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#when the scales are an obvious sign that their powers come from a dragon instead of lolth
hiddenbeks · 8 months
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shes so *clenches fist* babygirl
#not enough khalessposting on my blog. needs rectifying immediately#el plays bg3#ch: khaless#anyway im feeling conflicted abt her backstory. i dont think it works with the mostly good aligned way ive been playing her#she Should be more unhinged and less willing to be good considering her upbringing. initially at least#even if you get away from menzoberranzan and lolth you dont just shake their influence on ur worldview in a few years. right#when you've survived 100+ years by deceiving and backstabbing and destroying anyone who gets in your way#and Then someone more powerful than u (a baenre!!!!) deceives You and destroys ur entire house and life and everything you've achieved#sure i could revamp her backstory n make her the child of like. happy eilistraeean surface drow#but why would i make a drow character and not give them the baggage from growing up in a fucked up lolthite society !#makes her journey towards finding friendship and love and healing and trust much more compelling!!#i just need to figure out Where she is in her redemption era or whatev#and what exactly compels her to be Kind when everything she had in menzoberranzan she got by being Not Kind.#sure she lost it all in the end but 'i should have been kinder' is not the lesson she learned from that#she only learned that her reckless ambition made her careless. learning kindness comes much later but... when and how and why...#anyway. can someone more versed in forgotten realms lore tell me how lolth-worshipping drow would even feel abt a draconic sorcerer.#when the scales are an obvious sign that their powers come from a dragon instead of lolth#and in khaless' case they come from a silver dragon... a disgusting lawful good metallic dragon... blasphemous
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baneschadenfreude · 3 years
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Well played Master Aaron, well played 🤦
On that note, this also gave me a little thought about our master wizards' staffs! This may already be obvious to many in the fandom but might as well dwell into it none the less.
This is about how the staffs aren't only are a great tool / extension for a wizard's magic but how it's appearances and capabilities also represent and reflect the wielder's creativity, personality and level of mastery of their Magic.
Let's being with Merlin Ambrosius:
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His staff if called the staff of Avalon. It's handle seems to share the same metal that made up most of Merlin's armor albeit in a darker shade and somewhat have matching intricate accents and pattern much like said armor along with it's respective handle and knuckle guard. On the very top, sits a fairly sized Emerald crystal which I think reflects his over-all image as a wizard. Emerald crystals represent intuition, great focus and enhanced foresight which we all know are one of Merlin's key traits. What makes Merlin's staff different from his pupils' is how he wields it. As a -for the lack of a better word- "by the book" kind of Wizard, Merlin cannot (perhaps to his preference) dematerialize his staff like Douxie's and cannot retract like Morgana's and is always seen carrying it physically resulting in minor hindrances similar to when he lost his staff to Gunmar in troll hunters and when he dropped it when the Arcane Order attacked Camelot and only got it back with the help of Arch. This shows that he does not have the capability to summon his staff at will. This implies it's either he designed his staff that way because he believes that he has no need of additional capabilities aside from it being a helpful tool in spell casting or that because of how he perceives magic and his life philosophy as a wizerd reflected how far he can "costumize" his staff. His staff also -in a way- reflects his methods of manifesting magic and that is from his key traits. Unlike emotion intuition, knowledge and keen foresight is a great substitute for magic. A wizard can also harvest power and energy from one's own intentions so long as they mean it and need it and this is perhaps where Merlin generated his magic from and I think we can agree that Merlin barely relied on emotions and instead direct his goal of using magic to his knowledge as a means to succeed in any given obstacle.
Next is Morgana le fay:
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Her staff is by far the easiest to decipher. Morgana's staff is called Skath Rhün. As you may have noticed, it's structure resembles that of dragon scales or a texture similar to one of stone. It has no crystal anywhere attached to it and is the only staff known to change its color depending on the wielder's emotions when using it as well as it's ability to conviniently retract at will . The reason to all these features is because of WHO Morgana is. Since Morgana was reintroduced to us in Wizards, we came to understand that Morgana cared for the troll kind and other magical creatures that Arthur had banished out of spite. She also had a natural talent for sorcery and spell casting along with the gift of shadowmancy which further solidifies her strong bond with magic. My personal take of why her staff does not bear a crystal is because of the kind of magic she gravitates to: shadowmancy. Crystals are supposed to represent a wizard's key values and traits in order to manifest magic. Morgana's key to manifesting magic, however is slightly different. Just like what Douxie had once said "magic IS emotion." This was brought up when he was teaching Clair how to use magic without the need of a staff and what magic was Douxie teaching Clair? shadowmancy. Meaning this kind of magic required much more than just ingredients and incantations. It requires emotions. Now how does this tie up to Morgan's lack of crystals on her staff? Because emotion is not a tangible trait. Unlike Merlin's key traits, emotions cannot be contained nor controlled. Only redirected; Emotions consume you, they pull the strings to which you cannot control. However, you can bend it to a direction where it benefits you (but not without cost). Intuition and the ability of foresight are traits that one developes overtime. Emotion is something that come with you the moment you are born which would corelate to why her staff changes color depending on the wielder's emotions. On another note, Morgana is not as different as Merlin in terms of carrying her staff. Unlike Merlin's her staff retracts at will and can be summoned with the encantation "azazazuth khenek thün" which proved to be convenient at times. But like Merlin's case it isn't as convinient given that not only did Morgana lose her staff at some point, Angor Rot and Clair did as well at times because it still retains a physical form.
And lastly Hisirdoux Casperan:
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Douxie's staff is THE most unique one I have came across so far from the show🖤 where do I begin!? Okay to start, Hisirdoux's staff is called Spellcaster guitar (appropriately so) and appears to be made of black Iron as a handle with it's respective handle and knuckle guard (foreshadowing Merlin's staff?) along with sky- blue accents and a gold-ish plate on the top that closely resembles his eyes. He can dematerialize and rematerialize it from his magic cuff at will as well as transmute it as a guitar (hence it's name?) and within the hoop of the staff sits his respective crystal. I honestly had a hard time figuring out which cristal it was but then decided on it being a sapphire (You'll know why). Another key feature to his staff is it's ability to stand or levitate in of itself as well as it's ability to return to it's owner without the need of any sort of encantation. Douxie's staffmanship is indeed a very unique one at that and it rightfully reflects him as a whole character. Starting with the reason why I settled for sapphire as Douxie's respective crystal. It's because one: it looks close to what a Sapphire would look like and two: because it's meaning closely resembles himself and his key traits to generate his magic. The Sapphire symbolizes Psychic awareness, Insight, wisdom, Self-discipline and focus which perfectly portrayed Douxie's development for the past 900 years and in addition with the time jump incident. (the scene where Merlin instructed him to feel the stone that called for him was a momentous event for me since it works the same with ACTUAL Witchcraft. When we chose an item to represent our whole being to stand as our extensions for certain spells, we don't just pick in random, we feel which items felt the most compelling, and it goes the same to which crystals/gem stones we use in a craft. Here, Douxie did the same and might be as well for both Merlin and Morgana.) These key traits are what drives Douxie to manifest his magic; It's the core anchor to where he harvests his magic. The next is when his staff's transmutation as a guitar. This one is where I was very proud of him for. His master told him to channel himself to his staff and make it an extension of his own and transmuting it into a guitar was just beautiful! For me, the reason why he chose to turn his staff into a guitar of all things instead of it being an ACTUAL weapon is because he knows he doesn't have to follow the rules to win. He formed his own rules to benefit him in a particular situation with comfort and to give himself somewhat a form of incentive to maximize the efficiency of his performance. It's similar to how even if your sneakers are very worn out, they still provide you comfort and that's enough, compared to a new pair of shoes where you'd be a victim of blisters 😱. This alone proved that Douxie put Merlin's lessons to heart but at the same time utilizes his own creativity with it in order to make "unexpected possiblities". Sounds a lot like what Douxie would do no? Lastly, the feature where his staff materializes at will simply shows how advanced and we'll explored Douxie is with his magic, showing that Duxie's staff- stowing is far better and convinient compared to Merlin and Morgana's staff portability. In addition, it's unlikely that he'd lose his staff in a battle because it comes back to him like a boomerang. And all the better, it's feature to levitate whilst Douxie performs a spell adds to its convenience given that he performs spells mostly with the use of mudras and hand gestures. Over all, I love how his staff adapts to suit its owner's needs and it just makes Douxie and his staffmanship very fun to analyze!
And with this comes a conclusion: with how each wizard wield their staffs, it shows how
(Merlin): when one keeps themselves stagnant to a belief or practice and doesn't acknowledge it's evolution, they will surely remain in the dark, no matter how enlightened they may be.
(Morgana): it is not wrong to let emotions seep out. However, it is a sign of weakness when one allows it to manipulate them.
(Douxie): balance is key to succeed. Use the bones of ancient knowledge to build one's structure of growth whilst embracing the newness of innovation and evolution to the path to maturity!
And that's about it.... I hope I got my point through BUT! keep in mind that these are just the thoughts of what I personally think of them and their relation to each of their respective staffs but I hope you enjoy it.🖤
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Dragon Three
F/M Pairing: Y/N x Felix (SKZ)
Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of blood and gore, lots of sexy times with Felix, explicit smut, language, and alcohol use
Word Count: 7.8K
Genre: Game of Thrones AU; Fantasy AU
Summary: In order to stake her claim to the throne, Y/N must cross the narrow sea and destroy an enemy who has an endless barrage of assassins tracking her every movement. But at least she has her faithful advisor, Felix, by her side, and an intimidating army of Dragons who only serve their queen.
A/N: The title comes from a 3racha song which is totally cool and you should listen to it while reading this! 
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Spring was a time of rebirth and renewal - an opportunity for second chances and new discoveries. But for me it was different. Because I was destined for something greater, and it was nothing short of intoxicating.
You see, I sought redemption - and there was only one thing left standing in my path.
My remaining obstacle was a wealthy land across the narrow sea - and the final battle meant that I would need to conquer a distant kingdom with an army of skilled warriors by my side. It also meant finding the very best people to serve me, and there weren’t many who planned to turn against a woman with three powerful and very loyal dragons who served at her behest.
But there was still time for distractions - consider it a stress reliever - and I sighed in pleasure, eyelids fluttering when I looked at the flash of silver between my legs - a pair of blue eyes pronounced with desire. “Felix,” I whispered, tracing my fingers across the swollen lines of his lips.
“My queen,” Felix murmured softly in return, looking up at me from his place between my thighs, mouth glistening with the smeared mess of my wet arousal.
“Aren’t you going to finish what you started?” I asked him, hardening my gaze because it was delightful to see the way he submitted to me.
“I’ll do anything you want,” Felix promised, and I could feel his tongue lapping at my wet folds, sinking into my tight cunt with practiced skill.
I hummed in agreement, relaxing my head back against my pillows. When I met Felix for the first time, back when I wasn’t nearly as influential, he was nothing but a little boy who lusted after something that he could never have. But he still agreed to serve me, and his loyalty was nothing short of profound. Perhaps that’s why I eventually succumbed to his advances - agreeing to share my bed with him.
“Can I fuck you?” Felix asked, pulling me out of my thoughts with a guttural groan.
I smirked at him, pretending to think about his request while I made of show of lowering my gaze to the obvious bulge of his erection. “Are those new pants?”
Felix was taken aback by my random comment, but he swallowed hard before responding: “Yeah.”
“They certainly make your cock look bigger,” I said, reaching down to trace the outline. “But you and I both know that your little cock isn’t good enough, so I’m hesitating because I don’t know if it can satisfy me.”
The degradation brought tears to Felix’s eyes, but I knew they weren’t out of grief but rather pleasure. “Please, Y/N,” he cried. “I can make you feel good.”
“You’re just desperate to fuck your cock into anything, aren’t you?” I asked with a snarl.
Felix nodded his head, holding onto my thighs with clenched fingers. Truthfully, Felix’s cock was actually rather good - it wasn’t very girthy, but it was long and always managed to rub against my g-spot perfectly. But he didn’t need to know that - especially when he loved to hear me talk down to him, and his eyes were beautiful and bright with tears filling the corners. “I want to be good for you.”
“You always try for me, Felix,” I placated him, holding up my hand to wipe away some of his tears. “I’m a fair ruler, aren’t I?”
Felix nodded again. “The Seven Kingdoms will be pleased to have you as their queen.”
I smiled at his words. “Well, I want you to show me your best effort, Felix. Can you do that for me? Take out your little cock and please me like you promised.”
“Thank you, Y/N,” Felix panted, and his fingers shook when he removed his belt, shoving down his pants and boxers before tossing them aside. 
I eyed his cock with interest, licking my lips while he wrapped a loose fist around the base, moving his hand up and down while choking around a moan. Meanwhile, I spread my legs wider for him, watching the way his eyes glued themselves to my empty cunt. “Go ahead, Felix,” I said. “Show me what your cock can do.”
“I will,” he promised, looking at me with so much affection that it was almost suffocating. But in the next moment, he was moving himself closer, inserting just the tip as he fought to contain his emotions.
“Why are you holding yourself back?” I asked him with a frown. “Show me how these hips move,” I added while squeezing at his thin waist.
Felix nodded with a quiet groan, throwing back his head to reveal an expanse of beautiful, tanned skin. It was an ethereal appearance, and I could spend the rest of my days studying the shape of him. He was an elegant man with delicate features and a lithe figure that betrayed the impressive strength and resolve of his character - his desire to please the ones he respected the most. 
“Y/N,” Felix said, brushing our lips together in a light kiss. His arms were shaking with the effort of holding himself up over me, releasing low grunts whenever he pressed himself inside. I melted at his ministrations - watching the sweat as it trickled down the sides of his temples, shimmering in contrast to his skin. Because this close, I could see every pore and defining feature - fighting to keep my eyes open to enjoy the delightful vision of his focused expression while his hips rolled in long, sensual patterns. Brushing my clit and filling my tight walls with his thick erection. Pulsating to the beat of his movements, and grazing my g-spot when he angled himself just right - using my thighs as leverage to keep us both as close as possible.
I hummed in delight when one of his hands came up to caress the side of my face - a light touch that contrasted to the quick motions of his deep thrusts. Penetrating my cunt with the same kind of desperation that Felix always seemed to reserve for these intimate moments together - like he wanted to prove a point to me. It wasn’t obvious, whatever it was, but the mystery of Felix was part of the reason why he appealed so much to me. 
“I’m close,” I warned him because I could tell that he was straining to hold back his own orgasm. He was a selfless lover, always ensuring that my pleasure was obtained before he could even consider the possibility of his own release.
In return, his fingers teased my clitoris, and there was a proud smirk on his face as if he was enjoying the quick manner in which he had broken me down. “Come for me,” he said, but it was less of a command and more of a courteous request, and I finally let go of all my accumulating stresses, arching my back against the sudden pressure in my lower back - a tight knot that was slowly becoming undone around me.
And in the afterglow of my orgasm, I listened to Felix’s pretty sounds until something warm started to leak out of the place where he pulled out - leaving behind a mess that we would both ignore. Instead, he collapsed next to me on his back, breathing heavy while he turned around to face me. “Was that good for you?”
I grinned at his neediness, but I nodded my head because I knew that he considered his performances inside the bedroom just as important as the advice he gave outside of our personal affairs. “Of course it was,” I said, pecking his lips. “You’re always so perfect for me, Felix.”
His accompanying smile was brighter than sunshine, and I closed my eyes to the sound of a distant roar outside of our fortress.
It was a triumphant sound because it meant that my dragons had returned.
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The stars were beginning to fade at the steady emergence of the sun, and I was walking across the bridge outside of the fortress to approach the sleeping forms of my dragons. They had arrived sometime the previous evening - making their anticipated return after journeying far away at my direction. I always worried about them when they were gone, but they had an uncanny ability to return to me even after weeks passed with no sign of their massive bodies creating brilliant shadows among the blue of the sky.
“There you are,” I remarked, smiling when Chan - my oldest and largest dragon - perked up at the sound of my voice. His scales bristled around a heavy yawn, reflecting a liquid black under the sunlight. “Chan,” I said, watching as he turned his giant head in my direction. “I missed you.” He grunted in return, attracting the attention of Changbin and Jisung who both startled awake at the sound of their older brother’s interruption. 
In comparison to Chan, Changbin was the second oldest, and his blue coloring reminded me of the ocean. Then, there was Jisung who might be the smallest of his brothers, but his scales reflected a sharp silver color that made him appear constantly alert. Still, I laughed at their expressions, wondering how anyone could ever be cruel to these magnificent animals when they expressed themselves so completely with a subtle blinking of their eyes or a single noise to demonstrate their opinion. 
But I carefully navigated around their powerful forms, pausing when I noticed the evidence of their last mission. “I’m very proud of you,” I said, running a hand along Chan’s spine as the eldest dragon purred at my praise. “Let’s have a proper reunion,” I suggested, taking several steps back so that they could dismiss the remnants of their slumber.
Meanwhile, I noticed the approach of Felix from my peripheral, and he looked unbelievably beautiful under the lingering effects of the dawning morning. “My queen,” he greeted me, pausing as he studied the three Dragons stretching their wings. “They’ve returned.”
“Yes,” I agreed, holding out one hand to gently caress the side of Chan’s muzzle. He gurgled in response before affectionately returning my gesture. “I think they made their point.”
I pointed to the side where the skeletal remains of the assassin waited on the cold, unforgiving ground. It was the third one this month, and I had grown tired of living in fear of them. But I also understood that it was a good thing - it meant that the Queen across the sea was afraid of me.
“I’m surprised they brought back anything,” Felix remarked, and he was suddenly next to my side.
“Well, I’m sure they wanted to show me that they did a good job,” I said, grinning when Changbin started nipping at Jisung’s wings. “Play nice, boys.”
Changbin turned to me in an instant, releasing a whining sound as if to show me his displeasure. “They obey you remarkably well,” Felix said. “After all, at their core, we’re talking about wild animals.”
“Oh, but they have good hearts,” I said, smiling when Jisung sniffled at my outstretched hand and I allowed myself to give him several pats on the neck. “Did you have something to tell me?”
Felix sighed as if he was burdened by the information he wished to share with me. “Y/N, we don’t have enough ships to cross the narrow sea, and our armies are growing bored with waiting around the city.”
“Hmmm,” I acknowledged him. “What do you suggest?”
“We could attempt to approach the iron bank,” Felix said. “They could give us the gold to build our own ships.”
“I suppose,” I agreed. “That might take more time than I’m willing to give” 
“Well, we can always negotiate with the lords in the next city,” Felix suggested. “Perhaps we can offer them some of our overstocked resources. And I’m sure they’ll never say no to someone who rides on the backs of Dragons.”
“If that’s what you think will work,” I said, turning to look at him before placing a delicate kiss on his lips. “I trust your logic.”
Felix smiled, clearly pleased by my show of adoration. “Shall I find someone with a disposable navy?”
“Thank you, Felix,” I said, reaching into my pocket for a small treat, holding it out for Jisung who happily lapped it up with clear delight. “I think I’ll pay a visit to the iron bank tomorrow. We can try to convince them that investing their resources into our army will be of the utmost importance.”
“I’ll make the arrangements myself,” Felix said before offering me a polite nod of his head. “Will you spend more time with them?”
I grinned. “I have another mission for my Dragons, but I’ll join you inside before noon.”
Felix gave a noise of acknowledgment before I watched him disappear into our carefully guarded fortress.
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Braavos was an intimidating city, and there were richly-clad men and women walking along the main roads touting their impressive assets and keeping themselves surrounded by the best that money could afford. I sneered at their ostentatious displays, choosing to travel with a few willing soldiers and Felix without all the ornament. The entire city was a complicated maze but the Iron Bank was, perhaps, the most impressive institution, and I studied the outline of the cathedral as it towered over our surroundings.
Felix managed to arrange a meeting with the most influential bankers, and I was rehearsing what I planned to say to those men in order to convince them that it was in their best interests to support my cause. The Iron Bank was notorious in its reputation, and the men who financed the institution didn’t just hand out loans to anyone unless it was certain they could be repayed. The expectation was pressuring, but perhaps this would be an objective opportunity for me to truly discern what everyone else thought about my cause and whether or not they believed in my success.
Yet, I was still unprepared for the apparent signs of hostility: “What is your business here?” 
I blinked once at the aggressive question, tilting my head at the sole guardian who stood at the doors to the Iron Bank. “My name is Y/N,” I said. “Perhaps this can answer your inquiry.”
The guardian waited for another moment before bowing low at the waist. “Wait here,” he instructed me before disappearing inside the building.
I scoffed and turned to the side to glance at Felix. “Are they always this hostile?”
“They’re unkind to outsiders,” Felix answered, and I pondered over his words even after the guardian returned to lead us into a massive room where three men sat before us on golden thrones.
My first impression was rather hackneyed because the men were all older, clearly aged and experienced, and they wore matching haughty expressions of contempt. In the past, I might’ve felt intimidated by such a reception, but I wasn’t a scared little girl anymore. “Y/N,” one of the men spoke up over the others. “Welcome to the Iron Bank.”
“It’s just as impressive as I’ve heard through rumors,” I remarked, allowing my eyes to peruse the surrounding decor - noting the domed ceiling and pristine floors. “I can feel its history.”
“Is that so?” he asked. “Well, we’re honored to meet with someone who has caused quite a stir in our free city.”
“My reputations precedes me,” I said. “I’m very grateful.”
“We’re also quite curious,” a second man said. “What can we do for you?”
“Of course,” I acknowledged. “As my advisor has likely revealed to you, I’m in need of funding for a fleet of ships to carry myself and my army across the narrow sea.”
“How unexpected,” the second man remarked. “The last time somebody challenged for the throne, they couldn’t even make it to the walls of King’s Landing before they were obliterated.”
I shivered at his casual tone. “I have something different.”
“Yes,” the second man agreed. “But differences aren’t necessarily equal to guaranteed success.”
“Regardless,” I countered, “I see this is as a mutual opportunity. When I conquer Westeros, I will repay my debt and more.”
“Such grand promises,” the second man said. “But why should we believe you?”
“I’ve already conquered most of Essos,” I said. “Men have cowered in my presence, and the ones who tried to cross me have paid the ultimate price.” I grinned while chancing another step closer to the bankers. “This is an advantage for the Iron Bank. You’ll already have access to the next ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”
“Yes, but we still don’t see it as an investment that will benefit the bank,” the first man said. “I’d consider your proposal a dangerous liability.”
“Because you don’t believe in my cause,” I said. “How foolish.”
“The current regime has reigned for decades,” the man said. “There’s a reason for its continued success, and that perseverance overshadows a grassroots rebellion.”
I huffed at his assessment. “What fails to convince you? The army serving me with a thousand men? My reputation across Essos? The three Dragons who fight at my side?”
“Even if you are successful,” the first man interrupted. “There’s no guarantee that you’d pay back the debt you will accrue.”  
“My word is not enough?”
“Words can be deceiving,” he replied. “Actions are objective. They speak much louder.”
“Very well,” I said, resigning myself to failure. “But I will always remember your faithlessness.”
