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It’s Not That Bad [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: I’m so sorry I have not been writing as often. I’ve had zero time. But anyWaYS...here is a fic that has been requested by someone who has always been into my writing so thank you for supporting me and here is a fic for you! Additionally, I did some research on herbs and stuff so I could make this at least a little accurate!

Request: @quilledinkpen — Hellooo i hope you're having a good day ^-^ I was wondering if I could request a Legolas x reader? Something like she's travelling with the fellowship and is kinda the unspoken "mom" of the group, like she's always doing her best to make sure everyone's safe, and reminding Pippin and Merry to be careful and stuff like that. Just an all-around motherly person lol (mainly to the Hobbits bc they're her babies but she looks after the other guys too) I think it'd be cute ^^ Thank you!

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N), a healer, travels with the fellowship. She takes care of everyone and is basically “the mom friend.”

Word Count: 2, 510

Warnings: battle wounds that are kinda graphicish?

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

(Y/N) was a well known healer throughout all of Arda. Many traveled to her for treatment for life threatening ailments. But now, now it was her time to travel throughout the lands of Middle Earth in search of a salvation for all. A gruesome quest to destroy the evil ring of power had begun and someone well versed in natural apothecary was needed. (Y/N), of course, volunteered for this role for there was no one better suited than her. Besides, it was her duty to contribute to the survival of this world as she was one in it and relied heavily on what the earth produced. And if Sauron was to rule.....well, we all know where that would lead: no earth, no life, just darkness.

(Y/N) ruffled through her dark-brown leather satchel as she sifted through her healing herbs. Little pouches filled with athelas leaves, echinacea stalks, alder bark, valerian roots, and more piled inside the confinements of the fabric.

“Sam,” She called out. “Would you mind making hot tea for Frodo while I take care of Strider’s cut?”

The little hobbit ran over instantly and she passed him a couple pouches naming each one out loud, “Valerian root, dried chamomile pedals, and sycamore bark.” She then lowered her voice and leaned it, for it wasn’t anyone else’s business to hear. “It will help him sleep and deter the anxieties the ring bestows upon him.”

Sam nodded quickly and set to work as (Y/N) moved towards Aragorn who sat upon a large rock.

“Let me have a look.”

The dunedain rolled his eyes, “(Y/N), it is not that bad. Just a scratch.”

The young women sighed in annoyance and pulled up his sleeve to reveal a slash across his bicep. He was right—to an extent—it wasn’t terrible. He would not need stitches. However, it did need to be cleaned and wrapped for infections were nasty things.

(Y/N) started by pouring some alcohol over the wound; receiving a harsh hiss from the dunedain in response. She muttered a quick apology before continuing. The young woman ground athelas leaves into a fine paste and expertly smeared it onto the cut. She then unrolled gauze and placed it upon the wound. Lastly, she pulled white dressings from her satchel. She gingerly wrapped it around his arm, yet she was careful to still pull it taught as the goal was to keep the athelas paste in and bacteria out.

She stood up and brushed her hands off before placing them firmly on her hips. “See Strider, it takes only a couple minute.”

He grumbled at her comment but thanked her for the medical attention.

(Y/N) nodded quickly and went to check on the rest of the fellowship. She made her way to Boromir who was also sitting in rest. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Boromir, how are you doing? Any wounds?”

He seemed slightly startled at first for his mind had been elsewhere, but he looked up at her with a soft smile.

“I’m quite alright, My Lady.”

A light chuckled escaped her lips. “My friend, how many times must I tell you? It’s (Y/N), no lady of any sorts!”

He shook his head and grinned at her, “Well, my lady, I am doing quite fine.”

She let her eyes circle into the back of her head as the corner of her lip pulled into a smirk.

The healer turned and made her way to Gimli who was sharpening his axe.

“Gimli, I trust you are alright as I see you are already preparing for the next battle even though we just endured one.”

His gruff voice answered immediately, “Aye lassie! Those orcs can’t ensnare a dwarf that easily!!”

She laughed at his comment as Merry and Pippin came rushing up to her. As soon as she saw their faces she knew that the two mischievous hobbits wanted to claim her attention. She lowered herself down to their height as they flung themselves into her arms.

“Ahh my two hobbits! How did you fare in the battle?”

They pulled from her hug and began speaking at the same time.

“It was intensely scary but we were fierce!”

“Merry had hit one with a tree branch! It was quite magnificent!”

“Yes it was, I would have to admit! And Pip tripped another and he fell flat on his face!”

(Y/N) beamed at the two and giggled at their attempt to tell the story. As much as she was focused on caring for everyone, the hobbits cared for her—in another way that is. The four of them brought joy to her heart and glee to her spirit. Their innocence and appreciation of the simplest things brought happiness to her soul. They had offered her a welcomed visit to the shire at any time; telling her of the grand tour they would take her on. She had grown to look upon them as children for their smallness and way of perceiving life was similar so.

The two scampered off quickly, most likely to share their adrenaline filled story with Boromir, while (Y/N) did a final scan of the fellowship.

Her eyes soon rested on the elf. Legolas was off to a distance standing upon the rocky tundra. Something about his posture made her frown. His back was to her and his head seemed bowed, as if he was looking down at something. Furthermore, his one arm was pulled up at an awkward angle—strange, even for the elf. As the healer that she was, she was compelled to check on him.

(Y/N) weaved through the rocks until she was only a short distance from him.

“Legolas?” She questioned softly.

He immediately whipped around. His shirt fell to cover his form, but not before (Y/N) caught a glimpse of bright purple, red, and black. The young woman’s lips instantly parted in shock. She had seen many wounds in her life, on many people of many different races. However, it was not often that she had an elven patient with a wound like that. To state it simply, (Y/N) was worried—that looked bad, very bad. Legolas on the other hand was only flustered for he, an elf, had gotten snuck up on. He did not have great concern for the injury given that there were far more important things to worry about.

“Legolas,” (Y/N) stated firmly. “Lift your shirt.”

He sighed, “(Y/N), it’s not—“

She interrupted him, “Let me guess, ‘It’s not that bad?’” She shook her head, “You and Strider.”

She stepped forward and took the hem of his shirt in her hand. She cautiously lifted the fabric, not caring about the socially deemed scandalousness of the action—she was a healer after all.

(Y/N) sucked in a breath. A relatively large bruise stretched across his torso with a sizable cut in the center of it.

“By the Valar, Legolas!” She exclaimed with exasperation. “You should have come to me straight away!”

“(YN)—“

She cut him off again, “No. don’t ‘(Y/N)’ me. This is serious. It could be internal bleeding. I don’t care that you are an immortal elf, you can still die from this.”

The healer gently let her fingertips brush against his skin, tracing and examining the injury. He winced in pain at the contact and that did not escape (Y/N)’s attention.

“How did this happen exactly? I need every detail.”

Legolas groaned again when she grazed over the cut; and when he spoke it was with heavy breaths, “A harsh kick to the side into another orc....” (Y/N) hand pressed on the bleeding laceration and he hissed in pain before continuing to speak. “...who—who slashed downward.....with a jagged-edged blade that had a—a curved tip.

(Y/N) looked up at him with concern, his breathing was getting labored and that was not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

“Alright, come on.” She ordered. The young woman practically dragged the reluctant elf back towards the group and pushed him down on a rock.

She knelt in front of him and, once again, ruffled through her satchel.

“Take your tunic off,” she commanded while pulling out various pouches and gauze dressings.

(Y/N) could feel all of the fellowships’ gazes on the two, which only intensified when Legolas removed his tunic. She could hear the hobbit’s hushed whispers and concerned tones for the wound was gruesome and ugly—probably the worst they have ever seen considering their simple lives.

Once she had all her supplies ready, she set to work.

(Y/N) was kneeling in-between Legolas’s legs while she studied the torn up, bloody, and bruised fresh for yet another time; it was imperative that she made a plan before starting.

During this examination, the young woman could not help but let her eyes wander across his chest and rippling muscles. The bends and curves of his form looked perfect against his pale complexion. He was incredibly toned and well built, even more so than humans. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to him.

Additionally, battle scars of various shapes and sizes littered his body—which was expected given he was over 2,000 years old. Here, she took a moment to study them for if one really looked at a warriors scars their fighting style would be revealed. Many stretched across his being—specifically on his ribcage, sides, pecs, and abs—it was clear that he was way more reckless than he would like people to think. He was fast with his moves, going for the quickest way to an oppenent’s death, but that often left him exposed. No wonder he ended up with this terrible bruising gash. He lived up to the Mirkwood elf expectation—less wise and more fierce.

As (Y/N) realized that her mind had wandered too far off task, she cleared her throat and reached for the flask of liquor.

“This will sting,” she stated before pouring it over the broken flesh. As expected, a loud groan escaped his lips and his fists clenched around nothingness.

Carefully she dabbed the area with a cloth. (Y/N) then threaded a needle and began to sew his skin back together. The elf was stiff as he clenched his jaw and flexed his muscles—a natural reflex in this kind of situation. She continued to pull his skin taught so their was no more breakthrough bleeding. It seemed that he had gotten used to the sensation as she went given he began to relax. Next, she made a paste for the wound, much like Strider’s. However, she decided to use more than athelas leaves because this cut was more severe than the Ranger’s. (Y/N) ground up echinacea stalks and mixed in alder bark to soothe inflammation and fight infection. Gently she applied the blended mixture into his torso. Lastly, she wound gauze and dressings around his midsection in order to keep everything in place.

Much time had past given stitches took long; luckily, the fellowships’ concerned glances faded.

(Y/N) stood up from her position and it was then when she released just how close the two were. She stood between his legs, their faces inches apart. If it was anyone else, she wouldn’t have cared for she often had to be in such proximities with others as she was a healer. But this wasn’t anyone else, it was him.

“You—you should be fine now,” (Y/N) whispered. She cleared her throat and stepped backwards. “I will have to check on it every day and redo the bandages. And I advise you: no sudden movements, and no lifting heavy objects—like the hobbits.”

Legolas cracked a smile at that last comment. “Thank you, (Y/N). I truly appreciate your skill.”

“That is what I’m here for, is it not?” She adverted her eyes and kept her hands busy by gathering her supplies for she feared her expression would betray her.

Legolas put his tunic back on as he spoke, “I suppose it is, but nethertheless I thank you.”

......

As the days went on she continued to check Legolas’s wound. (Y/N) tried to make it more private by dragging him off to the side or away from the group, given that she suspected it was uncomfortable for him to undress everyday in front of inquiring eyes (aka the hobbits).

It was dusk when she crouched down to examine it once again.

“It is healing nicely,” She said. “A lot faster than I suspected, but I suppose that is because you are elven.” Her nervousness caused her to continue speaking when she did not wish to do so. “I mainly treat men....and dwarves. It is not often that I have a wounded elf at my door. Do you know an elf named Feren? I recall he said he was of Mirkwood Kin. I treated him once years ago for a busted leg when he strayed into northern territories.”

A small smirk crossed Legolas’s face, “Ahh so you are the beautiful healer who patched him up so well?”

(Y/N) felt heat creep up her face, “I—I would not say that—“

“Nonsense! He spoke of your beauty and skill many times, and he was not mistaken. I am just surprised that I have been lucky enough to gaze upon you and have you heal me.”

These words made (Y/N)’s gauze wrapping motions falter. “It—it is my job, Legolas.”

“Yet you go beyond your assignment and duty everyday. I see how you take care of us all, especially the hobbits. You truly have a noble heart.”

(Y/N) smiled softly and spoke in a teasing tone, “Well I suppose you are right—all you boys would be lost without me.”

A deep chuckled hummed in Legolas’s chest and the healer joined in with a bright laugh.

The giggles settled soon enough and Legolas spoke, his sentence quite abrupt. “How would you feel about coming to Mirkwood and living there as a healer once the ring is destroyed?”

Shocked, (Y/N) stuttered. “I—I am unsure. I don’t know if—“

“(Y/N)...” He interrupted. “I do not wish for the end of this journey to be the end of our acquaintance.”

The young woman looked down, “As I agree, but—“

“(Y/N),” he whispered.

Something about his tone made her freeze.

Ever so gently, he lifted her chin to force her to look at him. His voice was quiet as he spoke, “I—I don’t think you understand what I am trying to convey.”

Oh....

Now she understood.

The healer glanced at his lips which hovered near her own before biting her bottom one and locking gazes with him. Legolas of course noticed this and waisted no time. He pressed his mouth against hers and she instantly responded. Her hands slid up his bare chest, careful to avoid the wound on his torso, and then tangled themselves in his blonde locks. His muscular arms wrapped around her waist tightly as he focused on the taste of mint tea and fresh honey. The two moved their lips in sync and the world around them melted away. Suddenly, there was no quest, no fellowship, no responsibilities—only the two of them and the thudding of their hearts.

.......

Everything Tag: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @wellfuckmyexistence

Legolas tag: @dark-angel-is-back

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Dragon Age OC as a Companion: Revka Cadash

Trend started by @little-lightning-lavellan it’s an amazing one and I had such fun with it! Thank you for the template!

This will be under a cut, because ohhhhhh my, there’s a lot here <3

This is also on AO3!

Is your OC a Companion in the Dragon Age series? What would it be like for a player to select them to join their party for quests (or romance them, perhaps? 👀) 

You have selected Revka Cadash to join your party!

Race: Dwarf 

Affiliation: Carta 

Gender: Female

Class: Rogue/Archer

Specialization: artificer

 Background

Revka Cordelia Cadash (born 8:95 Blessed) is a dwarven rogue and businesswoman. She is a companion and a potential romance option for a male human, dwarf, or qunari Inquisitor in Dragon Age: Inquisition.

Revka is a member of the many-membered Cadash Clan, and daughter of Brygida ‘Cookie’ Cadash and Artur ‘Archie’ Cadash. She has an older brother, Tavi, as well as numerous cousins, including Edric ‘Dasher’ Cadash, the head of the Ferelden Carta.  

Revka grew up in the company of her rambunctious cousins, and thus views them like brothers and sisters. It’s common for Cadashes to play tricks and pull pranks on each other as a way to show affection, as is evidenced in the short story ‘Flapping in the Breeze.’ Some of Revka’s favorite pranks include spiking food with chili oil, switching people’s beverages, hiding belongings, and breaking into ‘private’ things such as journals, desk contents, or that box of cookies under the bed.  

Revka made a name for herself in the Carta accompanying her mother and cousins on patrol as a teen. Her deadly accuracy with a bow earned her the nickname ‘Hawkeye;’ her duties quickly expanded to include ‘problem-solving’ for the Carta, her solutions ranging from assassinations, blackmail, and negotiating contracts, to smuggling, and forgeries. Her successful business plans and battle tactics made her a valuable asset to the Carta.

In 9:13 Dragon, Revka married Iwan Feddic, a member of the merchant caste and a Cadash client in Ostwick. She helped her husband run his international shipping business, a venture she took over after his untimely death. When Dasher’s wife, Darya, died at the hands of the Orlesian Carta, Revka returned to Ferelden to help her cousin raise his five children, turning over the Ostwicker affairs to her brother, Tavi.

When the Cadashes eliminated a rival Carta branch in Kirkwall, they sent Artur Cadash to oversee operations in the city. 22-year-old Revka volunteered to accompany him, becoming her father’s second in command. Once arrived in Kirkwall, she helped him found Graywater Imports, an import/export company functioning as a storefront for both legal and illegal goods. She is a prominent member of the Cadash Carta branch in Kirkwall, often dealing with the Dwarven Merchant Guild and Varric Tethras.

Romance with Varric Tethras

Shortly after Revka arrived in Kirkwall, she met the young Varric Tethras. What began as mixing business with pleasure became a romantic entanglement that lasted until Tethras met the talented smith Bianca Davri, and broke off with Revka for Bianca. As much as Revka wanted to cut all ties with him, she maintained their business relationship… and an unrequited, one-sided love for the deshyr prince.

Involvement

A special mission at the War Table will unlock a quest at Kirkwall’s Docks, ‘Ten Shades of Graywater,’ in which the Inquisitor will receive a mysterious anonymous letter inviting them to the coast to discuss a purveyor/supplier contract for the Inquisition. The Inquisitor will arrive in a seemingly abandoned alley, but is ambushed by Coterie thugs. After the enemies are slain, Revka can be engaged in conversation.

If Varric is in the party, he will be surprised to see Revka. It’s revealed that they know each other through various business ventures, and are old acquaintances… although the weighted, bitter quality of Revka’s answers imply that their relationship is more complicated than Varric had said.

Upon further questioning, Revka pitches her business proposal: wholesale lyrium for the Inquisition’s mages or Templars, with access to the Cadash Family’s network of spies, businesses, and Carta members for Inquisition purposes. Her only condition is that her family obtains an industry monopoly, becoming the sole provider of lyrium for the Inquisition and Southern Thedas.

Revka can be found near the archery targets and training dummies in Haven. Once the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold, Revka spends time training in the courtyard, in Skyhold’s main hall talking to Varric, or in the rookery, spoiling her messenger crow, Cipher, with treats. Dialogue options will reveal that she uses the bird keep in contact with her family and business associates.

 Approval and Romance

Revka can be romanced by a male Inquisitor of any race, and will jokingly comment on the height differences if romanced by a qunari, elf, or human. A Cadash inquisitor of either gender can unlock Carta-specific dialogue. Revka is guarded at first, giving out only generic information about her family, but with some persistent questioning the Inquisitor can wear her down. Depending on dialogue choices, the conversation can end with the Cadashes exchanging stories of ‘colorful’ family members and an approval gain.

   Revka takes a more pragmatic view on politics: she supports whoever pays the most, and sells lyrium to both the Templars and mages without discrimination. Upon learning the truth behind the events Redcliffe, however, she is dismayed to learn what her products enabled. Traveling to Redcliffe with Revka in the party will trigger her personal quest ‘Scales Fall from Her Eyes.’ (this quest will trigger after the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold if the player sided with the Templars)

Revka approves of Inquisitors who are tenacious, calculating/far-sighted, and does what is best for the majority. She believes that the end justifies the mean, sanctioning death only as a last resort. She approves of bold plans, investigating all aspects of a quest before making a decision, and an Inquisitor who makes jokes (especially puns). Her sense of justice changes as the player completes more of her personal quests. She will approve of charitable acts and kindness as the game progresses and her personal beliefs change.

Revka’s romance can be initiated through the conventional method flirting and conversation. During the quest ‘Scales Fall from Her Eyes,’ the Inquisitor has an opportunity to embrace Revka, leading to a kiss.

If Revka is not romanced by an Inquisitor, she can enter a relationship with Varric Tethras, but only if the Inquisitor assists in reconciling the two ex-lovers. Revka’s romantic past with Varric is hinted at in party banter if both are present, the two bickering with each other. This series of quests are available post-arrival at Skyhold, and has conditional dialogue for certain scenarios.

Revka gets along well with Dorian and Cassandra, bonding with them over their mutual love of books. It’s revealed that the three of them have an unofficial ‘book club’ going on, where they read various novels and comment on them in party banter. Revka also gets along well with Sera, bonding over pulling pranks in Haven and Skyhold. She makes a special bond with Leliana over nugs, owning a nug, herself.

Revka does not trust Solas from the moment she meets him, stating he knows too much, and is fond of talking without saying anything. She also suspects Blackwall of hiding something.

Companion Quests

Scales Fall from Her Eyes

After the events of Redcliffe, the Inquisitor will receive a note from Revka to meet her at the abandoned cabin outside Haven. Or, if the player sided with the Templars, this will trigger once the Inquisition relocates to Skyhold. At the meeting, she will share her guilt and horror at what occurred. She questions her personal beliefs, and offers an apology with the promise to amend her family’s business practices. After this quest, Revka is more empathetic, approving of selfless and charitable acts, whereas before she’d disapprove.

At the end of the quest, the Inquisitor has an opportunity to embrace Revka, which can lead to a kiss, if desired.

Varric’s Quest in Valammar

Revka can be found beside the fireplace in the main hall, arguing with Varric over the contents of a particular letter. Upon investigation, the Inquisitor learns that Revka has broken into the locked box in which Varric keeps his correspondence, which she claims he’s done to her on multiple occasions over the years. He neither denies nor confirms the accusation. Revka demands to know why Varric is still in contact with ‘that woman,’ declares she won’t set foot in the main hall until his ‘guest’ is gone, and leaves, demanding the Inquisitor ‘talk some sodding sense into him.’

This leads into Varric’s quests with Bianca Davri, and some cutting comments from Bianca calling Revka a ‘sore loser.’ Varric comes to Revka’s defense, much to the Inquisitor’s surprise.

