope within your hands.

“You insisted on accompanying me, Ser Erryk, but I will not fault you for staying behind while I continue forward. The Cannibal is unpredictable and I cannot promise your safety should you follow.” You said seriously, sniffling as you ran a shaking hand over your face. Erryk looked between you, the cow, and the steaming volcanic vents of the Dragonmont behind you.

“This dragon calls to me, Erryk.” You whispered. “You may not believe me, nor do you understand it, but I feel it in the furthest depths of my being. It is not the same as my bond with Maestron was, but the magic is there and it will only grow stronger with time should he accept me. The fact that the Cannibal has not ended my existence is encouragement enough. Now,” You gave the cow a pat to its flank as you fixed Erryk with your stare. “You can help me get this beast to the eastern side of the Mont, or you can return to the Keep and carry on with your other duties -whatever they should be at the hour of the wolf.”

“My only duties are with you, Princess.” Ser Erryk said without hesitation. “Day or night, I shall not leave your side.” His eyes held a softness as they looked down at you, but still, he kept his mouth shut.

“Very well.” You nodded and handed the rope to the knight. Erryk dutifully followed behind you with the cow in tow.

The familiar boneyard came into view and you stopped Erryk from going forward.

“It is not much further from here. I must stress to you that whatever you see -whatever you hear- you must remain calm. He will know you are with me. He will catch your scent if he hasn’t already. Stay out of sight and say a quick prayer to the Seven that you make it to see the sunrise, Ser Erryk. Your bravery tonight will not be forgotten.” You smiled softly at him, your palm coming up to rest on his cheek.

Erryk knew what was at stake. He knew the possibility of neither of you coming out of this alive was high. Still, he followed you to the end as he had sworn he would. An armored finger rested under your chin and tilted your face up just the slightest bit.

“I shall not leave you, Princess.” He spoke gently. It was a promise that would be kept. He may not have believed you, but still, he’d follow you to your end. You nodded, tears lining your eyes. They sparkled like diamonds in the moonlight, entrancing the knight.

Erryk could not deny the pull that drew him to you, but even in what he projected was his last hour in this life, he would not allow himself to act rashly for you were his Princess and he had a duty to uphold. If a man could not keep his oath, even with the Stranger looming ever closer, then what was he worth?

Reputation meant everything, in life and in death.

“Come.” You whispered, taking the rope from Erryk and leading the cow behind you. A comfortable silence blanketed the pair of you as you walked. Erryk decided, in that moment, that he would allow himself one final comfort in this life. It was bold, but uncompromising.

He pulled the glove and gauntlet off of his left hand, freeing his fingers from the leather and metal. He grasped your hand tenderly within his own calloused palm, affectionately tangling your more delicate fingers with his.

You turned to look at Erryk and his profile looked as if it was carved from stone in the glow of the moonlight. The breeze lifted his long hair that rested on his back, swirling it around his shoulders. You squeezed his much larger hand and smiled with a shy dip of your head. Returning the smile, Erryk decided that this would be enough. There were worse ways to leave this life.

Silently you carried on, hand in hand with your knight as you approached the final bend. Erryk could feel the stone tremble beneath his feet and his heart nearly stopped dead in his chest. You gave his hand one last squeeze before releasing it. You ushered him into the alcove that you hid in the first time you came to approach the Cannibal.

“You will stay here and do not come out unless you are certain I am dead.” Erryk’s jaw dropped in shock. “Do not look at me like that. Please, promise me you will stay put.” Erryk’s jaw clenched, anger and frustration building up inside of him. How could you ask him to do nothing while you faced the most ferocious beast on this island?

Once more you brought your hand to his bearded cheek. “I believe what I saw, Erryk. I know you don’t, but I truly do. I need you to trust me as I trust you -wholly and without question.” Erryk’s brows furrowed and he held your stare for a few moments before he relented against his better judgment.

“Okay.” He whispered. “Okay.” You nodded, caressing his jaw for a moment more before leaving him in the alcove. He could see you perfectly through a crack in the stone as you approached the mouth of the cave with the cow in tow. It was the same crack in the slab of stone that you watched through the first night you visited the Cannibal.

Surely this is what it felt like to wait for the swing of the executioner’s sword, Erryk thought to himself. To know you are going to die a gruesome death, but first you had to wait for your turn at the chopping block.

“Another offering, as I’ve promised.” You called into the darkness, patting the rump of the cow to encourage her to walk forward. The clip-clop of her hooves echoed slowly as she disappeared from view. The deep rumble of the Cannibal’s purr reverberated through Erryk’s own chest as he watched on with baited breath. You moved out of the mouth of the cave and to the side, only separated from Erryk by the slab of stone he peeked through.

A blinding flash of yellow flame shot through the mouth of the cave. Erryk had to cover his eyes, but you had welcomed the brightness from where you stood with an unhinged smile gracing your face. The flames lasted for five long seconds. You counted it time and time again with each offering you brought, learning more of the dragon with each passing night. That was his preferred roasting time, you figured.

Darkness encased the cave once more. The tell-tale sounds of bones crunching and flesh tearing met your ears.

There was a theory you had worked out in your brain that you purposefully failed to share with Erryk. Had you clued him in on what you were here to truly do, he wouldn’t think twice about letting the cow loose and throwing you over his shoulder to return back to the Keep kicking and screaming.

He wouldn’t understand -not really. He couldn’t. The blood of the dragon did not run through his veins as it did yours.

You didn’t realize it until you were in the safety of the Keep at Dragonstone, but Aemond had fractured something within you. It dwelled in the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind and soul, and what you were about to do would either soder it back together or wipe it from existence entirely. Whatever the outcome, you would be set free.

Erryk hissed your name directly as you began to disrobe where you stood. Your cloak fell to the ground in a heap. Next you kicked your boots to the left of it.

“What in the Seven are you doing?” Came Erryk’s panicked whisper. Your shirt, breeches, and smallclothes were tossed onto your cloak, and you moved your boots to hold the pile down. “Princess, please!” His gaze turned from you instantly as you stood bare as the day you were born before him. “This is madness.”

“No, Erryk. This is fate.” Your voice was calm as you turned away from him. The air, though warm this close to the volcano, still caused your nipples to peak and goosebumps to form on your naked skin. You freed your hair from the bands that held your braids together, tossing the strips of leather into your boot.

“In the...off chance…that I do not return…tell my father what has transpired in full truth, and that I am sorry I did not keep my promise.” Erryk grabbed your wrist through the crevice, intent on not letting you go. He adamantly kept his eyes on yours, not daring to let them wander further down. You were not his to gaze freely upon, he chastised himself. And you never would be. He breathed your name once more, causing you to turn back to the knight. There was a deep sadness that swirled in his eyes as he gazed upon your moonlit face.

“Do not do this. I am begging you. If I have to carry you down the Dragonmont myself and tie you to my horse, I’ll do it.” You smiled at Erryk. “Your family has already lost you once. The Realm needs you, Princess. Please think!” Erryk’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes glistened. Stress poured from every feature and there was a slight tremor in the grip he had on you. You rested a hand upon his, gently prying his fingers away.

“This is my destiny, Erryk. This dragon will rid the Realm of all the vile creatures that dwell within it.” Your mind flashed to Aemond and Vhagar, to Aegon and Sunfyre, Daeron and Tessarion, to Alicent and her wretched father.

All would fall to the might of the Cannibal.

You felt it in your bones as you pulled your wrist free from Erryk’s grasp and stepped to the opening of the cave before he could stop you. The deep rumble of the Cannibal’s growl echoed in the cave, and his giant steps shook the Mont from within. Erryk was nearly hyperventilating as he watched. He did not dare blink an eye.

“You feel this.” You spoke freely into the void with a steady voice. It did not shake and there was no fear present. “We are connected. You would not spare me if I didn’t speak the truth.” The Cannibal’s growls only grew deeper, bordering a purr from the massive creature. “Prove to me that this is real, that we are one.” You held your arms wide as you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, face tilted to the sky above. “I welcome you.”

Erryk saw the flames before he could think. Hot, yellow fire shot from the cave as it had with the cow, and now you were fully engulfed. Erryk felt tears fall down the planes of his cheeks, his lips trembling terribly as he watched on as you were consumed by the dragonfire.

Gone. You were gone.

Failure emanated through his core, turning his stomach something fierce and he could do nothing but watch you perish. Erryk’s burning eyes clenched shut.

He failed you. He failed his Queen. He failed the Realm.

The continuous dragonfire made his eyes crack open. The flames lasted much longer than they had before and his jaw dropped in wonder.

The heat of the flames was nearly unbearable, but they did not burn your flesh. They felt like the warmest rays of the sun on the hottest summer day as the fire danced and licked your skin. The golden flames sparked and sizzled around you as you held your breath. Your feet left the stone floor for a mere blip of a moment in time and you felt it. Mere inches off the ground, the flames engulfed you fully.

It was a lifetime within the fire, just as it had been within your dream, and in an instant you were shifted back to darkness. Your feet hit the ground with a slap, your knees wobbled at the force. Looking up, the sharp chartreuse eye of the Cannibal beckoned you forward and your legs moved on their own accord.

Erryk could not breathe as he watched you enter the Cannibal’s nest. You, who had roasted alive within the dragon’s flames mere seconds ago, before his very eyes, was now walking on your own two feet as if he didn’t see what he definitely just saw. He blinked hard, rubbing his eyes.

There wasn’t a single blemish on your skin, not a single burn marred your flesh. You should’ve been dead instantly, reduced to a pile of ash left to blow in the wind.

At that moment, Erryk did not know what to do -what to think. Was he dead? It was the only semi-rational thought he could come up with. He leaned to the ledge of the cliff and vomited the little contents of his stomach he had left.

The growl of the Cannibal should’ve been terrifying, but you knew in that very moment that he would not kill you. He was just as stunned as you were in the revelation that you uncovered. This dragon was old and no creature had ever lived through his flames.

Not once.

Not until now.

With each step closer, you felt the strength he emanated. Unadulterated raw power flowed through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes as you stood in the darkness. Bones and the dust of bones that had been stepped on for over a century littered the ground ahead of you. The stench of death and the heady, earthy scent of the dragon hung heavy in the air.

The light of the moon stopped just ahead of you, but you saw the dragon shift in the darkness, his green eyes glowed from high above. Yellow embers shimmered from his belly, casting a faint glow to the nest from under his black scales, but they only illuminated bright enough to light the stone below him.

The ground shook beneath your feet as he took long, lumbering steps towards your minuscule frame. You could still feel his flames around you, inside of you, though they weren’t physically there. The Cannibal’s head lowered menacingly and he tilted it to the side to look you over fully with one massive, angry eye.

“Magnificent.” You whispered. The dragon growled and hummed “Issaros.” Stranger. The name fit him as the dragon himself was synonymous with death.

Issaros bared his teeth to you, saliva dripping from his maw. The gusts of air from his exhales were like mighty winds from the sea with how close he was.

“You have been free your whole existence. I do not wish to cage you, to tame you, to bind you to my will. I have great use for you, and you seek death…destruction…flesh.” You could see the interest pique in his eye as he continued to watch you with the threat of his teeth ever present.

“I will make you an offer: Follow me North and allow me the privilege of riding upon you into battle. In return, I give you the freedom to feast freely upon man and beast alike, but only those I have deemed my enemies. There are plenty, I assure you. You shall never want for blood and flesh again, my friend. After the war is won, you shall return here to the Dragonmont, or any other place you deem worthy to dwell in. You will always have your freedom and regardless of the bond we now share, I will not hold you hostage to me. With this, you have my word.” You stepped closer, bringing a palm up to rest along a spike on his snout. His lips twitched back in warning, but he did not move from you nor did he snap his teeth. Your eyes met his once more.

“Will you accept this?”

Erryk sat outside of the cave in near total silence. It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours. He did not know. It wasn’t until the ground beneath him trembled immensely and a black mass exited the cave did he stand.

Erryk’s hair flew back behind him as the massive dragon flapped his leathery wings and took off into the night sky. He felt the blood drain from his face when he saw a flash of your silver hair upon the Cannibal’s back as he ascended to the stars.

You spoke truth, Erryk thought as he watched on with mental clarity. The proof was right in front of him and he did not dare blink should this be a figment of his imagination.

Your head was tilted back and your arms were stretched out to either side of you. The cold wind felt refreshing on your naked flesh as the dragon tore through the sky.

The deafening roar Issaros let out was bone-chilling and you had never before felt as powerful as you did in that very moment. With this ferocious killing machine beneath you, you would bring death and ruin to Aemond and all he held dear.

If there was ever a formidable dragon that could battle against the likes of Vhagar, as you had prophesised, it was the dreaded Cannibal.

What the dragon lacked in size by comparison, he had quadrupled in viciousness, ruthlessness, and cunning. He was a predator through and through, and had no qualms about killing for the sport of it.

And he deemed you worthy to sit upon him.

To sit upon a dragon so large was unlike anything you had ever felt. The only other times were when your father had taken you upon Caraxes as a girl, but that had been many years past. This, as an experienced dragon rider, made you feel invincible.

Issaros screeched at any other dragon who dared to come remotely near him in warning as he glided through the night sky. Most, if not all, knew of his temperament.

“They are needed.” You called to the dragon. “When this war is over, you may do with them as you wish, but for now they must live.” You felt his irritation, but he heeded your words all the same.

“If my Maestron were to ever fall, I would surely ride the Cannibal.” It was a prophecy spoken at such a tender age and you didn’t even know it. The words were a fantasy, said in the heat of the moment as a child, but those words had come to pass. Just as Daenys’ prophetic words had come to pass. Just as Aegon’s dream was sure to come to fruition.

The flames of magic flowed through your blood as the Cannibal flew through the skies in a miraculous display. It felt as though your ribs were expanding, like you could take infinite air within your lungs. To feel such an intense connection with such a wild dragon not only mended what Aemond had fractured, but it evolved something else deep within you.

You wanted blood.

You wanted retribution.

You wanted vengeance.

Erryk’s eyes were wide as he stared openly at you when you exited the cave. Soot painted over your body from the dragon fire and your hair was a mess of tangles from the wind. Streaks of blood littered your nude body from small cuts made by the dragon’s tough scales.

Erryk quickly removed his cloak when he saw your legs begin to buckle in your delirious steps towards him. When you were clear of the cave’s mouth, he ran to you and swept you into his arms, his warm cloak wrapped around you to preserve your modesty.

“I need a moment.” You mumbled against his chest. Your hand grasped onto the shoulder strap of his plated armor as he set you in the alcove he had been hidden behind. Erryk made sure his cloak was tightly wrapped around you when you shivered.