“Threats don’t intimidate us, Y/N,” the first man cautioned. “You’d be wise to remember this because you may need us again in the future.”
“We’ll see about that,” I said, and I turned my back on the Iron Bank because I would need to search for alternative means if I wanted to cross the narrow sea.
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It was late when I finished my meetings with the people of Braavos, listening to their concerns and addressing grievances. It was tiring work, especially when I encountered situations where there wasn’t such a thing as an easy solution. I was exhausted, but there was nothing better to resolve my overflowing tension than arriving back in my room to find a naked Felix arranging a bath.
“Were you waiting for me?” I asked him, allowing my hand to skim across the skin stretching around his jutting hip bone before walking out onto the balcony outside.
It was bitterly cold, and I supported my chin against my upturned palm as my arm rested against the balcony - quietly observing my Dragons sleeping around the shelter of the forest. “You’re thinking hard,” Felix said, shameless as he walked out to stand next to me. 
“I knew there were other options,” I said. “But today was the first time someone has dared to reject me.”
“I see.” Felix nodded, allowing strands of his silver hair to ruffle in the breeze. “I wouldn’t take offense to a bunch of old assholes who have nothing better to do with their lives than play with people like we’re puppets.”
“But isn’t the point of becoming queen to control those strings?” I asked him. “Otherwise, how will I lead the Kingdoms?”
“By being yourself,” Felix said, drawing my attention by using a finger underneath my chin to direct my head. “I believe in you, Y/N. You’ll do great things for the Kingdoms. Nobody will ever doubt you again.”
“But it still stings,” I said, lowering my gaze to his flaccid cock. “I suppose you had other plans for tonight besides consoling your queen.”
“I wanted to please you,” Felix said. “As always.”
“Well,” I said, trailing my fingers sensually down the bare skin of his chest. “Show me what you had planned.”
“It’s nothing extravagant,” Felix said, taking my hand before leading me back inside. “Take off your clothes.”
“Are you giving out the orders tonight?” I asked, although I was already undoing the intricate lacing holding my gown together.
“If you’ll allow me,” Felix said, and I watched him lower his body into the steaming bath water, groaning in delight at the sensation.
 “I’m always grateful,” I told him, removing my gown while pretending like I wasn’t glad to feel his eyes on me the entire time. I joined him with a sigh of content, falling back into his embrace as we both silently enjoyed the water and one another’s company. 
“Can I wash you?” Felix asked, and I nodded before laving a kiss across his jutting collarbone.
In the meantime, Felix reached for the soap and started to slide the bar across my skin, rubbing it between his hands to create extra suds. “What shall we do about the ships?” I asked around a moan, feeling him squeeze my breasts. 
“Leave that to me,” Felix replied, rubbing his thumbs in sensual circles around my nipples. 
“You know that I trust you with my life,” I said, and I could feel his cock growing erect against my lower back. “Who can we approach?”
“I have someone in mind,” Felix murmured softly, and he was unceasing in the gentle kisses that he was leaving across my shoulders.
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His name was Lord Park, and there were rumors that his wealth surpassed even that of the Iron Bank. 
“He’s our man,” Felix assured me as we stood outside of his lavish estate - waiting for someone to greet us at the front door.
“It seems like this gentleman has more money than he knows what to do with,” I remarked.
“He also has ships,” Felix said, trailing his fingers across the back of my hand. “If he agrees to help us, then we’ll be ready to sail before our deadline.”
“Good,” I said, smiling when I sought Felix from my peripheral vision. “You’ve done well.” 
Felix beamed at the compliment while the gates of the estate abruptly opened, and an older man with graying hair and a thick beard stepped out to greet us. “My distinguished guests,” he said. “Lord Park is expecting you in the great room.”
“The honor is ours,” I replied with a bow - nodding at the soldiers I had brought with me as we stepped onto the impressive grounds.
My first impression was quite unforgettable - admiring the enormous columns and the elegant statues lining the path leading to the main entrance of a notable mansion. The doors of which were wide open, revealing a foyer with broad walls and an overarching ceiling that stretched to the heavens above. ”The mansion was constructed in the early ages,” our guide explained. “My esteemed patron had the chandelier installed himself.”
“How interesting,” I remarked, exchanging a quick glance with Felix.
“You may enter at your own convenience,” the guide said, pausing outside of a set of double doors. “Lord Park only asks that you leave your men here with me.”
I hesitated at the request, but Felix squeezed my hand in reassurance, and I took a deep breath before reaching out for the door handle. The room that I had entered reminded me of an office: bookshelves lining the walls with ancient texts, and an enormous table occupying the center of the room. “Close the door behind you,” an unfamiliar man said, and he stood next to the large window overlooking the grounds.
“Of course,” I agreed, and I followed his orders before walking in the direction of the table. “The pleasure is mine, Lord Park.”
The older man chuckled, and he turned around to reveal himself to me - fairly young, but with signs of his aging in the light peppering of gray in his dark brown hair. His grayish-colored eyes were narrowed, and he looked me over like I was a piece of meant on display for him. “I’ve heard many things about you,” Lord Park said. “Have a seat.”
I nodded my head to show my thanks before pulling out one of the chairs - watching Lord Park choose a spot across from me. “Your estate is beautiful,” I told him, and he smiled as he reached for two glasses and a pitcher.
“This wine,” he said while pouring me a generous amount. “It was made from the freshest produce in my vineyards.”
I accepted the glass from him with a careful hand - bringing it to my lips to drink a tentative sip. “It’s very sweet,” I said.
“It reminds me of you,” Lord Park remarked as he drank from his own glass. “You see, the wine is deceiving. It’s taste is quite sweet, but it’s made from a very rare ingredient known for its hard interior.” He paused for a moment, meeting my gaze from across the table. “You appear that way to me as well, Y/N. Your overall impression is sweet and innocent - you must know this because you have such a delicate body. Yet, underneath that facade is someone who is capable of destroying her worst enemies.”
“Hmmm...” I trailed off with a sigh was I traced the top of my glass with one finger. “I quite like the sound of that, Lord Park.”
“You’re a very beautiful woman,” he continued, raising his glass to me before finishing the remainder of its contents. “I’ve been told that you have a pressing need for my resources.”
“Your ships in particular,” I agreed. “I’m willing to repay you, of course. If you agree to let me use those ships, then I’ll try to accommodate whatever you might need.”
“There’s not really much that I do need,” Lord Park said, and he waved his hand around as if indicating the general grandeur of his property.
“You could consider this as a potential partnership,” I said. “I have an army, and you have ships without crews.”
“Yes, but I expect something in return,” Lord Park said, and he was wearing a lascivious smile. “What do you think a single man like myself could need?”
I chose to ignore his implications. “I have Dragons, sir. That usually convinces most men.”
“Dragons that serve you,” Lord Park remarked. “What good will that do for me?”
“They follow my direction,” I agreed. “But I could command them to assist you in other ways. Perhaps if there’s someone you would wish to see...vanish?”
Lord Park chuckled. “I have no such enemies, Y/N. However, I do have a rather notable lack of a suitable heir. Perhaps you could help me with that.”
“I see,” I said, nodding my head while tasting the wine once again - faintly recognizing the bitter taste under all of the embellishment.
“Of course, marriage is my price for complete access to my ships,” Lord Park said. “I hope that is no problem for you.”
“No problem at all,” I said, even though my stomach churned uncomfortably at the mere idea.
“Then it’s settled,” Lord Park said. “I’ll have your hand, and you can use my ships for your command.”
I forced myself to smile, even though I couldn’t help but feel trapped by the prospect. Still, I had to admit that it made sense considering his circumstances, and I desperately needed his ships. It was a fair trade on the surface, but deep down inside, I couldn’t help but feel cheated.
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Despite the fact that I had tried to withhold my bargain from Felix, I knew that he would eventually corner me and demand the results. Thus, it wasn’t very surprising to see him storm into my bedroom that evening - eyes reminding me of a dangerous storm over the ocean. I trembled from where I sat in front of my mirror, gliding a comb through my hair as I greeted him with brusque tone. 
“My queen,” Felix said, but the sentiment lacked his usual affection. “Don’t you think it’s unfair to keep me in the dark?”
“What are you referring to, Felix?” 
He scoffed at my obvious evasion. “Lord Park ordered his hand to make arrangements with me for his ships, but I’m no fool, Y/N. What did he ask for in return?”
I carefully lowered my comb, looking down at my hands folded in my lap as I mustered enough confidence to reveal the truth. “I may have to marry myself to that Lord,” I said, and I glanced up in time to notice the hurt flash across his expression. “Oh, Felix, don’t be like that. You probably knew this from the very start. It was your idea. You told me that we needed to negotiate for new ships.”
“My idea?” Felix repeated. “Y/N, at such a high price, I would’ve sought alternative sources.”
“But I can’t take that risk,” I said. “Someone else might want something even more onerous, and this is a worthy sacrifice for our cause.”
“But I hate it,” Felix said, and there was a raw emotion that exposed his very soul. 
“That’s a very dangerous thing for you to say,” I told him. “We both knew that those ships would cost us more than we might be willing to give.”
“Yes, but to bind yourself to him forever!” Felix decried, and I was so very upset to see his eyes gloss over. “Y/N, I’ve given you advice,” Felix whispered. “I helped negotiate for your armies! We raised your Dragons together!”
“Oh, Felix.” I sighed. “It disappoints me to hear you speak this way. I warned you at the very start of our affair that you should keep your feelings guarded.”
“Well, I couldn’t help it,” Felix snapped. “I love you, Y/N, and I won’t see you marry another man.”
“Then you won’t see me at all,” I rebuffed, steeling my gaze. 
I knew that the threat was harsh, and Felix was obviously taken aback. “You don’t mean that,” he said, but I also detected a slight hint of uncertainty.
“Perhaps you underestimate my resolve,” I said. “Those ships mean everything to me, and they’re certainly worth more than your cock.”
My heart twisted painfully at the lie, but I was convinced that marrying Lord Park was the only way to earn my crown. And I couldn’t have Felix standing in the way because of his affections for me - no matter how I might feel about him in return. This was the cold reality of a true ruler, and I would have to get used to making these sacrifices for the betterment of my people. 
“Do you really think of our arrangement as nothing more than a means to satisfy your own urges?” Felix questioned. “How can I believe that, after all this time, you only used me because I was able to fill your greedy little cunt?”
“I thought it was mutual,” I said. “Feelings are too complicated, Felix. Can’t you see how they’re breaking us down?”
“Because you’re allowing our relationship to amount to nothing more than fucking,” Felix countered. “I know that you don’t mean these things, Y/N. But I’m furious that you would lie to me for the sake of a potential marriage to Lord Park of all men. I’ll always stand by your side, even after everything you’ve said tonight, but you should be careful who you allow in such close intimacy.”
“I’ll consider your advice as always,” I said, and I returned my gaze back to the mirror just in time to see the reflection of Felix’s retreating figure.
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The next evening, I wasn’t surprised to receive an invitation to dine with Lord Park at his estate. Apparently, he desired to understand his future wife and her aspirations, which brought me to my present situation: walking next to a stoically unmoved Felix as we greeted two servants at the entrance to the dining room. The man in question was already inside, and he walked around the table to greet me with a formal kiss to the top of my hand. “Our future queen,” he said with a sultry tone. “You look ravishing.”
“Thank you, kind sir,” I said, ignoring the way Felix glared at our touching hands.
“Please have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the place right next to the head of the table. “Felix, you can occupy the chair next to mine.”
“How gracious,” Felix muttered, but our host was generous enough to forgive Felix’s dismissive tone. 
“Let’s begin,” Lord Park announced, and we all situated ourselves around the table as several servants entered the room with delicious-smelling platters and dishes full of delectable offerings. “I’ve prepared the best,” Lord Park said. “Help yourselves.”
I smiled in his direction before perusing the vast selections. “It all looks amazing.”
“Thank you,” Lord Park said before briefly glancing in Felix’s direction. “Felix, my dearest boy, you are more than welcome to your share.”
I shot a glare in Felix’s direction because he refused to accept any of Lord Park’s hospitality. “I’m not hungry,” he grumbled.
“Not hungry!” Lord Park exclaimed. “I shall be offended if you sit there while the rest of us enjoy ourselves.”
“Felix,” I snapped - growing more and more irritated since he refused to look at me. “Don’t behave this way.”
“I’m not hungry!” Felix insisted with a far more aggressive tone.
“My word,” Lord Park said. “Will you let him get away with this?”
“It’s been a long week,” I tried to explain. “Felix has been stressed from making arrangements with our armies.”
“It’s still unacceptable behavior from someone in his position,” Lord Park remarked, and Felix’s hand tightened around his fork.
“He’ll improve,” I said, but I knew that Felix’s infamous fits of passionate rage could last for weeks at a time. “Please, Lord Park, tell us more about your daily affairs.”
“I would be glad to lead the conversation,” Lord Park said, and he started launching himself into a retelling of his dealings with a rather mischievous servant who had returned to work that day after nearly a week of constant absences. “Who does he think he is?” Lord Park scoffed. “Of course, I immediately sent him home without pay. We can’t have such actions go unpunished. It sets a bad example for the others.”
“Perhaps he has a good reason for staying away,” I said.
“Oh, he was going on about his wife,” Lord Park said with a roll of his eyes. “But it’s not of my concern. After all, I must keep this place in good condition for my future wife. I’ve been busy renovating a private shelter just for your dragons.”
“Oh, how fascinating,” I lied, dropping my hand on top of his and ignoring the way Felix flinched from the corner of my eye.
“Tell me about the beasts,” he requested. “Are they well-trained?”
“Of course,” I said. “They are quite obedient.”
“It’s just remarkable to me,” Lord Park continued. “They’re such a rare species. How did you find three perfectly good dragon eggs?”
I hesitated at his question, and my eyes met Felix’s for the first time that evening. Because my precious dragons had been a gift from Felix - back when I was still very young and afraid of the world. My aspirations seemed far too ambitious at the time, and I lamented to Felix that I had nothing to support my claim to the throne other than an unverifiable family tree. I told him that I wanted something to make me look powerful, and he had spent days following nothing more than a whispered rumor - until he found what he was looking for in the three dragon eggs hidden away in the mountains. When he brought them to me that night, we made love for the very first time - both young and inexperienced virgins - while the eggs sat next to the fireplace all night long.
But the next morning, the egg shells were in pieces, and three very tiny dragon hatch-lings greeted me with innocent eyes and adorable features.
“It’s a long story,” I told Lord Park before clearing my throat. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
“Take your time,” Lord Park said, but he was clearly at ease while drinking his second glass of wine.
I bowed my head in gratitude before rushing out of the dining room - entering the next chamber where a small window allowed me a discreet view of Lord Park. I could feel my stomach churn while looking at the horrible man - and I desperately wanted to blame the wine but I recognized the bitter sensation of guilt as it sunk against my chest. 
“Do you remember when I fucked you for the very first time?”
I turned around with a start at the unexpected sound of Felix’s voice - spotting him standing at the entrance to the room. “Felix,” I whispered, feeling my heart flutter against my sternum.
“You became my entire world, Y/N,” Felix said, approaching me with measured steps as I forced myself to meet his impenetrable gaze. “I feel like I’ve loved you for my whole life, and I know that I’m the only man who could ever make you truly happy.”
“Felix,” I repeated, but my confidence was in shambles, and there were tears falling in streaks because I was horrified by the idea of marrying Lord Park and losing Felix’s touch forever.
“Tell me again, Y/N,” Felix said, and he was so close that I could see the way his chest heaved with every deep breath. “If you can find the nerve to lie to me like the rat sitting in the next room, then please refuse my heart and end my misery.”
I sniffled because I was close to hysteria as I shook my head, reaching out to wrap my arms around Felix’s neck. “I love you,” I told him. “I don’t know what I would do without your presence by my side.”
“Then we’re the same,” Felix said, and I gasped when he unwound my arms and spun me around - shoving me up against the counter. “Do you think your war is worth that cruel bastard?” Felix asked, and his fingers kept a harsh grip in my hair as he forced my head back against his shoulder - whispers low and seductive in my ear. “Perhaps it might seem like it to you, but you’ll be miserable with him. And do you know why?”
“No,” I said in return. “I don’t know.”
I guess my response wasn’t enough. Because it was like my words had triggered something primal, and I was left at the mercy of Felix as he jerked my hips back away from the counter - only to bend me over as he quickly reached down to bundle the hem of my gown between one hand. And I shivered when nothing but cold air touched my most intimate place - shaking like a leaf when he tugged my panties down my legs. 
“What did those stupid assholes at the Iron Bank tell you?” Felix snarled, spreading my legs and resuming his place in the empty space - pressing the front of his erection against my heat. “Actions speak louder than words, isn’t that right?”
“Yes!” I cried because it was hard to keep myself together in the presence of this unfiltered Felix - listening to the sounds of his zipper as he tugged down his pants. His cock was warm and rigid when he used his free hand to guide the tip along my folds, moving himself up and down but never penetrating inside.
“What would those people think if they saw their queen begging for my cock?” Felix asked. “Would Lord Park think less of you if he knew that your adviser could take you whenever he pleased?”
I moaned at the rhetorical question - knowing that Lord Park was just on the other side of the glass. It fed my growing arousal, and my mouth opened around a scream when Felix started to push his cock into my sensitive pussy. “Oh!” I cried - a broken sound that only continued to increase in volume as Felix pushed down against my lower back and started pounding his cock between my tight walls.
“I’ll treat you like a slut,” Felix said. “If that’s what you really think of our relationship.”
“Nothing I said was true!” I whimpered. “I love you, Felix.”
“Yeah?” Felix purred, and it was a complete contradiction to his earlier tone. “Will you finally admit your feelings for me, Y/N? Only after I’m forced to make an example of this little cunt.”
“Please, Felix,” I said, sobbing against my forearms as both of his hands moved down to grab my waist - using it as leverage to force his cock as deep as possible. 
“Look at him while I’m fucking you,” Felix growled, holding even tighter to my waist as he fucked me like it might be the last time he would ever have the honor and privilege. “You think he could ever be this good for you?”
“Nobody can ever match you, Felix,” I told him earnestly while trying to support myself against the counter.
“This pussy belongs to me,” Felix said, snapping his hips as if trying to make a point. “It can only be satisfied by my cock.”
“You’re right,” I whined, looking up through the window where Lord Park remained seated at the table - calmly attending to his own business without any idea that the woman he was trying to seduce was getting fucked in the next room.
“You might marry that bastard,” Felix continued, anchoring my thigh around his waist to find an even better angle - hitting my g-spot with every upstroke. “But you won’t share his bed, do you understand? That privilege will remain with me!”
“Felix,” I whispered, closing my eyes when I felt my orgasm approaching - the familiar heat burning inside of me. Hotter than any dragon fire.
“My queen,” Felix said. “Say my name, Y/N. Let him hear how good my cock makes you feel.”
“Shit, Felix,” I moaned, even though I had no idea what I was actually begging him to do for me. But I knew that Felix would always do his best to give me whatever I wanted. 
“Come for me,” Felix grunted, pounding his hips into mine as he knocked my waist against the edge of the table. “I can tell that you’re close.”
But it was still the first time that I had ever come on command, and I screamed his name when I fell apart around his pulsating erection, feeling him continue to move inside of me until he was satisfied as well - cum dripping down my thighs. 
“Remember this moment,” Felix said. “Because I know you aren’t attracted to him, and I know that you aren’t serious about an engagement.”
“I’m not,” I said, leaning back into his weight as he brought us to the floor, allowing my dress to fall into place as he held me tightly in his arms. “Nobody could ever replace you, Felix.” 
“Because you’re mine,” Felix purred, and he was more pliant after being sated, sharing his deepest feelings as we resigned ourselves to the undeniable love that had followed us ever since our very first meeting on a warm, spring afternoon. 
It was such a beautiful recollection, and I found myself crying in Felix’s arms as he shushed me quietly. “I don’t want to marry him,” I said. “But what else can I do?”
“I know, my love,” Felix said, and he was so gentle as he carded his fingers through my hair - knotted from his rough touches earlier. “It pains me to see you like this, but I might have a way to prevent your suffering.”
“It’s never easy,” I said, and Felix smiled when he wiped away my tears. “I can’t turn down his ships.”
“Then marry him, Y/N,” he said, ignoring the way that I shivered. “I’ll handle the rest.”
I swallowed hard at his ominous promise. “What will you do to him?”
“It won’t involve your hand,” Felix said. “Leave it to me, my sweet queen. I’ll make sure that your heart never hurts this way again.”
I lifted my head to meet his familiar gaze, and I saw the determination right in front of me. It was reassuring, and I carefully nodded because I would always trust Felix with my life.
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One Month Later
I would always recall the winter’s morning when I set sail across the narrow sea to meet my destiny in King’s Landing.
Our enormous fleet of ships proved to be an imposing force as we started sailing across the waters - leaving behind Essos with my armies attending to their duties. The departure of our forces marked an entire month since I had married Lord Park in a private ceremony in view of the officials and his close friends and family. He had whispered to me during our first dance together - talking about how he was going to put a child inside me. 
Yet, that very same night, he could only penetrate the tip of his disgusting cock before a familiar hand was slicing across his throat - using a knife made of Valyrian steel to end Lord Park’s life. I remembered that there had been so much blood - draining from the terrible man in rivulets of crimson until he collapsed next to me face-down into the mattress. He continued to convulse as he struggled while Felix knelt in his place - wiping the blood from his skin and looking down at me with a desperate hunger. 
The news of Lord Park’s death traveled quickly, and I played the part of a distraught housewife who described the masked assassin who had snuck into our room and killed my poor husband. There was nobody to doubt me, especially when I called my dragons to the official hearing, and their intimidating presence was enough to cement my lie. And since all of Lord Park’s estate belonged to me, I could still claim his ships and wealth - using everything to catalyze my impending journey across the narrow sea. 
I was the ruthless queen who had survived death itself, and my reputation was even more formidable than it was before. There was nothing left to stop me, and I breathed in the scent of the ocean as I leaned against the banister of the impressive warship. From next to me, Felix stood tall with his long, silver hair billowing in the breeze.
“We’ll be there before sunrise,” I said, closing my eyes as I envisioned my arrival.
“Its yours for the taking, my queen,” Felix replied, and I trembled when his fingers followed the path of my spine. 
“Yes,” I agreed. “It’s all mine!” 
Felix smirked at my audacious declaration, and I held my head high as the land grew closer in the distance. Meanwhile, my dragons soared high above my ships and the army that would fight for their new queen and secure my rightful place on the Iron Throne.
