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suzukiblu · 2 months

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WIP excerpt behind the cut; Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones (yes, including the supervillain one).

“Why does Superman have civilian clothes?” Match asks instead. Thirteen–pauses, then just shrugs.

“Ask him,” he says, which means he knows and is just being an asshole. Figures.

“More thorough scans would be helpful,” Jor-El says as they approach a very large . . . well, Match genuinely doesn’t know. It might be a computer. There’s a screen involved, at least. The rows of crystals underneath said screen are definitely not a part of any kind of “computer” he’s ever seen before, but it’s still the likeliest theory he’s got. “The infirmary is not currently optimized for cloned lifeforms, but we should be capable of extrapolation where necessary. And the Fortress’s programming is certainly familiar with Kryptonian-human hybrids, at this point.”

Match doesn’t respond, considering how obvious a statement that was. His genes are functionally identical to Thirteen’s, after all, so of course Superman’s already familiar with his physiology. Well–of course he’d have access to Thirteen’s files, more accurately.

“Um,” Thirteen says, frowning in confusion. “It is?”

Match cannot believe how incredibly stupid his gene donor is. Is Thirteen somehow under the impression that advanced alien technology can't access Cadmus’s files? Hell, the Agenda can get into those with minimal effort. Cadmus’s lab security is not impressive. He's walked right in the front door enough times at this point.

“It is, yes,” Jor-El agrees. “If you could hold still for a moment, please. Both of you, ideally. We may as well scan you as well, Kon-El.”

Match–frowns.

Wait. If the Fortress already has Thirteen's files, then why . . .

A pale blue-white light materializes from the crystals beneath the screen and pans over both him and Thirteen. He doesn't feel any hint of warmth from the light or hear anything, and there's no pain.

In addition to the pain he's already in, he means. Obviously.

The whole process seems very . . . simple, for a DNA scan. Not involved enough.

Not–what he would've expected.

That's all.

He assumes this is just a first step, and the actual analysis will involve something more invasive or–

“Scan complete,” Jor-El announces as the light flicks off. “Genetic profiles now on file for Kon-El and the as yet unnamed new member of the House of El currently classified as ‘Match’. Proper name impending.”

Match has absolutely no idea what to say to any of that.

“I think the AI is malfunctioning,” he says to Thirteen, who scowls at him.

“Rude much?” he says.

“It just called me a ‘member of the House of El’,” Match reminds him dubiously.

“. . . maybe Kal can run a virus scan or something,” Thirteen mutters under his breath with a grimace. Match resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's a gesture he only ever started doing to impersonate Thirteen anyway.

“All Fortress systems are currently running at peak performance,” Jor-El says like a malfunctioning AI would even be an accurate source, then gestures off to the side. “The basic medical supplies are this way. Please follow me.”

“The damage is minimal,” Match says. He's healed from worse without wasting medical supplies. The burns aren't even third-degree. Superman can't possibly want to spend actual resources on him, much less anything that would presumably need to be replaced or recharged later.

“Then treatment will also be minimal,” Jor-El replies matter-of-factly before heading off. “This way.”

He's definitely malfunctioning.

Thirteen follows Jor-El, though, and Match doesn’t know what else to do, so he does too. Either way he doesn’t want Superman to catch up when he’s by himself, so . . .

He doesn’t even know what Superman is doing right now, aside from presumably making whatever call he needed to make, and who knows what that’s about or for. Maybe he’s warning the Justice League about the likelihood of the Agenda causing problems for them, publicity-wise. Or . . . something to that effect, anyway.

They’ll take the opportunity to, he’s sure. The Agenda doesn’t miss opportunities like that.

The infirmary is sparse and open and both laboratory-bright and laboratory-sterile, but still . . . off, somehow. Something about it just seems . . . off.

Match isn’t sure what, exactly.

Maybe it’s just that he can’t smell blood or bleach.

Jor-El instructs him through using the cleaning wipes and disinfectant spray and strange alien bandages from the supplies–Match, like usual, uses his tactile telekinesis to keep himself from flinching when it hurts–and Thirteen tries to help, which is irritating. Match glowers at him until he backs off, which takes twice as long as it should.

Superman probably wouldn’t appreciate him killing Thirteen, after all the fuss. And Superman’s . . . in charge of him now, he thinks. Technically. Probably.

For now, at least.

The Agenda will want him back, so . . .

