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smellsfaintlyofvanilla · 3 years

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Hello omg, can I request Sasha with a warrior S/O? Like reader came with Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt on their mission and during Reiner and Bertholdt’s reveal, she reveals herself too? UAUAUA it can be angst or whatever you prefer 🥺❤️

I gave the reader the Warhammer titan btw cause it’s my favorite akdkakfkd

Also, it’s a little long, but that’s just ‘cause I wrote out the whole warrior reveal in word form, and it’s longer than I remember lol

With You

(Sasha Braus x Reader)

AU: Canon, slightly divergent

Warnings: Gore/graphic description of injury, season 3 spoilers, slight season 4 spoilers

Genre: Angst

Summary: Following the battle at Utgard castle, Reiner stops to have a chat with Eren, and reveals that he, Bertholdt, and Sasha’s s/o are all titan shifters, right in front of Sasha.

Words: 3.9K

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You had no time to process what had happened. Ymir was a titan, Christa was Historia, and Zeke has finally made his appearance.

You sighed and leaned against the rope tethers of the pulley system, regaining your bearings on the platform as you were pulled up and over the wall. The battle of Utgard castle had been tough—and many secrets were uncovered.

So, Ymir was the titan that ate Marcel all those years ago... You recounted in your head, sighing as you held your face in your palms. And now Zeke is here. We must’ve been too long without any sign of progress. We’re in big trouble. If we get back without Annie and Eren, it’ll be all over for us. Magath is gonna—

“Y/n!” A cheery voice brought you out of your slump, and you looked over your shoulder to see Sasha standing behind you, an arm outstretched as an offering of help.

You smiled at the sight of your girlfriend, and you slowly rose from your spot on the makeshift elevator, taking her hand and pulling yourself up onto the wall. “Thanks, Sasha.”

As soon as you stood up straight, Sasha lunged at you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, lifting her feet off of the ground as you leaned all of her body weight onto you.

“I’m so glad you’re okay...! I was so worried!” She buried her face in your neck as she spoke, and you wrapped your arms around her lower back, putting your hands on her butt as support so she could wrap her legs around your waist.

You giggled at her, cuddling closer into her embrace. “I’m alright, I’m okay. There’s no need to worry.”

“I know, but I heard that you and your squad got held up at Utgard castle overnight in the middle of a titan horde, and when we finally got there and saw the tower collapsed, I was so scared! I... I—!” She cried into your neck as you moved a hand to rub small circles on her back.

“I know, I know, but we’re okay now. We had a bit of...” You glanced to the left. Ymir lay unconscious and steaming in the stretcher, a distressed Historia leaning over her and brushing strands of brown locks out of her face. “Unexpected help.”

“Mhm...” She mumbled, leaning into you for support. You stayed like this in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s presence after so long of being separated.

“Hey, lovebirds!” A loud shout caught your attention, and both you and Sasha turned to the source; Connie. “Save that stuff for the dorms! We still have stuff to do!”

“Right...” Sasha muttered, climbing off of you and running towards Connie, helping him haul terrified soldiers over the wall.

You stared in admiration for only a brief moment before your attention turned to your comrades, Reiner and Bertholdt. Reiner’s arm was wrapped up in the torn cloth of Historia’s skirt, and Bertholdt was close by, the two of them standing in a solemn, heavy silence.

You approached them quietly, taking a seat next to Reiner. Neither of you said anything. The sudden appearance of the beast titan, or rather, Zeke, had shaken you all. You had been gone for years, and gave no sign of retrieving the Founding Titan. Not only that, but you had lost Marcel and Annie. No matter what, the situation wasn’t going to end smoothly for you three.

To the right, many of the Scouts had gathered around a blonde Garrison soldier. Hannes—his name popped into your mind, as Eren had mentioned him before, while in the 104th. He seemed to be disclosing something to the others, and they looked on with mixed expressions.

“Do you think this has something to do with Zeke?” You questioned. Reiner kept his face buried in his palm, and Bertholdt turned to you with a sigh.

“Most likely.” The tall man answered. “I mean, we saw him. He’s clearly here. He must be doing something with his spinal fluid. Speeding up the process, perhaps.” He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in anxiety, eyes wide. “We’re in deep shit.”

You didn’t respond to him verbally, offering only a huff in solemn agreement.

The group of soldiers disbanded, though many branched of into separate conversations of worry, wonder, and resentment. As they walked off, Reiner stood up suddenly, eyes still fixated on the ground.

“Eren.” He called out, drawing the attention of the shorter man. “We should talk. You got a moment?”

“Sure, I guess.” He sighed, walking over. You and Bertholdt shared confused and concerned looks. The two of you had long noticed that Reiner had gone a bit off the deep end since arriving at Paradis, so you were wary of what he might say or do next.

“Five years ago, we compromised Wall Maria and launched an attack on humanity.” He spoke, turning his back to Eren, hanging his head in defeat. You looked at Bertholdt, and he mirrored your emotion. Panic.

“I’m the Armored Titan. He’s the Colossal.” He pointed his thumb in your direction when he spoke. “And she’s the Warhammer.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you telling him?” Bertholdt chocked out quietly.

“Reiner!” You whispered sharply, venom dripping from your tone. The three of you had done such a careful job keeping your identities secret from the others, and Reiner just spilled all of it. There was no going back from this.

“We were on a mission.” He continued.

“Stop!” Bertholdt pleaded, but Reiner didn’t waver.

“Our goal was to ensure mankind’s extinction. But now, there’s no need for that. Eren,” He turned to face the shocked and confused boy to his side. “If you want the walls to remain standing, it’s simple. Just come with Bertholdt, Y/n, and me. Do you understand?”

A good look to your left proved that he did not, in fact, understand.

“Understand? What the hell is there to understand?!” He shouted, drawing the attention of a few soldiers. Mikasa stood protectively a short distance away, and Sasha, with her impeccable hearing, turned to face the scene as well. The two of you made eye contact, and your distress must have been evident even at such a distance, because her eyes widened, and she started to make her way over with concern and confusion.

“Listen to me.” To your and Bertholdt’s horror, Reiner kept speaking. “I need you to do exactly as I say. Look, I know this is sudden, but we have to go.”

“Right now?” He exclaimed. “Where would you take me?”

“I can’t tell you. Not yet.” Internally, you started to collect yourself. This wasn’t ending quietly. Bloodshed was dreadfully immanent. “Just think of it as our hometown.” Your eyes widened. He’s just gonna ask Eren? You thought, astounded. After all this, he really thinks Eren is just gonna follow us? What is he thinking?!

“Okay? So what’s it gonna be? Not a bad deal, right? The chance to avert a major crisis?”

“I’m not so sure...” He muttered. You were surprised he didn’t have a stronger reaction, especially for someone as fiery as him. Perhaps he was still in shock, or denial. Either way, they were teetering on the edge of battle, even if you and Bertholdt were the only ones to sense it.

“You guys!” Armin shouted, waving to capture the attention of you, Bertholdt, Reiner, and Eren. “Get a move on, we’re heading out!” Despite that, Sasha pushed right past him, closing in to the conversation, standing still now that she was in earshot. Mikasa was to her left, watching Eren with a dangerously protection glare.

Eren closed his eyes, taking in a deep sigh. It felt as if, for a moment, the world stood still. Damn it, he thought, I didn’t want to believe it...

A distant memory flashed through his head. When Annie had been found out, they had discussed the possibility of Reiner, Bertholdt, and Y/n also being shifters, but they didn’t have proof. Was it really so simple, though?

He opened his eyes and placed a firm hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “You’re just tired. That’s it, right? Help me out here Bertholdt, Y/n. Your nerves are shot. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“U-Uh, yeah.” Bertholdt fumbled. “It’s the battle fatigue talking!”

“Yeah!” You reaffirmed, luckily being able to exude more confidence than Bertholdt. “You’re just tired. After everything that just happened, I can’t blame you.” You laughed nervously, praying no one saw through your bluff.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Between your bluff, and his shock, Eren took the bait. “If you really were the Armored Titan, what’s the endgame here? We wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. What’d you expect me to do? Say yes? Let myself be kidnapped just ‘cause you asked politely?” Somehow, you found yourself agreeing with Eren on that last one.

Despite Eren’s nonchalant response, a dead silence overtook the air, and Sasha found it as her cue to step forward.

“Y/n? What’s going on here?” She placed a hand on your shoulder, but as soon as she did, you looked back. She gasped at the sight. You looked petrified.

“Right. Not thinking straight, am I?” He finally gave up his ploy, wide-eyed and sweating bullets. “Barely know what I’m saying here. Must’ve gone off the deep end.”

Eren turned his back to the three of you. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Deafening silence and still air ensued. You did not move. The clouds cleared, and rays of sun shone down on the stone beneath your feet.

“That’s the problem.” Reiner shook. He chuckled, and shadows covered his face. You’d never seen him like this before.

“I’ve been here too long for my own good. Three years of this madness, surrounded by idiots. We were kids. What’d we know about anything?”

You couldn’t help but agree with Reiner on that one. You didn’t want to become a warrior, none of you did. If you knew the atrocities you had to commit in order to have the essence of a warrior, the idea would’ve never crossed your mind.

“Why did there have to be people like this.” He choked, tears pricking his eyes and mouth spread into a wide, ugly frown. “Why? Why did I let myself devolve into such a half-assed piece of shit?”

“It’s too late now.” He lifted his arm out of the cast makeshift cast, and held his arm up, showing the red and bloody bite mark. “Damned if I know what’s right anymore! Who cares? It is what it is. No choice but to face what I’ve done! As a warrior.”

His arm steamed, and shortly after, the skin closed up, blood drying and appearing as if he’d never been injured from the get-go.

“No road left but the one that leads to the end!” He screamed. Eren’s eyes widened as he gasped. He finally understood.

“Reiner! Right now? Here?” Bertholdt yelled back, prepared for anything, despite the beads of sweat that rolled down his face.

“We’re really doing this?!” You echoed, and Sasha looked on with a horrified expression.

“Yes. Right here, right now!” He commanded, marching towards Eren. “We settle this once and for all!”

Mikasa appeared out of nothing in a fraction of second, blades drawn and mind set on murder. She swung her blade at Reiner, who put up his hand defensively as the blade split his hand in half from his fingers all the way to his wrist. She spun around in an instant, and her blade cleanly slashed right across Bertholdt’s neck, who fell to the ground screaming and holding his throat.

He eyes were set on you, and an underhanded swing of her blade slashed a line right across your face. Blood immediately clouded your vision, and you groaned in pain as you were sure you had lost an eye.

She charged at you, determined to finish the job, but her sprint was interrupted by Sasha, who tackled Mikasa at full force, and the sword tumbled out of her grasp as Sasha pinned her down.

“Sasha!” She struggled. “Sasha, move! What are you doing?!” She tried to get up, but Sasha managed to overpower her momentarily, keeping her firmly on the ground.

“MIKASA STOP! PLEASE!” She pleaded at the top of her lungs. Rationally, she knew you were the enemy now, but she’d be damned if she let you die here, after everything the two of you had been through.

“Sasha, you can’t—!”

“I DON’T CARE!” She screamed. “YOU AREN’T GONNA HURT HER!”

Mikasa took quick advantage of Sasha’s emotional state and hurled her off, and she tumbled into a heap a few feet away. With little hesitation, Mikasa reequipped her blades.

But it was too late.

“Bertholdt! Y/n!” Reiner barked, lighting already manifesting around him.

The two of you looked at each other with horrified understanding, and prepared your own transformations.

Sparks of electricity surrounded you, and panic filled adrenaline exploded into flesh. Limbs shot out around you, plus the familiar hardened skin of the Armored, the skinless muscle of the Colossal, and the cloudy white body of your own titan.

Seconds passed, albeit one’s that felt like centuries, and you finally opened your eyes. You stood tall on top of the wall; 15 meters high. To your right, Reiner. And behind him was Bertholdt. Only half formed due to the space, and his lower body ceased to exist. Ribs shot out and dug into the stone, and powerful gusts of steam shot off of his body.

The terrified pawns on the wall stared up at you, mouths agape. But the shock didn’t last long.

The hurricane of steam that came off of Bertholdt started to throw things around, and those who didn’t make quick use of their ODM gear were sent flying. One of those figures, Eren, was quickly swept up by Reiner in the chaos.

It was no use, though. That’s why you weren’t surprised in the slightest when he bit his hand and sparks flew, his transformation queued by a guttural scream of rage.

“Damn you... YOU TRAITORS!”

The Attack Titan formed in Reiner’s hand, fist already drawn back and preparing a strike to Reiner.

In a fraction of a second, you formed a large hammer—your namesake weapon—from hardened titan skin, raising it into the air with a passionate battle cry.

The hammer struck Eren in his flank, and he flew abruptly to the left. You shot Reiner a look, and he looked down in understanding, drawing his arms back in preparation for a charge.

Eren had stood up by the time Reiner had started his charge, and immediately braced for impact—he didn’t have the time to move.

Reiner collided with Eren, and knocked him to the ground effortlessly, his greater size and weight being of good use.

The two wrestled on the ground, and you hesitated to intervene. After all, your weapon was powerful, but imprecise. You couldn’t risk accidentally hitting Reiner. Instead, you turned around, assessing the situation on the wall, where Bertholdt had been unceremoniously shackled.

It seemed no one was brave enough—or rather, stupid enough—to approach the colossal in it’s torrid state, and you didn’t know if you should be frustrated or grateful.

But, out of the corner of your eye, a figure swung. Your eyes widened slightly in amusement as ODM gear shot from tree to tree, approaching you at in impressive speed. Hmph. Guess someone is stupid enough after all. You thought.

You were about to swipe them away without a second thought, but you faltered at the sight of auburn brown hair, loosely tied into a familiar ponytail.

You must’ve gotten a little distracted by the sight, because you were suddenly brought back to attention by the figure landing on your shoulder, the hooks of their ODM gear digging into your shoulder, which you assumed were used as leverage mere seconds ago.

You turned your massive head to look at it, and you saw the figure gasp and tremble at the sight. Sometimes, you forgot how terrifying your titan was. But you perked up for a moment, brought out of your violent trance by a familiar face.

“Y/N!” It was Sasha. “Y/n, what is going on here?!”

You opened your mouth to respond, and it came out in a gravely, deep tone because of your titan form. “Sasha...?”

She released the grapples of her ODM to run up and hug your neck—the best she could, that is, with your immense size.

“Y/n! Come on! Why didn’t you tell me! This... this isn’t you... tell me there’s a reason!!!” She screamed.

Turning back to observe Eren and Reiner’s struggle, you sighed internally. It was just like her to get too emotional in a situation like this.

You turned back to Sasha with a sad look in your eyes. Carefully, you brought your hand up to pinch the hood of her Scout jacket, lifting her and placing her back down on top of the wall.

Slowly, you crouched down to her level, meeting her eye to eye despite the pain it caused you to see the heartbroken look in her eyes. Your hand curled around her back to support her, the only kind of pseudo-hug you could give at the moment. Your thumb gently made its way to the top of her head, and you moved it down slowly to caress her head. Tears streamed down her face, the internal conflict being far too much for her to bear.

But a sudden mass to your lower back brought you out of your intimate moment with her. Pain shot up through your body as you felt your back collide with the ground, and your eyes opened in horror. Eren had somehow managed to best Reiner in their scrimmage—and he was after you now.

You started to form the base of your hammer in your hands once again, but a forceful punch to your jaw stopped it’s formation out of the shock and pain.

Another fist made it’s way to your face—and another, and another, and another. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could hear noises. Roaring, growling, and, the loudest of them all, screaming. Though, in your state, you couldn’t discern if it was even you or not.

Eren delivered his last punch with a frightening roar of passion, and your neck twisted at an unnatural angle as your head snapped off the titan body with a horrid, bone-grinding sound.