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moonamite · 3 years
Text
More on the WoF TF2 au stuff nobody asked for:
-Medic was exiled from the Icewing tribe for obvious reasons. -Sniper has an Australian accent instead of a British one because he hatched and grew up in the rainforest with the rainwings. -Spy tries to conceal the emotion in his scales, but occasionally a little orange/red (Annoyance/anger) will slip out. Mostly because of Scout. -Spy disguises himself by changing his scales to look like dragons from different tribes. In his kit he has other stuff to look more authentic, For example: A fake scorpion tail for a sandwing look, Fake Icewing spikes, fake gills, and so on. -Sniper is slightly insecure about not having any special Nightwing powers. He gets annoyed when someone asks if he can read their mind. He doesn’t know that Nightwing powers are actually uncommon, and there are actually a lot of other Nightwings like him. -Scout, because he’s an idiot, hasn’t figured out he’s a hybrid yet. He thinks the multicolored scales along his neck are just there and don’t mean anything. Meanwhile all the other Mercs know he’s a hybrid. Along with the scales, there are some less obvious signs he’s part rainwing: He’s very skilled with his tail, and he has a long neck. (But then again, Skywings have very long necks, too.) He can’t shoot venom. -Medic is VERY interested in the Nightwing he works with, but even more so in the Rainwing-Skywing hybrid. He doesn’t have anything against the Nightwings, so he has nothing personal against Sniper. -Sniper does his sniping usually hanging from his tail. -Demoman is a little water-deprived from his work, so don’t be alarmed is you see him dumping a tub of water over himself. As a seawing, he needs more water to survive than the others. -Demo also has a slight fear of Animus-related things, ever since the eye incident. -Soldier lost his wings from an accident with the rocket launcher. He occasionally forgets he has no wings and will try to launch himself into the air, only to come tumbling down again. -Heavy is the Bigwings among his sisters. (Not that I needed to say that) And also the Bigwings to the team. (Found family go brrrr) -Spy and Sniper are both from the Rainforest, though they have never interacted prior to joining the team. -Nobody in the team is used to seeing so many different dragons from so many different tribes at the same time. It takes a while for them to adapt to eachother’s different customs and lifestyles. -Spy rarely gets any sun time other than the sunlight he gets when on the battlefield, so his colors are a little dull. This may also be an explanation for his bad mood. And yes, he only eats the Ripest fruit. Not one brown spot on his bananas. -They also have to get used to the different diets (Spy especially). For example; Demo eating raw fish, Spy eating fruit, Sniper eating whatever, Scout eating bird, Engineer eating camel, and heavy eating a motherfucking alligator. -Sniper lacks the superiority complex some Nightwings have. -Sniper has adopted a lot of Rainwing behaviors, like hanging from his tail. -Engineer is still the smallest, smaller than the average Sandwing. And Heavy may be the biggest Mudwing any of them have ever seen. -Engineer isn’t used to having to actually be careful with his tail barb, because other Sandwings know naturally to avoid it. -Instead of doves, Medic just has a bunch of Scavengers running around. (I’ll get more ideas eventually)
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douxie-casperan · 3 years
Note
[✂, ↕?]
The prompt below was specifically requested to be the Heart of Glass AU and features the Bad End! The second prompt will be done at a future date. 
↕ - A memory that may or may not have happened
Looking back on it the signs were there of something being wrong that couldn’t be seen being blind as they had been. Things like how Nari slowly began to close herself off haunted with sadness that they couldn’t remember seeing there before but it was evident in her eyes. She must have been hurting so much but kept putting on a brace face anyway to not make them worry and always brushing off any attempts to ask until the questions simply stopped coming. Everyone deserved privacy right? They just figured it was something that would sort it’s self out but within days of the last time they ever spoke to her she simply vanished into the night almost as though she was simply holding on that little bit longer for one of the erratic visits to come. It didn’t make the sting any less painful when word came months later when even Skrael and Bellroc began to worry over her absence. There have been more than a few sleepless nights spent wondering where she is, what she was doing, if she was simply okay that were left unanswered.
They have three reminders of the trio of beings who took him in that they always carried with them, one is etched in ink, there is the staff they love dearly even when keeping the existence of it a secret and finally the left hand which had been the first gift from Nari herself which had been carried for so many centuries of their life. This one let them be something more than useless that they would have been condemned to be otherwise making it was worth all the stares, the snide remarks and any problems it caused hundreds of times over. Now down to two, these almost felt haunted.
The other thing should have been a red flag right from the start but when you’re so traumatised and barely able to hold a thought together for more than a few seconds everything is taken at face value because beyond that is simply too much to bear. Archie confirmed she had been there to see them before Killahead while at the time they had been passed out with barely more than a handful of waking hours since it happened. She said that the Order had promised to keep the two of them safe and that she would return after ensuring that all of them would live without being in fear ever again. She wouldn’t of course, thanks to him they wouldn’t see one another again until they were living in the far-flung future of Arcadia not knowing that she was being held right beneath their feet plotting her own freedom with or without help.
Nothing comes for free; they knew that better than anyone yet never once thought to question what the price that had to be paid for such a promise to be had. It was spun to them as a means to prevent the extinction of magical beings at the behest of a mad king but it was far more than that wasn’t it? It was the ability to live without persecution being bought on the back of conquering the other to ensure it, never about restoring a balance already upset by the actions of one old man. It was so obvious and yet, and yet.
The blindfold was ripped away with a few simple words of clarifying truth and the anger it causes is barely contained any more than the magic desperate to lash out in retaliation against their own sister who stands there with helmet held in hands and a pleading expression in emerald eyes that he would somehow see her reasoning. A familiar dragon is perched on their shoulders glaring just as much bristled with a twitching tail and both can hear the echoes rattling about their brains repeating again and again of what led them here.
All of this was for you, all of it to make a world where nobody would have to suffer like you did! Gunmar is merely a means to an end for that paradise to finally come forth into reality.
At the cost of everyone else you mean, did you think for a second I'd ever want that?! Just because I suffered never meant I wanted anybody else to as well!
That was our deal, Douxie. If they would keep you both safe I would accept their power and become the Champion of Magic and right what my brother wrought against us, it was only a matter of time before we were all put to the sword and this was my one chance to finally make things right.
He's long gone! Bellroc felled him at the battle didn’t you know? His era is dead and the legacy he left drove everything underground but having a bunch of trolls running around eating people isn’t exactly going to fix everything. That’s not balance that’s genocide!
“… I’m gonna ask them myself, I want to hear the answer from them directly and if you really do care about what I think you’ll help clean up this mess you gave an open invite to instead of yanno going after the actual problem who is probably waiting for his grand moment,” is hissed whilst summoning their own staff to hand ready to use for a very specific spell reserved only for emergencies. What could be a bigger one than knowing?
“You’re older than me and I kinda liked to hope you would know better, Morgana. In case you missed the memo there’s only one person I have it out for and it sure as heck is not an entire planet full of people.”
The base is tapped and with a few whispered words a shimmering crack appears beside them that is barely visible except where the light catches the edges.
“Be better, please? Not exactly asking the world here but if I can avoid becoming jaded despite literally everything that has happened to me then I can’t see why you’re so determined to swan dive into it. I wanted you back so much, I’ve been trying so damn hard for so long to have that but right now I can’t really stand to even look at you if you can think this is remotely okay.”
“Douxie, please we can still fix this.”
They say nothing, merely giving her a soft smile before the two of them disappear beyond her reach with all the consequences she has wrought.
~~
It was all true, Skrael said so himself. Oh it was attempted to be played as somehow being a mercy that they’d been kept in the dark this entire time, of how despite so much time there had been to tell the truth that went by wasted, the same amount that could have been used to change their minds and work towards a better solution they had instead sought out something even worse than what she’d unleashed on the world fancying a bit of annihilation on a far larger scale instead. It made their heart hurt so much, why did everyone think for even one second they’d be okay with it? Any of it? That somehow being allowed to pick favourites would somehow make it magically acceptable despite knowing people that mattered to them personally could be spared while the rest would be damned?
They said culls about us too remember? All for the greater good, just a few sacrifices and spare the lot, send them forth and you’ll go free. You sound like he did.
He was… cruel, and he used you, Hisirdoux. We kept you safe; we protected you. We didn’t force the weight of the world on your shoulders- you were a boy! A young boy! You never should have had so much pressed upon you! I was only ensuring that you wouldn’t have to feel that again! You do not deserve what happened to you. Not again. I will not take part in doing that to you, not like he did.
Why were they the only one who wasn’t completely blind to what they were all heralding?
And yet didn’t stop you lying to me did it? You can’t pull a greater good on me I’ve heard it all before. Different century and it’s the same garbage. I’m tired.
Just… Let us make this right, Hisirdoux. Please. You can rest, here, Hisirdoux. You can rest, now. And in the morning, we can make it right. I can make it right.
Just tell us what we need to do and we will do it! We can’t lose you too.
It was almost ironic that this was the one time it wasn’t his fault; really it was their own if anything for believing anybody could be better than that instead of being a simple flip of the same coin. If people ended up suffering for the greater good well now that was worth it for the result because they didn’t matter, not really being little more than unnamed masses. Even Nari, one of their own, was somehow seen as an acceptable bit of fallout in the name of a false balance despite knowing she would feel each and every one of those lives being wiped out… It must have hurt to look at them, an example of both why it had to be done and why it should never be, she might have even hoped their being there might convince her siblings to change, to realise the same thing too.
They would not it seem and continuing was slowly taking everyone else down with it. Douxie did tell them both that they hoped they might yet see reason, the why, and realise why they never should have been contemplating it in the first place, of not wanting to leave and how unless they change, well they might never see one another again so please don’t try to follow. Nari was not the only one who could disappear after all as was the downside of having a very good teacher in how to do it properly and took the lessons to heart. It was probably only Archie’s presence that gave them the strength to walk away without looking back instead of breaking down crying right there over the bitter losses that were totting up one after the other though admittedly the final hug very nearly pushed them over the edge. It felt like the picture-perfect description of bittersweet.
~~
 After that things are barely held together by the thinnest of threads while the apartment is cleaned out. Nothing of importance was ever kept there but there were some things that needed to be held onto and were added to their most precious belongings taken from their room at the fortress before the argument began as an unfortunately correct precaution. Afterwards there was a key to be handed in with the words of it was simply time to move in, one place would have a notice and an apology for the suddenness while the other gained a sign saying closed until further notice knowing that the coven would likely pick over the best bits like vultures the second permission is given but they won’t mind particularly because at least anything dangerous will be removed. Right now all they care about is getting out of Arcadia and as far away as possible from the life they’d carved out there and all the traces he had tainted it with. He who had swept in taking them from their first home offering a new beginning with a home and family just to back a tyrant a few years down the line leading them to their second one just for history to repeat it’s self again and leave them in complete free fall. No lost limbs this time though, a small upside if forced to find one.
After removing the card and destroying their phone to lessen any chance of being tracked the two of them took the motorbike that was as battered and bruised as they are and rode silently through the night not caring where they would end up because anywhere else would be more than they could hope for. It’d been a while since they were last forced to rough it but they’d manage because if Douxie and Archie were anything it was survivors in a world that hated them for it and there was a lot of practice between times able to settle for any length of time. It would take three days before they felt there was enough distance to feel safe enough for risk a temporary break. The place was cheap but private having no problem with a cat companion and they were surprisingly fine about the request for a few more pillows in their room. That might have been the charm offensive and sheer exhaustion helping sell the need for it mind, was hard to tell.
Piling them up in a circle on the floor with a few blankets that had been pilfered including a few special ones that were very old, they simply flop onto them and then finally, finally allow the tears come that are without any sign of being able to stop. Within a few choked breaths a purring shape manoeuvres himself into their arms only to become louder from how tightly he’s being squeezed while a face is buried into his fur. They miss how the brand-new phone bursts into life until a voice that they felt they hadn’t heard in forever comes from it.
“Doux? Hey is that you? The hell are you I’ve be- There’s a pause upon catching the sound of someone trying to cry their heart out and her tone instantly becomes an awful lot more worried.
“Hey, hey are you okay did something happen?”
At first there is little more than the sound of snivelling and a mumbled nonsensical apology repeated over and over. She waits patiently, trying to soothe as little as she can while trapped on the other side of the speaker not even able to see what’s going on. There’s a few hiccups and stuttered starts before she finally gets the answer and of all the things in the world she could have expected this was not one of them.
“I- It happened a-again… Zoe, I, I’ve lost everything. You, you are Archie a-are all I’ve got left.”
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zaph1337 · 3 years
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Monster Hunter Rating 34: Pink Rathian, the Cherry Blossom Fire Wyvern
TEN THOUSAND YEARS WILL GIVE YOU--wait, the last review was literally this month, my bad. Well, now that I have some free time, it’s time to get back to rating monsters on an arbitrary and--as seen in the last review--incredibly subjective scale! Speaking of last review, it was pretty obvious that creating a Rathalos subspecies would also require a Rathian subspecies to go along with it. Let’s see how the Pink Rathian mixes things up!
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(How it appears in Monster Hunter Freedom 1)
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(How it appears in Monster Hunter Tri Ultimate)
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(How it appears in Monster Hunter World)
Appearance: Honestly, I’m glad that this isn’t the color the designers chose for normal Rathian, ‘cause it would have hammered in the whole “girl Rathalos” idea way too hard (you could argue that Azure Rathalos and Pink Rathian are meant to represent the colors attributed to their sexes or genders, but I think that that’s just a coincidence). Judging them strictly by personal preference, though, I think that I like the colors here a tiny bit more than I do normal Rathian’s, but not enough to earn it an extra point. 7/10.
Behavior/Lore: They’re literally just “Rathians but more aggressive.” Don’t know what I was expect--wait, there’s a reason for it?
So, Pink Rathians, like normal ones, can live almost anywhere, but they like foresty areas. The problem is, while regular Rathians have a form of camouflage thanks to their green coloring, Pink Rathians stick out like a sore thumb. Because they can no longer ambush prey or hide from other powerful monsters, they’ve become more aggressive than normal to make up for it; instead of ambushing prey, they just rush in and try to kill it as fast as possible so it can’t escape. As a side effect of this behavior, Pink Rathians are less likely to be targeted by other monsters who don’t want to incur the wrath of a dragon that probably ate its anger management instructor--the fact that they’re more powerful than normal Rathians helps, too.
As much as I wish there was more here, I have to give the devs props for at least giving a reason for the Pink Rathian’s increased aggression. Still, this is just “Rathian+,” so like Azure Rathalos, I’m giving this the same score as I did the base monster. 6/10.
Abilities: Pink Rathians have the same abilities as their base form, but as expected, they’re more dangerous. They rely less on their charge attacks, but they use more backflips and tail whips in their fighting style, and do so faster and more skillfully than normal Rathians. This makes them very dangerous, as fighting them is a constant struggle to keep your life from being drained away by poison.
Like with Azure Rathalos, I appreciate how there’s a clear idea of what makes fighting a Pink Rathian different from fighting a normal one. Using some moves more frequently than others changes up the fight quite a bit, and the fact that they’re more proficient with these moves surely makes said fight a hassle. 7/10.
Equipment: Okay, I’ve been neglecting the whole “looking at weapon descriptions” thing, so I’m gonna fix that here. First off, here’s a Charge Blade from MH4 called Dia Hekateru:
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Of course the first weapon I choose to show off is the one from a Japan-only game, and the wiki doesn’t have a translation for its description. Well, its counterpart from MH4U, Dear Hecatel, is “The Queen's Charge Blade. Ends prey in a rosy spatter, like petals in a spring wind.” That’s...morbidly beautiful? Is that a thing? Well, in any case, the weapon itself looks very pretty. The sword looks cool and effective, while the shield definitely looks like it could turn into the head of an axe. The next two weapons require both Pink Rathian and Azure Rathalos parts, starting with a Long Sword called Wyvern Blade “Blaze”:
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“A Long Sword made from a pair of kindred wyverns. Its colorful edges can slice open the sky.” Edges? Isn’t this supposed to be a single-edged blade? Okay, I’m getting nitpicky, that’s a sign to focus on something else. Well, the colors work well together, but not only is most of the Pink Rathian’s influence restricted to the sheathe, the weapon itself reminds me of cotton candy. Not exactly threatening, but I doubt monsters know what cotton candy is. Finally, here’s a Switch Axe called Azure Rose:
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“A Switch Axe made from a Pink Rathian and an Azure Rathalos. Proof one bested the pair.” Okay, I really like this, both because of the blue axe head and because of the way the dominant color depends on the form the Switch Axe is in. If it’s in Axe Mode, then most of the visible weapon is devoted to Azure Rathalos, while Sword Mode represents Pink Rathian. Someone more versed in MH than me could possibly draw parallels between the different fighting styles the modes use and the monsters they’re themed after, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s just me reading too much into this. On to the armor, unfortunately the MHO images were the only ones on the wiki that I really liked, and while they look similar to the Rathian armor designs I showed before, they’re not exact. Take that as a plus or a minus depending on your preference, but here’s the Blademaster set either way:
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Y’know, now that I compare this with the Rathian set I showed off before, they’re much more different than I thought they were. They’re from different games, so it makes sense, but this is still quite jarring. Anyways, I prefer said Rathian armor over this, at least for the men’s set, mostly because I prefer the helmet being made of monster parts rather than metal. The red parts erupting from it are a nice touch, though obviously they don’t match the color of the monster they came from. The women’s set from MHO loses some of the “warrior queen” theming present in the Tri version in favor of being more regal, but at least the dress actually looks like you could dodge roll with it (yes I’m still hung up on that). As for the Gunner version:
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It’s not even close to resembling the Gunner Rathian armor I showed off before, so I won’t even try to compare them. Well, okay, I will say that the arm guard on the men’s armor from Tri is much more practical than the one seen here, ‘cause it doesn’t take up the entire arm. I get that the point is to shield yourself, but you also need to be able to flex that arm a little. Having part of the chest be covered in literal scale-mail is a nice touch, though.  Also I haven’t brought any attention to it but that’s a really silly helmet. As for the women’s set, the helmet is very similar to the one I showed off in the Rathian review, but that’s where most of the similarities end. Said helmet comes with a facemask made of Pink Rathian scales (insert topical social distancing joke here), which can’t be easy to breathe through. Also, what the heck is that amorphous gold thing below the mask? What purpose does it serve other than confusing me? Final talking point, there’s a piece of metal dress here for some reason and it makes even less sense than having a full metal dress.
I think that the Pink Rathian equipment is about as good as the regular Rathian equipment; I like the weapons that also have Azure Rathalos parts more, but those aren’t the majority and basing my rating off of weapons that are also themed after another monster seems shallow. 8/10.
Final Thoughts and Tally: You might have noticed that every category here got the same score that it did in the Rathian review, and that says a lot about how I feel about Pink Rathian. I like it just as much as I do normal Rathian, and I’m sure I would have different opinions if I fought a Pink Rathian before, but I’ve barely fought any monster as is. I’m also not really willing to use too much of my brainpower on figuring out what I like better between them, mostly because I’m missing some of my meds and all the work I’ve had to do moving house has put enough strain on my brain as is. I hope to continue seeing support for the project, though; it’ll really help me when I work on future reviews! 7/10.
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Conflict of Interest
Part 2 of the Dragon of the Yuyan
Read on AO3 | Series Masterpost
Toshiaki sits on his bunk, waxing his bowstrings and watching Kai teach Zuko their sign-language. It's been over two weeks since the boy snuck into the Stronghold, and he's still underweight and standoffish, but he trails after the Troop with dogged determination, and he's picking up their language with dizzying speed.
He already has his own name in their language, gifted by Kai, who seems determined to befriend the kid. In turn, Kai seems to be the only one of the Troop that Zuko willingly lets within arms' reach, although he still shies away from casual touch.
Zuko successfully speeds through his latest vocabulary lists, and hesitantly draws Kai into a conversation about food, which seems to be both boys' favorite topic.
My favorite dish is mutton-pork fried rice, he signs slowly. I also like apples, and mangos.
Kai replies, Mutton-pork fried rice is delicious! I like spicy noodles with shrimp, and plums.
Zuko's single eyebrow furrows as he puzzles out what Kai is saying, and the tiny smile that forms when he figures it out and replies, I like plums too! is unfairly adorable.
Easy there, Commander, he thinks to himself, coiling the bowstrings up and returning them to their pouch, he's an asset, not a pygmy puma kitten.
Mika strides up to the boys, a small pouch in her hand. Zuko, would you like some fire-flakes?
Zuko eyes her suspiciously, but replies, Yes, please.
Mika hands him the pouch, and Zuko peeks inside before signing Thank you.
You’re welcome. Mika reaches out to him like she’s going to ruffle his shaggy black hair, but pulls back at Zuko’s flinch. She gives him a soft smile, and heads over to her own bunk.
Kai waves a hand to get Zuko’s attention. Can I have some fire-flakes too?
Zuko nods and holds the pouch open for Kai to help himself. Kai takes a few, and scoots back with an easy smile when Zuko’s expression turns anxious. The fact that he was able to share the fire-flakes at all feels like a momentous step, since the kid protects his food like a hungry boarcupine.
The door to the dormitory opens, and the Stronghold CMO, Commander Atsuko, steps inside. Zuko immediately notices her entrance, and keeps a wary eye on her as she strides directly over to Toshiaki.
“May I have a private word, Commander Toshiaki?” She asks quietly. Her face and voice give nothing away, but Toshiaki is absolutely certain that this discussion is going to be about their newest recruit.
Absolutely, Commander Atsuko, Toshiaki replies, rising. Shall we go to my office?
“That would be best, I believe,” Atsuko says, and they walk to the administrative wing of the Keep.
Toshiaki sits down at his desk. What's on your mind, Atsuko?
"I think you need to see this," Atsuko replies, retrieving a scroll from the folds of her medic's robes. She spreads it out on the surface of his desk. "Your newest recruit might actually have Royal blood."
It's a professionally done ink drawing on fine paper, about a year old, and depicts the Fire Lord and his Heirs. Fire Lord Ozai stands tall and regal and powerful in the center, his bearing rigid and imperious even as the brush strokes that form his image flow gracefully. At the Fire Lord's right, the place of favor and prominence, stands the Fire Princess Azula. Even at the tender age of eleven, the cold eyes and calculating smirk on the Princess's face is unsettling, a nearly exact copy of those on the face of her father. In contrast, the Fire Prince on his father's left has eyes like warm embers, banked but still radiating kindness like heat, and his little quirked smile is slightly pained but earnest. Toshiaki can easily imagine that smile on a face a little thinner with hunger and half obscured with a horrific burn.
You're certain of this? He asks.
"I am," she replies. "My uncle is a Royal Scribe, and so has access to the Palace. He's also a… fan… of the Royal Family, and likes to keep abreast of events pertaining to them. Seven months ago, he wrote me a letter."
Toshiaki listens with mounting horror as Atsuko describes how the Fire Prince, only thirteen years old, had been shocked to find his father, his Fire Lord, across the dueling arena. How he had immediately dropped to his knees and begged his father for forgiveness. How the Fire Lord had burned his own child's face.
"My uncle says that the Fire Prince disappeared from the Palace after that," Atsuko says. "The Fire Lord, long may he reign, has made no decrees in regards to the whereabouts of the boy, but has quietly ordered all records and images of him destroyed. Uncle Katsuo hid the items in his personal collection pertaining to the Fire Prince instead of destroying them. I wrote to him two weeks ago asking if he had any recent images of the Royal Family, and he sent me that portrait."