So for now, yes. Until the Agenda reclaims him and disposes of him as a failed experiment.

Superman would be–harder to reclaim him from, though. Harder than government custody. Maybe even harder than the Justice League in general, because Superman by himself doesn’t necessarily have to answer to the same specific pressures the whole League altogether would.

So if he does . . . whatever Superman wants him to do, exactly–if he does whatever makes Superman want to keep him, for whatever reason Superman decided he wanted to keep him to begin with . . .

He won’t be disposed of as soon, if he does that. Eventually Superman will change his mind and the Agenda will take him back, but–only eventually.

Not yet.

So he just needs to do that.

Match can do that. Superman can't be any harder to please than the Agenda. He . . . thinks he can't, anyway.

Superman tolerates Thirteen, so . . .

#wip: clark panic-adopts his teenage clones

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j-jinxee · 3 months

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CANARY ☆

TYPE - Husker x Reader

WARNINGS - Mentions of possession, alcohol, swearing, cannibalism.

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Background info - Alastor owned your soul, and a club. An underground club for only the finest cannibals and higher-ups, but you had no idea why he voluntarily worked here.

Another night, same old shit. Alastor would summon you an hour before opening, and watch you rehearse from backstage. Silently standing there smiling to himself, humming along to whatever tune was playing at the time. He used you as entertainment for his club, even though it was more like an underground black market. Overlords and higher-ups making deals every which way, it was sickening hearing what some of them would talk about.

You'd met everyone at this point, and everyone had met you. Even if no one knew your actual name, they wouldn't care anyway, because all you're known for is being Alastor's little song bird.

The only one that was still a mystery to you, was Husker. Why the fuck does he even work here? Does he seriously like serving cannibals and overlords that much that he chose to work here full fucking time? He always showed up 10 minutes before opening, came in through the back door and made his way over to the bar. Prepping glasses and bottles for the guests to come, does he actually like this job? It was sickening, you were here against your will but he just strolled up every night like it was a tea party. He never glanced at you, not before opening, not during the night, and not after work. As much as he disgusted you, you yearned to know more about him aswell.

A main reason you've never talked to him before is because there was always some rich old man who'd buy you drinks for the night, so you never ended up even needing to walk in his vicinity.

It'd be two years, two entire years and you'd never even spoken to the man, what's his deal? You thought you'd try and catch him on his break tonight, you'd simply have to refuse someone's offer to buy you a drink, and escape out the back door without Alastor noticing. You had multiple breaks while he only had one, so it was an easy job on your end.

- time skip asf -

A man you couldn't bother to remember the name of approached you as you stepped off stage. Offering to buy you a drink, just like he has a dozen times before. You politely declined and said you weren't really in the mood for a drink tonight, thankfully he wasn't pushy or invasive and left, wishing you a good rest of your night. Maybe you should ask for his name actually.

Now where is that barkeep?

As the other poor girls who also made the mistake of making a deal with the radio demon stepped on stage, you silently made your way out the back door. You saw him exit about five minutes ago, and his break is only 15 minutes, so you needed to go now if you wanted an actual conversation with him.

The back door lead straight out to an alleyway, only luminated by one flickering street light. The feline was seen leaning against the right side of the way, cigarette in his right hand, left hand in his pocket. He heard the door open and shot a glance your way, probably the first time you've ever seen him look at you.

His golden eyes almost looked as if they were glowing in that dim lit alley. Not knowing how to greet him, you just said what came to mind.

"Hey pussy-cat" even if you didn't mean it to sound degrading, it definitely came across that way. Even if you thought his choices were disgusting, you still wanted a chance to talk to him.

"Hey song-bird" he didn't know your real name either, song bird was a teaser. It felt even worse than when people called you Canary, especially since he said it without even facing you.

You walked closer to him, now leaning against the wall opposite to him, attempting to make eye contact.

"Don't mean to sound rude but, what's your deal? How do you know Alastor?" You thought it'd be best to just get to the point, he doesn't seem like the type to enjoy small talk.

"What's it to you?" He asked before raking another drag of his cigarette, still not meeting your eyes.

"Just curious I guess, I've seen you here for two years and we've never spoken" you stated your reasoning.

"We don't need to, we're both just on that fuckers leash, tryna pay our debts. I thought it'd be better not to bother you." Wait, what? He's under Alastors contract too?