If the Inquisitor takes Revka to Valammar, she disapproves and will grouse all the way there, cutting snide remarks whenever Varric says something. She becomes jealous during Bianca and Varric’s reminiscing, interjecting and muttering. Her anger only grows as the quest proceeds, Revka calling out Bianca for her selfish, pragmatic methods and carelessness. Once Inquisitor concludes the quest, Revka declares she needs some air, and says she’ll meet the Inquisitor at the nearest inquisition camp later.

Upon arrival at the campsite, a scout reports that Revka never returned to camp. The Inquisitor must search the nearby area; eventually, they find Revka injured after being ambushed by bandits (the Inquisitor and the party must defeat them in order for the quest to proceed).

If Varric is present, he will be upset, demanding to know why she would be so foolish as to wander around alone. Revka half-jokes, claiming how surprised she is that Varric cares about her safety, after all these years. Varric’s expression visibly shifts. The Inquisitor arranges for her immediate medical care, but it’s too serious a wound for her to remain out in the field. After this point, Revka is unavailable as a companion until after the Inquisitor returns to Skyhold.

Once the Inquisitor returns, they will find Varric in the central courtyard, pacing outside the infirmary/medical tents. The medic will inform the Inquisitor that Varric hasn’t left since Revka’s arrival, but refuses to go inside to see her. Selecting Varric for a conversation will show he can’t bear to face her after what happened at Valammar; he feels especially guilty, knowing that she got hurt in an attempt to calm down after the encounter. The Inquisitor can remind Varric that his apology should be to Revka, not them. To trigger their romance, the Inquisitor can encourage him to visit Revka and share his feelings.

If the Inquisitor visits her instead, they will gain high approval with her, and further unlock romance scenes. After the visit in the tent, Revka will invite the Inquisitor to her quarters to personally ‘thank’ him. The Inquisitor can choose to accept her proposition, or refuse. Depending on choice, Revka may sleep with the Inquisitor. There is an option to break relations off with Revka the morning after.

 Revka’s Family

Revka’s war table missions mostly revolve around business opportunities she’s scouted out for the Inquisition throughout Thedas. Some of these are triggered through conversations with Revka in the rookery or throughout Skyhold. Completing quests from her cousin Jon in Tevinter will reveal Venatori camps on all game-maps, and will reduce the cooldown time on war table quests dealing with Venatori in general.

Revka’s cousin, Czibor, can be encountered in the Hissing Wastes hunting Venatori. Accompanying xem in eliminating a Venatori camp can lead to xir recruitment as an Inquisition agent.

The Trouble with Tavi

After the quest Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, Revka will ask to meet the Inquisitor, requesting their assistance in a matter of life or death. She reveals that she’s received a letter from the Orlesian Carta, stating their displeasure at the Inquisitor’s choice of ruler, since they’re encroaching on the Orlesian Carta’s operations. They know Revka and the Cadash family has been helping the Inquisition, and threaten to exact revenge. She’d thought it an empty threat until her brother Tavi stopped replying to her letters. Upon investigation, it’s revealed that the Orlesian Carta kidnapped Tavi and have hid him at their base in Val Royeaux. Revka asks the Inquisitor for assistance.

Should the Inquisitor refuse Revka, she will greatly disapprove, stating that her brother’s more important that the Inquisitor’s ‘sodding principles,’ and leave the Inquisition to save him. She will not be available again until later in the game (post Adamant), when a war table mission will appear from Tavi in Ostwick, stating that Revka saved him and has returned to Kirkwall. She is still very offended, and is considering terminating the Cadash business contracts with the Inquisition. He urges the Inquisitor to please make her reconsider, citing the monetary gain the contracts net him but also Revka’s hurt (note: the letter will also reference a romanced Varric, asking the Inquisitor to enlist his help). The Inquisitor has the choice to make up with Revka and invite her back, or leave her be.  

Should the Inquisitor choose to help Revka, she will greatly approve and travel with the Inquisitor to Val Royeaux. Varric—regardless of the romance status—will also express interest in coming, but bringing him along is not required. Revka will be touched by his offer, regardless.

The meeting place mentioned in the Carta’s letter is an abandoned oil warehouse at the docks. Inside, the companions note the derelict condition of the place. The further they travel into the warehouse, following a trail of blood, the smell of rancid oil grows stronger. In a storeroom, there is a lone dead dwarf bearing a note, a man Revka recognizes as Tavi’s second in command in Ostwick. If the Inquisitor can find Tavi before time runs out, the note says, they’re welcome to him. As the Inquisitor reads the note aloud, a shadow darts in the periphery; the door slams shut, locking them in. A torch is thrown in through a window, setting the spilled oil on fire.

The Inquisitor may, through a series of dialogue choices, decide to rescue Tavi or leave him to his fate, opting to escape. If the Inquisitor chooses to escape and leave Tavi behind, Revka will greatly disapprove, running off to find him herself. If she is romanced by Varric, he will also greatly disapprove, stating that they should go after Revka. If the Inquisitor chooses this route, they can still save Revka and Tavi. Otherwise, the two Cadashes are not seen again, supposedly perishing in the fire. Revka will then be unavailable as a companion for the remainder of the game.  

The mission to save Tavi is time-sensitive, with several endings: should the Inquisitor take too long to escape or find Tavi, the warehouse will collapse on them, killing everyone. The timer, separated into quarters, is marked by sections of the roof collapsing: escaping by the third collapse will guarantee the party’s safety. Escaping post-third collapse can result in a 50% chance of the roof collapsing on the party: if this occurs, Revka pushes either her love interest or her brother out of the way of a falling beam, sacrificing herself for their safety. The mission then ends with the party barely escaping in time, mourning the loss of their lover and/or friend.

Pranks

Various pranks around Skyhold and Haven are attributed to Revka via ambient dialogue and party banter. If the approval rate is high enough, Inquisitor has an opportunity to join Revka in pulling pranks around Skyhold post-Adamant. She claims that she’d like to cheer everyone up, and would like the Inquisitor’s help.

Prank 1: sneak into the kitchen and switch the sugar out for salt in a cake.

Prank 2: paint a smiley face on the back of a sleeping Solas’s head

Prank 3: Rearrange Vivienne’s furniture

Prank 4: Distract Varric so she can steal his letters and replace them with scrambled riddles

A cutscene follows, showing a crowd standing at the base of a flagpole the morning after. Revka pushes through the crowd, gasping: someone has nailed her frilly blue panties to the pole. Varric is seen leaning against a column, howling with laughter. Revka pulls a face at him and scowls, but eventually ends up laughing, too. (Note: this is inspired by the short story ‘Flapping in the Breeze’)

Trespasser

If Revka left or died during the events of the game, she will not be at the Winter Palace. Otherwise, there are several outcomes as to what she’s been doing…

If she romanced Varric, she returned to Kirkwall and is his lover

If she romanced the Inquisitor, she stayed alongside him as an Inquisition agent

If she did not romance anyone, she returned to Kirkwall

There is an option to marry Revka as a romanced Inquisitor, or urge her to marry Varric. If she marries, her brother Tavi and a recruited cousin Czibor may attend the ceremony.

 Combat comments

Kills an enemy

And stay dead!

Sodding nughumper, good riddance.        

Low Health

A little help would be lovely!

Oh shit. Not good.

Atredum na satolva! Toss me a health potion,     will you?

I’m too old for this…        

Low Health (Companions)

(The Inquisitor) Inquisitor!

(The Inquisitor - if romanced) Hold on, love!

(Varric, unromanced) Varric, you don’t look so     good...

(Varric, if romanced) Oh shit, don’t you dare die on     me.  

(Sera) Can someone check on Sera, please?

(Cassandra) Cass! Wait!

(Dorian) Dorian needs help!

Location comments

(Approaching Camp) Ahhh! Home sweet tent. 

(When collecting a shard) Ooh! I wonder how much it’d fetch at market.

Storm Coast

(sighs) They ought to call this place the ‘Soggy Coast,’ or the ‘Sopping Coast.’  My socks are soaked through to my boots.

Fallow Mire

The bugs will drain you dry before the undead will. Nug-humping bastards keep biting me…

Anyone else feel eyes watching you from the shadows?

Hinterlands

(Laughs) You know, back when I was running jobs for the Carta, I would get so lost here in the Hinterlands. Good to know things haven’t changed.

Don’t go near there; bears love that place. I learned that the hard way…

(at Witchwood) Ah, the Which-Witch-is-Which-Wood. Da would warn my brother and I about this place when were children.

The Hissing Wastes

I have sand in places I never knew existed.

Why my cousin had to choose to hunt Venatori in the ass-end of nowhere is beyond me…

Emprise du Lion

(scoffs) Snow. Snow. More sodding snow. I’m up to my tits in the stuff.

We don’t get snow like this in Kirkwall.

(on seeing a snowfleur) Ooh, look! Fluffy nugs! Can I take one home? Lucky could use a friend.

Emerald Graves

I…I heard the reason why this place is called the Emerald Graves. Such a tragic story.

I didn’t expect such greenery this far south, to be honest.

Exalted Plains

(shivers) You can feel the sorrow in this place.

 Companion Comments

Blackwall: “Rev? She’s a bit… unnerving, to be honest. Never smiles, glares holes in the side of your head. Offered to sell my carvings in Denerim, though: two sovereigns apiece. I swear she could sell water to a fish, that woman…”

Varric: “(Laughs) Hawkeye and I go way back. Don’t let her innocent face fool you: she’ll bleed you dry at Wicked Grace if you let her. Learned some of my best tricks from her—Don’t…erm. Don’t tell her that.”

OR

“Do you know how Hawkeye got her name? She shot a fly from across a room, once. Still don’t know how she did it.”

(If Inquisitor romanced Revka) Hawkeye’s a sweet girl, under all the Carta bullshit. I’m glad she has you; she deserves some happiness in her life.”

(If romances Revka): “I know they say don’t mix business with pleasure, but I get all the best discounts at Graywater Imports, now. You want anything? I think they’re running a sale on Antivan leather, at the moment.”

OR

“She’s probably upstairs feeding Cipher, knowing her. Or taking another order for Dagna; buys crafting supplies like candy, that one.”

Sera: “Rev’s fun, not all stuffy just ‘cause she’s someone back home, yeah? Takes jokes well. Can’t shoot for shit, though…”

Cole: Ash, steel, gray, withering inside at the sight of him smiling at her. Don’t look back, you’re not going that way; old coals don’t rekindle. It bleeds under her armor, but she can’t bandage the wound. I want to help. (if she romances Varric) but he helped her feel whole again. (if she romances the Inquisitor) but you helped her feel whole again.

Solas: “Is it wise to allow a known member of the Carta in our ranks? She actively seeks information and passes it along to her superiors.”

OR

“Do tell Mistress Cadash that if she breaks into my desk one more time, I shall ward the drawers to set her on fire. I can tolerate harmless pranks, but one thing I cannot abide is liars who snoop.”

Iron Bull: “They say still waters run deep, and she’s no exception. She might appear all laughs and smiles, but that woman knows exactly what she’s doing. Don’t underestimate her.”

Dorian: “Ah, my darling Rev: she has excellent taste in literature and baked goods.” (if she romances Varric) “And dwarven merchant princes.”

Cassandra: “I doubted her intentions, at first, but she has proven herself quite useful to the Inquisition. If you see her, tell her to return my book, will you? She ‘borrowed’ a week ago, and I want to know what happens to the poor Guard Captain.”

Vivienne: “Mistress Cadash would do quite well at court; she understands the Game surprisingly well for one who’s not a courtier. Too strong from the onset, however: the idea is to gain a person’s trust, not frighten them into submission.”

Cullen: “I knew Mistress Cadash back in Kirkwall; I’d frequent Graywater Imports often. They carry three kinds of hair pomade there, did you know?”

Josephine: “Mistress Cadash has many useful connections throughout Thedas; I’m pleased she offers them to us so freely. But then, we’re making her a rich woman with all the business contracts. Quid pro quo, as the Tevinters say.”

Leliana: “Rev is a shrewd woman, fierce and good at her craft. Did you know that she has a pet nug in Kirkwall? She always has something for the birds when she comes here; I like her.”

 Trivia

It’s said that the young Varric Tethras wrote his  first novel, The Dasher’s Men, about Edric Cadash, Revka’s cousin. The femme fatale who assists the hero of the tale, Revka, is heavily inspired by Varric’s lover at the time, Revka Cadash. An autographed copy of The Dasher’s Men can be found in the rookery, where Revka sits.  

Revka adores cookies, and has been trying to get the secret brandy snap recipe off of her cousin, Edric, for years. She has tried everything  from recipe book publisher scams to impersonating the Viscount of Kirkwall’s chef to obtain the recipe

In party banter, Revka will mention her nug, Lucky, which, according to the short story, she won  during a rather raucous evening of Wicked Grace.

When Revka isn’t reading, answering correspondence, or training, she enjoys baking, sewing, and embroidery.

Despite being an adept businesswoman, Revka is terrible at bookkeeping, and will often complain about it to Varric… sometimes enlisting him to do it, with a bribe of cookies.

Well Loved Hands

A/N: This was originally written for Fikiweek2020, Idiosyncrasy day, but it strayed too far from this prompt, and I didn’t feel comfortable adding this story to that day/idea. So **please read the warnings** and have some Kíli comforting Fíli. Thank you @dreams-of-wander for beta-ing (Is that what it’s called?) this for me and helping me keep it safe for readers. 

Pairing: Fiki

Rated Mature

**Warnings: self-harm- nail biting (not gratuitous), injury, light gore if that’s a thing, smut, comfort, Post Quest of Erebor, everyone lives, nobody dies!

Summary: Fíli had all the ‘good kinds’ of flaws. "Too kind, too trusting, too generous for his own good." However, they all boiled down to one unhealthy and rather harmful habit. But Kíli never judged, only soothed.

ûrzudel: sun of suns 

When those around him looked at Fíli, it was always with a smile and sparkling eyes of pure admiration. The mothers of Erebor would speak of his enormous heart and how they wished he would take their daughter for his wife. The fathers would puff out their chests and say with absolute certainty that Fíli would be a great king for Erebor. The children would play make believe and fight over who got to play Prince Fíli with his swords and daggers that sliced open fierce orcs in battle. If any dwarf dared to ask about the heir’s flaws, he would be booted out of Erebor faster than he could say, “Gandalf is a troublemaker.”

Those who knew Fíli better, such as those in Thorin’s Company, would roll their eyes at Erebor’s blind and undying love for the young prince. But all the while, they’d never say a bad word about Thorin’s nephew, because Fíli truly was worthy of the adoration he attracted. 

“That lad only has those good kinds of flaws,” Dwalin said.

“He’s too kind-”

“Too trusting-”

“Too generous for his own good!”

Like the humble dwarf he was, Fíli shooed these ‘compliments’ away, ears flaming at the joking insults that were more like glowing praise. 

Kíli took his hand under the table and ran his thumb over the back of Fíli’s fingers. Though Fíli sent a squeeze in return and tilted his head in Kíli’s direction, he wouldn’t look at his little brother. Right now, Fíli was embarrassed, and not just because of the praise from their friends. Little pin pricks of shame poked Fíli’s already scarlet cheeks because he knew I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it.

Kíli scooted closer, ignoring the rolling of his gut, and wished the two of them were alone so he could kiss Fíli well enough and hold him tight enough to make him believe that everything was okay. 

***

Fíli did have all the ‘good kinds’ of flaws. But they all boiled down to one unhealthy and rather harmful habit. He bit his nails. And not in a cute or charming way that someone could ignore or fall in love with. Fíli chewed and pulled and picked at his nails until his finger tips bled. If he was anxious during meetings, stressed throughout the night, or nervous at the dinner table, he was sure to be hiding his hands from curious, condemning eyes. 

But Kíli never judged. Only soothed.

That night he massaged cream into Fíli’s skin, holding back a wince, a gasp, a tsk, as Fíli let out a hiss of pain. 

“I didn’t know I was doing it.”

“I know,” Kíli said.

“I thought I was doing better.”

Kíli dipped another clean, healthy finger in the cool, smooth ointment and rubbed it into Fíli’s short, sharp nails and screaming red skin. 

“You are.”

Kíli couldn’t help but wonder about his brother’s habit. Was this something unique to Fíli, or did this happen to other dwarves? Perhaps humans or hobbits? Kíli had suggested going to a medic again, asking more questions, but the one visit for the cream was enough for Fíli. I can fix this myself, he’d said.

So Kíli kept his secret and helped him heal, though his goal was to stop his brother from harming himself this way. From lashing out against the label of The Golden Prince. And Kíli had his ways.

***

Being the nephew of the king meant Kíli too had to be present at most meetings involving the dwarven realms, though he’d rather be anywhere else. Spending his time working in the forge, training with the army, or even exhausting himself in the dwarfling nurseries seemed much better options than sitting, trapped in the throne or council rooms from dawn to dusk. These preferences were well known by all involved and one would think he’d run from his responsibilities at record-breaking speeds if given the chance. Some conversations, after all, were not for every ear in the council. 

However, his escape meant leaving Fíli alone for an untold number of hours in an unbearably stressful environment. 

So Kíli would stay. He’d wriggle his way to the head of the table, between his uncle and his brother because he wanted to learn, he wanted to be a part of what made the council great. He wanted to be right there if his brother needed him.

Though for most of the day, Fíli didn’t need him. He sat with both hands glued to either arm of his chair, calmly listening to various problems and solutions to the kingdom’s needs. Thorin asked for his opinion on multiple occasions and Fíli was brilliant. He’d learned much from his studies and apprenticing, but he also had intuition that a realm could trust with their lives. Kíli was proud.

Kíli was still proud when Thorin and his brother disagreed. 

“You think that would be a good move for our people?” Thorin yelled across the table, ignoring the awkward fidgeting of the other guests sitting around it. “Have you completely forgotten…”

Kíli stopped listening to his uncle’s growling. Instead, he watched Fíli. Though he didn’t shrink from the harsh words or the harsher voice, his hands did slide into his lap from the arms of the chair. Kíli could just hear his nails clicking over Thorin’s unjust shrieking.

Secretly and sneakily, without drawing the gaze of any of the distracted council members, Kíli ran his fingers down Fíli’s forearm and pulled his hands apart before Fíli could inflict any more damage to his already torn up skin. He held Fíli tight and felt him breathe deeply, as if his head had been yanked above an unforgiving riptide. 

“Uncle,” Fíli interrupted. “I know our kingdom’s history. But I have also done the research and our land has changed since we last ruled it. I am confident that…”

Kíli loosened his grasp, sure that Fíli could handle the rest of the conversation alone, but Fíli held on. He kept their hands comfortably in between them, lacing their fingers together - a small embrace that remained there for the rest of the meeting.

***

Kíli couldn’t always be by Fíli’s side. He had his own duties, his own life, and there were often full days the brothers spent apart. Most of the time, Fíli would catch him stealing a late dinner from the kitchens long after its doors had been closed to servants and others in the mountain. They’d talk over their days and stuff themselves full (to the prep cooks’ morning despair) and somehow find the strength to amble back to their chambers.

Some nights were different. Occasionally, Kíli would slowly turn the knob on their door and curse the loud creak of the hinges as he opened it, hoping such an argument wouldn’t wake his sleeping brother. But as the door slid ajar, candlelight flooded the corridor. Fíli was still awake, drenching his hands in the healing cream the medic had told him not to administer by himself. 

But Kíli wouldn’t admonish, not now. He sat on the bed and took the jar away from Fíli, seamlessly replacing the broken fingers with his own.

“I can do it,” Fíli said.

“I know.”

Without another word, one brother took care of the other. Kíli massaged until the cream had soaked into the skin and disappeared, but even with his tender touch and calming presence, Fíli still sat on the bed like stone. Too proud to be disgraced, too strong to crumble, too old to need his little brother.

Kíli lifted Fíli’s hand and kissed the back of it. His kisses traveled down the wide hand, lingering over stubby, well loved fingers, gracing harsh, abused tips and nails. One kiss was granted to the palm before Kíli lifted the other hand, giving it the same treatment until Fíli let the callused inside caress Kíli’s equally rough cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Not for his pride or his distance, but for failing. Again.

Kíli replaced the lid on the jar and cast it away on the side table before wrapping his arms around Fíli’s shoulders and pulling him down to settle together on the bed. Tonight, Kíli took control of the kiss, converting it from one of apologies and promises to do better into one of acceptance and support and adoration.

He gave caresses of commitment over Fíli’s shoulders and up his bare back under his tunic. Smooth fingertips fondly followed thick curls of soft, golden fur over a heaving chest, down a flat belly and into loose trousers, while hips ground and thrust together - lacking discipline, but coursing with thirst.

Fíli hid his face in Kíli’s neck when Kíli found his erection, throbbing with arousal and defying the ugly burdens of the day. He huffed a curse as a talented thumb circled his head, digging his nose into his lover’s pulse.

“Please, Kíli, I need-”

“I know, ûrzudel.”