The knight crept over to your discarded belongings to hastily retrieve them. He tried not to jump when he heard the Cannibal’s purr rumble in the darkness, but his heart pounded furiously in his chest as he backed away slowly until he was shielded once more in the alcove.

Erryk stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you. Sprawled on your back, one arm stretched over your head and the other draped over your stomach. His cloak was pulled up to reveal your legs and covered only your more intimate areas. The ethereal glow of your skin in the moonlight was more than he, a man so strong in his convictions, could handle.

The scene before him could’ve been a painting, and it would be imprinted on his mind for the rest of his life. You had bewitched him, he thought as his stomach flipped and his heart sang. What he witnessed on this night was more than enough to convince him that you would change the Realm. For better or worse, he could not tell, but he would remain at your side.

Erryk allowed you a moment’s rest, but the moon was slowly dropping in the sky and the hour of the nightingale would soon be upon you. The lighter it got, the harder it would be to sneak your way back to the stables.

Erryk turned his back to you so you could sluggishly dress, then he took you in his arms once more to carry you down the Dragonmont.

Your fluttering eyes met his when he glanced down at you. Your palm came up to rest on his bearded cheek in a sweet caress.

“Rest, my Princess. I shall wake you when we’ve reached the horses.”

Days had passed since you took Ser Erryk to the Dragonmont, and he had returned with you every night since. Your trainings had also continued, and just as he promised, you were slowly gaining an understanding of the craft. You were by no means a warrior, but your footwork was improving and you had begun to think on the offense rather than wait to be cornered into defense.

Since that first night on the Mont, Erryk let his touch linger as he instructed you. He got closer, though it never progressed to anything more. You knew he’d never cross that line, much less put you in such a predicament. Erryk worked his entire life to be at his current station and you would not squander that for him.

Still, the temptation lit a fire within you with every touch and glance he gave you. The feelings, though they were forbidden, existed all the same.

At this point in the night Erryk would be waiting for you at the stables, but tonight he was not there by the time you arrived. He’d usually have your horse ready for you, but you didn’t mind saddling it yourself. You were adjusting the straps to the saddle on his borrowed horse when he trotted past you.

“Ser Erryk!” You called when he didn’t even spare you a glance. He pulled the horse to a stop and turned in your direction. “Where have you been off to?” You questioned in confusion. As far as you knew, he was in his quarters resting before your excursion.

Erryk looked at you with wide eyes as if he was looking at a ghost. He kept the horse stock still for a moment before dismounting and taking cautious steps closer to you.

“I had a task set by the Queen, Princess.” You noted that his movements seemed off. His gait held a different stride, and his voice was slightly higher. Brows furrowed, you tilted your head as you continued to analyze him. “I must report back to her at once, Princess.” His tone was impatient and he spoke to you as if you were a stranger. Something must’ve happened for Erryk to be this short with you.

“In that case, if you do not feel up to the ride, you may stay here. Tonight will be no different than the others.” You offered, knowing he would turn you down. You would give him some time to debrief with your mother and then he would insist on joining you.

That is…not what happened, much to your surprise.

“I’m afraid I will not make the ride tonight, Princess.” Odd. “My sincerest apologies.” You gave him a long look, not understanding why he was being so secretive. Relief flashed in his eyes when you nodded and mounted your horse. You tried to not let the flash of hurt you felt cross your features, but you definitely threw him a nasty look.

“Very well. I shall see you on the morrow.” You tapped the flank of your horse with your heel and turned in the direction of the gates.

Something rolling in your gut told you to turn back. Erryk’s abnormal behavior did not sit right with you, and you knew back in the stables that you should’ve stayed to push him for further details. Irritated with yourself, you turned your horse around and headed back to the Keep. Issaros would be cross with you, you were sure, but you would address him on your next visit.

As you got back to the main road, a raven cawed as it flew overhead. Stopping your horse, your head turned to follow the direction it flew in. It was far too late in the night for a raven to fly out of Dragonstone, much less in the direction of-

Your brain went blank for a moment and realization dawned on you. You kicked your horse sharply and he sprinted into a full gallop to race back to the Keep.

“It wasn’t Erryk, you fool!” You berated yourself, urging your horse to sprint faster. “It wasn’t Erryk!”

If you weren't simping for Ser Erryk before, you are now. I'm starting a support group.

We're setting things up for absolute mayhem.

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the5n00k · 1 year

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Character analysis essay: (kind of, it's mostly me just rambling)

The Ghost and Molly McGee and the concept of unconditional love and acceptance

‼️Spoilers ahead for both seasons 1 and 2!‼️

The Ghost and Molly McGee is one of the most special animated tv shows I've ever seen for several reasons but none quite as special to me as this. A ton of shows, especially on Disney channel, boast of their friendships between the main characters and their hijinks they get into but none have quite impacted me like the friendship between the two titular characters Molly and Scratch. I mean when I first watched this series in July after the season 1 finale, I expected to have a brief period of obsession, a few drawings, and then I'd move on. As you can tell by my blog, that did not happen. (For better and for worse)

People dismiss this show because of the more grounded slice of life episodic approach it takes but honestly I feel like that's it's strongest aspect. It allows the characters to have more moments where they can just slow down and connect. There's no urgent threat (save for a few episodes) that needs to be addressed or the world will end. The characters get to talk, react, and grow because of its slower pace. I say slower loosely because this show will also throw jokes at you harder and faster than an automatic tennis ball server but it knows when to take a moment seriously when it needs to. (This is also why season 1 Amphibia is my favorite and y'all can fight me for it.)

Now onto my main point; Molly and Scratch's relationship.

They start out rough. REALLY rough. They're not good for each other in the slightest. Scratch is mean and constantly trying to sabotage Molly and Molly is controlling, dragging Scratch along on her daily tasks even if he expresses how much he does not want to come along. But no matter how terrible they treat each other, there's still a level of care.

Take First Day Frights or The Unnatural for example. Scratch is more than willing to watch Molly fail until he sees her getting picked on, something he's experienced almost every day of his afterlife, possibly his living one too. He has this connection to her early on, he has this empathy. He'd never expressly admit it and he still tries his hardest to make her give up MANY times throughout season 1 either for his own amusement, thinking the effort isn't worth both of their time, or simply because he has to keep Brighton miserable. But seeing her upset always sets something off in him. And while he doesn't verbally admit he cares about her until the season finale, he does eventually acknowledge her as his best friend (although in that instance it was more to spite Libby) and acknowledge himself as part of her family. The most notable episodes that highlight their more stable relationship are season 1, 18-20 (for those unaware, that would be Out of House and Home/Home is Where the Haunt is, Scaring is Caring/All Night Plight, and The Jig is Up/Molly Vs the Ghost World)

Moving onto season 1 Molly now, she was controlling and seemed to enjoy annoying Scratch in almost a sibling-like behavior, poking him, teasing him, playing with his "hair" but the further you get into the series, the less annoying these feel and the more endearing they become. She also begins to respect his boundaries more, summoning him less and kind of letting him do his own thing in the general area while she has her own plot going on. (Goat Your Own Way and gags ... The Internship) And even after the curse is broken, she seems willing to let him move on away from her if that's what he really wants. She's more interested in his happiness now than her own. Letting go of that control is HUGE for her considering how much emphasis she put on him being her first forever friend. She didn't even expose him to Libby until she got his permission. I brought it up once and I'm bringing it up again dammit.

These two broken, mistreated, flawed people who found each other by complete coincidence would do anything and go to the ends of the earth for each other. And they did.

Moving onto season 2 I was terrified they would regress in some way from this. It was such a high note and a perfect end to their arc all throughout season 1, but now there was this new status quo. They were used to each other now. They could feel like completely different characters at this point. But they weren't, in fact they're even better.

They fight, they argue, they disagree on A LOT of things, but at the end of the day they're even more supportive and loving of each other than ever before.

They're not tearing each other down anymore, they're actively building each other up. Making the other a better person. Cheering them on. This even extends to the B characters like Libby and Darryl, they feel like a close-knit family. Even when they argue, the first thing they see when they say each other again is "I'm sorry" which is HUGE for Scratch, acknowledging fault was (and still is to some degree) really hard for him. They love each other no matter what. They've still got their issues, Molly still feels like she needs to burn herself out to make others happy and Scratch is still calloused and mean towards new additions to his social circle but that just makes them feel more authentic. I don't want them to be perfect. Watching them improve yet still struggle with the same issues they had at the start of the series makes them feel so real. For being a show that's mostly episodic with loose continuity, the development its characters go through is so slow burn sometimes you don't even notice it just binging the series. But if you jump back and forth between an early season 1 episode to a late/season 2 episode, it is STAGGERING.

Molly doesn't love Scratch because he stopped being mean. Scratch doesn't love Molly because she stopped being an overbearing ball of energy. They've loved each other in spite of that. They see past these flaws to their source and relate to the feelings they stem from. At their core, Molly and Scratch are exactly the same; social outcasts seemingly doomed to never having lasting connections. They just responded differently to what they had to go through, their two extremes are even similar in some ways with over possessiveness and insecurity. When Scratch was defending himself to Libby, he couldn't even name any of his redeeming qualities. And Molly still thought Scratch wanted to leave her in spite of everything. They're so torn from their experiences and that drives them closer together. I'm tearing up writing this.

They're broken but they're healing. They're best friends forever. One without the other would not be the same person. Although they aren't codependent, they've gotten along fine on solo adventures without the other needing to step in and solve their problem. They're healthy in their toxic behaviors because they call each other out. I don't consider a relationship toxic if there's noticeable improvement and growth. They're mature in their immaturity, their friendship is so simple and sincere. They enjoy each other's company and don't care who knows it. They're weirdos and so is everyone else they're friends with. Save for maybe Geoff. I don't think a single soul hates Geoff. I'm getting off topic but their friendship is something I always wanted.

They know they're broken, they know they're flawed and selfish at times. But they're trying. And that effort is sometimes all that one can ask for. The dream team for all eternity.

#the ghost and molly mcgee #tgamm #tgamm spoilers #character analysis #i cried writing this #legitimately i almost started violently sobbing over these cartoon characters #that's what thinking about their relationship does to me #they're such besties #i hope they never change but also change for the better #if that makes any sense #my poor broken meow meows #i want to hug them so hard all their trauma goes away

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gonzo-rella · 1 year

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Imagine: Joel Miller Saving You From An Infected

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): Joel Miller x gn!reader (unspecified), Ellie Williams x gn!reader (unspecified; implied platonic)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: Initially, I wasn’t going to watch TLOU because I’m not really into video games aside from Pokémon and Animal Crossing, and for some reason I thought that my lack of investment in the game meant I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the show. However, when I saw the praise for episode 3- which I still think about almost daily- I decided to watch it. I was hooked from the first episode (the ending of the episode with the radio playing ‘Never Let Me Down’ gave me goosebumps), and I now adore these characters. Ellie has become like my fictional little sister who I want to protect at all costs, even though I’m guessing that she’d be the one protecting me, and Joel’s my... it’s complicated; all I know is that I love him. This realisation prompted me to write this. Sorry if they seem somewhat/very OOC; I’m just getting used to these characters and writing for them. Feel free to send me requests for the show, as long as you don’t send in any game spoilers (find my requesting rules linked here).)

It should have been a simple task, setting up camp in a seemingly uninhabited stretch of woodland. That’s why Joel had- albeit with mild reluctance- trusted you to survive for five or so minutes by yourself whilst he and Ellie went to gather firewood.

Kneeling on the ground, you inflated a sleeping mat with a series of increasingly wheezy breaths. The sound almost drowned out that of the slow, crunching footsteps approaching you, which you- too lightheaded to think straight- attributed to Ellie and/or Joel. You didn’t think to look up until you suddenly realised that you didn’t hear Ellie’s chatter or Joel’s hoarse muttering, but a strained cry. That’s when you found yourself staring at an infected. It stared back.

“Fuck.”

It lurched forward, jerkily rushing towards you. You sprang to your feet and darted away from it as fast as you could, all the while mentally cursing yourself for leaving your gun in your pack.

“Oh shit oh fuck,” you panted. “Joel! Ellie!”

The pair of them came into view, seemingly making their way back to camp. Dropping the firewood, Joel called your name before reaching for his gun and taking several steps forward as he took aim. You quickly moved out of the line of fire, falling to your knees as booming gunfire prompted you to cover your ears.

Through your hands, you heard a final thud.

This time, Ellie called your name and let her pile of wood come clattering to the ground. She raced over to you and knelt beside you. Joel trailed after her, though he stood a good few feet away from you.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?” she questioned, looking you over. “You didn’t get bit, did you?”

“I’m fine,” you confirmed between gasps. As you glanced up at her, you noticed a crease had formed between her brows. “Well... my knees are a little scraped.”

The expression of worry faded from her face and she smiled faintly. Joel rolled his eyes. You heard him take several steps away from you.

“Ellie,” he said gruffly. “Help me pick up all this wood.”

Ellie pushed herself up with a sigh.

“Sir, yes, sir.” she muttered.

Following suit, you dusted yourself off.

“Let me help.”

Once all of the wood was picked up, you began the short walk to camp.

“Sorry about that, you guys,” you groaned. “I should’ve had my gun on me.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Ellie shrugged. “None of us thought there’d be anything out here in the middle of who-fucking-knows-where, right, Joel?”

Joel didn’t respond.

“Joel?” Ellie repeated.

A huff fell from his nostrils.

“I leave you alone for five fuckin’ minutes...”

“I know. I’m really sorry.”

Joel cleared his throat.

“It ain’t your fault,” he replied, his tone softer than usual. “I should’a known better than to take that chance.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you insisted. “I made it out in one piece, right?”

“Guess so.” he muttered.

You huffed.

“Look, Joel, I know you really care about me and all, but you shouldn’t beat yourself up.”

“Don’t push it.”

You and Ellie exchanged a glance and giggled to yourselves.

“Jesus Christ...” Joel grumbled.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #tlou x reader #tlou #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #x reader #x gender neutral!reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn!reader #x gn reader

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distressed-devilsitter · 1 year

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Thoughts on Nightbringer (minor spoilers)

Description: What it says on the tin.

TW: None. Minors DNI.

Thoughts on game mechanics:

- Ruri Tunes is so much fun! And I'm loving the remixes of all the characters' songs.

- The difficulty spikes after lesson 4. I went from getting S-ranks to D's in the span of a single lesson. :(

- The hardest part of the game is leveling up cards/drawing the right cards in nightmare. Nightbringer makes me wish I had my old cards from the base game.