Your battered body fell out of the nape of the titan, using what was left of your strength to emerge at the last second. It was all you had in you, though, and the last thing you heard was your own heavy breathing and distant shouting as your vision started to vade.

Eren stood up tall, towering over your unconscious body, raising his fists in the air with a triumphant roar of victory, the cheers of soldiers filling the air.

Filled with adrenaline and ego, he picked up your limp body in his hand, dangling your body over his already opened mouth.

He was going to eat the Warhammer—right here, right now.

That is, until a foreboding cracking noise brought his attention away from you. It took a few seconds for him to locate the source. The Colossal Titan.

It’s bones snapped and ground against one another, it’s massive body slowly shifting like a collapsing skyscraper. It twisted, turned, and groaned until it slowly lost it’s iron grip on the wall—and it was heading straight for Eren.

It’s body collided with Eren, and the force of the impact was comparable to that of an earthquake. Smoke rose from the ground as dirt was upended, trees crackling and snapping as chunks of rock flew up and around from the impact area.

The force of the impact sent you flying through the air. It didn’t take any hesitation, though, for your girlfriend to go flying through the air, catching your bloody body in her arms and wrapping herself around you to keep you safe as she hit the ground and slid against the dirt.

She groaned audibly from the pain, gritting her teeth in a feeble attempt to numb the painful sensations. But, her pain suddenly subsided when she laid eyes on you.

Your lower half had been all but obliterated. Your legs were completely crushed and squeezed out like an old container of toothpaste, and blood gushed from your stomach. She tried in vain to ignore the sight of your snapped bones twisting at odd angles and protruding through your skin.

Panicked, she brought an ear to your chest, desperately searching for that steady rhythm of life beating in your chest.

She had never taken a deeper sigh of relief than she did now, overjoyed at the slow heartbeat you clung onto. It was weak, yes, but you were still here. With her. That’s all that mattered.

Steam slowly rose from your stomach as your body attempted to heal your wounds. Even in a situation like this, your body managed to find the strength to start recovering.

She cradled your body to her chest, sobbing out in both relief and distress as you bled out onto her. Her clothes were already stained red, and her hands were sticky with morbid crimson, but she didn’t care. She held you close, as close as you could possibly be without her physically crushing you, catching her breath and calming herself to the sound of your shallow breaths.

It was a short-lived moment, though, as a dark shadow suddenly covered the ground, and Sasha froze with fear with you in her arms. By the shadow alone, it was impossible to tell if it was Eren or Reiner, and she didn’t want to check. She curled around you, crying quietly in preparation of getting crushed.

But it didn’t happen. A large finger instead placed itself on Sasha’s shoulder, pushing her out of the way to observe your injured state. Her body trembled fearfully as she turned to face it, and was met with the Armored Titan.

She wasn’t sure what to expect next, really. It could’ve crushed her like an ant and ran away with you, or worse, separated her and run off with just you.

She didn’t want to be apart from you. Even if it made her a terrible soldier, even if it made her treasonous, dishonorable, and irredeemable, she would stick with you, no matter whose side you were on. Right or wrong, she was staying with you.

Reiner hesitated for a moment. He couldn’t just bring a Paradis soldier back, it would be a huge problem down the line. But, his eyes glanced to you. He was certain that if he left Sasha there without you, you would never have forgiven him.

So, he cut his losses and gently scooped the two of you up in his hand, holding you and her close to his chest as he started running—god knows where to. She caught a glimpse of a Bertholdt in his other hand, as well as Ymir, still unconscious and strapped to her stretcher.

And Eren. Somehow, Reiner had the severely injured and incapacitated shifter quite literally in the palm of his hand.

Sasha knew that once people slowly started waking up, the fighting would only continue, but she savored this moment. Even if you were bleeding and hurt, your face looked peaceful. As odd as it sounded, she felt content with you in this moment.

As Reiner ran further and further from the wall, Sasha glanced over his shoulder, watching as the faces of her former comrades as they faded into the background.

I wish somebody cared for me the way Sasha cares about Y/n in this fic lmaooo

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #sasha braus #sasha blouse #sasha x reader #sasha braus x reader #sasha blouse x reader #angst

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bloodnbunnies · 3 years

Text

MSA/RE Village AU where the gang stars as the 4 lords

Lewis = Alcina Dimitrescu

In his case, it turns into Lord Pepper. He fits Alcina’s role the best because, not only is Lewis the tallest of the group, but, similar to Alcina, he is very showy and very dramatic. Also, castle’s and mansions have some things in common, like they’re both very fancy, and pretty big, etc. In old European times, Lewis would definitely have an extravagant castle. I think Lady Dimitrescu’s whole motif fits Lewis extremely well. The deadbeats could fill in for the daughters quite well, although they won’t be introduced as his children in this AU. Just his closest servants or whatnot.

Arthur = Karl Heisenberg

Or Lord Kingsmen. Heisenberg has the whole metal thing going for him AND he has created robots and the like, showing that he has a knack for robotics. Given that Arthur is a mechanic and ALSO has a knack for robotics and all that, it fits perfectly. While Arthur, canonically, is a much more anxious individual and lacks the confidence Heisenberg has (at least in the social area gsgsgd), I think if he were in the place of a mutated villain, being a cocky bastard would definitely be a part of Arthur’s villain persona. Also I think he’d look cool in Heisenberg’s outfit.

Vivi = Donna Beneviento

Lady Yukino. This one is less based in the abilities Donna has, and more of the general feel/idea, if you get what I mean. Donna’s house is the creepiest part of the game, and given Vivi’s interest in the paranormal and horror, if she were a villain, she would 100% scare the shit out of her victims, play with them some. I can see her being into creepy dolls and stuff like that. She would put up much more of a fight than Donna did in the actual game though, so going through her would be more difficult, and probably even more scary than it was in Village. Also, this is more of a random thought that I think would be interesting, but perhaps Angie could be replaced with a doll version of Shiromori instead? They’re both made out of wood, and Angie seems to have her own personality, so doll Shiromori would too. Idk, I think it would be neat, and a way to integrate Shiro into the story.

Mystery = Salvatore Moreau

Lord Mystery. Kitsune are shapeshifters, and can shift into a human form or human-looking form. So since Mystery is an animal that has the capability of looking like a human, I think it fits. I’m imagining some sort of fox-human monstrosity for him. Since Moreau’s case is a fish-human monstrosity, the part animal theme stays consistent with Mystery. Also I definitely think Mystery would be a whiny, self-pitying bastard if he were a villain. Very vindictive and manipulative and stuff. Fits him perfectly. Not second-handedly saying Moreau annoys me in the game, I actually really like his character as a villain, it’s just a bit of ire from canon Mystery’s absolutely tomfoolery in MSA leaking out since Mystery, y’know… isn’t supposed to be a bad guy lol. At least not anymore. But I digress, he’s fucked up a lot, and as I said, definitely would be one of those self-pitying villains, and is constantly going “oh woe is me!”

Added Bonus: Reverb plays the part of Mother Miranda, given that both of them are the major villain in their own respective media. So Father Reverb it’d be called, I suppose. (Idk I’ve always just called ??? an “it” as opposed to a “he”, maybe, for me at least, it’d just turn out as Parent Reverb lol.)

Just wanted to put this out here! I wanted to draw it but I unfortunately do not have any motivation for art anymore, and I absolutely hate it. I wish I could go back to the old days where I could draw consistently 😭. Who knows, maybe I could bring myself to draw it out eventually. Hopefully.

If anybody who may be possibly interested, feel free to comment your own opinions or ideas! Or perhaps even expand a little more and figure out who could possibly fit into Ethan, Mia’s and Rosemary’s places in the game if you want. I was just thinking about the gang and then started to think abt Village, and realized, ‘hey, the gang could actually fill the places of the lords quite well. Some better than others, but still well nonetheless.’

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still-a-morosexual-help · 3 years

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OBEY ME! LESSON 46 DETAILED SUMMARY + THEORIES

This lesson’s got two locked chapters that I can’t unlock :’)

D takes them to the casino where they meet Mammon in the Lamp event outfit. When he laughs and tells them that they must have forgotten who he is if they think they can take the money MC ignores all of this to ask him wtf he’s wearing. Mammon blushes and tells them that they have no right to criticize what he’s wearing considering what they’re wearing. Then he says also Lucifer wtf happened to you!? He laughs and teases Lucifer about getting shrunk and how he could accidentally step on him and kill him rn or how Beel might eat him as a snack. I saw someone say that Mammon was a little shit who was also BabyTM and like Yess!??? I love when we get to see more of the asshole side of him specially when we already know how soft he is. Man’s an onion :’) Beel says he wouldn’t do that unless Lucifer hid inside a piece of cake and Beel swallowed him whole without realising. Lucifer, off screen: “You’d better realise I was there!” And Like??? That’s the point Lucifer wants to argue? Not the fact that he wouldn’t hide inside a cake? Mammon says whatever and that he’ll take Lucifer from them so he can have fun with his new toy anyway RIP to Mammon who dies after this lesson. “Mammon, Avatar of Greed, Appears”- gonna have Pokemon Battles from now on, I can’t believe this what this dating sim has evolved into :D Mammon uses wind to lift Lucifer up and bring him towards him. MC has a flashback to the previous night and commands Beel who transforms into a demon and whose body starts moving on its own, Beel then cancels out Mammon’s spell and uses a wind spell to send Mammon flying. Beel transforms back to his human form and is shocked by what happened. Solomon says MC did a good job commanding Beel though they weren’t able to draw out all his powers. They get the armour, which Beel thinks is too flashy but MC tells him it looks great which he is happy about. D tells them about a rumour of Satan attacking a town up north.

As they walk through the woods Lucifer talks about how much he’s gonna love beating the shit outta Mammon when he’s back to normal and waves MC off when they ask him to go easy on Mammon. Beel says that Lucifer used to be a lot nicer to Mammon in the celestial realm and how the two of them would team up to go argue with Raphael. Solomon asks if it was Diavolo who got Lucifer to change and what exactly Lucifer had to do to reach the status they now enjoy in the Devildom. Beel seems shocked at this and ask Lucifer if it’s true. He says he doesn’t remember. There’s growling & they’re suddenly surrounded by ghosts. Solomon: Oh yeah lol this is called the Black Phantom Forest. Everyone else: WHY the FUCK didn’t you say so before!? They run from the ghosts and set up camp beside a lake, MC & Beel talk. Beel says how they’ve all changed from their time in the Celestial Realm and he can’t remember when he stopped resisting the urge to constantly eat. But how somethings are still the same and how the brothers have always been together and how they always will be. He brings up the three things the butcher said to maintain a long relationship and how even though they may sometimes falter at the “respect each other” part when it comes down to it the brothers have all three things with each other (Not me sobbing like a baby. It’s the found family trope for me guys). Beel says how he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to fight Belphie if they meet him in the game and how he has so many people who he loves that he doesn’t know who to put first and that he knows many people would kill to have that kinda problem and that as both an angel and a demon he’s being lucky to have the people he loves. MC gets to hold his hand, lean on his shoulder or say nothing and guys I love Beel so much he’s just so pure god. Okay so theory part: I 100% believe (& it’s implied in canon and in the chats too) and the main reason Lucifer is so mean to Mammon now is because he’s scared if he doesn’t discipline him then Diavolo will and he’ll end up with another Lilith situation. That being said I NEED to know how Lucifer came across Mammon in the celestial realm and what he said to make Mammon so loyal to him. PLS om! Give me the boys backstory? I like to think Lucifer raised Mammon the same way Simeon is raising Luke and that’s why you can see some of Lucifer’s traits in Mammon whenever he becomes serious about something and why Mammon sometimes slips up and calls Lucifer “Dad” and why Lucifer becomes so happy about it. I also think the others would have been older than Mammon was when he first met Lucifer, when they eventually joined the family which is why they share far less traits with Lucifer and why (as far as we know) none of them have called Lucifer ‘dad”. If this is true it also brings up a real interesting dynamic between Satan and Mammon that would be useful when writing fics. You know a little deeply buried resentment and envy about Lucifer having been more of a father figure to Mammon than to the person who is technically his actual son, and since we know for a fact that right after arriving in the Devildom Lucifer starts going through an existential crisis and Mammon’s the one who steps up to look after the others I 100% believe Mammon’s the one who did most of the work in raising a newly created Satan and who taught him how to control his anger so well (cause lets be real it definitely couldn’t be any of the others) which also gives backstory to Satan’s “do you think Mammon’s actually the most decent of us” homescreen comment and more importantly adds spice to the relationship dynamic you can work with in fics.

When they wake up Beel is thankful that they didn’t get eaten. Solomon: not like you would have noticed with all the fun you had *wink wink* Lucifer: wtf Solomon:*WINK WINK* Me: bro they were just talking… they find out game time and real world time pass differently and come across a treasure chest in the middle of their path. Solomon: Lets open it! :D Lucifer: Expect that’s definitely a trap… Solomon: Exactly! Which is why we should open it! :D MC: Lets open it! :D Lucifer: Why is the entire human species so fucking stupid!? Why were you created without any self preservation!? Who approved this!? They find medicine, a warding bottle and cat ears. …They put Lucifer into the bottle and Lucifer’s really going through it in this huh. But opening the chest pulls up an inescapable battle with the final boss, and Satan pops up fully immersed in the villain role with an evil laugh and everything. Luci asks MC to use something from the chest and they use the cat ears and Lucifer’s disappointed when they actually work. But it only deals 222 damage to Satan’s 870k HP. Satan paralyses them all and steals bottled lucifer and calls Belphie to finish the others off. I can’t remember if I mentioned this before but how did the brothers know that Lucifer was gonna be mini before they even got home, it would’ve had to be quite a bit in advance for them to so perfectly set up everything… And you know Solomon was really determined to open that chest (I mean so was MC but the whole of season 1 was establishing that their curiosity was gonna get them killed) so…

MC tells Belphie they don’t want to fight him and Belphie says he doesn’t want to fight either but at the same time Satan agreed to give him mine lucifer for a whole day if he defeats them. Beel’s still reluctant and Belphie says Beel doesn’t have to worry cause Belphie isn’t the same small/weak person that Beel always had to protect (and holy shit I need more info on this too?). Beel eventually agrees and says that Belphie’s strong, he tells MC that they weren’t able to use his entire power against Mammon cause he was holding himself back unconsciously but that he was ready now. MC makes Beel do a bunch of wind attacks and they defeat Belphie who’s impressed. Beel says that the magic was actually MC doing it not him (even though he was the one that executed it). Belphie says he’ll join their party if MC promises him that he’ll be allowed to poke at mini luci. MC tells him there’s a damned line and he’ll have to wait his turn. Solomon wonders if MC should be going around giving the right to annoy lucifer to others but also he wants that right too. Even though Lucifer was kidnapped since he’s still in the bottle he’ll be protected so MC’s test is still ongoing. Odd that there was a bottle that would protect Lucifer should he get kidnapped in the chest that was a trap… look we all know Solomon is shady enough that he’s probably behind this right?