With every pull, Kíli pledged it - “I’ve got you, I’ll take care of you, I love you.” He felt Fíli’s tears slip from the corners of his eyes and down his skin - tears of desire, of frustration and desperation, of stress and release, of love and gratefulness for his brother. 

***

Fíli had to be protected and taken care of, yes, but he was not to be coddled. Kíli learned this very early on when he was so scared and so concerned, that he was much too patronizing. Then, Fíli’s bellowing had bounced off the walls of his chambers, and the jar of cream off the stone floor as Fíli threw it far away. There was nothing wrong with him and if there was, he could fix it himself. He didn’t need his baby brother babying him.

The secret, Kíli learned, was to keep his brother’s hands busy.

Kíli would ask him to re-braid his hair. Yes, Fíli had just done it and yes, it looked fine, but there’s something pulling right there and it would bother him all day if it wasn’t fixed. 

Or Kíli would plop on the bed, making it bounce so Fíli lost his page in the book he was reading. With a great, big apologetic smile, he would wriggle between Fíli’s legs and beg his older brother to rub his shoulders because it feels so good or he had a headache or he couldn’t quite reach that itchy spot by himself. Just like that, Fíli would stop reading his book about Ereborean wars and quit chewing on his already very short thumbnail. 

Kíli was clever with his courting gifts. Just because we’re brothers doesn’t mean we’re not courting, which means we ought to exchange courting gifts, right? Right. This led to Fíli walking into his chambers and seeing his desk covered with impeccably wrapped boxes and bow-tied bags. 

Stop staring at me and open it, earned Kíli a few balls of ribbon chucked his way. However, Fíli was soon too astonished to punish his brother any more for his disrespect. Piles of wrapping lay on the ground, but on the desk sat something perfectly combined - a perfect set.

Paints? Oil paints and watercolors and acrylics, along with parchments, books and canvases of all sizes, collections of brushes - anything he’d need. But Kíli’s favorite piece was a blending palette that would ensure this would become a two handed hobby. It was personalized with their initials etched into it and the craftsman assured him that no matter how much paint was glooped onto the ceramic tile, those marks would still be visible. 

Fíli stood, embarrassed and mystified. Then rambling. You went to a craftsman? These must have cost… you didn’t have to do this, having you is enough, but this will sure keep me busy, but you knew that… you knew that.

Fíli thanked him. The night went by with little sleep but no nail biting.

As did many of their future nights together as things got better. Kíli read aloud from Fíli’s books as his brother painted by the window. His artwork that was once shoved away and hidden in old servants’ quarters in the basement, was hung with care and pride on the walls of their chambers. Kíli’s hair was occasionally braided three times a day by a willing lover. The jar of medicated ointment gathered dust on the shelf in the washroom and Fíli learned that even a future king needs his little brother.

Tagging you friends! Thanks for reading! @dreams-of-wander @nerdbirdsworld @marigoldvance

**the following is no way indicative of direct rp interactions & is solely referring to the personal canon to idrylla. if your muse wants to refer to the closeness of one of the companions listed here by all means, unless you are holding another rper muse in mind as that connection is different & not based upon these by the interactions idrylla & that muse has had. however if you would like to base interactions on these descriptions with your muse def lemme kno & we can plot on this further !

idrylla is not the only focus of the story, they are one of many that line the cast of our main tale & the interactions between idrylla & these characters drive the story forward or back. as the game still rests within the area of early access & there are hints from datamining of future companions this list is not complete nor is it going to contain anything proper beyond act 1 in terms of connections. with the previous statement said, here is each of our companions & the relationships held with idrylla as per the canon to their character & me. **i will note if i have romanced a npc like this, as the game is in early access n just like in who’s line is it anyway the choices n points dont matter there is no canon romance for idrylla at this moment in time. 

LAE’ZEL: idrylla has very few memories of the nautilus. their capture, their containment, & the escape itself is somewhat of a blurry mess. what they do remember is lae’zel. they remember her face, her struggling, her escaping that pod. they saw the moment the mind flayer infected lae’zel & the fear held within the githyanki’s features. all of this is unspoken between the two, but for idrylla it’s spurned a lot of emotions that have boiled down to pushing idrylla to get close to lae’zel & be quite defensive of her with strangers( shadowheart can make a few insults as a treat, lae’zel in return can make some serious threats in return as a treat ). it is with the first weeks of travel idrylla can be found hanging out along side lae’zel like a safety net, finding the familiarity of their escape as a bridge to base a friendship upon. despite that link that idrylla has tied between them they find lae’zel absolutely delightful in every way possible & considers lae’zel probably the closest friend idrylla has had in years, the honesty lae’zel shows in the most blunt way a refreshing change from the passive aggressiveness of the wizards guild peers. beyond all this, lae’zel is also the first githyanki has ever known & has prodded the poor warrior with a multitude of questions to absorb the info like a weird elf sponge, even going out of their way to learn on their own & ask lae’zel about later on. idrylla holds lae’zel’s opinon in high regard & often will ask her or look to her for her advice & even if not followed takes it in consideration. anyways they are best friends. ( lae’zel: we are not ‘friends’ / idrylla: you’re right. we are best friends, pal. / lae’zel: tch. ) **lae’zel has been romanced 

SHADOWHEART: while idrylla did try to save shadowheart from her pod, idrylla also has particularly failed at every turn to get shadowheart to even attempt to trust them. traditionally anyway. since the common ground of the parasite & needing to team up & trust each other has failed to get shadowheart to loosen up, idrylla has taken the approach to just be a utter nuisance to shadowheart. often chiding the other with jokes or teases, stirring up trouble between shadowheart & lae’zel, forcing shadowheart to go talk to people at parties( notable example is when idryl forced shadowheart to dance with them at the big fun tiefling celebration party in which shadowheart was so emabrassed she probs would have died on the spot if she wasnt actually having fun the whole time ), etc etc. shadowheart stresses idrylla out, so tightly wounded & clearly bothered by something that is clearly at times more dire than the worm in their brain. it activates idrylla’s older sibling mode near instantly as often the fussing of the other reminds idrylla very warmly of their younger siblings, one being very similar to the uptight cleric. when shadowheart does breakdown some of those walls & reveals her religious beliefs idrylla presents themselves as very accepting. while agnostic themselves, they do make a point to show they hold no ill will to shadowheart & support them, but more importantly wants shadowheart to learn to rely on them from then on to be more honest about anything. it’s after this shadowheart tends to be less antagonistic toward idrylla. but only a little less.

WYLL: idrylla noted early on that the “”””stone”””” that rests in his socket has a heartshaped looking pupil & annoyingly( to everyone except wyll himself ) calls him hearteye. as a baldurian they are very well versed in knowing the various tales & stories of the blade of frontiers. wyll is idrylla’s favorite drinking companion & the two get along like a pair of bros in a budding bromance that will make the fans go crazy. wyll holds a hard sense of justice that idrylla tends to think of a buzzkill at times, but does value the pull of morality his chiding holds considering her own moral standing at current is fuzzy at best. she does truly worry about how skiddish he tends to be about his guarded secrets & once learning upon the truth they promise to aid them in his quest to save his ‘totally not devil girlfriend’ & when wyll protests about such a title idryl simply responses ‘oh no i totally get it, hearteye.’ with a laugh & wink. idrylla also has wyll teach them the use of the blade, taking those teachings & applying them to their learnings of the staff as a weapon vs a channel for magic. often one can see them sparing in camp on down time. wyll is also the only one of the companions who gave idrylla a proper condolence when idrylla’s less than tragic backstory is revealed to the the companions, to which idrylla who was properly touched thanked him with a hand to their heart & a ‘aww, thanks man. you’re a real one.’

ASTARION: idrylla is far softer on astarion than they should be & they will deny it. usually such a judgement of letting astarion getting away with ( in most cases, literally ) murder is preceded by a loud groan or sigh. it’s not that idrylla wants to dull astarion’s sparkle, but more of a general worry. the more idrylla learns of him, the more & more they just feel bad( astarion: i rather be spared of pity, thanks / idryl: it’s not pity. i don’t pity you its just. well hearing that shit that happened to you ? makes me sick, man. horrible things to go through. makes me want to hit something. ). but the primary worry is what will happened to their newfound friend once the parasite is extracted, will astarion burn up in the sun ? prevented from hanging out with them at bars ? will they not be able to find something for him to eat on the journey they set on ? idrylla has no real way to comfort astarion in the face of his past & it makes them uncomfortable. all that can be offered is a arm about his shoulder & a ear to listen.  beyond all this, however, the two get along disturbingly well. idrylla’s current fuzzy moral standing & general pull to do really stupid things setting a stage for the two of them to act in their own chaotic fashion. the two make comments with each other that would make people wonder if they share a braincell. idrylla often pulls lae’zel into their shenanigans much to her dismay. the fact that astarion is a vampire spawn has absolutely zero negative effect or reaction from idrylla. **astarion has been romanced

GALE: i hate these two. considering gale being a wizard busybody i have to do the most divergent shit with this mf. love this catdad, anyways here go. gale & idrylla absolutely know of each other prior to the events of the game & have a loving rivalry friendship thing going on. they have met a few times due to the wizarding guild( take in mind, this wizard guild is something im developing for idrylla & is not canonical to the game ) of which gale would visit, but is not apart of, due to his associations. the two never had a proper moment of conversation prior but are as i said, very aware of each other at least in terms of their talents in magic. so whilst there is a pre-established link between them they are without a doubt strangers. their rivalry comes out at any time magic is spoken about or knowledge thereof. a interesting change in demeanor for idrylla who, for all intents & purposes before & during the events, tended to not have a proper ambitious or know-it-all bone in their body. the two will often agree about magic or purposely disagree. they speak of other wizards & generally are capable of working together to figure out spells or something magical in puzzles. when gale says that idrylla knows nothing about the weave, it took everything in idrylla to not set him on fire. when faced with the truth about gale’s utterly stupid need to consume magic & the reason behind it, idrylla simply just starts smacking him on the arm & calling him an idiot( considering idrylla’s recent expulsion from the wizarding guild spurred on by peers that are  power hungry & would do whatever they could to get ahead, the ordeal of gale sits very heavy on idrylla. while they does apologize later & explains the why. ). over time the two have gotten less antagonistic to each other & more or less bicker for the fun of it, showing that the two have found themselves more or less comfortable with each other & in their aventures found respect in each other’s talents. so far anyway. idrylla has threatened to steal gale’s cat( in jest to make gale wig out. )

She Walks in Shadow Chapter 18

The scar on Bilba’s back hurt, and it was pissing her off.

Largely because, up to that point, it had been about the only thing that didn’t hurt.

Having her younger body, free from scars and other wounds she’d picked up over the years, had been nice at first but the appeal was quickly fading. Every muscle hurt from her attempts to get back in shape, and the gait of the pony constantly reminded her that this body had virtually no riding experience whatsoever.

It was a miserable experience, and all of it was compounded farther by the ever-present feel of eyes boring into her back.

She shouldn’t have slept with him.

She knew that, obviously. She’d known it then and knew it doubly now. It was just that, at the time, the idea had been that she’d be the one suffering the consequences for it.

It had never occurred to her that he’d have any lasting hang-ups.

Just further proof of how little she’d known him to begin with.

In any event, sleeping with him had not had the desired effect. She’d expected it to settle her down, prove that neither of them was the same person. She’d expected it to help her stop wondering, cheapen it all even. Take it from the lost fantasy in her mind to the grounded reality, to the knowledge that what was lost could never again be found.

She’d expected it allow her to move on.

Or at least…she thought that was what her intention had been.

Instead she’d just ended up hurting him which, in hindsight, shouldn’t have surprised her. That was what she did, after all, wasn’t it? Hurt him. Failed him when he needed her most. It only made sense that ---

Bilba cursed quietly. Stop it, she ordered herself. Stop thinking of him as him. Even if he felt the same, smelled the same, even if the sun brightened his hair to the same burnished gold and his smile lit the same fire she’d felt back then.

It wasn’t him.

 He was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.

 Now if he’d just stop staring at her all the damn time.

He was probably still convinced he’d gotten her pregnant.

He hadn’t, of that she had no doubt. She’d been sent back to accomplish a task, and it wasn’t to give her a second chance. The Valar didn’t care a single, small hobbit and, even if they did, that hobbit certainly was never going to be her.

She was there to accomplish a task. A pregnancy would get in the way of that task which meant, simply put, she wasn’t pregnant.

He’d relax eventually, breathe a sigh of relief and place the entire incident in the back of his mind, under the label of “Mistakes Not to Be Repeated.” His interest would wane and turn elsewhere and…that would be that.

The discomfort in her back spiked unexpectedly and she tensed, unconsciously pulling her shoulders back as if she could somehow squeeze the pain out of her body.

“Are you all right?” Dwalin asked quietly from where he rode next to her.

“I’m fine,” she said shortly.

Dwalin’s gaze went to the horizon where the sun was in the process of sinking toward the earth. “We should be stopping soon.”

Bilba tsked. “I don’t care.”

He chuckled. “Sure you don’t.”

Bilba considered throwing a knife at him, but decided it wasn’t worth losing the progress she’d made in trying to gain Thorin’s trust. She’d ridden next to him nearly all day, simply chatting and trying to forge a relationship. If she wanted to get anywhere with him in the future, if she wanted any hope of changing things, having his trust and respect would be vital.

Dwalin settled back into silence next to her. He knew better than to try and push her, especially when she was in a bad mood.

The pain in her back spiked again, like a severe pinch she couldn’t relieve, and she let out an annoyed hiss. Her younger body was fast proving to be more of an irritant than her battle scarred one had been.

She forced herself to study the landscape, watching for potential threats. There hadn’t been anything this early the first time around but, then again, there hadn’t been orcs in the Shire the first time either.

They were still traveling through a mostly open plain and would continue to do so until they reached the Trollshaws.

The Trollshaws, and the actual trolls they’d met there the first time. Bilba still hadn’t decided what to do about them. As things stood at present, she had the advantage of knowing everything that was coming. The second she started to change things she would lose that advantage and be as blind as if she had been back then.

Movement came up on her left side and she turned her head to see Bofur riding alongside her. He grinned and reached up to tap his hat. “Lovely day we’re having.”

“It’s no different than the one that came before,” Bilba said, pain making her temper short, “or the one that will come after.” At least until they got closer to Erebor and winter began to set in. A cold breeze seemed to rush through her veins and, in the back of her mind, echoed the splintering sound of ice cracking on a frozen river.

She tensed, and her fingers curled around the reins.

Beside her, Bofur was chattering about something or other and she struggled to focus on him in the hopes it would take her mind off where it was trying to go.

It took her only a few minutes to become completely enthralled.

He was just so…alive.

It was such a stark contrast to how he’d been the last time she’d seen him. There’d been no light in his eyes then, and the few smiles he’d managed to dredge up were brittle and false.

None of them had come out of that last battle unscathed.

From Bombur who’d lost himself in the monotony of work, to Ori who’d found a second quest and followed it to the same bitter end as the first. Nori who’d given himself to the streets, Dori to the dark halls of his mind, and Balin who’d fled Erebor in search of something he could never find. Even Gloin who’d come out the best of them all with family and fortune awaiting him back in Ered Luin. He’d never spoken of the quest after returning, and stories she’d heard from others spoke of his struggle with nightmares, moodiness and flashes of temper.

It made her wonder sometimes, just what they had all hoped for that first time around. What would drive someone to set out on a mission where, going in, they knew the most likely outcome was death. Was it loyalty? Hope? Desperation?

What was it that had driven her to go? To give up the comforts of home and hearth to set out with a lot of strangers on a quest doomed to fail?

Whatever the case might have been, there was one thing she knew without question and that was that all their hopes, dreams and fears had been bound up in the figure of Thorin Oakenshield.

Bound with him, and died with him, and as Thorin had gone so had they all.

She rode now with a company of ghosts.

Fourteen souls had marched to Ravenhill, and eleven husks had left it.

Bofur cleared his throat awkwardly next to her. “Ah, I’m sorry, Lass. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave you alone.”

Bilba blinked in confusion, and then reached out and put a hand on his arm before he could drop back. “No, wait.” She hesitated as something inside her almost overwhelmed her, nearly desperate to replace the last image she’d had of Bofur with the one riding beside her now. “I’m the one who should apologize. I’m not used to riding. It’s put me in a foul mood.”

He grinned; a genuine one that poked at some dark corner of her heart and threatened to open a door she’d long since shut. “Well, it just so happens cheering up pretty lasses is a specialty of mine.”

The barest hint of a smile tugged at Bilba’s lips. “Is it?”

He nodded sagely. “That it is. If you’d like, I’d be happy to do my best to get your mind off—” he stumbled slightly, face reddening slightly, “—other things, that might be distressing you.”

He made a vague gesture in the direction of her saddle and, again, Bilba felt that ghost of a smile along with an almost desperate desire to recapture, if even for only a moment, some small piece of what that first journey had been.

Minus Thorin glaring at her every five seconds. That she was happy to do without.

But, as for the rest, what little of it that could be recaptured…that she was happy to entertain for however long it might last.

***

They traveled for several more hours, finally stopping only as the light began to change to the brilliant oranges and red of sunset.

By that time, she’d gathered quite the little group around her. Apparently, her willingness to have Bofur riding next to her had made various members of the company decide she was…approachable.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like them, or that she didn’t want to spend time with them. It was just that she was so out of practice. Out of practice with small talk, being in groups, being around more than just herself and her own thoughts. Before, she could go weeks without seeing someone, days without remembering to say a single word and then only to her pony.

She was out of practice with hospitality. She’d been bad at it to begin with and was worse now. Knowing when to smile and laugh and make small talk, thinking of questions to ask or answers to give. She had tried, a little, at first. There were just so many of them, though, and they were all crowded about her and it felt like the air was being sucked out even though they were all outside.

She’d eventually stopped trying and lapsed into silence, eyes focused on what little of the landscape she could see through the people around her. They hadn’t really noticed, or perhaps had simply allowed it, their conversation flowing around and over her in a cacophony of sound she couldn’t begin to follow.

Thorin finally called a halt on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the forest that lay before Rivendell and the foot of the Misty Mountains. Said mountains loomed before them even now, a craggy rock face rising up hundreds of feet into the air. When she’d been younger, her mother would sometimes take her on trips to see the elves and Bilba had always loved the sight of the mountains. They called forth a feeling of mystery and romanticism that would have her awake late into the night dreaming up epic tales of what fantastical sorts of creatures might live there.

She’d never told anyone but at least a tiny part of her decision to go on the quest had been a desire to finally set foot on those rocks and see for herself what lay beyond.

The answer, she’d soon found, was apparently rocks. Giant, rude rocks that couldn’t be bothered to tell you when you were standing on them and that liked to play catch…with other rocks.

She really was not looking forward to a repeat of that. Judging by the look on Dwalin’s face as he gazed up toward the not-so-distant peaks neither was he.

They set up camp under a low overhang very near to the edge of the cliff. Bilba had a vague memory of it from the first time but it was overshadowed by everything else that had happened and was preparing to happen again.

She did remember the sight of Fili and Kili huddled up under the overhang, mostly because she could recall being mesmerized by how the firelight played off Thorin’s oldest nephew.

The reality now, when compared to the memory still lurking in her mind, did not disappoint.

She waited until most everyone else had set up their bedrolls before unfurling hers on the edge near where Thorin’s was. It was far from the chatter of the rest of the Company and, after listening to them for the entire day, she could understand his desire for some peace and quiet, as much as could be found under the circumstances.

She wasn’t surprised when Dwalin dropped his bedroll next to hers.

He headed off to speak to Thorin and Bilba wandered over to drop down next to where Gandalf was seated on a large boulder.

“Are you all right?” he asked as she dropped down next to him.

Bilba’s eyes tracked over the company, watching as they laughed and chatted amongst themselves, joking and carrying on as if they were on a lark and not a suicide mission. “No,” she said finally, eyes going toward where Fili lounged against the rock shelf next to his brother, “but sometimes I wish I was.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper on the last, but she wasn’t surprised that Gandalf caught it anyway.

“And, what, pray tell,” he prodded gently, “is keeping you back, my dear?”

Fili’s eyes shifted toward hers, as if he knew she was looking, and Bilba turned away. “You know the answer to that, old man.” She pushed to her feet. “Neither of us is who we once were.”

“And is there a reason you can’t begin again?” his voice questioned from behind her. “As you both are now?”

Bilba didn’t answer. Instead she went to stand at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the forest far below. Night had fallen and there was little to see but a black void stretching out beneath her feet.

“What’s so fascinating about the dark?” an amused voice asked from behind her.

Bilba barely reacted. She’d felt him approaching, like a too tight string suddenly going slack.

Fili moved to stand next to her, arms crossed in an unconscious mirroring of her pose. A breeze coming up from below brushed an errant strand of hair over his shoulder and she had to clench her teeth against a surge of irrational jealousy.