- The backgrounds, enemies, etc. are nods to the anime/past events (like Beel's carrot curry and the masked bats). Which is super cute!

-Extreme mode is INSANE.

- It's far easier to get devil points. In daily rewards, you can earn up to twenty points per day.

Lore!

- The game takes place a year after the celestial war ends. The brothers have been under house arrest staying with Diavolo while the HoL was reconstructed.

- The brothers are constantly surprised by Beel's appetite. Which tells me that their sins have been slowly infecting them over the past year.

- Solomon fought off the entire devildom at once??? AND WON???

- Finally, we have more of Luke's backstory! Apparently he was born sometime after the celestial war ended and Nightbringer begins. He could be anywhere from a year to literally like a month old lol.

- Barbatos hates Solomon for some reason. Their conversations are comedy gold. Solomon "can't" remember why his friend hates him because his memories from this time are "foggy." (I call bs)

- Guess who makes the first pact in the game? It's not you - it's Solomon. He forges a pact with Asmo when you're stuck in the maze under Diavolo's castle...which effectively rewrites how the two originally made a pact! Two lessons later, he warns you not to mess with the timeline. Pick a lane.

- Nightbringer (let's be honest, it's Barbatos) is the name of the person who brought us to the devildom. Imo, the name is stupid and Barbatos should never be allowed to name anything, ever.

- We met biblical Adam and he was in hell. For some reason.

Misc. Notes:

- The brothers are kinder to the MC than season one of the base game. I can't tell if it's because they're still acting like angels or because the MC is masquerading as their demonic attendant.

- Seriously I'm at lesson 9 and no one has threatened to kill me yet.

- Ah, cold and distant Lucifer my beloved. How I've missed you. 😌

- Mammon is a simp in all universes and across all timelines for the MC. I love that for them.

- Leviathan has always been like that™️

- Asmo misses the celestial realm so much he modeled his room after it.

- Belphegor doesn't seem to hate humans as much? I keep expecting him to lesson 16 me at any second.

- MC lied to Diavolo's face, forgetting that one of his cannon powers is that he can detect lies. Guys why are we so stupid. 😔

And that's it! I may come back to update this list once I've finished lesson 10

#mammon and levi's part is done!#i did this instead of writing Satan's part lol #rambles #obey me!#obey me nightbringer spoilers #obey me nightbringer #obey me luke #obey me mammon #obey me luicfer #obey me levi #obey me asmodeus

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sytortuga · 8 months

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Deafening silence

General summary: Pre-canon. Din goes to the Wild Space on a mission to capture a Kaleesh bounty. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he didn't expect the mission to have permanent consequences on his life.

Warnings: poisoning, general violence, animal attack, animal injury, depictions of sickness, hallucinations, permanent nerve damage, permanent consequences on way of life. Some warnings are omitted to avoid spoilers. Proceed with care if any of the above are triggering subjects.

Author's notes: I'm so excited to contribute to this @ailesswhumptober!!! This work wouldn't have never happened without the talented @itzagoodthing, who's been the brainstorming partner in crime: contributed with many ideas, did tons of editing and proof reading. It has been sooooo much fun!!! I'm very grateful 🤩

This will be a 3 chapter fic. Upcoming chapters will come soon! Posted here, but you can also read it in AO3 if you prefer.

Happy whumptober 2023 everybody!

Chapter 1/3: The Bounty

Din woke up with a start. For a second he couldn’t figure out where he was. It was surely not the Crest. He closed his eyes, listening to the noises around him: the Covert, its members surely starting along with their day. The sound of heavy steps up and down the hallway leading to his quarters. That was certainly what had woken him up. He felt tired, but forced his eyes open. With the strong Imperial presence in the sector, the decision of going out one at a time needed to be taken, he knew it, and accepted it. The knowledge of their numbers needed to be concealed, hidden from the enemy to protect their covert’s whereabouts. But under such circumstances, the task of being beroya, the tribe’s provider, was starting to weigh and to take a toll on him.

Physically he felt exhausted. Their numbers were slowly growing, often taking in foundlings, or, more rarely, taking in the remaining members of other tribes that had been destroyed by Imperials in the effort of completing the Mandalorian Purge. They counted on him to gain enough credits to supply for the needs of the Tribe. But the toll was more than physical. Being almost continuously away from the Covert, his nearly complete absence to the daily activities and interactions with the other members of his Tribe, spending almost all his time alone in the Crest, started to take a toll also on his soul. He knew all this, but had promised himself not to dwell on it. Being the Hunter was his mission. He would stand up to his station.

Finding the strength to get himself up from his cot, Din put on his armor and pulled aside the curtain separating his quarters from what was now a busy Covert. He navigated the network of corridors. Sewers. He hated that they had been pushed to hide in the sewers. Everyone hated it but they all implicitly trusted that better times would come.

Moving towards the exit, Din crossed several other Mandalorians, who just watched him pass. None greeted him, so he simply acknowledged their presence and continued his stoic walk through the corridors. He was clearly spending too much time away. A deep sensation of being a foreigner in his own Covert made him quicken his pace. He exited behind Nevarro’s market stands, which were just starting to exhibit their goods, and made it to his ship.

Settling himself in the cockpit, he set up the coordinates to Nirauan. He didn’t need to check the three bounty pucks he had picked up from Karga the night before upon delivery of the previous assets. He didn’t think twice about getting the three highest bounties on the table. Unsurprisingly, they were all in the Wild Space Territories. And the high price was not for no reason: those were dangerous and distant worlds on which not much information was available. And on top of that, the fuel was very expensive these days. But desperate times made him take high stake bounties, so Nirauan, and the Kaleesh mercenary who he was after, was set to be his first mission.

As it had become a habit, Din spent his time in hyperspace preparing his gear and tuning his armor. Upon arrival to the Grandilis sector he quickly set course to the second of the worlds composing the Nirauan system. This was the first time he was in Nirauan, and the vibrant green cover of the planet struck him. Even if he risked being detected, he made a couple of passes around the last known location of the asset. Din figured it would be difficult to move through the dense forest and thus needed to pinpoint the best area to look for the asset. He landed several klicks away as the jungle-like environment covered most of the surface of the planet. The puck indicated the bounty was probably hiding in a partially destroyed fortress, where he detected numerous life forms.

“Calvrilhy pirates,” Din thought. If his information was correct, they took over the ruins of the fortress when it was destroyed by Rebels.

After securing the Crest, Din followed the puck's coordinates. Crossing the jungle he arrived at the base of the fortress. He knelt behind a large tree and got out his amban rifle. Through the scope, he scouted the compound. Several pirates were keeping guard at strategic posts, probably alerted by his survey of the planet. He presumed many more should be inside. He couldn't possibly take on all of them.

"This mission is going to be worth every single credit," he thought to himself, and decided to wait for the cover of night to infiltrate and search for his bounty inside.

Din couldn't believe his luck when, upon what looked like a shift change, a Kaleesh took over the easternmost post. The puck confirmed it. It was his asset.

Covertly, he approached the nearest wall and, after firing his grappling hook, started climbing the wall. Din had nearly reached the top when he saw that his asset had turned his back to him. Jumping to the top of the wall, Din’s movements were swift as he put the Kaleesh in a headlocked and pressed his blaster to the alien's forehead.

"Don't make a sound," Din whispered in the man's ear.

Shocked, the bounty remained quiet for a couple of seconds before he started struggling against Din's hold.

"You'll never get into the compound," the bounty said.

"Don't need to; I already have what I want," he whispered back.

"I won't come with you, bounty hunter."

"I can bring you in warm… or I can bring you in cold. Prize won't change. Your choice".

Din pinned the man against a nearby wall, and cuffed his hands to his back. Looking around to make sure his actions had not alerted anyone, he unrolled his whipcord. After securing the hook to the outer wall, he used the other end to tie the man’s ankles together.

"Wait", the man said, "what the hell are you going to…"

He didn't have time to say anything else. With one strong movement the Mandalorian shoved him over the edge of the fortress. The man screamed all the way down. The line stopped the quarry barely a meter above the ground. The Mandalorian quickly climbed down the line. He needed to act fast. The bounty’s screams had alerted the rest of the men guarding the compound. When reaching the ground, he unhooked the man from the line and stored away his gear.

Din pushed the Kaleesh towards the jungle in the direction of the Crest. There was movement starting to build behind them. The beginning of a searching party, he presumed.

Remaining focused, the Mandalorian kept directing the bounty towards his ship when heard a whistling sound coming from the depths of the jungle. His HUD didn’t give any signs of humanoid presence, and he discarded the possibility of a threat. Din increased his pace nevertheless. That was until the bounty gave him a wicked smile before whistling back in the same direction. Picking up on a certain cadence in the man’s whistling put the Mandalorian on high alert. He pressed the end of his blaster to the bounty's back and encouraged the man forward.

"Enough with the noise," Din threatened.

As they continued towards the ship, the bounty suddenly looked into the shadows and whistled once again.

"I said, enough!"

But the Mandalorian barely had the time to finish his word when, from between the trees, stepped out a small globulous green creature. Standing on two long and thin legs, its eight eyes stared directly at Din. It growled menacingly as it slowly approached Din.

In a rush of adrenaline, the Mandalorian shot the creature, which caused no apparent harm, the blasts bouncing off the animal’s skin. Clearly aggravated, it quickenedits approach on Din. Through the corner of his eye, the Mandalorian saw that the Kaleesh was trying to flee using the creature's attack as distraction, but Din shot him in one leg, making him fall with a loud thud to the ground. At the same time, he hit the ground himself, pushed by the blunt force of the animal jumping on him.

Pinned by the green creature, Din managed to turn around and use his vambraces to protect himself from its large teeth. Saliva formed in the mouth of the animal. The instant it hit the Mandalorian’s flight suit, the scent of burned fabric hit him, followed by an intense pain as the acidic fluids reached his skin. The Mandalorian found himself screaming with pain at the same time as the animal sank its large claws in his arm to prevent Din from escaping. Din activated his whistling birds, and half a dozen of projectiles hit the green animal.

At first, the animal seemed to reduce his pressure on him, and Din used the opportunity to roll away from the creature. Seeing it was still alive, with no apparent intention of retreating, the Mandalorian attacked it again, now with his vibroblade in hand, and stabbed it repeatedly. But breaking the creature’s skin caused it to release a gas that took Din by surprise.

Having an extremely strong smell to it, Din instinctively activated the seal in his helmet, not before breathing a small amount of the gas. With the creature now immobile on the ground, Din got back on his feet, panting. He allowed himself a few seconds to evaluate his status, what hurt, and if any injury required immediate attention. He got distracted by the noise of other people in the jungle. The search party was getting near. They needed to move.

He went back to the Kaleesh, who was lying on his back and smiling cockily.

"You got a good dose of my Divvik's gas back there. How are you feeling?" the Kaleesh asked.

"Stand up and move," was Din's only response, but the man didn't make any effort to stand.

The Mandalorian's patience now clearly exhausted, Din bent and grabbed the man's flighsuit collar forcing him to stand and, despite the man’s limp, pushed him again in the direction of the Crest. Din felt his limbs getting heavier, pain and exhaustion suddenly invading. He thought that to be weird, since normally adrenaline should be keeping him in working condition for some time longer. But he knew they needed to get off-world, and fast. His mission was close to being completed, but Din felt like he could fall asleep right there on his feet. By the time he could see the Crest between the trees, his vision started getting blurry. Having his goal in sight motivated him to push harder despite feeling weaker with each step. The Kaleesh noticed how he was struggling and was now outwardly laughing.

"You won't make it out of this planet alive," the bounty said.

The Mandalorian stopped for a minute and searched in his belt. Bringing out a stimshot, he thrusted the syringe into his thigh and emptied its contents, hoping that it would help him with the last dozens of meters and the take-off. Without waiting for the effect of the shot to set in, he immediately pocketed the syringe and restarted the painful task of pushing his asset to the Crest.

After what seemed like an eternity to Din, they reached the ship. He pushed the bounty into the hold, making him hit the ground. With the asset’s hands still bound behind his back, the Mandalorian quickly bound his feet as well before he tumbled to reach the ladder leading to the cockpit. It took a lot of his remaining strength to climb up but he made it and dropped himself into the pilot's chair. He could notice himself starting to feel confused. He needed to start the take-off sequence, a process which he had internalized so deeply with his years of service to the point of it being automatic. But at that very moment he realized he couldn’t remember if the ion flux stabilizers needed to be activated before the main engine pre-heating and ignition command. Panicking, he started to hyperventilate. He recognized he was losing control, there was no way he'd ever forget the take off sequence which was simply muscle memory to him by that point. There was something really going on.

"Keep it together, Djarin," he whispered to himself.

Din closed his eyes and breathed calmly and deeply. He needed to regain control of his emotions. Focusing, he went through the sequence again, the engines came online as he saw the pirate search party coming out of the woods on his starboard side. Blaster fire rebounded off the Crest's hull as Din pulled the ship up, engaged the thrusters, and set course towards the atmosphere.

He felt himself dozing off. His head was pounding, and his ears rang to the point of almost not being capable of hearing the usual and reassuring humming of his ships engines. The biosensors integrated in his armor told him he was starting to be bradycardic and hypotensive. He input the coordinates back to Nevarro on his navicomputer. There was one thing he clearly knew at this point: unless the effects of whatever product he inhaled back on Nirauan miraculously got out of his system, he wouldn’t be able to work the other two bounties he was set to capture in the Wild Space Territories.

Once he hit hyperspace, he dragged himself down to the cargo hold. The Bounty was now sitting against one of the walls. He looked at Din as he stumbled down the ladder.

"How are you feeling?" the Bounty asked with a grin. "I'll admit that I'm impressed. With the amount of toxin you got, I would have bet you'd be dead by now and I would be the happy owner of a… Razor Crest is it?" He said, looking around as if admiring a new acquisition.

"Get up," the Mandalorian ordered.

Grinning, the Kaleesh looked slowly up to Din with a defiant look, with no intention of moving.

"I said, UP!" Din was screaming now. He was tired, needed to tend to himself, and this bounty was just determined to test the limits of his patience.

Upon seeing no reaction from his bounty, he grabbed him by the collar of his flight suit and forced him once more to stand up. Making the Kaleesh take a couple of steps backwards, he set the man in the carbon-freezing chamber.

"No! NO! WAIT! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" The man screamed, realizing what was about to happen.

The man, despite being bound from hands and feet, fought as hard as he could to get out of the Mandalorian's hold. Din continued to shuffle through the chamber’s controls as he pushed the man against the block. He was barely doing this by touch, his sight was getting blurrier, he could barely discern the buttons if it weren't for the colors flashing.