Toshiaki is still trying to wrap his mind around the situation. But first things first…
Did you tell anyone else about this? He demands.
"No, and Uncle Katsuo knows to be discreet," Atsuko answers. "He wouldn't last very long as a Royal Scribe if he wasn't."
Good, let's keep it that way for now, Toshiaki signs, slumping tiredly. Great Agni above…
"Do you want my recommendation?"
He blinks up at her, surprised. Atsuko is normally the picture of a loyal Fire Nation medical officer--detached and clinical in all things. Her tone now, though…
Please.
Atsuko takes a breath. "The patient presented with advanced undernourishment, suggesting that he has been subsisting on whatever he could catch or forage. His clothes were Caldera silks, inappropriate for the terrain, and he had no possessions other than a pearl dagger, too fine a make for him to have simply found or stolen it. He has thin burns consistent with the fire lash technique all over his back, all at least a year or more old. The burn on his face saw immediate treatment, thank Agni, but the bandaging was taken off too soon, and it hasn't seen any kind of aftercare to minimize the scarring."
The doctor's fists are balled at her sides, she's snapping each word off as though it had personally offended her.
"Fire Prince Zuko was left for dead, Commander. He was not meant to survive this long, and if Agni hadn't made him the single most tenacious man I've ever seen, he would be dead months ago. It is my recommendation that we ensure that no one else figures out who he is. For his own safety."
Toshiaki can feel the headache brewing like a Yanshima thunderstorm. You have given me a lot to think about, Commander, he signs. May I keep the portrait?
"I was planning on destroying it anyway," she says, shrugging. "Don't want people putting pieces together that ought not to be." She forms the Flame with her hands, he does the same, and they bow to each other. Then she sweeps out of his office without another word.
Toshiaki groans aloud in the privacy of his own office. Great Agni and all the stars, what is he supposed to do? He is a loyal soldier of the Fire Nation, and has been for fifteen years. He has made oaths before Agni to serve and obey his Fire Lord and to serve and protect his Nation.
The will of the Fire Lord is as his own.
The will of the Fire Lord is the death of this boy.
It is obvious that Zuko was never meant to survive. The Fire Lord wanted him gone, but didn't care enough to order his death. If Toshiaki reported the situation to Colonel Shinu, word would eventually get back to the Fire Lord, who would then order the boy's immediate execution. And as a loyal soldier of the Fire Nation, Toshiaki would be bound by oath to carry out that order.
Toshiaki has been a soldier for fifteen years. He is the leader of a specialized unit that infiltrates enemy territory and captures or eliminates targets that the regular Army is not trained or equipped to handle. He and his Troop are a precision tool to be utilized for the progression of the March of Civilization. They pave the way for the Fire Nation to spread its greatness to the rest of the world.
By all accounts Toshiaki shouldn’t even have to think about it—but he can’t stop looking at the portrait in front of him, seeing the tiny, shy smile on Zuko’s face as he signs haltingly with Kai, and thinking, why?
Why would the Fire Lord turn on his own son? Why would the Fire Lord burn and abandon his own child? Toshiaki doesn’t have any children of his own, but he remembers his own father with great fondness, and cannot think of a single thing he could have done at age thirteen that would have caused Shui of Yanshima to treat him as cruelly as Ozai had treated Zuko.
And if the Fire Lord could treat his own family in such a manner, then what was to stop him from doing the same to his loyal troops?
He already has, Toshiaki realizes, remembering a dispatch from the front that had come through a few months ago. It had extolled the honorable sacrifice of the 41st Division against powerful Earth Kingdom forces south of Ba Sing Se. Assistance had been too late to stop the wholesale slaughter of the 41st, but the Fire Nation forces that had attacked the enemy’s rear had avenged them.
Captain Daichi of Jun Company had lost a cousin when the 41st had died. After the dispatch about the battle had been read, he’d confided in Toshiaki that the entire division had been composed of raw recruits. The average age had been 18.
Maneuvers on that scale were planned by the Fire Lord’s Council of War. The Fire Lord himself had to approve them before they were even written down.
The Fire Lord had sent an entire division of teenagers to their deaths.
But he’d done it to his son first.
Toshiaki feels sick. The headache that had been brewing earlier is now roaring in his head like a tigerdillo, sending arrows of pain zinging through his brain. He drops his head in his hands, fingers massaging his temples where it feels like his skull is falling apart.
Falling apart the way his faith is.
Fifteen years. Fifteen years of service to a nation that sends its children to be slaughtered. Fifteen years of service to a line of despots that savages its own people.
It can’t go on.
But what can he do?
The portrait catches his eye again, and he stares at the tiny smile on the prince’s face, rendered in ink. Thinks of the same tiny smile as the prince shares his fire-flakes with his friend.
There is none of his father’s cruelty in Zuko. Toshiaki has not known the boy long, but he knows that. For all of his wariness, he still accompanies the Troop through their drills and practice, smiling timidly in congratulations when the younger members succeed in their tasks, and providing escort to the infirmary when they get hurt (despite how nervous Atsuko obviously makes him). Toshiaki has seen him petting the vermin-catching pygmy pumas that live half-feral in the Stronghold, and the Hawkmaster has admitted to allowing the boy to feed the messenger hawks treats. Fire Prince Zuko may be royalty, but he is also startlingly kind.
Crown Prince Zuko. No decrees have been issued removing the Prince from the line of succession. Princess Azula was titled Crown Princess on the Summer Solstice, implying her position as heir apparent, but the Fire Lord has not yet stated his intentions outright. It is likely that he will wait to do so until Azula is eighteen, legally an adult. At that point, it is only a matter of time until Azula gets tired of waiting for her turn on the throne.
Heirs to the Caldera Throne can be legally challenged. Zuko would be able to challenge his sister for the Throne that is rightfully his.
Assuming he lives that long.
Toshiaki looks at the portrait once more, then rolls it up and feeds it into the small brazier that warms his office.
Well, Toshiaki will just have to make sure he does.
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ladylynse · 4 years
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Part 7 [FF | AO3] of Whirlwind: Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny should’ve expected something like this when he got that phone call. (Secret Quartet crossover)
(previous | timeline post)
-|-
6:48 PM
Susan leaned against the rough brick of the building behind her, trying and failing to stop trembling.
She could still hear his voice in her head, screaming at her, commanding her, and she wasn’t convinced everything was imagined.
This all felt real enough, now that she was back on the ground, but while she’d been in the air….
She sucked in another deep breath and held it, trying to calm the rapid beating of her heart. It was hard to hear anything above the blood pounding in her ears except the phantom voice in her head. She was on the ground again, she was herself again, but she wasn’t…. She couldn’t….
Susan pried the fingers of her right hand off her necklace. She’d been clutching it so tightly that angry red lines were carved into her palm. Part of her wanted to throw the necklace away and see if that broke his hold over her, but she couldn’t make her hands move, not even to simply touch the clasp.
What had she done?
She’d been angry. She’d been foolish. And now…. Now, she might endanger her family. That was the deal she’d made. She hadn’t…. She hadn’t been thinking. She knew better than to dabble in magic like this. There was no fix for the way she was, the fact that she didn’t have the powers that the rest of her family did, but—
But for a moment, when she’d realized it could be given to her, she’d wanted it more than anything else.
She should have never agreed.
How could she have agreed when her own son was the American Dragon? He was undeniably one of the heroes of the NYC. She couldn’t just ignore that fact. She couldn’t talk her way around it, like she had with Danny Phantom and the new Ninja hero. And she didn’t need to know who Chat Noir was to know that she shouldn’t have agreed to steal anything from him, either. It was easy to see all of that now, but in the moment when he’d asked her—
It hadn’t seemed like refusal would be a better option. It hadn’t seemed like an option at all. There had only been agreement. That she’d been able to argue as much as she had, to use his magic to unleash her birthright, her bloodright, when it should have remained forever locked away—
It shouldn’t have been something to consider.
She’d come to terms with being powerless.
She was happy.
So why had she—?
Susan reached up and fisted the hair on top of her head, trying to silence the last vestiges of Hawk Moth’s voice. She could still feel his anger—at her, at Chat Noir, at Phantom and the Ninja. He didn’t know about Jake yet, but subtle was one thing her son was not. The American Dragon would be here soon enough, ready to fight her, as he should. It was his duty to protect the magical creatures of this country, to keep their secret—
“What have I done?” Susan whispered. She knew how prestigious this event had been. She knew there would be cameras, that everything that had happened would be plastered on the evening’s news and the morning paper unless they could find a way to contain it. This wouldn’t be one voice that was easily dismissed, no seemingly wild claim made by a man who had cried wolf before.
She’d offered Rotwood the proof he so dearly wanted that dragons were very much real, and Phantom being back in the city would merely give him another opportunity to prove the existence of ghosts.
She had to get away. She had to leave. She couldn’t stay here. That would put Jake in danger. That would put all of them in danger.
Distance might break the bond she’d forged with Hawk Moth. She had to try. She had to…to….
Her feet wouldn’t move.
They wouldn’t be fast enough, anyway. She wanted to fly, to feel the wind beneath her wings again, to feel what she’d been missing out on for so long, to keep putting all those lessons from childhood into practice, all those long hours of helping Jake and Haley and—
“No,” moaned Susan, closing her eyes and sliding down the wall so that she could curl into a ball. No one was around, no one had been there to see her change back, but it felt like the eyes of the world were on her. Staring. Demanding. Trying to call Dracona back out.
She couldn’t fight off Hawk Moth forever.
It was easier when she was like this, when she wasn’t transformed. It was…quieter. But she was still tied to him. She could almost feel the strings that bound her to him, the way he was ready to have her dance like a marionette, and she didn’t know how to cut herself free.
Susan wanted to scream, but all that came out was a sob.
-|-
6:59 PM
Adrien wasn’t having much luck. Well, no one had recognized him and started to gush over Adrien Agreste, which was a plus, but the Gabriel brand wasn’t as well known over here, and he kept his hood up. He was more likely to be spotted by Nathalie or the Gorilla than by a random fan. The fact that he wasn’t—so far, at least—was lucky.
The fact that he couldn’t hear anything definitive about the dragon was not.
As far as he could tell, it had soared overhead, rounded a corner, and never come back. Adrien had made his way towards that corner—it was the same building where he’d last seen the dragon—but while some people seemed to be waiting expectantly for the dragon to come back, most thought the show was over.
Because that’s all people thought this was.
A show.
Evidently, news of the regular attacks in Paris had not reached the media here—at least not in a form that anyone believed.
Adrien stayed well away from any authority figures, not wanting to give anyone reason to look at him twice. If the dragon came back, or if anything else interesting came up, he’d know soon enough. Most shouts might not be coherent above the general babble of the crowd, but he knew how word could spread.
Eventually, reluctant though he was to leave the relative safety of the crowds, he widened his search. While some people were still coming and crowding as close to the police tape as they could, others were trickling away. He trailed behind some people leaving who had only ever been curious bystanders, judging by their casual dress, and tried to look for the dragon without making it obvious that he was looking for anything.
“Stop,” Plagg finally whispered into his ear, catching something Adrien could not. “I can feel something.”
Adrien couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but he stepped off to the side and pulled out his phone. He held it up to his ear and said, “There’s nothing here.”
“You just don’t know what you’re looking for.”
He was looking for signs of a dragon, and those were conspicuously absent. No claw marks in the pavement, no one screaming or even running away from something, no glint of light off a fallen scale…. Not that he’d necessarily see anything on that front. It was dusk. Sooner rather than later, the streetlights would flick on, regardless of the light pollution that gave the clouds above a soft orangey glow.
Adrien was better off paying attention to Plagg’s nose—or whatever sense the kwami was using—than to his eyes.
“There’s someone here,” Plagg continued. “Nearby. And someone else, too, from that shop. Maybe a few of them. Higher up, maybe. It’s hard to tell. They’re farther away.” There was a pause. “There’s also a pizza place down the street, if you could get me some cheese—”
“I promise I’ll go back to the hotel after this,” Adrien interrupted. Though he wouldn’t mind getting something to eat, he doubted he had enough money on him for a slice of pizza. “Then we can both eat supper. Nathalie will have arranged something for me.”
He didn’t add that Nathalie must have noticed he was gone by now. His father wouldn’t have, being busy as he was, but Nathalie and the Gorilla—
Someone knocked into him, mumbled sorry, and kept walking. With Plagg’s claws suddenly digging into his neck, Adrien turned to get a better look at the retreating woman. He hadn’t been paying enough attention to recognize her as she’d walked by, but she wasn’t wearing a coat despite the rapidly cooling air, and he recognized her uniform. “She’s from the catering company.”
He expected Plagg to ask him to follow her to try to get some cheese. Instead, Plagg hissed, “Be careful.”
“But she’s from the catering company.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket, paused just long enough to confirm that the woman had walked out of a now-empty alley, and started to tail her.
“That’s no reason to follow her.”
It was…odd of Plagg to point that out. Plagg took more risks than Adrien would ever dare, and this was hardly foolhardy. If she happened to notice him, he could let her know who he was and ask after her well-being, pretend that he wanted—
“Stop it,” Plagg tried again, and Adrien hissed through his teeth as Plagg dug in his claws again. “You shouldn’t— Stop. This is a bad idea. We shouldn’t get mixed up in this.”
“We’re already mixed up in this,” Adrien murmured, “whether you like it or not. Hawk Moth is—”
“This isn’t just about Hawk Moth! That woman…. She’s…she’s with the dragons. And the others are close. I know they are. I can feel them. They aren’t…. Adrien, let her go.”
Adrien sighed, stopped to lean against a lamppost, and pulled out his phone just as the woman glanced over her shoulder at him. He kept his head down and she turned away, but he still couldn’t remember seeing her.
And she didn’t look remotely dragon-ish.
“The thing about dragons,” Plagg continued quietly, thankfully retracting his claws now that Adrien had stopped, “is that you can’t ordinarily pick them out of a crowd.”
“Plagg, they’re dragons.”
“And the thing that dragons don’t want humans to know is that they can also look like ordinary people.”
“What?”
“I don’t…. I didn’t want to get you into trouble by telling you this, but you need to know. I think that woman is a dragon. Something…something about her makes my fur stand up. And her allies are going to look just as human.”
“Wait, so those people in that electronics shop…?”
“I’d bet my last wheel of camembert on it.”
Perfect. Another thing Plagg didn’t do lightly. “So the dragon we saw might not even be an akuma. This might not be Hawk Moth after all. The Critic’s akuma—”
“I don’t know. The dragons…. They wouldn’t want this to happen. It’s too public. Something’s wrong. And, no, I don’t know how the Ninja fits into it.”
“What about the phantom?”
“I’m a good guy, I swear.”
Adrien jumped away from the voice, ducking as he did so, but even once he’d found his feet again and looked up and around, he couldn’t see anything. Plagg fell silent, though Adrien could still feel his claws digging into his neck. How had Phantom found him? How could he have known to come back here? To even look here, blocks from where he’d snatched Adrien away the first time?
And how had he managed to find Adrien, be so confident that he had found him, to talk to him when he wasn’t transformed?
It wasn’t comforting to know that Plagg couldn’t give him advance warning, either. Adrien doubted he’d have kept silent if he’d sensed Phantom’s presence. Plagg had said they all smelled different—or felt different, whatever he really meant, since Adrien wasn’t sure—but what if Phantom’s different had only ever been an absence? An absence Plagg couldn’t notice unless he was looking for it?
“Look, I’m sorry, really. Please don’t run or scream or anything.”
The voice was still coming from the direction of the lamppost, near where Adrien had been standing seconds before, and there was still no one in sight.
Phantom’s a ghost, Plagg had said. And Adrien knew Phantom could become invisible—that’s how he’d gotten the jump on him in the first place—but it was still unnerving. At least when he and Ladybug had fought Vanisher, she couldn’t fly or move through solid objects.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.”
“I can’t even see you,” Adrien said quietly, “so why should I trust a word you say to me now?” He would’ve liked to feign ignorance, to pretend he had no idea what Phantom was talking about, but it was far too late for that. He’d reacted, getting ready to fight instead of just run, and he had no idea how long Phantom had been there, listening to him and Plagg, before deciding to jump in and join the conversation.
“I don’t expect you to trust me right away.” The voice was closer to him now. Quieter. “I just…. I don’t know where the cameras are here. I don’t want to be the one to give the rest of the world undeniable proof that ghosts exist, since my friend says no one believes the stories that come out of my hometown and he’d like to keep it that way. That’s why I’m staying invisible. Unless you want to duck into the alley, and then I can crouch behind the dumpster or something.”
Like he was going to let Phantom lure him into the alley—especially if Plagg was right about the lady from before being a dragon.
“C’mon, Chat Noir,” Phantom said, dropping his voice so much that Adrien could barely hear it above the traffic, “just hear me out, please. I screwed up. I’m sorry. I…. I shouldn’t have attacked you. My friend, he, um, knows about your ring, and what it lets you do. He panicked when he saw you. He’d gotten this prophecy from a couple of oracles and…. It’s a long story. Just, we messed up. We need to fix this. And we need your help. The Ninja says you seem to know what’s going on when it comes to these butterflies.”
“You know the Ninja?”
“Um. Kinda. Not well. We’ve only just met. I’m not from here. Neither is he, so he doesn’t know my friend, either.”
Adrien didn’t need Plagg to stick a single warning claw into his neck to know that he had to watch what he asked and how he asked it. “Who is your friend?” He already knew the answer. Plagg already knew the answer. But they needed to know what Phantom was going to tell them.
“He’s the American Dragon. Not, uh, the dragon that’s been terrorizing people, I promise. He wants to stop that. We both do. We’re just not sure how. The Ninja…. He said he saw what happened. The butterfly that caused her to change into a dragon.”
“He knows where the akuma’s hiding.” That was a relief. It would save Adrien precious time if he didn’t have to search for it and risk guessing incorrectly. It might still take him long enough to get it, of course, but—
“That’s what you call them? Akumas?”
“That’s how Hawk Moth changes people.” Even if Phantom wasn’t on his side, telling him that much wouldn’t put Adrien in any more danger than he was already. Whether or not Phantom was working with Hawk Moth and pretending otherwise, he already knew Adrien’s identity, and that was the more pressing issue. He already knew Adrien’s Miraculous was his ring, too. If he decided to steal it, Adrien wasn’t sure he could stop him.
“Will you help us stop him? Please? Call a truce for now, even if you don’t trust us more than you have to?”
He wanted to say no. He wanted to throw Phantom’s apology back in his face, to say that it wasn’t that simple to come back from practically trying to kill someone.
But he’d rather have Phantom as an ally than as an enemy, and it sounded like the Ninja was willing to work with him. Not that Adrien really knew the Ninja well enough to be trusting his judgement like this, but Ladybug wasn’t here, and Adrien could use the help.
Besides, from what Adrien now knew, Hawk Moth likely had recalled the Critic’s akuma and transferred its power to this one. Adrien wasn’t wholly sure if Hawk Moth could have a dormant akuma and an active one at the same time—Ladybug had never let another akuma go free without cleansing it—but he doubted the akuma would be as powerful as this one seemed to be if Hawk Moth was capable of that.
“I want to meet your friends before I agree to anything,” Adrien said, and Plagg let out a loud sigh.
“Then I want some camembert first. I’m hungry.”
Adrien didn’t need to see Phantom to guess his reaction; he wouldn’t have heard Plagg speak before unless he had been listening in on the conversation for a while. Adrien fixed a small smile on his face, though it was arguably more of a smirk than something suitably apologetic. “Yes, I should get some camembert for Plagg first.”
“That’s your…cat, right?”
“One of my best friends.” Adrien wasn’t about to explain what a kwami was to a ghost, especially one he didn’t completely trust.
“Right. Okay. Um. If you’ll let me, I’ll help you get it. I can make you invisible and intangible, too, as long as I’m touching you. That’ll probably be faster, especially with these crowds. We can even fly to wherever it is and then catch up with the Am Drag and the Ninja.”
Adrien frowned. “So in other words, trust you completely?”
“Oh. Right.” There was a pause, and then he felt an invisible hand pressing something into his own. “This is a Fenton Phone. It’ll let us communicate. Please actually wear it and, um, try not to break it. Then, when you’ve fed your cat, we can meet up and figure this out. Please?”
“I’ll call you when I’m ready,” Adrien said, curling his fingers around the strange earpiece. “If you want me to trust you, then you can trust me to do that and not try to follow me. Deal?”
“Deal,” Phantom agreed, but he didn’t sound happy about it. That was fine; Adrien didn’t particularly care if he was happy about it. He cared that Phantom didn’t learn more about him than he already had until he was ready to reciprocate.
Of course, Adrien wouldn’t know right away if Phantom stuck to their deal, not if Plagg couldn’t necessarily tell him, but he had to take risks if he was going to beat Hawk Moth this time, and this was a small enough place to start.
-|-
7:05 PM
“Yeah, that’s her,” Randy said as he passed Jake’s cell phone back to him. “That’s even the necklace she was wearing.”
Great.
Jake would’ve liked, just this once, for this all to be a big misunderstanding. For the new dragon to be someone else, as opposed to someone who knew everything about real dragons and therefore had more knowledge about how they flew than anyone who didn’t have a job or hobby related to flight. (Before he’d ever met Rotwood, he might’ve worried about people who actually believed in dragons, but he was fairly sure that no one who believed in dragons knew anything about them, at least not if they were reading the same books as Rotwood. He had far more reason to worry about ornithologists or biologists with niche interests or someone who otherwise devoted a lot of time to studying flying dinosaurs and the like.)
At least meeting up with Randy hadn’t been any trouble. He could look on the bright side, right? Just because that was the only bright side, didn’t mean he should ignore it entirely.
“I need to warn the others.” He didn’t know how he was going to break this news. His mom knew how important maintaining secrecy was for the magical world. He didn’t know what would have made her flaunt the existence of magic—the existence of dragons—so flagrantly. When she didn’t even want to tell his dad….
“Need help? If you show me more pictures, I can help you look for them in the crowd.”
Jake shook his head. “Nah, I can just phone Fu, and he’ll pass it on. Just….”
“It’s hard?” Randy guessed. Jake blinked, and Randy nodded. “Yeah, I know what it’s like to have someone you care about be stanked. It sucks.”
Jake frowned. He wasn’t sure what exactly stanked was, but— “That’s not what this is.”
“It’s pretty close. Except the dragon lady hasn’t tried to cause chaos, which is a point in your mom’s favour.”
Right. There was that, too. Chat Noir might not be the bad guy Jake had thought he was, but it was hard to misinterpret beware of the butterflies. And while exposure of the magical world, of the existence of dragons, was bad, it was not as bad as it arguably could be. There wasn’t mass panic and people getting hurt in the rush to get away. More reporters weren’t arriving by the minute to report on this story. No one—that he’d heard, at least—was doing what Rotwood would’ve done and loudly proclaimed that they had all seen a real, live dragon.