It physically hurt to not be able to touch him. She’d ridden ahead of him all day, and had barely seen him outside of rest stops, but she’d been aware of him every second. She was convinced that, if pressed, she could have turned and pointed to his exact position without a moment’s hesitation.

“What will you do at the end?” The words came out of nowhere, born from a sudden need to give him a reason to keep standing beside her as long as possible. “After reclaiming Erebor?”

He shrugged. “Same thing I’m doing now, I suppose, just in a different place.”

“Oh.” She forgot sometimes that Fili already had a life well before he ever met her. That he’d been a prince in his own right, helping to rule Ered Luin alongside his uncle. In her mind, only the journey had existed. An independent world separate from the rest of Middle Earth.

She’d never met Fili outside of that. Had no idea about his life in Ered Luin. What his daily responsibilities had been, things that had annoyed him or made him happy, what he’d done in his free time.

If there had been a girl he’d had his eye on.

How she could have gone nearly an entire year without knowing any of that showed just how shallow their relationship must have been.

Just a dream, one that would never have survived the light of day. If they had retaken Erebor, he would have realized it. Seen just how poorly she measured up against those he’d left behind, just how out of place she was in the life he’d long ago established.

He’d have grown tired of her, and she’d have ended up in the same place she had the first time around.

But at least he’d have still been alive.

She’d have traded it all for him to have still been alive.

Would have traded it then and would trade it now.

“What are you planning to do?” Fili asked, breaking into her thoughts. “I heard that you sold your house before leaving.”

“I haven’t decided,” Bilba lied. “Perhaps I’ll go stay with the elves.”

“Because life in the Shire wasn’t boring enough?” Fili’s lips twisted. “My apologies, that was uncalled for.”

Bilba surprised herself by chuckling. “But fair. Life in the Shire isn’t exactly known for excitement. As for the elves—” she frowned. “I’ve been to Rivendell and I have to say that I have no idea what it is they do all day.”

“Right?” Fili asked. “Perhaps they simply wander about and practice looking pensive.”

Bilba’s lips quirked into a smile. “Perhaps, and let’s working on sounding grave and mysterious.” She shot a glance over her shoulder. “I wonder sometimes if Gandalf might not be part elf.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Fili said dryly. “He does seem incapable of simply speaking straight. I think we could be in mortal peril and he’d waste time trying to cryptically tell us how to defend ourselves.”

“So he would,” Bilba murmured. Her good spirits flagged a bit at the thought of them being in mortal peril. They would be going through that soon enough.

Her eyes went to Thorin who was still resting against the edge of the stone. The last time around he had been the one standing here, staring out over the darkness while Balin had recounted the story of how he’d gotten his title, Oakenshield.

Disquiet moved through her. Why was it different? She tried to think back, and a hazy memory began to form. He’d been asleep back then too, but then he’d awakened…for dinner? No…it had been something else, but she couldn’t remember what.

Beside her, Fili raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“No.” Bilba shook her head. She was being ridiculous. She was so used to living in constant danger, so used to paranoia, that she was seeing danger where there wasn’t any. Everything was fine. It was a miniscule change that could have been caused by any number of small, infinitesimal actions. It didn’t mean that –

A loud screen came from somewhere behind them, off in the darkness, and both she and Fili half turned to look.

“Looks like an owl got its dinner,” Fili mused.

“I suppose,” Bilba said slowly. The memory of their first trip pressed forward again.

A screech, she remembered. There had been a screech that time too, but from down below, in the valley. Fili and Kili had made a joke about orcs and that had…

She twisted back to look down into the darkness that masked the valley floor. Why would that have changed? She could understand other things, things that might have changed because they rode at a different pace or she said something different or a host of other things. She, Dwalin and Gandalf all remembered the first trip, it made perfect sense for some things to change no matter what they did or did not do.

But not this.

Nothing had delayed them that long, and they were in the same place so what could change –

Realization hit.

Ice ran through her veins and her heart thundered so hard in her chest it was a wonder it didn’t burst right through.

She spun, mouth opening to raise the alarm…and it was already too late.

Dark shadows stepped into the flickering firelight, and quickly resolved into orcs.

At least a dozen of them, if not more.

A shout rang out, she had no idea from whom, and then a flurry of activity broke out as everyone dove for their weapons at the same time. Thorin went from sleeping to standing at ready, sword clasped in hand all in one, simple move.

Bilba stood frozen. Her blood thundered in her veins and her heart threatened to burst right out of her chest. She felt cold, ice cold, and her eyes remained helplessly fixed on the empty spot between two of the larger orcs.

Orcs didn’t travel alone, and they didn’t travel without a leader. The bigger the group the more important the leader and for this one to be here…to be here when they shouldn’t be, when they hadn’t been…

Please don’t be him, she thought desperately. Please don’t, not yet. I’m not ready yet.

Please.

A new orc stepped into the light. One bigger, and stronger than any she’d seen in a very long time.

An albino, a condition so rare and unique amongst the species he was often referred as the pale orc.

One she hadn’t seen outside of her nightmares, in what felt like an Age.

One she’d have been grateful to never see again.

 Azog.

Follow on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16547237/chapters/38767136

Love and War - 6/16

Description: In a harsh medieval world, you set out on a perilous quest that will lead you onto a forbidden land. A land ruled and controlled by a ruthless Warlord King, one who does not look favourably upon trespassers of any kind, and punishes all with an iron fist. You may not know exactly where this quest will end, but what you do know is you will forever be altered by it. And that knowledge alone is what truly terrifies you the most.

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 4,520 ish.

Pairing: Medieval!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG for now. May become 18+ later.

Warnings: Violence. Curse words. Mentions of fears and potentially brutal medieval tactics. Most likely more to come down the road. Please don’t let these warnings scare you too much, give the story a try before you judge it.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

Is he the King? Oh Gods!! He is the King!

You quickly drop into a low curtsy, your eyes staring down at the ground. You aren’t of Noble blood, therefore you aren’t supposed to make direct eye contact with a King. It’s highly disrespectful to just stare at them, let alone meet their eyes. Oh Gods, hopefully you haven’t angered him with your foolish ignorance. You need to stay in his good graces, at least until you may ask him when you can take your leave, when you can go home.

You keep your eyes on the floor, your gaze so focused it may cause a hole to form, in the wood floor below you. That actually wouldn’t be so bad, you think. Just so long as it is large enough to swallow you whole. Then maybe you could escape this place—or rather, the piercing eyes you can feel boring into the top of your head.

All of a sudden two feet enter your line of sight, startling you slightly. But nowhere near as startled as when, out of nowhere, you feel two fingers under your chin, urging you to raise, to look up at the owner of the fingers. Lovely tingles shoot through you, starting in your chin and working all the way down to your toes. The feeling is rather strange, but you like it nevertheless. You comply with his silent plea, rising up to your full height, but even with that said, you only come face to face with a broad chest. You slowly raise your eyes up and are once again entranced by the sea blue ones peering back at you.

You inhale deeply, mesmerized by their beauty all over again, but then a deep voice begins to whisper and your eyes drop down to the movement of his lips.

“You needn’t ever bow to me, little one,” he starts quietly. “You are my,” he pauses and your eyes flick up to lock with his once more. Noticing that he appears to be thinking about something. Searching for the right word possibly, or trying to pick an appropriate one, maybe? “Guest here,” he finishes, though he sounds slightly unsure of his chosen word. Reluctant of it, even.

You just nod slowly, dazedly, in response. Enjoying just standing here, in his presence with his fingers upon your skin. You could happily stay in this exact moment forever.

You internally shake your head, needing to focus your mind on more important things at the moment. Specifically on his use of the word ‘guest’. That word implies you are to leave eventually, that word alone gives you a little more hope of actually returning home. To your family, to your life, to your cosy little room. To Triskelion.

Though with those thoughts comes that silly little nagging feeling again, taking up root deep in your stomach as if it were there all along. That ridiculous feeling that implores you to stay here, to never leave this place. Something here is calling to you, but you still have no idea what that something is. Or how you are even to begin going about finding said thing.

All you know for sure, is it is somewhere in this castle. Somewhere within these very walls. Someone clearing their throat forces you to reluctantly tear just your eyes away from the Kings, leaving your chin resting on his fingertips. Only to be instantly reminded that you are not alone in this room, when your vision lands on Bucky across the table from you. A massive smirk on his lips, as he just watches the interaction unfolding between the two of you. He wasn’t here before, so he must have arrived with the King, and you were just to enamoured by the insanely large blonde, to even notice the second in command entering the room.

Your gaze travels down the table, as best it can with your chin still within the Kings grasp, noticing that everyone you can see wears similar smirks to Bucky’s now. The silence in the room begins to feel suffocating all of a sudden, as heat rises rapidly up your neck, and to your cheeks. How very embarrassing this all is, having an intimate interaction with a stranger, a King no less, in front of all these eyes. The eyes of his closest confidants, his ‘Generals.’

Your eyes snap back to the Kings and you hesitantly take a step back, needing some distance from him now. Not only for your sanity, as just his citrusy, woodsy smell alone is intoxicating, but also for your dignity. You don’t want anyone getting the wrong impressions of you. Especially not here, not any of these people, these highborn Generals and Lords.

And as you do step back, his fingers drag delightfully along your skin, before leaving your chin entirely, taking with them the pleasant tingles from before. And instantly sending an awful shiver down your spin, as you now feel extremely cold, not having even realized just how warm his touch was truly making you.

A rumbled unhappy noise echoes from within his chest, sounding much like a growl. No, it was a growl, for sure. Reminding you that this man has the ability to change into a very large, very intimidating, beast. And that it’s best if you remember that, and try to go out of your way to not upset him.

You hesitantly smile up at him, instinctively reaching your hand out to rest on his forearm but abruptly halting the action. Realizing you were just about to touch him, a King, without his permission. Your hand just awkwardly hovering in mid air now.

“My apologizes, Your Majesty, I shouldn’t have taken liberties with you just now,” you mumble respectfully, as you go to pull your hand back towards you. Gods, what is wrong with you today!? First you stare at him and almost forget to bow—before he told you it wasn’t needed, which is once again odd, but you will worry about that later—and then you almost touch him?! You need to get a hold of yourself, this isn’t some random man, some commoner, this is a King! The terrifying warlord King at that!

You feel a warm hand grasp yours before it can reach your side, the tingles instantly shooting up your arm. You glance down to see your small hand now held in his much, much larger one. “Please call me Steve,” he says and it sounds more like a command than a request. Your gaze follows his muscular arm, to his broad shoulder and finally settles on his handsome face. “And you are more then welcome to take any and all,” a playful smirk appears on his lips, “liberties with me that you deem fit. You needn’t bother with such trivial conventions here. Please speak and act however you’d like, whichever way feels most natural to you.”

You nod once again, as you quietly say, “alright, if that is what you wish of me.”

“It very much is,” he smiles widely at you then helps you into your chair, pushing it in for you once you are fully seated.

His eyes stay locked with yours as he moves over to his seat, at the head of the table. But once he stands in front of his chair, he looks away from you to glance around at the others. The highborns who are all still currently standing in front of their seats, amused looks still adorn their faces and you quickly look down at your hands, now resting in your lap.

“Thank you all for being here tonight on such short notice,” the Kings deep voice booms around the room. “I gather you all have been introduced to Lady Y/N by now?”

“We have, Alpha,” they all say in unison. And you glance up, your brows furrowed by what they all just referred to him as. You look around and no one seems confused by the strange title. No one except you, that is. What even is an Alpha? What does that even mean?

“Good, then let us get on with dinner,” he says, and movement to your left catches your eye, turning to see the King sit down. And once he is settled the others follow suit, taking their seats as well.

And then servers carrying large dishes appear from a side door, beginning with the King and yourself as they start to offer various dishes to you. Slowly working their way around the table once finished with each new person. The lively chatter from when you’d entered the room, picking back up again as everyone happily fills their plates. Piling them high, much higher than is proper in polite society.

You glance down at your plate, seeing your meager portions, but even with so little, you’re not even sure you’ll be able to finish this amount of food. Let alone anything more. How any of them will ever be able to eat all of their huge portions, is beyond you. That is entirely just too much food for any human being. Even ones much larger than yourself.

The intense feeling of eyes upon you once more causes you to lift your gaze, not at all surprised when they lock with piercing blue eyes again. An amused smile on his lips, “we all tend to work up large appetites here. Therefore you’ll notice we eat substantially more than others.”

“Why is that, though? And why is everyone in Winterbourne so much larger than anywhere else? How are you all so damned big?” You ask, bluntly. Your curiosity getting the better of you, as the words leave your mouth, unfiltered. Long before you could even have a chance to think about them, to even attempt to word them more politely. But before you can apologize for your crass behaviour, a deep chuckle rumbles from the King’s chest.

“You make us out to sound like mutants. We really aren’t that much larger than average people,” he chuckles a little more then shrugs, “and it’s just how we are built here. The people of Winterbourne have always been large, I believe we inherited this size from our ancestors. The original settlers of this land.”

“You mean the God of War and his wolves made man?”

His amused expression drops instantly and he shots a pointed look towards Nat, she snaps her eyes to him, whatever she was saying to Tony dies in her throat. And after a silent and intense moment she shakes her head, Bucky does as well. The Kings eyes then flick over to Sam, narrowing slightly once they reach their target. You notice as Sam shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and then his eyes glance at you for a moment before snapping back to the Kings. “I apologize, Alpha, I was not thinking when I told her that,” Sam says crestfallenly as he lowers his head submissively.

You quickly turn to the King, “please do not be upset with Sam. I was the one who forced him to tell me,” you hear Sam cough loudly from beside you, probably trying to stop you from continuing, from taking the blame. But you ignore him and continue on anyways, “I refused to take no for an answer. If you are to be angry at anyone, please be angry at me.” You can’t allow Sam to get in trouble because of your desperate, and insistent, need to learn everything you can about this place. That just isn’t fair at all.

The King's eyes snap to you, locking with yours, as amusement slowly forms in them. He raises a brow at you, “so, let me get this straight, you’re saying that my top Military General was easily persuaded to divulge our people's history, by one little, persistent, human woman?”

A few snorts ring out around the table, as Sam groans quietly next to you.

“I um,” you pause, this is why Sam coughed, he wasn’t trying to stop you from taking the blame. He was trying to stop you from making things worse. Gods dammit, you really aren’t cut out for any of this stuff. You drop your eyes down to your lap again, ashamed of yourself, “I’ve only made things worse, haven’t I?”

“No, little one, you haven’t. Sam is not in any trouble, nor am I angry with him, or you,” the King says gently, and you look up at him. He offers you a small reassuring smile, “yes, I may be a little irked with him. Though not because you learned of our history, but entirely due to the fact that I wanted to be the one to tell you about it. But there is so much more for you to still learn, so I will take pride in being the one to tell you of those things,” he glances past you to Sam again, narrowing his eyes slightly in warning. Probably informing Sam to keep his mouth shut from here on out. Then they shift back to you, softening once again.

You give him a small forced smile and nod, feeling slightly guilty now for taking that away from him. But at the same time, how were you to know he’d want to tell you. So far, Sam had been the only one to tell you anything, of course your curious mind would run with that. Would push him to tell you more. Who wouldn’t?

However, now that you know that the King wants to explain things to you, you will reframe a little with your inquiries. Or maybe just remember to keep what you’ve learned to yourself, from now on. Yes, that one sounds much better indeed.

Everyone falls back into their conversations and you begin to eat your food, keeping quiet while just listening to the voices around you. To the different discussions around the table, not really focusing on any in particular though.

As you are finishing your meal, a loud knock is heard and the King yells, “enter.” You glance towards the door you’d come through earlier, seeing a young man entering the room hastily. He bows to the King, “I apologize for the intrusion, Your Majesty.”

“That’s quite alright, Peter,” he smiles and waves the man closer. Peter obeys and comes to stand beside the Kings chair, which places him next to yours as well. “Since you are here now, I’ll introduce you both,” he gestures to you, “Peter, this is Lady Y/N.” Then he gestures to Peter, “Lady Y/N, this is Peter, he is my Squire.”

Peter turns to you and his eyes widen comically, before he quickly bows to you, “M-my Lady, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you. I-I’ve heard so much about you,” he excitedly stammers out.

“All good things, I do hope,” you say then giggle softly at how flustered he currently is, and even though you still aren’t really comfortable being called ‘My Lady’, you keep that to yourself this time. You smile genuinely at him, “but it’s wonderful to meet you, as well, Peter.”

He smiles back just as a low growl rings through the room, causing the young man to instantly turn his full attention back to the King. Bowing his head submissively once he does.

You furrow your brows at this whole interaction, there are still so many things that confuse you about this place, it’s people, and it’s protocols. But you’d keep those questions to yourself for right now, choosing to instead just watch how this all unfolds in front of you.

“What urgent news do you have for me, Peter?” The King asks, his voice deep and authoritative.

“It is for you and Sir Bucky,” Peter starts, still keeping his head bowed, “Sir Brock is here again. I apologize, I tried to tell him to come back at a better time but he refused. Said it was urgent and that he’d just wait for you to finish dinner.”

The King sighs deeply, looking irritated as he glances towards Bucky and Nat. After a strange moment the two aforementioned nod to nothing, as neither they, nor the King, has so much as made a peep, let alone uttered any words. The King turns back to the young man, “where is he now?”

“With two Guardsmen near the front entrance.”

“Good, keep him there. Tell him we will meet with him when it is convenient for us, I won’t have him storming in here making demands of any of us. Especially of me,” he growls the last part. “You are free to go,” he says calmly to Peter, who nods quickly then hastily exits the room.

The King abruptly stands, and as he does, so does everyone else at the table. You quickly follow suit, standing as well. He turns to you, taking your hand in his and raising it to his lips. Placing a sweet kiss to your knuckles as his eyes stay locked with yours, and the moment his lips touch your skin, overwhelmingly pleasant sparks shoot up your arm, and you almost rip your hand away from his, startled by the sensation.

His lips leave your skin and he smirks, as if he knows exactly what you are thinking, what you are feeling. “I must go deal with all of this, but I hope you enjoyed dinner. I was rather looking forward to being able to walk you back to your room myself, but it appears that won’t be the case tonight.” His smirk morphs into a small frown as he lowers your hand, however he doesn’t release it and instead keeps it firmly, but gently, grasped in his own.

“Sam, make sure she gets back to her room. Take the back way, I don’t want her anywhere near the front entrance, is that understood?” He says, authority in his voice. And you deflate slightly at the notion that he was going to walk you back, but now can’t. You were so close to getting a moment alone with him, a moment that you could have learned more about him. Privately.

What are you thinking?! No, you don’t need to learn any more about him. You need to ask him when you can leave this place. When you can go home. Not what his favourite dang colour is! ..Though you’d wagger that it’s blue—argh! Get a hold of yourself, woman! That’s not important at all. You can’t get attached to this man, you have to go home! To Wanda, to Pietro! Remember, your wonderful family, with whom you miss very deeply!?

“Of course, Alpha,” Sam replies adamantly. His voice an unwavering promise to fully adhere to the Kings wishes.

The King nods approvingly, giving you one more disheartened look that he tries to mask with a fake smile. But you can see right through it, he is not happy that he has to leave you. Which both excites and terrifies you, all at the same time. Butterflies erupt in your tummy as your heart pounds in your chest. How is he already so attached to you?—Wait, why are you already so attached to him?! How are you able to read his face like a book, like you’ve known it all your life. See the small truths in his eyes, upon his lips. Regardless of the front he tries to put up.

Gods dammit, so much for not getting attached to him. You clearly already are and you’ve only interacted with him for a total of an hour, at most.

His hand squeezing yours gently brings you out of your mind. You look down at your joined hands and then up to his eyes, “goodnight, little one.”

“Goodnight,” you reply quietly, not feeling particularly happy about saying goodbye to him so soon. Then he reluctantly releases your hand, turning to Bucky and Nat, “let’s go,” he commands gruffly, the words sounding almost like a growl. Then he turns and exits the room, Bucky and Nat following closely behind.

Once he is gone, everyone resumes their seats and conversations. You falling silent once again, except this time it’s due to this immense desolate feeling deep within you. The room that once felt warm and full, now feels empty and cold. Even with a large table still very much surrounded by large boisterous men.

“You will see him again soon,” comes a whispered voice, from next to you.

You glance over to see Sam giving you a small, reassuring smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know,” you mumble and nod meekly, then scold yourself for acting so childishly over a man you’ve only just formally met.

“Are you all finished?” He asks.

You glance down at your plate, and though there is still food on it, you no longer feel hungry. “I am.”

He stands, smiling and offering you his hand, “alright, then let’s get you back to your room so you may rest.”

You nod and accept his hand, saying goodbye to the others around the table. All of them giving you hearty goodbyes in return then Sam leads you out of the room. Taking the opposite direction from where you’d originally come from, when he’d brought you to dinner earlier.

