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yandereaffections · 1 year

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Marvel Masterlist

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Steve Rogers

Delusional Steve

Pregnant S/o

Single Parent S/o

Headcannons

Tony Stark vs Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes vs Steve Rogers

Touchy with friends S/o

How Steve spoils S/o

Amnesiac S/o

Nuclear Apocalypse

Killer Steve

Werewolf Steve

Avenger S/o

Rebellious S/o

Steve finding S/o after running away with another man

Hearing S/o sing

S/os friend helping them Escape

Trying to break up with him

S/o goes missing

Steve protecting Villain S/o

Famous S/o

Delusional 50s Fantasy

Clinging onto S/o who doesn’t like being touched

Hospitalized S/o

S/o Framed into Execution

Living in the 40s with S/o

S/o who can die from pregnancy

Bucky/Steve sharing S/o

S/o who is already dating

Insecure S/o

Professor Steve dating College student S/o

necromancer S/o

Haunted House w/ Steve and Bucky

Werewolf Vampire Hybrid Steve

Alien S/o hiding parts of themselves

Ghost Steve communicating through Ouija Board

Figuring out S/os a Lizard human hybrid

S/o suffering from constant headaches

Someone attempting to drug S/o

Model S/o

At a BLM Protest

House spouse S/o

Easily scared S/o who loves horror movies

Doing his makeup when hes asleep

Platonic relationship with his daughter

S/o spending more time with bucky and sam

Magical girl hero S/o

S/o being on team Iron man during civil war

Bucky Barnes

Headcannons

Winning you over

Bucky Barnes vs Natasha Romanoff

S/o that loves their Stalker

Bucky Barnes vs Steve Rogers

Winter Solider Falling for a Civilian

Gore + Torture TW

Hunted Down

Trick or Treating w/ Bucky

Perusing Dating after Hydra

S/o who is affectionate towards friends

Bucky as a Parent

Prioritizing your child over him

Bucky being in college while S/os still in HS

Bucky w/ Daughter, platonic

S/o w/ cystic fibrosis

S/o who is scared of Bucky

Shoving Buckys head into your chest when angry

King Bucky

Soulmate AU

Crush with a shit boyfriend

S/o that loves pampering Bucky

Running away cause Someone broke in

Running away to the Police

Steve/Bucky sharing S/o

Recently freed Bucky taking refuge with you

Cuddlebug S/o

Pro baker S/o

kpop fan Dancer S/o

Halloween Date

Yandere Letter

Haunted House w/ Steve and Bucky

Shy S/o

Werewolf S/o

Witch S/o accidentally turning herself into a cat

Oblivious S/o

Darlings scared of bugs

Petite S/o

Artistic s/o

Getting a handmade blanket from S/o

S/o insecure about their high pitched voice

S/o whos always tired

Treating his wounds

Torture

Touch starved S/o that doesnt know how to show affection

S/o drools in their sleep

Air head S/o

Darling who enjoys being taken care of

S/o whos kidnapped by random people

Fluff Headcannons

“it feels like home when im with you”

S/o who was verbally abused as a kid, made to believe youll never be loved

Darling who has shit friends

Hydra S/o who tries to brainwash him again

S/o who jokes around when nervous

S/o that likes to be carried by his metal arm

S/o with a regular prosthetic arm

S/o got injured trying to escape

General protective HC

Stephen Strange

Using his powers to get his S/o

Chasing S/o down

Insecure S/o

Single Parent S/o

Apprentice S/o

Jealous of his Cloak

Using his powers on his Dead S/o

Kidnapping S/o

Yandere Cloak

“Be good for me this time. I don’t want to see you cry again.”

Jealous

Patient S/o

Tony Stark vs Stephen Strange

Taking their S/o away from their abusive family

S/o with a flat chest

Red string of fate AU

S/o with PTSD

Oblivious S/o

Apprentice S/o getting hurt

Poly Naga Stephen + Tony

Cannibal S/o

Accident Prone S/o

Comforting Anxious S/o

Watching S/o sleep

S/o getting hurt during a city attack

Healer S/o distrusting him cause they think hes using them

S/o favoring his cape as a coping mechanism

Asexual S/o

Darling with narcolepsy and chronic pain

S/o is as good and talented as him

Sneaking out only to come back with puppies

S/o who has bad anxiety attacks

Using his cape to find S/o who sleeps in odd places

Chaotic s/o

Quiet s/o playing ACNH

S/os first time seeing snow

S/o whose ok with being kidnapped as long as they can go to amusement parks

Kidnapped S/o keeps passing out due to fear

S/o wanting to dance in the rain

S/o has the power to teleport

Demon S/o

Thor Odison

Headcannons

NS FW headcannons

Loki vs Thor

Loki vs Thor Preference

Stronger than Thor thinks S/o

Teaching Thor about Halloween

Finding Puppies

Loki Odison

Headcannons

Loki vs Thor

Loki vs Thor Preference

S/o in arranged marriage

Using a Love Potion on his S/o

Naga Loki

Affectionate S/o

Teasing his S/o

Valentines Day

S/o who can sing

Insecure S/o who keeps rejecting him

S/os Suicide TW

Brutally taking his Soul mate

Supportive S/o

Harassed S/o

Possessive S/o

Liking his Hair touched by S/o

Halloween Date

Someone cat calling his Darling

Drunk S/o

Asexual s/o

S/o whos best friends with Tony

Depressed S/o

Magica girl S/o

Vampire loki hunting down a s/o whos having fun with it

Platonic yandere HC

T’Challa

Headcannons

T’challa Vs Erik

S/o getting Married to someone else after he gets Snapped

Tony Stark

Headcannons

“I sent you more gifts! do you like them?!

NS FW headcannons

Sugar Daddy

S/o getting attention to the constant attention he attracts

Tony Stark vs Steve Rogers

Cold in Public yet Cuddly in Private

Pushover S/o

Tsundere S/o

Jealous of the amount of attention Steves giving S/o

The Purge

Plus size Lingerie model S/o

“How else would they know you belonged to me?”

“its like you were made for me”

S/o who doesnt mind his Yandere tendencies

Jealous Tony

Finding a kitten

Shy/Book-wormy S/o

Valentines Day

Stephen Strange vs Tony Stark

S/os first relationship

Nerdy S/o

Poor yet incredibly Sweet S/o

S/o not wanting anything to do with Tony

Touchy S/o Hiding behind him

Zombie Apocalypse

Sugar Daddy to a Male College student S/o

Single Parent S/o

Learning S/o has Terminal Heart Cancer

S/o with a Prosthetic Leg

Cute S/o that listens to Death Metal

Drawing Tony in a maid outfit

Blind S/o

Vampire S/o

S/o who shuts down after kidnapping

Yandere S/o protecting their Love interest

Punishing S/o who tried to escape

Artist S/o

S/o who can see ghosts

Suicidal S/o TW

“Hey demons its ya boy”

Making Halloween costumes

Poly Naga Stephen+Tony

Tonys Type

Hunted Down

S/o having a delayed reaction to being Kidnapped

Injured S/o

S/o being hit on by Quentin Beck

Cyber stalking

S/os in the military

Crush thinking his Flirts are only jokes

Losing S/o to the Snap

Comforting S/o after a bad day

Strong Kick ass S/o

Not knowing S/o immortal, watching them get stabbed

S/o loving DIY stuff

Finding out S/o been begging to Jarvis to help them escape

S/o secretly making robo stuff

S/o having inhuman strength

terrorist S/o

S/o calling ptsd “spicy nostalgia”

Tonys s/o phasing through security after being kidnapped

Life Threatening Situation

Male S/o is a single parent

Modest S/o wont let him spoil them

S/o in a depressive episode

What kind of gifts does he buy his darling

How he shows affection

dealing with competing suitors

Proposal HC

Vampire Tony Hunted down

Incubus Tony

Assassin S/o

Natasha Romanoff

Headcannons

Dealing with competition

Wanda vs Natasha

Bucky vs Natasha

S/o whos not into girls

Hunted Down

S/o Disobeying

Avenger S/o

Choosing S/os Clothes

Shy s/o

Wanda Maximoff

Wanda vs Natasha

Headcannons

Bisexual S/o

Vampire Wanda

ADHD & Autistic S/o

Okoye

Headcannons

S/o who runs away

Nick Fury

Headcannons

Shy and Quiet S/o

Bruce Banner

Being able to control his emotions

Headcannons

Hela Odison

Headcannons

Carol Danvers-

headcannons

Powerful S/o

Single parent s/o

Oblivious S/o

Oblivious S/o is getting flirted with

Vision

Hunted down

Doc Oc

Parental/Platonic HC

Steve Rodgers

NS FW HC

Cockwarming

Vocal Steve

Turned on during a mission

College Virgin S/o slightly

Breeding HC

Femdom

Bucky Barnes

Stealing S/os underwear

Another Underwear Stealing

NS FW alphabet

NS FW Headcannons

Sexually frustrated Bucky

Getting Caught

Dominate Bucky

Sitting on his face

Stephen Strange

NS FW headcannons

Thor

Werewolf Thors Heat

Loki

NS FW headcannons

NS FW alphabet

Orgasm denial + Aphrodisiac

Tony Stark

NS FW Alphabet

S/o has a high Sex Drive

S/os First Time

Corruption

NON-CON Bdsm TW

Submissive tony

Natasha

“You’re such a pretty little thing tied up like that”

NS FW headcannons

Wanda

NS FW headcannons

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 4 months

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Thranduil and Josie Pt. 166- Mouse Trap

Summary: Dr. Legolas Greenleaf is in the house. An impaired Josie remembers and reveals important info. Bash and Charles enter Dorwinion city. Upsetting info comes to Charles' attention and then more comes to light as a group unites. Cat and mouse anyone?

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, graphic depictions, mild violence, mentions of rape

Chapter characters: Josie, Legolas, Merlin, Bash, Charles, Delphine, Nun, Haldir, Rumil, Rahl

Chapter word count: 5,216

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

After an hour long session of your palm being stitched up by an elf who's only skills of proficiency were archery, swordsmanship and flinging himself from tree to tree, you were well under the influence of Dorwinion's wicked whiskey to kill the pain.

"I am finished my lady." Legolas exhaled in relief as he bandaged your hand, which you could have sworn he did not breathe the entire time.

"Now, Josie...do you want to tell me how this deep cut really occurred? This is not the markings of being cut by glass, which the healing water would have cured, but Lola told me it burned you."

"Oh sweet Leggy...you're too smart for your own britches...or should I say stitches??" you giggled with a snort, which brought Legolas' brow to an astounded arch.

A soft amused grin finally formed on his thin lips. "And you my lady, have had enough of the golden giggle juice."

His jestful remark had you snorting again. "And you're funny too."

"Well, there's nothing funny about this wound or finding you unconscious on the castle floor....or your spiteful words earlier this night."

"Well..." you frowned, pouting out your bottom lip. "That's all Stephy's fault..kind of...ok not really...it's the poison in my blood that his wicked twin put there by his beastly claws!"

Now Legolas' brow arched again as the other one furrowed. "Alright, maybe you should just rest for now and..."

"What? You do not believe me?? Tell me Leggo...did you or my Kingly King of all Kings know that Narcisse, well, actually Rahl, can turn onto a giant fucking cat?? Oh wait...BOTH of them can...one white as snow, one black as charcoal, but Stephy, he's the good witch and Rahl, he's the wicked witch of the west, only he's not a girl and definitely not green and ugly like her. Anywhooo, he freaking cut my hand when he shifted. I was standing too close."

"Josie...you have been seeing things that are not there. This happened tonight on the patio. You said Narcisse was there, but he was on the shoreline remember? And..I also found you talking to a wall."

"Ohhh, yes! There..there was a little girl...Rosie! I'm supposed to find her daddy. But noooo, that was not Narcisse, that was Rahlllll. He was a huuuuge raptor and flew down from the moon, morphing into a man wearing the devil's blood red robe with Stephane's face, minus the horns and pitchfork, and he walked right through me!! Come on Lego..las! I know what you and Thranduil can change into. The white hart. I saw you in Rivendell remember?? And I saw Thranduil in the forest only weeks ago, although that was just his ghost... so stop acting like it's impossible and that I am just drunk and delusional! And you yourself just said this cut did not happen on glass! Why do you think Mirkwood's water burns it?"

Legolas realized you were actually right as he sighed, and then his mind drifted to his father, knowing that was not a ghost that you saw whatsoever.

"I..I believe you. All things are possible with magic. As far as Narcisse, or this Rahl? I am not aware of it...but, possibly my father knew. What didn't he know?"

"That is true....but Rahl..he was brought back by Jareth. He's not even real. He's something Stephane's mind created long ago to protect himself from a terrible trauma inflicted by his father. Surely you knew him?? Didn't Thranduil trade with him as well when the Dorwinion King was alive?"

"Yes. He was quite wicked, just like the whiskey you have devoured."

"I fought Rahl tonight. Blade to blade. He was taking advantage of Claude. I saw her before I got to his chambers and she told me what he tried to do. You said that Lola saw Stephane kissing her, but that was not him Legolas."

"You fought Narcisse with a sword???"

"No! Rahl! but...I..I don't remember what happened after that...I woke up here...and...oh my god, my dream! There was a magic elf statue. It was Thranduil! and the bottom, it said...."

Legolas swiftly stood with gaping moonstones peering down at you.

"Gúl -o Aran Thranduil. Ech- a ithil sarn iest no i clair de lune." Legolas whispered.

You sat right up, also with gaping eyes as you too, whispered.

"Magic King Thranduil. Make a moonstone wish under the moonlight. Legolas?? You mean it is real???"

He slowly sat back down with a stiffened stance. "It is. My grandmother carved it and as she did so, her magic was carved into it. It was lost years ago during my grandfather's reign. You..you dreamt of this..where did you see it??"

"Peter's cabin. I...I was there again..and...I can't believe this. How could I have forgotten?? It..it was Christmas and Peter brought me this box of mostly junk, claiming he got the stuff at a thrift shop in Northern New Zealand. He said some gypsy like lady said it granted wishes and gave it to him for free, that the price was in the wishes. But then the asshole took it from me when I...oh my god, that came true!!"

"What came true??"

"I..I wished out loud in anger, right in front of Peter, for him to be devoured by a giant spider in the forest and that happened Legolas, in Mordor!! And then, he got angry and wished to come back from the dead and haunt me and...now he has by Jareth's doing. I just know he's out there! I saw him...a vision of him at my birthday party during a palm reading and he told me he was coming for me!!"

You began to hyperventilate as you sobbed and Legolas quickly pulled you into his arms.

"Never. Never will I let him harm you. Do not cry. Josie...I am sorry I was not here for your birthday. I am so sorry I left you. I will get you a proper gift someday soon."

You sniffled and hiccupped into hair, breathing in his calming tree leaf scent.

"No, I am the one who's sorry. I said horrible things to you tonight. You are the gift Legolas, wrapped beautifully with your giant big bow."

The Prince softly smiled at your double meaning as he tightened his embrace with closed eyes. "Happy birthday my lady."

"LEGOLAS!!" you shouted and pushed out of his arms, accidentally waking Leean.

"I know where the amethyst pendant is!!! I dreamt of it too."

"One of the six needed? Where is it?"

"Yes! At the cabin. I..it...it was Sarah's, hidden among some of her things I kept...but..I don't understand why she would have it? I...I've even dreamt of it before. Her mother, Jocelyn, told me to find Sarah and then put it on me and then I was sucked into some kind of portal. Leggy, we have to go there!"

You jumped out of bed and frantically began rummaging through your clothes to change as Legolas picked Leean up and tried to talk some sense into you.

"We cannot go there tonight or any night, for many reasons Josie. Most importantly, Harker is out there and the dead too. Also, that cabin would take days upon days of travel from where we are. We would be lucky to arrive before the solstice."

"Well we have to do something Legolas, especially while my mind is clear. I don't know what's happening to me with all these hallucinations and the way I have been acting. Look how I treated you and what I said about Lola...Lola? Where...where is she?? I need to speak to her about...something."

That something being about Rahl being her father.

"Out for a walk. I too...said some unpleasant, but warranted things to her."

"What??"

"Lola is of no matter at this time. You are. Your mind is not clear as you said. We must find a way to heal you, but first, you must sleep. We can discuss this further come the morning."

The morning that Legolas dreaded, for it was the deadline that his father had given him to begin the journey back to his halls with you and Leeanduil or Thranduil was going to come and reclaim you both himself, bringing his elven army with him that would incite a war. The Prince would have to decide the wiser option, for both scenarios could carry deadly consequences, the latter being of the higher risk and either would be a very heartbreaking outcome for you to see your King who wasn't your King at all. Should he just tell you the truth and let you decide? That was an immediate hard no for Legolas considering your state of mind.

"Oh god...Bash. Yes, I forgot...he told me there's a witch doctor in the city who can do so and I saw him leave tonight with Charles to go find her. Ok, let me think."

Still tipsy, you paced about as Leean quietly watched you from her brother's arms.

"If only Garrett were here. He could go and get it in only a few hours time...or even my crow..if I even knew where either of them were, but then again, Garrett is off with Kate somewhere probably getting it on. That jerk has my moonstone that I told him to hide. We need that now too. OR...I could try and summon the eagles!!!"

"Alright, slow down. The vampire Kate that my father beheaded?"

"Yep! I saw them, in the mirror, there in the trash. Garrett told me himself he had chosen to be with her again...but...it can't be true, it just can't be."

"Maybe it was another hallucination?" Legolas suggested as his eyes wandered to the trash to view the pulverized mirror.

"No. This happened before I was scratched. It...it must be real then. Why? Why would he do this to me?"