That was…odd.
Particularly for something that had warranted a prophecy from the twins and which apparently required outside help.
And, clearly, telling more people the truth about dragons.
At least Randy had taken it well. And he had some magical artefacts on him that he was clearly supposed to have. Jake was sure that would help his case when all of this was over and he got another earful from Gramps. He was definitely going to need to check out Norrisville in the future, though.
“Just…gimme a minute, okay?” Randy nodded, so Jake flipped his phone back open and dialled Fu’s number as he walked a short distance away. It didn’t really matter—there were too many people around for this conversation to be private—but pretending gave some semblance of comfort right now. The upside was, no one else who overheard it would understand enough for it to be dangerous.
“What’s going on, kid?”
“It’s Mom.” Jake didn’t know how to sugarcoat it. He didn’t know if he should. “The…the dragon on the news.”
He expected anything from denial to a joke to a demand for clarification, but he got silence instead.
“You still there?”
“Hold on a sec.” There was shuffling and static, the indistinct murmur of Fu’s voice, a roar of wind, and then, “We’ve got you on speaker. You wanna repeat that?”
“It’s Mom,” he said again. He knew Haley would have met up with the others by now, and he could imagine her reaction more easily than G’s; she’d be all wide eyes and slightly open-mouthed, might even gasp in denial, but Gramps wouldn’t react so openly. He’d go still, pressing his lips together and thinking hard before parting them.
“The magic skipped her generation,” Haley whispered. Jake could barely hear her. He might not have made it out if he hadn’t known she might say that. At least her saying it at all meant they were hunkered down safely on their end. They could speak more freely than he could.
“I know, but…. I got confirmation, okay? My…friend. Randy. He saw the whole thing. It was a butterfly.”
Silence on the other end of the line again. He wondered if he could have prevented this if he’d been able to be more specific when he’d talked to her earlier. If he’d had a chance to properly warn her, to tell her about Sara’s prophecy and the butterflies and not just about Chat Noir, would she still have been targeted? Had she even been targeted, or was it just random chance that she’d—?
Random would be better.
A target meant this Hawk Moth person Randy had told him about knew she was special. Knew about her connections to the dragons and to magic, if not that she’d been born into the magical world. Of course, even if Hawk Moth hadn’t known all that, there was no guarantee they still didn’t know all that, and—
“How do we stop her?”
“We need her necklace. That’s where it landed. But we’ll need to find her first. I don’t know where she is. I haven’t seen her, and the dragon’s gone.”
“I’ll call my contacts,” Fu said, “and put out the word to avoid this stretch of town.”
“Tell them to avoid Mom, too. Just in case. I…. She might not be thinking clearly.” If she was thinking clearly, she wouldn’t have done any of this. “Trixie and Spud are going to try to stop Rotwood, but he was coming here, too, and….” And did that really matter now? Now that there was footage from multiple news stations showing a dragon? The fact that some people thought it was a planned stunt was great, but not everyone was going to buy that. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You must continue to be cautious, young dragon,” Gramps said. “Haley and Fu will meet with you and your friends. I will continue to search for Susan on my own. Let me know whatever else you are able to discover immediately.”
“You trust your new friends, kid?” Fu asked.
“I….” They hadn’t questioned the fact that he’d mentioned Randy and not Danny, but clearly they hadn’t missed it. “Yeah. Randy’s cool. It’ll be fine. It’s just….” There were too many people around for Fu to talk freely if he came here. “You should stay with Gramps. All of you. It’s too crowded here.”
“I’m not staying behind,” Haley said immediately. “I can help. Let me help. No one’s going to suspect me! I’m too cute and innocent-looking.” There was a slight pause, but before he could spit out a denial, she added, “Please. This is Mom. I…I need to do this, Jake.”
How was he supposed to refuse her that?
“Fine.” He was going to regret this. He could regret it later. “Meet me at—” Jake broke off and looked around. Which was the least crowded place nearby? He gave her the street corner and then added, “But you should really stay with G, Fu. You’re gonna be a lot more help to us if you can be yourself.” Fu’s sense of smell wasn’t great, whatever he pretended, and having to act like a dog all night would be torturous for him. “Please?”
“Copy that. I’ll run interference and do what I can behind the scenes. But if you need anything, you call, capiche? I’ve been working on my bark. You don’t need to bench me for that.”
“Thanks, Fu. You guys take care of yourselves. Gramps—”
“You are the American Dragon, young one. I will not always question your judgement.”
Right. He’d just question it most of the time. Namely, whenever he assumed Jake was making the wrong call. “One more thing. The kid who came into the shop today? With the ring? He’s called Chat Noir. And he’s not working with this Hawk Moth person. The one with the butterflies. He’s on our side. Or he will be, if we can convince him we’re really supposed to be on his. I haven’t talked to him yet, but I trust that my friends made the right call on this. So if you see him, help out, okay? We were wrong. He’s not the bad guy.”
Jake heard some low muttering in Chinese that would have been a lot worse if Gramps hadn’t just said that he wasn’t always going to question Jake’s judgement.
“And this probably doesn’t matter too much considering the circumstances, but Danny kinda told Randy our family secret.”
Now there was yelling.
More consequences to deal with later.
“Yo, I’ve gotta split. I’ll see you when you get here, Haley!” He flipped his phone closed, silencing the thundering curses in a language he still barely understood. He tapped the Fenton Phone Randy had given him earlier as he walked back towards Randy and said, “Hey, Phantom, you got anything?”
“I found our cat friend. Gave him a Fenton Phone. Not sure if he’s wearing yet. He’ll call us when he’s ready to meet up.” There was a pause. “I promised not to follow him.”
“So you’re following him?”
“I thought about it,” Danny admitted, “but we need him, so no. Trust is a two-way street, and we really need to earn it.”
“Good call. I checked in with the others. Haley’s gonna join us. Haven’t heard from Trixie or Spud yet, so they’re probably still busy with Rotwood.”
“Think they’ll need help?”
“They’ll shout if they do. Until then, we’ve got bigger fish to fry. You heading back now or still scouting?”
“I’ll keep searching till we hear from Chat Noir.”
“Just be careful, Phantom. We don’t know what else this Hawk Moth has up their sleeve.”
Danny said something—acknowledgement or agreement—before signing off, and Jake reached Randy again and filled him in. He knew he was lucky to have friends helping with him with this. He knew he was lucky, even if it didn’t really seem like it right now, that Sara had given him the warnings she could. He knew he was very lucky that Chat Noir was even considering helping them after what they’d done.
But even if they found his mom and figured out a way to help her, even if Randy and Chat Noir swore not to say anything about the truth about dragons, he didn’t know how to fix the very obvious exposure of the magical world to everyone else. Even if people didn’t believe it right away, when it came out that this wasn’t a stunt…. They couldn’t just mindwipe the entire crowd and destroy everyone’s footage. There wasn’t an easy way to fix this.
He wasn’t even sure if it was something that could be fixed.
Protecting the magical world was one of the main things he was supposed to do, and he’d failed spectacularly.
The Dragon Council would take his powers away after this for sure, and Haley would be stuck with the responsibilities of the American Dragon whether or not she was ready, and—
And he didn’t know what the Dragon Council would do to his friends.
Or to everyone else who’d seen proof of magical creatures and now believed in them.
He’d never been told what happened when a dragon messed up this badly. He wasn’t even sure if anyone else ever had. All he knew was that, if he couldn’t fix this and the Dragon Council had to step in, the measures would be…extreme. It made his gut twist just thinking about it. If he couldn’t figure out how to contain this and it kept spiralling out of control—
He had to figure out how to fix this.
He had to.
For everyone else’s sake, not just his own.
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aweebwrites · 4 years
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Move on Dragons Ch27
The day was a rare one. Everyone was present just outside the Bounty, the elders, their dragon selves, the ninja, Morro and the twins all present. A massive space was being taken up by the dark dragon elder who was flat on his back, taking in the sunny day. The temperatures were rather warm for winter due to the location but they were still noticeably low, lower still at the top of the tower. So with no immediate need for them, all nine dragons came down to soak up some sun. Wu was more reserved, laying on his stomach with Morro tucked into his side, their eyes closed in a light doze while his brother was determined to get as much sun as possible.
And well, his adopted sons were weak to such an opportunity. Which was why he had Lloydie and Kai at his sides, on his wings on their backs as well but they kept their wings closed so they could press against his sides, both dragons purring in content as Lloyd laid sprawled out on the massive black dragon’s head, one of his famous Horns of Destruction pressing against his side and preventing him from falling off. The rest of the dragons were piled together with the rest of the ninja team in various positions on their bodies, Shard blowing snowflakes to keep the energy filled twins busy, chasing the shimmering white carvings of ice as they fell, chirping and roaring in glee as they hit their scales as cool water drops.
All and all, it was a good day. A great one even. No-one had thought much of the approaching sound of quick wing beats, as the dragons liked to race across the sky. That was, until-
‘Elders! Elders help!’ Garmadad was on his feet in seconds, his large wings curling around both of his larger sons and the upward tilt of his snout he kept being the only things keeping his sons from flying off him.
Both he and Wu who were now on their feet looked to where the metal dragon was flying in fast, almost crash landing in her rush.
‘Silver. What has happened?’ Wu asked the silver coloured dragon as she panted heavily.
‘Torch!’ She huffed out before drawing in a deep breath. ‘We were through the forests close to the city and we got separated! When I found her, she was- she sleeping in some strange looking bushes along with a lot of other creatures but she wouldn’t wake up! I tried getting to her but when I tried to get closer, I started feeling sleepy! I figured that must have been what happened to Torch so I didn’t get any closer- so I tried calling out to her instead but she won’t wake up! No matter how loudly I call her nor how much I throw rocks!’ She told them woefully and the brothers were immediately troubled by this.
‘I’ve read of this world’s flora and one comes to mind.’ Wu says to his brother as the others gathered around, curious about the commotion.
‘Their Charming Flowers.’ Garmadad agrees, puzzling over how they could save their fallen dragon. ‘We must go. Perhaps my powers will be able to destroy the plants.’ He says, turning to Wu.
‘Do not be quick to rely on your destructive powers brother. You have yet to hone them. It is too great of a risk.’ Wu admonishes and Garmadad grumbles but he knew that was true.
There hasn’t been a moment to tame these abilities of his, what with all that happened after the fight against the Oni of their world.
‘We can’t sit around here and do nothing though.’ Lloydie protests, walking up to his father and uncle, Kai by his side.
‘Yeah. It’s obvious if we don’t wake them up somehow then they’ll stay asleep forever.’ Kai rumbled, looking up at the two.
“We have to get to the location to gauge the situation.” Zane pointed out. “My database tells me those who fall asleep under the flower’s influence will not wake so we are running out of time. We don’t know if removing Torch from the flowers will have her wake up naturally or if we need to do more to wake her up afterwards. Point is, we have a little less than three days to wake her up before she passes from dehydration.” He told them, watching the horrified looks that crossed the dragon’s face, save for Silver who didn’t understand human language.
“Then we haven’t a moment to spare.” Wu says, spreading his wing. ‘Silver, take us to the location.’ He requests and she nodded, flying off, both brothers taking off as well.
“We’ll follow with the Bounty.” Pixal says as she climbed up the ladder to the ship’s deck.
“You guys go. I’ll stay back at the tower. With both Uncle and my dad gone, someone has to keep an eye on things here.” Lloydie told the others.
“I’ll stay too. Two eyes are better than one.” Morro says as he walked over and Lloyd nodded, watching as the rest flew off as well.
“We’ll look after these two too.” Lloyd says, walking over to where Nix and Rux were looking at them in confusion but were cautious enough with the sudden change in atmosphere to stick close to Cole.
“Are you sure? I can stay if you need.” Cole offered.
“Yes, we’re sure. Our fathers will need your help. We may have been here for some time but this world is not ours. We are unused to it still.” Morro told them before he leaned down and picked Rux up by the back of his neck, the latter tucking his feet and wings close as he did.
“Go on. We’ll wait for you to get back.” Lloyd told them, doing the same to Nix before they spread their wings and flew off, back to the tower.
“We better hurry.” Nya says and they quickly spread their wings and flew up to the ship as Pixal began taking off.
____ The trip to the Forest of Tranquility was a short one, the group catching up with the dragons just at the outskirts of the forest. Already they faced a problem. As large as the Forest of Tranquility and its trees were, the elders were finding it impossible to fly through the thicket of trees, their bodies too large. Luckily, they could track Silver from above and fit through the trees by walking with their wings close.
‘She’s over there.’ Silver pointed out with her snout to the orange-red dragon fast asleep amidst a large bed of Charming flowers, animals and even people asleep around her. ‘I left this log here so I remember not to go any further.’ She rumbled, nudging said log blocking the path ahead.
“This is the largest gathering of Charming Flowers ever recorded.” Pixal says as she and the others came over as well. “They’re known to sprout in groups but this is several times larger than their standard patches.” She told them with a frown.
“But signs show that volcanic ash from the Temple of Fire seemed to have blown this way and greatly enriched the soil…” Zane murmured, scanning the faint patches of gray on the ground. “That combined with their abnormal grouping must have strengthened the flower’s influence.” He murmured in thought then lifted his head.
“Nevertheless, Pixal and I should be able to cut and kill the plants so everyone else can get to her.” He says as he turned to the elders who nodded.
“Be careful however. While we are unfamiliar with this world still, we are familiar with the magic that runs untamed in this world… And those plants have a lot of it.” Garmadad told them and they nodded before walking forward, Zane pulling out a kunai to cut the plants if needed while Pixal prepared her in arm saw.
They walked around the log, Zane leading the way- before he froze just two steps ahead, the wings he hadn’t bothered putting away flaring open wide to stop Pixal.
“Zane, what’s-”
“We can’t get to the plants.” Zane interrupted Cole’s call of concern.
“I’m afraid Zane is correct.” Pixal says as they backed away from the plants, Pixal holding her head. “The plant’s magic seems to be able to work on us as well. My sleep protocol was being activated on it’s own.” She told them as they retreated safely behind the log.
“Then-! How are we gonna save Torch and those other animals?!” Jay sputtered.
“We have to think.” Shard spoke up, sitting on his haunches to place a curled paw under his chin while the other supported his arm- a very human pose. “None of us can get close enough to the plants without falling under their influence but we still need to get close enough to destroy the plants. And I suppose none of you have any tools or means to reach from a distance?” He asked, looking to the ninja.
“Sadly, no.” Nya told them. “They’re way too far out for any tools we have and even if we did have something that long, it’ll be easier said than done moving it around through the trees, not to mention the fact that it would be time consuming. That and the weight of it would also become a problem.” She explained.
“Kai and I could try burning them but we aren’t certain if those other creatures are even alive.” Blaze says with a frown, glancing across at his doppelganger next to him.
“That and we’d cause a massive forest fire and endanger a lot of people.” Kai pointed out.
“Ice won’t be very helpful. We’d only end up freezing everyone and in order to get anyone out, we need to break the ice around them- and the plants will be in that ice around them.” Zane ruled out.
“Water’s a no go here too. There’s nothing we can do that wouldn’t risk Silver drowning.” Mist says and Nya nodded her agreement.
“Lightning’s a bust too. We’d either start a forest fire or electrocute Silver.” Jay shrugged, Wisp nodding his agreement.
“Earth won’t be able to do much either. We might crush someone- or worse.” Rocky spoke up and Cole nodded his agreement as well.
“My energy won’t do much. My powers kind of evolved out of shields.” Lloyd reported with a shake of his head, beady red eyes watching them from his hair.
“... Perhaps I could create a means to remove the flowers- or at the very least, it’s captors. But what?” Wu questioned in thought.
“That’s what we have to figure out, and soon.” Garmadad rumbled then draped a wing low, over Silver’s back as she watched Torch with pain in her eyes. ‘We will free her.’ He promised her, intent on keeping his word and she looked up at him hopefully before she nodded and looked back to her partner.
________
Thinking of something was easy. Thinking of something effective- and something that would actually work? Not so much. But this? This was their best idea yet. A means of transport that was air tight, that was small enough to get by the large trees with ease while having tools and equipment to extract and remove the flowers from the area. They had no time to build it manually so they took an emergency visit to Borg Tower for some supplied Cyrus gladly offered to them while eyeing the winged ninja curiously, and returned to the forest.
“Ok. Let’s do this.” Cole says, cracking his knuckles as all six of them stood around the pile of parts and equipment.
“Right.” Kai nodded in his more humane form before he activated his Spinjitzu, the others doing so shortly after before they began to converge, the dragons watching them as they did to create the Tornado of Creation.
In seconds, the parts and tools they sucked in became a small four wheeled vehicle with a glass capping at the top for easy viewing.
“Alright, I’ll go and see how fast we can cut this puppy down.” Nya says as she walked towards it, opening the glass hatch to slide inside.
“Be careful sis.” Kai told her, watching as she situated herself with the controls.
“Don’t worry, I will.” She reassured, flashing him a grin before she slid the hatch back into place and started it up.
The group watched hopefully as she drove ahead, passing the log and slowly driving closer. They watched with breaths held as she inched closer- then deflated once she came to a stop, reversing almost immediately after.
“The plant’s magic is too strong.” Garmadad rumbled, clearly as displeased as the rest of them.
Night was already falling and they just took a step back from any chances of rescuing Torch.
“Any chance of you guys having magic dragons?” Jay asked dryly, flopping down to sit with a frown on his face.
“Magic isn’t an element.” Shard pointed out.
“And metal is?” Jay pointed out with an arched brow. “Uh, no offense.” He added, looking to Silver who wasn’t even paying attention, being unable to understand them as she was.
“So sayeth the master of lightning.” Garmadad says dryly and Jay looked up at him insulted to have two Garmadons having used that quip on him now as Cole laughed.
“Snap, he got you again!” He chuckled and Jay stuck his tongue out at him.
Cole’s amusement didn’t last long though, watching the others help Nya out. No-one could get close without the threat of falling prey as well. He couldn’t help but think that he could have rescued Torch ages ago… If he was still a ghost.
______
Attempts came and went, all failing, all falling short. They were running out of time. It’s been roughly two days since they’ve arrived and they were all growing desperate. Nothing Wu created could help, nothing they thought of would work and Silver had tried twice already to throw herself into harm's way. They understood. She was watching her partner die right in front of her and they could do nothing to help. They had a few hours at best. They had to think of something. Had to keep trying. Cole was helpless to watch as his friends spent hours trying to solve this, running on as little as no sleep to just a few hours since they arrived.
The solution was simple yet so out of grasp. They needed an entity that wouldn’t be swayed by sleep magic, an entity that didn’t need to sleep. They needed a ghost. A ghost that could become solid at will, a ghost that would destroy and remove the plants so they could work on waking Torch up. He glanced at the rest of the team as they pitched ideas back and forth in the bridge, looking a bit worse for wear then headed down on the deck, finding the dragons in a similar huddle. If only he was a ghost still. Then, he could have saved them all the trouble.
He gave a dry huff then looked to the sky. He never thought there’d be a day where he actually wanted to be a ghost. Cole blinked then, a frown tugging his lips downwards as he felt his hands starting to go… Numb, the feeling spreading all over. He stepped back from the railings, bewildered as his sense of bodily awareness went… Mute. The last time he felt like this he was- Cole’s head snapped up as he gasped, realising what was happening now. No way… Was he actually… The low green glow that washed over him confirmed it as he watched himself becoming more transparent. This was almost exactly what they needed! He just needed to make himself solid! But could he even control it? He didn’t know how…
He thought back to all the times he did become solid. How did he do it? He didn’t put a lot of thought into it, he knows. When he had strong, positive emotions, he became solid in their room that first time. Afterwards, he wanted to do something that required him to be solid and when he went to do it, he just was. That made him think. It surely was worth the try.
“Wh- Cole?! Why are you a ghost again?!” Kai yelled down at him and Cole shot him a grin.
“We’ll figure that out later! Right now, I have a dragon to save!” Cole yelled back before he floated up to the bridge and towards the weapons closet as the others exclaimed behind him.
He flexed his fingers before he reached out for the handle, grinning once he became solid to grip it then opened it.
“It’s been a while.” He says fondly, pulling out his scythe and looked it over. “Time to kill a plant.” He grinned before he headed out the others following after him.
“Wait! We don’t know how the plant affects ghosts! This is magic, remember?!” Zane called after him.
“Sleeping magic. Ghosts don’t need to sleep so I should be good.” Cole dismissed, hopping over the railings.
“Should?!” Jay sputtered as they hopped over too. “Should isn’t secure enough! You’re somehow a ghost right now Cole! If you fall asleep, you might sink into the planet! How will we save you then?!” He yelled, jogging to catch up.
“That won’t happen though.” Cole shrugged, striding forward with purpose still.
“You don’t know that for sure!” Pixal protests.
“Well, we’re about to find out anyway.” Cole grinned, hopping over the log before charging forward with a run.
He just hopes this thing really doesn’t affect him… He was closing the distance between him and the slumbering dragon quickly, already reaching much farther than any of their attempts did. It was working! He’s so close! He swung his scythe back as he approached the massive bed of plants with their circular flowers hung low and immediately began slicing into them from the root, careful to not hurt the large dragon sleeping there.
“Oh my gosh! He’s actually doing it!” Jay grinned from a safe distance.
“But there’s a problem.” Zane warns, his eyes glowing brighter as he used his zoom feature to get a better look. “Torch is sleeping on a large amount of the flowers. In order to make the area safe enough for us to approach, he needs to get rid of 85% of the plants- 50% of which is located under Torch.” He told them and the team pondered on what to do.
“If only my powers were better honed. I coil destroy the plants without the need to move Torch.” Garmadad says with visible frustration and Wu lifted his head, getting an idea.
He sat on his haunches, bringing his front paws together and focusing his energy there, gaining Garmadad’s attention.
“You have an idea?” He asked his brother who only nods once, focusing.
The smokey gold orb of light focused, taking the shape of two circles. When the light finally vanished, there were two gold rings in his paws, confusing everyone.
"What are those supposed to do?" Wisp asked curiously as Wu gestured for Garm to lower his head.
“They are meant to focus and better control my brother’s powers so he may use them without worry they may go awry.” Wu explained as he slipped them onto his older brother’s prominent horns of destruction, the bands stopping mid way.
“Of course! The solution is so obvious now!” Blaze yelled as he face-winged.
“Now is as good as a time as ever to test how well they work.” Garmadad says, rolling his wings before gathering his destructive powers, the black/purple energy gathering between his horns and flickering lightly over his body. “Stand aside Cole.” He called and Cole’s head jolted up at his voice before he quickly backed up out of the way.
He shot a streamlined blast of his destructive energy ahead, keeping his intentions on destroying the flowers- and to his amazement, it impacted- and immediately began turning all the Charming Flowers in the large gathering of it to ash. Seeing the cursed flowers that threatened to take her partner away from her finally starting to fade to ash, Silver couldn’t stay away another moment. She charged ahead for the third time- this time breaking away successfully as the group hadn’t expected her to suddenly take off. The air didn’t have that warm, hazy air to it anymore and it only pushed her to run faster.