After a few moments of silence, you speak up. A few things bouncing around in your head, “Sam?”

“Hmm?” He hums in reply, continuing to lead you along.

“Who is Sir Brock?”

“Oh, no. Nope. Nuh uh,” he shakes his head adamantly, “I am not telling you a damned thing anymore. I almost got chewed out for the last one, I am not risking that again.”

You muster up the best puppy dog eyes you can, pairing them with an exaggerated pout, “please, Sam. I promise not to tell a soul this time.”

He glances at you and groans loudly as he looks away from you, “a damned pout, really? What is with women and pouting,” he mutters quietly, you believe mainly to himself as you barely heard him. But then he sighs deeply, “fine. I will tell you a little,” he playfully points a finger at you, narrowing his eyes, “just a little, though. And you have to swear that you won't let anyone know I told you!”

You raise your free hand in the air as you confidently and honestly say, “I swear on my life that I will not tell anyone.”

He nods weakly, while muttering, “I’m so going to get my neck cut for this.” And you have to fight the urge to grin triumphantly up at him, not wanting him to change his mind.

“Sir Brock is a uh,” he pauses and scrunches up his face slightly, “a consultant, I guess. The King has dealings with him. A mutual agreement, if you will. Though, just between you and I, the man is a snake, an efficient one from what I hear, but a snake nonetheless. However, since he always manages to get the job done, he has become slightly indispensable. But that could easily change, should he ever step too far out of line, or prove himself no longer useful,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “but that’s all I know. I, luckily, don’t have to interact with the oaf, as that isn’t my area of expertise. So whatever the King has him doing, I’m the last person who’d know anything about it.”

You nod, pleased you got anything out of Sam, but now even more intrigued by this Brock character. Or more so what exactly his agreement is with the King, what the King has him doing. “Thank you for telling me, Sam. I promise I will keep that all to myself,” you smile at him.

Earning another deep sigh from Sam, “I pray you do. I rather like my head attached to my body.”

You giggle at his dramatics as you both reach your bed chamber door, not even remembering any part of the walk here. Nor understanding how you reached your room so damned quickly. “Don’t worry, I will do everything in my power to ensure your head stays exactly where it belongs. Just as I will my own.” You remove your hand from his arm, “thank you for walking me back.”

“It was my pleasure,” he replies.

You raise a brow at him, “you mean, your duty.”

He chuckles, shrugging one shoulder, “same thing.”

“Can I ask you one more thing, Sam?”

“Depends what it is,” he raises the brow now.

“Who do I speak to about scheduling a meeting with the King, I need to ask him a few things,” you glance down at your hands, fiddling with your skirts nervously. Unsure why you feel so anxious all of a sudden, maybe it’s because you know what those questions are. And even though you want to see your family, something in you still urges you to stay here. “I know he is a busy man, but I would really like to know when I can return home,” you whisper.

But after a moment, Sam has yet to respond. You glance up, unsure if he is even still standing there, but seeing instantly that he is. However, he has the same far away look that Bucky had earlier. The one where his body is present, but he is not. “Sam?” You question, hesitantly reaching a hand out to touch his arm.

And just like Bucky, he seems to snap out of it quickly. “He will meet with you tomorrow morning.”

“What?” You furrow your brows, “the King will? Where?”

“Yes,” he nods, “and here, he will retrieve you from your room in the morning.”

“How do you know this? He didn’t mention any of this at dinner?”

Sam glances away from you, staring intently at the wall, “that I can’t tell you. So don’t even bother asking.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t,” he says sternly, “the King wouldn’t approve of me telling you about any of that. If you want to know, ask him.” He opens your door gesturing for you to enter, you do and then turn to him once inside.

He smiles and bows his head, “goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you say quietly back and then he closes the door softly, a click echoing through the quiet space.

You stand there for a moment, glancing around the room before you strip down to your shift and then climb into the large, plush bed. Your mind running a mile a minute with everything you’ve learned and experienced today. Yet, more so on the things you haven’t learned, the things that now plague your thoughts. All the new questions now left unanswered. All the oddities, the strange mannerisms, titles and interactions you’d witnessed today.

But luckily for you, before you can put too much weight into any of that, your mind realizes just how tired you truly are. And you quickly fall into darkness, but the most peculiar thing of all today, is the fact that the King's face is the last image you see as you drift away. Along with a feeling of sheer excitement that you will get to see him come morning. A smile forms on your lips at that notion, but then the darkness of sleep fully takes you.

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

@hopefulmoonobject @caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @imdiegohargreeves @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @marvel13princess @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more @interstellarmess @gabriella69816 @phantom-soilder @wordlesscaptain @captain-hammer-of-asgard @starstucknature @viarogers @pixieferry @kaithezaftig @the-kinkiest-goblin @hysterically-original @heyiamthatbitch @zlixlle

Logan Paul

I did some research for that Coffe Shop AU fic I did last month, because I got it in my head to set it in Japan, and I wanted to make sure I got Japan right, or at least right enough that it wouldn’t be super-obviously wrong.    The last time I tried to write anything set in Japan was when I tried to write Tenchi Muyo! fics, and I quickly realized I had no idea what I was doing, so I noped all the characters into outer space, where I could make stuff up.    

But that was 19 years ago, and now we have YouTube, with tons of videos about travel and tourism and local custom.    I often regard YouTube with contempt, but I have to be honest, it’s a bigger part of my life than I want to admit.   YouTube taught me how to change the headlights on my old Pontiac G6; it lets me watch all the good parts of Star Wars on-demand, and it taught me not to eat while walking around town in Japan.  

Anyway, now I get recommended all these videos about Japan, and they’re kind of fun to watch.   I checked out one about capsule hotels, because I could never tell if those were are really good or really bad idea.   I’m at least satisfied now that I could fit in one of those things if I needed to use one.   Then I came across this video about Logan Paul.   

In case you’re not familiar with him, Logan Paul is the jackass vlogger who decided to do his show in Japan for a little while, and while he was there he found a dead body in a forest and filmed it.   This drew international outrage, and from what I understand his popularity nosedived afterward.    I didn’t pay much attention to his story at the time, because there’s a million jackass vloggers on YouTube, and it struck me that the only thing special about him was that he had the budget to fly to Japan, and the celebrity to actually get in trouble for doing something offensive.    

Then I watched this video about him on Totally Not Mark’s channel.   It’s no longer there for some reason, but back in September he made this “mini-documentary” about Logan Paul’s attempt to stage some sort of comeback.   As I recall, the basic idea is that Logan’s really, really sorry for offending everyone, but he wants to be a famous YouTube celebrity again, so he’s going to do.... something... and return to his former prominence.   And he’s got a film crew making a documentary out of this quest, so that if he ever succeeds, he can put out this feel-good redemption story.  

The problem is that no one knows what the hell he’s supposed to do to get people to like him again.  I mean, I’m sure he still has fans today, but not as many as he did before, and he seems to want to just hit a reset button and go back to the way things were pre-Japan.   According to Totally Not Mark’s now-deleted video, all he seemed to be coming up with were various sports events for charity.    He had a couple of boxing matches against fellow YouTuber KSI, although I don’t know that either of those fights were for charity.    Judging from his Wikipedia article, he doesn’t seem to be doing anything particularly different from before.    Mark seemed to genuinely think he might have a shot at redemption, even if the path forward isn’t obvious.   

I found the whole idea kind of stupid.   Redemption isn’t about celebrities becoming celebrities again.   If Logan Paul learned a lesson from the consequences of his actions, if he reflects on his bad behavior and takes steps to be a better person, then great, but that doesn’t mean he gets a free pass from the public.    He had an act, and people bought into it for a while, and then he took it too far and it backfired on him.   There’s some things in life you can’t undo.   Watching Mark’s mini-documentary suggested to me that Paul still hasn’t figured this out, probably because he never understood how he got so famous in the first place.    It just sort of fell into his lap before, so he doesn’t understand how he lost it, or how it’s not something he can just recreate at will.  

Anyway, that brings me back to the video above, by “That Japanese Man Yuta”.   In it, he discusses all the other videos Paul made during his visit to Japan.    The video in the forest was taken down, and Paul made a video apologizing for that one, but all these other videos paint a bigger picture of a guy who basically made it his business to wander around in a foreign country and make an ass out of himself.  He horsed around in religious sites, places of business, in the middle of traffic, and pretty much anywhere else he pleased.   As far as I can tell, the joke was one of two things.   Either it was “Hey, I’m pestering these people and they just sort of stand around and let me!” or “Hey, I’m doing the same nonsense I usually do, only this time it’s in Japan!”   

Yuta takes the time to explain exactly why Paul’s behavior is so disrespectful, but it really isn’t even an issue of Japanese culture specifically.    I wouldn’t want him doing that crap in any country, including the U.S.   Seriously, imagine if he went into a church and just started throwing coins around.     Imagine if he went to a big city and ran around in a costume in the middle of an intersection.  There’s a scene where he waves around a raw fish in public, then he gets bored with it and leaves it on the back of a taxi cab.   That might be funny in a cartoon, or some fictional comedy, but he’s doing all this “XD lol random” crap around real people who aren’t even remotely in on the joke.   Really, the joke seems to be nothing more than “Look these bystanders have no idea what I’m doing and they’re confused and annoyed by my antics.”    Then he praises the Japanese people for being “so nice”, as if they’re being good sports about the whole thing.    Well no, they were just tolerating his behavior, and even if they were being “nice” that doesn’t make his behavior right.   

And that’s why his “redemption arc” is doomed to failure.    What Paul doesn’t seem to get is that the same man-child shenanigans that got him in trouble were also responsible for his rise to stardom.    There’s not some magic formula where he can keep doing his old routine and control people’s reaction to it.    And he can’t reinvent himself because the goofball persona was the only thing that made him a big deal.  No one got into this guy because he’s a good athlete.   They want to watch him dress up in stupid costumes and throw shit at people.     Only that’s no longer tenable, so I’d say his only choice is to accept whatever fanbase he has left as his new level.  

I don’t know that I have a point to any of this.   I just watched the Mark video and thought “Wow, this Logan Paul guy is an entitled shithead.”   And then I watched the Yuta video and thought “Wow, he’s an even bigger shithead than I ever imagined.”   I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that his athletic build, lantern jaw, and curly blonde hair are probably why he’s managed to survive as many scandals as he has.    He looks like the lead in some stoner comedy, and people want to root for him and overlook his flaws.    It’d be kind of interesting to see how he does when he hits forty, but no one will be paying attention by then.   

Review: The Tyrant's Tomb by Rick Riordan

Thoughts on The Cover

Well, if you've seen my previous posts by now you'd know that I'm not a big fan of loud and action-packed covers. I prefer classy, if not always subtle. But you might like it! See, Reyna is owning the bigger portion of it, which is a nice change. :-)

Ok to Low Points

Halfway through the book, I was STILL unable to "get" into the story

Literally, not much was going on for 2/3 of the whole book, which is very surprising considering:

The time between the release dates of The Tyrant's Tomb and The Burning Maze is the longest as of yet. Whereas other books within a series have come out within twelve months of each other, these two books will be released within eighteen months of each other.

.....and that even the most boring books by Uncle Rick had some silver linings here and there to keep you engaged. Even The Dark Prophecy had the gang arrive and settle in Indianapolis, visit the zoo and free Griffins and REVISIT the emperor. Here? Apollo and Co. escorted Jason's hearse into Camp Jupiter in a frankly insulting manner(more about that later), Apollo got sick, we see that the noble prophecies are being tattooed on Tyson's back, Apollo and Co. went on a lil' trial quest and returned, Apollo got more sick.🤷‍♀️ I was so confused I opened the previous books to see how far those stories had progressed by midpoint.

It got slightly better later on, but it doesn't change the fact throughout the 1st half of the book I just kept on turning pages SIMPLY because I wanted it to get it on with and finish the story. Sad.

2. The so-called Tyrant

I didn't see much tyranny, like...only 3 pages were spent in the Tyrant's Tomb and his company, bad old Commodus and Caligula had more appearances than Tarquin who re-appeared in the very last chapters only to get immediately vanquished courtesy of Diana.....yeah. That's that.

3. How Jason's final voyage was depicted

Uncle Rick doesn't write emotional crying scenes well.

People talk about peeing and pop chewing gum bubbles while delivering the hearses of valued, honored characters.

And I seriously wonder in what position and condition poor Jason's body was after all the drama his coffin underwent.

And based on the spoilery lines(which sadly turned out to be not spoilers at all) we saw in the Magnus Chase series I thought we'd at least get a Percy-Annabeth cameo in this, that Jason will have more of his closest comrades mourning and sending him off. Nah. Nada. Not even a mention of Annabeth. Then why did Uncle Rick mention things like Annabeth and Percy being at California and even Magnus joining them at their time of crisis? Utter puzzlement. And we were also robbed of Nico's reaction to Jason's demise, considering how much Nico valued Jason as a brother-in-arms and a friend. Let's not even talk about Thalia. Why, Uncle Rick? :-(

Which brings us to...

4. Plot Inconsistencies

Why do I have to talk about this in each and every book? :-( Seriously, why would you write about Percy and Annabeth going to New Rome to attend college and being broken hearted over Jason DURING the period of Demigod communication malfunction, only to have us know they have YET to travel across the country and when we meet them again it would still be at New York? And now the communication is working, proving that Uncle Rick conveniently forgot about the clues he conveniently dropped.

AT LEAST I'm glad one thing is consistent in the Trials of Apollo series, that when Zeus decided they'll stop meddling too much in demigod affairs at the end of Heroes of Olympus, he meant it and now it's super duper hard to seek a god even for dire needs, no matter how wonderfully (ill)timed that decision was, costing lives of valued heroes.

5. The Haiku-titles weren't amusing at all this time.

I found one fun haiku .

O, blood moon rising

Take a rain check on doomsday

I’m stuck in traffic

6. The whole Apollo-Reyna debacle.

I would say Uncle Rick pulled a clever twist by turning fan theories on their heads here, but it too way more plot space than needed and when he got to the "Gotcha!" part, I was not feeling it. For YEARS now, we heard abut this no-mortal-no-demigod thing over and over, and fans predicted it might mean Apollo's the one for Reyna. And when it initially seemed like it was the route that Uncle Rick was indeed taking, the only thought that circulated inside my head was; "Reyna doesn't need this completely random and unwanted baggage! Give the girl a dam break!!" But then he was like; "Lol nooo. You kids are wrong", but STILL I was not happy...well, for obvious reasons.

What's the point of this whole plotline? So unnecessary. I mean, the fans always wondered WHY exactly would Reyna think she needs a partner in her life, but now I see Reyna might not have had time to contemplate her personal life logically like WE had what's with her dramatic life. Of course the shallow gods would think her heart was something to be "cured" and Reyna never stopped to think that it's quite the opposite till Apollo provided her with a breather and reason. And to answer why din't she choose to join Amazons instead of Hunters is probably that she wanted to be her own person and not be under her sis the Queen once again. She'd indeed have the freedom, calm and few friends so she wouldn't feel lonely and bored with the Hunt. She might even choose to leave Hunters after she found herself in her own time. I get it. But the way it was dragged and executed was meh.

If Uncle Rick intended this plotline of Reyna to be empowering for female readers, in my opinion it was not. Yes, even a badass girl could have weaknesses, not enough self-confidence and wobbly life choices, but Reyna took too much time with her "Eureka!" moment.

It was funny while it lasted, at least.

“Lester.” Reyna sighed. “What in Tartarus are you saying? I’m not in the mood for riddles.”

“That maybe I’m the answer,” I blurted. “To healing your heart. I could…you know, be your boyfriend. As Lester. If you wanted. You and me. You know, like…yeah.”

HAHAHAHA. That Totally came from the left field Lester, even for you.

“Your girlfriend was pregnant when you had her killed?” Reyna launched another kick at my face. I managed to dodge it, since I’d had a lot of practice cowering, but it hurt to know that this time she hadn’t been aiming at an incoming raven. Oh, no. She wanted to knock my teeth in.

“You suck,” Meg agreed.

I mean, if THIS is not the ultimate deal breaker then what is? Apollo might have changed for better by now, but it doesn't mean we can overlook what he did. I for one certainly don't need a loveline for him in this series. I'm glad Uncle Rick drew(or at least seemed to have) a clear line here.

High Points

It took half the page count even for Uncle Rick's special brand of snark to return. Nonetheless I managed to find some good ones. Which is what matters, right?

1.

“So,” I said, making a second attempt at nonchalance, “are you and Thalia, er…?”

Reyna raised an eyebrow. “Involved romantically?”

“Well, I just…I mean…Um…”

Oh, very smooth, Apollo. Have I mentioned I was once the god of poetry?

Reyna rolled her eyes. “If I had a denarius for every time I got that question…Aside from the fact that Thalia is in the Hunters, and thus sworn to celibacy…Why does a strong friendship always have to progress to romance?"

Preach, sister. But then again I would have to ask did YOU have to swear to celibacy to prove your independence....which is sort of the point🙄..

2.

Even when I was a god and could speak any language I wanted, I’d never sung well in Italian. I kept mixing it up with Latin, so I came off sounding like Julius Caesar with a head cold.

LOL

3.

It was time to be helpful. I needed to be repulsive for my friends!

Which you're most of the time...the latter sentence I mean.

4. Don't we all relate? 😂

“O protector of Rome!” I read aloud. “O insert name here!”

5. And one more.

I bet Gregorix was wishing he’d pursued that business degree his mom always wanted him to get. Being a barbarian bodyguard was mentally exhausting.

.

Heartrending quotes.

1.

This was the source of all our communications troubles—one sad, angry, forgotten little god.

2. This was the wisest quote I saw in the book. The simple indescribable deepness of letting go.

“Good-bye, Apollo,” said the Sibyl’s voice, clearer now. “I forgive you. Not because you deserve it. Not for your sake at all. But because I will not go into oblivion carrying hate when I can carry love.”

Even if I could’ve spoken, I wouldn’t have known what to say. I was in shock. Her tone asked for no reply, no apology. She didn’t need or want anything from me. It was almost as if I were the one being erased.

3. I was saddened to learn about Julia's untimely loss, but I'm sure everybody had a meltdown moment at the following scene.

The old god’s face hardened a bit more, which shouldn’t have been possible for stone. “I see. Well. I’ve concentrated the last bits of my power here, around Julia. They may destroy New Rome, but they will not harm this girl!”

“Or this statue!” said Julia.

4. Honestly? I too forgot until Apollo pointed it out and then I had *shivers*! They're one immediate family, grieving over one loss that affects all of them in various ways, and having mixed reactions about each others the members who survived!

I shivered. How easy it was to forget that this young woman was also my sister. And Jason was my brother. At one time, I would have discounted that connection. They’re just demigods, I would have said. Not really family.

Overall Conclusion

This is the most bored-outta-my-mind I felt after reading a PJO universe book. Am I finally growing out of the Percy Jackson and the Heroes of Olympus fandom? Oh dear, I hope not. I can't imagine living without it and I'm SO not happy with this new development. Just as I feared, Uncle Rick couldn't keep it up after the excellent Burning Maze and now.....please, for your fans' sake who had been loyal for years, I hope at least the final book delivers. Just so we could at least part ways/go dormant with pleasant sentiments and a content heart.🙆‍♀️

So, what's the deal with Kingdom Hearts? I mean, it's a Disney/Final Fantasy crossover, right? Hard to see why would that cause such dedicated whatever.

I’ve had this in my drafts for a while, and given today’s the series’ 17th anniversary it seems like the time to finally get back and finish it. Simple answer: the music slaps and you just want the soft children to get to go home.

Long answer: Even now people joke about the baseline absurdity of a universe in which Donald Duck can go toe-to-toe with Cloud, and while I think 17 years in we’re past the point where it’s time to accept that this is just a part of the landscape for these characters, yes, that does remain objectively bonkers. It’s not a natural, intuitive combination like your JLA/Avengers, this is Mortal Kombat vs. DC Universe-level “well, I suppose they both exist in…the, uh, medium of visual storytelling” stuff, other than I suppose that they both tend towards fantasy in this case. And then that whole wacko premise got hijacked by Tetsuya Nomura for an extended epoch-spanning drama driven by labyrinthine, (occasionally literal) dream logic mythology where it’s genuinely impossible to tell at this point what’s being thrown in by the seat of the creators’ pants and what was planned out since day one, pretty much casting aside the franchises that were in theory the main appeal as relevant parts of the plot even as you still hang out with Baymax from Big Hero 6. Step back even a touch, and there will always be a whiff of derangement about the entire affair - it’s simply baked in at this point.