You turned to conceal your eyes that burned of tears over the vampire you secretly and deeply loved and then the room began to spin.

"I...I feel sick." you muttered and ran to the bathroom to rid of the wicked whiskey in your stomach.

Legolas laid his sister back down and kissed her tiny fingers, then he came to you, holding your hair back as your other beloved elves, Haldir and Thranduil, had done.

Once you were finished, you began to teeter from side to side.

"I've got you."

Legolas swooped you back up in his arms and carried you once more to tuck you in for the night and within seconds of Legolas patting your forehead again with the medicinal cloth, you were out.

As he then made his way to feed Leean, Legolas' ears twitched at the scratching and patting noise coming from the door. One of his white knives were swiftly drawn as he moved with great stealth towards the sound.

"Speak your identity!" he firmly commanded.

"Mrrrrow." sounded at the base of the door, drawing Legolas' astonished eyes downward with furrowed brows.

Upon swinging the door open, in strutted Merlin with his bushy tail straight in the air and greeted the elf with a single figure eight sway around and through his legs, then the purring Maine Coon of long lustrous black and gray fur, leaped upon the bed and curled up beside you.

Legolas offered the Kingly feline a soft grin as he closed and locked the door.

"Alright. I suppose you can stay...as if my approval is needed for that of an entitled cat."

Merlin's round cerulean eyes twinkled of magic, stunning the Prince where he stood and then the giant royal beauty lowered his lids to slits and went to sleep.

Bash and Charles disembarked the ferry to Dorwinion city while the small squad of warlock guards that tagged along for extra safety measures held back to not alarm the locals. To begin their search for the infamous lady witch doctor, they chose the nearest tavern for a brief rest and a much needed drink, not so much out of thirst on the bitterly cold winter's night created by the Elvenking's earthly wrath, but out of anxiety.

"Bash, I have been thinking on the way here. Is this really the only option? You know as well as anyone that black magic is not to be toyed with and Delphine is notorious for such acts. Look what happened to my mother and sister for tempting fate. Taking anything from a devil or a witch most always comes with a price. Can she even be trusted?" Charles asked, sipping his wicked ale as his nerves were now getting the better of him.

"Your mother was already evil and deserved her fate which was torture too kind if you ask me. Without the help of your father, this is the only known option and yes, I trust Delphine. This is what she does."

"But Josie is not evil. She is good and kind."

"She won't be for long if she is not cleansed of Rahl's venom. Any repercussions of the healing far outweighs what she will become....wicked like Rahl himself. Drink up, but carefully. We must keep our wits about us."

"So...Is it true?" the young warlock asked of his confused uncle after a moment of silence.

"Is what true?"

"The King of Mirkwood. He lives and caused the destruction this night?"

"No dear nephew. That was the Elvenking."

In that eerie moment of truth, a city guard approached the duo with discerning eyes.

"Sebastian Narcisse. What brings you and the young Prince to the city on a cold, dark and dangerous night? Surely it's not solely for our Lord's crafted ale that is quite plentiful in his kingdom. Is this in relation to the evening's earthly event?"

"It is one reason yes, to ensure our people are well and to assess the damage. Are there any wounded or fatalities?"

"No deaths reported, but there have been some minor injuries from shaken structures. Is all well at the castle? I would have expected Lord Narcisse to have accompanied you."

"My brother is tending to matters there, so we have come in his place. We are also looking for others. Have you happened to cross paths with Haldir of Lorien? Two men and a dwarf had come here as well in their own search for him."

"Ahh yes. The elven Marchwarden. I saw him not long ago on the docks with his brothers and the others you speak of, the Ranger, the Bowman and the dwarf. They were ready to depart when the violent rumble occurred. I am not sure of their whereabouts now, for the waters were too treacherous for the ferry to transport at the time."

"There is one other we seek. One all here know of."

Bash moved in closer and whispered to not be heard by others. "Delphine."

The man immediately stiffened up. "Why on earth would you seek the wicked??"

"She is not wicked, only perceived to be. There is one who desperately needs her help."

"A perception well deserved. Her help will be costly. You know this, for your brother does not permit black magic of any kind. It is considered a crime as you also know which is why she hides. I am sure you recall the village near here. The boy she healed of the black plague became blind and the farm animals fell ill with disease solely from her presence."

"His blindness was caused by the disease. The animals suffered from it too."

"Witches leave a trail of evil. Birds fall from the sky when they are near." the man argued as Bash recalled the pile of dead blackbirds on his terrace.

"Not all witches. Only wicked ones. I would not seek her if I believed her wicked. What happened to her was not her fault. Much more wicked this way comes. She is the least of anyone's worries. Now, do you know of her whereabouts?"

"Harker was indeed her fault. No one gives something to a warlock of evil without a price. It is my understanding that the witch is in God's hands now. From what we have been informed of here, Harker is in the area and has killed some of your men. He is no different from her. She probably assisted him."

"He is and has done as you heard. But as far as Delphine, you know not what you speak of. What she gave was not freely given and she would not aid him in any manner. I thank you for the information. We must be on our way now. Charles, come!"

Bash and Charles left and headed down the long winding docks that encased the colossal city that never sleeps, in hopes of finding Haldir and the others to bring them and the Marchwarden back to the castle, going against Narcisse's banishment of the elf. Bash knew they would be needed for the impending winter war and he knew you needed Haldir. He also had figured out where Delphine was.

"Bash...what did Delphine give Harker??" Charles soon asked with a curious brow.

As Bash continued his hefty strides, he glanced at Charles.

"Lola."

Charles halted his steps as Bash carried on around the corner.

"What?? Wait! Where are we going??"

"Guards!" Bash called to them as they stood at the boarding port. "Follow me."

"My lord. We were informed by the boatman that another ferry had taken Haldir and the others across the bay just before we arrived."

"Then we must hurry. Let's go!!"

"Bash!" Charles angrily shouted. "WHERE are we going??

"The nunnery." he huffed as his fast strides turned into a gallop.

Charles' brows scrunched in confusion over his crinkled nose.

"Church?? We are going to...church???"

"Please. No more. I beg of you. You said you would help me." Delphine pleaded as the elder prioress neared her with a glowing red hot iron bar from the fireplace.

"I am helping you child by ridding Satan of your soul."

The weakened, perspiring witch knelt on the dirt ground, her hands bound tightly behind her back by coarse roping that scoured her wrists like sandpaper, rendered helpless to fight back, for she had been stripped of her power by the previous iron branding of a cross upon her bare chest. It wouldn't have mattered what symbol was burned into her flesh. Iron was iron to a witch, whether good or bad, except for the immunity you had formerly acquired to the power draining magnet.

"You tricked me. I came to you for refuge of the evil one but it seems you are the real evil here."

"Hush your wicked lips now. This is the 7th marking. The final one. If you are not evil like you claim, you will be healed."

"I will be dead!! I cannot take anymore. Please!"

"Back away from her!!" Bash shouted as he kicked the door in with his guards following and immediately cut the feeble witch's ropes free.

"What are you doing?? She needs cleansed of the devil!"

"It is you that needs cleansed, you fool!" Bash snapped at the nun as he swooped up the debilitated Delphine in his arms and swiftly departed.

Once embarked on the ferry, Bash covered her with a wool blanket as she laid barely conscious upon a wooden bench.

"Bash, what good is she to Josie in this state??" Charles whispered.

"A long bath in the healing waters will aid her recovery and use of her power."

"Why does it not help Josie? You said it burns her wound?"

"It's like pouring water on hot grease when it reacts with Rahl's venom."

"Then let me ask you this. Once the Queen is healed... how do we stop Rahl without killing my father???"

"I don't know." Bash replied with great worry.

"Rahl? He's...back too?" Delphine muttered as she opened her chocolate eyes and then became quite agitated as she sat up. "No..no, Bash, you cannot take me back there!"

Bash sat beside her and took her trembling hands into his.

"I will protect you. We have others that will protect you as well. Someone dear to us needs your healing, for she has been tainted with his venom and Lola...she's believed you dead all this time. She needs her mother...she needs you Jocelyn."

Delphine's hand swiftly covered his mouth as her eyes gaped wide with fear and Charles' jaw dropped open.

"Don't ever say my name out loud! They both will hear you! I have been hiding from Harker for so long and I know he is near. Those farm animals did not die because of me...and that boy...it's Harker's curse upon me that made him go blind. I..I cannot heal your friend without cost and if I go there and attempt to, Rahl will surely punish me or even kill me this time. I can not attempt to take what he has marked for himself...not even our daughter."

"WHAT????" Charles roared. "Lola...she is my sister?????"

"Charles, calm down and let me explai..."

"Do not patronize me!! Why was I never told this??? Does my father know??? Does Lola even know??? My god, I...I had a cru...I can't even say it aloud. I feel ill..."

Charles rushed to the front of the ferry and leaned his head over the rail in hopes that the chilled wind would hold his vomit down.

"Charles. Please listen." Bash sympathetically said as he walked up behind him. "Your father does not know. There are some things he cannot remember. Possibly from the trauma of what Rahl did while consuming his body and Lola, she was too young. Neither Delphine nor Rahl told her."

The mad warlock spun around. "Then how do YOU know??!!"

"Because Rahl made sure I knew all those years ago."

"And you never told my father??!"

"Charles...I..I couldn't. Delphine swore me to secrecy because...Rahl..he..used his magic to force her in his bed. She was ashamed and never wanted Lola to know either and I...I could not tell Stephane what he had done. It would have destroyed him. Our father made him do similar things when he was a young boy like you and that is what made Rahl exist in the first place..."

"I can hear no more of this! I have been lied to about everything from the day I was born and now this. Leave me alone!"

The ferry docked and Charles was the first one to disembark, immediately heading straight to his horse as Bash followed with Delphine in his arms once more.

"Wait! Someone is out there!" Delphine warned before Bash could place her up on his horse.

The warlock spun his head around to the forest as he continued to shield her body, protecting her like he promised he would do, when Haldir and company appeared from the darkness.

"Sebastian. Charles. We recognized your horses so we waited for your return."

"Haldir. We have been searching for you to bring you back. All of you. Terrible things are happening back at the castle."

"I have been banished by your brother. More terrible things will most likely occur if I return."

"There are things you do not know."

"Do not feel left out Haldir. It's something my family likes to do. Keep secrets." Charles retorted as he walked off to relieve himself.

After the Marchwarden watched the boy walk away with a raised brow, he turned back to Bash.

"If you are referring to the earthly disturbance this evening, we are well aware of it's cause."

"Well, no, I was not speaking of that, but yes. If my suspicions are correct, it was King Thranduil. He is alive?"

Rumil's Silvan eyes jolted to Haldir as Haldir's moved to Delphine, consumed with caution.

"I know who you are. Your reputation precedes you. I sense evil upon you. You are marked with it. Why is she here?"

"Haldir. It was placed upon her long ago by Harker by no fault of hers. Josie needs her help, for she too has been marked by evil."

Haldir's sapphire eyes dilated and bolted back to Bash as Delphine's eyes widened.

"What has happened to Jo?? Is she alright???" Haldir barked as he stepped forward.

"The woman's name is...Josie?? and called Jo?? Red...hair???" Delphine cut in, highly astonished.

Bash peered down at the woman of long brown locks like Lola's. "You...know her?"

"I...I...." she fearfully stuttered. "I cannot speak of this here."

Haldir's eyes fixated on hers and they began to narrow.

"You can and you will, for I can make you speak the truth witch."

"Haldir, time is of the essence. We must get back and heal Delphine so she can help Josie. She will tell you what you need to know on the way."

"No..no I won't. You don't understand. None of you do."

Haldir moved before her with intense intimidation plastered all over his sullen face as his jaw clenched.

"Then you will make me understand, for you will not go within eyesight of her without my approval. Now speak before I force your tongue."

"I...I...well she...she was...best friend's with my daughter long ago. In the civilian world. Please...I am not supposed to speak of Josie to anyone."

"You are...Sarah's mother, Jocelyn?" Haldir asked as he tilted his head.

"Well this just gets better and better." Charles piped with a smug grin. "Did you know she's also Lola's mother??"

"Shhhh!!!" she whispered to both the elf and the warlock in a panic and then continued to Haldir in a barely audible tone. "For all intents and purposes, yes. But please...H..Haldir. If it is true about the goblin King bringing forth the dead...Caroline will most certainly be one of them and...she will come for me. I...I told you Bash...I cannot go back there!!! I won't!"

A crackling of twigs came from the forest behind them and Delphine gasped in fright, then unsteadily bolted off into the trees.

"Delphine!" Bash shouted and ran off after her with all of the others quickly following.

"Halt!" Haldir commanded, causing everyone, including Delphine to freeze in their tracks.

Haldir's chin lifted for him to smell the air, his nostrils boldly flaring as he sucked it in.

"Narcisse is here. Or shall I say Darken Rahl?" Haldir snarled as his keen nose could pick up both the peppermint and pepper scent of the conjoined entities.

Swords, bows and and axe were all raised and shimmered in light of the waxing moon and then out of the darkness appeared the wicked warlock lord, caped, hooded and holding a charged up ball of golden electricity in his palms as he glowered at them.

"Well if it isn't Haldir of Lorien and his pointy eared sisters. Long time no see girls. Are you ready to dance?"

Rahl pursed his lips tight and raised his hand, chucking the lightning ball at lightning speed into the center of the group, knocking each of the nine to their backs with the blinding explosion.

He then turned on the guards and gave them the same dose of medicine.

"You are MY army. Are...we...clear??! Or shall I start singing a good old Christmas carol for you? Warlocks roasting on an open fire." he sang. "Lord Rahl nipping off your toes."

All but the guards flung to their feet with great agility and resumed their fighting stance with weapons raised, but not Charles. He became enraged at ran at the man with his father's face, wielding his sword.

"Give me back my father!!!!"

As Charles brought the razor sharp blade to the imposter's throat, Rahl bellowed in cackling laughter as he knocked the blade from his hand and the stunned boy to the ground, then held his blade to his chest in return.

"Let us see if you are all as simple minded as this young witch! My blade rests only centimeters from his heart."

"Rahl! Leave him alone. It is I you want yes?? Here I am." Bash shouted, panting desperately.

"If there's one thing I despise, it is a martyr...and a traitor!" Rahl snapped back at Bash.

"You're the traitor!" Charles fearlessly riposted. "Would you really kill your own son???"

"You, my foolish boy, are NOT my son, just as I am not your father, which you so hypocritically just displayed as you rushed me with your sword! You cannot kill me and if you could, you kill daddy dearest!"

"I was not trying to kill you, only slow you down."

Charles swung his hand up and hurled a magical fast ball of his own at Rahl's chest, whipping the dark lord's shoulder back, but not taking him to the ground.

A sinister grin formed on Rahl's lips as he brought his shoulder back with a snap, then he advanced on Charles.

"Weak just like your father. I have had enough of you."

"NO!" Bash shouted and dived over Charles, whipping his body to the side just before Rahl's sword pierced the ground where he had lied.

"AND you!" Rahl continued and raised the blade again.

"Stephane!! STOP!!! I'm your brother! Charles is your son!! I know you're in there!!! Fight him!!! You are the stronger one!!! You are the REAL one!!!"

Rahl's hand that held the sword began to shake and in anger, he grabbed his wrist with the other hand to steady it. As he desperately tried to swing the weapon down at the huddled pair, his hand slingshot the sword through the air and then his eyes burned a blinding yellow light as his head arched back as a peppermint breeze stormed through his hair.

With a heavy exhale, Rahl's head lowered as his the glow of his eyes faded to a soft white shimmer, then became their normal icy blue hues.

"Ch...Charles? B..Bash? Where...where am I?"

"Father???!!" Charles whimpered as he and Bash slowly stood up.

"NO!" Delphine screamed. "It's not him! He still is in Rahl's form!"

"Oh Jocelyn, you always too smart for your own good. Run witch run, all of you run while you still can. I'm hungry and ready to hunt! I love cat and mouse games!"

Before their very eyes, Aragorn's, Bard's, Gimli's, Haldir's, Rumil's, Orophin's, Bash's, Charles, Delphine's and the guards', Rahl shapeshifted into the big black beast with eyes that lit up like there was sun in the dark of night as it's tantalizing tongue slurped over it's cold wet nose.

And then a low malevolent growling purr rolled up it's broad neck and steamed out into the brisk air.

"RUN!!" Delphine cried as she wasted no time in sprinting off.

The jet black panther then ferociously pounced directly at Bash.

@redeemer46

How wickedly purrfect and true!

youtube

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whispers-soundtrack-project · 2 years

Text

TMNT - Same As It Never Was

Fanmix Part One

Link to the Spotify Playlist is at the bottom of the post

(I realize I already posted this fanmix some time back, but since I am restructuring and organizing all of my fanmixes, I am doing so again!)