The man continued fighting, trying to get away from the carbonite chamber. Seeing the little effect this was having, he violently headbutted the Mandalorian. Despite being protected by the Beskar, the action didn't help the Mandalorian's pounding headache.

"YOU CAN'T PUT ME IN CARBONITE!"

With all the ringing in Din's ears he wouldn't have heard the Bounty if it wasn't for how loud he was screaming. Finally losing patience, Din grabbed the man by his neck, and looking straight into the man's eyes from behind his visor, he whispered coldly, "Watch me".

"YOU'RE GOING TO FUCKING DIE AND I WILL BE TRAPPED IN HERE, IN A SHIP ADRIFT IN SPACE, FOREVER."

Din punched the final button that activated the chamber and the bounty was finally frozen.

Once the Carbonite cloud started clearing and the chamber stopped its hissing, the gravity of the situation hit Din full force. He stumbled backwards until hitting the wall of the cargo hold and let himself slide down to a sitting position. His ears were ringing so hard it made him dizzy and nauseous. His left arm and leg started to feel numb. Letting his head rest on his knees he forced his foggy mind to reason and evaluate his situation: the bounty mentioned the name of the creature that had attacked him, but feeling increasingly confused, made it difficult to recall the name. One thing he was sure of, is that he hadn't seen or heard of it before. He also recalled the bounty talking about a toxic gas. Nerve toxin, Din reasoned based on his symptoms. He knew he could treat nerve toxins. But how?

The task of concentrating was getting harder. Growling in frustration, Din told himself to think. He knew his trade often worked with a neurotoxic species. What was it? He knew he carried treatment against their stings. Nasty little bugs. What was their name? He couldn't recall.

Not important, Din thought. Now, treatment. He knew he carried something against their stings when he worked the Outer Rim and the Wild Space. Where would he keep the shots? Time was important now, he knew this in the back of his head. Where. Concentrate on the where. The bunk. He kept his med kit in his bunk.

Get to the bunk. The idea turned around in his head, over and over again. Medkit, that was his goal. It was getting increasingly difficult to think. Was this toxin affecting him that fast? Or how long had he actually been sitting there? He tried to make his body move, get up from the ground. His left side wouldn't cooperate enough for him to stand up. Rolling himself onto his right side, he managed getting to his knees and then achieved a resemblance of verticality. Dragging his left side he aimed at getting to his bunk, supporting himself on the crates stowed on the side of the hold.

Din was now sweating profusely. The stimshot's effects were wearing out, he felt the backlash of the effects of whatever he had inhaled. Fumbling with his bunk's control panel, he opened the door and reached for his medkit, emptying its contents on the cot. For a moment, he couldn't recall what he was looking for. He continued ruffling the contents of his medkit. Shots. He was looking for a shot. Of what? He found a couple of stimshots. No, that wasn't it. He wasn't sure he knew anymore what he was looking for. He kept looking through the contents of the kit until he found a small box with vials labeled "Atropine - Kouhuns".

Kouhuns, yes. That's what the neurotoxic bugs were called. If he had a chance at surviving whatever he had inhaled, this was it. He fumbled to load a syringe with the contents of one of the vials, struggling to help himself with his barely working left hand. Din clumsily removed his left vambrace. He expected a loud noise to come from when it hit the ground, but never heard it with the overwhelming ringing of his ears. He rolled up the sleeve of his flight suit and tried injecting the counteragent intravenously without any success.

Frustrated, Din sat back and took a deep breath. He blinked hard several times, trying to clear his vision and then tried one more time. Sure that he had gotten it right that time, he injected the atropine. He never saw the syringe fall from his hand. He never felt it when he hit the ground.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #paz Vizsla #young din djarin #young paz vizsla #the armorer #bounty hunting #injury #whump #ailesswhumptober2023 #prompt 1 #day 1: poisson

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hedgiestail · 6 months

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I wonder what spawn-Astarion will say in new "after" scene when you kill other spawns and not release them? 🤔

btw I won't argue about it and please don't take offence. In no way this is to shit on anyone who enjoys it!

I am OPEN to discussion, just not the "4chan" or reddit or Twitter understanding of discussion. Let's be civil and respect each other's opinion.

After all we are here to have fun!

Also, please, kindly note that I haven't finished act 3 with patch 5 yet and seen only few spoilers with Astarion lines about spawns.

I think that this is one of the thing that Larian done bad in Astarion's quest line.

Too idealist and fairy tale like to release 7000 driven by hunger vampire spawns in the Underdark without any consequence. With none, not a single one, wanting to take revenge upon the ones who doomed them to suffer. To live in a small cages, butt-to-butt, without food, without hope, accompanied only by the screams of the new victims.

"Ah, sorry, we made it because Cazador ordered" won't be the good enough reason to not kill someone who inflicted years, decades of the worst of the nightmares upon you.

How many of them actually have sound enough mind to try and learn how to live without hurting the living? How many of them will go the Cazador way because of the power and revenge?

Also, releasing them to the Underdark... A lot of them would have died in the first few days. Can you imagine this? Finally be free from the nightmare just to be torn apart by some beast

Looking at the vampire children all I can think of is that they will be like that forever. They will never grow up. Thank you, Interview with the vampire, for scarring lil me to the point I can't not think about the tragedy of the vamp-child.

And why no one care about the amount of animals that need to be killed daily for spawns? Astarion alone can suck bear dry, what about 7000 hunger driven spawns? And no, regular humans don't eat a bear or boar per day.

Astarion jokes about them killing another gnome... If it is a joke

So yeah, while it's the horrific choice to make, scary, awful, I believe it's better to kill them(and my boy defenetly got totally wasted after, crying his heart out, as do I)

(I really don't like killing them. Kids especially)

And damm would it be mature if Larian showed some of this consequence

But no

We apparently have a Disney fairy tale

A shame truly

Also what is upsetting is that we can only interact with kids, who are freshly turned and Sebastian

And that's it

I wanna see cages full of cachectic looking spawns trying to catch Tav&Co to feed on them

Don't tell me about Cazador's horrors, show me!

#astarion #bg3 #Baldur's gate patch 5

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lowkeyclueless5137 · 4 months

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The JJK mild au! :D

Because I just want to put the skrunklily through the horrors ™.

Will I have comfort? Will I follow Gege's footsteps and crush any hope of your fave ever catching the light of day in this Au? Welp... Only one way to find out. :3c

Again, if you know jjk, you know the absolute mountain of trigger warnings that will follow this Au. If not, I have a short list with the most proeminent: gore, murder, a lot of unhinged and messed up things... Yep. No one is spared. -3-

And we follow our wittle, tiny Jade this time! Man, I sure hope this one doesn't succumb to the horrors. :3c

So with everything outta the way... You get my pure, unfiltered and unedited thoughts with this Au. It's not like it's a difference from other Au Explanations I have. :'3

Also! I'll have to give u a fair warning: there will be brief spoilers for the anime in here, so I advise you to proceed with caution. I won't tag them, but I will mention certain big events. So when you see a mention of the event you last are up with, it's your cue to click off. :3

There will be also spoilers for book 7 in here so ya know... :3

We start off with bg: Jujutsu sorcerers were all around the world, but Japan had the biggest concentration of curses, hence why the most powerful sorcerers were there along with the elders, main Council organ. To exert some sort of order around, on other continents were instaurated sub-councils with other elders in charge of those matters. Only when very world end-level problems occur do these news reach the main elders and action is throughly taken. There are, ofc, student exchanges and a lot of multicultural trading in those continents as they are big areas who have to concentrate on the place with most curses.

That is your bg for now. This Au takes place in parallel with JJK's plot. Like imagine it starts in between JJK 0's Aftermath and Yuji eating the cursed finger events. Doesn't mean things won't get correlated, so you'll get mentions of the anime events.

We follow Jade. Now Jade was someone who lived quite cozy with his parents, following his local high-school. His brother was given a scholarship to a prestigious school in France and for 2 years Jade didn't see him. He did keep in touch via daily calls. His brother was sending him an abundance of messages and photos, but after his first year, he started to slowly lose contact, to the point Jade had no contact with his brother for some good months. It felt like something was wrong, but Jade assumed that things picked up some pace and his brother was trying to keep it up.

It was the start of school tho, when Jade got the news that his parents were coming home from work, when they got in a car accident. None of them survived, as such the news were given to Jade by his homeroom teach.

He was keeping his calm and he did try to reach his brother, but again, no contact. His teacher informed that his only relatives who could take them in were his aunt and uncle in Japan. Jade still asked for him to not be given a grace period to mourn as he will be fine. What he wants tho, is to get in contact with his brother. He was assured that his brother is likely to be informed as well by his school teachers and he will attend the funeral.

Floyd did not attend the funeral. Instead, an old family friend, Azul, attended. He was from France, but did not mention anything about Floyd. Jade's worries start to skyrocket as something clearly was wrong. Still, he kept his usual Demandour, which gained fear from other students, who couldn't believe Jade was acting like normal when his parents just kicked the bucket. And in a car accident too! So it wasn't something that could be pre-derminated and made peace with that easy.

One day, Jade stood after hours, packing some of his things for his imment move to Japan, when he caught glimpse of someone trespassing. Usually he wouldn't mind it.

But the trespasser looked awfully similar to someone that appeared multiple times in Floyd's photos. The latter did talk about the guy and Jade knew that he was supposed to be in France, not in here, in the east. It was on the whole other side of Europe!

So Jade pursues the guy, finding out he's named Jamil. The guy had with him some small thing that he was frantically trying to wrap in some seal bandage. He was hurrying and as such, Jade took him by surprise.

Jamil almost called out to Floyd, looking as if he saw a ghost, to which Jade took as another red flag. He inquired to know why Jamil was here and what was he doing with whatever that was. The latter was all tensed up and clearly ready to attack Jade, but he suddenly halted and rushed inside the school without any warning.

Jade didn't have any idea what was going on, but all he knew was that the school was getting trashed by an invisible force that Jamil apparently could see and could interact with. He seemed eager to protect whatever that thing was, but he dropped it and Jade picked it up.

It was a finger. Jade had a very bad feeling about it, but apparently whatever that invisible force was knocked him into a wall and thus the finger ended up in Jade's mouth. With the need for air, the latter swallowed the finger in an attempt at clearing his throat and taking a breath. He couldn't spit it because his mouth was holded close by the invisible force.

And slowly, Jade saw the invisible thing gaining a figure. It was a monster, looking more like a bunch of formless flesh moving around, with a big mouth darted with fangs, ready to eat Jade up, but thing suddenly went black.

Meanwhile, for Jamil, imagine his horror when he saw the curse blasted from inside out and Jade there, but with marks lining his body. 4 eyes looked at Jamil, which shaped into an all infamous grin as it wasn't Jade anymore, but someone else, someone who immediately butchered that curse.

And Jamil wanted to fight the new guy, but he gets stopped when the marks and 2nd pair of eyes dissappear and Jade finds himself in the middle of the whole mess, absolutely confused about what happened.

To add salt to the wound, Azul shows up. Jamil looks absolutely done with the latter, who apparently, was his teacher. Jade did inquire to know what the actual fuck is going on, because he thought he would die in here, only to find his jacket and tie ripped to shreds and in the middle of a crater made in the school floor.

Azul only inspects a bit Jade, asking very odd questions such as: do you feel wierd? Do your sides feel crammed? Is your teeth hurting? Do you carve meat? Questions which got all a prompt no from Jade. He only says that he feels a need to sleep, to which Azul reassures that he should succumb to it.

The second Jade closes his eyes, the marks reappear, the eye colors switch, an adițional pair of eyes open and nails grow longer. The new person Azul refers to as Floyd, who didn't look happy the slightest at the sight of the latter, accusing him of being a backstabber.

So Azul holds up his point that he was helpless in that situation, all the while dodging Floyd's attacks. Jamil is watching because Azul forbid him from getting into the fight, rather he watched what exactly was a special grade capable of. Floyd seemed more cautious than before, which allowed Azul to easily knock him out.

When Jade wakes up, he's in a very cold room, littered with seals as his hands are tied heavily. In front of him, Azul was standing and clearly found the situation as amusing as Jade did. The younger one asked what in the world is going on, to which Azul replies that Jade is oddly calm for the situation that he is in.

Then he moves aside, revealing that behind him, there was someone else tied up, facing Jade. Unlike Jade tho, the said person was tied by every limb, with heavy chains, their hands sealed in a metal box, impossible to see from inside. What was more or less wierd were the fins the person had on their body, which were quite big and sharp, almost like knives.

Jade tho, recognised the teal hair and the frame. It was Floyd, his very own twin brother.

Before Jade could even sink in the info, Azul explains that Floyd was here because he discovered a forbidden ritual. He achieved something that was believed to be almost impossible: a complete metamorphosis into a curse. Hence why the inhuman appearance.

Azul adds that the European council of elders deemed Floyd as 'the next sukuna' and in fear of him betraying them, they sealed him away and cut his fingers, in hopes they could use them as cursed artefacts and thus use them to keep curses around a bit more tamed, just how Japan used Sukuna's fingers for the exact purpose. So far, Floyd's situation is one of a sealed curse, thus he shouldn't be a problem anymore.

What the council disregarded tho, was Azul, who wanted to know how exactly his student achieved such thing. And Jade was the answer. He tells Jade that now Floyd's consciousness moved into Jade and he could take control any time he deems fit. Jade didn't have enough cursed energy before so Floyd's sudden overtake spiked it up, hence he could see his brother now.

Jade only demands to be freed. For him and his brother to be freed, but Azul denies him of that. He says that if the council finds out that Jade ate a cursed finger and currently is a vessel for Floyd, they will execute him. But, Azul promises that he will free Jade on one condition: Comply with his terms, keep this whole ordeal a secret and help him find out how this metamorphosis was achieved. It was something revolutionary after all. It wasn't a reincarnation, rather something else. And Azul wanted to find out what.

Jade has to accept, but he puts his own condition: that Azul will do anything in his power to free his brother. With these, the deal is made and Azul frees Jade from his imprisonment. Not before knocking him out first. :3

And while knocked out, Jade finds himself on soft sand, in a sort of underwater like place. Everything felt lighter and even fishes and other sea creatures swam around, some even passing through Jade.

And that's also when he hears and sees Floyd again.

The latter had the same marks on his body, but only his ear fins and claws were present. He mentions how this is not what he had in mind for a reunion, but is taken aback when Jade hugs him and tells him that he missed the funeral. That their parents died and now both were supposed to be under their aunt's custody.