My controversial opinion however: it’s actually good. There are structural issues and awkward moments and aspects ill-served, I’d never deny that, but even diehard lifelong Kingdom Hearts fans tend towards prefacing appreciation with at least two or three levels of irony and self-critique. I suppose it’s in part a response to the general reaction to it I mentioned before, but no, I absolutely think these are genuinely good, ambitious stories build on a foundation that’s still holding strong. An important note in service of that point: Winnie the Pooh, maybe Hercules, and with III Toy Story aside, I have basically zero childhood nostalgia for any of the properties involved. Wasn’t a huge Disney kid outside maybe very very early childhood, and only dabbled with Final Fantasy after the fact (still intend to play through XV someday though). It won me over young, yes, but on its own.

The building blocks help: the characters designs are great, the individual Disney settings in their platonic representations of various locales and landscapes make perfect towns packed with quirky locals to roam through on your quest, the Final Fantasy elements are tried and tested for this sort of thing, the original worlds each have their own unique aesthetics and touchstones and come out lovely, by my estimation the gameplay’s fun adventure/slasher stuff even if it’s had ups and downs over the years, the actors largely bring it, it all looks pretty, and as noted, the score is as good as it gets. They’re games that look, sound, and play good made up of component parts that unify into a sensible whole. And for me, the scope and convolution of the plot that so many leap at as the easy target - with its memory manipulations and replicas and time travel and ancient prophecies and possessions and hearts grown from scratch and universes that live in computers and storybooks and dreams - is half the appeal; I live for that kind of nonsense. Not that folks aren’t justified as hell in taking jabs at it, but I’ll admit I often quietly raise an eyebrow when I see the kind of people I tend to follow having an unironic laugh at it given *gestures toward the last 40 years of superhero comics*.

All that through is ultimately window dressing. The most powerful appeal of Kingdom Hearts is I suppose hidden if you’re going by commercials and isolated GIFs and whatnot, and even the bulk of the content of the average Disney world, charming as they are. It’s deceptively easy to pick out something else as the fundamental appeal too; even if I’d call them incredibly well-executed examples of such the character archetypes it deals in are relatively broad, and while it handles the necessary shifts in its tone from fanciful Disney shenanigans to apocalyptic cosmic showdowns for the heart of all that is with incredible skill - and that might be its most unique aspect, and certainly a critical one - a lot of that comes down to raw technical ability on the part of the writers, appropriate dramatic buildup, and demarcation between environments and acts of the story.

The real heart of the matter, to speak to my typical audience, is that Kingdom Hearts in a profound way resembles 1960s Superman comics and stories inspired by the same: it’s 90% dopey lovely cornball folk tale stuff, until every now and again it spins around and sucker punches you in the goddamn soul with Extremely Real Human Shit. Except here instead of being lone panels and subtext, it builds and builds throughout each given adventure until it takes over and flips for the finale from fairytale to fantasy epic.

That can probably be credited directly to Final Fantasy creator Hironobu Sakaguchi suggesting to Tetsuya Nomura to try treating this weird gig seriously instead of as the licensed cash-in it seemed destined to be, since if this didn’t have a soul the target audience would recognize it. But in spite of that seriousness, it’s perhaps its most joyfully mocked aspect in its entirely unselfconscious dedication to making Hearts and Feelings and Light and/or Darkness the most important things in the universe that lets it do what it does. It’s childish in the most primal way, absolutely, but what that translates to is that there aren’t cosmic or personal stakes that swap places as major or subsidiary at any given point, because in this world they’re always literally the same thing. There’s no major relationship where the fate of a primal power or a last chance at salvation doesn’t ultimately hang in the balance depending on how it shakes out, and there’s no prophecy or ultimate weapon or grand scheme that doesn’t have direct, fundamental ramifications on the life of an innocent or the memories that define them or whether they’ll ever be able to find a place to call home. ‘Hearts’ is an all-encompassing theme, whether in strength of will or redemption or questions of personhood or the ties that bind us, and by making it a literal source of power, it lends personal dimension to the unfathomable universal and the grand weight of destiny to whether or not someone can come to terms with who they want to be or apologize to those they’ve wronged. It’s a world where emotional openness and personal growth ultimately works the same way and achieves the same results as doing calisthenics in five hundred times Earth’s gravity does in Dragon Ball. and it’s tender and exuberant and thoughtful enough where it counts to take advantage of that as a storytelling engine.

That’d be why Sora works so well as the main character, because he straddles the line most directly between those poles. He may stand out as a spiky anime boy when actually next to Aladdin and the rest, but when it comes down to it he’s a Disney character, just a really nice, cheeky, dopey kid who wants to hang out with his friends and go on an adventure and believes in people really really hard. As the stranger in a strange land he’s a tether to a wider, sometimes more somber and weighty world when he’s sticking his head into the movie plots, but when he’s in the midst of stacked-up conspiracies and mythic wars that make all seem lost, he’s the one whose concerns remain purely, firmly rooted in the lives of those connected to him. Other characters get to go out there into bleak questions of self-identity or forgiveness, but while he might wrestle with doubt and fear Sora’s the guy who holds the ship steady and reminds all these classic heroes and flawed-yet-resolute champions and doomed Chosen Ones what they’re fighting for by just being a really good dude.

Given superhero comics are my bread and butter it doesn’t come up much, but Kingdom Hearts is really about as foundational to the landscape of my imagination as Superman and company, and while 100% that’s in part because it came into my life early it didn’t take hold by chance. It manages its stakes and its drama in a way and on a scale unlike just about anything else I’ve ever seen (even prior to getting to the weird mythology stuff that’s so profoundly up my alley), and somehow the aesthetics and gameplay and dialogue and all the million and one details that needed to come together to facilitate that story joined together into something that’s become one of the most curious, beloved touchstones of its medium. It’s a small, lovely bastion of warmth and sincerity in a way that only feels more like a breath of fresh air with time, playing out over decades a bunch of kids’ journeys to try and find the people they love most and help them and go home together when everything in the universe seems to be against them. It’s special in ways that will for me always be unique and meaningful, and I’m glad it seems to have plenty more in it before it’s through.

And seriously THAT MUSIC.

Rebirth of the Dragon (After GOT / Daenerys Targaryen) Part 7

The ironborn ship had finally reached the mysterious city of Asshai and anchored on a deserted dock, where dozens of crates of abandoned merchandise and some abandoned fishing nets were dragging. Having dressed in her ebony dress and black cloak, Daenerys, accompanied by Kinvara and two soldiers from the Fiery Hand, descended from the footbridge and stepped on the crackling wood of the dock. Finally, on the mainland, she said to herself breathing a great blow, after almost a whole month at sea. Yara then went down, also escorted by two ironborn warriors, and also accompanied by Shen-zoan who volunteered to accompany them. Grey Worm and the remaining of the crew were appointed to guard the ship during the group's absence, who would come back for them tomorrow morning for the start of the inland expedition. Indeed, being too late to leave, Daenerys had decided that they would spend the night in Asshai. The young queen was still too tired to take a long walk, and had to sleep a little. Kinvara made no objection, and guiding Daenerys, offered to show her a safe place she apparently knew and where they could spend the night. Far too big to be able to follow his mother in the streets of Asshai, Drogon was forced to stay on the docks, bigger. The dragon gave a worried, almost childish growl when Daenerys came to him, caressing his muzzle with love and kissing him on the nose. She saw that Drogon was concerned, that he did not like at all the heavy and macabre atmosphere of this city. _ "I'll be back tomorrow, my sweet boy, don't worry. I'm in good hands." she said with all the affection she could have for her last son. Drogon moaned again, seeing her leave with the others, but had to resign himself to obey. Drogon looked around him, growling suspiciously against the shadows he thought he saw moving in the recesses of some dark alleyways. Shen-zoan, while walking, came alongside Daenerys. _ "Your relationship with this dragon is very surprising, my queen." he commented without passing this for a reproach, quite the contrary. _"Drogon is more than a friend, dear Shen ..." she replied, "he is my son, born from the fire, just like me." The traveler was interested in the story, and looked for something in his bag. Something he found and handed to the dragon queen, as a gift. A parchment, on which was drawn in black ink, a very detailed and beautiful portrait of Drogon, in a posture of majestic flight. Daenerys was impressed by the sense of detail and the elegance of the drawing, as if it were almost moving in front of her eyes. _ "It's .... it's beautiful." she said, thanking her new friend for this gift, compliment he received with a humble bow. _ "The beauty and majesty of certain things are such that they deserve to be immortalized forever ... Who knows ..... would you ever want me to make a portrait of you, one day, majesty?" he asked very modestly. Daenerys smiled, a little embarrassed, and blushed slightly after what seemed like a compliment to Drogon but also to her, keeping the drawing close to her. Shen suddenly looked a little embarrassed too, seeing her blush. _"Forgive me if my remark causes you embarrassment, my queen, I assure you that my attention was not ..." he apologized, but was interrupted by the thin hand of Daenerys coming gently take his. _ "I would be honored ..... thank you, my friend." was the answer of the young woman, to the great pleasure of Shen who was reassured. The queen and her escort left the wharves to finally enter the first street of Asshai, between two large black houses with closed shutters. Draped from her red coat with the hood on her head, Kinvara walked in the lead. Behind her, Daenerys, escorted on either side by the two warriors of the Fiery Hand. Behind, closing the march, Yara Greyjoy, her two ironborn guards and Shen-zoan. While walking, Daenerys could finally contemplate with her eyes the city of shadows. The immensity of this city was disconcerting. It was much larger than King's Landing. But despite its size, it seemed almost abandoned, few houses being lit, and the light of the few torches seemed to be absorbed in the darkness of the night. All the buildings were built with black stone, with a disturbing and greasy appearance. The mist had invaded the streets and alleys and snaked on the ground, forming a disturbing carpet of smoke. The architecture of the city was very strange. Palaces built next to brothels and other shabby establishments, and also many temples and other places of worship more or less frequented. According to legend, in Asshai, all religions and cults are allowed, such as the obscure and poorly known cults of the Black Goat and the Lion of Night, or a religion better known as that of the god R'hllor. All kinds of entities were venerated here, such as the moonsingers, the necromancers, the pyromancers, the bloodmages, or the most dreaded of all, the shadowbinders, who were said to be capable of giving birth to demons made up of shadows during very special rituals. The group met a few people, all of whom were hiding under the porches of the houses or in the recesses of the aisles, waiting in silence and watching the group go by without saying a word. Daenerys could see that the inhabitants were all very dressed, hiding the smallest part of their bodies, and were all veiled, wearing masks or hoods. Daenerys could almost feel their eyes on her, and did everything to try to ignore them and kept going, although they did nothing to try to harm her. It was almost as if they were waiting for her coming. Was that the case? Daenerys' group passed by the entrance of what looked like a temple. Daenerys take a fast look as she passed, she saw, with horror, a crowd of worshipers, chanting incomprehensible words and venerating an idol in the shape of a humanoid goat. One of the worshipers, the leader of the ritual, had covered himself from head to foot with blood, and seemed to be in a trance, convulsing while waving his arms. Yara swallowed when she saw that, just like Shen, and both continued without stopping. Everywhere, they seemed to hear like ritual songs and other incantations coming from the interior of the houses, all in languages ​​as varied as strange. What could be happening in this city? _ "What is this city of demons?" Yara sighed, notch, just like her two guards. Shen remained calm, but showed his distrust of what was happening here. Kinvara remained calm as usual, and stopped in front of a building in the center of a small deserted square. The sticky sign hanging over the entrance seemed to indicate a bazaar. _"Here we are." said Kinvara, who without hesitation, pushed the door to enter the first, and inviting the others to follow her inside, which they did, after a few seconds of hesitation. A smell of spices, but also a mixture of incense and other medicinal products came to rub their nostrils as soon as they entered. The place was of average size, but full of objects of all kinds. Small dead animals hung on the ceiling. Pots containing various medicinal products or for any other purpose. Many objects made of bone, wood and other natural elements apparently used for ritual purposes, and even sinister dolls. A little monkey, with red eyes, walked freely between the shelves, emitting curious little sounds against the visitors. Kinvara led the rest of the group to the bottom of the bazaar, where behind a counter, was a person bent to examine the inside of a dead black rat's corpse and extract its vital organs. The woman behind the counter looked up, and smiled at Kinvara, seeming to know her. _"My dear Lady Kinvara .... finally we meet again after such a long time ..." said the woman from the bazaar in a honeyed and deep voice with an almost seductive tone. She had pale skin, but looked as if she was wearing makeup all over her body and was tattooed on almost the entire face. Long dreadlocks fell on her shoulders, and she was dressed in a strange dress made of animal leather and wore around her neck a pendant made of skulls of sparrows. Her smiling gray lips revealed behind a teething as white as her face. Kinvara greeted her with a nod. _"I greet you, Heliora. I bring you some visitors to spend the night, and they will leave tomorrow morning with me." The strange young woman named Heliora listened, then her gaze was drawn behind Kinvara's shoulder towards Daenerys, who was looking around with an edge of suspicion. Heliora's face seemed to clear, as if she had seen a messiah appear before her. _"You ..." she whispered between her lips as she walked towards Daenerys, who remained frozen in front of the woman staring at her. Yara wanted to intervene, but Shen held her back, making her understand by the look that it was better not to interfere with the people of Asshai. Heliora, with her blackened-fingered hands, felt a little the face of the young dragon queen, examining her from head to foot. Kinvara let her do, knowing her merchant friend well. _ "You, so young, but already having suffered so many trials, beyond the very veil of life and death .... You, who have long been lost in a quest doomed to failure, but destined for something so much bigger ..... Daenerys of house Targaryen." Heliora spoke very slowly, mystically, every word seemed to materialize out of her mouth. Daenerys could almost feel her blood-red-iris eyes piercing her mind, as if reading inside her. _ "Y .... do you know me?" Daenerys said a little confused. Heliora smiled at her, with the same seductive air as towards Kinvara. Obviously, she preferred women to men. She also glanced at Yara, whose young ironborn queen did not seem to be indifferent and smiled her back. _ "The reputation of the breaker of chains and mother of dragons has reached the ears of Asshai. Everyone here knows who you are, even those who have no ears to hear or eyes to see." confirmed Heliora returning to Daenerys. Heliora, whoever or whatever she was, gave her goose bumps. _"Your friends can stay for the night, Kinvara, but you know you have to pay." Heliora announced, returning to her counter, while giving a small caress to her monkey who come join her. _"Of course." Kinvara kindly replied, telling one of her Fiery Hand soldiers to come forward, to give her something wrapped in a rag, which she put under the merchant's eyes. The latter removed the rag, revealing a special dagger. Daenerys gasped as she sees the weapon. It was the dagger with which Jon had killed her. Kinvara had kept it after extracting it. Daenerys felt bad and had to turn away from the sight of the weapon, backed by Yara and Shen. Heliora could not contain her joy at possessing this dagger now, the very one whose blade had been impregnated with the blood of the dragon. _ "Your payment is honest, my dear Kinvara." Heliora told her, confiding the object to his monkey, who went to hide it somewhere in the shop, out of sight. "You are welcome in my humble abode, my good lords ..... tonight you can sleep .... But beware, young dragon queen, because at every moment the night is dark and full of terrors." warned the merchant in a silly little sneer. Uncomfortable, Daenerys chosen to move and guided by Kinvara, goes to the room where she can sleep, while Heliora focuses again on her dead rat on the counter, tearing the heart with forceps. ******** A little later in the night, Daenerys, despite the gloomy atmosphere of this bazaar, had managed to fall asleep in a room at the back of the shop. The two soldiers of the Fiery Hand, by order of the priestess, would remain all night as sentinels in front of the door of the room. The two ironborn sailors had gone to sleep in the bazaar reserve too. Kinvara, who was not sleepy, had settled into a kind of living room, and was patient, sitting watching the flames dancing gently in the hearth. She was not alone because Shen was there too, sitting with his eyes closed, meditating. Also unable to sleep, Yara had gone outside, under the porch of the shop. Her water bottle in hand, the ironborn queen was nervous and alert, listening to each sound that was heard in the surrounding streets and looking constantly looking for any suspicious movement. The mist, however, did not help to see the area around the store. _ "Nervous?" suddenly said Heliora, who like a ghost, had arrived behind Yara, who jumped in surprise and sighed with annoyance. _"You should be careful, I could have put my ax in your head without wanting it." Yara warns, taking a sip. Undaunted, Heliora continues to smile and comes closer slowly but surely to Yara, who noticed it well. _"Oh, but I don't doubt it, a proud warrior like you," commented Heliora, her eye sparkling with a certain lust. Yara guessed it, and she liked it. Their faces are closer to each other. _ "You know ...." Yara sighed as she came to touch one of the dreadlocks with her fingers and pushed it away from the merchant's handsome face "... you're the most weird and crooked woman I've ever met in my fucking life, but I like this." Heliora did not wait anymore, coming to snuggle against Yara's chest, blocking her against the wall, their mouths meeting in a kiss more and more sensual. Without interrupting the kiss, Heliora rubbed her hand along Yara's body, then her thigh to finally come and touch the crotch, which made Yara smile naughty. _ "You're interested by what's in store from what I see, it's good, we're open all night." Yara quipped, eager to go further, as did Heliora. Having never done this with a woman in armor, it excited her even more. Both decided to go back inside, Heliora knowing a room where they would be quiet to continue without risking to wake the others. Meanwhile, in the room at the back of the shop dipped in the dark, Daenerys was lying in a single bed, but nevertheless clean and comfortable to sleep peacefully. However, the queen, asleep, did not notice the furtive figure silently approaching the window of the room, looking out onto a deserted, misty street. The form, dressed entirely in black and wearing a hood, glanced quickly through the window, catching sight of the sleeping young queen in the middle of the room. Still in the greatest discretion, the masked individual began to cut the glass pane with a blade, managing to make a hole in the glass large enough to pass a hand. However, he did not try to open the window from inside, but passed something through the hole. A manticore, a deadly venom insect from Essos. The deadly insect began to crawl toward Daenerys' bed, and slowly began to climb the sheet to hoist itself to the top of the bed and come up to the young woman, who does not suspect anything. From the wharves, Drogon, who was sleeping, suddenly opened his eyes, filled with a sense of danger and fear for his mother. In the living room of the shop, Shen-zoan abruptly came out of his meditation with the same strange feeling and turned to Kinvara. _"Yes ... I saw it too ..." she confirmed. Without further ado, Shen grabbed his wooden stick, jumped up and as fast as he could, ran to the room where the queen was sleeping. Alerted by the commotion, Yara and Heliora, who did not have time to start their night together, came to see what was happening and saw Shen pass in front of them like an arrow. The manticore had crawled and was now standing very close to Daenerys's face, getting ready to sting her neck with his hooked dart filled with a more than poisonous poison. The door to the room suddenly opened and Shen burst into the room, and without further ado, with a nimble stick blow and without touching Daenerys, pushed away the poisonous insect that crashed against the wall. Daenerys straightened up, panting and awakened by the noise, to see Shen armed with his staff and looked around the room vigilantly, while Kinvara and the Fiery Hand soldiers came in their turn. Kinvara sat down beside Daenerys on the bed. _ "My queen, are you all right?" asked the priestess. _"I ... yes, I believe, but what's going on?" asked Daenerys, more than confused. Shen looked everywhere, and that's where he saw him. The dark silhouette behind the window, which was starting to flee. Without saying a word and under the dumbfounded gaze of Daenerys, Shen rushed and jumped quickly and agilely through the glass of the window, breaking it into pieces and landing on his feet in the street, in defensive posture. Without further ado, he set off in pursuit of the man dressed in black who was running away with extraordinary speed. Yara and Heliora arrived in the room, noticing the facts and the broken window. Yara came to make sure, asking Daenerys if she was okay. Kinvara leaned forward and gently picked up the crushed corpse of the poisonous insect to reveal it in plain sight. Daenerys felt her heart beat. _ "A manticore ..." she says. She had already seen one of these insects, which had also wanted to sting her once. A trap set by the warlocks of Qarth. Were they them again? Did they come to take revenge? Perhaps. A few minutes later, while everyone gathered in the living room with Daenerys, still under the shock of this assassination attempt and supported by Yara sitting next to her. Shen ends up coming back to the shop, empty-handed. _ "He was going too fast." he said, "I could not catch him and he seemed to know the streets of this city like his pocket, but he dropped that." Shen threw a small object, a sort of small piece of iron that Kinvara caught in the palm of her hand and examined closely. Her worst doubts seemed to come true. A very special coin, from Braavos. _ "Whom does it come from?" Yara asked. Kinvara looked at them one by one, hinting at the worst of all. _ "The Faceless Men." confirmed the priestess. Daenerys was only more shocked. Like many, she knew the terrifying reputation of those assassins and their mysterious powers. For Shen, it also confirmed something more disturbing than he shared with others. _ "The Faceless Men never act alone. Someone wants you dead, my queen."

Do you why roger treated rick like shit during animals and the wall... I’ve just never understood why roger did that?