The Way It Ends (Landon Pigg)

We will be spilled in blood * And this is the way that they'll remember us * Emerge from the shadows * We will * Emerge from the shadows

Fires (Allman Brown)

In the dawn there's the glow of all that remains * Every heart a link in that ancient chain * These ghosts all around us * How they dance by your side

Dark Side Of The Moon (Redlight King)

I’ve been to the dark side of the moon * I’ve been to the wrong side of the track * Where the night goes on forever * Feels like I won’t be coming back

Apocalypse State Of Mind (Acoustic) (Aviators)

Where can I bury all of my suffering * Casualties of poison and pride * Where is the line between losing everything * And giving it all to say that you've tried

The Birds Are Singing At Night (Lord Huron)

What if I was the last sight you ever saw, * Would you die with a smile on your face? * Well don't even try to say you will, * Because you'd hardly recognize the sight

End Transmission (Fire From The Gods)

Where did we go? How could we stray so far away? * Delusional, tell me that we're not the ones to blame * I suggest you walk this lonely road to find redemption and become a hero

Far From Home (The Raven) (Sam Tinnesz)

I'm sending a raven * Black bird in the sky * Sending a signal that I'm here * Some sign of life * I'm sending a message * Of feathers and bone * Just let me know I'm not forgotten * Out here alone

Aftermath (Lifehouse)

If we can make it through this storm * And become who we were before * Promise me we'll never look back * The worst is far behind us now * We'll make it out of here somehow * Meet me in the aftermath

Silhouette (Aquilo)

Let's go out in flames so everyone knows who we are * Cause these city walls never knew that we'd make it this far * We've become echoes, but echoes that faded away * So let's dance like two shadows burning out our glory days

Hold Me Now (Recalibrated) (Red)

Fall asleep to dreams of home, * Where the waves are crashing * The only place I've ever known, * Now the future has me * I see the fire in the sky, * See it all around me * I said the past is dead, the life I had is gone * Said I won't give up, * Until I see the sun

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt fanmix #same as it never was #sainw #donatello #fanmix #playlist

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attonitos-gloria · 2 years

Note

What asoiaf/got ships/dynamics that aren't from the dance of dragons era do you like?

ANON, thank you for this question, i could spend hours here talking about that actually, and i apologize in advance for the longest answer to an ask ever seen in this blog <3

so, i think the main answer to that is: i love all the dynamics of house lannister, from AGoT onwards. (i like problematic, abusive families???) jaime and cersei reflecting each other's perfection in a sea of shared grief until jaime loses his hand and the mirror shatters; tyrion's devotion to jaime, the way they are tied together through a lie until the moment jaime cuts the thread off. the friendship between tyrion and penny is so so so important to me, too.

i love, love, love, the ghost of joanna, the what-if that haunts everything, and how it impacts tyrion's life, how he's been forced to carry this blame and associate this blame to his disability... the everlasting impact tywin imprinted in each one of them through consistent abuse that they repeat and pass onto other people, and how they have to literally dissociate to handle the trauma. i i love the weight of the valonqar prophecy. how cersei is delusional and paranoid thinking it's about tyrion because she is too blind to realize that her downfall is right in the mirror, right there in the face of her twin - that is, her own face.

i love how the prophecy creates this rift between cersei and tyrion, because cersei is the only person who could make tyrion feel truly loved, if she could just let go of tywin's ways. where cersei goes, jaime follows; together, the three of them could have a chance to protect each other. but they don't protect each other! they harm each other in horrible ways! how could cersei escape her father? this god-like figure, larger than life? and so she hates tyrion. she shapes her heart after tywin's; she doesn't know any other way. jaime tries to control the damage, but he can't escape tywin either, no one can, so he inflicts more damage on tyrion in tywin's name by lying about tysha. he makes his little brother believe he will never be loved and, by doing that, through terror and shame and guilt, he cages tyrion in the confines of house lannister, too.

jaime tries to run, then, by joining the kingsguard: he doesn't want to be tywin's golden heir. but then, he is stuck in a court where the king rapes his wife and wants to set the world on fire. he is seventeen, the king is mad, his father is at the gates: jaime can't escape tywin - or rather, he can’t escape his own heart, shaped after tywin, and what he decides to do then haunts him for the rest of his life. (i'm not saying it wasn't heroic of him to save the city; but the timing was just too convenient for house lannister. as were the methods. as were the people he chose to save, and the people he chose not to.) and the war is over, at last. cersei is going to be queen! all she ever wanted! but the new king is not the prince she dreamed of. to ensure house lannister's power, her father marries her off to another man, a man who abuses her over and over. all jaime wanted was to stay in court with his sister. now they are finally there together, but jaime is watching his twin, his queen: married with a violent king and unable to do anything to protect her. a joke of a knight. none of them can escape house lannister's grasp, until tyrion finally breaks free, in the most chaotic way possible. when tyrion kills tywin, he kills the only god he and his siblings ever knew. this quote lives in my head rent-free:

Snatch scratched at his stubble with the point of his hook. "Nasty thing, a crossbow. How many men you kill with that?"

"Nine." His father counted for at least that many, surely. Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, Shield of Lannisport, Hand of the King, husband, brother, father, father, father.

sorry, i’m never getting over this; tywin is their whole world???? he is a multitude of men? tyrion repeats father three times, one for cersei, one for jaime, one for himself, he thinks there’s no space tywin doesn’t fill and now that tywin is dead the world is kind of void, empty. that’s religious! he is speaking as someone who abandoned his faith, who apostatized!!! (my friend @thistle-and-thorn has a theory that tyrion’s arc in ADWD is just grrm processing the lost of his catholic faith and his journey toward atheism. she can explain it better, but i think there’s good arguments for that.) WHY WOULD GEORGE DO THAT TO ME????

anyway, tyrion leaves house lannister, but house lannister doesn’t leave him, as it often happens when you abandon your faith: there’s something that lingers. tyrion acts as a monster: he acts like tywin made him. he is not a well-behaved victim. he doesn't mourn and suffer prettily. how could he? after a lifetime of being lied to, of being told he is unlovable, and finding out he wasted the only true love he ever had? no, tyrion is not going to be merciful; he is paying back in the only currency house lannister knows and the only language they understand. lannisters only speak in debts. he is going to be the one to destroy house lannister after all; he's already begun..... and each one of them are really just reaping what tywin sowed.

just... house lannister, man.

i think the future of the lannisters is being utterly destroyed and i want to watch my favorite dysfunctional family burning in despair in the aftermath of their own decisions so badly. like, i just want to see tywin's legacy destroyed, ashes on the ground. i am going to DANCE on tywin's grave when it happens. and if tyrion can’t let go of the tywin that lingers in his heart, he will go down with it? that remains to be seen, though, and i hope meeting Dany will start the process of his healing.

ok. i am VERY sorry about this crazy lannister moment. let's move on.

i love the relationship between tyrion and sansa. i'm completely obsessed with this doomed, horrible marriage. not that i think anything should or could have happened when sansa was a child-hostage in king's landing!! but i like the story being told through them: how tyrion embodies, at once, the knighthood that sansa dreams of (by trying to protect her from joffrey's abuse, by not raping her. 'i am only a little lion, and i vow: i shall not savage you' was literally one of the first thing he's ever said to her!!) and the abuse she suffers on virtue of being a maid (by being forced to marry him, and her overall situation as a hostage of his family); how sansa is a sort of projection of tysha (i've angrily ranted about it here) at the same time he is painfully aware that sansa represents a life he will never have (a family that loves him, a wife that wants him). how sansa wants to be loved but thinks no one will ever marry her for love, only for her claim, at the same time tyrion is thinking he doesn't want winterfell only, he wants her, he wanted a chance of a true marriage with her. and yet, they CAN'T communicate. they can't, it's impossible, like that pathetic scene of overcooked peased and mutton: sansa is too afraid, tyrion is too aware of her disgust for him, there's a fracture between them that cannot be healed or crossed. but they are together in this in a weird way; they are alone together. i think this was one of the few things i liked about the show - i didn't like tyrion's overall whitewashing, but that particular adaptation was made with george's approval and it makes sense in the light of the books. they depicted sansa and tyrion as some sort of tragic team-up in king's landing, as each other's allies in the saddest way possible - because it is a fruitless alliance. it leads nowhere: tyrion is not going to rape her, so their marriage won't give him lannister children; he is protecting her but effectively keeping her in the lannister household so he is not... really, actually saving her (no one escapes tywin, etc). without children, neither of them are going to be given winterfell. it is a barren marriage, a pointless island of safety, but it's what they could do with what they had in hand, that is, each other. and something about this is deeply moving to me? i think there's a lot of hidden kindness in this ship. they break my heart. in every universe, they do, and i have tried not to ship them! but i can't!! they are very compelling from a narrative point of view. that being said, i don't think they will ever be happy together, and that's kind of the reason why i ship them in the first place. i look forward to them meeting again in the books, though. they are my ultimate one true pairing, unfortunately. we don't get to choose who we ship.

i love jaime and brienne. i love how brienne forces jaime to confront his failures and his flaws. i love how she is, in all ways that matter, the anti-cersei: she is not there to reflect his own image back to him; she is everything he wishes he could be one day. she exposes him, she touches his deepest wounds, by simply existing and doing her thing. i think it's supposed to have romantic undertones and i ship them that way, but even without the romance, i still think it's one of the most important relationships of the series. (also love podrick, their adopted son, with uncle tyrion in the family??? like? oh my God: i think tyrion should be everyone's uncle.)

they never met in the books, but after so many intentional narrative parallels i am convinced george wants me to get deeply invested in jon/dany/tyrion. he demanded that of me, personally, he came into my house. these three are going to save the world and rule together. or they will all die in the war or kill themselves in the process; i don't know anymore. all i know is that they'll meet and it will be THE event of the asoiaf series. i particularly have a very soft spot for tyrion/jon? their interactions in AGoT warm me on cold nights; jon's young curiosity about tyrion, tyrion's harsh kindness...

and, because i am crazy about the lannisters: i’m sorry, but given the intentional parallels that grrm created between dany & cersei (different approach to women in power and how to handle your fire weapons no, i don’t think dany is the mad queen of the series) and the obvious similarities between jon & jaime (different approaches to what it means to keep your oaths and break them and being honorable), YOU UNDERSTAND HOW JON/DANY/TYRION IS THE FOUND FAMILY THAT JAIME/CERSEI/TYRION COULD NEVER BE???? *going crazy again and running in circles*

i do believe everything is about house lannister, yes. when i said we were moving on from them, i LIED, i was lying.

let’s try again. moving on!!

sansa is the character i relate to the most: the way she sees the world as a story, a tale, and people as characters in it, with these predetermined roles? and the shattering of this worldview as she finds out that people don't play their part? so with that in mind: the parallels between sansa/ned and sansa/littlefinger is something that i often think about. in the end of the books i believe it will be clear that sansa is, and has always been, ned's daughter, and not petyr's. the parallels and similarities between ned and sansa overwhelm me (this idealism is present in ned's chapters, too, a lot). i think the way grrm inserted petyr there to expose this rift in sansa's character was brilliant: is she going to be ned's daughter and hold on to honor, to kindness, to love through loyalty, to the hidden truth in every ideal she's learned even though the world is not ideal (all the songs can't be lies)? is she going to be petyr's daughter and live in a liquid world based on lies, on cynicism, assuming the worst of everyone and using everyone as pieces on a board? it's where she is now, as alayne. but it's not how she's going to end, i hope? (don't get me wrong; i love petyr/sansa, it's a ship i relate to a lot, unfortunately. and it's so wonderfully written! but i very much want sansa to kill petyr one day. i want all my faves killing their abusive fathers!! hello alicent?!? get it over with girl)

they haven't met yet in the books, but when sansa and brienne meet, i think i will legitimately cry. (something something the lady and her knight)

bran is my second favorite character, and the friendship between him, meera and jojen is the most precious thing to be defended and protected at all costs. it's just too pure. like, the only not-problematic dynamic of this list, full of incest, underage pairings, daddy issues and abusive relationships. bran, jojen and meera are rays of sunshine.

and it's weird, but i have very specific headcanons about lyanna and benjen being the closest among their siblings - everyone talks about lyanna and ned, because he went to war for her and adopted her son, but benjen literally grew up with her when ned and brandon left to be fostered in the Vale? he mourned her loss so much that he took the black when she died? 🥺 everyone out there competing for lyanna's attention, going to war and trying to prove they loved her more than ALL THE OTHERS, and benjen just. couldn't live in winterfell without her. he just quietly went away and no one knows why? i think about that, sometimes.

ok, there's more. this list keeps growing, but these are the faves that consume my time and energy. THANK YOU FOR ASKING. i am SO SORRY about the length of this, it’s just..... i love talking about the blorbos!!! i'd love to know yours, please tell me about them.

#ask me stuff #i'm sorry this is so long?#everything you touch turns to gold #not me being normal about the lannisters?! again.

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whispering-about-the-tmnt · 2 years

Text

Same As It Never Was

Fanmix, Part One

The Way It Ends (Landon Pigg)

We will be spilled in blood * And this is the way that they'll remember us * Emerge from the shadows * We will * Emerge from the shadows

Fires (Allman Brown)

In the dawn there's the glow of all that remains * Every heart a link in that ancient chain * These ghosts all around us * How they dance by your side

Dark Side Of The Moon (Redlight King)

I’ve been to the dark side of the moon * I’ve been to the wrong side of the track * Where the night goes on forever * Feels like I won’t be coming back

Apocalypse State Of Mind (Acoustic) (Aviators)

Where can I bury all of my suffering * Casualties of poison and pride * Where is the line between losing everything * And giving it all to say that you've tried

The Birds Are Singing At Night (Lord Huron)

What if I was the last sight you ever saw, * Would you die with a smile on your face? * Well don't even try to say you will, * Because you'd hardly recognize the sight

End Transmission (Fire From The Gods)

Where did we go? How could we stray so far away? * Delusional, tell me that we're not the ones to blame * I suggest you walk this lonely road to find redemption and become a hero

Far From Home (The Raven) (Sam Tinnesz)

I'm sending a raven * Black bird in the sky * Sending a signal that I'm here * Some sign of life * I'm sending a message * Of feathers and bone * Just let me know I'm not forgotten * Out here alone

Aftermath (Lifehouse)

If we can make it through this storm * And become who we were before * Promise me we'll never look back * The worst is far behind us now * We'll make it out of here somehow * Meet me in the aftermath

Silhouette (Aquilo)

Hold Me Now (Recalibrated) (Red)

Part Two coming soon!

#tmnt #sainw #tmnt 2k3 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #same as it never was #fanmix #playlist #donatello #Spotify

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felassan · 4 years

Note

Hii MJ. I was wondering what you think of the possibilities of Zevran being in DA4? Ik bioware has brought back a character from the dead (Leliana), so Idk if I’m delusional for ignoring that zev can die. But considering he (used to?) be associated with the crows and they seem to be a big part of the next game, do you think it might be possible that he could have a conditional advisor like role? Or since he isn’t a crow, he definitely won’t be?

Hi Nonnie! Some thoughts on this. This became long so it’s under a cut. TN spoilers under cut.

Initially on seeing the BtS vid I wondered if one of the Crow figures could be Zevran (gut response). I don’t think it is anymore. That figure’s outfit resembles Zevran’s “Black Shadow” attire from WoT, but lots of characters in the concept art are wearing various types of Crow uniform: the other character in that picture is also wearing Crow clothes, and so are figures here, here (Matt Rhodes’ Art Station upload of this one says that “Crow” is the title of that piece) and here. Assassin-y figures are also present in the lineup shot. I think what it means given the ‘concept art is mood-setting’ stuff is that the Crows as a faction will have a significant role to play in the upcoming game. This makes sense given the prominence of Crows in TN - no less than 3 stories, one of which introduces in-depth a new significant-feeling Crow character (Lucanis, who is currently active in Tevinter, who pinged ‘companion flags’ to me [this is subjective tho], and whose short story ends with in unresolved “unfinished business” Tevinter-heavy hook) and one of which expands at length on known Crow lore as well as being like “here’s what’s been happening with Crow leadership and here’s some setup for what’s going on with the Crows soon due to the Antaam invasion”.

They did bring back Leliana if she was killed in DAO (demon pope!). I might be misremembering, but I seem to remember some tweets or other dev comment somewhere where they said that they’d try to avoid bringing back player-killed characters like this in the future (could def be remembering this wrong though). I also think I remember PW saying that when writing Trespasser, the Bull dying if you sided with the Qun in his DAI mission thing was something they struggled with a lot over whether to have happen or not - because having that happen would mean that in those universes, Bull is dead-dead and that could potentially have knock-on impacts if the writers ever wanted to use him again in the future. There are other cases where dead characters resurface, like Anders in DA2 (but his potential death in the expansion was an epilogue slide, and the epilogues are framed more as rumors and many chunks of them have been retconned in subsequent games) or in the extended media (e.g. Wynne popping up in Asunder if she died in DAO, but we know that the stories in the books and novels aren’t canon-canon, that being a limitation of the media-type where it’s not like you can enter or make choices, but that they are events that fit in BW’s ‘default’ canon, and that the events described therein unfolded in a different way in different universes like in ones where Alistair isn’t King).

The explanation for Leliana’s survival was a highly specific, rare set of circumstances - the devout Andrastian woman who died in a magic mountain full of lyrium which does kooky things, who believes maybe the Maker brought her back. How many lyrium ghost spirit-imitations of dead chars are walking around Thedas, or should be implied to be? The writers can always handwave, retcon, or explain around anything that they choose to, and if they want to bring him back in all universes they will, but I lean towards preferring “player-killed characters stay dead” because of choice and consequence and enjoying that choices have weight and impact. I also think “surprise, they lived” can become overdone as a gimmick if writers aren’t careful (generally speaking, not a DA-specific comment). For me - what would be the explanation for his survival? He can also die at more than one point in DAO. I know he’s beloved and can also be still alive, but possible deaths aside, when it comes to characters returning in this franchise, especially former companions, I also always lean towards “less old, more new” and towards “a few cameos only, not lots, and such cameos should be plot-relevant, not random”. There are a couple reasons for that which I won’t really get into here as that’s a separate topic, but it’s partially due to feelings like - Thedas is a big big place with heaps of people in it, I prefer it when the world doesn’t feel small, DA is the story of the setting rather than any one PC or group, I’d rather meet and encounter mostly-new people, etc.