During dinner at a tavern the twins are sickeningly soft with each other and Solomon watches them with a smile. For the night the twins end up sharing a room with each other, with Mc and Solomon alone together. In the middle of the night MC wakes up to Solomon still up and looking sad. They ask him what’s up. He says despite how much they walked he still isn’t tired and that seeing the twins together made him lonely. Seeing how much they love and care and understand each other and how they were always together made him wish he had something similar but how when you didn’t age it was difficult to from lasting bonds like that in the human world. MC tells him that all of them care about him and he says he hopes so. Solomon: Lol just the two of us in a room in a game, wouldn’t it be crazy if we made out? MC can either kiss him or kinda stare awkwardly. If they choose the second he apologises for suddenly putting them on the spot and says he won’t try anything else. So this might be kinda an unpopular opinion and I’m genuinely really happy that the side characters are getting more screen time and development because I desperately needed that but I’m not really onboard the romancing option with them? I’m happy they’ve got their own cards now and I love the devilgram stories and romance options in them but I don’t think it makes sense in the context of the main storyline? Barbatos has almost no interaction with MC and though they haven’t shown it yet it’d be weird if he was suddenly into MC. Diavolo spent 2 whole seasons simping over Lucifer why is MC suddenly an option? Besides Diavolo always seems so lonely and I really want him and MC to be really good friends, I want Diavolo to have a friendship where there isn’t some condition that hangs over it like there is with his relationship with Barbatos and Lucifer. The same goes with Solomon. I just want him to have a good solid friendship where there isn’t expectations or power between them. He also initially only seems interested in MC for their power and as a way to train them and eventually genuinely softens up to them, Just the request to kiss seemed outta nowhere? I don’t know why but with Simeon he seems above crushes? I always imagine him seeing MC as another cute kid Lucifer picked up (despite MC being an adult) and having a sort of soft indulgent attitude towards them. I don’t know I think I just want MC to have some friends who aren’t trying to sleep with them.

Solomon is extremely chipper the next morning and Belphie grumpily makes a comment about him having fun and sdfjdvnsjdokd they just talked. Belphie uses his magic to teleport them to Satan’s castle and Beel asked why he couldn’t do that the previous night, Belphie says grumpily cause then Solomon would have missed out on the fun and Solomon agrees and THEY JUST TALKED!? Satan has managed to transform Lucifer into wolf Lucifer and is shaking his bottle hard enough to make Luci wanna puke while Lucifer asks him to stop. MC tells satan to stop and he tells them they won’t be able to defeat him cause they skipped right to the boss battle without taking the long route and levelling up. MC says they’re not gonna fight him cause this whole thing is fucking stupid. Satan says it’s not cause he’s having fun. MC gives him one of their free therapy sessions about how important the bonds between he and his brothers are and how they don’t care more about helping the brothers all get along than some stupid star. Beel comes out spitting facts, saying they all know that Satan actually cares about Lucifer and how that embarrasses him and how he needs to stop hiding it by lashing out. And how Lucifer needs to get his shit together and be honest with satan. That he needs to tell Satan that Lucifer knows he’s his own demon and a really good demon at that. Lucifer says FYI but I never said you weren’t your own great person and Satan blushes and says that unless he wants to look childish he has no option but to accept the olive branch. He tosses Luci to MC. Belphie complains about having stupid older brothers and Solomon says he’s disappointed in Satan and reveals himself as the true secret final boss and FUCK YEAH! I CALLED THAT SHIT! Kinda – I thought he might have just given them a heads up about Luci’s condition. On a different note, Satan needs serious therapy. They all do tbh.

Solomon congratulates MC on what they’ve done so far but says they still haven’t accessed Beel’s full potential and that he’ll give his ‘adorable apprentice’ one more shit at it. Solomon summons Asmo who complains about how long he was made to wait and how he nearly gave up and went to the spa and that no one likes a selfish man. Solomon tells Asmo that he can tell him all this after they get back to the real world and I genuinely want the backstory of how they met and just more about their relationship. At Solomon’s command Asmo uses charm and paralyses Beel and at MC’s Beel uses another wind attack. Asmo says he’s never seen beel do something of this calibre before and he seems more powerful, even more than he was in the celestial realm, Asmo yells at Solomon for just standing and seeming impressed instead of helping him. There’s a bright white light.

Back home with everything back to normal Beel, Lucifer and MC are hanging out by the pool. Lucifer is in an unexpectedly good mood and MC has earned a star, which glows slightly from its place on the symbol etched to the back of their hand. Inside Solomon is feeding the other brothers as punishment. Mammon is sobbing his heart out and Levi is out cold (possibly dead). Satan is given Levi’s remaining share of food and Asmo is in tears. Belphie had made a run for it the second they got home and is nowhere to be found. Solomon talks about how nice Lucifer actually is and how he really loves his brothers cause he just made Solomon make them dinner instead of punishing any of them…. Love that the canonical reason why none of these demons tell Solomon about his food and allow themselves to get tortured is cause they don’t wanna be rude and hurt his feelings. And he thought no one cared about him. If that isn’t love I dunno what is. Beel and MC take a walk while Lucifer sits by the pool and in his words basks in “their screams of agony” While blushing beel says he’s grateful for what happened and how that star is proof that they got closer. Mc can either thank him or say that the star belongs to him. I think they kiss after the second option? For the first Beel says MC’s the one who did the work of drawing out his power. Over the echoing screams from inside Beel asks if they feel like they forgot something and ndfjkfjkdjfefjkn THEY FORGOT DIAVOLO I’M!!!!???? poor baby

#my posts #my theories #obey me spoilers #obey me!#obey me #swd obey me #shall we date? obey me!#obey me shall we date

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slstmaraudersjple · 3 years

Text

Collateral Damage

Via Lottie (klarolineagainnaturally):

Random thought: I would have loved an in depth talk between Klaus and Caroline in which she talked about him biting her both times and then she went into all the trauma she had suffered from all the other shit people put her through and he would be just absolutely horrified and angry that someone would do those things to her but also horrified and angry at himself. TVD really just did not give two fucks about exploring the trauma in its female characters and it shows

A/N: I know, I know. I’ve got some prompt requests I’m still working through. But Lottie (@klarolineagainnaturally) wrote the above post and it WOULD NOT leave my head until I sat down and wrote it out. So here you go, darling! I hope you enjoy this! AU canon-divergent from TVD episode 4x13 Into the Wild, after Klaus bites Caroline. I’ve adapted the dialogue because I didn’t feel like going back to re-watch the scene.

Trigger warning(s): mentions and discussions of rape and torture.

Collateral Damage

“If you don’t heal me, I’m going to die.” Her voice is oddly calm despite the panic coursing through her veins.

He looks at her, regret briefly flickering through his eyes, and then he shrugs, turning away from her as he murmurs, “Then Tyler will have learned a lesson.”

Angry tears form at the corners of her eyes, hot and wet and heavy.

“Then you’re just like the rest of them,” she says bitterly, mimicking his tone. But she’s unable to help the emotion seeping into her voice as she lashes out, “You say you’re different, but in the end you’re all the same. None of you give a damn about me as long as you get what you want. None of you give a shit about who hurts me or what happens to me as long as you have your precious Elena.”

Then, she turns away from him, curling up on the couch.

“I’m not going to beg you for anything. But you’re going to get to watch me die, and I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

XXXXX

True to her word, she stays silent, and he’s left to ponder over her words. The accusation in her voice, the hurt that she can’t quite hide, and the implications of her words.

“You’re just like the rest of them.”

He thinks over everything he knows about the baby vampire that’s caught his interest. Truth be told, he didn’t do much research on her prior to coming to Mystic Falls. All he knew was that she was a baby vampire, a friend of the doppelganger, and dating the Lockwood boy. He doesn’t know what happened to her prior to her becoming a vampire.

“None of you give a damn about me as long as you get what you want.”

He is starting to believe that this was a slight error on his part. Klaus knows that many think of him as a monster of legends, but there are lines that even he draws. The wheels start to turn in his head as he thinks about the people she associates with. The doppelganger, the Bennett witch, the Lockwood boy, and… the Salvatore brothers.

“None of you give a shit about who hurts me or what happens to me.”

He pauses on the last. She seems rather friendly with all of them… save for Damon Salvatore. Even if it’s never been said, he has noticed Caroline’s silent disdain towards the older Salvatore.

Not to mention, the falling out she’s had with Tyler.

And then there’s the relationship (or rather, lack of) with her often-absent mother.

His conclusions lead him to believe that not just one terrible thing has happened to this baby vampire, but several. And they make him furious.

And after pondering on these possibilities, each scenario he envisions worse than the next, he finally pulls himself out of his thoughts and turns his attention back to the object of his affections.

“Just what,” he finally responds after a couple hours, “did you mean by that, sweetheart?”

She’s quiet in response, unmoving.

For a moment, he thinks that she’s going to continue to give him the cold shoulder.

But finally, she says, her voice so low that only his hybrid hearing picked it up, “Why do you care?” She sounds tired and weary, and he can’t quite help the wave of guilt that crashes into him.

He’s seen his fair share of victims. Normally, he’s fine leaving them up to their fate. Survival of the fittest and all. But there’s something so utterly vulnerable about Caroline Forbes in this moment.

And then she says, “I’m so tired of it all.”

Like she’s giving up.

It’s such a stark contrast to the feisty, intelligent, clever, beautiful baby vampire he’s come to known. And that, Klaus thinks, is unacceptable.

He meant every single word he said to her – she’s beautiful, intelligent, full of light. But obviously she’s experienced something terrible if she’s not scared of him the way others normally are.

And if he’s going to get some answers, he can’t have her dying on him, now can he?

His mind made up, he strides forward, unaware of his own eyes flashing amber as he forcefully turns her over to face him. Caroline is far too pale for his liking, unresponsive to his touch. Without hesitation, he rips his fangs into his wrist, making sure his blood is running before pressing it to her lips.

He doesn’t let go until she’s drinking, and as he watches the color return to her cheeks, the thought occurs to him that she’s the only one he’s saved. And not just once, but twice.

Klaus would not consider himself a patient man, but he still gives the baby vampire a moment of grace to recollect herself before he sits back, letting the full weight of his gaze fall on her.

“Now,” he says, his voice booking no room for argument, “let’s chat, shall we?”

XXXXX

Caroline frowns. “Why do you care?”

“Humor me.” He says.

It’s the wrong response, because she shakes her head, scoffing as she turns away from him.

“I could compel you,” he says carefully, watching her face for her response.

And just as he suspects, she flinches, seeming to curl into herself as she presses against the couch. “Don’t you dare,” she snarls, not quite able to hide her growing fear.

“I won’t have to if you tell me,” he responds.

Caroline eyes him suspiciously, looking towards him but directly meeting his gaze. Clever girl, he thinks fondly.

But he braces himself, trying to keep the expression on his face calm as he prepares for he response.

The baby vampire seems to contemplate his words for a moment, deciding what to do.

She’s quiet for so long that Klaus begins to wonder if she’s going to clam up and refuse to speak to him for the next couple days.

But then she tells him.

Everything.

About Damon.

About the werewolves. Both times.

About her dad.

She refuses to look at him as she does so, instead burying her face into her knees as she wraps her arms around her legs, drawing them up. Her words are hollow, almost mechanical, as if she’s dissociating herself while she summarizes each event. And even though she leaves out some details, Klaus can very easily fill in the blanks for himself while soaking in her words.

She doesn’t see the growing horror on his face, the way his eyes widen, the way his throat turns dry.

Caroline has been tortured not once, but four times. Once while she was human. Three when she was a new vampire. And she’s only been a vampire for a couple years.

She doesn’t see the growing fury, the way his eyes flash golden, the way the veins on his face blacken.

Her so-called friends all knew about the compulsion and rape she suffered at Damon’s hands. And they didn’t care. Her so-called boyfriend knew about the torture she suffered at the hands of the werewolves, and he allowed it to happen. And being tortured by her own father for being a vampire…

She doesn’t see the tears that spring to the corners of his eyes as he watches her fall apart in front of him.

But what she does see, when she finally stops talking and dares to look up, is him. Sitting in front of her, on his knees, his hands carefully braced on either side of her, close but not touching.

He swallows and finally says, “I’m so sorry for everything you’ve suffered, sweetheart.”

The expression that crosses her face is equal parts confusion and equal parts suspicious. “But why?” Her voice is a little hoarse after talking for over an hour, her eyes red-rimmed, her face wet with tears both shed and unshed.

And in that moment, Klaus can’t help but think she’s the most beautiful being he’s ever met in his entire life. And that he’ll never meet another person like her in a million lifetimes.

“Because you didn’t deserve any of it.” His response is simple, honest, and unrestrained.

“Why?” There’s growing bewilderment in her voice now.

He pauses, thinking over his response before he decides to go with, “Is it really so hard to believe that for all my… faults, that there are some lines that even I don’t cross?”

Caroline stares at him for a long moment, and Klaus fidgets uncomfortably under the weight of her gaze. It feels like she’s looking into his soul and judging him, and he’s not quite sure how to feel about it. Finally, she says, “I think I believe you. But… why do you care? I’m nobody special or important. I’m just… a baby vampire. Shit happens.” Her words are slightly bitter, as if she’s repeating something she’s been told.

Klaus swallows, partially wanting to laugh at the absurdity of her words, of the reality of how she sees herself. He wants to shake the gods, because this baby vampire who has upturned his world cannot see herself the way he sees her.

He settles for shaking his head as he says, “You’re wrong. I once told you, you’re beautiful, strong, full of light. I fancy you. That hasn’t changed. You’re so strong after everything you’ve been through.”

Caroline looks at him, really looks at him this time. There’s an odd look on her face, and she says quietly, “I want to believe you. But I’m tired of being collateral damage, Klaus. When shit happens, I always get hurt. And no one ever cares to pick up the pieces. They expect me to just get over it and move on. And one day, things are going to get real bad, and I’ll probably die.”

An uncomfortable feeling overcomes him at her words, a strange clawing sensation in his chest, and before he can stop himself, he snarls, “I would never let that happen.”

She shakes her head, a sad smile on her lips as she says, “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, Klaus. You might feel it in this moment, but I’m not going to hold you to it.”

This time, Klaus shakes his head in response as he says, “I can’t go back and change the things that you’ve endured, Caroline. But I can do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Tyler might be your first love... but I intend to be your last.”

When Caroline opens her mouth to respond, he vows, “However long it takes.”

And he means it.

He doesn’t expect a response from her anytime soon, but by the contemplative expression that overcomes her…

He thinks that he just might have a chance.

Caroline’s quiet afterwards, eventually falling into a light slumber after the emotionally drainng ordeal she’s had, and he’s content to enjoy the silence while he plots.

The first thing he’s going to do when the Bennett witch’s spell fades is to hunt down and kill Silas.

Then, it looks like he’ll be having a chat with the rest of the Mystic Falls gang, starting with the werewolf boy and the older Salvatore.

And finally... he intends to continue the conversations started with his baby vampire. It’s clear to him that Caroline has suffered from the trauma she’s endured, and he’s going to show her that she can lean on him. She’s obviously mistrustful of him, for good reasons, but she has shown that she’s been willing to trust him on occasion.

It’s a start, and he will make the most of it.

(Starting with apologizing for the two times he’s bitten her.)

Caroline Forbes entered his life and turned it upside down, and if there’s anything Klaus is good at, it’s playing the long game.

And he plays for keeps.

XXXXX

FIN.

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #writing prompt #for lottie #klarolineagainnaturally

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denisn4te · 4 years

Text

Obey Me Zombie Apocalypse AU

Guys, I can not believe no one has made an Obey Me zombie apocalypse au so I decided fuck it and to make one even though I suck at writing and will probably forget this in my drafts later, but if I do ever post it then yeah uh enjoy I guess.

(The only reason I'm even doing this is because I've been playing The Walking Dead Game and I just started Season 3!)

~•~☆~•~

(The brothers are all human and the other characters will come later.)

Lucifer

When the apocalypse starts he was still a teenager at the age of 17 and had just had a big fight with his parents

He storms out, but once the zombies started rising he went back only to see that his parents and his sister, Lilith had died from a zombie attack.

Now he has the responsibility of his 6 brothers and a lot of guilt on his back.

He does most of the work when collecting food and supplies. His brothers try to help him sometimes, but he always says he can handle it by himself.

Unless he really does need help when he'll let Mammon and Levi help him since they're the older ones of the rest of the brothers.

Absolutely doesn't trust strangers. You're threatening to shoot him or his brothers? Yours kneecaps are busted. You're trying to steal their supplies? You spine is now bent into a perfect 90° angle. You're offering supplies and shelter? He'll think about it for 3 seconds, but always say no saying.