Floyd, unlike how Azul warned that curses are quite unfazed by death, tears up at the news and at first tries to play it off as just a very lame joke from his brother. But it was real. And when the confirmation is made, Jade could see how the place darkened and fishes around fleed. Floyd bursted into tears and Jade could do oh so much but to hug him and pat his back. The latter begged for Jade to do anything but get in trouble, but it was too late.

Both were aware of the deal Jade had with Azul and as such, both knew that if they wanted to be back together and safe, they would have to fight against the system.

So while at that, Floyd decides to fill Jade in with everything. He was currently in Floyd's domain: Eden's Abyss. Floyd explains the basics of jujutsu and gives to Jade an insight on what he should expect.

But what Floyd adds is the way the council works here, in Europe. In Japan things were far more straightforward, with bloodlines being preserved for their jujutsu techniques. In here it was a whole amalgam of who has and who doesn't. Since jujutsu is a hereditary trait, Floyd clears out that there one of their ancestors was a jujutsu sorcerer. The gene just wasn't awakened in anyone until Floyd himself.

What Floyd makes clear was that in Europe, the council was made out of the most whealty jujutsu sorcerers. They primarily used their money to establish their own monopoles and as such use them to hide the actual activities of jujutsu sorcerers.

Right now, Floyd gave to Jade 3 important names: The Asims, the Shrouds and Crowley. He adds that unfortunately, the strongest European sorcerer is Malleus Draconia, whose grandma was kicked out of the council, following her daughter's actions years ago.

Floyd made it clear that he hates Crowley especially, since he was the one who gave the decree of sealing him away.

Jade asks what he's supposed to do to free his brother. Floyd admits that it's not that simple, since without his cursed power, which was sealed in the fingers, he would be as good as dead meat the second he's freed from those chains. He doesn't know where fingers are scattered, but if Jade has one, he should search for the rest. Once he gets all of them, Floyd promises he'll 'handle it from there'. He should nudge Azul into searching for the fingers, since he would know most likely where most of them were.

After that plan is devised, the 2 actually do chat and catch up with one another. Until Floyd deems that enough time passed and Jade should wake up. As such Jade is kicked out of the domain and back into consciousness.

Jade wakes up on a couch, in a notably very large living room. Azul notes how he woke up and that his husbands are gone to work now, so Jade will have time to get filled with his chores.

Azul made some mending so that Jade is unofficially participating under his courses as a jujutsu teacher. He is not allowed to go on campus ground, nor is he allowed to have a dorm room, so in the mean time, Jade will be a guest in Azul's penthouse and do chores when the latter has work on the school campus.

For now, Azul presents around and gets Jade to understand that at the moment he's in fricking Paris and since he doesn't know French, it would be a bit of a hard time to do errands outside. Azul was, ofc, prepared for this, saying that he always had his students who don't know French use sum flashcards at first. They were some pretty simple ones, with translation on the back of them.

Jade notes how he talked with Floyd while he was unconscious. At that, Azul perks up, asking if by chance, Floyd could hear them. Jade indeed confirms that his twin can hear what he hears and see what Jade sees. Floyd just chooses not to bother with the latter.

Azul exhales and starts by saying that if Floyd is wondering about the fingers, that is the problem: Azul was denied of knowing anything about the fingers. Jamil, his student, was sly enough to get sum Intel about one and hence his meeting with Jade. Currently the fingers are used to draw in one place curses before they would be properly turned into seals.

But, for the meantime, this is everything Jade shall know about.

That night, Jade caught Azul talking over the phone with his husbands, seemingly being upset over something. Jade doesn't pry as the latter only serves him dinner, opting to not eat too before going to bed. Floyd also seems to not know what's going on with Azul and his love life, but he assumes something was up.

First days were Azul teaching Jade basics in jujutsu control, all the while Jade gets to know Azul's other 2 students: Kalim and Jamil. Kalim is a sunshine and Jamil is just a resting bitch face on main. :'3

Jamil tries to 'educate' Jade on Azul, saying that this guy makes place for owning a restaurant, teaching jujutsu sorcery and also being overly flamboyant and dramatic. He absolutely hates Azul's guts and would rather have been teacher by the other teach at the school: Lilia Vanrogue. Unfortunately that old guy has already 2 pupils under him. And Jamil wholeheartedly believed that he could beat both of the 'elite' students and impress Vanrogue, but Azul still won't give him an opportunity to meet a sorcerer who could promote him to a grade 2 or more.

Kalim tho seemed pretty happy with his grade 3.

At first Jade his hand in trying out to fight curses around. To ensure that Floyd won't go apeshit every fucking time Jade's on a mission, Azul gave to the latter a grade 3 cursed weapon, to have everyone on the same foot somewhat. He would stay with them and always be in a close proximity in case of anything. Afterwards, if they did a good job, the latter would treat them to something nice from his restaurant menu.

One day, Jade is sent to do errands when he stumbles upon a bakery. The guy at the cashier was one year older than Jade, who introduced himself as Trey. He was pretty nice and even gave to Jade a croissant on the house part, saying that he looks awfully similar to a buddy of his friend.

Unfortunately, a curse also was in proximity. And unfortunately, Jade thought it would be short work since it looked weak. It didn't do anything, only move around in the ground and avoiding being stepped on by unsuspecting people.

Jade followed it, getting himself to meet much more stronger curses. Of course, trying to retreat proved futile and Floyd deemed it necessary to take over and finish off the curses in question. Still the fact that he was only at 1 finger power and overnumbered meant he didn't get out unscratched, hence Jade found himself with a much longer stay in the Eden's Abyss.

When Jade wakes up, the first person he sees is a very annoyed Azul, who nags him about getting into danger. The good part was that Floyd took over and stumbled upon another special grade who could heal the body itself.

The good news: they found a finger and the condition they could use to track the others.

Bad news: Riddle found out. And boy is he NOT happy of the whole ordeal.

Jade does inquire to know who tf is Riddle, to which it comes the response: Riddle is the special grade curse who can take on a human form. His job is to act like a healer for the European jujutsu society and in return he's not immediately killed.

Riddle himself was also there and immediately gives a forehead flick to Jade, nagging him for drawing curses near the bakery. The bakery is a place Riddle usually frequents as Trey is his friend as such is a ground 0, where curses rarely gather up. With the lately spike in them, Riddle was more around the place. But Jade's presence itself made the finger to react and thus act like a sort of caller for curses around.

Azul brings up that he will have to bribe some other sorcerers around the aera to not say a thing about the finger missing. He had calls non-stop and he blames Jade for wondering aimlessly after curses.

After that thing, Azul gets an order from the higher-ups to investigate a 'grade 2' curse with his students, which was roaming through the catacombs.

Surprise, surprise, it's a special grade. Now Azul would've been fine if it was just one, but no. There were multiple, all spread through the catacombs. Floyd insisted, multiple times, for his brother to let him take over, but Jade was stubborn, his recent nagging still pushing him to prove that he could deal with things without his brother needing to take over.

Jade almost dies so Floyd forcefully takes over in order to try and preserve what little life was left in the body.

It ends again, with Riddle whining about Jade being even more stubborn than his brother, while Azul clearly paces around and Kalim with Jamil try to calm tf down their teacher.

Meanwhile, Floyd confronts his brother his domain. Really both of them could've been gone for, to which Jade replies that Floyd still had 8 other fingers to use to get free.

Floyd says that he doesn't want to be free if he knows his one and only brother died because of him.

And this is what apparently breaks Jade down enough to sob aloud and cry about the fact that he almost died in there. He didn't want to die. He didn't want Floyd to die. He didn't want anyone in his family to die anymore. Why was that such a hard task?

Floyd really didn't know what to say to comfort his twin. He was blunt: Jade is though, but he shouldn't push to the very end. Leave things to him when it gets overwhelming.

A thing to note about Floyd, now that Jade had 3 out of 10 fingers, was that he was a bit more closer to the form Jade first saw chained up. It was a sign that the latter was growing in power.

And it showed also through other things, such as sometimes popping up on Jade's cheek as an eye with a mouth to speak outloud or sometimes controlling one of Jade's hands to show a sign or smth. It wasn't that drastic, but it was smth.

Meanwhile, Azul got a concerning call, which put him in a quite foul mood for the whole week. It showed in a much harsher training and overall not being his usual dramatic self.

What was the reason? His husbands came back. Jade initially thought it was something to be happy about, since those were his husbands after all. He never saw the 2 up until now.

No, Azul was mad because of WHY these 2 came back.

And it's painfully obvious when Jade sees for the first time Idia and Malleus, both looking quite apologetic. Alas, despite his raging need to scream and let his frustrations loose, Azul forgave them, which was surprising to Jade. Being an old family friend, Jade had his fair share of times where Azul got angry and boy does he not forgive that easy.

Idia was a grade one with his cursed weapon which housed inside Ortho. Malleus was a special grade due to his jujutsu technique and his domain expansion: Fae of Maleficene.

The latter insists on why Jade is here and Azul admits that Jade is Floyd's twin and thus he is taking care of him. Idia does raise a brow at that, but doesn't question, saying that the council found out that he was with Yuuta and helping him with working with Rika. Yuuta had to prepare for a leave when news about Sukuna reincarnating reached around, along with the Shibuya incident. Hence they decided to have Idia train some first years, while Malleus is entrusted with exterminating the 'curses hospots' caused by the fingers. It was supposed to be a secret mission, but clearly Malleus couldn't lie to anyone to save his ass.

As such, for starters, Azul insists for Jade to tag along with Malleus. He isn't actually repartised as any kind of student so him laying off the radar, under Malleus, will be a perfect way to keep at least a worry off.

As for Idia, Azul brought up how he didn't really know about the first years given to the latter. Idia admits that maybe their son did turn over a new leaf and things would be better.

Jade had no fricking idea Azul had a kid to start with.

Entering the first years coming to Paris. Unlike Jade's expectation to be 2 or 3, these mfs were 5 in number. And all were quite a bunch. From the discussion about them, Jade expected that the lavender haired one or the ginger to be the son in question, since they were more rowdy.

No, it was Deuce, the quiet bluenette, who seemed very happy to see again his parents.

Idia did take the first years with him, since they would stay at the dorms and Azul had to bid farewell to Jade for a while as now he had to follow Malleus around.

And it was awkward af. The latter was painfully blunt in everything. The pure truth was always given. As such, Jade took a leap of fate and asked about Deuce.

Malleus admits that Deuce is not a biological child, rather Deuce was found after an incident with a curse. He was small, around 2 or 3 and Azul was the one that found him. His mother was killed by said curse and the child unknowingly thought she fell asleep, so he was trying to wake her up because he was scared of the 'monster' in his room.

Malleus admits that maybe it was his and Idia's skepticism of the situation at start that may have nudged Deuce to grow into a delinquent and thus be sent to a boarding school as a last resort. But Azul missed him dearly and was heartbroken to know that the council was expecting for Deuce to become a jujutsu sorcerer hence why they made the papers in secret to transfer Deuce from the said school. No one is very proud of their status as a sorcerer in here. If you don't have money or the immense luck to be born in a family of the council, any mistake can be fatal.

With that out of the way, Jade is assisting Malleus with dealing with the curses hotspots, but they find no fingers. Something clearly was amiss.

Even Floyd was restless, telling his brother that he is sensing something wrong. He doesn't know what, but his gut is rarely wrong, so he asks of Jade to be on his toes in case of anything.

Things clearly were becoming more weirder. Azul apparently reported an increase in grade 1 curses and so far, the council dispatched Azul's team to all of them, as if expecting 2 grade 3 sorcerers to deal with that. He tried to take it with Lilia, but the latter admits that his students were given awfully simple missions. They were working lately with grade 4s and it was clear with each day that his students had to train separately to keep their skills sharp.

Then Idia comes, with his own report. His students were on a mission with a supposed grade 1. I say supposed, because Idia himself returned with a huge wound across his torso and the rest thankfully escaped with smaller ones, only because Ortho was aiding. Idia concludes that something is amiss with the curses labeling since what they exorcised there was a special grade.

Riddle also had his plate full, as being the only one who could use reverse cursed technique and heal others. He was a curse himself, but he has his limits too, you know?

Now when Jade talked with Jamil and Kalim, the 2 admit that now they know why Azul was so skeptical on a promotion. Jamil remembered that Floyd got himself a promotion to semi-grade 1 back before he became a curse and they were suddenly having a less of a spike in difficulty. It was Azul's scheme of training them without the council intervening too much. Silver and Ruggie, Lilia's students, were currently semi-grade 1 and grade 2 respectively.

It also implies that, for some reason, the council aims to exterminate the lower grades.

And for this, we suddenly get an announcement from the council: the one who kills Jade Leech will get promoted to grade 1 sorcerer and gain a seat in the council itself.

You can imagine Jade's absolute shock upon finding out this. It was a hunt for him of all people and to make matters worse, it was mentioned that currently he has no cursed technique or enough cursed energy to even see curses. The others would see Jade as already dead, a short work of you will.

The problem, clearly was Azul, who was protecting Jade.

And this is made painfully clear when Azul suddenly decides that they have to flee to Italy. They still had 6 fingers to find as Jade and Malleus uncovered 1 during their expeditions together. Idia offered to take Kalim and Jamil under his wing for as long as Azul needs to be gone.

Jade insists tho, that he can manage. He has Floyd by his side and he could deal with those sorcerers who desperately want that place in the council. Azul denies him of going alone, knowing that they are talking about multiple people who chase after the spot. From grade 3 to 1, everyone wants a spot in the council. It's the only way to assure one's future for the rest of their life.

But, they don't even get to leave Paris, that already chaos unleashed. Many sorcerers were simply hunting for each other in order to eliminate competition, which in turn got non-sorcerers to run around in panic and try to flee the sudden wierd disasters. Paris was big and crowded, which only allowed for more calamities to happen and thus more injured.

And that's also when the new decree is made: that Azul is a traitor for protecting Jade and thus he is also on the list for ramson.

It was all an elaborate plan to pin the blame on Azul and get rid of him once and for all.

Up until now, Jade never saw Azul's cursed technique. He only used a special grade weapon: Neptune's wrath, which seemed to do the job. But now, Jade gets to see upclose Azul's actual cursed technique: Replica, a technique which allows Azul to replicate to perfection other cursed techniques he sees. He replicated Riddle's Reverse cursed technique to heal himself and Jade mid battle, along with a bunch of others from different sorcerers.

This is also why Azul was a special grade. If only he sees a technique, he could immediately replicate it. It's an absolute broken ability and Jade wondered why Azul didn't use it so often.