Aside from that stuff, aside from Antiva, he hasn’t been positioned recently as being in the north or having ongoing plot-stuff there (this isn’t a requirement for him to come back, and it happening for a character doesn’t mean they’re a shoe-in, but compare that with Fenris in Blue Wraith, who is now in Tevinter and working with Inquisition agents). He’s appeared in 2 games already and been referenced in all 4. I really enjoy what I’ll call his ‘romanced epilogue’ as an ending to his story too - unlike the other 3 DAO LIs, he accompanied his love on their quest to the west in search of a cure for the Calling. I love that, it’s so faithful and romantic. He’s still at their side and they’re still together after all this time. He journeyed far into the dangerous unknown with them looking for a needle in a haystack so that his partner doesn’t have to die a horrible early death, as faithful in his actions as his sentiments that he’d storm the Black City at the Hero’s side if he had to implied. The last time we heard from the Hero and romanced Zevran, they were together, and they were well. Y’know? I also tend to assume, due to Lelimancing Wardens returning in the Trespasser epilogues, that all Heroes who survived DAO return from their quest. I don’t want that to be jeopardized, and those references are enough for me.

And as much as I love Zevran (and I really do), I don’t personally feel a need for him to return either, neither in terms of his arc, ‘exploredness’ as a character, or in the overarching plot. As you say, in some universes he’s not a Crow anymore. There was a cool post I saw on this recently which I’m struggling to find the link to, but the jist of it was that the Crows are a pretty shit organization in terms of their ‘recruitment’ and training practises, how they operate and everything. They abused him during his life and he has now freed himself through his experiences during the Fifth Blight with the Warden, and in this new life he’s been on a years-long endeavor to kill Crows. For Zevran’s future, I think I’d like it if it didn’t always have to involve Crow involvement or a Crow focus? Like, that he’s more than a Crow, than a former Crow, than a Crow-hunter/opposer. Separate to that, there are also other, active Antivan Crows operating in the north that we’ve not yet spent time with in a game or ever gotten to know as a PC. It’s a big if, but if a character like Lucanis or Teia etc is prominent in the game, as a companion or advisor or contact etc, it might be a bit redundant to have another. This example is flipped around, but like, we had Cullen as an advisor, and he was “the templar/former templar guy”. We didn’t then also have a templar companion. So if we had Lucanis or whoever as a companion, I’m not sure that we’d then have a Crow/former Crow in an advisor-type role too?

It’s not delusional to want to see a fav or loved character again though. :) I’m not one of the people that wants to see my favs in every new entry, I’m largely happy for them to be let be off-screen, see a reference to them here and there (like the War Table, an allusion to or a dialogue line about them), but I understand the wish and get the feeling behind it. And it’s especially not delusional given the context which is that the writers have brought back player-killed characters before!

I doubt they’d have an advisor or advisor-like person be conditional (imagine playing DAI without Leliana and Cullen if they died or had unretconned bad endings prior to the game, it wouldn’t work without Padok Wiks-style stand-ins or a lot of logistical work on the devs’ part to structure the writing around their absences in those instances). A conditional cameo of some description though I could see (something comparable to his DA2 cameo or Nate’s conditional appearance in DA2 for example). Can’t say how likely this is though, especially given that Crow business-stuff could be repped by other newer chars. Maybe if there’s an option to dismantle, sabotage or oppose the Crows he could crop up. I’d imagine any appearance in relation to the Crows would be anti-Crow or “informer on the Crows due to past experience”, not pro-Crow or “the Crow perspective guy”, in universes where he didn’t go back to them anyway. And I’m not saying Zevran was a Talon or that he’s still a Crow or that it’s him, but just while I’m on this subject it brought a semi-related thought to mind, which is that post-TN and the surviving Talons having contacting the heirs to the other houses’ Talon roles, I do wonder who the new head of House Arainai is.

(I include the info on the ‘where I lean’ stuff because I’m sure it colors or biases my responses sometimes).

#dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #dragon age #bioware #mj replies #anonymous #video games #tevinter nights spoilers #tevinter nights spoiler #tevinter nights #spoilers #spoiler #fenris #the Fenaissance #mass effect #abuse mention #cw abuse #abuse cw #abuse for ts

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multiverseforger · 3 years

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Edit

Elsa lives in Bloodstone Manor with her mother, and ally Adam the Frankenstein Monster. She has befriended Charles Barnabus, a pureblood vampire lawyer and executor of the Bloodstone estate.[16] Together along with Dracula they defeat Nosferatu and his scourge of vampires.[17]

Marvel MonstersEdit

Pursuing a monster-hunting occupation, she begins an online blog to create an electronic encyclopedic reference guide for the numerous monsters and alien beasts in the Marvel Universe (published by Marvel as Marvel Monsters: From the Files of Ulysses Bloodstone and the Monster Hunters).[18]

NextwaveEdit

Main article: Nextwave

Elsa Bloodstone has also appeared in Nextwave, but the series' connection to the Marvel Universe is unclear - it was initially out-of-continuity[19][20] and was later implied to be the adventures of tourists from Earth-A.[21][22] However, Civil War: Damage Report suggest that at least parts of the adventures of the team were set in the main continuity: the others may have been delusions brought by constant use of drugs, mental conditioning and deceptions by their H.A.T.E. employers. Her delusional state could also account for her "memories" of being routinely subjected to abusive monster-hunting training by her father, like being left alone in childhood with a robotical nanny programmed to torture her whenever she wasn't able to reply to a question regarding monsters, or being forced by her father to kill monsters, as a toddler, armed with simple cutlery.[23]

The character elected to suspend her college studies upon being recruited by Dirk Anger of H.A.T.E. to fight Unusual Weapons of Mass Destruction (UWMD) alongside Monica Rambeau, Tabitha Smith, Aaron Stack, and The Captain. Shortly after this recruiting Elsa and her teammates found H.A.T.E. to be funded by the Beyond Corporation©, which is in fact a terrorist organization.[24] Using the stolen Marketing Plan of Beyond, the Nextwave squad traveled across the country destroying hidden UWMDs which included Fin Fang Foom, Mindless Ones, and Forbush Man.[25][26][27]

She suffers constant abuses by her teammembers, like being confronted by Tabitha Smith about her European origins and accent (referred even in the Nextwave Theme Song as her main characteristic), and constantly ogled by Aaron Stack, attracted by her large chest.[28][29]

The InitiativeEdit

Recently, Elsa joined up as part of Iron Man and the government's Fifty State Initiative. Elsa has been identified as one of the 142 registered superheroes who appear to have signed the Superhuman Registration Act and become part of the Initiative.[30] She later returns to her monster-hunting adventures: still with her brasher mind-set, seen in her Nextwave days, she vows solemnly to never have children on her own, since she feels the responsibility of being a Bloodstone too heavy to be forced on another living being. Instead, she chooses to end her legacy once and for all, completing the task of freeing humanity from monsters before dying.[31]

Legion of MonstersEdit

Main article: Legion of Monsters

Marvel NOW!Edit

As part of the Marvel NOW! event, Elsa Bloodstone is shown as one of the teachers at the Braddock Academy (the British equivalent of the Avengers Academy) where she takes her brother Cullen Bloodstone to attend.[32]

She gets involved with the Thunderbolts, when Punisher steals her magic regalia to battle teammate Ghost Rider[33] and again when the team needs magical assistance from her and W.A.N.D. in order to battle Doctor Strange.[34]

Elsa Bloodstone is later recruited to join the Fearless Defenders.[35]

Avengers UndercoverEdit

Elsa later appears in the pages of Avengers Undercover where she visits Cullen and argues with him in the S.H.I.E.L.D. detention center after Hazmat seemingly killed Arcade.[36]

AXISEdit

During the AXIS storyline, Elsa Bloodstone is among the heroes recruited by an inverted Doctor Doom to join his team of Avengers. They attempt to protect the innocent citizens of Latveria, who had nothing to do with their monarch's latest problems.[37]

Civil War IIEdit

During the Civil War II storyline, Elsa appeared in Ouray, Colorado, where she defends the town from an infection that is turning the populace into a swarm of giant bugs. She befriends Nico Minoru who is running from Captain Marvel due to a vision of the future predicting she will murder an innocent woman named Alice. Elsa takes Nico to meet her contact, Janine, who is harboring survivors and looking for her missing daughter, Alice. Captain Marvel, Medusa, Dazzler and Singularity arrive and argue over whether to apprehend Nico or not. Eventually they split into two teams: one to find Alice and the other to protect the civilians. Elsa, Nico and Captain Marvel search for Alice in an abandoned mine and are attacked by a giant bug which infects Elsa. Nico learns the bug is Alice who begs Nico to kill her since she is the one infecting the people. When Nico refuses, Elsa threatens to murder Captain Marvel to force Nico into committing murder to stop her transformation into a monster. Medusa, Singularity, and an infected Dazzler are overrun by bugs and regroup with the others just as Bloodstone infects Danvers. After Dazzler infects Medusa, Minoru casts a spell to transform Alice back into a human but it does not cure the rest of the populace. Alice explains that she must be killed and Minoru reluctantly casts a death spell on Alice which transforms the infected back into humans. Alice then remerges in her final form and tells A-Force that she is no longer a threat as she now has greater control of her powers.[38]

Monsters UnleashedEdit

During the Monsters Unleashed storyline, Elsa is seen in Peru and finds a prophecy that tells of the Monster King all the monsters fear. She then discovers that a kid named Kei Kawade is somehow responsible for the invasion and pays him a visit. Elsa then takes Kei to the Inhumans to examine his abilities. When another wave of monsters arrive, Elsa and other heroes protect Kei from monsters attacking the Triskelion, a S.H.I.E.L.D. base off the coast of New York City.[39

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ask-hetaaca-germany · 4 years

Text

Indemnity

For all the intelligence that he had ascribed to himself, Ludwig had not the foresight at all to plan for his escape. That much was apparent now, he realized, as he wandered through the cobblestone alleyways of Berlin with nothing but the clothes on his back and a messenger bag strung across his gangly frame.

It had been days since he had boarded the ferry that had brought him to the mainland, driven less by logic and more by sheer animalistic panic.

Of course, in theory, he could justify his flight. Any excuse was sufficient in his desperation to be right, as it had all his life. He could tell himself that he was scared, that his departure was more instinct than reaction. That who wouldn’t be afraid, with their world crashing down around them?

But, in practice, Ludwig knew better than that.

Others would have done better, explained themselves. Try as he might have, no amount of self-justification could obfuscate the truth he wanted so desperately to avoid. That Ludwig Beilschmidt was a coward, and running away was the only solution that didn’t further stain his hands with red.

What more was there to say? Every word in the document had been true. Perhaps he was foolish to think that he would be able to escape from the lives that he had taken; but now the sloppily stitched sheepskin had rotted away, and all that was left was his own wolfish snarl, jaws still dripping crimson.

Yet, obfuscation was the only option he had ever considered, for what school would let a criminal brazenly stalk their gilded halls?

That had all been rendered inconsequential. The result in front of him remained the same. Self-imposed exile from the too-small island that teemed with collars and cages. The betrayal of the few friends he had managed to make, forced to see the savagery of someone they once deemed harmless.

It would all be okay if he didn’t return. It would have been better if he had left them a body to mourn.

Martyrs have been made out of less.

Now, lost in the heart of a homeland he did not remember, he had no place to run. Just the fleeting ghost of a childhood he did not live, a reminder of a time in his life where he had no sins to bear.

But even that was an insight too grand to ascribe to his absconsion.

He had spent his first day wandering the streets in a nostalgic daze, chasing after the mytopic afterimage of a home he wished to remember.

Then, night had fallen and shattered the illusion.

This was not the first time that Ludwig had been alone. From the fatality-caused emancipation that had concluded his childhood, to the first time he had tried to run away from his problems––it seemed as though his life was a cycle of constant solitary atonement, only briefly broken with undeserved affection.

However, for all of his faults, he was never one for self-pity. In consequence, when night came and the streets emptied, Ludwig did not wallow in his own misfortune, for every horrid thing that had fallen upon him had been earned through his own sins. He simply sank into a darkened corner, like he had so many nights before, and dreamt of the last comforting touch that had brushed across his once-unmarred skin.

One of his guardians had told him once that there was never a set amount of options in life. That there was always an infinite amount of choices to be made, it was just the consequences that ruled them as untenable. They were always like that, flippant and fluid in everything they did.

Ludwig was not sure how true that was, but he knew of the decisions that laid in front of him. If he were less selfish, if he was less like a trained dog that had not yet forgotten his tricks, then he would not be considering that which he would have once called inexcusable.

His quirk could be sold. That was something that had already been proven to him by the countless, faceless evils whom he had served as a child. In the days since he had set foot in the city, that gnawing thought had only gotten louder in his brain. From whispering, low tones of power in an all-too-familiar voice, to a promise so loud that it was all Ludwig could hear.

As his hunger grew, so did his desperation.

When the soft sounds of the bustling city streets faded into the silent night, there was nothing to distract him from the stridency of his consciousness. A buzz of his miraculously-functional phone jolted him from his light doze, the dull ache in his stomach too pervasive for him to be able to sleep.

Another message from ghosts he thought he had long outrun.

They loved him. That was a fact that had brought a smile to his tearstained and bloodsoaked cheeks once upon a time, when ruffled hair and praise was enough justification for any action he was ordered to take. How could the vain eminences not adore a child whose reverence was so absolute that he burned with passion for their every word?

Now, staring at those acetate-sweet words of home and family, he wished he could believe them again. The half-forgotten feeling of an embrace burned at his skin, a feverish longing digging into his soul.

Here, alone and silent, Ludwig could not deny the selfishness in his yearning. His fantasies of a celebrated return, tempered only by the adumbration of sickening memories.

His life was defined by sophistic hope, trapped between the ideal of a moralistic self and the truth of a reprehensible malefactor. He knew what his guardians would say, welcoming him home with too-cold arms and cheshire smiles. It was delusional for a creature like him to rise above his nature, but they would forgive his transgressions in exchange for his continued mindless devotion.

What is the correct choice between an unattainable future and an unforgivable past?

Ludwig felt a lump rise in his throat, the culmination of every swallowed sob and buried whimper lodged in his chest. A wave of nausea rose to lap at his empty stomach, and he could not tell if it was a selfish reflex at the thought of returning to face his failure or if the gore of his youth finally provoked the empathetic reaction it should’ve, years too late.

He clenched his jaw, the grinding of bone and tensed muscle sending a sharp stab of pain through his rest-starved brain. He would not let himself weep like an innocent creature, pearl-laden tears glistening with unjust anguish. He did not deserve to claim pain for the suffering he had inflicted on others.

Sometimes, he wished morality was an inherent trait, not a mantel of responsibility that he struggled to lift, a too-weak Atlas with an object he does not even fully understand. Perhaps for others, it was natural, but that was a possibility that Ludwig was too afraid to imagine. He already felt like a weapon with delusions of humanity, his attempts at being a person too strange and unsettling to be anything but feigned.

Distantly, he could feel himself shaking, tendons twitching like electricity-shocked cadavers. His chest heaved with panic he did not feel, frenzied lungs sending signals of fear to an unresponsive brain. It would be a pathetic scene for anyone to stumble upon, a half-grown teenager curled in a concrete alleyway, trembling with glassy eyes and a vacant stare.

Yet, he did not sense distress nor suffering, just a faraway feeling of fog and gritted teeth. He stayed there for minutes, or maybe hours, eyes tracing the rough texture of the stone while his body shuddered with long-forgotten fear.

At some point, dawn came. Soft hues of gold and rose washed across the dirty grey ground, lighting the alley in an undeserving cinematic glow. His bloodshot eyes filled with tears at the glare, each blink feeling sandpaper-dry.

Unfolding himself from his curled position, Ludwig straightened his rumpled collar and tucked in his shirt, each movement stilted and robotic. His jaw was still clenched, gaze unfocused on some unknown, faraway entity that only he could see. He blinked once, reptile-slow, and arduously dragged his attention back to himself. There would be no time for childlike absentmindedness in the light of the day. He had thought that these habits had long been trained out of him: it was disheartening to know that even those he thought as all-powerful could not curb his own defective tendencies.

His phone buzzed with another message, the sharp sound singing siren songs of longed-for affection. Unable to resist the temptation of validation, brief and conditional as it may be, Ludwig reached for it, gloved hands still shuddering with the aftershock of his nocturnal panic.

The directive was not what he had expected. Instead of vows of family and love, there was a quiet, half-hearted offer of shelter from one of his classmates, the words dripping with poorly disguised disdain. If he were younger, more naive and willing to think that goodwill came without strings attached, he would have, perhaps, accepted the offer.

But he was not.

He would not subject others to the experience of being faced with something so viscerally iniquitous as the guilt he carried. If he were to survive, he need not burden others with his crimes.

((Thank you to @ask-hetaaca-czechia for proofreading, brainstorming and editing this with me!! ily king)

#hws germany #APH Germany #hetalia #ludwig beilschmidt #written response #backstory event

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flvcr · 4 years

Text

ᴡᴇꜱᴛᴍᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴀꜱᴋ ₀₀₁ : ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴜʀᴠᴇʏ

𝙬 / 𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙣𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙤𝙧

ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴇᴛɪᴇɴɴᴇ

when you think of westmere, what’s the first thing that comes to your mind?

❝ i guess it’s more of a feeling for me ? this sense of warmth. it’s just bits and pieces engrained in my mind of those in town. it’s starting to feel like home for me ? i mean, i’ve moved around a lot, and although i think back on those cities fondly, this is a new one for me. ❞

have you read rw wallace’s books? if you have, which ones your favorite?