‘Torch! Torch wake up!’ She roared as she finally crossed the space between them, nudging her insistently. ‘Come on Torch! This isn’t the time to nap!’ She insists, tugging at her wing with her snout.
“The others?” Garm asked Cole in a low tone once he and the others walked over, the rest focusing on Torch.
Cole sighed as he stood from where a middle aged man laid and shook his head.
“Just Torch.” He told him and Garmadon gave a mournful nod.
“We will give them all a proper burial.” He told him and Cole nodded then turned to where Wu had immediately began instructing Mist to feed Torch some water, holding her head at a certain angle to avoid water in her lungs.
‘Why isn’t she waking up?’ Silver asked the white scaled elder with watery eyes, keeping close to her partner.
‘It might be the plant’s effect taking some time to leave her body.’ Wu told her. ‘But the sooner she awakens, the better. Perhaps this will help...’ He added, taking out a very small- by his standards- bag attached to a rope and passed it by her nose.
Torch jolted awake then on her feet and bewildered.
‘Huh? What?’ She asked, blinking quickly a few times before she lifted a paw to rub her eyes. ‘What happened?’ She asked then froze when she caught sight of Silver as tears slid down her scales.
‘Silver?’ Torch whispered softly, brushing her wing against the side of her face.
‘Torch… You…’ Silver’s voice wavered. ‘You… You idiot!’ The group startles once Silver smacked Torch over the head with a suddenly solid metal wing.
‘Ow!’
‘I told you to be careful flying in here! You almost died!’ Silver yelled at her as Torch rubbed her throbbing head, pouting.
“Well. Looks like Torch is alright. Save for a nasty bump on the head I’m sure she’ll have.” Wisp says dryly as Silver continued to scold Torch.
“But what about you, Cole? How did you become a ghost again?” Lloyd asked, looking towards their friendly ninja ghost.
“I’m not too sure to be honest. I mean, this time I actually wanted to be a ghost since ghosts don’t sleep and I could have cut those weeds to size. But I guess I didn’t consider the parts Torch was laying on.” He shrugged then looked at his hand. “I’d love to be human again though.” He mumbled then had a feeling of sudden heaviness- and he was!
“Woah!”
“You can become a ghost at will now?” Blaze asked, looking him over curiously as Cole flexed his fingers.
“Looks like it.” He grinned up at him and his friends. “Now this, I can get used to.” He says, flicking back and forth between ghost and human once more to test it.
“We’ll have to get used to that later.” Pixal told them, Zane agreeing.
“It appears that the plant’s magical energy has been keeping them perfectly preserved. But now that it’s gone…” Zane trailed off, looking towards the people and animals that still looked peacefully asleep.
“Right. Let’s put them to rest.” Cole whispered softly.
______
They returned back to the Labyrinth once the short burial was over and a check of the entire forest was done to eradicate large blooms of the Charming Flowers and those that managed to lull victims into their beds, they headed back to the Labyrinth. Torch and Silver were immediately greeted by friends once they arrived, all glad that they were both safe and laughing at the visible bump on Torch’s head.
“Welcome back. I’m glad you guys managed to save her.” Lloydie says as he and Morro greeted them, purring happily under their fathers’ greeting nuzzles.
“It was not an easy feat but it was one of opportunities.” Wu murmured, nuzzling Morro, the smaller dragon tilting up for more.
“You’ve both done well looking after the dragons in our absence. You will both be great leaders one day.” Garmadad praised them both.
“Nix! I missed you too!” Jay laughed as Nix tackled him over, nuzzling him fervently as he gave happy chirps and coos.
“Were you good for Morro and Lloyd?” Kai asked Rux as he stroked his head Cole holding him up in his arms.
Rux only gave them large eyes and a coo both ninja immediately took as a no.
“Of course.” Cole huffed at him.
“Well, another successful mission. It was touch and go but hey! Cole’s leveled up on powers!” Kai grinned, patting Cole on his back.
“Again.” Pixal added, recalling his lava arms.
“Honestly, after becoming a ghost twice in a pretty traumatic way, I think he deserves it.” Nya shrugged and the others had to agree.
“Now if only we could hear a word from Sensei Wu…”
_____________ (Loooong chapter update, yes but only because I'm taking the next 5 days to finish up a fic for Loving Cryptor Day on the 25th. I doubt it'll take that long to finish but It will actually be a pretty long fic so I'll take these five days just in case. After wards- or on the same day- I'll post the start of the finale and get down into business to wrap things up! That aside I really liked the idea of Cole also getting to keep his ghost powers so yea! Downside is that water in that form can still kill him so He won't always be keen to using it. Next chapter will begin with a time skip! Thanks for reading!)
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sunevial · 4 years
Note
:3, Brethil and Rea meet each other. The world needs to see
I’m going to fight you one of these days.
---------
“Right over here, Miss Archdruid,” the scout said, pulling down his hood and pointing to a bit of the tree line that lead up to the coast. Despite it being the middle of autumn, the leaves looked more like their spring counterparts, vibrant green and full of budding flowers. The grass underfoot was lush and green, no traces of fallen leaves or dead underbrush to be found.
Ever so carefully, Brethil reached out a hand and touched the bark. “When you said the plants were 'becoming younger’, I thought that was exaggerated,” she said, looking back to the scout and frowning. Even without opening her senses to look for magic, it was clear that something powerful was seeping into the very land, something that was going to be hard to reverse. She knew that putting the planes back in order would yield some odd results, but this... “Anything else especially out of place?”
“A cliff collapsed a day or two ago, there’s been a notable increase in the seal population,” he replied with a small shrug, looking hesitantly at the forest. Those of the Gilded Grove were no stranger to otherworldly magic and planar influences, but this was something far outside the pay grade of a simple scout. “Do you want me to grab the rangers or...?”
“Not yet,” she said, shaking her head and tapping a tree with her staff. “I’ll take a look around first and see just how much has been effected. I’d rather...not send people in unprepared.”
The scout nodded, backing up to the path and leaning against a normal autumn tree. “Call if you need anything...not that I’d be...much help against something that could impede a druid of your capabiliti...I’m going to stop talking now.”
Chuckling under her breath, she took a deep breath and stepped into the affected woods. The plants were easiest to see, well out of season despite the shortening days and cooling temperatures. Before long, rabbits bounded along, shedding their winter coats, and baby birds chirped high in the trees. Besides everything being jarringly out of season, however, nothing felt overtly wrong about what was happening. There was none of the obvious signs of fiends or evil fey, nothing that was outwardly celestial, nothing that was clearly a sign of planar influence.
This was all...natural somehow.
She heard the seals long before she saw them, the playful barking and splashing coming from a secluded cove. Alongside it, however, was a voice, powerful and yet surprisingly light in tone. Cheerful, possibly female. “Well don’t do that, you’re going to get hurt flopping like that, oh yes the water is a little too salty here for you, eugh, I know, there’s not enough sun here at all,” she said, bouncing between what sounded like about seven or eight different conversations with utterly no one at all. “I’m glad you’re back in your proper home, all that shifting must’ve been scary, oh hi lady elf!”
Blinking once, then twice, Brethil stepped out of the trees to look down at the cove. Amongst the largest gathering of harbor seals she had seen in a century, an impossibly large dragon sat in the water, looking up at her with eyes darker than the spaces between the stars. Most of her body was beneath the waves, but willowy-branched wings rested on top of the water. Her scales looked as if they were crafted from wood, and instead of horns, great antlers rested on her head.
Well, she knew one thing for certain. She had never seen, heard, or read about a creature like this in her three hundred and fifty-one years of being on the Material Plane.
Wonderful.
“Um, hello there,” she said, walking to the edge of the cliff and keeping her staff close in hand. “I’m not...interrupting anything, am I?”
“Oh no, not all all!” she replied, raising her head up to get a better look as a couple of seals jumped over her back. “I’m just playing with all of my new friends. They have such interesting stories to tell of the world being all twisty and broken.”
“I would imagine, the seas must have been quite jarring to swim through,” Brethil said, relaxing ever so slightly. Seals tended to be decent judges of character, and their chatter was lighthearted and playful. Not outwardly evil, then, or at least not intentionally doing anything. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, who are you? I’ve never really seen a dragon like your kind before.”
The dragon giggled, bringing her snout even closer to the cliff’s edge. “I’m Rea, and I’m Restoration,” she said with the closest equivalent to a smile that could be put on a draconic face. Her eyes flickered back to the seals for a moment. “Yes, yes, I’ll be back in a second, calm down, you’re all so jumpy.”
“I’m Brethil, the Archdruid of these lands,” she replied with a smile of her own, now even more sure she had no idea who this dragon was or what that title even meant. Regardless, she was clearly a powerful force, and if there was anything that could intrinsically change the landscape, it was a dragon. “You wouldn’t by chance know why the plants are looking out of season, would you?”
Rea tilted her head upwards a little, eyeing the trees with wider eyes. “Ohhhhh that’s why they’ve been talking weird lately, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was still that strong, I can fix that for you if it’s too much of a problem.”
Still rather confused on what was even going on, Brethil gave a small nod, figuring it was best not to challenge something that looked bigger than Malira the Winged Winter, or at least, not do that alone. “I would appreciate that, yes. It has been raising some questions, especially with winter coming so soon.”
“Gotcha, no problem, druid lady Brethil,” she said with bright eyes, sinking back down into the surf. “Did you want to play too? If you’re a druid, you can turn into all kinds of stuff, just like me! We could go swimming together with everyone.” She turned to the seals. “Is she a good swimmer when she’s a seal? Really? No way that’s awesome.”
Sighing, Brethil took a seat on the edge of the cliff and swung her legs out. “Well, that depends. What exactly are you?”
“I’m the Dragon of Restoration, of course,” she replied with a smile. “Come on, just for a bit, please?”
She sighed. Whatever this was about to be, she had a feeling it was a bit outside her jurisdiction as the Archdruid, but if it was a way to get information on her, so be it. “Mind helping me down?”
Before she had time to think, a gentle pair of claws lifted her from the rock face and splashed her into the rapidly cooling autumn sea waters. Several dozen eyes turned to her with expectant eyes.
Swimming with a dragon the size of a small hill and a legion of seals. 
Still beat being trapped in a snow globe.
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airanke · 5 years
Note
20. “Always yours, always mine.” - For Volita! :3
Vol’jin x Amita20. “Always yours, always mine.”
Vol’jin had dragged himself through the years. He was as hollow as he felt. Relinquished his hold on the title of warchief because it was too much to bear. Stepped down from his position as chieftain and given the role to Rokhan, opting instead to disappear.
This must have been how Amita felt when she had received the news of his death in Pandaria, but unlike then, this was real. She was gone. No amount of praying or hoping or dreaming or begging was going to bring her back. There was no bargain Vol’jin could offer any of the Loa that would be enticing enough; no bargain that wouldn’t result in one of them being left behind.
Vol’jin wandered. He crossed paths with Jaina during the many Legion assaults, and for a time, they kept each other company. Found comfort in each other’s pain. Found solace in their shared suffering. Both had lost their midnight sky. Both were still alive because of her. The roots Amita had laid still stood strong on the Broken Shore, coiled around the portal spires, breaking them apart.
He was hard-pressed to leave her, but Jaina insisted that she needed more time alone, and Vol’jin only agreed when she whispered, “and you need more time to grieve. You loved her so much. You look– lost without her.”
To which he had replied, voice choked, “she was a lamp unto my feet.”
The two parted. Vol’jin wandered once again, taking the most comfort in Val’sharah. The winding trees, and druidic presence kept him from missing her so.
But the Nightmare clung to him like sweat. It feasted on his pain, revelled in his grief, and once Ysera was slain, Vol’jin had no choice but to leave, and he drifted once more. Illidan was restored. The heroes trekked to Argus itself. The Legion was defeated.
Not too soon after the return home, tensions between the Horde and the Alliance rose again. Vol’jin caught winds of the plans for Teldrassil, and was there evacuating civilians under the guise of a worgen not long after. As lost as he felt without the moon to guide him, he couldn’t give up on his life.
Amita would never forgive him for that if he did.
He had practiced his disguise voodoo until even Rommath could not tell that the new blood guard in their ranks was Vol’jin himself.
Teldrassil’s burning left him weeping.
‘This is my fault.’
He followed Rokhan, and Thalyssra to Stormwind to ensure they made it out safely.
‘This is my fault.’
He stowed himself away on the boat to Zandalar, always keeping himself just out of sight, refusing to reveal himself when Talanji’s Loa informed her that a powerful shadow hunter lurked in the darkness. She had called out to him. He merely shrunk back further.
Once again, he wandered. He explored Vol’dun, helping wayward heroes where he could, regardless of their faction. He avoided Bwonsamdi like the plague in Nazmir, forfeiting sleep in favor of not having the angered Loa descend upon him in his dreams. Avoiding the Loa of Death in his waking hours was difficult enough.
Vol’jin was there when Rezan fell.
And he was there when the Zandalari discovered new worshippers in their midst. They had descended on Dazar’alor in a fervor. Two had morphed into dragons, fending off Mythrax tooth and claw alongside the Loa themselves, and their efforts were not in vain. Even if the huge being had managed to destroy the third seal, Mythrax fell.
Others still tended to the fallen, and when Talanji and Rastakhan attempted to have some questioned, they disappeared as silently as they had arrived.
“Please, Vol’jin, if there be anyone who can be finding a new Loa, it be you.”
“… what makes you be saying that, Rokhan?” Vol’jin inquired, running a whetstone along the length of his glaive.
“Because I know you. Don’t go thinking that ol’ Rokhan doesn’t know you’ve already been asking around,” Rokhan offered Vol’jin a lopsided smile when the red haired troll finally looked up at him.
For a while longer, Vol’jin was silent. He’d been asking around, yes. The best information he had gotten was from the trolls in Zeb’ahari. They’d come across the temple before, hidden away in the mountainside, beneath a massive waterfall - at least, part of it was. The water cascaded from the top of the mountain, to the roof of the temple, and over the sides - or so they claimed.
They had also claimed that there were already guards stationed there, dressed in luxurious silks, brandishing glaives and scythes with dragon motifs. Their armor included more dragon motifs, along with floral ones.
Particularly the peony.
It had taken every ounce of Vol’jin’s self control not to run blind into the mountains to try and find this hidden temple himself.
But, he had refrained.
“They say the Loa is called Mother of Triumph, or Bringer of Forgiveness,” Vol’jin found himself saying, and he tried to hide the shake in his hand by continuing to sharpen his blade, “or Loa of the Exploited and Overburdened, or Loa of the Purposeless…”
Rokhan scrutinized Vol’jin as he trailed off, and soon prompted, “or…?”
“Moon Dancer.”
It sounded so strange rolling of his tongue. Moon Dancer. Moon Dancer.
The shadow hunter would be a liar if he claimed that he had not made an attempt to try and contact this new Loa the very evening he returned to his quarters in Dazar’alor.
He had been terrified, and right as he had felt the familiar pricks of a more powerful being trying to make a connection, he panicked. Opened his eyes. Sat upright, and once again, refused to sleep.
“Vol’jin…” Rokhan’s voice was filled with trepidation. Vol’jin shook his head.
“Go find it.”
“I–”
“At my behest, as chieftain of the Darkspear,” Rokhan interrupted. Vol’jin knew that twinkle in the older man’s eyes. The hope. The eagerness;
“Go find the temple.”
The trek was arduous. One of the witch doctors in Zeb’ahari had told Vol’jin that she had anticipated his return, and gave him far too specific of directions for this new Loa to be some kind of hoax. Along the way, Vol’jin encountered Zul fanatics.
Apparently they too were looking for this new Loa. Vol’jin had barely managed to avoid detection by a patrol group, and he listened in on their conversation.
“Relatively new.”
“Should be weak, easy to corrupt.”
“Easy to break.”
“Has already amassed an impressive following; her worshippers should not be trifled with. We’ve already lost two scouting parties to the ones that call themselves Dreadnoughts. The dragons.”
“Did you hear? One of them is truly a dragon, from the blacks.”
“I heard there were others. One from the greens, and one from the blues.”
Vol’jin opted to sneak past the camp that evening. Engaging them, he felt, would be foolish. He was too exhausted by his self-induced insomnia, and they were all sleeping soundly.
Unfortunately for Vol’jin, just when he had found what looked to be a hidden path - as described by the witch doctor - the fanatics caught up with him.
For a moment, the lone shadow hunter and the group of trolls stared at each other. Vol’jin was too distracted by his discovery to be immediately aware of the danger he was in, and the group was too shocked at his presence to make any attack.
They recognized him.
Vol’jin, of course, was uninterested in combat. He bolted up the narrow pathway instead, holding onto his swift serpent form as long as he could.
Arrows pelted the ground around him, and one went through his arm when he was forced back into his troll form. The path went on. He dropped his serpent totem, and paused only long enough to send off a few arrows of his own. One Zandalari he felled with a powerful blast of lightning magic - and then he was on his way again, weaving left and right, ducking into the jungle, trying to lose them.
He found his way back to the path, sliding under a broadsword. Vol’jin glowered at the troll that had swung the weapon - but instead of doing anything, Vol’jin continued on his way along the path. It twisted and curved, and the further along he went, the darker it became.
And now, as Vol’jin continued to evade arrows and other attacks, he could hear the distinct roar of a waterfall.
He faltered.
Arrows pierced his flesh. Vol’jin stumbled forward, barely feeling the pain.
Wind and gravel kicked up around him, and the shouts of the trolls pursuing him turned to cries of fear.
Obvious dragon feet wrapped around Vol’jin’s torso, and whisked him away, while another released a ferocious battle cry that clung to the leaves. Vol’jin was deposited gently onto the ground right in front of what looked to be the temple entrance. He stared at it, noting all the flowering bushes - roses, and peonies, specifically.
Not plants that normally grew in the lush jungles of Zuldazar.
The sounds of a swift battle was lost in the deafening roar of the waterfall.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the dragon-esque being that had been carved of stone, undulating atop the temple roof. Moss, and star flowers covered much of the rock that made up the entrance - both varieties of star flower, Vol’jin noted.
A Kul Tiran human and Zandalari stood guard at the entrance, their armor radiant golds and silvers and oranges and pinks. Further in, Vol’jin could make out a dark doorway, and such a variety of races that he wasn’t even sure he could name them all in his current state of mind.
One individual was approaching swiftly. Vol’jin stared at him blearily, then leaned forward, eyes narrowed as a dragon flew over his head. Naturally, the dragon shifted to their mortal form and–
Vol’jin had thought that the fanatics were rumor mongering when they had said one of the followers was a black.
This many had the tell tale signs. Bright red eyes. Black scales. His armor reminded Vol’jin of Pandaria. Mystical dragons coiled around his arms, fading in and out. The mortal form he chose was a dark skinned blood elf - or perhaps Vol’jin should say high elf.
“Vol’jin!”
The other man that had been approaching, the shadow hunter found he recognized, “Zelun’jin. Never though’ ya could be making all dem colahs work.”
The younger troll scowled at him, then proceeded to begin breaking the points off the arrows that had gone through Vol’jin.
“What brings you here?”
Vol’jin narrowed his eyes at the black dragon, choosing not to answer, if only because growls escaped him as Zelun’jin worked to remove all of the arrows.
“Odaniar,” the black dragon continued, unperturbed, “Dreadnought of the Moon Dancer. What do you seek - what sent you to us?”
Vol’jin rose to his feet, shrugging off Zel. The other followers seemed content with letting Odaniar deal with this newcomer - either that, or they knew better than to come between a black and their prey.
‘Which I certainly consider myself to be. Can never trust a black,’ and Vol’jin shook his head, “I be here at de behest o’ de Darkspear chieftain.”
“Is that not you?”
Vol’jin flinched, “no.”
Another obvious dragonkin came up alongside Odaniar - but her scales were blue, and her horns were more prominent. She gazed at Vol’jin with worry in her eyes, “you are seeking. You would not have come here for any other reason.”
“I be directed.”
“Asking directions is a requirement when one seeks what would rather not be found,” Odaniar said. His bright eyes were pinched inward, “you are missing something.”
“You be seeming ta know a lot about me,” Vol’jin snarled, frustrated, “so I’d be appreciating it if you stopped beating around the damn bush, Odaniar.”
Odaniar exchanged looks with the blue next to him.
Finally, he spoke;
“You are the sun.”
Vol’jin felt his heart drop into his stomach. He was sure the shock was written all over his face.
“And the moon has been missing from your sky.”
Moss dressed the dark halls. Starlit roses decorated the path, offering guidance to those that walked. Odaniar had moved, and Vol’jin had followed.
Small lights hung, high and low, throughout the final chamber Vol’jin had been led to. Of course Odaniar had pointed out various other paths: “this hall leads to the followers chambers, above and below us”, “this one leads to the kitchens”, “this one leads to the herb gardens outside, and that one leads to the alchemy stations”, “the room we left was for worship and offerings, I should have informed you of that sooner”.
But this chamber. Vol’jin was afraid to look around. All the lights looked like stars suspended in a sky of moss. He recognized many of the species of trees as the ones from Suramar, and despite being so deep in the mountain side, the chamber was warm. Water trickled from somewhere, into a pool.
Vol’jin would have sought the pool, but the figure lying on a bed of flowers before him demanded all of his attention.
The Loa sat up.
She smiled lovingly at him.
“Hello, sunshine.”
Hot tears streamed down Vol’jin’s face. He sunk to his knees, heaving broken sobs into his hands. Her hands were soft when they came to cover his.
“Leave us,” Amita’s voice was gentle.
There was so much Vol’jin wanted to say, but he couldn’t find his voice. Footfalls went further and further away, and Amita pulled Vol’jin’s hands from his face.
“Ami–” he began, but she silenced him with her lips.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his mouth, “I wanted to tell you, I was so excited when you be tryin’ to reach me that one evenin’. What be scarin’ you?”
“That it might be true,” he admitted, “that it - this might actually be you.”
“It be me, sunshine,” Amita purred, nuzzling her nose against his. She pulled him to her bed of flowers, and Vol’jin couldn’t stop a short laugh from escaping him. As she had at her home in the Barrens - the place he now called home, refusing to let anything happen to what Amita had worked so hard on - Amita had pillows and cushions and blankets to lie on.
“I want you,” she groaned, tangling her legs with his. Vol’jin slid his hands under her sheer, iridescent top. He’d hardly given himself the time to admire what Amita was wearing, and though she giggled at him and his eager hands, she grasped his wrists and brought one hand to her face.
“Not here, bal’a; not in my temple. If I be requirin’ it of my followers, then I best be an example.”
Vol’jin had to chuckle.
“You be dedicated.”
“I be.”
“Have the… other Loa been giving you troubles?”
“Rezan be advisin’ that I be focusin’ on buildin’ my temple first. As I be mentionin’, I be wantin’ to see you. The moment I be findin’ out I be a Loa, I wanted to test how far I could be goin’, but after the events of the Broken Shore, I be too new to be leavin’ Zuldazar.”