But, with every sorcerer that comes their way, Jade is painfully made aware on why. It's either kill or be killed. Either they finish off the said sorcerer or manage to permanently immobilise them, or they will both die at the hand of the enemy.

Azul insisted for them to head to Italy, because in Rome is situated the council meeting place. They needed to get there and make justice with their own hands.

Unfortunately, people start allying together, which only makes more difficulty to flee the city. The airport was closed off due to the chaos and Paris itself was bordered around to 'keep the supranatural circumstances confined'.

At one moment, the 2 run into Vil, a grade 1 sorcerer with a unique cursed technique: Condition of beauty. He can put a condition on anything in his touch range and if the condition isn't met, Vil entraps the enemy who touched the object into a small charm prison. He can release them at will too, so one knows that Vil has at his disposal some effects, curses and even sorcerers he could summon in battle.

And Vil manages to catch Azul with his technique. Now, Jade expected wholeheartedly to be killed the second he saw Azul gone.

But Vil notes how Jade was able to see his technique. He saw the charms and the curses he released. And this goes against the council's claim that Jade is a normal guy.

As such, Vil gives to Jade, by force, 4 cursed fingers that he was initially told to dispatch. Vil used those to lure out curses, but now he had a pretty good idea that Azul protected Jade because of the finger that went missing in Jade's aera at first. He mentions how the staged accident surely got rid of half the problem for the council.

And something snaps in both of the twins. When Floyd takes over, he's downright rabid over the news that their parents's accident was staged. Why tf didn't Azul tell them that?!

Vil says that Azul is blacklisted from a lot of things. His husbands, students and the bribes he gives around are the only way he gets news of things. If he doesn't suspect something, he doesn't take action to find out.

Floyd does end up pinning Vil to the ground and inquiring why he should even think of sparing his life. The answer is simple: Vil has Azul and if Floyd kills him, all of the living things that were holded hostages in the charms will die.

Floyd does comply and gives the control back to Jade, who asks what does Vil gain out of it. The model says that he is sick and tired of the council and wants to get rid of them. And the only way that is assured, is if they awaken what they feared the most: Floyd. Floyd's main cursed technique: bounce off, is a technique which allows for any attack to ricochet off Floyd himself or something else he places his technique on. Since he became a curse, Floyd developed much more volatile attacks, whom became an actual threat to the council.

As such, Vil promises to only free Azul after Floyd will finish off the council.

Unfortunately, for them, they run into Deuce, who is more than mad over Azul being sealed. Add with the chaos that holds up Idia and others, it's clear that reasoning was hard to reach the latter.

In the end, Deuce dies... Not by Vil, Jade or Floyd, but because Vil unsealed Azul temporarily once an enemy ambushed them and took Deuce hostage. Seeing the special grade, the enemy immediately killed Deuce, using that as an attempt at a distraction, knowing that Azul would mourn his son. And he did do exactly that.

Except that Jade was the one who actually kills the enemy, as to not let them get away. Azul is absolutely devastated and Vil offers to seal him in a charm again, to not witness this. Azul wanted to deny, but Jade accepted for him, reasoning that if the sorcerers see only Jade and Vil keeps sum distance, they would assume Azul was taken care of and thus leave him in an advantage.

When asked where did Vil even bring them, the model says that he will bring them to the execution room, where Floyd's material body is kept. They had 8 fingers already. Vil deemed it enough to free Floyd.

Unfortunately, on the way, we have many others who kicked the bucket: Kalim(he tried to protect Jamil), Ruggie(he used himself as a distraction so the group could proceed), Sebek (sacrificed himself for Silver and Lilia), Ace(died when he fought a grade 1 sorcerer in an attempt at taking them away from the civilians). There were others such as Cater and Rook, whom Jade bearly meet, yet still they died for Vil.

Reaching, finally, the said room, Vil was the one who unsealed Floyd, the latter gaining slowly consciousness, yet he needed much more than that.

Imagine Jade's shock when his own brother stabbed him in order to get back his power. He still missed 2 fingers, thus he wasn't at his full potential, but he knew a bit of reverse curse technique to heal Jade back up.

Unfortunately, this is where Jade's supposed adventure should end. Floyd deemed that his brother did enough and this is now in between him and the council that sealed him away and planned to kill their parents. Jade, tho, denies of this, saying that he wants to avenge his parents too. That he wants to protect Floyd, that he didn't go through all this just to be told to sit back now, when it was clear it's needed any kind of help they could get.

What doesn't help them is that, this time, more sorcerers, the elite ones, were going around for them. Vil was killed, not before releasing everything in his charms with his last breath, thus unleashing a chaos of rampant curses. At least Azul was free, but at the cost of a lot of special grade curses reeking havoc around.

One of those curses was Floyd tho, who still was looking for his last 2 fingers. He felt their presence and demanded that he couldn't hunt down the council is he doesn't get the last 1.

One was hidden among the catacombs, which was an easy grab.

The other was at Lilia. :'3

And Lilia, clearly takes a jab at Azul for helping out the curse. He was always wary of Riddle, for curses have in their nature to feast upon one's suffering. Riddle was a curse on expectations. He thrived in here and he healed people just so he could thrive off their unfulfilled expectations. But Floyd? No one knew what kind of curse Floyd was. He used to be a human, but now he is a curse. A curse on what? What deep negative emotions could possibly Floyd be thriving from?

Unfortunately, Lilia was much more experienced than Azul, a fellow special grade with 1 technique: return to nature. Using that on Azul before he could copy it, immediately made the latter an easy kill.

Which, again, seemed to snap something in Jade. Floyd was leading the attack, but Jade was actually fighting and finishing off Lilia, via a stab in the throat.

Yet, despite their need to move on quick, Floyd allowed for them to stay a few minutes, once he saw Jade's tear full face. Floyd could only offer a hug and summon his domain, knowing that they are overwhelmed in this situation. He was back to his full power, but that was also with a price.

Jade does ask his brother, why did he become a curse in the first place? To look where they are now and tell him why did Floyd to that? Why did he give up on his humanity?

Floyd replies that he became a curse, that is meant to condamn all curses. His hatred of curses took roots and feed on other sorcerers's hatred. Already it was complicated and it only allowed for the whole process to be faster.

And now, Floyd tried feeding off his brother's hatred for this whole situation. He didn't find any hatred for curses, to which came the response: Jade could never hate his brother. He didn't hate curses, rather he hated the council, for the council was responsible for all of this.

And Floyd promises, while still in the hug, that he will do anything in his power to help Jade reach his goal.

And thus, it is born a binding vow in between the 2.

And here we finish off for now :3

With a cliffhanger, for all your hanging needs. :3

At the start, there were a lot of subplots: Azul's restaurant, Jamil wanting a promotion, Trey shenanigans... Then you slowly get even more once other students get introduced, only to have them end up with a halt when the hunt for Jade starts.

Theoretically, the twins doing their binding vow would happen around the time of the culling games arc in cannon JJK, so imagine that it's around that if you wonder what Yuji was up to during that time. :3

Welp... That would be all for now!

Until next time! Buh bye! :3

#twisted wonderland #jjk au #Damn everyone is starting nice and slow #And then half the cast hits the bucket -3-#There are book 7 spoilers #And a few for the Shibuya incident Aftermath #So that's everything to note #Also Jade's an interesting protagonist... :3 #It's fun to throw him through the horrors :3 #He broke down like 2 times in this whole thing

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yuukinoryuu · 2 years

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Hello! A few DL asks for you >:3c 🌏 - What’s one thing you’d like to know about the demon world that we don’t already? 💚 - How much of an impact has DL had on your life? 👥 - You get the choice to swap bodies with one member of the DL cast for a full 24 hours, who do you pick and why?

Thanks for the ask, Rabu! ❤

(Español debajo)

🌏 - What’s one thing you’d like to know about the demon world that we don’t already?

I'm not so sure about this since there's still a lot of routes I haven't played so I'm probably missing a lot of info because I'm avoiding spoilers! The games I've played the most are the first two (I swear I've done Ayato's route at least 5 times xD) But I remember that when I was playing Carla's DF, I was very curious about the vibora and all the other clans, it'd be nice to know more about the war and old history of the demon world.

💚 - How much of an impact has DL had on your life?

A huge impact, definitely! It's the one thing I'd answer if someone asked me what interests me the most (apart from BNHA now hahah). I remember watching the anime and being like hmm interesting concept, but what really got me into DL was when I started playing the first game (which was kinda difficult because back then I didn't understand as much japanese as I do now xD).

Apart from the fangirling, which of course makes me happy too, for me DL is the thing that has really helped me at bad times or when I wanted to evade from the world. It's truly something that brings me happiness. There's a lot of things I enjoy since I love anime, art and music but DL has a special meaning to me; its characters and stories, their development through the games (which I think has a lot of depth), the details I see when I take a close look at their routes -what they say, how they say it,- the interpretations and hidden meanings in their songs (which btw I think are well thought and musically great), and a lot more other things! I don't know how to explain it, I think that inside the DL world, every character is so interesting to get to know, and none of them feels like plain to me. I also love the general theme, I enjoy a lot dark, gothic concepts with the right amount of erotism! And of course vampires! 💞

Even though it's been a while since I've played the games, DL is something very present in my daily life, for example with the music, which I don't ever get tired of listening lmao

👥 - You get the choice to swap bodies with one member of the DL cast for a full 24 hours, who do you pick and why?

is Yui a valid answer or too predictable? 😂 if I had to pick one of the boys, I'd probably say Carla or Shin because of the amount of time they have lived and how much they have experienced. I'm really interested in how someone like them sees life, even for a day!

⚜⚜⚜

🌏 - ¿Qué te gustaría saber sobre el mundo demoníaco que no sepamos todavía?

No estoy tan segura sobre esto porque todavía me quedan muchas rutas así que creo que me falta información porque huyo de todo spoiler! Los juegos a los que más he jugado son los primeros (debo de haber jugado la ruta de Ayato mínimo 5 veces xD). Pero me acuerdo de que jugando la ruta de Carla DF, me daban mucha curiosidad los víbora y los otros clanes, sería guay saber más sobre la guerra e historia antigua del mundo demoníaco.

💚 - ¿Cuánto impacto ha tenido DL en tu vida?

Definitivamente un enorme impacto! Es una de las cosas que respondería si alguien me preguntara qué es lo que más me interesa (aparte de BNHA ahora mismo jajaj). Me acuerdo de ver el anime por primera vez y de pensar que el concepto era interesante, pero lo que realmente me hizo meterme de lleno fue cuando empecé a jugar al primer juego (lo que fue difícil porque por aquel entonces a diferencia de ahora apenas entendía nada de japonés xD).

Aparte del fangirleo, que por supuesto me hace feliz también, para mí DL es algo que me ha ayudado mucho en malos momentos o cuando quería evadirme del mundo. Realmente es algo que me da felicidad. Como me gusta el anime, la música y el arte hay muchas cosas que disfruto pero DL es especial para mí; sus personajes e historias, su desarrollo a lo largo de los juegos (que pienso que realmente tiene mucha profundidad), los detalles que capto cuando reviso cuidadosamente sus rutas -lo que dicen, cómo lo dicen-, las interpretaciones y referencias en sus canciones (que la verdad están muy bien pensadas y musicalmente geniales), y muchas otras cosas más! No sé cómo explicarlo, creo que dentro del mundo de DL, todos los personajes son interesantes de conocer, ninguno de ellos me parece aburrido. Además también me encanta la temática general, tengo debilidad por esa atmósfera oscura y gótica, con la cantidad perfecta de erotismo! Y por supuesto, los vampiros! 💞

Aunque sí que ha pasado un tiempo desde que jugaba, DL es algo muy presente en mi día a día, por ejemplo, las canciones, que no me canso nunca de escucharlas 🤣

👥 - Tienes la oportunidad de cambiar cuerpos con alguien del reparto de DL por 24 horas, ¿a quién escoges y por qué?

Puedo decir Yui o es demasiado predecible? 😂 Si tuviera que escoger uno de los chicos, probablemente diría Carla o Shin por el tiempo que han vivido y todo lo que deben haber experimentado. Me interesa mucho saber cómo alguien tan longevo ve la vida, aunque sea por un día!

#diabolik lovers #dl #dl tag #diabolik lovers tag #tag game #tag #personal

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deep-space-exploration · 2 years

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Which asteroids represent a real danger to life on Earth? Is there any plan to defend ourselves from asteroids?

At this time and for many generations, none.

We are talking about Asteroids, not meteoroids, comets or objects with a diameter greater than one km.

Meteoroids fall daily to Earth, a total of 50 mt, yes, 50 tons. Of course, not in solid blocks, but in fine powder scorched by friction with the atmosphere.

Comets? , there are none in sight, except for Halley who is scheduled to visit in 2062 (I think), but who will not make a mess either.

The famous Perseids that are seen profusely on these dates (better between 4:00 and 5:30), are produced by the crossing of the Earth's orbit near the comet Swift-Tuttle, which expels millions of small excrescences the size of a grain of beach sand, that is, we are talking about star dust.

Here the only real danger is in the following.

The Sun revolves around the galaxy, more or less in a circular orbit (shooting ellipse, but not as pronounced as that of the planets). But it does not do so in a straight direction, rather its wandering is accompanied by sinusoidal oscillations - a sine function - that make it periodically rise and fall from the rectilinear plane. In one of these oscillations, it possibly approached (the Solar System) the ring that is known to be located at one of the extremes of the galaxy, parallel to its central ring. That ring is made up of dark matter that I prefer to call transparent, since it neither absorbs nor reflects light. But the effects of this unknown matter (for not being seen), we can detect, thanks to gravity. That happened 65 million years ago. The Solar System coincided with the crossing of an asteroid about 10 km in diameter (which came with complete certainty from the Oort Cloud), and which was diverted from its course by the influence of the gravity of dark matter. Gravity, contrary to popular belief, does not attract, but rather pushes. And such an object ended up in the Yucatan Peninsula, where it caused a waste of energy many zeros higher than the kilotons of all the atomic bombs experienced and not experienced. Such an encounter destroyed almost all life on the planet. It was the extinction of the dinosaurs and 2/3 of the rest of the animal and plant species, etc. but rather, push. And such an object ended up in the Yucatan Peninsula, where it caused a waste of energy many zeros higher than the kilotons of all the atomic bombs experienced and not experienced. Such an encounter destroyed almost all life on the planet. It was the extinction of the dinosaurs and 2/3 of the rest of the animal and plant species, etc. but rather, push. And such an object ended up in the Yucatan Peninsula, where it caused a waste of energy many zeros higher than the kilotons of all the atomic bombs experienced and not experienced. Such an encounter destroyed almost all life on the planet. It was the extinction of the dinosaurs and 2/3 of the rest of the animal and plant species, etc.