❝ i’ve read through them all, mainly as a result of joining a book club in town - some a couple times more than the others. if i had to choose, i think my favorite one is secret identities. although i’ve marked up corruption and creation a bunch, that one’s pretty solid. i read the first when i moved to new york, and then once i discovered it was inspired by westmere i knew i needed to come visit, and ever since it’s definitely lived up to the hype set in merelake. ❞

what spot is your favorite in town and why?

❝ favorite ? hm, the gazebo, at night, is a bit surreal. there’s this bit of stillness for a moment that just seems to encompass the entire town, and the very next second the crickets are chirping, it’s almost like you can hear everything yet NOTHING all at the same time. ❞

if you were stranded at night, who’s the first person you’d call and why?

❝ @sebmeier . let’s just hope the poor sod isn’t standing beside me this time. oh, cause he’d put the pedal to the vettel. but if he’s with me, @mcttie - it’s a given. ❞

how often do you talk to your parents/family?

❝ we text here and there throughout the week, my parents and siblings alike. we have a family group chat, ha, um, but it’s nice. i call my mum on thursdays, we’ll facetime and have a proper meal together. if my siblings are visitng, or dad is around they’ll join too. ❞

how would your best friend describe you? what about your worst enemy?

❝ probably in the same fashion - an ass that just won’t quit. i’m only kidding. perhaps more along the lines of me being a pain in the ass ? ❞

do you like celebrating birthdays? what about holidays?

❝ birthdays ? hm, no, well not my own. i do enjoy gift giving though, and writing a card, so i guess i enjoy others birthdays. holidays, eh, it more so depends on the one. i enjoy halloween, that dream-like christmas bubble of time is a bit uncanny, and i’m a proper sucker for valentine’s day. all the others are a bit of a wash. no offense to the easter bunny and what not. ❞

do you believe in ghosts? aliens? are you a conspiracy theorist?

❝ ghosts ? definitely. growing up in montpellier, i could’ve sworn there was this girl that used to come and play with me, but a couple years back when i tried to explain her to my parents, they said they had no idea who i was describing. aliens? there’s absolutely no way we’re the highest form of life in this galaxy, if so, that’s awfully depressing. i guess you could say i’m a conspiracy theorist, i mean, i’m not sold on the ideology of lizard people quite yet, but i do often slip into the online void - some of those just ... click, y’know ? ❞

if you won the lottery, what’s the first thing you’d do?

❝ lately i’ve been thinking of designing some type of rec center filled with after school programs and an ice rink, of course. although, i don’t necessarily need to win the lottery to really set it in motion, i suppose. regardless, i think it’d be a bit exciting to develop a program that’d engage with the youth of westmere, it’s a bit shoddy now, but who knows ? maybe one day it’ll come together. ❞

is the glass half full or half empty?

❝ that all depends on what you’re putting into it, hm ? are you taking or giving ? ❞

are you more at home in a room full of people or being alone?

❝ of course i enjoy spending time with others, but a room FULL of people sounds a bit nightmarish. i read this thing about how you become the most like the five people you surround yourself with, but it makes me wonder, at what points are you ever truly yourself ? i figure you can only find out when you’re completely alone. ❞

are you someone who follows a routine every day or prefers the spontaneity of life?

❝ a mix of both ? during training and the hockey season, i think a routine is a bit easier to follow. however, knowing i’m out for the season, i’m looking forward to the spontaneity of life here in westmere. ❞

do you want kids someday? if you already have kids, would you want more?

❝ i haven’t really thought that far ahead. someday, maybe ? i do enjoy spending time with @salingcr and his rugrats, so why not ? yes ? ❞

what’s your go to karaoke song?

❝ runnin’ with the devil - van halen. ❞

what throwback movie are you crossing your fingers that drive on by will show someday?

❝ meet joe black, although i’m not sure if they ever would due to the length of the film. ❞

what’s your favorite ice cream flavor down at ice queen & king?

❝ mint chocolate chip is a classic, but lately i’ve had a hankering for their mocha almond fudge. can never go wrong there. ❞

ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴇᴛɪᴇɴɴᴇ

if your character grew up in town explain what they think of town and why they still live here.

— n/a.

if your character moved here at one point or another, explain what they were thinking when they moved. was it their choice? a parents? how did they feel about moving?

— after being gifted the first of rw wallace’s books while living in new york, etienne knew the town depicted in the story was a place that he desired to be a part of. so, once his lease was up, he opted to move to westmere, commuting to new york during hockey and training season. he’s enjoyed it ever since, definitely no regrets.

what is your character’s earliest memory?

— his earliest memory is from halloween when he was about four years of age. still living in montpellier, his parents took him and his siblings from business to business to do a bit of trick-or-treating, popping in and out of different store fronts asking for candy. that year his parents dressed him up as jason voorhes, finding it comical for his age.

is your character’s family big or small? what is their relationship with their family like?

— etienne has two older siblings, each of them being two years apart. he and his siblings are very close, as well as his parents - they have a family group chat. he definitely gets along with his mother the most, the two of them having a virtual dinner on a weekly basis.

is your character the type to have a lot of good friends or a few really close ones?

— etienne has both ?! a solid amount of good friends, and yet also a tight knit group that he feels that he can be a splash more expressive and vulnerable with when the time comes. he does make a point to insert himself in others’ lives, wanting to be there for truly anyone who may need / want him, but he sometimes finds it difficult for himself to open up to that connection.

what is your character’s life philosophy? how do they see the world?

— with a deep appreciation and love for matthew mcconaughey this video here basically is etienne’s philosophy / way he sees the world in a six minute nut shell. BUT taking things from it, etienne is very realistic and straight to the point - will tell you what’s wrong / what the problem even if it’s a little blunt and borders on the rude end of things. he just doesn’t think living in some delusional realm is the right move for any one by any means. he may come off having a superiority complex when one is asking for his advice, but it’s just cause at the end of the day he thinks he’s being honest / right and by all means helpful, even if the other person doesn’t want to acknowledge it. aside from that, he has a deep appreciation for all forms of life, the earth included - just treating peeps with kindness and the like !!

what are some goals that your character has?

— in regards to his hockey career, he’d like to be awarded the nhl foundation award. fingers crossed he’ll be cleared to return in the following season if all goes well with his recovery, bc he really wants to go into the playoffs and win the stanley cup. he is also hoping to attend the winter olympics in beijing in 2022.

what does a typical day in the life of your character look like?

— a typical day, as of late, for etienne consists of him waking up a touch on the early side to a freshly made pot of coffee, then followed by taking olive on a walk/run around town. after that he will shower, make a bit of breakfast, perhaps check on seb’s chickens ( just to be safe ) and then spend the day either reading or working in his makeshift studio. he enjoys the throwback days offered down at movie magic, so he’ll drop in to watch whatever film is being shown. otherwise, he’s likely with friends - doing whatever can be done in the day.

what does your characters house/room look like? is it messy & cluttered or is it neat & organized?

— for a visual, click here ! his house and room altogether are rather neat and organized. if things are messy, even in the slightest, it’s an indication that something is wrong. he lives with sebastian, and with seb also being rather tidy, the two never have any issues, nor really any conflicting design ideas throughout the home.

what does your character’s typical wardrobe consist of?

— for an overall visual, click here ! etienne enjoys dressing up, give him a lil sweater vest and he’s beaming - he likes to look sharp, and a bit on the clean cut side. he can be a bit adventurous with his wardrobe, but definitely loves a splash of color. on the other side he his more casual looks are a jeans ( flare, skinny, cord ?! the options are endless ), a fun lil graphic tee to spice things up ( he prefers the more ridiculous ones ), and a jacket ?! he’s looking sharp, def won’t be wearing the same thing twice.

what’s a quote that describes your character?

— “ It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. ” ― Theodore Roosevelt

why did you choose your character’s song?

— etienne has wide range of music taste, having bounced around growing up, he’s had various influences and exposures when it comes to what he enjoys listening to when he’s on his own. he really took a nose dive into rock music when he was practicing and developing his hockey skills - enjoy being on the ice and listening to / mentally playing back a power guitar riff doing a game. overall, rock music is the genre that he finds the most “ fun “ and he can be caught, embarrassingly so, doing his own little variations of air guitar. but he really fell in love with eddie van halen and truly believes he’s one of the best guitarists of all time, so van halen is one of his fav karaoke songs - not only to sing, but to simply act out.

#( & ᴛᴀꜱᴋꜱ . )#westmeretask001 #aaaah if this doesn't make sense i meant it dkfjgn

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years

Text

Remnants, Part VIII

Hang in there, friends. It’s not over yet! If you’ve got questions, shoot me an ask and I’ll answer if it won’t spoil the plot : )

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII

Summary: You are in the midst of formulating your dissertation, but you’ve hit a wall. Your doting aunt, Rebecca, has a solution that brings you face to face with Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King. As the connection between you and Ahkmenrah grows, and as the secrets of his ancient tablet unlock, the once-king will find himself faced with a difficult choice.

Thanks so much to @kitkatcronch @kpopperotp12 @seafrost-fangirl @sassystrawberryk @perfect-rami @txmel and @limabein for reading : ) If anyone else wants added to the taglist, let me know. I’ve greatly appreciated the feedback!

Warnings: Character death (sort-of, of course) but it is somewhat graphic.

Your hasty exit did not go unnoticed.

“Oh, Y/N. What happened with Ahkmenrah?” your aunt asked as she sat next to you on the stairs, her voice filled with concern.

You swiped at your cheeks and your nose in an attempt to pull yourself together before you looked at Rebecca. You felt ashamed for leaving her out of all of this and ashamed for crying on the steps of the American Natural History Museum in New York City.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you said in a hushed, miserable voice.

Rebecca’s phone lit up and she glanced down.

“Larry’s with Ahk. He figured, when he saw you run out, he should go check on him.”

“Good. That’s good,” you mumbled, trying to swallow the next wave of tears.

“I feel so horrible, Y/N. This is all my fault!”

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“I knew the two of you were close, but I thought it was a good thing. Ahkmenrah isn’t just a wax figure—he’s human. He needed,” Rebecca paused, narrowing her eyes and pursuing her lips as she thought of how to articulate herself. “He needed a purpose. And when Ahk started working on deciphering his tablet, I figured that you helped give him that purpose, just by being his friend, someone he could relate to.”

“You couldn’t have known, Aunt Becca.”

“But I should have. I mean, look at him. Listen to him. He’s the embodiment of everything you’ve ever loved,” Rebecca explained. “It’s no wonder the two of you fell for each other. I essentially set the stage for a low-budget, kinda weird Rom-Com.”

You huffed, a tiny ghost of a laugh, as Rebecca ran her hand through her hair, clearly feeling guilty.

“You have nothing to feel guilty about. Ahkmenrah and I both knew what we were doing. We talked about it. We ignored logic and embraced the chaotic unknown. I’d say it works out for the characters in about 80% of those Rom-Coms, right?”

“I don’t know if I’ve seen one with this level of a twist in the plot, though.”

“Mmm, maybe a new plot for a Twilight reboot? Forbidden, half-alive boyfriend, stupid girl who makes stupid decisions and feels like death when boyfriend breaks up with her—well, hell. I guess it already is Twilight.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant,” Rebecca said, joking, but seriousness did hang on the edge of her tone.

“I’m not that stupid. I hold birth control as a central part of my belief system.”

“I would hope so, PhD candidate,” Rebecca said, scooting close to you and wrapping her arm around your waist.

You laid your head on her shoulder, her company helping you to feel composed enough to at least get yourself back to your apartment.

“So, what did Ahk say tonight?”

You took a deep breath and summed up what had happened during and after Ryan’s unexpected visit.

Rebecca was quiet for a while; you didn’t need to her to say it because you already knew.

“He’s right,” you said.

“He is right about one thing,” Rebecca began. “You can move forward. You can, eventually, forget about him and live the life of your choosing.”

“But I don’t want to,” you said, feeling hopeless.

“Only time can fix that, sweetheart,” Rebecca replied with a sigh as she kissed the top of your head.

“Did Larry say anything else?”

Rebecca picked up her phone, but there were no new messages.

“Ahkmenrah and I have something that we were working on and need to finish, so I’ll be back tomorrow night. I hope,” you stopped, not wanting to divulge what you considered to be Ahk’s secret about the tablet. “I hope it will bring us back to where we were; I can bury my feelings. I can be just his friend. Friends do love each other, after all . . .”

You trailed off as your eyes searched your Aunt’s, desperately hoping to see the spark of agreeance within them. Instead, all you saw was sadness, maybe even pity.

You stood up, fixing your clothes and adjusting your purse.

“Let me take you home,” Rebecca said.

You shook your head.

“I need to walk. Need to clear my mind. I’ll be fine—you know everywhere between here and the village is safe.”

Rebecca sighed, “Stay alert. Don’t get lost in your head, and text me when you get inside your apartment.”

You hugged Rebecca and she squeezed you back, reluctant to let you go.

“Thank you, Aunt Rebecca. For everything.”

Rebecca gave you a loving smile and watched as you crossed the street to enter the subway. When you glanced back up, she gave you a wave before she turned and headed back into the museum.

* * * * *

Maybe you were delusional, but you really thought when you and Ahk returned to see his death that he would change his mind—after all, this was the kind of experience that could really bring two people together, the kind of experience that could really make someone realize just how important it is to choose happiness over everything else. At least you thought so, given there really was no precedent for hopping through a doorway into a 4,000-year-old reanimated pharaoh’s memories.

Once you latched the deadbolt, you sent Rebecca a quick text. She responded immediately, stating that she was happy you were home safe. You thought about asking her how Ahk was, but as you looked around your apartment, the memory from the night you brought him here assaulted you.

You saw him, standing in your living room, dripping and shivering.

You saw the heat in his eyes as you touched him, and you reached up to touch your lips as you remembered the passion of your first, real kiss.

When you walked into your bedroom to change into an oversized t-shirt, you gazed out of the window, watching the flickering lights of the city, listening to the noise of the streets that siphoned into your room, filtered and muffled through the glass.

When you climbed into bed, you could almost feel Ahkmenrah’s body on top of yours, almost see the intensity he delivered with his eyes as he slid into your body. Everything, well, almost everything about that night had been perfect, and you thought that it was that night, there in the underground café when Ahk had kissed you because you promised to teach him to read, it was then that you fell in love with him.

The tears came slowly this time, sliding stealthily out of the corners of your eyes as you continued to watch the reflection of lights glittering in the window panes.

The only thing keeping you from sinking into an actual pit of despair was that you were going to see him again. Ahkmenrah was trusting you with his one last secret, and you were going to prove your love by being selfless, by providing him with support as a friend. He would see, afterward, how much he meant to you, that you really would do anything he asked of you.

* * * * *

Ahk is dressed in his full wardrobe, his golden breast plate that he rarely wore was glittering in the soft lights of his exhibit, and his face was nearly unreadable; the only emotion that seemed to be swirling beneath his regal expression was apprehension.

For the first time, Ahkmenrah did not greet you with a smile, and you felt a little piece of your heart break. But being in denial had its perks; you told yourself it was simply because he was about to witness his own death. Anyone would be stingy with their smiles in a circumstance like that.

“Are you ready?” Ahkmenrah asked solemnly.

“Yes. Are you?”

Ahkmenrah gave a firm nod. He removed his tablet from the wall and rearranged the hieroglyphs. Ahkmenrah spoke, the door opened, and the two of you walked in, knowing death was waiting on the other side.

* * * * *

Of course Kahmunrah chose to murder his brother during the Festival of Min, one of the Egyptians most robust celebrations to praise the god for his fertile blessings that allowed their crops to have flourished. The swath of grain that Ahkmenrah, as pharaoh, had cut to start the celebration is laid on top of a small pedestal in the center of his table. Everyone is giddy, feeling secure in the future of their great nation and in their young, virile king.

Kahmunrah sits to Ahkmenrah’s right, clearly secure in his position as not only prince, but as the vizier to his little brother.

You turn to Ahk and question why Kahmunrah held such a high position.

“Despite his shortcomings, he was my brother. I trusted him. I loved him. And at no time during my reign did I ever feel threatened by him. He made the perfect royal advisor; we disagreed, at times, about foreigners and war, but he always acquiesced to my decisions. I appreciated his passion for our land. He hid his—”

“He hid his crazy really fucking well,” you interrupted.

“Yes. He truly did. And I only know that now after revisiting so many of my memories and entering his thoughts. Something inside of him snapped the day my father made me king.”

You return your eyes to the celebration.

By this time, Ahk’s marriage to Sitmut is arranged. It is strange to watch Ahk with his future bride; when they greet one another, he cups her face and looks at her lovingly before kissing her forehead. The love that flows between them is palpable, but it feels familial. No wonder the pharaohs kept harems or elected to have a secondary wife; as important as the propagation of the family line was, incest merely served as a means to an end.

As you watch the festivities, you can see memory-Ahk, flirting with pretty girls, drinking, laughing, and it is clear he is at the very height of his power. Sitmut stays amongst her female companions, and you can’t help but notice she pays a lot of attention to one very beautiful girl. As they sit, drinking wine and eating sweets, their thighs press together on the stairs, while their glances linger just a little too long.

Your heart aches for Sitmut, trapped into a marriage and a false lifestyle, all in the name of duty.

Ahkmenrah’s memory becomes a little hazy as he consumes more and more wine, but the celebration shows no sign of ending. In fact, while Ahk’s vision blurs, his hearing amplifies, the music and carousing grow into a crescendo that blocks out almost any other sound.

And this is when you see Kahmunrah conferring with four, very large, very muscular priests behind the feasting table, their little party just hidden in the shadows of a large column.

Ahkmenrah’s parents are lying, lazily together on a set of stairs, alternating between watching the party and exchanging soft kisses. They are completely enveloped in a shroud of bliss, their sense of security evidenced by the fact that not many guards are stationed throughout the celebration.