He's definitely the type to rather not settle down in one place. He likes to keep moving and if they ever were to stay in one place it would only be for one day/night.

And of course he has the best fighting skills. Works mostly with guns or sometimes even no weapon at all though he's better with a weapon.

He'll only trust people he used to know before the whole apocalypse started like schoolmates or surviving familly members though there isn't much left of either. Even then he is super protective of his brothers.

Would die at some point for dramatic effect and maybe some character development for the other brothers.

A bit cold to his bros sometimes and feels bad about it. He probably does so if anything happens to him his brothers might be able to move on better.

Has taught all the brothers something about how to use a gun in case anything were to happen to him. He'd start with Mammon, then Levi, and so on as the rest get older.

Always holds some type of knife on him no matter what.

Mammon

He's about 14 and still a little greedy shit always sneaking off to look for good loot and taking things without hesitation, but he always end up in the wrong places at the wrong time.

Nevers finds any good stuff sadly.

Causes the most trouble even though he doesn't mean to most of the time.

He wants his little brothers to look up to him, but he still has a lot of skills to work on before that will happen.

He's not that good at shooting, but he can run fast so he can hide most of the time. Though he can be squeamish at times.

Keeps the mood up in the group when times get tough. He gets annoying a lot though due to him being a bit immature.

If anything were to happen to Lucifer he'd slowly learn how to take more responsibility and mature. Maybe even become a better shot.

If not then he continues to be childish, but he still gets better little by little over time.

Doesn't carry guns due to his rather poor shooting skills, but he's good with knives.

Leviathan

He has a lot of anxiety for a 12 year old.

Levi gets scared a lot, but he is really curious too. He often sneaks off with Mammon to explore.

Still an otaku and usually explores the manga stores a lot looking for any leftover volumes. Most of the times he'll be reading manga since he clearly can't play video games due to most of the power being out.

I get a feeling Levi would somehow make/find a bow and arrow or crossbow since he's not good at close range combat.

I'd say he would be good at aiming, but he would probably be too afraid to pull the trigger since guns are loud.

If he were to be an archer he would go hunt animals every now and then, but he feels bad when he kills fish since it reminds him of Henry 2.0 which they sadly had to leave behind.

As he grows up he would become less afraid and maybe even learn how to use a gun without getting scared. He'll always prefer crossbows and bows though since they're cooler and more quiet.

Still likes to ramble about his interests and the more I think about it he probably would be kinda like Duck from the Walking Dead Game.

Satan

Is dangerously smart for a 10 year old and some people tend to forget that he's still a young kid due to how mature he is.

Usually cause a lot of the trouble to mess with Lucifer since their relationship isn't all that great in this AU either and it didn't get any better when Lilith and their parents died.

Unlike some of his brothers he likes the idea of settling down and having a place to stay. Satan would definitely get into arguments with Lucifer about it when he gets older.

He's still pretty young so his fighting skills aren't great, but he easily can outnumber most of his brothers in other skills.

Always keeps on a grumpy face no matter what the situation is and that frightens his brothers a lot.

Whenever they come across a cat he finally lets go of the grumpy face and just adores the feline(s) they came across.

He always begs to bring all the cats along with them, but Lucifer always says no cause they can't have pets right now. Satan doesn't talk for a whole week everytime that happens.

When he grows up he definitely begins to form some rather impressive fighting skills that are not as great as Lucifer's, but could definitely rival his older brother's.

Being so mature for his age he tends to walk away from the rest of the group a lot sometimes thinking he'd be better off alone. He always finds his way back though.

Has the best healing skills and usually is responsible for carrying the first aid kit even though at the age of 10 he only fixes up small cuts and bruises.

Asmodeus

I love him, but he would not make it 2 days on his own.

Not just because he's an 8 year old, but he is squeamish and honestly quite weak in general.

Still loves attention so he usually likes to try and keep the mood in the group up like Mammon to have the attention on him.

That trait of his quickly goes away as things get worse and they need to focus on surviving more.

First time someone tried to teach him how to defend himself he was not okay for about a week.

He gets really grossed out when he watches his older brothers kill zombies and gags a lot.

Has no fighting skills at all. Like he knows how to use a gun, but that's it and he's not even good at using one either.

He does have some decent skills in fleeing and sneaking though which is good.

When Asmo actually does kill a zombie or person for the first time he couldn't look at a gun for a while or any weapon.

Definitely the type to just freeze in fear a lot which makes him feel like a burden sometimes cause it holds up the others at times.

Surprisingly good at scavenging and healing. Not as good as Satan of course, but it helps.

As time goes on he develops a bit of anxiety and this causes him to stay in his own lane most of the time.

Would run into Soloman at some point and that really helped ease him down. He knew Soloman before the apocalypse started and is really glad to see his old friend again.

I feel like at some point when he's older he might gets thoughts about leaving the group like Satan maybe with Soloman.

If he were to leave the group I feel like the chances he would see his brothers again are slim. Sad, but most likely true. It is the apocalypse after all.

Beelzebub

He and Belphie are both 6 years old and just like in canon, they're extremely close to eachother.

Beel will always help Belphie first in any situation.

He might be the second youngest, but is already a pretty strong kid for his age and when he grows up he'll definitely do a lot of the work like fighting off enemies and hunting.

For now he just carries some supplies and even Belphie when he gets tired.

He still blames himself for Lilith's death and it weighs very heavy on him.

Does very good when it comes to close range combat, but it takes him a while to fully understand how to use far range weapons like crossbows and guns.

Still eats a lot and very good at scavenging, but not trusted to cause he usually eats the food he find instead of telling the others. He just a hungry boi.

He also doesn't care about the whole staying in one place or keep moving and is always on the fence about it.

Belphegor

The brother that absolutely cannot be left on their own cause he can't take care of himself for shiiiiii-

Just like canon he is almost always sleeping and puts little to no effort in a lot of things making him the weakest brother.

Unlike his twin his skills are not great and he knows this.

He still hates Lucifer and blames him for their parents' and sister's death. If he hadn't stormed off the day this all started they would have been alive.

His skills don't develop much when he gets older so he's better off with other people and also likes the idea of having to stay in one place instead of constantly traveling one place to another.

He really hates using weapons. Especially guns cause they're too loud and close range weapons take up too much energy, but there is that extremely rare occasion where he does kill something. That only happens when he's older though.

His fleeing/sneaking skills are trash too and prefers someone to carry him when they do have to get away from something. Belphie doesn't care who it is carrying him just don't make him run.

He knows only a bit about healing which is mostly just him putting bandages on cuts.

~•~☆~•~

Part 2!

Okay guys that's pretty much it for now! Sorry if this wasn't great I tried and it was quite fun making it! I might even try drawing things for this AU, but I'll probably do the undateables later!

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dhwty-writes · 3 years

Text

Nightmares

This is part 4 of my fic for @heyabooboo for the @thewitchersecretsanta.

Welcome to the the longest (and angstiest) chapter of this fic! Compared to the others that are found in this fandom, this is fairly mild, but please heed the tags. And have fun reading!

Summary: Having braved the nightmare of figuring out the meaning of a near incomprehensible poem, one should think that the nightmares of the netherworld come to an end. Alas, Destiny is not as kind. Retracing their steps, Jaskier is taken to the darkest chapters of his and Geralt's lives.

Moodboard by the amazing @petrificustotaluss

Warnings: canon typical violence, we see Geralt and Jaskier’s shitty childhood in here, and the trial of the grasses, but nothing too explicit. Rated T

Read on AO3

It was, admittedly, a bit strange, to say the least, to keep walking backwards with his eyes affixed on the horizon. He extended his arms to get a better balance, still he tripped and stumbled over rocks and tree stumps and thin air. It probably would've been easier with just a glance over his shoulder. But-

'No,' he decided. 'I mustn't lose my goal from sight.' If he was entirely honest, that was probably the most difficult part.

Many people assume that in a netherworld without a physical body they cannot be troubled by such trivial things such as the paltry ache of keeping your eyes open without blinking. That is untrue.

There are some aspects of humanity that are so ingrained into the core of their very being that they cannot imagine a world without it. Boogers, for example, and armpit hair, or sweat. Or the pressing urge to blink.

And no matter how much Jaskier tried to fight it, there was just no hope of escaping the burn.

He blinked.

The scenery in front of him had changed. "What the fuck?" he murmured quietly as he took in the familiar countryside.

It was late in autumn it seemed; most of the trees had already shrugged off their colourful cloaks of withered leaves, though the first snow was yet to come. In front of him, a beautiful keep rose up at the horizon. The walls of limestone were pristine as ever, the red shingles glistening after a recent rain shower, bright banners flapping in the wind. The whole image looked as if plucked from a nightmarish fairy tale. "Huh," he muttered to himself. "Didn't expect I'd end up here of all places." Self-consciously he tugged at the cuffs of his blue silk doublet. Hadn't he been naked?

He decided not to think about that too much and instead be grateful for the armour that would protect him from piecing stares and cutting comments. He had no time for it either, for within the blink of an eye his vision shifted again and he stood within the empty courtyard.

'Strange.' There should be guards. Servants. The Count or Countess perhaps. Instead, there was nothing but eerie quiet and wisps of fog curling around his feet. It was almost enough for him to feel concern rising within hi-

"Julian Alfred Pankratz!" Jaskier froze on instinct, the booming voice bearing down on him like whip lashes.

‘Fuck.’ Twenty years. Twenty years since he had last returned home, and still— His heart was beating frantically in his chest, as if it wanted to jump right out of it. Given his previous experiences in this place, he didn't consider this impossible. 'Shit,' he cursed silently. 'It just had to be Lettenhove, hadn't it?'

He screwed his eyes shut, to drown out the litany of his father, the words nearly indistinguishable through the thick haze clouding his mind, though still drawing closer.

When he finally opened them again and had managed to blink away the bright lights distorting his vision, he realised he wasn't outside anymore. Instead, he was standing in front of a nondescript double door he knew like the back of his hand and had hoped to never see again.

It stood the slightest bit ajar, just so that he could peer inside. There was his father behind his desk, Lord Lettenhove intimidating as always. And- Jaskier frowned.

A little boy standing in front of him, with a mop of brown hair and a silken doublet that looked much like the one Jaskier was wearing. His mouth formed a silent 'O.' He couldn't see the boy's face, nor betrayed his body a single thing, yet he knew that he was crying.

'This isn't real,' he understood. 'This is a memory.'

"Father, please-" the boy begged, but his voice broke and shoulders gave the slightest tremble, the only hint of the terror that stole his and Jaskier's voices alike. 'For the fearless no success,' he reminded himself. 'Well, I'm fucking terrified. I'm getting out of here.'

He wanted to close his eyes so that this strange world would bring him to another place. But they didn't. No matter how adamantly he ordered them to shut, his eyelids didn't budge. 'Poor boy,' a voice in the back of his mind said. 'Poor me. I can't leave like this.'

"Well, Sir?" his father asked coldly. "Don't you have anything to say in your defence?"

Jaskier screwed his eyes shut, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. He cursed quietly: "Get it together, Jaskier!" He hadn't dealt with stage fright for nearly thirty years to succumb to fear now. So, he squared his shoulders and passed through the oaken wood of the door.

"Actually, your lordship," he spoke up, "I do."

Lord Lettenhove whirled around and gasped. "You!" he spit out and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Where have you been? Your mother is worried sick."

"She isn't," he said casually and strolled over to his child self. "She never is. Besides, she's been dead for a decade." He went down on one knee to get on eye level with him. "Hello there," he greeted him with a smile he hoped to be reassuring. "It certainly has been a while."

Julian raised his gaze, his eyes puffy and red with tears, the fear lingering even now. For a moment he couldn't help but stare in bewilderment. 'Was it really that bad?' He hadn't even remembered.

"Who are you?" Julian asked.

"A scoundrel," their father huffed indignantly, "and a coward."

Jaskier's smile grew even wider. "He's right," he confessed. "I am you, little one. Just without- this." He waved his hand around vaguely.

Julian's eyes widened even further, his gaze flicking around nervously. Finally, it settled on the lute case. "Are you a bard?" he whispered secretively.

"A failure," their father commented, "a disgrace upon our name."

He ignored him. "Oh no, little one. I am no mere bard. I am an adventurer, a poet, a minstrel. I am all that you dream to be and more. I am Jaskier, the most renowned troubadour of the Continent. But most importantly, I am alive. I am real. And you, my lord," slowly he rose to his feet and turned to their father, "are nothing."

"Excuse you?" he gasped. "You will take that back, young man."

"No," he answered calmly. "I don't think I will. I was taught to always tell the truth, so tell the truth I shall. And that truth is that you, father, are not deserving of any obedience or respect a son owes his parents. And least of all love."

Lord Lettenhove sneered. "You are no son of mine," he spat out and for a moment those words were enough to make Jaskier tense up. He could well remember when he had heard them—and seen his family—the last time. He could still taste the despair on his tongue, the tears running down his cheeks, the overwhelming urge to beg-

"No," he interrupted the spiral of hopelessness that threatened to drag him away. 'I have reimagined my memories hundreds of times. I can do it again.' He straightened his back and raised his chin. "No, Alfred, I am not. You wish you had a son like me."

"I do not-"

Jaskier scoffed and turned his back to him. He had spent far too much time listening to his father in his life already, he did not plan on doing it any longer. "Hey, Julian," he said instead, "do you want to hear a poem? How about a limerick?"

The Count de Lettenhove gasped indignantly: "Julian, how- Such verses are beneath us."

"And they are above your intellect," he retorted with a wink at Julian. "Let's see, I think I've got a good one:

There once was a Countlet named Alfred,

Whose aim was to cause fright and dread.

He thought himself smart

For he despised the arts,

Alas, he was dumber than bread."

Julian's eyes gleamed and he snickered. Well. He considered that a good start. "Another?" he challenged and the boy nodded eagerly. "How about this?

There once was a Redanian Countess

Who was famed for her martial prowess.

She boasted she taught

Her son to wield a sword,

But was beaten by a pigeon at chess.”

Giggling, Julian almost didn't look scared anymore. "A last one, yeah?" Jaskier proposed and he nodded eagerly. "This one I know from a friend. Ready?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Alright." He cleared his throat and said with as much dignity and gravitas as possible: "Lambert, Lambert, what a prick."

By now Julian was laughing openly, nearly doubling over with the force of it. 'There,' Jaskier thought with a satisfied smile, 'that's better.'

He blinked.

The road that led through the early-summer forest was empty except for a cart disappearing in the distance. Jaskier frowned and turned around. What on earth had led him here? As far as he could remember it, he had never seen that place before. Plus, there was no-one around.

Maybe he was just supposed to follow the road. With a shrug Jaskier decided that was as good a guess as any and began walking. He hadn't gotten far when he heard the prattling of tiny feet behind him. "Ma?" a young boy shouted. "Ma!"

Jaskier wanted to keep on walking. He didn’t know this boy, so this hardly concerned him. He rally tried to keep on walking. Really. But something made him turn around. Maybe the fear in the boy's cry: "Ma!" Probably the sob when he yelled: "Visenna!"

The boy couldn't be any older than seven years at most, probably he was younger still, and there were tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. "Ma?" he asked again.

"Sorry, buddy," Jaskier said. "No-one around but me."

"But- She said- She told me to get water," he stammered. "She was thirsty."

"Oh." His heart sank. What was he even supposed to tell him? That she was surely coming back? That was a lie, no mother left her child in the woods with the intention of coming back. He had seen it often enough in the past. Mostly it was because of hunger, or sickness, sometimes just good old poverty as well. Some of the children were believed to be cursed, or changelings, or whatever other thing humans came up with to keep hurting each other.