“So you be here this whole time?”
“This whole time,” her eyes danced like the stars in the night sky, “make me your Loa, Vol’jin. Be mine; be my champion.”
Vol’jin’s mind swam, “you be asking much of me, Moon Dancer.”
Amita beamed, unrelenting, “be my night warrior.”
His eyes widened at this, “a night warrior? But that–”
She pressed a finger to his lips, eyes glimmering with mischief, mouth pulled up in a smirk.
“Who do you think made me a Loa? Or did you forget, Vol’jin of the Darkspear, that I be a druid, and that we all shared a goddess?”
Vol’jin inclined his head to Amita’s shoulder. She carded her fingers through his hair.
“Vol’jin.”
“Hm?”
“I am always yours,” she ran the back of her nails along his cheek, “and you are always mine.”
“Always,” Vol’jin agreed, wrapping his arms around her waist, “but when can I be having you?”
“Whenever you want,” she shifted against him, pressing her lips to his forehead, “I be needin’ to make my presence known in Dazar’alor. I be strong enough now.”
“I suppose being your champion also be meaning I’m your speaker?” he questioned, and Amita shook her head.
“No, that be for Landrida - she be a green. You be brought here by my black, and blue - Odaniar, and Ulriegosa. Landrida presents herself as a Zandalari. She be with new worshippers.”
“I have so much I be wanting to ask you.”
“I have all the time in the world to be givin’ you answers, heaven.”
Vol’jin pressed his face harder against Amita’s neck, “I believe you be heaven, moonlight.”
“Ahh, there it be,” she purred, running her fingers through Vol’jin’s hair once again, “and if I be heaven, you be earth - but, you will always be my heaven, Vol’jin.”
She pushed him onto his back, and laid on top of him, “tomorrow, we go to Dazar’alor. I be takin’ my place among the other Loa, and if Bwonsamdi wants you, he has to fight me.”
“Amita, I don’t be thinking that be wise.”
“It be okay. I’ll just be eatin’ him,” she grinned when Vol’jin laughed.
“Tomorrow.”
“I can–”
“Time for the sun to rest, Vol’jin. Sleep. I will be keepin’ you safe.”
(( I also borrowed @lolygagger ’s bby Zelun’jin for this to make a brief appearance. ))
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scripttorture · 5 years
Text
Torture in Fiction: The Dragon Prince
The Dragon Prince is a wonderfully written and beautifully animated cartoon. I don’t usually take on a whole series but I was interested in the pitch and have fond memories of Avatar: The Last Airbender. I was curious to see what the creators had come up with since.
And overall I really enjoyed it. The characters are engaging and the plot is an interesting twist on a lot of typical fantasy tropes. (It also helped that this is the first time I’ve seen an animated character sign.)
The review contains spoilers for the entire season (1) of this cartoon.
After humans started using dark magic, magic drawn from destroying naturally magical creatures, an alliance of elves and dragons drove them to the western side of the continent. In the war that follows humans killed the dragon king and destroyed his egg.
Years later a group of elves sneak into the human kingdom, determined to assassinate the king and his son in revenge. Rayla, the youngest of the assassins, discovers that the egg is intact and alive. With the human princes, Ezran and Callum, she sets out to return the egg, the titular Dragon Prince, to his home.
But once again I’m rating the depiction and use of torture, not the story itself. I’m trying to take into account realism (regardless of fantasy or sci fi elements), presence of any apologist arguments, stereotypes and the narrative treatment of victims and torturers.
Which means I’m not focusing on the main characters or their plot line here. Instead this review is going to focus mostly on three side characters: Runaan, the leader of the elven assassins who kills the human king, Viren, a dark mage and the king’s advisor who takes over the country on the king’s death and Gren a guardsman loyal to Ezran and Callum’s Aunt.
Viren chooses to have Runaan kept alive and imprisons him in a stone cell. He’s chained in a seated position with his hands raised above his head. Viren attempts to bribe and threaten Runaan into revealing information about a magical artifact. Runaan refuses and in retaliation Viren casts a spell imprisoning Runaan’s essence in a coin.
As Viren tries to consolidate power he clashes with the princes’ aunt, a military commander who insists the boys are alive and should be searched for. Viren manipulates her into returning to the front lines but not before she leaves Gren in charge of searching for the missing princes.
Viren has Gren imprisoned. He’s chained in a standing position with his hands kept level with his head.
I’m giving it 2/10
The Good
1) Torture and the threat of torture is used in the context of interrogation but the story shows it failing. Runaan rejects every request for information Viren makes. He also rejects every 'olive branch' Viren extends.
2) Torture isn’t shown changing or even mildly influencing Runaan’s strongly held beliefs. If anything the story shows Runaan’s anti-human stance becoming more entrenched in response to torture.
3) Viren’s motivation for imprisoning and torturing both Runaan and Gren is quite in keeping with reality. Runaan is an enemy soldier. Gren is loyal to the old regime that Viren is actively trying to replace. This makes both of them political enemies, treated as threats to the new regime’s security. That’s incredibly true to life.
4) The timing of Viren’s bribes also felt like a good point to me. Runaan is captured and abused and then Viren attempts to bribe him into cooperation. First he uses food and drink, then he uses the offer of freedom. I don’t know whether it was intentional or not but I liked this element because it supports the notion of Runaan’s opposition becoming firmer as he’s mistreated.
5) I enjoyed Viren’s general characterisation throughout this and the way he justifies his actions. He presents himself as a ‘pragmatist’. He says he’s willing to make the ‘tough choices’ for the good of others and the Kingdom. That’s the kind of torture apologia torturers often parrot.
6) And that view doesn’t go unchallenged in the story. Other characters point out that Viren’s actions mostly benefit himself. His cruelty and his so-called ‘pragmatic’ lack of morals are presented as causing bigger problems than they solve. Together it creates a really good, succinct and understandable portrait of a torturer. It shows him parroting typical torture apologia and it shows why those views are wrong.
The Bad
Both Runaan and Gren should be dead several times over.
The portrayal of stress positions here is frankly appalling. It's difficult to be exactly sure about the passage of time in the story but Runaan is kept with his hands chained above his head for at least a week. Gren is kept standing for days.
Stress positions kill after about 48 hours.
In this case, neither character is depicting as suffering due to the way they're restrained.
Runaan is shown suffering but this is visually and narrative linked to other things. He's bruised because he was beaten when he was captured. His arm is withering due to a curse. He's weak because he's refusing to eat and drink (which should also have killed him, however I’m willing to give that more leeway in a non-human character). But the stress position he's kept in isn't depicted as fundamentally harmful.
This is more or less repeated with Gren. He isn't shown refusing food or drink and he wasn't beaten when captured. His posture in his chains is relaxed. He shows no signs of pain or discomfort. He leans against the wall and whistles. His movement, colouration, coherency and memory all seem to be completely unaffected.
Stress positions are incredibly harmful. They are painful. They cause wide scale break down of muscles in the victim’s body. This initially leads to a build up of fluid in the extremities. Which causes painful, discoloured swelling in the limbs, sometimes to the point that the skin ruptures into blisters. As more muscles are destroyed the protein released into the bloodstream becomes too much for the kidneys to handle and they fail. One description I read described the kidney’s being turned into ‘swiss cheese’.
The result is a protracted, painful death that can occur a significant period of time after the victim is released from the stress position.
The fact that it’s a stress position singled out as a ‘harmless’ torture is extremely significant here.
This is a torture that generally doesn’t leave lasting marks. It’s a torture that’s common in the modern world. And we unfortunately live in a world where torture trials often hinge on the presence or absence of ‘physical proof’.
Scars.
Survivors are regularly dismissed and belittled because they were tortured in ways that didn’t leave obvious marks on their skin. Because their torturers used techniques like stress positions.
Showing these tortures as harmless backs up the societal view that these tortures don’t ‘count’. That the pain these victims experienced was not real and they don’t deserve our help or compassion.
It backs up the notion that these particular victims are to blame for what they suffered.
These aren’t obscure philosophical notions or debates. These tropes, these patterns, these arguments affect our treatment of torture and torture survivors now.
They are part of the social structures that deny torture survivors asylum. They are part of the reason it takes survivors an average of ten years to access specialist treatment.
Presenting these apologist views uncritically to young children isn’t neutral either.
Because even without taking into account parental blockers on internet searches accurate information on torture is incredibly difficult to find. Any curious viewer, of any age, who watches these scenes and searches for more information would come across more torture apologia long before they find research on torture.
Especially as they may not even link what they saw to torture.
A casual viewer would first need to make that link. Then be aware of the term ‘stress position’. Then be aware of the academic journals or niche authors who publish on these topics. And then have access to enough money to pay for those sources.
Some of the sources are not available in translation.
The result is that the overwhelming majority of viewers are likely to accept what they see: that stress positions cause no harm.
These details are small. They don’t get a lot of screen time. They’re unimportant to the plot.
But they are not neutral. They matter.
The way the different ideas at play here interact matters. As does their impact on the real world.
And as a result, despite many good points in the portrayal of torture, I feel like I have to give The Dragon Prince a low score.
Overall
Part of the reason I wanted to review this was to highlight how prevalent torture is in children’s media and how cartoons are often sending out the same misinformation as adult action movies.
The Dragon Prince doesn’t suggest that torture works and it doesn’t justify brutality. But at the same time it’s downplaying the damage torture causes by treating some tortures as essentially harmless. It’s telling that the tortures singled out this way are clean tortures common in the modern day.
The tortures that victims are commonly subject to now, the ones that don’t leave lasting marks, are the ones being singled out as harmless. As not ‘proper’ torture.
The message that only some tortures and only some victims ‘count’ starts young. And the sad thing is the people creating this, writing it and drawing it probably had no idea they were portraying torture when they chose to have characters chained to the wall.
The background knowledge most people have on torture is poor, made up of apologist tropes and rumours and misinformation. But it is so widely accepted that it probably doesn't even occur to most creators to fact-check what they write.
And the result in this case is a wonderfully made cartoon, which includes fantastic representation of disability, of racial diversity and women. While parroting tropes about torture that are actively harmful to victims.
Edit: If creators are not prepared to show the effects of torture then they should not use torture. If those effects are unsuitable for a children’s show then I’m left wondering why they included torture.
Personally, given the level of research these particular creators lavished on other areas, I suspect this was ignorance not malice. 
Disclaimer
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mischiefs-hawk · 6 years
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Newt’s despair
In the aftermath of battle, there are always the bodies of those who didn’t survive. Newt Scamander had served in the Great War, he’d seen enough battle fields to recognize it when he saw one. He’d had to develop the skills to deal with the sadness and the despair and having to move on from it. 
But this? This was no battlefield. It was just slaughter. 
Through one of his old friends who Newt had served with, the Magizoologist had found out about a plan by the Soviets to “clean up” a group of Ukrainian Ironbellys- specifically, Newt’s Ironbellys. 
If he’d asked Theseus what to do, his ministry brother would have advised him to go through all the proper legal channels before entering the U.S.S.R. Instead, Newt decided to just go in, get his dragons, and leave. The Soviets wouldn’t even know Newt was there until it was too late. 
He had even found a place to release the dragons. While Romania was not the perfect place for Ukrainian dragons, it was a Reserve specifically for dragons. The witches and wizards who ran it were a small group but the had been more then willing to get Newt’s advice. They were good people. 
He had no doubt they would protect his babies. 
The Hufflepuff did not realize he had come too late until he arrived on the scene. Littered across the massive field were the deceased bodies of all of Newt’s dragons. The earth was crushed and valleyed around their bodies, obvious signs they had crushed into the field below. Light grey smoke danced off their bodies into the air, releasing a repugnant smell. 
The killing curse did not cause bodies to smoke- not even dragons. 
When he arrived, Newt saw three soviet wizards- presumably the ones responsible for this. 
Never in his life had Newt felt such anger, such pure exquisite rage. 
These dragons were Newt’s. He’d brought Suzanna’s mate here, he’d helped many of their eggs hatch. He’d even helped little Jules when she hatched a little too early from the rest of her egg-mates. 
Little Jules loved him, and Newt adored her. Now, all of them- Suzanna, Jules, Martin, Erin, Freya, Daniel and May- lay dead. Simply for being- just for being the magnificent creatures they were. 
The three soviets shouted something at him, their wands drawn.
Never in his life had Newt drawn his wand so quickly or deftly. Pointing at the one he assumed was the leader, Newt shouted a curse he never thought he’d use in his life. 
“Crucio!”
Immediately the man fell, screaming in pain that echoed off the nearby mountains and valleys. It bounced off the deceased dragon’s scales, magnifying the sound but it could not reach Newt’s heart. 
When the other two tried to stop Newt, the Magizoologist waved his other hand- pulling their wands out of their grasp and into the woods. He didn’t even realize he’d used wandless magic. 
Forcing the other two on their knees- rather like Grindelwald-as-Graves had months ago in New York, Newt extended the Cruciatus curse to all three of them. Approaching them, Newt did not notice or seem to hear the pop of someone apparating to the forest. The Soviets screams became whimpers as their pain increased exponentially. 
“How dare you? How dare you harm these creatures just for being?”
One of them, in very broken English, tried to say they were just following orders. 
It was the wrong thing to say. 
“So the destruction of an entire flock is acceptable if a Superior officer gives the order? You three are dirt! Worse then!”
With power and control Newt never realized he had, the Magizoologist levitated the men high above the ground before slamming them back down. 
Newt didn’t know if he killed them or just paralyzed the, but he didn’t care. Finally, he released the crucio, Newt fell to his knees. 
He did not feel regret or remorse for what he did- only an immense sadness that he hadn’t been here to stop it. 
What kind of government did this? Had the Ministry done things like this and Theseus just hadn’t told him? Did MACUSA do it?
The possibilities were too horrifying to contemplate. 
This extraordinary use of magic drained Newt to the degree that he was barely clinging to consciousness when a voice behind him spoke. 
“Well done, Mr. Scamander- I didn’t think you had it in you.” 
The voice was familiar, but the redhead couldn’t place it. Attempting to stand and turn, he stumbled back and fell onto his back. His head hitting the ground. 
The last thing he saw was the fuzzy image of a blonde haired man striding toward him. 
-
Watching the small and meek Magizoologist torture and kill three men had been exciting to say the very least, in more ways then one. 
Gellert really didn’t think the brit had it in him to do this kind of thing, but here they were. He was surrounded by several dead dragons, three dead Russians, and an unconscious Magizoologist. 
When he had heard about the dragon massacre, Gellert decided it would be the perfect trap for Newton. He could not let Newton interfere with his plans again, like he had in New York. 
Turns out, he was right. Scamander had come. It seemed, though, both of them had been too late to stop the killing. Gellert didn’t particularly care about the dragons, but Newton did. Therefore, he would stop them. As erotic as it had been to watch Newt torture those men, seeing him so distraught was not. 
Easily picking up the thin man, Gellert wondered how much darkness was in Newton. Just how powerful was Scamander, if he could tame a Thunderbird and crucio three men at once?
Regardless, he’d already decided. He would keep Newton, he was simply too interesting to ignore. 
Noting that the infamous case wasn’t there, Gellert kissed Newton’s forehead. He’d send Vinda to go get it, wherever it was. Probably with the American muggle Newt liked so much. 
As he apparated both of them away, Gellert couldn’t but grin. It cost Newton a bit of his heart for Gellert to claim him but the Dark Lord was certain in the end it would all be worth it. He’d give Newt a 100 dragons if it made him smile again. 
He’d do anything for his beloved Magizoologist. 
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xanth-the-wizard · 6 years
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Random Town Encounters (1d100)
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The complete list of my Town Encounters #1-5! Vote for the next set of Random Encounters HERE. (Image Credit: x)
[1] An enormous bear stumbles around town wearing human clothing. They’re attempting to order drinks at the local tavern, but so far they haven’t had much luck [2] You arrive early morning into a quiet little village. Unfortunately nobody is around to greet you because they have all been turned into candy [3] A festival is taking place in the center of town. They seem to be celebrating a historical figure that looks oddly similar to someone in the party [4] Dashing through the streets, a bandit has stolen a powerful magic artifact. Anyone they pass by are turned to stone. A hefty reward will be given to anyone who can catch them [5] Hm? In your back pocket there’s a piece of paper with directions to somewhere in town. If asked about the location, nobody seems to know where it is [6] While walking through the streets a child runs into the party at full speed, falling to the ground. They apologize profusely as they begin to collect their dropped goods. This includes a baby dragon [7] Rumor: The guards in this town are not human, they never sleep. Most people speculate they are from another realm [8] Enticing smells fill the air, there seems to be a cooking competition in town. And it looks like it’s not too late to sign up. Anybody know how to make a killer quiche? [9] Rumor: Beneath the city lies an ancient tunnel leading to a thief’s lost treasure. But everyone is too afraid to look for themselves. When prompted on what is down there, people dance around the question [10] Sentient vegetables rebel against the local chef. At first glance it seems to be a harmless prank, but anyone bit by the veggies begin morphing into vicious vegetables themselves [11] Magic is outlawed in this district of town. Anyone who casts any spell begins to glow [12] Little ducklings follow behind the party, quacking merrily. They are perfectly harmless but without their mother. Did somebody order 8 new beautiful children? [13] Ghosts have driven out the living from the town leaving behind a literal Ghost Town. The Ghosts are actually quite friendly, too friendly [14] Rumor: Grandma Crabapple, a sweet old lady who lives alone in her cottage up on the hill is actually a Doppelganger. Looks like we’re going to have to eat her famous cherry pie and get to the bottom of this mystery [15] The local tavern has been recently reconstructed, a group of rowdy adventurers burned it down a few months back. The locals don’t take kindly to any adventurers now [16] Every year in spring a nearby lake floods, threatening the village’s safety. But every year the cobblestone wall surrounding them keeps them safe. But this year, something goes horribly wrong. And it’s probably one of your player’s fault [17] Rumor: The local school is teaching children to summon demons and worship the devil [18] Rotten tomatoes fly as an Orc Bard attempts to perform in the streets for gold [19] A potion brewer has set up shop in town, they have an extra special brew that grants anyone who drinks it invisibility. But the effect happens randomly and without warning [20] Perched upon a crumbling building, a gargantuan bird watches the town silently. The villagers claim that wishing upon one of the bird’s feathers can grant a wish. Unfortunately the bird doesn’t shed very often and doesn’t like to be bothered [21] Rumor: The alcohol in the bar is watered down with a substitute that creates intense cravings for more alcohol [22] Transcending space and time, you cat appears. They are to scale with your figurines and demand your attention [23] Goblins have invaded! Oh, looks like they’re just selling baked goods at reasonable prices. You win this time Goblins… [24] The water wells have frozen over unexpectedly. A sentient ice elemental is passing through [25] You have entered into a town created with sand and dirt, there is a lone tower in the center. A wizard has created their own town by controlling local ants. The wizard smells really bad [26] A real life celebrity has a look-alike in your campaign, and they are the bartender at a small tavern with dreams of being famous [27] A Magic Shop is selling the most illegitimate looking magic items you’ve ever seen. But for some reason people are flooding to their stand and buying all of their merch. Do they not realize? [28] Rumor: In this small farming town, the Scarecrows are said to awaken at night looking to exchange bodies with anyone who loses to them at their game. The game is hopscotch [29] You’ve been handed a flyer for a local religious group. It seems they worship an Insect god. Surely they are up to no good! Oooh, look! They have a buffet! [30] A horse cart race is under way, are you in? [31] Out of the sewers, four turtles emerge. They have varying magical mutations. One can turn invisible, another has super speed, the remaining turtle’s powers are unknown. They are causing quite a ruckus in town [32] Rumor: Eerie whistling is heard by the graveyard every night. The townspeople believe it is a restless spirit [33]  Tap dancing frogs, followed by synchronized flying ravens appear. A local swamp witch is accomplishing her dream. She expects applause and tips, or else [34] A group of local teens are attempting to fundraise a dangerous project. They promise that it will revolutionize the world [35] Rumor: The leader of this town is actually a dozen frogs in a trenchcoat [36] You are given a free lotion sample at a stand. The lotion has strange side effects including but not limited to, sprouting wings [37] A villager appears to the party, they are an obvious caricature of your favorite video game character [38] Servants of a local noble rebel. They are protesting outside the castle [39] There is a college within the town that holds forgotten history. It’s a favorite among the world’s most powerful magicians. Surely you’ll meet someone interesting inside? [40] Many clues lead you to believe that there are witches hiding in the city. The truth is, the entire town is a coven, everyone is a witch. Can you trust this coven? [41] There is a flea-market in town with hundreds of vendors selling everything from valuable artisan goods to worthless junk. If you’re lucky you may find a neglected magic item for sale [42] A thieves guild takeover is currently underway and somehow you’ve managed to get involved [43] An earthquake ravages the city, within the rubble ancient prophetic texts are discovered [44] Rumor: Beneath the meat shop there is an illegal underground fighting ring. What will you do? Stop it from getting out of hand, make some bets, or sign up as a fighter yourself? [45] Riots in the streets spark as an unjust ruler is appointed into a position of great power [46] Taco Bell is real and Baja Blast is now canon [47] Rumor: An unknown infant Monster is roaming the streets. It is incredibly dangerous and there is a bounty for its capture. People believe it is a Basilisk [48] Twin scientists advertise around town for their Monster business. They buy and sell monster parts and some interesting Monster related goods [49] The town drunk happens to know a lot of interesting/important information but nobody seems to be listening [50] The world’s first train operates within this bustling city. While visiting a catastrophic event occurs involving a busted engine [51] Rumor: Pranksters have animated the children’s toys and stuffed animals at the local General Store causing some traumatic memories for the local kids. People believe the culprits are the store owners themselves. But how true is this claim? [52] Rumor: The abandoned castle on the hill is full of tremendous treasure and wealth. But so far nobody has discovered where it is hidden [53] Local crime lord strolls around town with their new love interest. Everyone is afraid of this criminal but do nothing to stop them from taking advantage of their town [54] An industrialized revolution is happening! Lots of unique goods and services are all over the city. But this massive urban development comes with a steep cost. Nature spirits are planning an attack on the city for invading their homeland [55] You are in a town blessed by nature. Colorful fauna is everywhere and on every building. It is a beautiful culmination of nature and society. They also grow rare and exotic crops [56] Yup. It finally happened. The most chaotic member of the party has a bounty. Good luck [57] This town is inhabited entirely by avian beings. They are friendly, but most places are inaccessible if you can’t fly [58] A local Barber is willing to give your party’s pet a cool new haircut. What’s that? They have no hair you say? No problem! Stylish wigs are also an option [59] “Welcome! Tonight is the big game! The Bardic and Wizarding colleges are going to face off! Be sure to buy your tickets now!” [60] Zelda-esque mini games are all over the place! Smash pots, hit some targets, win some rupees! [61] A town of sentient horses. An equestrian experience nobody will forget [62] Stone guardians have become animated and are rampaging through the town. First we must stop the guardians. Second we have to figure out who did this [63] Rumor: Buildings are falling apart as bricks and stones are disappearing randomly. Some believe the bricks are alive. It’s the curse of the Were-Bricks! [64] A special promotion for a local tavern is given to anyone who can catch and dispose of the rats from their basement. Problem is, these rats aren’t just simple street rats [65] Did somebody say, Shopping montage? A trendy fashion store has opened up, it’s the perfect to accessorize! Maybe some new outfits for the next campaign arc? [66] Just put your players in the town of Whiterun from Skyrim. Perfect [67] And while I’m talking Skyrim, instead of stealing Whiterun. Instead you should just quote the Skyrim NPC’s constantly. “Let me guess… someone stole your sweetroll.” [68] Rumor: A mad scientist has created life, but the being has escaped and stalks the dark alleyways [69] A bird delivers an important letter to a member of the party… That or it’s a 25% off coupon for a local Costume store [70] The circus is in town! But something’s not quite right. The attendants of the shows can never recall what happens during the performances but are always dying to go back [71] A knock off group of Fantasy Avengers appear and take credit for the party’s heroic deeds. They do this multiple times throughout the campaign. I’d suggest settling this debacle once and for all in battle! [72] “Welcome! Have you checked out our main attraction? It’s our pride and joy! People come from all over the world to catch a glimpse of this spectacle!” Examples: House made entirely out of food. A skyscraper that can reach space. A wishing well that supposedly grants one word wishes. A captivating glowing orb of pure hatred and hellfire [73] Rumor: During a full moon a store opens up for business selling strange artifacts. Rumors also suggest the owner of this business is the Devil himself [74] Giant Snail races are being hosted tonight, care to make a wager? [75] Rumor: The local fortune teller has been warning the village of some ominous futures. Surely this is just a ploy to snag some extra profit? [76] A carnival you say? Introduce a bunch of sleazy carnies to con your party into massive debt. A debt so large that it can only be repaid with even sleazier side quests [77] A FUN carnival you say? Let your players participate in some fun games to show off their strengths and clever skills (AKA cheating) [78] Local orphans take a liking to your party, they are very sweet [79] Roll initiative! A mugger has attacked- Oh! False alarm. It’s only a knife salesman [80] A bored god appears within the city demanding the town’s finest ales and to battle an honorable adversary [81] The local Odditorium* is an enticing tourist trap that is offering a questionable new promotion (Think, The Mystery Shack from Gravity Falls or Ripley’s Believe It or Not!) [82] The most unlikely individual offers the party an assassin job. Unfortunately, this job is wacky and requires dressing up like members of a circus [83] A blessing! Local flower shop gifts a player a lucky daffodil. Good fortune and prosperity is in their future [84] A curse! One of your players has been struck with a curse of familiarity. In every town you enter someone will swear they look just like someone else and mistake them for said person [85] Rumor: There’s a rumor going around about your party. A bad one. Nobody trusts you [86] It is migrating season for Unicorns and this town is in the middle of their migration path. Despite their beauty, these Unicorns are dangerous and untrusting [87] The entire town is riddled with traps and wires, be careful where you step [88] As your party travels through the town, one member of the party seems to be teleported to another realm. In reality they haven’t moved at all. Stranger things have happened I’m sure. It’s probably nothing (It’s definitely something) [89] Rumor: A man known as the Master of Riddles lives in town. He will reward anyone for solving his riddles. But the rewards are unlike anything anyone’s ever seen [90] Taxidermied animals rampage through the streets, a Necromancer is to blame [91] Your reoccurring “Big Bad Villain” just happens to be in town. They don’t immediately recognize the party and seem to be doing some pretty domestic stuff. Is this their hometown or is this just a pit stop in their travels? [92] This river settlement is quite large. They have just begun developing this area, most buildings are still being constructed. The tavern, inn and a few shops are open. Trouble looms in the distance as a large beast’s home is directly below [93] Local pants thieves begin messing with the party and it is hilarious [94] Rumor: Inside the oldest building in town there is an ancient door that is said to lead to the heavens. Nobody has ever been able to open the door, not even with magic. The key’s location is an unsolved mystery. Some say the key is buried somewhere nearby [95] Rumor: Local inventor claims to have created a machine that can fly and is willing to pay anyone to give it a test run [96] Dozens of missing person and lost item posters are all around the town (For an extra twist, one of the missing people is someone in the party) [97] In the center of town lies a guild of mice adventurers. They protect this town and make sure all outsiders are trustworthy [98] Take all the snacks and drinks you and your players brought to today’s session and create a boss fight out of it! It emerges from the earth with little to no warning [99] A group of teens run around the city role playing their favorite book characters. Unfortunately these characters are swashbuckling looters. Time to put these kids in time out [100] A traveling merchant sells odd wooden closets, drawers, and chests. When opened, these objects lead to portals between dimensions. Suddenly, one of the closets tip over and the doors swing open
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jonsameta · 6 years
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I have a Question about Jon's resurrection. Someone in my personal Space, things that Jon will die after the War of the Dawn, he thinks he was brought back by the Lord of Light because he has a Role/a purpose to fulfill. After Beric's and Jon's dialog in Season 7 he is even more sure about that. He thinks Jon's only Purpose is to defeat the second long Night and the Nightsking. After he succeeded he will die. I think he has some good points, what do you guys think?