A young man covered in enough jewels to denote his importance approaches King Ahkmenrah. He leans in, intently conveying a message.

Ahk’s brow furrows and without hesitation, he exits the room while the young man goes back to the party, quickly getting lost in the mass of people drinking, dancing, and laughing.

Ahkmenrah’s guards, six of them in total, follow the young king.

Kahmunrah’s priests slink out of the shadows and head in the same direction.

A low grown of terror escapes your throat, making the impending horror of what happens next all the more real.

You and the real Ahkmenrah rush after the priests, running to catch up with them. You can’t hear anything other than the din of the party, and Ahk’s head swivels from left to right as he strains to listen, his brows furrowed as he strains to remember.

And then you hear it. The sound of something gurgling, the sound of a body falling, followed by another thump and another and another.

“This way!” you say quickly as you take off into the hall on the right.

The hall ends in a garden similar to the one that Ahkmenrah had shown you on your first visit to his memory. Even though it is night, the courtyard is well lit, torches blazing along the interior walls and atop lamps that line the garden’s many pathways.

As you get nearer, you slip, Ahkmenrah catching you before you fall onto a stone that is covered in thick puddles of blood.

You gasp and raise your hands to your mouth in horror. All of Ahkmenrah’s guards are slain, their throats slit so wide that the blood was forming little rivers in the cracks of the stones.

The priests must have been practiced in the art of killing silently and quickly because it is clear they took out Ahk’s guards, two by two, until the final two turned to see why there were no footsteps behind them.

Kahmunrah chose his assassins well.

By the time you reach the center of the garden, the four priests, covered in blood have memory-Ahkmenrah, facedown. They hold him in place by kneeling on his wrists and ankles, and one priest reaches over to shove Ahk’s face into the sandy dirt of the garden while the other three work to strip him of all signs of royalty: his crown, his collar, his belt, and even his shoes, leaving him only in his short, thin, linen skirt.

Ahk’s teeth are bared, the veins along his neck and in his arms bulge with his efforts to escape.

Sliding between you and the real Ahkmenrah, Kahmun enters the garden. As he speaks, Ahk begins translating, causing you to jump because you had been so intently watching the scene in front of you.

“Little brother.”

Memory-Ahk freezes as he hears Kahmunrah’s voice.

“Kah! Help me!”

“Turn him over,” Kahmun commands in a cold voice.

The priests quickly flip Ahk, settling again on his wrists and his ankles. Now you can see his dirt-smeared face as it thrashes from side to side, his eyes wide and panicked, and his hands and feet purpling from the pressure of the priests holding him in place.

In that moment, it occurs to you how like Jesus Ahkmenrah looks, his feet and wrists pinned, his forehead bleeding, either from rocks in the dirt or from the ferocity with which his crown was removed. His dark skin and his curls are covered in dirt and sand, and Ahk’s skin is smeared in patches from the blood that transferred from the priests’ murderous hands.

“Kahmunrah, please,” Ahk says slowly as he sees the now unhidden crazed look in his older brother’s eyes.

Kahmunrah says nothing and only watches his baby brother struggle against the muscular priests, their muscles flexing as they increase their hold on the young king.

“Why?” Ahkmenrah whispers, as the reality of what’s to happen sinks in. “I gave you everything.”

Kah barks out a laugh, a high-pitched, terrible noise that hangs on the edges of the night, echoing in your ears.

“Gave? GAVE?! You STOLE what was mine! Our foolish parents who favored you, loved their precious baby Ahkmenrah more than Egypt itself, made a grave, grave error. But, no worries. They will pay for that error tonight, as well. But know that you die first, little brother, so I can show them your body. So I can listen to the sound of mother’s heart breaking. So I can watch the light, the joy finally go out of father’s eyes.”

Despite Ahkmenrah’s best attempt to remain composed in the face of death, his eyes fill with tears as Kahmunrah describes his planned horrors.

“Just kill me, Kah. Let Apep claim me but please do not hurt our parents.”

“Things will go according to my plans now, Ahkmen. You’ll die, here, in the dirt, like the worthless, second son you SHOULD have been.”

Kah drops down and settles across Ahk’s hips. He counts up Ahkmenrah’s ribs, looking for a particular spot.

Without another word, Kahmun sinks the knife into Ahkmenrah’s heart and twists his wrist, ensuring his brother’s death. Kahmunrah pulls the knife out, stands, and puts it back in his belt, not even bothering to wipe his brother’s blood from the blade.

Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King, dies like he ruled, a good king who cared more about others than himself. Instead of begging for his own life to be spared, he pleaded for the lives of the people he loved the most.

Memory-Ahk gasps as the knife is pulled from his heart, his eyes bulging as his body dies. The priests stand, and Ahkmenrah’s limbs only twitch in the dirt as the blood escapes out of his chest. He quickly loses consciousness and his eyes lose their light as his last breath struggles out of him, the blood from his heart soaking into the dirt beneath him.

You know, that for the rest of your life, you will never forget the image of life leaving Ahkmenrah’s eyes.

At the instant the blade sinks into memory-Ahkmenrah’s chest, real Ahk’s hand flies to his heart and his knees buckle. You reach out, catching him and guiding him to his knees as he watches the blood flow out of the gaping hole in his memory’s chest.

And as the blood ebbs into the dirt, the memory itself begins to fade, greying around the edges and the commands of Kahmunrah are silent, even though you can see his lips moving. Ahkmenrah is frozen on his knees, his eyes trained on his lifeless body.

��“Ahk! We have to go!”

He doesn’t respond.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you mutter under your breath as the scene continues to darken; the memory is now like a tunnel and only Ahkmenrah’s lifeless body serves as the single pinpoint of light left. The darkness is coming and coming fast.

You yank the tablet out of your backpack and hope to the gods that it will listen to you.

You scramble the tiles into the same order as the ones that are marked “Return” in Ahk’s notebook, and you speak the words you had heard Ahk speak to end your other adventures within his memory.

Sure enough, the door appears.

You grab Ahkmenrah under his arms and haul him toward the door.

He shakes you off, his movements damn near feral.

“No! My parents! I have to save them! I have to warn them! I can change it—I know I can!” Ahk says, pulling at the sides of his cape and twisting his hands, panicking.

“Ahk, it’s done and you can’t change the past because this is your memory. They’re gone, and we have to go, now!”

“No,” he says, looking wildly about at the increasing darkness. “No, no, no, no,” he chants, hysterically in ancient Egyptian.

You eye him carefully and know you only have one shot. You position yourself between him and the door, and in a swift movement, you pivot to the other side of Ahk and push him as hard as you can, jumping after him as the door begins to recede.

* * * * *

You both landed in a sprawling heap on the museum floor. Ahkmenrah’s crown skittered across the stone, his Wesekh’s clasp shattered and beads pooled under him. He’d also lost his sandals and they were nowhere to be seen. You must have tackled him right the fuck out of his shoes.

You were breathing heavily, and the remnants of tears glistened on your face. Ahk’s eyes connected with yours as he began to gasp for breath, his lungs clutching for air.

You scrambled over to him, grasping his shoulders and sitting him upright. You reached to unhook the pins that held his armor in place, pulling it off of him, letting it clang to the floor.

“Come on, Ahk, just breath, in through your nose, out through your mouth, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Concentrate on my words, come on. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

You repeated the mantra until Ahk was breathing normally enough. He reached up and held his hand over his heart, and you followed, threading your fingers with his.

“He can’t touch you now, Ahkmenrah. It’s done. You’re safe.”

“You’re safe,” you repeated as you pulled him into your arms, stroking his hair as he began to cry, clutching onto your arms as his tears soaked through your shirt.

You had no idea how long you sat there with your pharaoh in your arms, clinging to you like a drowning man, but you held him and rocked him, saying nothing other than a quiet whispering of, “It’s okay, Ahk. You’re safe now.”

Ahkmenrah took a deep, shaky breath and slowly pulled away. You lifted his head and swiped at the wetness covering his face. You kissed his eyelids, tasting the salt from his tears, and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

“I could never have done this without you, Y/N. Thank you.”

“I owed you, remember? And I would do anything for you, Ahkmenrah. Anything.”

“Truly?”

“Truly,” you said with a small smile, hope quickening the beating of your heart.

Ahkmenrah stood, gathering strength before he spoke with authority.

“Go. Go now and do not return.”

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this. You shot to your feet and clutched at his shoulders, holding on to him, the role of the drowning man now reversed.

“No, Ahkmenrah! I meant what I said. I’m in love with you. I can’t just leave knowing that you’re here, right here,” you said, placing your palm in the middle of his chest.

Ahkmenrah took your hand and lifted it to kiss your palm.

“Finish your dissertation. Go to Cairo—it’s where you belong.”

“I could have you transferred there! There’s a huge movement in the community to restore artifacts to their home territories and—”

Ahkmenrah looked at you with such sadness it stopped you in the middle of your plea.

“Y/N, that is what I am now. An artifact, a remnant of the past.”

“You’re real! You’re fucking real,” you said, your voice breaking as you pushed his chest hard enough to cause him to step back. “You said you fell in love with me only after I saw you as a real person, not as some historical thing,” you finished, gesticulating wildly.

“I never said I was in love with you, Y/N. I am a reanimated mummy, an artifact. This is all that I choose to be.”

Every ounce of fight that had been coursing through your body came to such an abrupt halt that you swooned backward, and Ahkmenrah reached out to steady you, his hands firmly grasping your upper arms.

He was right. Never once did Ahkmenrah say those words. It was you—you who had said them, and you who had believed he felt the same way.

You shook your head, refusing to believe that he was choosing to see himself like this, as what you had fought to reconcile with from the beginning, as what you could no longer even remotely see him as now. Ahkmenrah was choosing to become an exhibit at the museum, choosing to become nothing more than a wax figure.

And just as suddenly as the fight had gone out of you, a realization struck you. Ahkmenrah never had a chance to choose; he didn’t choose to become king; he didn’t choose to be brutally murdered by his brother; he didn’t choose to be wed to Sitmut; he didn’t choose to become the master of the tablet; he didn’t choose to come back to life.

But he could choose now—and he was choosing to let you go, to let you live a full life. He was choosing to stay safe, to be under the guardianship and protection of the museum that he now thought of as his home.

“You understand,” Ahkmenrah said, a spark of his normal self showing through his pain.

“I do,” you said, holding his gaze, your body damn near lifeless as he still held onto your upper arms.

“Goodbye, Y/N. Thank you for everything you have given me, and I hope that one day, you will accept this as the right choice.”

Your eyes filled with tears for the umpteenth time in the last 48 hours, and you kissed Ahkmenrah; you kissed him with every ounce of love that you felt for him; you poured everything you had into that kiss.

You only stopped kissing him when you couldn’t breathe anymore, and after your lips pulled slowly away, he rested his forehead against yours.

You slid further into his arms, one last time, and he squeezed you back before pushing you away.

“Please. Go,” Ahkmenrah said with a steady voice.

You couldn’t look at him again because you knew if you did, you’d climb into his sarcophagus and only the Anubis statues would be able to remove you, probably by using their spears to turn you into a large piece of Shish Kabob.

For the second night in a row, you sobbed on the front steps of the American Museum of Natural History in New York City.

But this night was the last.

* * * * *

“You did the right thing, Ahk,” Larry spoke up as he stepped out from behind the back wall of the exhibit.

“I love her, Larry. I had to let her go.”

“I know, Ahk. I know.”

#Ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah fanfiction #natm ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah imagine #ahkmenrah x reader #female reader #ahk #NATM #rami malek #rami malek's character

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zoey-wades · 5 years

Text

Honeymoon (King Liam x MC)

Rating: M (Drug Use, Substance Abuse, Violence)

Characters: Dark!Liam Rys x Dark!Lyra Frasier (MC)

Summary: Fresh out of school and trying to figure things out, Lyra Frasier spends her weekdays going to a job she hates and her weekends in a drug fueled haze. And then she meets golden boy Liam. Lyra soon realizes that the violent underbelly of New York City’s elite may be more than she can handle.

Word Count: 2,155

Author’s Notes: This is sometimes a bit hard to write for, because you have to be in the right headspace for it. I'm finally getting around to it. This is the most I’ve written in a while, and I’m finishing at almost 1 am.

-x-

O1. Bad Habits

Lyra couldn't, for the life of her, figure out how she ended up vomiting in the bathroom of some East Village hole-in-the-wall.

Actually, she understood the vomit. She tested her luck with the Jolly Rancher shots, and she paid the price. Her cell phone --which was covered in some unknown sticky substance-- told her that it was close to 4am. Which meant that there was a whole two or three hours that she couldn't account for. The last she could remember, she was going shot for shot with her dealer at a dive bar near Tribeca. She was feeling pretty good until...Oh.

The sound of the heavy bass beyond the stall door made her head throb, and she realized that she was laying in a heap on the dirty bathroom floor. She managed to mostly throw up in the toilet, and she still had her purse and cash to get home.

Lyra: 1. Life: 0.

The thudding of the bass quickened, and someone was shouting something about peeing. As the fogginess of the drugs cleared a little, she realized that the bass was someone knocking on the door.

Wiping the tiredness from her eyes, she winced when she realized that she smudged her makeup into her eye. Along with whatever was on the bathroom floor. At this point, she couldn't bring herself to care. She'd already pressed her face to it when she passed out. No use in being anal now. Pulling herself to her feet, she used toilet paper to wipe her mouth and eyes, and flushed every biohazard down the toilet.

New Message:

“Lyra...it’s me. I saw you at the bar with Maxwell. ... how you deal with shit, why can’t you just...? Call me back.”

New Message:

“...I swear to fucking God, if you don’t...in an hour I’m going to come get you. I can figure out where you are...”

New Message:

“...this is why I cheated. You just don’t know how to let shit go. I’m done.”

Lyra wanted to cry. In fact, she could feel herself trying to =will the tears forward. But, ultimately, she just felt tired and dehydrated, and very very confused. Sitting atop an overturned crate in the alleyway behind the bar, she listened to the last of the messages, which sounded weirdly distorted and slow to her ears. She dropped her heavy, clouded head in her hands. Seeing Justin that night was bad enough. Having him call to remind her of all the ways she was a fuckup was just the shit icing on the shit cake that was her life.

She knew that she wasn’t the greatest girlfriend. She had really terrible bouts of depression that took a while to get out of. And, sure, she could’ve been more attentive to his needs. But she was trying her best. Up until he broke up with her, she thought she was getting better. She was going to therapy, and taking her medication. She hadn’t gone out partying in months, and she came straight home after work.

Maybe she wasn’t making as much progress as she thought. That was obvious, based on where she was and how she ended up there. She chuckled humorlessly.

It was now 5 A.M.

The sky was a deep shade of purple, and every blink seemed to make the colors more vibrant. Her vision doubled, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She realized that her shift was in three hours, and she had to sober up to the best of her ability before heading in. The scattered conversations of the exiting bar goers drifted away, and she considered calling an Uber when she heard harsh whispers further down the alleyway, away from the street. Suddenly, there was a loud crash as if someone was pushed into something, followed by the sickening sound of someone being punched. Drug-fueled curiosity crept into Lyra, and she considered looking to see what was going on and calling the police.

Then she remembered that she was Black and decided to mind her business. Steeling herself, she took a few deep breaths and rose to her feet... then fell on her ass on top of the crate again. She felt like she could feel the Earth spinning on its axis. She wondered if, maybe, she could run fast enough to match the speed of the spinning. Since, clearly, it was moving so fast that she was losing her balance.

Kind of like those spinning carnival rides.

Clumsily rising up from the crate she attempted to run in her heeled boots, then stumbled a few feet to the curb of the street before being overcome with the severe dizziness she felt earlier in the night. Leaning up against the opposite brick wall, she vomited on the sidewalk, and collapsed on the ground in a puddle of dirty rain water.

-x-Liam-x-

This wasn’t at all how he wanted to start his weekend. He got a call about a mole among his father’s ranks. And once again, he had to be the one to handle it. He could understand that his father was older now, and therefore less inclined to pay attention. But, Jesus Christ if Liam wasn’t tired of constantly picking up after him.

Drake found him first, pissing drunkenly in the alley outside the bar. Neither Liam nor his best friend were into the idea of fucking up someone in such a public place. It left a lot of questions, and it left the potential for witnesses. But both men were already annoyed with the fact that they had to follow this guy for hours, in the dead of night, before getting him alone. Earlier, they watched as he approached a young, dark skinned woman, clad in ripped denim jeans, a tank top, and a leather jacket. Her messy, dark hair tumbled around her shoulders, and she cocked her head to the side, curiously. She was clearly already far gone by the time Sebastian Clark approached her, but even she could sense the leery nature of dad’s associate. He was about twice her age, with a steely gaze and abrasive nature. He smiled strangely at her, rubbing her arm, and she swayed slowly, scrunching up her nose before walking away.

Liam noticed him put something in her drink before she left. Which made him feel a little less badly about what he was about to do to him.

Now, it was just the three of them facing each other in the alleyway, with Clark looking as if he’d just seen a ghost.

“Damn, Seb,” Drake tutted, shaking his head and smirking, “What are you doing man? Stealing money, tipping the feds, and drugging girls? It doesn’t stop with you, huh?”

The older man raised his hands in defense, and took a step back, tripping over his own feet, “I don’t know what you’re talking about man. I ain’t no snitch.”

Liam shoved his hands in his pockets and took three slow strides towards the man, “So you admit that you’ve been stealing and drugging girls. Or did I just imagine your account transfers, and you dropping a pill in that girl’s drink?”

“I-I didn’t...”