This child, however, did not seem to fit any of the categories. He looked almost disturbingly boring. He was well-fed and properly clothed as well, a healthy blush on his cheeks. Jaskier had no idea what had led the mother to abandon him out here. "I'm sorry," was the best he managed. The boy's lower lip wobbled dangerously. 'Please don't start crying,' Jaskier begged whichever higher power was listening. He was shit with children; he couldn't handle a crying one. "What's your name?" he asked, trying to prevent the inevitable.

"Geralt," the boy answered with a frail voice.

"Oh," Jaskier said again. 'Oh, fuck,' he thought. No wonder he didn't recognise the memory—it was taking place over half a century before he was even born. "Geralt," he repeated stupidly. Geralt as a child. Geralt before the trials. Geralt who had, presumably, just been abandoned before heading to Kaer Morhen. Geralt who was just about to cry.

'Shit.' He had to do something. And fast. "Well, Geralt, I'm glad that I stumbled upon you here. I couldn't imagine braving the way through this wilderness on my own."

The boy frowned—an expression that looked much cuter on this Geralt than on the one Jaskier was acquainted with. "I know you," he decided after a few moments.

"Yes," he agreed. "You will. Come, I tell you a story while we walk."

He started walking into the direction the cart had left. Boy-Geralt hurried to catch up with him and slipped his hand in his. "You look funny," he remarked.

Jaskier snorted. "It's called fashion, thank you very much." He regarded him with a fond, wry smile. "I'm glad not everything about you changes once you grow up."

"Are you a prince?" Geralt asked as if Jaskier hadn't said anything at all. 'The selective deafness isn't new either, I see.'

"Not quite," he answered honestly. "I am a Viscount, but that's unimportant. You will know me as a bard and the most annoying creature in existence."

"A bard?" he asked excitedly, skipping along next to him. "I will know a bard? Will you sing songs of me? Will we be friends?"

"All of that and more," he chuckled. "Although you won't always be grateful for it."

"I can't imagine that." They walked barely two paces in silence before Geralt asked: "Will I be a knight? Will I slay a dragon? Is that why I will know you?"

"No," Jaskier answered as kindly as he could. "You will save a dragon. As a witcher."

"A witcher?" Geralt's eyes went wide in horror. "No, that can't be! Witchers are scary!"

"Well, you can be very scary," he agreed. "But most of the time you aren't. You see, there was this one time when we were travelling and you found a dog. It was old, and had a broken leg and had been left to die in the woods. But instead of killing it, you set its bone, heaved it onto your horse's back and found a place for it to stay. You weren't with me then, but a few years later I visited the same town and it was still there, hale and hearty."

He glanced down at the boy to check if he had the boy’s attention. Of course, he had; Geralt was practically hanging on his lips. "Oh, or that other time when you were hired to slay a troll and we chose to remigrate him instead. Sounds easy enough, right?"

Geralt nodded.

"Well, it wasn't. You see, while trolls are certainly smarter than... drowners, let's say, they are not terribly intelligent. We tried talking to him, wasted half a night while doing so—because we couldn't remigrate him during the day, since you were supposed to kill him—until we managed to explain to him that he should get up and follow us. It worked until we reached another bridge where he had lived previously, as it seemed. He decided he might just as well live there again, and then we had to remigrate him again." Jaskier laughed at the memory. "I think we repeated that four times at least. And didn't even get paid in the end, can you believe that?"

"Another," Geralt begged eagerly. "Please, tell another one.

"Alright," Jaskier agreed. And so, he did what he did best: singing Geralt of Rivia's praises. He talked until his throat was raw, and kept on talking after that. Only when the sun set and Geralt fell almost asleep on his feet, did they seek out a place to rest.

They found a nice dry spot next to a stream, just like Geralt would teach him almost a century from now. Jaskier dug a pit to start a campfire, as Geralt collected firewood, and dug out some dried rations from his pack, that had miraculously appeared along the way. Once they were both sated, he laid his bedroll out for the boy and took the first watch. Well, the only watch, more like it.

He leaned against a log they had dragged onto the clearing together, plucking idly at his lute strings to accompany an old lullaby he half-remembered his nursemaid singing. Satisfied, he watched as the boy fell asleep and only then, finally, did exhaustion wash over him. He felt so drained, from walking for what felt like weeks without a break. He'd just set his lute down and rest his eyes for a little bit and—

He blinked.

"Get out!" the innkeeper barked and Jaskier sprung to his feet. "Get out, you useless bastard! And don't bother coming back in."

"Fuck," he cursed quietly as he lunged to catch the man—boy, really—that was about to land face-first in the mud. Too late. The Oxenfurt graduate was already eating dirt. And not moving. Well, that was concerning. "Are you alright?" Jaskier asked.

"Ow," the boy groaned, still without so much as lifting his head.

He flopped down next to his younger self with a sigh. "Yeah, I know. Bruised ego hurts like shit. But no broken bones at least, eh?"

"This time."

He winced. He'd forgotten how shitty it had been before he had become famous. "You need to get up," he told him without too much empathy. Whining would get them nowhere. "You'll ruin your doublet else, and we both know that you don't have the coin for a new one. No-one likes a dirty bard." Besides, they had to greet a witcher in the very same get-up not quite two months from now.

"I hate you," Julian-Jaskier grumbled as he got himself into a sitting position.

"You hate the world and think that's the same as hating yourself and everyone around you," he corrected him. "There's a difference." He had also forgotten his dramatics of his teenage years, it seemed. Not that he was keen to remember them.

The bardlet rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. "What do you want? I really had a shitty day and don't need a visit from... what even is this? Future me?"

"Something like that," Jaskier grumbled. "Believe me, I'm not thrilled to be here either."

"Then go away."

"Can't," he explained. "Not until I help you... or something."

"Help me?" He snorted. "How are you supposed to help me?"

The thing was, Jaskier wasn't quite sure either. There really was no helping him; he had no money to give and besides, that wouldn't make much of a difference either. It never had, not until he stole the lute from the drunk disgrace of a bard in a month, at least. Wait a minute-

"A lute!" he exclaimed.

"Huh?"

"I have a lute, I can give it to you," Jaskier babbled excitedly and scrambled to his feet.

"And how's that going to help me?" Julian-Jaskier asked sceptically.

"Performances, you idiot! No-one wants to listen to just a bard; everyone loves bards with lutes. It's right— shit." He grabbed his lutestrap to find— nothing.

"What?" he scoffed. "Lost it or something?"

"What? Lost it?" He laughed nervously. "No, that's ridiculous. I just, um—" He started patting down his breeches, as if he might have hidden it there. "—misplaced it, that's it." He turned on the spot, searching the ground. He had just put it down when Geralt had gotten tired and— "Fuck!"

"You lost it?"

"I lost it."

Julian-Jaskier laughed. Actually laughed. "What?" he asked when he saw Jaskier's resentful glare. "Don't tell me you've stopped looking on the bright side of life."

"How is this the bright side?!"

"Oh, I don't know," he flashed him a wide grin. "I actually consider you losing the lute you wanted to gift—"

"Lend!"

"—yourself rather funny."

"Ughh!" Jaskier exclaimed and pointed an accusatory finger in his direction. "You are a brat." He had no time for that. He needed to go back to Geralt and get the lute. He blinked. Nothing happened. He blinked again. And again, and again, and again, and again. Nothing. "Fuck!"

Julian-Jaskier grinned even wider. "You do realise the comedic potential in this scene, right?"

"I don't care about the comedic potential! I just want my fucking lute!" He turned away from the annoyance—really, how Geralt had allowed him to travel with him was beyond him. Oh right. He hadn't—and stared at the sky. "Hey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "You there, looking at all of this! Coram Agh Tera? Wade? Well, whatever your name is, you wanker, take me back to the previous one! I need my lute!"

Nothing. Well, not exactly nothing, there was the barely stifled snorting laughter of Julian-Jaskier in the background, but he decided to ignore that, so it was basically nothing. "Come on, mate! I just forgot my lute! How am I supposed to help this one without a lute?"

Still no answer.

"You know, I don't really think this is going to work," Julian-Jaskier quipped.

"Shut the fuck up, you midget. I know that!"

He sighed and finally got to his feet, grimacing as he took in the ruined fabric of his breeches. "I'm sure there's another way to help me besides conjuring up your lute from thin air."

"Well, probably," Jaskier hissed, "but in any case, I'd really like my lute back. It's my lute, alright, I'm attached to it. I get it three months from now and I want it back! Right now! Right here in my hands!"

The weight was sudden and entirely unexpected, so Jaskier actually stumbled a bit. Flabbergasted, he stared down at Filavandrel's lute in his hands. "Oh," he said simply. "I suppose that works."

Julian-Jaskier looked very stupid when surprised. 'Gods, I hope I don't look like that,' Jaskier prayed. Given that his looks had barely changed since that day, however, he didn't have all too high hopes. "How did you do that?" the bardlet asked.

"I don't know," he admitted truthfully. "I just wished really hard to have a lute."

"Brilliant." His eyes gleamed. "Do you think I can do that, too?"

"No," he answered simply and thrust the lute into his hands. "Just go and do your fucking performance. I have places to be."

"Alright, alright!" Julian-Jaskier agreed and took off running towards the tavern.

'I should really do something about the dirt,' Jaskier thought as he took in the mud-caked seam of his pants.

He blinked.

The dirt was gone.

Julian-Jaskier looked down at himself and grinned. "Thank you!" he shouted back over the pristine shoulder of his doublet and vanished inside.

He blinked.

His surroundings melted away once more and rebuilt themselves in a town square. Jaskier frowned, trying to remember if it looked familiar. He didn't think so, though it was hard to tell. After the first hundred or so, they all started to blur together.

What was strange, though, were the people. There were quite a lot of them and he didn't recognise any of them. 'Weird,' he thought. Come to think of it, he wasn't quite sure he had even seen their clothes before. It reminded him of the garb his parents and grandparents used to wear when he'd been a child. It had to be one of Geralt's memories, then.

The faint ringing of swords filled the air as terror gripped him. "Oh no," Jaskier whispered hoarsely as his surroundings shifted again in a nauseating whirl.

He blinked.

Even before he saw the woman's corpse he knew exactly where—or rather when—he was. Geralt had never told him of this story, not really, at least. But he had heard rumours, and then, after meeting the witcher, had gathered as many stories as he could to find, to get to the truth at the core of it.

"Incredible," an old, bearded man said as he knelt at her side. "Marilka," he said and stumbled to his feet. "Marilka? Marilka! Get me a cart. We'll take her to the tower for an autopsy."

Jaskier felt the overwhelming urge to punch Stregobor in the face. He probably could have. He probably should have. But before he had a chance, there was a bloodied blade at the mage's throat. "If you touch a single hair on her head," Geralt growled, "yours will be on the ground next." It was Geralt, quite obviously so. Still, he looked different. Younger, in a way. Much less guarded than the man he knew, with a wild look in his eyes Jaskier had never seen before.

"Have you gone mad?" Stregobor asked. "Her mutation, it influences people. That's how she got these men to follow her." His eyes narrowed just a bit. "She got to you, too, didn't she?"

"Do not," Geralt snarled, "touch her."

"Witcher," the mage answered in the most condescending voice imaginable and, oh, Jaskier definitely would punch him now, "you butchered bodies in the streets of Blaviken."

"You're a beast," a man called from the crowd.

"You endangered the girl," a woman added and Jaskier decided that all of them could bugger off, thank you very much.

"I think this is quite enough," he said calmly as he stepped forward, shifting in front of Geralt as time came to a halt. "Lower your sword, dear. Please."

The witcher stared down at him in confusion. "What-" He blinked a few times and his gaze cleared. "Jaskier," he whispered.

"The very same," he said and bowed with a flourish. "The sword, love." He squeezed his hand lightly and watched with relief as Geralt did as he was told. "Let me take care of this mess for you."

The witcher nodded and the world started spinning again. "Good people of Blaviken," he began and opened his arms. The familiar weight of his lute appeared much faster than the first time. "You can count yourselves lucky, for on this day you are in the presence of not only the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia, but also the master bard Jaskier. Truly, you are in for the performance of a lifeti-"

"Jaskier," Geralt hissed quietly.

"Yes, dear?"

"This is not really the place for a performance." He pointed at the corpses and the townspeople who stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. Ughh. Right. And then there was also-

"Who do you even think you are?" puffed Stregobor.

"Jaskier, the bard, and I don't like repeating myself," he quipped. "So, I suggest you shut the fuck up, old man." Immediately, his mouth snapped shut. Still, Jaskier wasn't finished: "You are a bumbling idiot who keeps babbling about some mutation nonsense. It's not her fault that you have the charisma of a wooden spoon and lack any kind of imagination. Really, it is not that hard to believe that a woman could inspire people. You are a pitiful creature."

The people around him still stared in open-mouthed bewilderment. "Close your mouth, dear, I'm not done, yet," he told Geralt and tipped his jaw up. He really should do something about all the bodies.

Jaskier frowned, concentrating hard. Shrouds appeared from thin air and covered the corpses and the blood vanished from Geralt's face. "Jaskier," the witcher growled, annoyed. Alright, maybe he had overdone it with the flower crown, but this was a dream world; when would he ever get such a chance again? "Focus."

Right. Not his strong suit, but he had a performance to deliver. And that was very much his strong suit. Gently, he plucked at the lute strings, the notes almost manifesting before he did so. "When a humble bard," he began; the song came as easy to him as breathing.

The audience didn't seem too enthusiastic. It took him until the end of the first refrain to realise why. "Oh," he said, his lute making a dissonant twang. "I suppose I'm just about two decades early with this, aren't I?" Of course. How could he have been so stupid? 'Well, only one way to change that.'

"Toss a coin to your Witcher," he sang loudly, "Oh, valley of plenty

Oh, valley of plenty, oh

Toss a coin to your Witcher

Oh, valley of plenty!"

He blinked.

The wind tugged at him to the tune of a camp being set up. Jaskier knew where he was even before he opened his eyes. "Ah," he breathed, taking in the silhouette of Geralt sitting on the rock. And his own self approaching him. "Shit." He winced in sympathy for his heartbroken, aching self. Well, not heartbroken yet, but soon to be.

He wasn't surprised, to be honest. Not really. But fuck was he afraid of it. With all the other scenes he'd had at least a semblance of an idea of how to fix them. But this? He couldn't really change himself, could he now?

In the end, it had all worked out just fine, of course. Geralt and he had found each other again and after a bit of awkwardness and a muttered apology by Geralt they had continued travelling with each other again. While his witcher definitely wasn't a man of words, Jaskier could see his remorse just fine. He was fluent in all of Geralt's silences, and the plethora of gifts and smiles he got was better than any spoken apology in the world.

Still. It hurt.

Geralt shifted a bit, hearing his footsteps. Jaskier had to do something, and fast. "That's not really going to cut it," he muttered. His blubbering, yearning self wasn't going to be of any more assistance now than the last time. "Sorry, mate, but you have to go." With an ever so quiet pop the other Jaskier vanished.

It earned him a gruff Geralt grunt. "Jaskier," the witcher said without even turning around. "What do you want?"

'Alright, so we're doing this,' he thought and did his best to steel himself. "Nothing but a chat, old friend," he tried to say as casually as possible and sat down next to him. "Just like the good old days, hm?"

"Hmm."

"Funny. I thought you'd say that," he replied in a feeble attempt at comedy.

Geralt rolled his eyes, but didn't manage to hide the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth quite fast enough. "Jaskier."

"Not helping?"

"Hmm."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah, didn't think so."

He waited with bated breath for his witcher to say something, but apparently, he considered their conversation done. 'Looks like I have to talk myself out of this mess,' he thought. 'Like always.'

Time to put his money where his mouth was: "Look," he said and wet his lip with his tongue. "I know how it feels when people die. It's always hard. And it doesn't get any easier the more it happens."

"Your point, bard?"