"But you come here willingly, every night. While me and the dancers get summoned against our wills."

"You think just because I come here myself means I actually want to work at this sadistic shit hole?" He finally met your eyes.

"You're a good performer y'know. You're singin' is the only good thing about this sickening fucken joint."

"Guess I never thought of it that way" he was right, if he was sick of getting teleported against his will, I guess he would just get here himself instead. Alastor had to summon you and the other girls, because otherwise you wouldn't show up.

All that could be heard where faint sounds of sirens and gunshots from miles away, really giving the night an atmosphere, before Husk spoke.

"Thanks, you're drinks are pretty good too, pretty much the only thing that gets me through the night" you smiled.

He chuckled quietly. Throwing his cig on the ground as he started making his way back inside "Cya later Canary"

"Oh it's uh.." you started saying, he turned around. "It's actually [name], Canary is um, what Alastor gave me..."

"Hm, cya later [name]" he said with a slight smile as he entered the club once more.

You trusted him with your name after having that conversation, now knowing you probably weren't gonna accept as many free drinks as before.

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Rahhh I hope this is good and like easy to picture like how I did in my head yk haha.

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antimony-medusa · 6 months

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It’s very interesting hearing you talk about rpf dynamics in the myct fandoms. I’m a casual enjoyer of it and only follow a few people in the fandom. The boundaries thing is just so weird to me bc rule 34 is a thing, people are gonna do what they want to do. Every other fandom I’ve interacted with has had the rule that fandom stuff is for the fandom and shipping and rpf aren’t things regulated by the cc’s. Going up the the person and asking about their boundaries feels worse to me than just writing or drawing whatever it is that you want and then just putting it in the proper tags or website on the internet so that the cc’s won’t find it.

Yeah. I agree.

I think the whole notion of boundaries started in a good spot, with not wanting to make the creators uncomfortable, which is a laudable goal! And with this fandom being really close to RPF, it's the sort of thing that you think about if, if you're sort of inventing a fandom from first principles and not checking in to how actual ethical RPF fandoms have learned, painfully, how to work. (First rule is to NOT SHOW THE PERSON THE RPF, the second is that we all know that it's fictional and not real truthing about the person, and the list goes on. I don't believe MCYT is truly RPF, but it's close enough that I think we wouldn't do badly to adopt RPF fandom principles from people who already know the pitfalls to avoid.)

And then we had, as a neutral statement, unprecedented access to the creators through TTS and Twitter, so while I might have the thought "I hope this doesn't make this actor uncomfortable" I'm not likely to be able to actually get in contact with the guy playing Steve Rogers— But I CAN get in touch with the guy playing Technoblade. (or y'know. I could. Anyways.) So people could start to show up and ask things, and then that became normalized, and then questions that really are rude if you think about it for a second ('what are your feelings on shipping?' why are you bringing up shipping— maybe they don't want to talk about it—in a context where the person can't avoid it?) get followed by the same questions over and over again, and both more petty (what do you feel about scars) and more invasive (how do you feel about age regression?) questions, until it's just a constant barrage of the person being asked to weigh in on things they might wish to not look at! But we're shoving it in their face!

And then this whole thing combines really badly with the parasociality of the fandom, with people feeling like they actually know these streamers and they're friends. You get people cruising Ao3 (a thing the streamers know not to do) going "how would I feel if this was about me, like it's about my friend streamer", and then they go out and send death threats and doxing in the defense of their friend streamer, and you get people writing for the approval of their friend streamer and convincing themselves that their friend streamer really approves of what they're doing and they'd love to read it, and suggesting things like a QSMP fanfic library, and you get people bringing up fanfic to their friend streamer in their chat and comments, both in the sense of "isn't this horrible please condem it" and "isn't this great don't you like it", and in all cases that behaviour, throwing all this information in their faces, is the thing that I think is inappropriate to do to a real person.

Just let them make jokes and play block game. If we're getting a little too into it and wriitng royalty au epics, we should not bring it up to them. This seems straightforward to me.

#discourse #fandom meta

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mckiwi · 3 months

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Heat of the Moment

To Read on AO3

"Heat of the Moment": Asia, 1982

Something is invading and killing the villagers of Jotunheim. Now sitting as king of Jotunheim, Loki reluctantly summons Stephen to help him save his kingdom. Stephen gets to prove magic isn't the only thing he's good at.