Well, except for something similar, there is nothing 30 million years away that can keep us awake at night. Of course, there will always be the spoilers who preach the catastrophe, the end of days, the encounter of an object that, certainly, is going to pass nearby (close here it exceeds 1 AU, which is the Earth-Sun distance). In August it happened and there were already people who had reconciled with the Creator, or had moved to the mountain, etc.

Don't worry, the planet has more than 5,000 years to live and not even climate change, which is true, is going to put an end to it.

What happens after a supernova explodes?

#asteroid #earth #life

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nepenthean-sleep · 2 years

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Jinx and the Portrayal of Psychosis in Arcane

Content warnings for: mental illness, psychosis, death mention, and unreality. Major spoilers for Arcane episodes 1-9.

[ID: A screenshot of Jinx from episode 9 of Arcane, sitting in her chair and looking sadly into the camera. The title of the analysis, “Jinx and the Portrayal of Psychosis in Arcane,” is superimposed on the image.]

Arcane has quickly become one of my all-time favorite shows. Much of my love for it stems from the breathtaking animation and stellar writing, but one of the biggest reasons why I love Arcane is the superb portrayal of Jinx’s struggle with mental illness, specifically borderline personality disorder and psychosis, though this essay will only focus on psychosis. As a psychotic person, finding good representation of psychosis in media is extremely difficult. However, Arcane portrayed Jinx’s psychosis in a respectful, sympathetic, non-romanticized, and honest way that I could personally relate to. I wanted to analyze this in hopes that it may bring more awareness to psychosis itself, as well as to explain this part of Jinx’s characterization to fans.

What is psychosis? First of all, psychosis is not a disorder. Psychosis is a psychiatric symptom with its own range of symptoms. Common symptoms of psychosis include disorganized behavior and/or thinking, catatonia, or changes in mood, personality, or daily activities, but the defining characteristic of psychosis is the presence of hallucinations and/or delusions (2). Hallucinations are sensory experiences that aren’t grounded in reality, such as smelling freshly baked cookies when there are none around. Hallucinations can be of any of the five senses, and they’re experienced as external (like hearing something through headphones), not internal (like hearing something in your head when you think). Delusions are vehemently strong beliefs that aren’t grounded in reality and are outside of the person’s cultural and religious beliefs, such as believing there’s a microchip in your hand when x-rays prove that there isn’t one. The main types of delusions are bizarre (literally incomprehensible to others) and non-bizarre. Non-bizarre delusions have several subtypes, but for this analysis, I will be focusing primarily on the most common type of delusion, paranoid delusions. Paranoid (also called “persecutory”) delusions typically involve the feeling that someone has or is trying to inflict harm on you or a loved one, such as thinking a coworker is trying to get you fired from your job. For more information about delusions, check out this Wikipedia page: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delusion.

Anyone can experience psychosis, with about 3% of people having at least one psychotic episode during their lifetime, most commonly between the ages of 13 and 30 (2). Psychosis is also genetic, and it can appear as a symptom alongside a variety of physical, psychiatric, and drug-induced conditions (2, 1). It should also be noted that psychosis is typically not a permanent state. It occurs in three stages: prodromal, acute, and recovery. People who experience psychosis usually have temporary episodes that can last from days to months, and even during these episodes, people are typically not constantly experiencing delusions or hallucinations. Psychosis is also not a one-size-fits-all experience. Every psychotic person experiences psychosis differently. For a better understanding of psychosis, please check out https://www.earlypsychosis.ca/ or https://medicine.yale.edu/psychiatry/step/psychosis/.

Now, what is psychosis not? Psychosis IS NOT schizophrenia or dissociative identity disorder (DID, or “multiple personality disorder” or “split personality disorder”). Like I stated above, psychosis is a symptom. People with bipolar disorder, depression, anxiety, personality disorders, and other mental health conditions can all experience psychosis as part of their disorder’s symptomatology. The presence of psychosis alone does not automatically indicate a diagnosis of schizophrenia or DID. Additionally, despite the colloquial usage of the word “psychotic” to mean “antisocial”, antisocial behavior (actions that harm others, such as violence) is not a symptom of psychosis. In fact, psychotic people are more likely to be a victim of antisocial behavior instead of a perpetrator (9).

From what we’ve seen in Act 1, I don’t believe that Jinx/Powder had psychotic episodes as a child. However, it’s obvious that the events of episode 3 were traumatic for Jinx, as they would have been for anyone in that situation, especially a child. Multiple studies have shown that psychosis can “emerge as a reaction to trauma” (4), and hallucinations themselves can be associated with childhood trauma (5). Psychotic people can have hallucinations of things associated with their trauma that are different from the “flashbacks” or “reliving” of PTSD (6, 8). Additionally, similar to PTSD, hallucinations can sometimes result from a trigger (7). Triggers can contribute to stress, stress exacerbates symptoms of psychosis, and psychosis can reintroduce triggers through hallucinations. Arcane shows this cycle multiple times throughout Acts 2 and 3, but it begins with Jinx’s encounter with the pink-haired Firelight in episode 4. From that moment on, Jinx begins a downward spiral into a worsening psychotic episode.

Arcane portrays Jinx’s auditory and visual hallucinations as resulting from both triggers (for example, seeing Vi’s face on the pink haired Firelight’s) and the stresses of those triggers and resulting actions (continuing with the previous example, hearing negative remarks from Mylo after her conversation with Silco about the pink haired Firelight). Most of Jinx’s auditory hallucinations are a negative, critical voice, typically Mylo’s (as he was often critical of her from what we saw in Act 1), consistent with a common type of auditory hallucination in those with borderline personality disorder (10). Through audio effects, Arcane shows that these voices are more muffled, like whispers or hearing voices through a wall. This is also common, as even among those who hear voices, the voices are not always clear like portrayed in media. Another type of hallucination Arcane portrayed was feeling of presence, specifically in the scene in episode 6 where Jinx sets off the signal to Vi and feels the presence of Mylo and Claggor at her back. This type of hallucination is more common in those with Parkinson’s, but it can occur in anyone, especially following bereavement (11, 12).

Jinx’s hallucinations aren’t random or utilized randomly as trite plot devices, they aren’t played for comedy or turned into a joke, and while the hallucinations are obviously distressing for Jinx, they aren’t used as a tool for horror. In fact, it is in showing how distressing the hallucinations are for Jinx (as they are for most psychotic people) that encourages the audience to be sympathetic towards her. Auditory hallucinations are scary, annoying, and frustrating, and Arcane did an excellent job of portraying Jinx’s reactions to her hallucinations in these ways, from dismissive hand-waving motions to anxious pacing. Additionally, Arcane manages to portray these visually as well, with “scratchy” and “sketchy” lines overlaid the animation and blurry, film-error like filters, all used to indicate to the audience that Jinx is experiencing an altered state of reality, a state where things aren’t exactly clear. While the sketchy lines are certainly reminiscent of Jinx’s handwriting and art style (perhaps as a nod to the fact that this is all specifically coming from *her* mind), the usage of these sketchy and scratchy lines visually shows the disorganized, anxious, and confused nature of her thought processes.

Jinx’s paranoid delusions don’t begin until episode 6, after Sevika plants the thought in Jinx’s head that Vi and Caitlyn are trying to get her arrested. While hallucinations and delusions can be separate, they can also work together to reinforce each other, as we begin to see in episode 6 with Jinx’s feelings towards Caitlyn. Jinx already distrusts Caitlyn: she’s a topsider, she’s an enforcer, and she has been directing Jinx’s long lost sister’s attention away from her. It’s easy for Jinx to antagonize her, and with the series of misunderstandings in episode 6, her paranoia only builds. This is a key factor of paranoid delusions: even things that may be considered misunderstandings or misinterpretations are “evidence” of the delusion to the person. Hallucinations, such as the one in episode 7 where Jinx sees Caitlyn mocking her, add to this and further corroborate Jinx’s delusion that Caitlyn is out to get her.

The most intense moment of this occurs in episode 8 during Singed’s operation. It’s clear from episode 5 that one of shimmer’s side effects is psychosis, as Vi hallucinates her mother and sister after drinking the potion. In psychotic people, certain drugs can induce and worsen psychosis, and this can be seen during and after the operation as Jinx’s hallucinations get more vivid and her delusions more intense. Jinx hallucinates Vi taking out a gun and shooting her younger self, before that form turns into Caitlyn, mocking Jinx as she holds her and her sister’s beloved bunny toy. Then, Jinx sees Caitlyn is the one performing the painful procedure, and Vi is by her side, encouraging Caitlyn to continue inflicting harm. This is all proof to Jinx that Caitlyn wants to harm her and “steal” Vi’s attention. Jinx’s actions at the end of episode 8 and in episode 9 are a direct result of this thought process.

It’s important to note that to an outside observer, such as the audience or Caitlyn and Vi during the “party” scene, Jinx’s belief that Caitlyn and Vi are trying to harm her is irrefutably false. It’s obvious by Vi’s characterization that she would never do such a thing, and Caitlyn, while untrusting of Jinx, doesn’t want to harm her. Even if someone was able to explain to Jinx that the hallucinations of Caitlyn doing such things never truly occurred, the damning part about psychosis and Jinx’s decreasing insight (being able to tell that you are experiencing symptoms) is that these things actually happened to her. This can be a confusing concept for non-psychotic people, so allow me to break this down.

While the delusions and hallucinations of psychosis are not real, the person experiences them as real events and as such, reacts to them with real emotions. For example, if you found out a loved one has passed away, you would experience a lot of grief and pain. A psychotic person with low insight experiencing a delusion of a loved one passing away is experiencing the exact same level of grief and pain. Then, during the recovery stage when the person is regaining insight, they have to struggle with the doubt of whether or not the person is still alive. The same thing happens in paranoid delusions, only the struggle is typically whether or not the person actually inflicted harm, and whether or not you can trust them again. Even though Vi and Caitlyn did not hurt her, to Jinx they did. Jinx’s pained reaction to this, while greatly intensified by her borderline personality disorder, is understandable considering this. Caitlyn tortured her. Vi betrayed her. This is what is reality to Jinx in the middle of her acute phase, and her actions are her reaction to that reality.

Arcane did an excellent job portraying psychosis. As someone who is very familiar with auditory and visual hallucinations and paranoid delusions, the show portrayed these in a way that was respectful, realistic, and personally relatable. Arcane did not romanticize Jinx’s struggles, nor did it use them for comedy or horror. I’m excited to see what the writers will do with next season, and I hope they are still able to portray Jinx as a complex individual struggling with mental illness, instead of a wacky manic pixie dream girl or a grimdark horror antagonist.

References

1 https://secure.medicalletter.org/w1301c

2 https://www.earlypsychosis.ca

3 https://medicine.yale.edu/psychiatry/step/psychosis/

4 http://www.sygdoms.com/pdf/trauma/7.pdf

5 https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/psychological-medicine/article/abs/childhood-trauma-and-auditory-verbal-hallucinations/BDBF53626FA94620528359EEE87217DB

6 https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fpsyg.2015.01262/full

7 https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0005791609001025

8 https://www.academia.edu/610273/Trauma_and_hallucinatory_experience_in_psychosis?auto=citations&from=cover_page

9 https://www.thelancet.com/journals/lanpub/article/PIIS2468-2667(20)30002-5/fulltext

10 D’Agostino, Alessandra; Rossi Monti, Mario; Starcevic, Vladan (2018). Psychotic symptoms in borderline personality disorder. Current Opinion in Psychiatry, Vol. 32 (Number 1), 22-26. doi:10.1097/YCO.0000000000000462

11 https://www.nature.com/articles/srep38152

12 https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3382202/

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rani-karenita · 2 years

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Thought about arcs in KHR: Daily Life: Was looking for the part where Kyoko ask Hibari to come to boxing tournament but there's none in anime? Also why the popular sport festival isn't animated? Kokuyo: Still my #1 favorite main arc in this anime. Love all the mysteries surrounding the enemy! Varia: Got many spoilers from fanfictions so not really excited except for CEDEF infiltrating Vongola Base, Nono and Iemitsu's talk from the past, and Xanxus vs Tsuna. The last one is totally out of my expectation bcs no one explain it in their fics. Millefiore: THE LONGEST GODDAMN ARC EVER! Even with Arcobaleno and Primo arcs removed from the anime it's still going to be the longest one in KHR (If Simon and Representative Battle are animated I wonder if it's still the longest arc or not). Shoichi best boy and Byakuran looks like a fallen angel (not in a good way). Uni has a good fashion taste she looks cool with Black Spell attire. The part when Tsuna though the Ninth is no longer I- *sobs* Everyone especially Kyoko and Haru have been through so much. Arcobaleno: It's fun and I enjoy it! And I can't bring myself to hate Verde he's too cute! The slight Fon and Hibari's interaction kyaaa~! Primo: Fon is still cute! Everyone's cool! (My favorites are G, Knuckle and Primo) but really wish to know more about them especially Alaudi and Knuckle who only got some lines. The lightning guardian mentoring is my favorite episode, it's always fun and Verde got what he deserve (but he's still cute!)

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sytortuga · 7 months

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Deafening silence (Chapter 2/3)

Warnings: poisoning, general violence, animal attack, animal injury, depictions of sickness, vomiting, hallucinations, permanent nerve damage, permanent consequences on way of life. Some warnings are omitted to avoid spoilers. Proceed with care if any of the above are triggering subjects.

Author's notes: Here's chapter 2 for this fic that was intended as a contribution to @ailesswhumptober. As I already mentioned for chapter 1, this work wouldn't have never happened without @itzagoodthing. Check out the work of this talented writer if you haven't already! 🤩

You may read this chapter in AO3 if you prefer.

Chapter 2/3: The confrontation.

Chapter summary: Din makes it back to the covert. He confines himself to his alcove to try and ride out the effects of inhaling the Divvik's gas. Some misunderstandings won't make things easier with the process.This will take him on to revive some painful moments of his life.

Since the elders had determined that they should only leave the Tribe one at a time, training the foundlings had become one of Paz Vizsla's favorite tasks. Daily, he would gather a group of younglings for lessons. Some had sworn the Creed and wore their helmets, while others didn't, be it for age or lack of fighting skills. But that didn't make any difference. They were all motivated to learn, to grow and become Mandalorians, and that was all Paz needed to know from them. It didn't matter where they came from. They were all destined to become fierce warriors, loyal members of the Tribe.

That morning he was making the children work on close combat and he was teaching on the use of the shield and vibroblade.