He closed his eyes. He still didn't have any fucking clue on how to solve this. Only one way to go, then: "I have a proposition for you I already know the answer to. But—" He took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm his violently beating heart. "It's all been a bit much, lately, yeah? All these... djinns and children of surprise and dragons. So, why don't we get away for a while? We could head to the coast."

Geralt snorted. "Never took you for the maritime type."

"Well, I'm not," Jaskier answered, glad for the tension to lift, if only a little. "I get horribly seasick, you see? But that's not the point."

"Then what is?" They were going for the fond annoyance, apparently. It certainly was an improvement to last time.

It also loosened Jaskier's tongue; he could barely keep himself from babbling and that really wouldn't make it better. "Life's too short to spend it being unhappy. You should do what pleases you while you can."

"Composing your next song?" And there it was. The moment he'd inevitably fuck up.

"No, I just, uh-" He let his head drop. "I'd say I'm just trying to figure out what pleases me, but that's a lie. I figured that out a long time ago."

"Sleeping with other people's spouses is not really a life goal, Jaskier."

"Oh, ha ha," he retorted. "Very funny. But that's not— That's not what I'm talking about."

"What, we still haven't reached the fucking point?" he asked with the slightest hint of a smirk.

"No, I— Gosh, this is harder than I thought. It's you, Geralt. You're what pleases me."

The witcher turned to him with incredibly wide eyes despite the frown. As if he was surprised. As if he couldn't fathom why Jaskier would say that.

He shrugged. "It's true. I'm never as happy as I am at your side. Just spending time with you. You're the most important person in this world to me. In any world, really. I couldn't— I cannot bear losing you. Maybe it's selfish, but I just— I just want to have you for myself for a bit. Not share you with those who are hellbent on killing you. Not share you with anyone."

"Hmm." Geralt tilted his head to the side, a curious look Jaskier couldn't quite decipher in his eyes. In all the years of their acquaintance he had never, ever looked at him like that.

"Just— let me show you?" he begged. "Please? I know it's not what-"

But Geralt didn't let him finish. "Alright," he interrupted him. "Tomorrow."

He blinked.

Geralt stood a few feet away with Borch and Yennefer. "The sorceress will never regain her womb," he caught the last remnants of their conversation. "And though you didn't want to lose her, you will."

"He already has," Yennefer answered with a frail voice and stormed away. Jaskier scrambled to his feet when she passed him, catching Geralt's longing gaze.

'Shit,' he thought. This would be heartbreak all over again. 'It always was going to be.'

Geralt looked down at Borch. "Hmm," he said and trudged over to Jaskier. "The coast, you said?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered.

"Hm." He shouldered past him and grumbled: "They better have some good fucking ale there." After a few steps he realised that Jaskier wasn't following him and turned around. "You coming?" he asked with an outstretched hand.

"I am," he replied and scrambled to catch up with him. "In my experience, they also have excellent vodka," Jaskier joked and grasped Geralt's hand tightly.

He blinked.

It was a clear day on the cliffside. The ocean stretched out to the horizon in all its deep, dark blue glory, its waves crashing gently on the rocky shore. "Oh," Jaskier simply said.

"Hmm," Geralt replied and draped an arm around his shoulders to pull him closer.

'This is so much better than being here alone,' he thought. "It's beautiful," he said.

"It's nice," Geralt said. From the witcher that was probably as poetic as it got. And, oh, that curious look in Geralt's eyes looked even better with a smile accompanying it.

A warm feeling filled his chest. 'I really could get used to this,' he thought. "There's another thing, Geralt," he blurted suddenly. "I lo-"

He blinked.

The world turned upside down. He cursed himself for being so fucking stupid. Because, of course, he had not only ruined the probably single-most romantic scene to confess his feelings for Geralt, the worst also, apparently, was still ahead of him.

Jaskier had never been to Kaer Morhen before. Geralt hadn't even trusted him enough to betray so much as the smallest detail of its location. Still, there could be no doubt as to where he had ended up this time. Not with the vials and jars and jugs full of dubiously coloured liquids. Not with the witcher and mage looming over the scene, whose presence Jaskier barely registered.

All he saw were the wide, terrified, hazel eyes of the boy straining against the shackles tying him to the table. "No," Geralt begged, "please, Vesemir, I can't."

"Yes, you can," the old witcher answered. "It'll be over before you know it."

"No," Jaskier whispered, his eyes widening in horror. "No, I won't let that—"

He blinked.

Vesemir was gone, though Jaskier thought he might hear the distant sound of retching. The mage was still there, mumbling quietly in Elder.

"No!" he shouted again and leapt forward to push him back, to get him to stop, to- His hands passed right through him. As if he wasn't even there. As if he was a ghost. "No, stop, I won't-!"

He blinked.

The pain hit him completely unprepared, punching the air from his lungs. Wheezing, Jaskier staggered on his feet. He felt himself reminded of his first meeting with Geralt. Only that this time it didn't stop.

He could feel the burn of the toxins in his veins as his blood rushed, his body twisting, fighting, transforming. The boy on the table strained against his shackles, his mouth open with a silent plea he could not utter.

Jaskier could, though. Blinding pain ripped through his body as his knees gave out beneath him. A horrible scream erupted from his mouth, agony consuming any semblance of humanity.

After what seemed an eternity the pain ebbed off again; the burning fire in his body still pulsing, threatening to come back.

"No," Jaskier whispered, his vision still clouded from agony, but Geralt was still there. Had to still be there. "I won't let you suffer."

White hot pain surged again. "No!" he commanded, cried, sobbed. "No... Please—!" He screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed, until his throat was sore, raw, burning. He screamed and screamed and screamed until he could no more and Geralt and he were coughing up blood.

The pain flared and Jaskier's voice gave out. 'I can't do this any longer.' He didn't- He couldn't- He couldn't talk. 'But I don't need words to imagine.'

With a trembling hand he reached out, strained until his fingertips grazed over Geralt's arm— And collapsed. Jaskier sobbed, and thrashed, and curled himself up into a little ball, suddenly wishing for the same chains Geralt wore. That way he had at least something to hold onto. Jaskier had nothing.

Nothing but pain.

An agonised whine sounded from above him. Jaskier whimpered. He wanted to reach out, wanted to soothe him, wanted to— But he couldn't. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move, he barely could think as the world flickered around him. He wasn’t strong enough.

He sobbed. ‘No,’ he thought. 'No, it can’t end here, I can’t wake up yet, I need to stay— I need it to make it stop for him. I need to, I have to, I must.'

He braced himself. The world flickered again. A soft sound of music floated down to him, a chant in Elder. For the next onslaught he was ready. As ready as one could be. He breathed in, let the pain fill him until it almost became too much. 'No,' he decided. Then again, more forceful: 'No! This is not who you are.' The pain twisted and churned in his gut, like liquid fire, but he would take it. He would take it all, if need be.

'You are human.' A second voice joined the first in its chant. He ignored them both. His eyes shut as tightly as he could, Jaskier imagined, flickering reality be damned. An incredible feeling rushed through him. Like flying. Suddenly, it was almost easy. He didn't imagine the pain away, that was far beyond his capabilities. But he could imagine it differently instead. He could imagine rightful anger, or heartfelt grief; and even a tiny sliver of hope.

'You are kind.' He could imagine laughter and tears, embraces and kisses and smiles. He could imagine songs and poems and jokes. Friendship and love and family. He could imagine dragons, knights and mages, queens, kings, and children of surprise. He could imagine bards and horses, elves, selkiemores, djinns.

'You are worthy of all good things in life and more.' He couldn't imagine the pain away. That was far beyond his capabilities. But he could imagine so much else that the pain became insignificant.

He didn't know when it stopped, or why. Jaskier opened his eyes and looked at his hands. He tilted his head to the side. Something had changed. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was different. He hadn’t even noticed how transparent he had been before. But he wasn’t anymore. He looked just as real as his surroundings.

Jaskier looked up to meet Geralt's eyes, glaring gold in the dark. "Thank you," he whispered.

He nodded shakily and rose up on his knees.

He blinked.

A voice behind them spoke up: "Again."

Jaskier stood on his trembling legs. "No," he commanded. "Enough."

The mage attempted to step forward. Jaskier glared at him and the man stopped, frozen with one foot in the air. "No," he repeated, "you have no power here. You are a memory, a dream, a fantasy. And I do not want to continue this dream!" With every word the air around them began vibrating, as the feeling filled him again. It felt like floating.

"Get lost!" he yelled. The door flung open, frozen air coasting in. "You are not welcome here."

He took a step forward and the mage stepped back, his form flickering. "You never were, and never will be. Get lost"

"Who do you think you are?" the mage scoffed. "With what magic do you think you can best me?"

Jaskier laughed hoarsely. "I am Geralt's friend," he declared. The ground shook with every step he took. "I am no mage, no witcher, no Child of Elder Blood. Just a bard with a lute. Just a man with an imagination.” The calm feeling within him dissipated, a storm brewing within his stomach. Not like liquid fire, but like frozen lightning. The air around him thrummed, wind swirling through the laboratory. “And I told you to get. LOST!"

"No," the mage wheezed, "you can't-" His body flickered again. And flickered. And blinked out of existence.

"How dare you?" the Count de Lettenhove boomed, looming up dangerously before him. "My own-"

"GET LOST!" Jaskier yelled. He vanished and his mother appeared in his stead. "Get lost, get lost, get lost, get lost, get lost!" With every word he said another ghost appeared in the chamber. Stregobor, Yennefer, Renfri, his brother, his sister, Queen Calanthe, Visenna. Faces he knew like the back of his hand and others he had never seen before blurred together before his eyes in a nauseating whirlwind of impressions.

He sobbed and thrashed and laughed as he banished each and every one of them to whatever circle of hell they had crawled forth from. Floating, flying, his mind clawing at the edges of the reality he rewrote. The castle around him trembled and shook like his knees, stones and memories collapsing, falling, vanishing before crushing them. He was at the eye of the storm, clouds of wind and darkness swirling around him, interspersed with lighting. It hurt, it burned, it stung, but he did not stop. Could not stop. Would not stop.

Until it was over.

Jaskier hadn’t even noticed it. He probably never would have noticed if not for the boy tugging at his hand. "It's pretty."

"What is?" Jaskier mumbled weakly. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. It took him a while to process the beautiful winter landscape that stretched out before him. It looked like it had been plucked straight from a storybook. It had everything it needed: a lake, covered with a thick layer of ice, an orchard adorned with icicles, a hill to go sledding. Picture-perfect.

Well. A storybook where the snow was green, the trees purple and the sky orange, eternally stuck in sunset with no sun to be seen.

Still. It looked beautiful. Serene, even. Even more magnificent than he had imagined. "Thank you," he answered, his voice much quieter than the enthusiastic child's on his other side. "I'm Jaskier," the boy said.

The boy on his right smiled widely and extended his hand: "Geralt."

"That's a nice name." Child-Jaskier shook it excitedly. "I can already tell that we're going to be the best of friends."

"That would be nice," Geralt answered.

"What do I do now?" Jaskier and Jaskier asked.

"Hmm." Geralt frowned, apparently thinking hard. "Do you know how to build a snowman?"

"I do," they replied.

"I never built a snowman."

"Come," child-Jaskier said and tugged on his hand. "I'll show you."

Jaskier watched the two boys slip down the hill on their butts. He watched them run to the lake, watched them build a green snowman. He was relieved, he realised. Relieved, to see them happy. Still, the question remained: 'What do I do now?'

"Man," a bored voice next to him made him whip around. The dandelion yawned. Made a yawning sound. Whatever. "I already told you what to do."

"You!" he raised an accusatory finger. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, man," it sighed heavily. "This is your dreamworld."

"Fuck," he muttered. "Can't you at least help me figure out the rest of the poem?"

"I already did. Just follow the instructions. Follow—"

“—your heartbeat to the horizon, then take the second turn right after the battle field, I know,” he grumbled. “Have I reached the horizon yet?”

“I don’t know,” it responded. “Have you?”

“Probably not,” he sighed. “Will you come with me while I continue?”

“Can you imagine that?”

He smiled and began walking again. “I guess I can.” They journeyed in silence for a while. But try as he might, the horizon didn’t seem to come any closer. Jaskier groaned loudly; he really should have guessed that there was another mystery to that. "Hey, you!" he shouted at the sky. "Coram Agh Tera, can you hear me? Wasn't I done with the nightmares?"

No response.

Well, almost none. "He really is an idiot," Valdo-larkspur mocked. "The sky talks as little as the trees."

Jaskier chuckled and raised his finger. "For the record, I knew you'd say that."

"Alright, braggart, don't flatter yourself," Jaskier-larkspur joined in.

"That, too," Jaskier said but the two of them didn't hear him, already too engrossed in a discussion about some trivial nonsense.

'Alright, focus, Jaskier,' he told himself again. He had been forcing the brain fog from his mind entirely too often in the near past; it was getting harder and harder every time. And the noise of two bickering idiots behind him didn't make it any easier. On the contrary, with all the distractions he could already feel the fidgety-ness approaching.

'Ughh.' He'd never figure it out at this rate.

What Jaskier didn't see, of course, was that he already had done so a rather long time ago. But like I said, mortals are, first and foremost, fundamentally blind. Their imagination reaches only as far as the horizon, even that of a poet as accomplished as Jaskier.

In hindsight, his blindness was truly a blessing. If he had discovered that there was absolutely no need for him to brave the latter stages of his nightmares, his rage might have been sufficient to shake him from his slumber. And then where would we have been?

So, he had no choice but to figure out the mystery that was no mystery at all all over again.

"Could you two shut up?" he snarled at the larkspurs. "If you're not going to help me, you can at least be quiet!"

"Well, someone got off on the wrong foot," Valdo-larkspur quipped.

"Yeah," Jaskier-larkspur agreed. "And for the record, we did help you. We gave you instructions. It's not our fault if you're too much of a fool to follow them."

Jaskier frowned. "Fool?" he breathed. 'And when they’re gone the fools remain,

A garden grows with no sustain.'

"Hey!" the buttercup complained. "You shouldn't be so mean to him. He's doing his best."

"Oh, yeah?" the larkspurs taunted. "His best isn't very good then, huh?"

"Man, just leave him alone," the dandelion joined in and before he knew it, the four of them were arguing viciously.

Jaskier paid them no mind. He glanced around warily, trying to parse out whatever 'no sustain' meant. It couldn't be anywhere around the lake, then, nor the lilac forest. The blue mountains were an option, but he didn't think it likely.

'Come descend into the sky.'

He tipped his head up to the sky above. 'It's empty,' he realised. No sun. No clouds. No nothing. But descend into the sky? He couldn't imagine that. Could he?

A faint smile spread on his face.

'How to find my mighty throne?

The answer’s plain: you don’t.'

"So, it was that simple, huh?" he said to no-one in particular as he stretched out a hand to touch the invisible barrier of the horizon, still impossibly far away. “The second turn to the right, is it?” he murmured and turned into the direction of the blue mountains, keeping one hand still on the skyline.

"Well, would you look at that," a gruff voice said as the lark landed on his shoulder, "the weirdo actually knows how to follow instructions."

"You again," he deadpanned. "How did you get here?"

"I flew. Obviously."

"Obviously," Jaskier echoed stupidly.

"So," the lark said and picked at the feathers under its wing, "have you figured it out yet?"

He huffed a quiet laugh and shook his head. "It's really quite easy, isn't it?"

"You tell me."

"Why," Jaskier said and closed his eyes, "you flip the world upside down. Obviously."

"Obviously," the lark replied stupidly.

Jaskier opened his eyes and as the sky stretched out beneath him. It was an easy thing for him to take a step. And another one. And then, let himself drift into that bright realm of uncertainty.

And so, he did.

He had already gotten quite far down into the sky when suddenly his descent was cut short. "The fuck?" he muttered. He took a few experimental steps to the left and right, eyeing the fog curling around his ankles warily. But try as he might, he couldn't descend any further. "Are we there yet?" he called up to the flowers that were still waiting on the surface.