“Ah, so I’m delusional now, is that it?” Liam raised his brows, glancing at Drake, who kept his eyes trained on the bumbling man before them, “You hear that, Walker? Apparently, I imagined all of this shit.”

“Interesting...” Drake shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, and produced a pair of brass knuckles, “Maybe he forgot. I think I needa jog his memory.”

At this, Clark turned and tried to make a run for it. To where, Liam wasn’t altogether sure. The alley stopped at a dead end, and he knew Clark wasn’t a fighter. He was just making Liam even more frustrated with his cowardice. Pulling the knife from his sheath, he threw it, taking aim at his back. It pierced Clark’s skin with expert precision, and he fell into a couple of metal trash bins, toppling them over.

As the two younger men approached, Clark groaned and began begging for his life, mumbling something about his loyalty and how long he’d been with the family. At this, Drake laughed and landed a lazy kick to the man’s side.

“Shut the fuck up and take this beating like a man. You shoulda thought about that shit before you stole from us and tried to get us killed.”

Drake approached him, and he raised his hands again, “Wait, wait, what about Constantine? I’m his oldest friend!”

Liam felt the anger swell in his chest. He had the audacity to mention him after betraying his trust and stealing millions? Liam landed the first punch, squarely in the side of Clark’s head.

“You’re dead to him,” Liam coolly replied.

And with that, Drake took over, landing punch after punch until nothing was left but pulp and matter smeared on the concrete.

“We can’t just leave her here, Man...Look at her. She’s shivering, ” Liam looked down at the passed out woman, drenched in dirty water, “Also, someone might ask questions, and the cleanup crew is on its way.”

Drake groaned and ran his bruised hands through his dark hair, “You’re such a fucking softie, I swear.”

Removing his leather jacket, Liam placed it over her and lifted her up into his arms, carefully. It was the same woman that Clark drugged at the bar, and he felt a pang of remorse. Sure, he wasn’t directly involved. But Clark was a part of his circle, and he felt a sense of responsibility. Drake tapped away at his phone, then glanced over at the girl before raising his brows and shaking his head.

“What?” Liam asked, leaning up against the wall for support. He didn’t realize how tired he was.

“That’s Justin’s girl,” Drake casually remarked, “Or was. I think he ditched her for some Upper East Side chick.”

“No shit?” Liam looked down at the girl in his arms, feeling a deep sense of sadness for her. She’d clearly had a rough couple of years, based on what he heard about Justin’s relationships with women. A sleek, black Lincoln van pulled up to the curb, and Liam placed the unconscious woman in the third row of the car, making sure to watch her head. He slid into the second row, and Drake followed.

It was on the ride back to the suburbs that she woke up with a deep groan and a sharp wince. Liam watched as she took note of her surroundings, and she jumped when her wide brown eyes landed on him.

“W-what?” Her hoarse voice croaked as she pressed her hand to the tinted window, “What the fuck is going on? Where am I? Who the fuck are you?” She squinted, “Did you fucking kidnap me?”

Liam raised his hands in defense, “Whoa! No! Jesus--!”

But she was on a rampage.

“I swear to God, I will jump right out of this fucking car. I’ve seen enough movies to know how to tuck and roll! Let me out, right now!”

“We’re on the highway...”

“I don’t care if we’re on the fucking moon, let me out of this car! Now!”

“I told you we shoulda left her there,” Drake mumbled, resting his chin on his fist.

Liam ignored his friend, choosing instead to try and calm the anxious young woman down, “Look, no one is kidnapping you. I’m Liam, this is Drake. You passed out on the street, and we found you. We wanted to make sure you were safe...that’s all. No harm done.”

He hoped that she could read the sincerity in his voice. Because, from her perspective, this probably looked really bad. He didn’t take into consideration how this would appear, and that was a huge mistake on his part.

“I’m sorry if we scared you,” he continued, calmly, “It’s just...it wouldn’t have been right to leave you there.”

She eyed him warily and frowned, raising a shaking hand to her forehead, “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“That’s because a cockroach named Sebastian drugged you at the bar before you left,” Drake stated matter-of-factly. For the first time, he turned to face her, and Liam noticed something flash behind his eyes before he trained his disposition again, “Instead of waking up in a dirty puddle, you woke up in a luxury car with a bottle of water and two handsome guys. So, you’re welcome for that.”

She blinked slowly as if registering everything he said. Then she lay back down across the seat, pulling her knees to her chest, “For you, handsome is a bit of a stretch, but thanks for the water, I guess. And also for not being terrible and leaving me in the street. ”

She paused.

“So where’s this Sebastian guy, anyway? Did the cops take him?”

Liam and Drake exchanged a look, and Drake turned away again.

“Sure,” he said.

#playchoices #king liam x mc #the royal romance #choices trr #naja writes #honeymoon**

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mimiplaysgames · 6 years

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What Episode Luna is Going to Be About (Or... how to drastically change a character)

This post is going to be a theory, a critique, and a follow-up of my previous post, Why Lunafreya Can’t Be Fixed. In this previous post, I go into some serious detail about how a character like Luna is not possible to fix based on how the writers have designed her. After the new DLC line-up reveal, I maintain this position, in light of my own three theories about what this episode is going to be about. I do not think that my theories are of tin-hat-conspiracy quality. Professionally, I believe in organic and deeply human writing and storytelling, (I can’t help it, I am classically trained and hold degrees in writing and literature), and I try to maintain this standard in my theorizing. I will discuss what my theories will be about, what this means for her overall character “growth” or “development,” and what this means for the direction of these new DLC from a writer’s standpoint.

TL;DR: Luna is going to get seriously retconned, and this is the only way for the writers to pitch a meaningful story to tell about her.

1) Ghost Luna

I wanted to get this one out of the way because it is the most far-fetched, yet the easiest to tackle from a technical development standpoint (because they do not have to write an alternate reality where she lived, which takes more resources). The statement that her fate is something that “not even death can free her from” really bothers me here. What is the reason to include this statement in the episode description? Ravus goes as far as to mention this in Episode Ignis. Does this mean we are going to play Ghost Luna? How is that going to play out exactly, what are the game mechanics? Are we going to fight pre-demons in the Astral plane? How does this mesh with her ghostly appearances?

Keep in mind that her ghostly appearances have already been retconned in Royal Edition, although there is no indication as to what the limits of her appearances are. Before, it seemed like her appearance was unnatural, hence why she disappears so quickly. In Royal Edition, we suddenly have a talking ghost with magical powers, and no discernible reason why she would disappear then.

Then there is the story arc in this option. A ghost, by normal folkloric standards, will continue to have ties to the earthly realm because of deep-seated regrets, or unfinished business. If she has unfinished business as an Oracle in death (and has the power to make shit happen) then.... why didn’t she do anything for the 10+ years that Noctis was asleep? If she regretted leading Noctis like a lamb to a slaughter, why support him in Royal Edition? All of these options would mean a serious retconning of her by illogical standards.

Now let’s discuss two more believable options...

2) This is a story about her activities during the events of Final Fantasy XV

In other words, this is going to be about what she is doing during the base game. I have already discussed in my previous post that there isn’t much of a story to tell in this aspect, which means that this would require some serious retconning, in light of this sentence: “Her battle to save the one she loves overturns the destiny dealt to the Lucian king.” This statement REALLY bothers me.

First of all, we do not see her make any action to save Noctis from his fate in the game. His fate was to die. She didn’t do anything to thwart this, and IF ANYTHING, egged him on in Royal Edition. This is also emphasized by the fact that she knew he was going to die (I mean really, her crying about never seeing him again, Gentiana talking to her about how Regis cried over the fate of his son, Pryna carrying the prophecy of him dying, etc.). She knew, and she lead him to slaughter anyway (that is not love, btw).

So what does it mean that she wants to save the one she loves, and this overturns his fate/destiny? If we are to keep the canon of the original game, and if this takes place during the same timeline as the game, then this means that she didn’t know he was going to die and has decided to do things behind the scenes that we didn’t know about to stop his fate. Which would be the most bullshit retcon on this list (SINCE SHE KNEW) and quite defiant of the logical understanding of her character and her role in the game. This leads me to discuss some of my intuitive (and possibly my most tin-hat) thoughts about her character development, and how she was built the way she is (from a writer’s perspective). This is where I will strongly criticize the approach that Hajime Tabata has taken with her.

I do believe that Tabata is very sensitive about criticism over Luna. It’s why all of the recent additions and changes to her address her most vocal critics. One of the most vocal criticisms is that she and Noctis are not in love, so he has to hammer away at a dead horse to the point of obnoxiousness (such as giving her the cover of Royal Edition, the repetition and literal spelling-out of her love for Noctis, the update of her train scene with Noctis where Tabata felt the need to make it more dramatic, naming songs attributed to NoctxLuna like “Lost Love,” “True Love,” and “Moonlit Melodies,” etc.), and his marketing decisions that suggest this major role that she does not have in the game (Luna edition of the PS4, song lyrics that mention her, her strong appearance in most official art, Luna edition of the NVIDIA harddrive, and on and on and on...). It’s almost as if her PR is what emphasizes of her importance in the story, because the actual story does a shit job of doing it. Another common criticism of her is that she is evil for leading Noctis to his death without telling him. Keep in mind that Luna is essentially designed to be perfect and free from criticism. Tabata tries to legitimize this by making everyone in the world either adore her, or hold her in high regard. This is not a creator that understands human complexity, and the way he keeps throwing her in our faces and plastering her in all of the advertising, especially in Royal Edition, when she had four minutes of screen time, and when she is still inconsequential, is an ego trip on his part. A writer/creator/director is not supposed to do that. Furthermore, the fact that he felt the need to spell out her love for Noctis is insulting to the player - yes, we can tell that she loves him, we aren’t dumb. Spelling it out doesn’t validate their love or convince critics that it’s real.

I do not think, therefore, that he can tolerate such criticism over her and her relationship to Noctis. Which is another problem with this retcon: if she still knew that Noctis was going to die in this story arc, and decides to save him from it, then she ultimately makes a giant turnaround against her religious indoctrination and defies the gods, which is in strict contrast to what we know of her.

I mean, we are talking about a character who is so involved with her religious indoctrination that she gives a speech to a public, telling them directly that the gods are watching over them, minutes before she wakes one up and it destroys the city and subsequently kills a bunch of people. We are talking about a character whose religious indoctrination is so important to her, that this is THE ONLY THING SHE TALKS TO NOCTIS ABOUT - as children, in her death scene, and in their new reunion. Despite the Astrals’ abuse of the people, she still has delusional blind faith in their protection anyway and in spite of obvious evidence to the contrary, so it doesn’t make sense for her to defy them.

I also think that the development team does not have the resources to address the quagmire that is the Astrals, which is why they have already been retconned. Attributing all of the ills of the world to the Astrals, and blaming them for the Starscourge (being that their falling out was thought to be the cause of it) cannot be an acceptable criticism, because then it means that the development team would have to explain why Noctis would decide to die for them when he was commanded to. They don’t have a good reason for this if the Astrals are depicted as the cause of the whole problem. So the blame was shifted to Ardyn in the 1.16 patch, and Ifrit became more of a sympathetic figure.

And here is where I touch upon another flaw in her overall character design that I did not touch upon in my previous post. Blaming the gods for the Starscourge also puts blame on Luna for having faith in such abusive figures, which is also unacceptable because she is designed to be perfect. It is not acceptable to question Luna’s beliefs because the game paints her to be a character that is righteous about everything that is happening around her, and she has to be correct about the prophecies (and Florence + the Machine’s song “Too Much is Never Enough” hammers this away by saying that Luna is “right” for doing what she did). Nyx is the only character to criticize her and Regis, and she “corrects” him by implying that the countless sacrifices made in Insomnia are needed for the good of the world. The concept, then, that she will defy the gods is very strange. Ravus defies her beliefs, and look what happened to him. The Glaives in Comrades defied the gods by abandoning their king, and are called heretics or the like in need of redemption. You don’t defy the gods, which means that Luna, as their official bitch spokesperson, cannot be wrong. In other words, Luna defying the gods in the canonicity of the original story can’t happen without it being a terrible contradiction.

Which leads me to...

3) This is an alternate reality where Luna is the most retconned

By alternate reality, I can mean different things. She either lives in Altissia, or she makes different choices by defying the gods altogether and not go down the same path that she did in the game (although, defying the gods in this alternate timeline will then open its own can of worms that will have fans debating about their use and purpose in the original...).

This is arguably the easiest way to make her consequential to the plot (for more on her lack of importance to the story of Final Fantasy XV, please read ooc-but-stylish’s post on her plot progression, which is much more eloquent than I can ever hope to be). It is interesting here how her DLC is titled “The Choice of Freedom,” another sensitivity to the criticism that Luna had no actual choice in the game because she behaved as a pawn to the gods, and just kind of did whatever the plot told her to. I address her lack of choice in my previous post, as well as ooc-but-stylish.

I do believe this is also a reaction to fans’ desire for her to be selfish (which is strange - it is already selfish of her to not tell Noctis anything, which she had many chances to do so because they shared a notebook). People were expecting her and Noctis to defy their fates because they were unfair, and find another way to bring light back into the world. If the option to defy the gods is what fans want though, then they are asking for a retcon. I have discussed the possibility of putting Luna in a catch-22 in my post, where she is changed beyond what is already understood of her.

This kind of suggests that if we were to make her consequential to the plot, and take action that would seriously change the events of Final Fantasy XV, then this means that she will be changed to the point where we stop recognizing her as the Luna we know, and change into a completely different Luna (and not in the organic-character-development-way).

Looking back on my previous post, I realize that Kingsglaive Luna was very reckless and suicidal, which makes no sense in comparison to Game Luna, who is concerned about completing her role as Oracle (nor does it make sense... how does losing Regis and Insomnia mean that she lost everything if she knew that Noctis had already left? If she died being so reckless, wouldn’t that mean that she can’t do her duty?). Anyway, I am trying to say that if she changed that much, and being that she will continue to change so much, we will certainly have a third Luna in our hands, as opposed to a character learning throughout her journey and making changes to her own priorities.

I said in my previous post that it is not possible to develop Luna for proper character development, and I do believe that this option is the only way to attempt this. This doesn’t help her apparent uselessness, however - if she is still inconsequential to the original plot of FFXV, then this retcon does not justify it, nor will it fix her.

This option also supports the concept of coming close to a grand finale that supports an idealized ending for the characters, although it will take the most work. This option would therefore be the build-up to the payoff that will then become Episode Noctis (meaning, Episode Luna is going to put all of the alternate new plot into place that Episode Noctis will solve).

So then, here are the common themes that address all three options...

Her relationship with Noctis will still need some serious work, and spelling it out isn’t good enough. There’s a good reason why there are so many Nyx and Luna shippers out there - it is because they have what fans interpret to be sexual tension between them, and they collaborate with each other. I have already discussed in my previous post why a relationship between her and Noctis will not add to her development because it isn’t possible to develop her based on her character arc. At the same time, I do not believe that putting more time and effort into building their relationship will make much difference, because then it continues to repeat certain things that we already know: one, that she is obsessive over Noctis, and two, that she cannot exist outside of Noctis. The former means that her relationship with Noctis is toxic and abusive: rsasai has an amazing post about why this relationship is psychologically damaging, and making them more romantic is not going to change this. I do not believe that the writers will have the resources to address their most pertinent problems, either.

And shall I repeat that she cannot exist outside of Noctis? Holy shit, every single official description of her is tied to Noctis, from game manuals, to the official website, to the movie description, to the Ultimania. The idea that Episode Luna is therefore necessary to her character development is a bit too optimistic in my opinion, considering that it is truly going to be about Noctis anyway.

Furthermore, fans are optimistic because Terada will be directing these new DLC. This is fair, and yet, unfair. Yes, Episode Ignis was amazing. However, I cannot attribute writing credits to Terada’s involvement because Ignis’ story arc was already decided before Episode Ignis went into production - it has to be, in order to start the actual pre-development process. What can be attributed to Terada is the alternate ending... which most of us can agree has a serious degradation of writing quality in comparison to the main storyline, and seems like it was rushed.

I also have to emphasize that I personally believe that Episode Luna, and therefore, Episode Noctis, are going to be the alternate reality that the developers are alluding to. Which means that my initial post about her being un-fixable, and having no story to tell, is essentially on point. They didn’t have a story to elaborate about her in the canonical storyline, so they were forced to write up an alternate ending in order to make sense of her character and bring in some development. When you contrast these two vague episode descriptions with the detailed ones of Episode Ardyn (yay!) and Episode Aranea (as long as Ravus is in it, I’m good - but no, seriously, what is lacking in Ravus’ development is knowing what exactly his relationship was with the empire), then it really pushes my belief that Luna and Noctis will be the alternate reality.

All in all, she is still a mess, and retconning her like this will not decrease her controversial standing in the fandom.

#lunafreya nox fleuret #episode luna #final fantasy xv #luna critical #anti lunoct #honestly fuck this character #at least take this as a lesson as to what NOT to do with your characters #please be logical with your characters #give me more ravus

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a-rat-and-a-blob · 6 years

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Drabble Arch: The Second Plague Rat - Subjects of the Sewers

(This is the 8th and FINAL drabble concerning this story. If you want to read the beginnings of “The Second Plague Rat” go to the wattpad page- link)

The dreaded bell of the surface is about to ring the dreaded toll, its noise echoing across the land for all to hear, beckoning for many to wake up into the morning. The bells strikes. I count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. The sixth hour. Morning or night, breakfast or dinner, it doesn't matter to me. The Goopy One must leave to get his food for both him and my creation.