Obviously, this is all strictly a personal opinion and I’m going to give you the $.25 psychology answer. What the hell do I know, anyway? And I’m sure that many people will take great exception to the following. Again, please keep in mind it is JUST opinion. I think that Roger started treated Rick like shit before Animals and The Wall. I think that Roger was, sadly, a bully. There is a quote from Roger saying that he often attacked because he was afraid. This makes total sense to me; it’s like fear aggression in dogs. The ones that bounce and snarl and act out the most are often ones that are the most afraid. You hear stories about Roger from roadies and various other personnel that, as time went on, he was just unbearable, a tyrant with a hair-trigger temper.

I think Roger was a deeply insecure person and those people are often doubly cursed with outsize egos too. They vacillate between feeling they are miserable failures and they are under-appreciated geniuses. 

Nick and he got along fine because Nick was a mostly jolly fellow, funny and easy to get along with and only got back at Roger through humour. AND he was no threat to Roger, not musically or any other way. He was contented to let Roger lead and he was happy to follow. 

David was a different story. Even though he was younger, he was more self-assured, more confident in his musical talent. I think Roger was impressed by his talent and at least somewhat threatened by it. NOTE: this does NOT mean that I think that David is more talented than Roger!! I am only guessing a scenario in Roger’s mind. I think they got along in humour and in their quest for better music. I think David respected Roger’s talent but their temperaments were SO diametrically opposed, it was going to cause problems sooner or later. I think that David is a collaborator and when Roger started to move into the dictator role, and especially as he became more and more disrespectful, he angered David past the point of return. 

I think Rick, on the other hand, was the perfect target for Roger’s digs because instead of rolling with it like Nick or standing up to it like David, he internalized it. Rick was insecure too, especially as he became more marginalized in the music toward the end of Animals and The Wall. I will confess something that I know Rick fans will be put out by and I apologize in advance. I think there were times when Rick might have been very annoying to deal with because he tended (in my guess!) to take things to heart and then to sulk, rather than be willing to have a discussion. I don’t think he was very good at assertiveness which, as I said, made him the perfect target for Roger. Rick wanted (and deserved certainly) respect and acknowledgement for his musical contribution but was unable or unwilling to stand up for himself. 

I am not one of those people who wishes that the Floyd could have reunited. The more I read about their last few years together, the more I think it was a really fucking toxic situation and that is was much better for them to all get out. I think there was a lot of other stuff going on in all of their lives - divorces from long-term wives, problems with children, problems with drugs - which only exacerbated the issues between them. Sometimes I wish I could time travel and knock their heads together and say, “You know, if you all could just be more appreciative, more supportive, more accepting of each other, think of what you could do!!” 

But you know - they were all children brought up at the end of WWII in England. I think that time had a HUGE influence on a lot of the British invasion music we all love so much. England hung on by the very skin of their teeth and came so fucking close to being invaded and defeated. And I think one of the things that helped them to survive was Churchill exhorting them to suck it up and keep on going, never give in, never show weakness. THAT is the atmosphere in which Roger, Rick, Nick and David were brought up. No wonder they didn’t have the first clue how to handle the situation with Syd. 

Polly was talking in an interview about how little they all talk and David agreed, saying “We were never very good at that. I never said to Roger ‘these lyrics are fucking brilliant’ and I should have.”

I’ve always been disappointed with David’s going along with the firing of Rick but that is mitigated somewhat by how close they got in latter years. I think the two of them suited each other so much better. David said in an interview about the “On An Island” tour that Rick had really come out of his shell again and gotten quite “bolshie” which is slang for obstreperous and or a bit pushy. And David laughed about it, saying it was great. The love that was evident between the two of them, the mutual appreciation and happiness and that magical musical conversation they had……

Thanks for the ask; it was interesting thinking all this out. 

Psst... You should talk some abt your ocs if you want. I wanna know random facts about them.

hi anon!! i’ve been working on some world building for my ocs so i hope you don’t mind me dropping that in as well- im putting it under a read more bc i wrote a LOT-

also, i kept accidentally deleting this so i’ve had to rewrite this multiple times :’) but it’s fine, i like infodumping-

heres a link to my og post about them! https://enbees-and-lavendar.tumblr.com/post/642206592824213504/holds-up-these-ocs-hello-and-welcome-to-a-new

so, there’s 3 kingdoms, all w/different morals & ideas:

The Kingdom of Preocupat: their whole moral system is “as long as you don’t damage property you can go wild.” unsurprisingly, they have a lot of crime here-

The Kingdom of Cordeno: upholds kindness & respect, try their hardest to remain “pure” in the eyes of their deities (who im still working on-)

The Kingdom of Tenbrarum: ok yeah, this kingdom is barely a kingdom- the people call for anarchy & the royalty try to get them to stop

 these kingdoms are all in a conflict: Cordeno wants everyone to just chill & not have any death, Tenbrarum is trying to basically kill off all of their citizens in hopes of starting anew & Preocupat is helping both sides out, not really caring about their placement in it all.

 so its chaos in this realm- but there are groups from each kingdom gathering, trying to help the conflict to the best of their abilities.

 the ocs i posted about? they might be a group, but they definitely aren’t trying to help the conflict anytime soon- they might have incredibly powerful people in the group (which i’ll talk about soon!) but they would rather help out random travelers & small taverns in the woods than help the kingdoms

 they’re just a group of people who do the side quests of this realm-

 Aeolanyira (she/her):

 w/all that story stuff out the way, lemme talk about the gang! (also, they all either have ADHD or are autistic, this is mostly bc I self projected onto all of them so- im mentioning this bc im gonna talk about their favorite stims)

she’s dating Moonweb

a funky lil musician who travels around the realm, uncaring of consequences

she didn’t have a family, so she’s traveled around for as long as she can remember

she often makes pit stops at taverns to perform, & her music enchants anyone who listens to it

basically, when she sings, she has the power to control the elements & keep people/enemies drawn to her

she doesn’t really have that much control over these powers, (she has accidentally set a tavern on fire once) the most she knows now is when to stop singing

despite her not caring about consequences, she is rather wary of how her actions affect others, bc she’s seen the best & worst of people & she’d hate to be someone that caused hurt

she smells like cinnamon!

 Moonweb (she/he/they):

fav. stims: F L A P P Y  H A N D S. also, humming/talking to herself!

she’s dating Aeolanyira

a half elf, half demon who lives among the mortals to help do jobs for his father

although they never knew her mother, his father is actually very caring (for a demon lord) & usually sends them around so he can teach her various lessons

they actually met Aeolanyira in a tavern & decided to follow her around to see what she does on her journeys

he actually doesn’t have many powers apart from being able to fly & having heightened senses-

she prefers flying around, but ever since they’ve joined the gang he tries to walk more often so she can hold Aeolanyira’s hand 🥺

they tend to present themself as very kind, but if she doesn’t care about you then you’ll end up being a pawn in his game-

his scarf is the only remnant they have of her mother

fav. stims: flapping their wings around despite not flying & smelling cinnamon bc it’s a nice smell & reminds her of Aeolanyira

he’s dating Orsal

 

Whiskey (he/him):

an orc from the kingdom of Cordeno who follows the messages of his Goddess

he has a ton of siblings. his parents taught them all the messages of their Goddess. he ended up leaving bc the family started putting too much pressure on his shoulders

while travelling around, he ran into Aeolanyira & Moonweb, who were stuck in a ditch somehow?? he helped them & decided to stick around bc they looked like they could use some help

he doesn’t have powers on his own, however he’s pretty damn good w/a sword & can ask his Goddess for help

when asking his Goddess for help, he has the power to just slash the crap out of everyone (this technically goes against his morals, but he’ll do anything to help his friends)

due to his upbringing, he tries to keep kindness & peace first, but the gang definitely can make that hard-

his armor piece was a gift from 1 of his favorite sisters

fav. stims: tapping his foot & clinking his sword against stuff bc he likes the noises :D

he’s dating Whiskey

Orsal (he/him):

a powerful demon lord who was sent up to the mortals’ realm to basically babysit his friend’s child (Moonweb-)

he doesn’t have family, he was born out of the mortals’ rage

he honestly was just stumbling around the realm until he bumped into Moonweb, who was hanging out w/Aeolanyira & Whiskey in a tree-

he basically just gets his powers from people’s rage. someone’s intensely upset? Orsal gains power from that, using it whenever he can

when using people’s rage, he grows bigger & stronger. he can grow up to 15 feet & tends to stay at this size after battles

he has very similar morals to Moonweb: he uses people to his own benefit, but he doesn’t try to hide it like Moonweb. he’s very soft & protective of those he cares about tho (the gang 🥺🥺)

his eyes change color! when using his powers, his eyes go black & red, but outside of that his eyes are blue & green

fav. stims: destroying things & touching the others (not in a weird way- it’s more like him playing w/or stroking the other’s hair & wings)

currently single, but she has a secret admirer 👀

Zanna (she/her):

a powerful witch who lives in a cottage just outside the outskirts of Tenbrarum

her family’s dead- she’s alive bc she cast a successful spell that keeps her alive longer

the rest of the gang met her when they were on the run from Tenbrarum forces- she kinda just opened her door for them & was so amused by them that she joined their little journey

she’s a jack of all trades who’s basically learned all types of magic- she does grow tired when she does too much magic of any kind, so she doesn’t pop off as much as she could  

she specializes in healing & defensive magic, but she’s definitely very good at offensive magic

she’s been alive for so long that she’s basically grown desensitized to everything. she’s seen it all & she’s not gonna try to change anything anytime soon. the only things she cares about is the gang, so F in the chat for anyone who messes w/them-

bc her sleeves are really long, her hands rarely show. it’s become a joke w/in the gang that if her hands show, she means business

fav. stims: fidgeting w/her sleeves & doing flashy magic to watch the colors change :D

currently single, but crypt’s pining hard for Zanna 👀👀

Enador (crypt/cryptself):

a vampire who became the “familiar” of Zanna & is her personal bodyguard (tho not really since we all know Zanna can handle herself)

crypt’s family disowned crypt bc crypt showed way too much interest in other species- 

crypt hid crypt’s human form from the gang for a while- 1 night crypt just chose to shift & the gang was like “ZANNA YOUR BAT’S TURNED INTO A HUMAN” & Zanna was like “lmao i know”

crypt is honestly just a normal vampire- besides being able to stand in the sun & having crypt’s animal features pop up, not much is different

the most impressive thing about crypt is crypt can just transform in the blink of an eye- crypt just spreads crypt’s wings out & suddenly there’s a bat there

crypt’s been alive just as long as Zanna, however the 2 have very different morals- crypt just has SO much pent up rage, so crypt’s morals are basically “if you inconvenience me or my friends even just a little bit, i will choose violence & not hold back”

crypt has claws- i can’t tell you how many times crypt has accidentally scratched someone in the gang & had to apologize immensely

fav. stims: rocking back & forth & lightly chewing on crypt’s skin (Zanna didn’t know about it until later & that’s when she gave crypt a bunch of random things to chew on in the meantime)

...sorry for how long that infodump was- but i love them a lot & i might post fics about them! (that is, if i have the time & people like them-)

Treasure

@kurokolovesakashi

For AkaKuro Month! The prompt is Fairy tale AU, so I went with trapped in a tower with a dragon, but with my own twist.

Can be read on AO3 or Fanfiction.

Kuroko no Basuke

G Rating

Brief mention of nudity

2,032 Words

Characters: Akashi Seijurou, Kuroko Tetsuya, Momoi Satsuki (Ft. Aomine)

Summary: A new knight approaches Kuroko's tower. It goes better than expected.

"Oh dear." Kuroko remarks rather flatly.  

His reaction is more appropriate for noting an impending rain, rather than the sight of another knight preparing to storm his tower. However, he feels mild annoyance towards both phenomena, so perhaps it is quite fitting. If they were a messenger, they wouldn't have been so heavily armored, and nobody lugs around a broadsword for fun.

This knight can't be too unreasonable if they decided to make their approach from the forest though. While it is filled with many dangerous creatures and the terrain quite treacherous in general, it does provide excellent cover from the dragon's fiery gaze. The last fool who thought to take the mountain path directly to the western face of his tower saw their death approaching long before they had a chance to even catch a glimpse of the 'damsel' himself. Admittedly his keeper was feeling rather agitated that day, since that was the fourth challenger that week; usually the dragon is charitable enough to at least let them approach his fence, and give him a chance to send them away with their lives.  

Not that they ever listen.

Between their greed towards the ridiculous amounts of riches the dragon has amassed in this castle, their desire to slay a mighty beast, and the power they've attached to his name; many chose to ignore him and press on.  This usually results in the forest fauna coming out for a midnight snack on the remains if the dragon is out of sight. Kuroko doesn't like it when the dragon chars his lawn to burn the bodies, and the dragon refuses to actually eat them, so what isn't scavenged, is scattered along his grounds in warning.  

This knight is definitely promising though.

Rather than charging in blindly while the dragon is still out of sight, they slow their steed to a trot and carefully examine the area. Kuroko knows that his companion has taken to the skies, silently observing the situation. The knight is too far for Kuroko to read the insignia painted onto their shield, but the powder blue of their cloak, and the style of the horse's reigns match those of Teiko, his kingdom of origin. Despite their cautious pace, the knight approaches with absolute confidence. The vibrant red plume decorating their helmet wavers in the wind, and their cape billows artistically as they draw nearer. Honestly, Kuroko is rather impressed. Usually people don't have that kind of flair for dramatics anymore.

At this distance, the golden dragon insignia of Teiko is clear and just as they reach they the barrier around his tower, they pull their horse to a halt. The knight is silent for a moment, before they reach up to remove their helmet. Messy pink hair drawn up into a loose bun, and a feminine face. It seems to be another woman this time.

The knight's voice rings loud and true through the clearing. "Fair prince, I am Sir Momo! Momoi Satsuki! And I have heard tales of your beauty and virtue! They say you are held captive by a fearsome beast and I have arrive to rescue you, and offer my hand in marriage! Where is your captor?"

It's a pain to strain his voice, but Kuroko addresses the challenger from his window. "Fair knight, I thank you for coming all this way, but I fear your quest has been for naught! I am in no peril! And I am no prince! Nor am I looking to marry!"

Her eyes widen in surprise.

"...Then who are you? There are many tales of your royal status!"

"I was but a humble farmhand! I befriended the local dragon, and moved into this tower! People have come and gone, spinning ridiculous fables of increasing fantasy!" That's quite an over-simplification of the situation, but it's unwise to shout such a long and personal story out of a window to a potentially dangerous stranger.

Overall, he's not quite sure how things escalated to this point himself. At first a few travelers stumbled across his little abode and the dragon was content to watch from afar. But once he had almost been killed by a roving band of looters, he supposes some rumours had begun to spread once the survivors regaled their harrowing tales. The average wanderers stopped appearing, and the warriors and knights started flocking in for various reasons.

Kuroko is far from captive when he travels back into town every other week for supplies. Not that many can recognize him.  

"I apologize that you have come all this way! I can only offer my regrets." The last time he had bribed away an intruder, the dragon had sulked for days, curling around the tower's treasures possessively until Kuroko polished quite a few in repentance.

The knight shifts on her saddle as she thinks over this new development. "...Are you sure you require no aid? Are you truly unthreatened by the dragon?"

"Not unless you offer repair services." All of the rain has been rather troublesome. His wood fence is starting to rot from all of the moisture.

"Unfortunately, my main craft is the blade. My apologies for the disturbance then. Though I do hope you won't mind if I return for a visit? Someone as lovely as you should at least have human company every now and then." Ironically, he gets plenty of human company, it's just that they're usually hostile while the dragon is a reprieve.

She's been polite, outwardly nonthreatening and respectful, patient. Kuroko is about to grant tentative permission when a distant roar echoes in warning. It seems the dragon has grown tired of their guest. Thankfully she's aware enough to understand this unsubtle warning herself. "It seems I've overstayed my welcome. I bid you farewell, and may our paths cross again." She says with a sweet smile and a wave. Quite the juxtaposition from the worn armor broadening her frame and the gleaming blade strapped to her back.

Although she intended to take her leave, it seems her horse has other ideas. It continues to graze on the lush grass of his property, regardless of its rider pulling at its reigns. "Oh come on! Dai-chan, you can eat later!" The horse takes its time chewing through one more mouthful before it finally heeds its master's cries. And once the knight disappears into the forest from whence she came, the dragon is quick to land.

Kuroko rolls his eyes to himself once he is safely out of sight, and heads to his front door in order to greet the dragon in person, taking the spare cloak with him. He really is a sight to behold, gleaming wine-coloured scales and magnificent wings. Large eyes focus on him, one cranberry red and the other daffodil gold, both scanning for a hair out of place even though the knight hadn't even unsheathed her weapon. It's ridiculous and over-protective, but he can't complain when it's done for his sake. The dragon sort of sighs out a puff of smoke and a flurry of embers, a sign that he is satisfied with what he sees and Kuroko is permitted to move.

"See? I'm fine. But thank you Seijurou."

The dragon's lipless mouth is unmoving, but a velvety smooth voice can still be heard. "I don't understand why you won't just leave with me, and be done with these vermin."  

Kuroko puts a hand on the dragon's warm snout, each nostril almost half of his height and every exhale a visible heatwave. "As hot as you can keep the cave and as lavishly as you furnish it, I'd rather not actually live in a cave. Kagami-kun already claims that I'm so isolated I may as well live under a rock, the last thing he needs is validation."

The dragon releases a burst of hot air at the mention of one of his few friends. He's close enough that the twin jets of scalding steam billow out past him without harm, but it's still uncomfortably hot at this distance. He smacks the dragon with a frown in reprimand, but the gesture is more symbolic since he doubts it was really felt through such thick skin.  

"I can be human too." Kuroko is sure it's supposed to sound ominous or maybe even vaguely threatening, but he's learned to associate that tone with a petulant child. He absently resumes running his hand against the dragon's face. The larger, shield-sized scales covering the rest of his body are mostly cold and sharp, but his face is covered with smooth snake-like soft-scaled skin.  

He has to tread carefully, because the last thing he wants to do is offend. Inter-species relationships – romantic or otherwise – are always complicated. "...Yes, I know, but even I would like to see other faces every now and then. I'm not a jewel Seijurou, I need more than just safety."

He can feel scales heating beneath his palm, just shy of painful as the dragon shifts. He closes his eyes against the bright light but he can already feel a feverishly warm cheek resting in his hand. Two very human hands grab onto him. One rests overtop of his, while the other carefully grips his fragile wrist. It wouldn't take much to turn his joints into mush, break his legs and render him immobile – completely helpless and dependent. But the dragon is careful, his touch always almost annoyingly feather-light with his unspoken fear.  

He opens his eyes to meet red and gold.

There is a possessive look in Seijurou's eyes as he speaks, low and reverently. "I know human's require a lot of care to remain in optimal condition, but I can't help but place your physical well-being before your happiness. It's fine if you hate me. As long as you are alive and within my sights, I don't care what you do if it's not detrimental to your health. Your life is short as it is. You are my most precious treasure." The dragon places a tender kiss over the pulse point of Kuroko's inner wrist, and the human flushes a bright red as he recalls Seijurou's bare state. Seijurou himself always stands proud, completely unbothered by his nudity because he only wears what Kuroko forces onto him.

Without context, that whole speech would be rather concerning, no doubt that knight would come sweeping back to rescue him had she heard some of the other things he's said. But Kuroko knows that the dragon would never treat him like that. An object to be hoarded in the dark. He's merely voicing his opinion, the disgruntled grumbling of the guard of a particularly troublesome treasure. Kuroko pulls Seijurou into an embrace, surrounding himself with the dragon's heat. He rests his chin over the other's shoulder. "I know. You're my most important person too."  

In all of his years of life as a simple farmhand, Kuroko Tetsuya had never seen much value in his life. He considered it a good life, but like any peasant, he thought he wasn't worth more than the mud he toiled in. It was mere chance that he had stumbled across this abandoned structure filled with wealth, and perhaps some would call it misfortune that it turned out to belong to a dragon; but his restraint had been his saving grace, and once the dragon had located him further down the path the rest had become history.

It's another irony, one he thinks about every day, that a dragon – creatures notorious for their material greed – believes that his life is worth more than his weight in gold.

It's easy to slip out of Seijurou's hold, all hard muscles and soft grip. It's not as bad as it used to be, but he's still embarrassed that he was in the arms of a naked man out in the open. He carefully throws the cloak he brought over Seijurou's shoulders, one of the only articles of clothing he'll wear without a word of complain, and leads the dragon by the hand into his castle.