"Almost," the lark replied, gliding down to him. "Just open the door."

"What door?" He could see nothing but orange sky. He turned into the direction he had come from and marched forward. He hit the door face-first. "Fuck!" he cursed, holding his nose that should be bleeding by all rights.

"You found it!" The flowers cheered from the ground. It was weird, seeing them hang from the ceiling like this. Or the ground. Whatever. This was already weird enough without wondering about semantics.

Besides, he had more important stuff to do. Like opening an invisible door.

"Shit," he cursed, blindly scrabbling at the solid surface that had materialised out of thin air. "Is there a handle or something? A knob? Or— ah, fuck!" He turned the knob and immediately stumbled through, falling a solid foot before landing in soft powder snow.

Jaskier groaned and turned onto his back, staring at the solid wooden door hovering in the air above a wintery garden. "Sure," he muttered and got to his feet with a resigned shrug. "Why not?" He started dusting off his clothes. "I'm already talking to birds and flowers, why not a door in a fucking—"

"Jaskier?"

#my writing #For You I'll Always Wait #FYIAW #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #the witcher secret santa #renfri #stregobor #vesemir

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argylemikewheeler · 4 years

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SO a lovely anon’s been asking for a screampost about season 2 byeler aaaaand guess who figured out what their screampost is gonna be about??? It’s ME, and it’s the freaking SHED SCENE. But I’m going to yell about it from the POV of an english major who’s writing an honors thesis and thinks they know shit about writing. OKAY LET’S GO:

SO. The main beef I have with the shed scene is: what the fuck was it for? Why was it so long and emotional and well done, if it was just to show the humanity of Will could be engaged/wants to get to showing he knows Morse code. Like, we see three stories told to him before we get him tapping out “HERE”. Why have those three? Why have everyone in the room? I understand the montage after with the music and the different stories is to keep the Mindflayer distracted and Will engaged. Makes sense!!! But that first part. That FIRST PART.

It’s extremely weird to think that it was just meant to be casual. Like. Of course I have time for character/dialogue analysis but first– as a writer (and this is just ME of course, I’m not an authority at ALL) I know that kind of scene. It’s where all the plot kind of lifts for a bit and you have this free spaces to create this MOMENT. It’s just for Will, it’s just shameless background– and it’s the most important moments of Will too.

It’s his Mom, his brother, and his best friend– who, no matter how you look at Mike, he’s been there the entire time. Mike’s plot started out being Minus One Eleven Plus One Broken Heart and became I’m Worried About Will and I’m Going To Make Sure I’m There For Him. I Said Crazy Together, Dammit. And that makes him logistically even with Will’s own mother and his brother speaking to him.

So the writers choose to have this moment for Will. It’s their chance to let these actors work their chops, get some background, let us feel SUPER invested in Will making it out Alive and Human, and also learn something about these relationships– before Will became Zombie Boy. Before the Upside Down. They know this is the moment to really just Go Off and Create. I mean, they have the open space! They can say whatever they want and make it canon! It’s a blank canvas of a scene that’s just WAITING to make us cry. And they tell three stories: Rainbow Ship with Joyce, Castle Byers with Jonathan, and Becoming Friend with Mike.

I’m looking at this like I was sitting in the writer’s room and I was thinking about what I would want to do and have each character say– and I acknowledge I do not write for a multi-million dollar netflix series and that shit is not easy. but WITH THAT SAID. I still, you guessed it, HAVE some THOUGHTS.

Jonathan’s story makes the most sense– very like Point-A to Point-B to me. It’s not a cheap shot or anything, but that story makes sense to tell. It’s something that 1. explains how Castle Byers came to be 2. gave us some timeline stuff 3. showed us how Jonathan dealt with the separation and 4. how close he and Will truly are, because most of the time Jonathan is just trying to save Will; they don’t really hang out, ya know? It’s a great story and writing wise it does a WHOLE BUNCH.

But it also does this really weird fifth thing of showing us that this is the first story that Jonathan thought to tell when faced with trying to reach Will. It’s the most emotionally rooted– I mean? That’s his brother! That was their father! And NOW, Will’s got a safe space! One that they made together. That’s so beautiful and human and definitely able to cut through The Mindflayer. Jonathan’s first story, and actually all of his stories, are rooted in things he did to get Will out of the abusive environment his father was creating. Jonathan’s first instinct and memory to bring Will back is: I know what you’ve been through and I know that you were scared, but you survived that. And you’re going to get back to us and survive this. Great writing, right? Good shit.

Then we get to Joyce and the Rainbow Ship! She tells this story of feeling SO proud of her son for creating something all his own. I’m not going to say anything about the, uh, rainbow thing, but we all know it’s there. They decided that not only was this ship just Different, it was Rainbow too. Crazy. But, the main point here is that the first story she chooses to tell Will to bring him back is probably one he doesn’t even think about often– which is a really great story for a Mom to have, when you think about it. What kid remembers what drawings they did– especially if they were embarrassed about it.

Well, Joyce comes through trying to pick at such a small and minute memory that only her Will would know. It’s the moment she, in a way, really started to see her son for what he is: creative and unrestrained by convention, bubbly and inventive, and just this happy joyous kid. This was probably one of those moments that she sat at the table alone, looking at the picture and hearing her son scribbling in the other room, and thinking oh i really have someone special here. oh i have to protect him.

For writing, Joyce’s moment was very detailed, completely new for the audience– but added a lot about Will’s childhood. The happy one that we know gets turned around down the line (before it goes Upside Down). Joyce misses her son and this story is a way for us to see that aching side of her and just CRY with her. It’s easy (not cheap though of course) tears and it’s incredible.

And then. And then the writers have Mike come into the mix. Like, we get the shot of Joyce and Jonathan together, wetly laughing at Will being “so bad at hammering” and the shot of Will’s hand trembling. And as a writer, I know, we’re there. We’re almost there. We set it up– Three’s a magic number. Send him over the edge let Will finally reach reality again AND–

It’s. It’s fucking Mike Wheeler. Bringing up the first day they met. Letting us in on the backstory we have NO primer to. Like, Byers Family Drama is semi-known; we know that there Is history there and it’s being given to us slowly. But how Mike and Will met? We have NO IDEA– we’ve just seen this boy calling when he’s out sick, being concerned when he’s quiet, assuring him he’ll keep him safe, “crazy together”, helping him explain his Bad Vibes with Dart without speaking over him, and just constantly thinking about Will’s well being while they’re fighting a literal monster.

So now, the writers have shown us this pure dedication and loyalty and go: they’ve known each other since they were FIVE. They make the decision in this moment that they want to tell us that Mike is literally Will’s longest and best friend. Nearly as long as this boy has been able to form memories he has known Michael Wheeler. That’s the move. That’s the info we get and that is chosen to be given. Mike’s friendship is turned into a center of Will’s formative years by simply implying that this story needs to be told to both Will and the audience. BUT THAT’S NOT ALL.

This story also, from a writing perspective, says a lot about Mike! They chose to have Mike remember the first day they met– not when the party all met or anything like that. No. Just the two of them. The writers don’t cop out on this moment at ALL. Like they take FULL advantage of this free moment and build such an intimate and short memory between characters you’re just supposed to Understand are friends. Like, the backstory isn’t always important sometimes– but right here, they tell us it is.

They tell us that Mike being alone and scared is something that stuck with him, it’s something he’s afraid of having happen again if he loses Will. They tell us that Will was a loner all the way back then too, but he doesn’t seem to mind being one (or being different). And then, mixed in with this backstory that shows both Mike and Will really haven’t changed they throw in that… uh….

Asking Will to be his friend is the best thing Mike has ever done. They wrote that sentence without any jokes, no laughs, no weak smile– Finn says that line and it’s dead. fucking. serious. The moment that speech was written into that scene, that entire relationship’s gravity changed.

And writers have to know that. They HAVE TO. Because of how close Will and Mike were the entire episode, there’s no way that this was a Red Herring– something just to throw us off the scent of… Will breaking through, I guess? Because he literally taps the chair in the next minute. It’s not a decoy scene or, as expected honestly, played for laughs. It’s a completely serious moment of an eighth grade boy, that has been emotional and angry and lashing out all season, stand in front of his friend and just CRY.

And what’s worse. Mike seems to only cry when El is involved (at the end of s1 and when Hopper tells him he was hiding her). And THAT’S a parallel, of course, but not only that, but the writers chose to show Mike having non-romantic emotional range. Which is GREAT, but dude this scene is SO… Tender??? Seeing a young boy cry at the feet of his best friend that he thinks he’s losing? And recounting the FIRST MOMENT THEY MET because that’s the BEST FIRST MEMORY? Like, literally just becoming Will’s friend is the best one because it allowed him to have every other memory? Dude that’s so profound. That’s so incredible to think of and to write.

And for no one in that room full of straight white dudes to say: Uh…. maybe that’ll seem gay in the 80s is CRAP. Sorry, not to be that piece of shit, but I know that they thought about it. So for them to still keep the speech in– even with their DUDE THAT’S GAY Monkey Brains going off– says something to me, as a writer. And not in a “they wanted to be progressive” kind of way.

They wrote a beautifully tender moment between Mike and Will, in a scene that could have been anything they wanted, with only Will’s family present. That scene was a creative writers dream! A free-for-all! A moment to just fucking make shit up and go crazy!!! and they decided to go with That…. BRO, ngl I’m kinda emo about it STILL….

Okay. I don’t know if this makes any sense, but as someone who’s writing a longer piece that has many character relationships to juggle and show the reader piece by piece, this moment of OH we can give Will some Memories and Audience Some Background is very clear to me– and I don’t mean that like, it’s cheaply done or it’s obvious in a bad way. I just know the vibe: when you get to sit and ask yourself WHAT do I want to say about my character here. It doesn’t have to be related to ANYTHING ELSE that’s happening. I get the reins back. What. Do. I. Want. To. Say.

And they chose. To Say THAT.

I’m not going to scream about season 3 because I think st3 needs st4 to make sense all the way. Like, I think it’s a set up for the Big Finale, so I won’t say they “didn’t follow through with ANY OF IT” because maybe they will. But let’s just say, if they do not. Please print this out and send it to the Duffer Brothers.

Alright. Word, thanks for reading this ridiculous rant

#s2 byeler #byeler #byler #kaz s2 rewatch #*#i reposted as a txt post bc the read more on mobile wasn't working and i didn't want anyone to have to scroll past that more than onec #xoxo

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fanfoolishness · 4 years

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Steven Universe: Future thoughts

Spoilers for the first four episodes below the jump! All sorts of rambling ahead! Please message me or reblog to share your thoughts, I wanna talk about it all!

I’ll try to organize things by episode. I won’t be able to rewatch them until they go up on Apple TV so this is all off the cuff. AHOY!

1x01 Little Homeschool

Steven has White, Blue and Yellow essences in his bathroom cupboard. Maybe keep a bottle of your own spit just to be safe? You never know?

Aww Cherry Quartz is cute. Did she actually get named? I assume that’s who that is.

I had thought that shot in the trailer was going to be Pink Smoky Quartz. I was wrong, but then we DO get Pink Smoky Quartz next episode ahhhh!

We all know Steven drew that picture of himself and the Diamonds on the brochure.

I like to think that Steven keeps up with his drawing during quiet times, and while he isn’t technically great, most 16-year-old artists aren’t great per se. What’s important is that he keeps doing it and he’ll keep getting better!

Little Homeschool looks awesome and I want to go make some morps with Vidalia. Wait, were Lapis and Peridot there? I don’t remember. They should be!

I’m so glad Jasper isn’t the big bad!!! And I love that she’s just antisocial but not actively harming anyone (beetles and grass aside).

Still no explanation for the blanket, I love it

STEVEN GO OFF, YOU TELL HER NOT TO HURT THAT BEETLE

Whoa Steven, that rage is juuuuust below the surface these days, isn’t it? I get being annoyed at Jasper and I’m sure this isn’t the first time they’ve had this discussion but he really does just go off on her pretty damn quickly, and several times.

I am concerned that he referenced her corrupting herself. I DON’T WANT CORRUPTED STEVEN Y’ALL, this better not be foreshadowing!!!!!

Honestly Jasper just needs to get into wrestling, I’m shocked Amethyst and Steven haven’t pointed this out to her

I’m dying at her attacking all the Earthlings in her little radius

Awww Steven, at first he’s really intrigued by Diamond Mode and wants to learn how to use it better. So optimistic!

Except you totally killed about 10 conifers and only healed one, so way to hurt the forest dude

Am I the only one wondering how conflicted Dr. Maheswaren must feel, knowing Steven can heal all this crazy shit and that a) she’s toiling at doing it the old-fashioned way, b) he could really help her patients, and c) he isn’t?

Looking forward to seeing Steven and Jasper talk again, but I really hope it’s not because Steven’s been corrupted and is trying to get over it. Urrrgh no ;_;

I do want to see if she has tips for how to control anger. Or how to use it and learn from it. But I’m not sure she knows either.

Steven is a shark. Because if he’s not swimming, he’s sinking. And swimming to him is helping people. If he can’t do that, if he can’t do what he’s supposed to do in his mind, what is he doing? He’s gonna sink this season and it’s gonna be FUCKING SPECTACULAR.

1x02 Guidance

Amethyst is so proud of herself! It’s awesome!

Steven is clearly a little uncomfortable that he didn’t come up with the idea, isn’t he? He also has a hard time figuring out that there are ways to use what you’re made for instead of having to run from it. Of course, that isn’t true for everyone. Little Larimar did love screams and children more than ice. The best lesson is that people are different, some are comfortable working in a certain zone whereas others need to struggle past it to feel complete.

Amethyst was sitting in front of the Teens of Rage video game. I FEEL THIS WILL BE SIGNIFICANT Y’ALL.

I’m just so glad Mr. Smiley finally isn’t understaffed. He could take a day off and go visit Mr. Frowny!

Uncle Andy is back! Yay! And he’s getting involved with Beach City in general, I’m really happy to see him putting down some roots.

Smoky Quartz is back!

PINK SMOKY HOLY SHIT LOOK AT THEM GO

Love love love the pink/purple asides for the Steven and Amethyst debate while being Smoky Quartz

TIME SLOWING/SUPER SPEED POWERS??? I WAS NOT PREPARED

The roller coaster exploded IN THE OCEAN I can’t EVEN

So far both Steven and Amethyst are intrigued and impressed by Diamond Mode, and sure, it seems harmless now...

Steven is worried he’s losing his touch helping people. That makes me worried that that’s part of a bigger feeling, not just this particular snafu.

Amethyst being so direct is often the one who gets closest to Steven talking about his feelings. He started to go there, but then Little Larimar showed up again with their terrifying talk about screams....

1x03 Rose Buds

I’m really glad Greg and the Gems aren’t giving Steven shit about not wanting Rose to be looming over him in portrait form. Now if y’all will also TALK to Steven about how he feels about it... but at least they’re okay with him removing the portrait.

HOOOOOOLY SHIT Y’ALL

I’m so happy J-10 and Y-6 are back!

OMFG they are NOT over Greg and it’s amazing

GAH-REG HOW COULD YOU

I’m glad the Zoomans are in control of their own destiny and able to go where they wish!

no no no no no no no no no no we all know what’s coming here

Coming face to face with Rose Quartzes = instant KO for one Steven Universe

I almost had a panic attack with him as the Roses clustered around him and the music got tenser and tenser and the camera zoomed in on his face and that was fucking INTENSE PEOPLE

Greg seeing the Roses and just noping the fuck outta there, amazing, everyone in this family is so repressed

Poor Garnet and Pearl hiding in the bathroom

“Yeah, it’s weird”

Poor Rose Quartz-who-most-looks-like-our-Rose-Quartz, it’s clear she is much more emotionally in tune than the other two (due to her belly gem placement?)