"When you're deep in the fight, it will occur that you'll need to rely on close range combat skills. In these situations, more than ever, using body, mind and heart, in synchrony and balance, becomes essential. What I mean is that in close combat, physical condition is of essence. But if not used with concentration, dedication, and strict discipline, a fighter cannot be expected to win."

Paz watched another foundling join the group as he talked. Without giving it more relevance, he continued. "In the same manner, an intelligent and patient warrior will not succeed without strength and speed. Melee weapons should be on you at all times, regardless of your weapon of choice. It will save your life more times than you'll imagine. Now, when dealing with close range combat, one thing you should always… "

Paz interrupted his speech when the foundling who had entered the training room last, was whispering something to other foundlings. Annoyed, and before he could react, another tribe member came into the room and approached Paz.

"Paz," the other Mandalorian whispered in the infantryman's ear. "It's the beroya. He just came back but he's returned empty handed. No rewards and none of the supplies were required. Everyone is talking about it," he continued. "Walked down the main corridor, swaying and bumped into me. He seemed drunk, if you ask me. He didn't even bother answering when I asked if he needed any help. Without any word, he just disappeared down the tunnels, towards his quarters."

Lost in his thoughts, the heavy infantry Mandalorian fixed his gaze downwards, pondering on his brother's words.

"You know Djarin best, Paz. I thought you should know."

"Stay with the foundlings," Paz said. "I'll go check on him."

With this, the infantryman took his leave, determined to understand what was going on. He navigated the maze of tunnels towards the hunter's alcove, finding other vode whispering among them. That behavior didn't sound like Djarin. He also knew him well enough to know that he would have never come back to the covert empty handed.

Arriving at the hunter's appointed quarters, Paz found the curtain separating the alcove from the corridor was drawn closed, indicating, as it was customary, that someone was inside.

"Beroya, are you in there?"

Paz got no response. Knowing that Din must be inside, he hollored,"Hey, Djarin!"

Again, no response, and Paz felt himself quickly losing patience. After waiting what he considered enough time for Din to put on his helmet and come out, he pulled open the alcove's curtain. Paz found Din laying on his cot, immobile.

"At least he's spared me the drama of finding him helmetless,'' he murmured to himself as he stepped into the alcove. The fact that Din hadn't even noticed that he had stepped into the small room had Paz suddenly worried. He looked around and didn't see anything out of the ordinary. He didn't see any obvious injuries on the man, no apparent blood or damage to his armor. He then shoved the Mandalorian's feet off the bed. He had clearly caught Din by complete surprise, as the man jumped awake.

"What the hell, runt?” Paz balked. “What's up with you?"

Just slightly raised from the bed, laying on his right side, Din looked at him in silence.

"Everyone is talking about your entrance back there. Care to explain what is going on?"

Din seemed completely oblivious to what Paz was saying.

"Least you can do is answer when you're being talked to!" said Paz. "Come on," he continued, gesturing for him to get up.

The way Din continued to lay there, not making an effort to get to his feet made Paz snap.

"Get up!" Paz finally said as he grabbed the smaller Mandalorian by the collar of his flight suit, forcing him to stand up.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?" Paz noticed the other man could hardly keep his balance.

"Speak, di'kut!" said Paz, giving Din's shoulder a shove.

To Paz's surprise, that soft move of aggression had Din swaying. Instinctively, he grabbed Din by his left arm to prevent him from falling. He then noticed how Din's left arm was floppy under his grip, and was solely relying on his right leg to keep himself upright.

"Are you injured, Beroya?" Paz said, now getting worried again that there was indeed something wrong with his brother. The large Mandalorian bent, aiming to find Din's gaze through the visor.

Din jerked away from Paz and had just enough time to turn around. Clumsily falling on his knees against the far end of his alcove, he lifted his helmet enough to empty the contents of his stomach.

"Is it possible?" Paz asked, incredulous. "Would you spend credits to get yourself drunk and then have the courage to come back to us empty handed?"

Watching Din continue to retch, Paz no longer expected an answer from the other Mandalorian.

"I understand your mentor's death is still recent, and I know how important he was to you, how much he helped you since your cabur marched away.” Paz continued. “But you need to get back on your feet. Deep inside you must know it wasn't your fault."

Pausing, Paz looked down at his brother. “Look, I get it. I can only imagine the pressure you must be under. Having been appointed Beroya, especially e these trying times, it must be challenging. Honestly I'm not sure I'd be able to do what you do. The pressure to provide, spending all that time alone in space, away from the Tribe. But there used to be a time where we would confide in each other. You needn't be alone.”

The other Mandalorian gave still no sign of acknowledging him, and Paz said, "You know I can help, just like when you were brought to us."

Still silent, Din panted as he remained on his knees with his back turned to Paz.

"I don't know you anymore, Djarin. What made you become… this?" Paz continued, but the sight before him just ended up mading Paz burst out in anger.

"DANK FERRICK, DJARIN! JUST SAY SOMETHING!"

Din remained silent and looked like he was trying to look around while slowly getting back to his feet.

"Fine. You want to be alone? Then be alone." Frustrated, Paz kicked him in the side, sending him clattering into the wall of the alcove before falling back to the ground, unconscious. Paz took a moment to look at Din, laying ungracefully next to a pool of his own vomit, passed out from inebriation.

Disgusted, he stormed out.

—

Din woke up to someone shoving his feet off his bed. Cracking his eyes open, he looked up to see a blurry blue-clad Mandalorian. He didn’t need to see any more to know it was his old training instructor, Olis, at the Fighting Corps, standing there looking down on him. Din felt confused. Olis had died five years before. His foggy mind couldn’t work out what was going on, but he couldn’t deny that the instructor was standing next to his cot. And he knew what that meant. Training time. Din felt so tired, he didn't think he could get up. But he knew he needed to get on his feet.

Midnight training sessions were common within the Fighting Corps. They were used to condition warriors to operate with little rest, and taught to stay alert whenever they could afford resting during a mission. He needed to train his body to make small tactical naps whenever possible, despite the conditions.

It was essential to stay alive in the process while avoiding going beyond that threshold where body and mind would no longer properly function. He already knew by experience that weakness and hallucinations would set in when he didn’t get enough sleep, endangering not only himself but his brothers and sisters on the mission. But today he felt so tired. It wasn't the first time. At 12 years of age, it wasn't the first time he thought to himself that he couldn't possibly get up, and used the momentum of his feet being shoved off the bed to lean on his right side, a significant step forward in reaching verticality. But everything changed when Olis made him stand up by grabbing him by his suit's collar.

Even though his feet were on the ground, Din felt himself sway. His heart skipped a beat when he realized the effort it took him to not fall. There was something wrong with him. He was exhausted, yes. His muscles ached and he couldn't find the strength to keep his eyes open. All that he was used to, it wasn't anything he hadn't experienced before. But not being capable of properly standing was not normal, and that worried him.

Din looked back at the blue Mandalorian trying to find some answers. Could this be part of the training? Had he been drugged? But all he could gather was the aggressiveness in his teacher's posture, body language telling him he wasn't happy. But why wasn't he saying anything?

Unexpectedly, Olis shoved Din's shoulder. The small action made Din’s head turn. Suddenly feeling nauseous, he barely had time to turn around. Falling on his knees, he lifted up his helmet and spilled the contents of his stomach on the floor. With his heart suddenly pounding faster, Din started to get nervous. He couldn't understand what was happening. He had never felt like this during sleep deprivation training. He was exhausted, yes. Nauseous? Occasionally, when he trained or worked past rest threshold. But never to the point of losing his food. Was he sick?

He lowered his helmet back in place and tried to make out his surroundings. Alarmed, he realized he wasn't in the apprentices' quarters anymore. He was in his own private quarters. He knew that, but he also knew apprentices didn't have private alcoves. A sensation of panic started to overwhelm him. Confused, he looked up to find Olis gone. Similar blue armor, but this was a much wider man.

Paz.

He was towering over him. He wanted so desperately to ask Paz for help. He had always been one to help Din through training, but their relationship had degraded during the last few years. He knew Paz disapproved of some of his merc jobs and the team he had joined, but he knew the heavy infantry Mandalorian would not deny him help should he ask for it. Trying to get in control of his emotions, he took a couple of deep breaths and tried standing. But before he could get very far, he felt himself hit the wall and Din's world went black.

—

Din woke up to his head pounding. Incapable of finding the strength to open his eyes, he tried to listen to his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was. But the strong ringing in his ears made it impossible. The explosions that detonated around him as he ran with his parents across their hometown, still made his ears hurt. He just laid there, on his side, on the ground. He felt the cold surface taking the little body heat that he seemed to have left.

For an unknown time that’s all he could do. He could feel the pounding of footsteps, reverberating on the ground. Strong footsteps. The battle droids had killed most of the people he had ever known. Probably also his parents, and now they were coming to finish him as well. He pressed his eyes closed even harder, waiting for the droids to open the hatch to the bunker his parents had hidden him in. He knew a droid eventually found him, but the droid never came.

Eyes still tightly shut, he continued feeling the vibrations of footsteps on the ground. But these were now lighter, and more numerous. He knew where he was. That small vent line in the covert he liked to hide in when emotions became overwhelming. Like now. Losing his cabur had become a traumatic time for him. Anger filled his heart. Anger against whomever or whatever had decided he deserved to lose his parents and his rescuer shortly after. There was no possible way he could forgive this, and even though he knew it was nobody's fault, he felt ok hating everybody for it.

He felt the footsteps of the other Mandalorians looking for him. But he knew that only his cabur would be able to find him, just like he found him in that bunker. But his cabur wasn't there any more. And he knew he would be safe to process his emotions in privacy. He just wanted to be alone.

More time passed and eventually he managed to open his eyes. He was indeed laying on the ground of what he could tell was his sleeping quarters at the covert. He was alone, that much he could tell. He tried getting up, but he couldn’t make his arms or legs move, making him panic. The strong steps he could feel pounding on the ground must be those of his brothers and sisters. He tried speaking, calling out for help. Being in the covert, surely someone should be able to hear him. But that seemed to be harder than he thought. No sound came out of his mouth, although he couldn't be sure it was just that he didn’t hear it with the strong ringing in his ears.

A feeling of loneliness invaded him. He rarely felt lonely while in the Razor Crest, among the stars, crossing the galaxy over and over hunting for the most profitable bounties to provide for his tribe. But there, laying in his quarters, probably not far from many of the Mandalorians he provided for, he felt lonely. Lonely and scared. Scared that whatever had happened to him would be his end.

—

Din didn't recall having closed his eyes but the difficulty in breathing woke him up. The paralysis was probably now spreading and making it harder to breathe. No, that wasn't it. Because he looked down on himself to realize he was pinned down by an enormous slab of concrete wall laying on his chest. He felt himself starting to hyperventilate, making the task of breathing more difficult. In desperation to find help, he looked around, but found only destruction: Buildings reduced to ruins, some of them on fire. Smoke invaded the air around him, not making it any easier for him to draw a breath. Bodies, Mandalorian and Imperial alike, were scattered for as far as he could see.

He closed his eyes, trying hard to control his breathing. His chest felt like it was being crushed under his armor, but he concentrated on decreasing his ventilation rate and getting more meaningful breaths. He knew he would quickly pass out if he didn't. He was startled to see someone running between the ruins, screaming his name. But it was so hard to breathe, his vision started slowly to fade. He put all his strength in getting air in his lungs. A large blue blurr was moving towards him. When they finally became closer, Din realized who it was.

"Din! Thank the Manda I found you," he heard a younger Paz say.

The relief of seeing his brother broke all the progress Din had made at keeping his breathing under control. He felt overwhelmed by the emotions.

"Hey, Din. Hey! Look at me," he heard the big Mandalorian say as he grabbed Din's helmet to make him look at him.

But all Din could think about was how he couldn't breathe. He was trying hard, he was desperate to fill his lungs with air, but it was getting increasingly difficult. Prey to his fears, his breathing was now just a very superficial panting.

"DJARIN! Slow down, vod. I'm with you. You're not alone," Paz reassured him. "I'm going to get you out of there ok? But you need to calm down. Controlled breaths. In and out."

Din once more closed his eyes and focused on Paz's words: "In … and out…, in… and out…" he heard. "That's it, brother. Good job."

Paz disappeared from his line of view only to quickly return. "I'm going to try and move the slab. You think you can get out of there on your own if I lift it enough?"

Din couldn't be sure, he barely felt anything below the point where the concrete pinned him to the ground. He looked around as if expecting someone else to come and help.

"There's nobody left, vod." Paz explained, reading Din's mind. "The last evac transport left the moon a while ago."

"You stayed…"

"I've known you since you arrived at the covert, Djarin. I know you're hard to kill," the infantryman chuckled. "I was not ready to leave you alone and dying in this karkin' mess."

Tears welled up in Din's eyes, but Paz didn't give him a chance to dwell on the emotion, asking, "So, ready?"

They both knew that if they wanted to make it out alive, he'd need to get out by himself. The big blue Mandalorian got up, and without any further comment, he took his blaster cannon and prepared to use it as a lever to move the concrete slab.

"Din, are you ready?"

As Din nodded, Paz put all his strength at lifting the slab. Din grunted in pain as he felt the pressure in his chest slowly decrease. Feeling he was nearly free, he started pushing with his elbows to crawl from under the concrete block. He had barely moved some centimeters when the cannon lost grip, making the weight fall violently back on Din's chest. He didn't have the time to scream with pain before this world went black.

Din woke to the smell of smoke and burnt skin. Paz was using the force of his jetpack to lift up the concrete wall that was pinning him to the ground. Out of sheer stubbornness and blunt force, his brother managed to displace the slab, setting him free. The fire from the jetpack's exhaust filled Din's lungs with smoke, not helping him with the difficult task of breathing. The fire also caught his flightsuit, reaching and burning the skin of his chest. The pure agony made him scream.

—-

When he next opened his eyes, he was expecting to see Paz, looking triumphantly down on him before he helped him get to safety, out of the Purge's battlefield. At least, he knew that was how it actually happened. But no, he was alone. Very far from Concordia. On Nevarro, laying on the ground of what his covert had determined to be his alcove. He could barely move anymore, the paralysis fully set. He was barely capable of looking down on himself to see his beskar chestplate slightly smoking. The AED system integrated in his armor had activated, and that would only happen should the biomonitors indicate the absence of a sinus rhythm. His heart had stopped. But he had no more energy to fight whatever he had inhaled back at Nirauan. Breathing was already difficult enough.

Feeling cold and lonely, he gave in and prepared to join the Manda, or whatever, if any, karking thing there was after this life.

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