The lifeblood rushing through his veins, every breath he draws, every day for the rest of his days – all of it, Kuroko is more than happy to give him to cherish.

my spoilery thoughts on the last of us part ii

i apologize in advance for this super long post that you have to scroll past because i don’t know how to do the “keep reading” option thing

the only reason i’m writing this out is because i’m literally going insane from not being able to talk about my feelings for this game to anyone since no one i know actually cares lmao so this is mainly just for myself and anyone who wants to read this

the intro:

as i played through this game, i also watched a few playthroughs up until the point where i stopped to take a break. this was a game i couldn’t binge just because it’s so heavy and intense and sometimes you just gotta step away and take a breather

one of the playthroughs i followed along with was jacksepticeye’s and at the end he gave his review of the game like he normally does. i didn’t completely agree with everything he said, but for the most part i thought what he said lined up pretty well with my own opinion.

in particular, one thing that stood out to me was when he said that the introduction to this game shouldn’t have been Joel talking to Tommy about what he did at the end of the first game, but rather the whole flashback of Ellie’s birthday at the museum. then at “one” during the countdown to liftoff, the screen should’ve went black and fast forwarded to four-years-older Ellie opening her eyes in her home in Jackson (idk if i’m explaining this well, but Jack’s editor, Robin, edits this together and really sold it to me. if you wanna see it, go to the last part of Jack’s playthrough and look for it towards the last 30 minutes). i think this would have given us the time i think we all needed with Joel before he died and all the following flashbacks would be more focused on how/why Joel and Ellie’s relationship turned so distant - or hostile on Ellie’s part - and could’ve helped the pacing a bit.

Joel’s death:

potentially an unpopular opinion? but i actually like how Joel died. or uh lemme rephrase, i like the way they wrote his death. in this world of violence, hate, and brutality (actually doesn’t sound too off from our world but ahem moving on), i think the way he died was realistic, especially since he doomed all of humanity by saving Ellie in Part I. it just makes a lot of sense that someone would go after him and hunt him down

from the moment Abby and Owen stood over Jackson from the cliff, i was thinking: well theyre gonna kill Joel and since we’re gonna probably be playing as this girl for some (emphasis on some) of the game, they’re gonna go hard on the grey area of perspective in terms of revenge. which i was super on board with, but we’ll get back to that

when this game was first advertised, i didn’t know how i felt about a revenge story. it’s been told so many times and i’m never as hell-bent on revenge as much as the character is because it never feels warranted enough. that is, until i saw Joel die. watching Ellie pinned to the floor with a perfect view of his body, his face, beat to shit as she screams and begs for Abby to stop? haha that’s fucked Naughty Dog, thanks. but i do appreciate that they were able to make me just as mad as Ellie because of just how brutal his death was and how much i care, cared, about that character. no story has ever made me so incredibly enraged to the point i was with the main character full-stop to just destroy the perpetrator and take revenge. that’s why i think the way Joel dies is perfectly done. the fact that that cutscene is so horrible to watch for so many reasons just proves that it does it’s job.

Ellie’s half:

i actually don’t have too much to say about Ellie’s half of the story. this was what i both expected and wanted from the game, the whole game. while i can’t say i was having “fun”, because this isn’t really a fun game to play, you know what i mean when i say that this part was fun to play and follow.

side note: Naughty Dog’s improvement of your NPC buddy is so good, Dina and Jesse were both actually helpful, still not perfect, but also they’re not supposed to do all the work for you. i think the added layer that they could also get caught/seen and alert the enemy was completely unexpected and such a good addition to the gameplay (ofc this goes for Lev as well).

throughout the whole story, there’s kinda a problem with the pacing, and i know i’m not the first person to say that. however, i think the only big pacing issue i had with Ellie’s perspective was that kinda weird attempt of an open world map that they did with the gates. it felt a little unnecessary since i, and most other people, are playing for the story, not an open world with various side quest-like things. i missed the guitar cutscene with Ellie playing the guitar and singing to Dina (which kinda sucks, but i obviously just watched it after) because i just wanted to get back to the story rather than explore a large area. it was an attempt at something different so i won’t fault the game for that too much, but also stay in your lane lol so that section was a bit of a miss for me personally. i really liked the rest of it though, it had me engaged the whole time

Abby’s half:

ok. i have a lot to say about this half of the game since this is where most the problems occur.

first, let me preface this by saying that i don’t hate Abby. as i said, from the very beginning i knew she was going to have a, not justifiable, but an understandable reason for murdering Joel and that the game was going to be about seeing two sides to the same story. except, at the same time, i came here for Ellie, so why am i playing as this heterosexual? im mostly kidding. but fr i didn’t need the entire half of the game trying to get me to sympathize with Abby. i really didn’t need the message to be so spelt out for me, i got it from the moment i realized she was going to kill a favorite character.

i think my main gripe with the way they told this story is the way they formatted it. this story has all the elements to be amazing, but the execution just lacked the...finesse? idk if that’s the right word.

rather than splitting up the game into two halves, they could/should have integrated Abby’s story into Ellie’s so that when we cut from Abby holding the gun at Ellie in the theater to suddenly Abby as a young girl, it won’t feel so jarring when we have to start all over again with the upgrades and the timeline.

i really liked how we switched between them in the very beginning so why couldn’t that have just continued? in a book with multiple povs, the author often switches back and forth between every or every few chapters. you never see a book that starts with one perspective, then at the climax you have to start all over again from the other. at least, i’ve never seen this in any books i’ve read and i’ve read a lot ngl

maybe they forced us to stick with Abby for so long because if we’re forced to play as her, then we’re forced to get invested into her story. while this makes sense, it also really degraded at my enthusiasm for the game. it took me so long to just give up on the idea that we would be going back to Ellie relatively soon and when i did actually realize that was what was happening i was really disappointed.

instead of separating their stories, i would’ve liked to have Abby maybe one step behind Ellie the whole time so that while we play we’re just anticipating when Abby will finally catch up and it builds to this whole thing. instead, when we actually got to the point where everything was supposed to go down, we’re hit with whiplash and back to the very beginning with tutorials?? like did they just expect us to forget how to play since we switched characters?

i’m thinking, after Ellie and Dina jump over the barbed wire that explodes and Ellie’s knocked out, we could have switched over to Abby waking up in the WLF stadium. after Abby sneaks out of the stadium and you have that interaction with Jordan where he mentions Leah at the tv station, then we go back to Ellie waking up and tied to the table and we see Ellie kill Jordan.

after this i think Abby should have met Lev and Yara way sooner because i barely even remember what happened before Abby was caught by the seraphites it was so boring. so she gets caught by the seraphites AFTER we meet them through Ellie being shot through the shoulder (i still want to get all the first impressions of new stuff with Ellie because then it still makes her feel like the main character) and we meet the siblings and blahblahblah.

as a follow up, after Ellie kills Nora, which by the way, Ellie’s facial expressions are just so good with the red light while she’s just beating Nora to death? wow that entire interaction was so well done. anyway, after Ellie kills Nora, and Ellie gets back to the theater and the scene ends with her and Dina hugging, then we would switch to that whole section with Abby and Lev traveling to the hospital to get the meds and it would be cool if on her way in, Nora helps Abby and then on her way out, we run into a door we have trouble opening so we push and when it opens, Nora’s beaten up body is right there.

you get the gist. Abby’s story was barely intertwined with Ellie’s until the very end where she finds Owen and Mel dead. she doesn’t know that literally everyone else, except Leah, is dead too. i feel like that would’ve made the impact of Abby and Ellie’s fight at the theater more effective. affective? whatever i’m not an english nerd

i also think we should have gotten the flashback with Abby’s dad a little later when we’re expected to understand her character a bit more.

overall, i’m not mad about getting Abby’s side of the story, but i am mad that the way it was told felt so disconnected from Ellie. we could still get that whole arc of Abby going to the island to get Lev, she can still get her own story apart from Ellie, but she needed to have more of a interaction with Ellie’s actions.

Abby vs. Ellie, Abby’s pov:

i absolutely hate this fight. i really hate the way it was written and the way it happened. i get that the game is trying to give us Abby’s perspective and to show that in her point of view, Ellie is the villain in this story.

except, AGAIN, i don’t need this spoon fed to me!!! i KNOW that the world isn’t black and white and that people’s perspectives are different, but also? i don’t really care. both characters have gone through shit and both have done shitty things. neither of them are innocent, no one in this world is innocent (hence why i really dislike Mel, but that’s not really relevant), so it really comes down to which character you value more. in my - and most other people’s - case, it’s Ellie. i know the whole point of this fight is to make the player uncomfortable, but i wasn’t just uncomfortable, it made me legitimately start to dislike this game (spoiler for the end of this stupid-long review: i don’t completely dislike it)

the game really emphasizes that this is Abby’s story as much as it is Ellie’s and i get that, but this fight did not need to happen the way it did and the game didn’t need to be even longer after this. a lot of people say that we played from Abby’s perspective because Ellie would have killed Abby and that would be that (and she did, by the way, i relished watching Ellie get her revenge because while i don’t hate Abby, it was still so satisfying even if that wasn’t how the game wanted me to play). however however however, Abby wouldn’t have showed mercy either. she was absolutely going to kill Ellie if Dina hadn’t intervened then she was going to kill Dina if Lev hadn’t intervened.

here’s how i wouldve wanted it to go: we go back to Ellie’s perspective once Abby has the gun pointed at Ellie in the lobby and during their fight, Ellie would get the upper hand because she has weapons and shit (let’s be honest, Ellie would not win in hand-to-hand combat with fully-healthy Abby, we saw that first hand). Lev would try to jump in, but then Dina would disarm him and prevent him from escaping her grasp. then eventually Ellie would have the barrel of the shotgun pointed at Abby’s face and she would hear Lev tell her to please stop don’t kill her and Ellie would listen because the same exact thing happened to her (we could get a short flashback or something for more emotions, idk). so instead of killing Abby, Ellie would knock her out and her and Dina would leave and Lev would run to Abby’s unconscious body. this would end that cycle of revenge and because Abby has something more important to her than revenge (Lev), they would move on.

the ending:

if the game went how i just imagined, we probably wouldn’t get an ending that’s as depressing and open ended as it is, but i’m sure Neil and his team could figure something out, such as Ellie still has to deal with PTSD and Tommy’s really pissed at them and Ellie still looses her two fingers. so we get that little domestic sequence and the PTSD flashback and Tommy coming with his eye missing and showing the map. he leaves and when Ellie is about to leave in the middle of the night, Dina convinces her this time to stay and the next day Ellie tries to play the guitar one last time before giving up since she doesn’t have her fingers (i still want that last heartbreaking flashback, that one fucked me up i love it) and she goes out to leave it somewhere in the woods with it all ending with her walking away from the guitar that Joel gave her to symbolize her letting him go. idk man something like that, still not that open ended, but i’m just talking out of my ass rn

anyway that’s not how it went so we’ll stick to reality.

an open ending isn’t supposed to be unsatisfying, because that’s what this ending was. Part I does an open ending perfectly as we still get closure even though we don’t know exactly how things go afterwards (until now obviously).

after playing from Abby’s perspective for so goddamn long, it was weird to play as Ellie again, even while it was also a relief, and that makes me really sad. in the end, i did feel bad for Abby when she was literally left to starve and “hang” (but again i didn’t need 15+ hours in order to feel basic sympathy).

from the way they wrote the story, i knew Ellie wasn’t going to let it go and she was going to leave Dina and JJ. it made sense and i don’t think it was out of character for her, but the fact they did that in the first place and that Abby was the one to let go first? Abby got her revenge, she killed Joel, but Ellie never got that closure so of course she was going to go after Abby.

in the very end, Ellie is left with no one and Abby still has Lev and a group of fireflies to run to. Ellie’s biggest fear was being alone as she said in the first game, but that’s exactly what she’s left with. yeah life is unfair and i do like that the consequences feel real in this story, but i don’t think Ellie deserved to be done so damn dirty while Abby is living her best life. sure all of Abby’s friends were murdered because of Ellie and Dina leaving is Ellie’s own fault and i don’t blame Dina, but i mean we have no idea what happens to Ellie after this, where she goes. it at least feels like she’s on the road to eventually being relatively okay, as okay as you can be in this world.

i can’t completely articulate how i feel about this ending, even after three days having finished playing. all i do know is that while it’s realistic how Ellie’s story ended, i would’ve liked for Abby to get the same treatment. for her to not actually find the fireflies through the radio and escape from the Rattlers only to have no where to go so that, just like Ellie, revenge cost her everything and we don’t know where she went after.

maybe because Abby’s story was pretty much wrapped up and Ellie’s wasn’t, they’re planning for a trilogy, but i guess we’ll see.

the tldr;

this game has all the elements it needed to be amazing overall imo, i just wish they were all utilized Better. the reason it’s so hard to figure out how i feel about this game is because it has so much potential that just never came through and i’m really jealous of all the people who were blown away by this story. it’s still a good game though, but a 7/10 seems too high and 6/10 seems to low. ig it’s a 6.5/10 for me.

thanks for reading if you made it this far

For Asgard (Chapter 24/?)

Summary: What if Odin had banished Loki to Earth instead of Thor? The story of how you, the Reader, meet and help Loki on his quest to return to Asgard.

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty-One Twenty-Two Twenty-Three

Thanks to the special permission given by Frigga, you were granted the luxury of being able to leave the palace the following day to explore the golden city of Asgard itself.

It's just as beautiful as you remember it.

You stroll down the immaculate cobblestone streets and meet very friendly locals along the way to the grand marketplace. It is here that you hope to find a small, yet perfect gift to bring back for Loki. A little something to represent a new beginning. To maybe, finally, leave the past in the past and start again. As new people.

As you pass a stand selling golden apples, you spot the jackpot you were looking for – a table of wonderfully timeworn Asgardian books! You scour through each stack, looking for just the right one. Oh, look! This one looks particularly appropriate. It's about a suave, trouble-seeking knight and his kind, but kickass princess and their various adventures on the run.

After you pay the kind woman behind the table (with the generous amount of money Thor insisted on giving you for your time here), you're about to turn back to get a better look at those golden delicious apples (pun intended) when an odd and familiar voice floats in the air behind you.

“You will be consumed...”

A little wiry haired woman walks behind you in passing and looks back to make eye contact with you. It's the old hag. The sketchy old broad who rightly predicted everything that has happened since you met her.

Even the Aether as it would seem.

Because initially, you had thought the final words of her prophecy had meant you were consumed with love for Loki. If only you'd known how literal the hag's words would be...

“Hey!”

Her witchy smile turns up and when you make a step towards her, she bolts through a crowd of people. You apologize while pushing your way through all the bodies, but you need to catch this witch. You demand answers! Could this have been prevented? How could she know all this? Was she always watching you?

The little old witch runs with the speed of horse as she leads you through a maze of dark Asgardian streets. Now you're gaining! You might just catch her!

Rounding the next corner a little too fast, your foot catches on a stone poking up from the road and you stumble into a tall body.

“Oof!” says the stranger.

“I am... so sorry. I should have been looking where-” You look up at what is the most gorgeous, towering blonde woman you've ever seen. Does Asgard have supermodels here, too? I mean, come on! The true beauty looks down at you with her jade green eyes and says, “Sweetie, you must be careful. That crazed witch lives just yonder. Come with me away from this district.”

“But I need to ask her something! I have to know-”

“That thing is positively a loon,” the woman insists with a laugh and pulls you by the hand back the way you came. “Pay no attention to her.” Once re-entering the marketplace again, she furrows her brow at you for a second in thought.

“Are you not the mortal woman taking refuge in the palace?”

“Yes, but how did you-?”

“Word travels fast around here. Trust me.” Her smile and charm is almost too dazzling. But in a good way, you think. Maybe you'll get to have an Asgardian friend while you're here! Besides Thor, of course.

“Are you be heading back to the palace? I happen to have a business matter to attend there, myself,” she says sweetly. “Would you accompany me?”

So delightful.

“Absolutely!” you agree. “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't get your name.” You tell her yours first for good measure. If you had blinked, you would have missed a split second of a curious expression appear on her face as you do so, but you have no clue as to why.

“Pleasure to meet you,” she says, tossing her blonde locks back. “I am Amora of Asgard.”

When you ladies reach the palace, all the guards whom you pass along the way to the Great Hall bow their heads slightly to Amora and ogle her as she saunters by. Who is she? One of the guards escorts her to Odin and Frigga at an epic battle strategy table.

“My liege,” he says, “I present you, Amora.”

The All-Father lights up. Well, as much as this grump can, but it's all too apparent to you.

“Amora!” Frigga says at seeing the blonde bombshell. “We have not seen you for centuries! My, how you have grown!”

“Frigga, my Queen,” Amora takes the Queen's hands in hers, “It has been forever and a day.”

“We must throw a feast in honour of your arrival. Tonight!” Odin says with proud finality.

How come she gets a feast upon arrival?

“Please, my King, it is not necessary,” Amora politely tries to decline. “I have come to humbly ask the All-Father a dire favour.”

“Feast with us and I shall listen,” Odin says firmly. “Guards, show our lovely Amora to the finest guest chambers.”

I take it I'm not in the 'finest guest chambers'...

“Thank you, good Odin,” she says, “but I do believe I still recall where they are.” Amora turns and gives you a quick wink. You can't help but jog a few steps to catch up her out of the Great Hall.

“How do they know you so well?” you can't help but ask. And like you so damn much? Who are you? Amora gives you a cheeky side glance.

“I used to, what do you mortals say? Date? Yes, I used to date the Prince of Asgard.”

Wow, I wonder why Thor let her go? You can only imagine the incredibly blond babies they could have had.

“You used to date Thor? Well, he is a pretty nice guy.”

There's something funny in the way Amora laughs.

“No, Sweetie, I used to date Loki.”

Thank the gods dinner is over.

Yes, the food was amazing, but the whole thing was weird as hell. Amora barely ate anything, while Thor stuffed his face like a wild animal beside you (except with him at least you found it endearing, unlike Odin at the head of the table – yikes). You could tell Amora was looking for an in to ask Odin about her supposed favour, but could never time it right. She sat across from you so you had kept a watchful eye on her all evening. More than once, her delicate foot brushed against yours under the table, to which she would keep uttering, “Apologies, Sweetie.” It also felt like Thor was trying his hardest to not pay any attention to the head-turning woman.

“Now, dear Amora,” Odin says, wiping the cooked boar off his beard. “Please enlighten me of this favour you spoke of earlier.”

“All-Father, my sister is in grave danger. More so than in the past...” Amora explains. “She has been taken by the Dark Elf known as Malekith. I know not what he wants with Lorelei, but-”

“The Dark Elves are dead,” Odin states coldly, while Thor shudders at the name Lorelei.

“Pardon my saying so, my Lord, but you are wrong. He has her and though we have had our many quarrels as sisters, she is just that. My sister. I must see her safe and I come to the house of Odin to seek your help against this fiend.”

Odin ponders stoically. It's difficult to read him. Finally, he speaks, “As I have said, the Dark Elves are dead.” The King gets up from the table and takes his leave. Frigga departs too, but not before smiling apologetically to Amora. To avoid the awkward air, you slip away to your chambers leaving Thor with the woman. Maybe he would speak to his father for her?

After a relaxing while of letting the food digest, you think now is the perfect time to visit Loki and bring him his gift. Initially, you had wondered how you might actually give him the book, but now a better idea came to mind. You would use the enchanted necklace to visit him in his cell, sit as close to him as possible without touching so as not to disrupt the illusion, and go on to read the book along with him. It was the perfect excuse to spend more time with him. He's probably extremely lonely in there all by himself. And surely he's come to terms with his mistakes from the past.

Right?

And in addition to the gift-giving, you will make sure to subtly ask Loki about this Amora woman. Had he loved her? Had they ever...?

Ugh, why hadn't he ever mentioned her before?

You clutch the book in front of you, unable to contain your growing excitement to see Loki's face when you show him what you've picked out for him. The necklace begins to glow around your neck as the room around you dissolves into to a whole other – the prison cell.

But, but-

But she's already here. Amora. And she's getting horribly close and cozy with Loki though not physically touching. Amora giggles at something Loki may have said and the sound of her laugh is so sickeningly cute that little woodland animals should be frolicking around her.

You feel sick.

She's probably trying to rekindle what she had with him. And by the looks of it, Loki is enjoying her company. How could he not? When she looks like that...? When Loki finally sees you there, he stands up from the table he was leaning against and starts to take a few steps toward to you. Your body goes tense and freezes up.

“I got this for you.” The sentence comes out robotically. “I'll leave.”

“Wait-” Loki says and tries to grab your hand, even though it's pointless. However, he ends up grabbing the book instead, and somehow a transference is made through the object as you dematerialize from the room. Back now in your chambers, mysteriously no longer with the book in hand, you simply stare at the wall for a moment. Soon enough, you find yourself breathing like you're running a marathon even though you're only pacing the floor. You stop and fall back on the bed and stare up at the golden canopy.

You aren't sure to whom you say this, but the words come out a whisper, “Why?”

Part 25

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