STEVEN GOT NEW PAJAMAS

but let him sleep shirtless you cowards!

Also he just looked... so GROWNUP in that scene by the warp pad? His proportions were just no longer little kidlike? And he is still cutely beefy but not really little-kid chubby anymore and teen me would have had it BAD for him at this point, I’m just sayin’

Steven is S O O O O S T R E S S E D R I G H T N O W

he’s eating his fucking blanket in an attempt to not talk about his problems I CAN’T

also HAVE WE NOTICED that Steven will eventually end up telling strangers at least some of what’s bothering him, but never the people who actually love and care about him

this episode was so damn tense it is masterful

I’m glad they managed to talk things out a little

but clearly Steven is still, as always, just scratching the surface, this poor kid just needs to GO OFF.

did he go pink in this one from stress for a second? Or was that the next one?

1x04 Volleyball

You cannot tell me that that white coat is not a hand-me-down from Dr. Maheswaren, it is CANON IN MY MIND

also damn how many Gems are cracking themselves right and left that this needs to happen regularly?

seriously though Steven, you might just want to get a spittoon and start sending one to every hospital ever, you would undo A LOT of human suffering....

Steven honey I’m so sorry your mom did you so wrong and I’m so sorry you’re so scared of everything to do with her and NONE OF IT IS YOUR FAULT OKAY

but maybe also you need to learn how to face some of this stuff so it doesn’t scare you so badly

Poor Pink Pearl!

Volleyball? Seriously Steven? so insensitive how do you know Pink didn’t throw a volleyball at her head

Poor Pearl and Volleyball feeling so jealous about each other

Volleyball is 8000 years old?? damn how old was Pink?

oooooooh the Reef! so cool and mysterious! Look at all those Pearl possibilities!

So Pink damaged her Pearl, and she sent her to the Reef for repair. They fixed her gem, but when she reformed, the trauma was still so severe that she reformed with the crack. Oh man :(

Now again I don’t want Corrupted Steven but you could probably wrangle that into support for the theory.

I prefer to think that Steven will do something different than straight-up Corruption to himself, but we could see something like the crack form instead of Corruption.

Willing himself into a monster form only works if he thinks of himself completely as a monster. Right now he thinks Pink is the monster, and he thinks, finally, that he isn’t Pink. So either he’d have to really hurt somebody and then view himself as a monster, or, my preference, he would develop something like a scar or pink eyes or stay pink all the time or something until he’s figured out his issues.

I JUST DON’T WANT HIM TO HAVE HORNS, YOU GUYS.

Pearl WAS protecting Volleyball from Steven oh NOOOOO

STEVEN SONIC SCREAM

So we’ve got Diamond Mode Strength, Super Speed, and Sonic Scream, man oh man oh man

this finally makes sense because all the other Diamonds have such well-developed offensive powers

Pink must have been like “no those are dangerous I don’t want them, what else can I do” and developed her healing powers secretly

I always wondered why the Diamonds never recognized Rose Quartz’s healing tears or shield as belonging to Pink

And it must be that she never showed it to them

They maybe only knew about her offensive powers

MEGA PEARL IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND WISE AND HER RIBBON DANCING IS SO MAGNIFICENT AND I LOVE THEM JUST TAKE CARE OF EACH OTHER YOU TWO

I can’t believe we got a new fusion so quickly!!!!

Fuck that bitch Shell amirite

look, someone help Steven.

Please help Steven.

HELP. STEVEN.

No new trailer for next week???? COWARDS

omg someone please please scream about all this with me

#steven universe spoilers #steven universe future #steven universe future spoilers #suf spoilers #suf #steven universe: future #steven universe: future spoilers #spoilers #steven universe #su:f spoilers #su:f #haha i have tagged this to high heaven #it's a long-ass post!#please feel free to message me or reblog to share your own thoughts!!!!#fanfoolishness su meta

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riverboundao3ff · 4 years

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Riverbound, Chapter 1

Your name is MSPA READER, and you are currently vibing outside of the known multiverse.

Well, you don’t really use that name anymore, on account of it not actually being a name. Names sound something like Emily, or Muhammad, or Patrick, or Shamita, or a million other put-together syllables and sounds.

Names are something personal. A title is anything but.

You do have a new title, though, one you like much better.

The Guardian.

Because that’s what you became when you yoinked the timeline away from the control of Ultimate Dirk and that Director lady, whoever she was. You looked Canon-With-A-Capital-C in its ugly face, spit on it, and then bent over to wipe your ass with the fabric of reality itself. Out of desperation, love, and most importantly sheer spite, you took it upon yourself to defy fate so that there is at least one timeline where everybody gets to live happy lives. This was victory at its finest. This is what it felt like to finally get everything you wanted. Your friends? Safe. Multiverse? Secure. Hotel? Trivago.

In the vast and rich history of pro-gamer moves, you believe you might have made the most powerful move of all.

After using the Green Sun- no, sorry, the Green Sun to make your own timeline, you did what any other person would do and took a big fuckin’ snooze, curling up around your universe like a mama cat protecting her kittens. You earned it.

And, if you were being completely honest with yourself, that’s how you would have spent the rest of time.

It’s not like you didn’t want to live. No, living was good. It’s just… you were so damn tired. You’re tired of always running from place to place, person to person, era to era. You’re tired of being injured, scared, and alone no matter how many friends you made. All the gods of the Furthest Rings know you’d gone through more in like a year than most people go through during their entire lives. Couldn’t a bitch just enjoy eternity in the void?

Apparently not.

The dreams began innocently enough. Playing video games with Dave, John, and Karkat. Exploring Jade’s island with Jake and Bec. Baking with Jane. Kanaya teaching you and Sollux how to sew. FLARP-ing with Vriska.

Laying side-by-side with Roxy as you two watched the sun rise. Role-playing with Nepeta. Movie night with Eridan. Getting high off your ass with Gamzee and scaring the shit out of some teal visiting their kismesis a few hives away. Discussing politics with Feferi.

Escaping that hellhouse the Soleil twins called their home. Watching those eerie lights in the corpsefield beside Fozzer. You and Remele beating a purpleblood to death.

You barely realize how nightmares had invaded your mind until you woke up with Karako’s yowls of terror in your ears. You didn’t have ears anymore, though, or a physical form, so it just sounded like your favorite clown son was screaming all around you in the abyss.

Okay. This was fine. This was fine, you kept telling yourself. After everything that’s happened to you, you were bound to develop PTSD at some point. That was completely natural.

Except this wasn’t just PTSD. This was something else entirely, because even when you were awake you saw the faces of your oldest friends burning in your mind’s eye. Something churned in your gut, ancient and primal. It was a feeling you knew well, and was usually accompanied by you launching yourself into whatever stupid shit you found next. The longer you tried to ignore it, the stronger it became, until you were permanently wrapped up around yourself like the most pathetic ball of Guardian that had to have ever existed.

You knew long before you actually put words to what was going on.

Of course. Of course it wasn’t over, because why would you ever get to have anything for yourself? Why would you ever get to just rest? For the first time in… who even knows how long, you sob hysterically into the sleeves of your hoodie.

A galaxy twinkles in the outer shell of your universe, lighting up the zig-zag sign on your chest. Mallek’s lazy smile fills your thoughts. If at all possible, everything hurts even more, until you can’t even cry to let out the pain.

Did he miss you? Did all of them miss you?

Oh, God, Daraya. You promised her you’d take her to Earth sometime, and then you just totally fucking vanished from the face of Alternia. What a fucking dick move. Granted, you hadn’t meant to do it, but still!

Your traitor-asshole brain reminds you of the fact that all of them are dead now. As in, Tyzias tried to lead a rebellion against the Alternian Empire, and then they all got killed. Your traitor-asshole brain also notes that it’s all your fault for encouraging those kinds of ideas.

Way to go, you absolute tool.

Except… they don’t have to be gone. You are the Guardian of your universe, and you make the rules. It feels so wrong to even think about it, but… yeah. You’re basically a god now. You can do what you want and nobody has the power to stop you.

Which brings about a whole new plethora of fuckery. If you were to go back, if you were to rewrite history… are you any better than Ultimate Dirk? Granted, you’d do it out of love, not because you’re a power-hungry bastard, but still. Shenanigans of this level are not to be taken lightly, even by sad Guardians with absolutely nothing better to do.

You sleep on it, which of course results in you waking up bawling like a baby as you remember the best roleplay sesh of your life, which was when Wanshi proudly gave your Soldier Purrbeasts OC her full name: Twinklemoon. You had a Soldier Purrbeasts OC named Twinklemoon. That’s why you were crying.

That’s it. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You need advice, and you know exactly where to get it.

You find her on the 8rigantine, furiously scribbling something down on a chart with a bunch of little figurines in the middle of it. You know better than to just haul your little friendslut ass up there while Vriska Serket is in the zone, so instead you knock on the hull and call up to her.

“Hello! Lady Spinneret, an old friend is in dire need of some advice!”

It takes about two seconds for a familiar spiky head to poke over the side of the deck. Vriska’s one dark eye lights up upon meeting your gaze, followed by a toothy grin that’s both menacing and completely genuine. She reaches back to grab something behind her. A rope ladder drops down and nearly nails you in the noggin, just like it did whenever you dropped by to FLARP with her.

“What the hell, bitch! I missed you!” she yells. Despite everything, you can’t help but smile. Vriska’s wild personality and no-bullshit attitude was just what you needed.

You’re very proud of yourself when you scale the ladder with ease and scramble up onto the deck without getting too much out of breath. With the amount of insane shit you’ve gotten yourself into during your travels, getting into shape came pretty easily. You’ve been told by several reliable sources that your legs are to die for.

“The 8-ball foretold your arrival. I brought snacks.” Vriska points to a bag next to her chart, not looking up from where she was drawing an impressively detailed kraken-looking thing. “Eat something before you start gabbing.”

That was sound logic, so you drag the back closer to you and start rooting around for something good. You find a bag of stinkroot chips, open that bad boy up, and start munching. Damn, did it feel good to eat something, and to also have a corporeal body to eat things with.

As you gather your thoughts, the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with the sensation of somebody’s eyes on you. You instantly look up to see Vriska staring at you. Her expression is blank, but her good eye held all the energy of a thunderstorm.

You swallow your chips. “What is it?”

“You look… different,” she says, setting down her pencil. “It’s like I can really see you now.”

“Huh?”

Vriska huffs, but she still doesn’t take her eye off you. “Before, you kinda looked like… I dunno, like somebody cut out a whole in reality and shoved the silhouette of a person inside? Like, I know what you looked like, but I couldn’t tell you the color of your hair, or what facial structure you have, or, like… dude, you have freckles.”

“I have freckles?” You reach up and touch your cheekbone, feeling the soft skin. Oh, hey, there’s some acne. Dammit. “Are they cute?”

“Sure? I think freckles are more of a human thing, so you’d have to ask John or Jade or whatever. Also you’re blonde, like Rose,” she tells you, thoughtfully scratching at her chin. “You’re still short as fuck, though. I could probably punt you off the poop deck.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Congrats on not looking like a hole in reality.”

You finish off your chips and flop back to stare at the night sky. With all the time you’ve spent on Alternia, you can now name a lot of the constellations. Right now, the Empress’s Trident poked up at a forty-five degree angle behind the pink moon. “I think I know how we can overthrow the Alternian Empire.”

Vriska’s pencil falls out of her hand.

You continue. “Have you read any records on a rebellion that occurred about… like, fifteen sweeps ago? I don’t know the exact date.”

Vriska’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and then she nods. “I sure fuckin’ did. Sollux did some of his mumbo-jumbo and got me some documents. He called it an early wriggling day present, but I know he wants to help my little… agenda. How do you even know…?”

“Because I helped encourage the right people to do it. I was there, Vriska. Those kids were my friends, and now they’re dead.”

She’s silent for a moment. “The leader was a teal named Tyzias.”

Your eyes are hot with tears. “I knew her. We met because she tripped on the sidewalk while carrying a shitload of her homework, and I helped her pick it all up when it went everywhere. She had a matesprit named-”

“Stelsa,” Vriska mutters. “Holy shit. She worked closely with some jades who lead their little army. They caused a hell of a lot of damage to the Empire before it all went down, I’ll give them that.”

Neither of you speak for a long moment, which you appreciate as you try and hold your messy self together. The longer you think about your old friends and all the good times you had with them, the more you’re certain about what you want to do.

They deserve to be here.

Your blood pressure spikes just thinking about it.

It’s Vriska who puts your thoughts into words. “You want to go back and help them win the rebellion.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s fucking crazy.”

“Yeah.”

She scooches over to you so she can stare down into your soul. “If we combine our resources and collaborate back and forth between the past and the future, we can make it so less people die. We could even take out that pathetic bitch of an Heiress they had back in the day. With your powers…”

“It’s possible I could compact time itself to create a world where we… where we can make things right. We could even help Feferi…”

You can’t bring yourself to say it in case you jinxed something, but by the look on Vriska’s face, she knows what you mean.

“It could work,” she breathes.

Slowly, you sit back up. Your heart was pounding so hard you felt it in your skull. “How do you think the others would feel about it?”

“Oh, they’d shit themselves,” Vriska snorts. “A full-scale rebellion across time and space?”

“True.”

“But it could work!” she repeats, staring into empty space.

“And they’d have a huge advantage they never had before. Me,” you say, talking to yourself more than to Vriska. You’d created this universe with your own power. It was time to protect it. “Vriska, I need to go before I chicken out. Tell the others what’s happening and that I’m sorry if this all goes to shit.”

“Wait!”

You look back at her as she grabs your arm, claws digging into the fabric of your hoodie. “I… you need supplies. No frickin’ way you’re going anywhere without at least a hydration flask.”

You know what she’s trying to say, and your chest fills up with all the warmth of a bonfire. God, you love this absolute bitch of a kid.

Vriska drags you to your feet, and then you’re both sprinting for her hive.

Amazingly, you don’t die trying to keep up with the cerulean as you charge up the stairs to her respiteblock together. You’re still out of breath by the time you reach the top, though, but Vriska’s already grabbing a backpack and tossing shit into it.

“Get me that jacket off the door,” she orders as she tosses in what looks like a small medical kit. You obey and throw her the jacket, the black leather one with the bright red hood.

She then waves you over, and you slip around her desk to see what’s up. In her hands is a black sheath, with a matching handle sticking out at the top.

Vriska pulls the sheath off to reveal the blade: a brilliant silver-blue metal that nearly glowed in the darkness. It’s incredibly beautiful and very scary to look at.

“I’ve had this thing forever, so I’m giving it to you, okay? Don’t fucking lose it. Press that little gray button at the top of the handle to heat up the blade. Good for starting fires and cauterizing wounds.” She shoves the jacket into the backpack and hands you the dagger.

“Vriska, I don’t know what to say,” you begin, but she smacks you.

“Shut up and strap it to your belt. You better come back soon. I want a detailed report on everything. Single-spaced,” she snaps.

You grin. “Yes, ma’am. I should be back, in like, ten nights. Maybe eleven.”

“Ten,” Vriska growls. “I’m coming for your ass otherwise.”

“Noted. Tell everybody I said hi.”

“Obviously.”

You reach into that little part of yourself, which in turn reaches back out into that chaotic river that is the flow of time. You throw the anchor down and wade upstream. It’s a little rougher than usual, but you won’t let that stop you. There was no turning back now.

Time travel is always like trying to hit a moving target, but you have great aim, and when you find what you’re looking for you feel your face split into another huge smile. There’s nothing different about this part of the river than any other, but you know. When it comes to the people you care about, you always know.

Everything feels more real to you than it has in years. Two moons shine even brighter in the sky, the chilly air stinging your face, and you’re no troll but it still feels like you’re going home.

You open your eyes.

“Ten nights,” you say to Vriska, and you let yourself fall through the current.