I cannot be too sure. If he's there, he could ruin everything. My hand ultimately reaches for my neck. His hands are on top of it. I breathe and breathe and breathe. I take a small roach in my fur and send it through the cracks to check. I sit underneath what seems to be the abandoned house so long ago. It was empty of dirty humans and worthless surface filth, just 2 of my subjects in a ghost town. I imagine the silence with only the sound of empty screams from the houses as the winds blew in them. I sit in the humid tunnels beneath waiting for my loyal roachman to return with my information, imagining the scene play out.

I took the potion out, seeing its green glow and its radiating heat. It's still warm like a green bloody heart, filled with new life for the kingdom. As such, I caress it as if a baby.. As if Scratch himself.. I even see a reflection across it looking back at me. Today, the sewers will be reborn. Today they'll be brought back to their real home. Today, my first subject will be mine because of this! My greatest treasure! My greatest key! He will not like you.. Yes.. He will fight against you.. He will try to destroy you... but you've seen me.. You know me. You can make them obey me, their ruler! I do not know where they get these insidious thoughts.. Everything I did is for MY kingdom, but YOU can change that..

CRANK!

I grow stiff. Only silence clouded my mind. I look across the tunnel to where the source comes from. Instinctively, I place my potion away on my back, raise my crossbow loaded with my traditional poisons and point into the darkness. I only hear the light pitter patter of sewage. My hands shake as I stare directly in darkness. Nothing comes out, but the implications still rang true. I always knew they were true. The humans would come any moment now, but they've always ignored it. They're dead.

I look down to my crossbow and unloaded the poisons within and replaced them with the potion in the case of desperate measures. My roachman comes back from the cracks. I feel his legs climbing up mine as he tries to go to my fingers. I give him my attention and he nods yes. He wasn't there.

The waters wash and fade as I climb up, up, up the pipe. I see the surface quickly. It was utter darkness; I couldn't see anything, but I smell the stench of fresh Zaunite air recycled from the bright city above. It comes closer and closer until finally a large splash can be heard across the house. When I hear it myself, I start to stiffen when I come out of the old worn out porcelain portal. My head immediately jolts to the closed door to my right. I slowly come off and blend in with my surroundings as I've always done. I wait for the door to open or even creak, but nothing happened in what seemed to be 5 good minutes. The Goopy One can come in any moment.

I open the door slowly to reveal a small brown rat in what seems like an island of light created by a sole burning yellow lantern. He clutches the accursed light fondly as he moves away slowly until he hits a wall. I see the stairs nearby, a way to escape to a deathtrap. Avoiding the light that reveals my shadow, I position myself between him and the stairs to block it if he tries to run. I tip toe slowly to that position, taking note in every step, every movement that my plague rat subject would make. All he did was stare at the door in anticipation of something, possibly the Goopy One himself.

"There you are.." I growl.

He didn't even turn; he knew the voice. He steps back and tries to run away. He squeaks and squeals for help, but nothing can be heard hear. "Now.. Time for YOU to go back to MY kingdom.. where you belong.." I hold the potion up again in my hand for him to see. He shrivels even more, moving back until he feel the concrete pavement of the wall behind him. The light he grasps illuminates it, showing the childish drawings he makes: a large rat with no pupils, me, atop a throne of rat bones with a large "X" covering it all. I'm taken aback. "What's... What's this!? This.. extermination!" I shout, pointing to the image behind. He wouldn't look back; he was already staring right at it. "You're supposed to like me.. You're supposed to like ME! I'm your creator AND the first plague rat! And.. and... and you see THIS! He brainwashed yo-"

CRANK!

It's the sound. Again. Much louder than the last. They were coming.

"You.. You think you're safe here!?" I shout, pointing to the direction of the sound. "The Goopy One's delusional.. You heard that.. Those are the surface dwellers.. The surface dwellers with their machines and chemicals.. With their many ways to exterminate US!" His face didn't change. He only closed his eyes, thinking it would make me disappear.

I grip his hand. He tries to fight. He's too weak. "Everything will change my little subject.." I said. I gesture to the wall with my supposed face. "All of this will change! You are Twitch's subject! Twitch is not your enemy.. The sewer king wants the best for his subjects.. I have something to make you see the truth!"

I take out the potion behind my back. He fought back even more at its sight. "DON'T YOU FIGHT! Your king commands it! Just close your eyes.. It may hurt, but it will all be better in the end.." I inch the potion closer and closer to Scratch's face until I feel the cask that holds it heat up suddenly. I look at it in surprise to see it glow bright. Suddenly, Scratch escapes my grip and pushes me away with immense ferocity. I look up to see his fur slightly glow green as it did back in the comforting depths of my home. It.. it must be a sign! It must be a sign that it works! Hehe.. It will work!

Seeing my position, he lunges up to the stairs to find a way out. As he runs over to the supposed safety of the wooden steps, he stops at the loud rumble above. They're here. Time was running out. With no thought, I lunge at him, pinning him down to the ground. He squirms endlessly in my weight as his fur begin to react again.

"Just a drip.. JUST A DRIP! PLEASE!" I shout desperately as I resist the urge to cackle. I hold the potion up to his face, letting it drip in his mouth one by one. Let the lies end! Let my subjects be with me! Let them trust me! Let them be mine! It drops closer and closer and closer to his mouth. I grow eager at the result.

He screams and screams and screams as the drops enter, but it will be worth it. Like the bones in my lair, the sewer king must face pain and sacrifice. Closer and closer and closer..

"Hey! What's going on down there!?" I heard someone say from the light above. I stop in my track, but that didn't stop Scratch. He threw me off and cowered back in his corners, knowing that voice wasn't ZAC's. He shriveled back below the my hideous image, dropping the lantern in the floor, as he begin to grasp his mouth, squeaking in pain. I see smoking coming from the skin. He begin to barf it out, ejecting it all out from his system. i saw a good portion of his lower face all scarred and burned as he tries to barf the poison out. He was vulnerable, too busy with the toxins to face me, yet I still hear the many footsteps above trying to lift the furniture blocking the entrance. I look up at my picture and look back at the potion, the one that I worked so hard on..

I took my crossbow and fired at the lone lantern. The island of light was gone. The image was gone. Suddenly, the door was blown open and massive amount of light broke through from the surface. On the stairs above us was a sole surface dwelling monster marching down the stairs. More were coming. I tried to hold Scratch's hand, but he refused to escape with me... Those thoughts still plagued his mind.. There was no choice.

I fired and fired and fired. I hear screams. I hear the heads hitting the ground, The monsters above us continuously fell. I hear my cackle. I hear my loud threats. No one was taking my subject away. No one was destroying us. Guns were fired, but there were aimless in the dark while the light made their location cleared. I fired and fired and fired....

All of the walls and the drawings were cracked, and the room was filled with corpses that no one could see. Only 2 remain in the darkness. I approach the shadow still shivering and twitching in the loan corner. I try to get him up, but even when I saved him, he would never come up..

Suddenly the house begin to creak and cry. Rubbles of cements begin to fall on our fur. I look up in horror as the basement begins to collapse.

I knew something went wrong. I just knew it. I could feel the screams and the pain from so many miles away. From even the cultivairs of the upper levels of Zaun, I could still sense what seems to be a massacre. I drop my food and just went through the pipes as fast as I could. I zoom past the depths of the city wishing that it was all just superstition, that Scratch was just safe drawing away whatever he wants, but all of that washes away when I see the neighborhood in ruins with new abandoned construction equipment. "SCRATCH!?" I scream. "SCRATCH!!??" I run through the pipes and crack of my old house and went to the basement. The smell of death and blood hit me hard as I went through, fueling my anxieties and woes even more. Suddenly, I pop out of the pipes into the basement as sediment begin to fall down on my head. I look around to find corpses of all kinds and broken pieces of Scratch's charming art. However, if it was all corpses, there wouldn't be the sense of fear and dread. I look in front to see Scratch all safe and another trying to hold on to him. I couldn't care less on who this other person is; my instinct drove in and I grab the two quickly. Large cracks begin to form, letting the zaunite light through. I ready my legs to jump through the building. "Hold on tight fellas.." I warned. I leap upwards, crashing through the frail ceiling like a meteorite aimed towards the sky. As I went up, I looked down to see the disasters of my old home broken to smithereens by a nearby wrecking ball. My substance begins to grow light, becoming a small parachute for the two.

I tore my sight away from the wreckage. "At least Scratch was safe.." I repeat to myself. "At least Sc-" I stop when my eyes begin to look at the second person that I saved: Twitch. This inclusion changed everything. He was responsible for all of those dead bodies. I begin to notice the numerous new scars that Scratch obtained , specifically a big one located on his jaw..

The two landed softly on the ground. Immediately, Scratch went up to hug me, digging his face to his head to relax the newfound scars. I hug back, relieved that he was still alive, but then I look back at the twisted monster.

I place Scratch down with a small bloblet to press his injuries on and march to twitch. I grab him by the chest and pin him down to the ground.

"What. Did. You. Do?" I ask adamantly. "What did you do to Scratch!? And what did you do to everyone!?"

"I.. I saved him.." He croaks. "Those... people.. if I wasn't there, they would've killed him.."

I glance at the wrecking ball and then the wreckage of my old home and then the Twitch himself, looking tired and defeated. "You still tried to feed him that potion..." I growl. my grip released him. "If I see you again, I'm breaking an arm. I don't care. I don't want to see you again.." I turn back to him, walking

"But where will you go..?" Twitch squeaks. I'm surprised. I was expecting that he would run away like the coward he was. "Look what happened here.. The humans are spreading up here. They'll find you.. and they'll exterminate you.. They're a plague.. I told you many times! They're a plague! AND HE WOULD'VE BEEN KILLED!"

"I'll find another place!"

"But where!?" I pause, not knowing where to go. Everywhere I look I see old houses that are now dead, house that I thought were safe havens. "It's.. it's the only place.. I have more rooms in the sewers.. Please.... You don't have to live in my lair. Please..."

I march back into the sewers, packing the normal trash bag beds and yellow lanterns into an empty pipe room. Me and Scratch said nothing throughout the trip. He only clings around my neck, not wanting to be in this living nightmare any longer. When we settle down, I begin to check the numerous cracks of the pipe room, looking for roaches and bugs and anything Twitch can use to spy on us. I still threatened to break his arm if I saw him here. Still would. Nothing was in the cracks. Nothing was there yet might I add.

I look over to Scratch who was shivering on his trash bag, not believing the turn of events. I come over to comfort him. "Hey.. This is only temporary. We'll find a home eventually.. Don't worry about it," I sigh. " I have something to show you." I look into my trash bag and took out what seems to be a small magical hextech gauntlet meant to manipulate any form of magic. When we were packing, I went over to get something at the promenade before we left. Usually my parents would disapprove of stealing, but I had no choice.

I wore it and begin to show a small electric ball. "See this? It can do all sort of things." I begin to form it in the many drawings that Scratch has made throughout the weeks. Some just 2 dimensional static drawings while others were 3 dimensional models acting the drawings out. "I got it just for you.. You can play around it. Just focus on the ball and focus on what you want to make.." I watched as Scratch manipulate the ball endlessly. I see the balls glow reflected in his eyes as it gives light to a dark world, same as I when my parents first showed it to me. I would have to teach him how to wield it. I don't even know how to do that myself..

I look back in the dark corridors of the sewers, thinking I heard a large skitter. Thinking I heard the footsteps of what could be a hidden rat. he was nowhere to be found..

As Scratch played with the ball, it began to turn green.

#ic #Twitch #ZAC #Scratch #Drabble Arch: The Second Plague Rat #Drabble Arch End #Word count: 2715 #This was REALLY LONG #Didn't expect this to come out this long

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junker-town · 5 years

Text

Hail to the Jaguars, troll kings of the NFL

Reinhold Matay-USA TODAY Sports

The Jaguars are your cousin who annoys you constantly — and they’re perfect.

The Jaguars are 4-4. They’re currently tied at the bottom of the AFC South, but there’s still a good chance they can win the division and make it to the playoffs. Regardless of where Jacksonville finds itself at the end of the season, though, one thing is certain: Nobody has more fun making others feel terrible than the Jags.

Their latest victim is Jets quarterback and spleen safety enthusiast Sam Darnold. One week removed from uttering his now-infamous “I’m seeing ghosts” line, everything was set to be the perfect Duval storm. Halloween is around the corner, and this was a home game in North Florida, so yeah, you can see where this is going.

Oh my they dressed Jaxson De Ville up as a ghost #Jaguars pic.twitter.com/TX1qu8DHrn

— Ben Murphy (@BenMurphyTV) October 27, 2019

In a steady adherence to the bit, the Jaguars also played the Ghostbusters theme over their P.A. system while showing a highlight reel of every time Darnold was sacked or turned the ball over in Week 8.

Jags mascot Jaxson De Ville tweeted along and at the end of the game, he was ready with a tweet.

Postgame update: https://t.co/09eUgNXvjX

— Jaxson de Ville (@JaxsonDeVille) October 27, 2019

To his credit, Darnold took everything in stride as best he could this week. He downplayed the ghost comments, explained what happened, and honestly handled it better than a lot of 22-year-olds would under intense New York-style criticism. That said, I’ve got to admit that even I felt a little bad for him when Jags fans flew a damn plane over the stadium dragging this banner:

Oh my goodness... plane before #Jets-#Jaguars flying with sign that reads “Gardner Minshew ain’t afraid of no ghosts DUVALL” pic.twitter.com/aMInfIWaQj

— Connor Hughes (@Connor_J_Hughes) October 27, 2019

The Jaguars are the most important team in the NFL, and nobody else is a better lens for society than Jacksonville. We’re still emerging from the dark ages where there was no fun in the NFL, and the Jags are a constant reminder that we all take this stuff way too seriously.

If you’re truly upset about Sunday’s antics, that means they won. Such is the job of the troll. The troll exists to entertain their small but rabid community while pushing an “us against the world” mentality and infuriating everyone else in the process. Nobody does this better than Duval. If you’re clapping back with “your team sucks, you know!” to a Jaguars fan, well, you’ve already lost and you’re in too deep.

If you don’t believe that, I have a test for you: Spend a couple of hours trashing the Jaguars on Twitter. Whatever you feel like saying. If you awaken the nest — and chances are you will — you’ll want to deactivate your account in three hours.

That’s what I love about them. Jaguars fans aren’t delusional. They’re hyper-realistic, but there’s very much a “proud family” quality to them. Jaguars fans can talk shit about the Jaguars, but if you tread in that world without being a fan, you’re going to get your head kicked in faster than when Joe Pesci lost it in Goodfellas.

They’re exactly what the NFL needs.

Now, since I’m feeling a little funny heaping all that praise on Duval, it’s time to go around the league ...

Quarterback by extremely large, sad committee.

This is the saddest 'choose your fighter' I've ever seen pic.twitter.com/T1nzoSjpYg

— Ricky O'Donnell (@SBN_Ricky) October 27, 2019

I knew a graphic like this was going to be bad, but I didn’t know precisely how bad. At this point I’m not even sure I can blame the Bears for completely giving up on the concept of offense and just clocking in and out like the NFL is a shift at a Dairy Queen.

It’s always your friends who hurt you the most ...

My god the Bucs are spectacular pic.twitter.com/xM1CtnXTnp

— CJ Fogler (@cjzero) October 27, 2019

You can’t get tackled if you tackle yourself first. This is galaxy-brain thinking by the Buccaneers — the kind of lauded football I.Q. we come to expect from Bruce Arians — and I’m here for it.

Also, they lost to Ryan Tannehill, who dropped a QB rating of 109.8 against them. Process that however you want. There’s no wrong answer here.

These two photos from a Jaguars fan have me questioning everything.

We’re not back at the Slab for a month after today, so we’re coming in hot. See you soon! pic.twitter.com/ARcYscskR1

— Teal St. Hooligans (@TealStHooligans) October 27, 2019

My goodness there’s a lot to unpack here. First off, we have the shirtless-Gardner-Minshew-wrestling-a-tiger mural. I get it. It’s on brand. I really like that someone did this to their Cadillac. It’s the tuxedo t-shirt of car design — and so perfectly Duval, I can’t handle it.

Now we’ve got to talk about this bladder of Fireball. Who in God’s green earth thought this was a good idea? This is the beverage analog of Icarus flying too close to the sun. We were too busy seeing if we could that nobody question whether we should.

And yes, at first I assumed (like most sensible people) that this was a jury-rigged Jacksonville invention. Nah, they sell this abomination at retail. The world is equally amazing and terrifying.

Baker Mayfield is getting into the spirit of giving early this year.

oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god pic.twitter.com/yX7IXSYTdy

— Christian D'Andrea (@TrainIsland) October 27, 2019

The Patriots’ defense is so terrifying that we’re seeing some Black Mirror stuff going on. They take the field and suddenly grown-ass football players completely forget how to play the game.

I’m starting to think Kyle Allen might not be Tom Brady.

Call it a hunch.

Seriously, though, can we put this whole thing to bed? I know the 49ers’ defense is good — really, really good — but when you’re averaging 4.2 yards per attempt, something has gone horribly, horribly wrong.

Who is to blame for his sudden regression? Real fans know.

1ØV£ pic.twitter.com/atEdecT6QM

— Carolina Panthers (@Panthers) October 27, 2019

Shout out to Sunday Night Football ...

For giving us a game that actually didn’t suck. I feel like we’ve become so accustomed to the SNF game being weak that this one caught us all off guard. Even knowing that Matt Moore was going to be quarterbacking for Kansas City, it wasn’t enough to put a damper on the one-score thriller at Arrowhead Stadium.

Ultimately, the Packers walked away with the 31-24 win, but really the winners were all of us — the sports fans.

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