Hi there!
I can’t speak for everyone because we all have different opinions on a number of things, including this matter. Some may agree with your friend because that’s a pretty popular theory. Others may disagree on some technicalities but still agree that Jon will die because this is a story where “anyone can die” and having died once he’s living on borrowed time. Then there are those, who believe Jon will survive (albeit very damaged, probably uglier), not merely because they want him to but because he has a lot of post-war purpose and his resurrection may have a purpose different from being a prophecised hero. I’m the third kind of person.
My reasons for believing he will survive probably make more sense when thinking of GRRM’s writing style in the books and what he’s attempting to do with this story in terms of genre conventions, rulership and Jon as a character. Despite the show diverging from the books in ways they have to meet at some point, as GRRM has stated and it’s quite likely we might never get the last book. It’s not about what I want, but what the story needs.
@thewesterwoman has written on this matter by drawing comparisons with Aragorn from LOTR and the history of the War of Roses and Henry Tudor as hidden heirs. She and @kitten1618x have elaborated on the War of Roses connection here. A very crucial point Martin keeps bringing up in the series and in interviews is that ruling is hard and has very little to do with whether a person is good or not. He raises the question of “What was Aragorn’s tax policy?” as a way of conveying his series wants to explore that. 
“As I’ve said before, my basic reading of Martin’s work is that ASOIAF is a deconstruction of fantasy tropes that will be ultimately followed by a reconstruction. Martin isn’t writing in order to utterly disprove the foundations of all fantasy stories - he’s a realist, not a nihilist. What he’s doing, instead, is showing his readers ‘how the sausage gets made.’ He has taken the most classic tropes of high fantasy and demonstrated how they would really play out in a world where logic and consequences apply.” - @thewesterwoman
While not obvious on the show recently, bookwise Jon is the best suited character for this beyond just his secret parentage. He gets training of how to deal with daily governance during his time at the Night’s Watch under Joer Mormont and Maester Aemon and Maester Luwin as his mentors, aside from observing Ned’s hearings before he joined the Watch. Jon learns to follow from more constructive people before he can lead. This is something that Dany doesn’t learn because the very mentors she had were pretty toxic.
People might say “Well, there’s Tyrion”, but bookwise, Tyrion is just too Tywin-like in being Lannister name oriented and being vengeful to an unfair scale. While Tyrion is misjudged for his appearance, it’s not to say he’s really a nice person. He has a singer killed and his tongue cut out and served in broth served in Flea Bottom for trying to use the fact that he is with Shae to take part in a singers’ completion. He is wrongfully accused of trying to attack Bran and humiliated in Lysa’s court, but he doesn’t just want revenge from her court, he wants to burn down the whole Vale. He gets especially dark in ADWD. Bookwise, Tywin’s legacy starts falling apart after he dies not because he was the cleverest of them all, but because he ruled through fear and corruption. Meanwhile Ned is dead but because of his legacy of ruling through love people are still willing to risk their lives for Ned’s children. Ruling through Tywin’s methods has short term gain, but Ned’s has longterm gain. Tyrion himself has a pretty bad reputation of being a kinslayer of both Joffrey and Tywin, which is amplified by the fact that he is a dwarf and the smallfolk have no love for him especially after he tried to burn their settlements at the shore to prepare for the Battle of Blackwater. A ruler who is hated will have a very disrupted rule. That’s not the note the story should end on.
Then others could suggest “Well, there’s Sansa and Arya” and yes, they do have something more positive to contribute to the reconstruction of Westeros. But again, they don’t have the training to answer “What was Aragorn’s tax policy?” Sansa has been observing and learning how to play the courtly game, especially under Littlefinger’s tutelage, and she knows how to handle a household now, but again she’s still very sheltered and kept away from truly learning local governance because Littlefinger wants it to be that way so she is dependent on him. The only way she will learn any of this is if/when she escapes and gets to Jon. The fact that Jon is a radical thinker matters too. He might need people to cover for him, try to talk him out of a moment of hotheadedness, and try to sell his ideas to lords who will not buy it easily but this is important. Sansa’s understanding of the conservative approach would be able to shield him, but she needs him just as much.
Arya does have a journey that broadly has similarities with Aegon V, who travelled around Westeros as Dunk’s squire under disguise and learns more about the smallfolk, she doesn’t get the training to rule or even how to deal with courtly politics, where it isn’t about taking people down but coexisting with them and trying to win them over. Aegon V had a lot of problems during his rule despite his exposure to smallfolk because he didn’t know how to convince the lords or reach a good compromise. I’m afraid Arya is in a similar position right now and the only person she can get this kind of training would be through Jon, who received it under the Watch. So while Arya is a radical thinker and someone who could potentially be a force for change, right now she doesn’t have the means and honestly, she isn’t even in the correct emotional state because of the PTSD of war, loss and living on the streets. She needs to recuperate.
So when you step back and think about it, Jon is needed for more than being some prophecised hero during the War for Dawn. Jon’s king foreshadowing in the books is undeniable and while some may think it’s too predictable, I think thinking about GRRM’s style here becomes more important. GRRM constantly nitpicks on the historical realism that fantasy brushes over. How a princess wouldn’t have run away with a stable boy in medieval times, even if she ran away with someone else. How class difference mattered and had a heavy hand on how people behaved and violating it had violent repercussions, whether someone was right or not. So in making Jon king and showing him to be effective ultimately despite his failures would be showing “how the sausage is made”. His secret parentage doesn’t make him worthy of being a king. It’s the training he’s got. It’s what Varys wishes f!Aegon could be like, but neither is he an independent thinker nor does he try to check his privilege like Jon learns soon enough in the Night’s Watch that he did have a privileged (if not perfect) life of a bastard. All the details that casual readers find extraneous and what the show brushes over are important to the author.
Now apart from that a phrase often repeated in the books by Mormont’s raven is “Corn King” and this has a lot of mythological allusions as well as a sign of how Jon is associated with providing food to his subjects in dire circumstances. The Corn King sacrifices himself during winter for a better harvest the next year, and incidentally Jon dies around the beginning of winter and will be resurrected soon. This has been discussed on westeros.org and other places. So in terms of mystical mythology there is that connection with seasons, just as Sansa has her subtle nods to Persephone in her arc.
Then, of course, one would wonder how his death cannot have consequences. I do believe they will, just not in the way people think. Perhaps the most fundamental theories for me is that Jon is not a prophecy child as @trinuviel has written a number of metas on how AA reborn could be a destroyer rather than a saviour, and how Dany still fits the criteria most (1, 2, 3). Tolkien also pulled this kind of prophecy twist in the Hobbit. Also the whole promised hero with a magical sword who is coming back to reclaim the kingdom is so Arthurian legend. I think Martin would think more than this mystical aura of some messiah, that ruler needs to know how to rule. Who would be the hero then? I don’t know Bran, the overlooked crippled boy who has magical powers from trees and the COTF. The Long Night was fought before without dragons or Targaryens and the same is possible again. Bran seems to have a lot in common with Bran the Builder, who built the wall with the COTF’s help and the Lost Hero, who went seeking out the COTF. 
Aragorn did not have the most important role in the fantasy battle even with the secret parentage reveal. That was Frodo’s role. Even Simon Snowlock, the secret prince who doesn’t know his parentage, from Tad William’s Memory, Sorrow, Thorn that Martin was inspired by, didn’t write Simon having a large role in the fantasy battle compared to his parentage giving him legitimacy to become king. I don’t know why GRRM would suddenly decide Jon, who burnt his sword hand, which failed him from saving himself in ADWD will become this all powerful prophecy hero who will sacrifice himself and die. 
Bookwise Beric died when he tried to resurrect Catelyn and she became Lady Stoneheart and when they do come back, they come back different, more damaged and the same would be for Jon, except he might not be a firewight because he warged into Ghost before dying. He will probably come back more wolfish, drained and probably it will mess with his memories a bit. shinynewrevulsions and lady-in-a-song have talked about how towards the end of the story Jon might lose an eye, which might be part of the cost of living among other things, like burning a portion of his face and his hair greying faster, like Jaime and Theon. I’ve discussed before how the show might’ve watered down what Martin wanted to explore with this resurrection, kind of like Buffy’s resurrection that left her apathetic, disconnected and resentful of her friends for bringing her back. The opposite of Gandalf coming back the same or having improved. The fact that GRRM takes issue with Gandalf coming back improved makes me more inclined to think bringing him back so he can be a prophecy hero kind of fits that. It’s trite. 
Showwise, I think a key point is that Jon wants to and expects to die in this war. He doesn’t expect to come out of this alive and every choice he makes is factoring that in. So Jon’s expectations and the audience’s expectations aren’t different. It’s not shocking to expect him to die. Not that it would be shocking for him to live, but again, a lot of it comes down to thinking about if GRRM hated Gandalf and Wonderman’s resurrections so much, why did he do it? The point that everyone focuses on is GRRM saying “Gandalf should’ve stayed dead”, but not the other points. 
And then in the next book, he shows up again, and it was six months between the American publications of those books, which seemed like a million years to me. So all that time I thought Gandalf was dead, and now he’s back and now he’s Gandalf the White. And, ehh, he’s more or less the same as always, except he’s more powerful. It always felt a little bit like a cheat to me. And as I got older and considered it more, it also seemed to me that death doesn’t make you more powerful. That’s, in some ways, me talking to Tolkien in the dialogue, saying, “Yeah, if someone comes back from being dead, especially if they suffer a violent, traumatic death, they’re not going to come back as nice as ever.” - GRRM
First of all, the way Gandalf came back, it was as a deus ex machina to make the heroes lives easier, and if Jon came back to be a prophecy hero to make the heroes lives easier he would be functioning as a deus ex machina so blatantly because he died and this is meant to be his sole purpose. His death is anti climactic for this very reason. This is exactly what people think Bran’s purpose is as well as the basis of the Jon/Dany/Tyrion “three dragon heads” sacrificing themselves to save the world theory, which again is overlooking how the author approaches genre conventions and converses with them. There’s not much “conflict in the human heart” here because everyone is just willing to die to fulfil some predestined purpose. If Jon hadn’t already died, this would feel much more poignant.
After the resurrection, show wise Jon keeps wondering why he was brought back? He wants an answer as to what the purpose was because he’d rather just be dead. Throughout the story Jon is ready to die since he joined the Watch; I’d rather try to see him trying to live, even when it’s too hard. Perhaps, this great predetermined purpose does not exist. If he ends up surviving the war, Jon would be lost as to what his purpose is meant to be. He’ll have to find one. It could be that his secret parentage reveal might just be about politics and trying to reconstruct the kingdom after it has fallen to war, famine and nuclear disaster.
Overall, Jon has far more purpose in the story than being an action hero with a sword. People think he’s doomed to die fulfilling this and thus will never become king, but his story just as far more meaning the other way around. His resurrection could serve as another red herring to confuse the audience about who AA is when they should be asking “what” AA reborn is. 
But again, this is my take on things. Others have different takes. 
~ Anya
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shardclan · 6 years
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Under the great obsidian disc was an air of keen agitation that was so potent it was almost a solid object. Though it was unclear just what the source was, locals gave it wide berth.
Even Lutia stood in the outer rings of the columns, glaring out into the light of day with raised hackles. Constant unease was a struggle she had dealt with ever since returning from the Circle with Apokathisto. She was the Steward of the Seat, and that was certainly safe, but the stones that comprised the Circle were the power source. It might take an Age, but eventually the Seat would run dry of its power without them.
(And if she was honest, it irked her a little that the young guardian had formed some sort of connection with the Circle that even she was not fully privy to.)
None of that was what bothered her now. This was the kind of irate foreboding that she usually only experienced when Crucis had tampered with something he really shouldn't have. But it wasn't Crucis. It didn't feel like him, didn't smell like him. And the unfamiliarity of it only set her on edge more.
Apokathisto was either very brave or very desperate to have approached her.
"Something you need, Imperator?" 
“Invigilavi,” he corrected numbly. He had heard that word spoken with scorn many times since the paper announced it. At this point, it was all he could do to just direct his clan mates to his new name instead of drawing attention to his eventual title.
“Lavi it is,” the Archmage said distractedly. “Can I help you?”
He awkwardly joined her under the disc. His shape was still new to him and he couldn't change or remove the glamour. No one else in Aphaster barring transient mercenaries took such half-beast shapes. Yet he still had his characteristic air of reticence, despite a standing several heads taller than Lutia and having significantly more bulk.
"I would like to confide in you," he began. "If you don't mind."
Lutia gawked. No one had confided much of anything in her in eons. "Do I really seem the appropriate choice for that? You have the Gale Wolf for a mother!"
His face pinched. "It's because she's my mother that I don't want this to reach her. Perhaps it oversteps my boundaries but... I am coming to you because of your experiences. With your son."
Lutia's face froze into a mask, but her coat nearly doubled in size. The ghosts of ancient scents toyed with her sensitive nose, like a forgotten perfume with a thousand attached memories half-remembered.
"I know how you were raised, Lavi. I know you wouldn't bring that up on passing curiosity." Her voice was at once stonily meditative, as though she were talking herself out of her anger, and subtly cold with a fear he hadn't thought possible from her. 
"Can you be saved?" she whispered.
The question caught him off guard. He had been raised on the stories of the past, of how Lutia's rage had razed everything they used to be and chased them from their homeland. But hearing the slight quake of her voice and seeing the tight expression on her face, he knew he was treading into a place in her heart that wasn't full of anger but of old loss and barely healed devastation.
"I don't know," he answered quietly. "I suppose I'm telling you because I'm hoping you might find a way to make the answer into a yes before it's too late."
He held out his palm, displaying a small golden crack in his flesh. Lutia traced it quizzically. It wasn't opalescence, though it bore a resemblance. It was more like a scar, but the magical nature of it was obvious. The gold color confused her. Numb to his magic or not, he was Arcane.
"Is this a new gene?" she demanded. "Something expressing after your contact with the Circle?"
He laughed dryly. "I don't think so. This is..." He frowned, and let his hand drop from hers. "My magic isn't numb, Lutia. It's not inside of me any more. It's been displaced."
"Ashes didn't find anything of the sort wrong with you!" she countered hastily. "You have magic, you just cant feel it."
"Because it isn't mine. That's why I can't feel it, or command it. Not even to change this body. The Circle took my magic from me, and left something else. Something that lets me feel them...forming out there."
He rubbed his scaly fingers over the crack, feeling the almost metallic sensation of whatever had solidified in it. "The magic inside me belongs to the Circle. To Abankhit, in particular."
"Who the hell is Abankhit?"
"The name of the stone I touched. You have their names on your scroll. Abankhit would be the last." His eyes turned away, more out of frustration than avoidance. "I have a lot in my mind recently, Lutia. Knowledge that doesn't belong to me. But it's like the knowing you experience in a dream. It's an understanding that doesn't make sense in the waking world. I only know for certain I am charged to see Abankhit and all the rest back among the stars."
Lutia stared ahead, worried immensely at that not one but a full three dozen unstable astrals were working on manifesting into Sornieth. "And when you complete this mission, it will save Rebis somehow...But cost you your life a well?"
"It is not the completion may kill me.” He smiled bitterly at the crack in his palm. "Just like the Radiant could not house his essence in a body that wasn't his, my body isn't going to last forever on Abankhit's energy. It's astral magic. Horizon was born as he was and had both energies in equal measure. I was born a dragon, and was never meant to exist with anything but a dragon’s magic in me."
She remembered with painful vividness how hard it had been for both Horizon and herself. Day in, day out, meditating and controlling themselves at the risk of sublimating to another plane. What Lavi was describing was worse. He wasn't at risk of going on to some glorious other form of life. He was going to deteriorate and he couldn't even take refuge in exaltation because he wasn't whole without his birth magic inside of him.
"We can do the opposite of what Rebis is doing," she insisted fumblingly. "Magic infusion is just as routine as siphoning. A pain in the ass but you could live if the problem is not getting enough draconic magic."
His jaw clenched. He was almost grateful when the soft blue-white light under the disc took on a harsh magenta color. The Celestial Vault screeched and groaned and the crystal shot outward in brittle, hastily formed masses of unstable geometry, cracking and breaking only to be replaced be even more poorly generated spires of celestine. The multi-layered barriers of elements that rose over arcane hissed, and it wasn't long before Lutia doubled over, claws digging at the Arcanist's emblem blazed into her abdomen.
"It's burning!" she gasped raggedly. Her fur and the cracks of her opalescence glistened in angry pink neon, the focuses lining her limbs sizzling white hot. Even the spellscroll around her neck was shining with ferocious intensity. "Get back! Something's wrong, the Seat writhes--!"
Without flinching, Invigilavi reached out and placed his hand over her emblem. There was a faint hiss as the magic singed his scales, but the focuses quieted. Her fur settled back to its usual plain charcoal. The surge passed. He breathed a cloud of stardust that nearly pushed Lutia to vomit, but unlike Horizon, he did not seem otherwise harmed.
"You're..." she fumbled, her eyes widening with her rising horror. "You're immune...?"
He nodded grimly. In his hand, the crack had grown, tracing a curving golden leyline from thumb to wrist. He had siphoned away her magic, to seemingly no other detriment at all. No signs of inundation sickness--not even the drunken giddiness that accompanied exposure to high levels of one’s home element. 
But the booming of the earth barrier collapsing left neither of them the time to fully appreciate the trust he had just placed in her, nor the magnitude of what he had just done, nor the implications of the enlarged crack in his palm.
"You're the Steward," he said firmly. "Control it."
The words brought her agitation back in full force. The Seat was reacting to something. As much as she hated to think that it had a mind of it's own, it was confused and angry. For just a moment,  something had caused a ripple in the connection between it and Lutia. And while it's only goal had been to find her, left to its own self-expression it was only good at expelling raw energy.
Lutia put it back to sleep with the certain promise that she was would certainly raze something when she found out who was responsible.
@boyonetta
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