Genre: Comedy/Adventure/Murder Mystery

Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki Laufeyson, and Thor Odinson

Words: 3,191

"You mean you can't just 'abracadabra' your problems away?" Loki asks with feigned shock.

"Oh, please. First, Thor doesn't understand how e-mails work, now you apparently don't know what the term 'kidnap' means. Allow me to explain it to you, Your Royal Highness. 'To take someone away illegally by force.'" Stephen defines sassily.

"I have no concern for your Midgardian laws, Wizard," Loki says.

"You used the Bifrost to take me from my Sanctum! That's an invasion of privacy." Stephen chides, then adds, "And the preferred term is 'Master of the Mystic Arts.'"

"I didn't even want to summon you, initially!" Loki argues back.

"Well I'm here now, and it better be for good reason!" Stephen snaps.

"Trust me, it'll be worth your time." Loki says, ignoring Stephen's unimpressed look at 'trust me,' "you're a doctor, or at least was one, yes?"

Stephen, baffled at why that particular detail of his life was being brought up, asks, "Correct, but what does that have to do with you rudely kidnapping me?"

"And you are the current Sorcerer Supreme as well?"

"Actually, that would be Wong. Though I'm a sort of unofficial second-in-command," Stephen explains.

Loki didn't look as if he fully believed him, but carried on regardless. "I need your– your duty as a sorcerer– your assistance would be," he softly growls in frustration at himself, "you would be doing Jotunheim a great service if you would be willing to assist us in our time of need." Loki nods, satisfied with his request.

As amusing as it was seeing the silver-tongued god struggle for words, Stephen wasn't that cruel. "Fine, I'll help. What exactly is the problem?"

His agreement seemed to at least ease some of the tension off Loki's face, "You see, two villages have been invaded, all civilians either killed gruesomely or reported missing. And we have no information on the creature suspected of these crimes. No trace of them to identify. Rather impressive, I must say."

Any irritation Stephen was holding turned into intrigue, "Yeah, I'd say that justifies as a problem."

"To put it lightly," Loki agrees. "Oh, and I did also ask Thor to assist. As much as I hate to admit it, we'll most likely be needing him."

"No arguments from me," Stephen says with a nod. "Why do you need my help, anyway? You're intelligent. A fairly decent sorcerer, too, despite how much you seem to love daggers."

Loki sighs, "You and only one other have ever managed to trick me. Surely for an accomplishment such as that there's something to be of use from you."

"Thank you," Stephen says with a small smirk.

"That wasn't a compliment." Loki retorts.

"Sure it wasn't."

"It wasn't!"

"Brother!" That was Thor, striding into the room. "Strange! You will be accompanying us on our journey as well? Loki, I see you finally decided to get help!" Loki narrows his eyes at Thor's word choice. "The more the merrier! How does life treat you these days?" He sets a hand on Stephen's shoulder with such force he nearly stumbles over like a bowling pin.

"I'm doing pretty good. What about you?" Stephen asks.

"I'm also doing well, thank you. Brother, how's your reign been so far?" Thor turns his attention to Loki.

"All has been settled nicely with hardly any misgivings, our current predicament excluded of course. What of yours?" Loki asks with a hint of a prideful smile curling his lips.

Thor answers, "New Asgard is coming along nicely. Stark has been kind enough to help us get settled as our own establishment."

"I'll have to come by and visit soon, then. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to figure out who's killing my people now."

—————————

He had seen disturbing injuries in his time working at the ER, ranging from point-blank GSWs to a drunk man falling into a bonfire. (Charred skin is one of those smells you will never forget.) Never has Stephen seen something quite like this, however. The fire casts shadows across the walls as he crouches down to get a better look at the body. The Frost Giant man, albeit taller and bluer than the average male, has surprisingly similar anatomy to a human. "Even my interns at the hospital would've been ashamed of a Krocher incision like that," Stephen comments, hovering his hand over the sloppy gash. "About a 20° downward slope starting just under the rib cage. I'd say about 8 or 9 inches wide. I suspect an organ might be missing, too. You see the way the stomach caves in a bit more there?" He gestures to the area right under the ribs.

"Do you have any ideas of what could've caused a cut like that?" Loki asks, crouching down on the other side of the body.

"The stomach wasn't cut open, it was ripped open. I once had to treat someone who was mauled by a black bear. Looked a lot like this. It could've been caused by a claw, or dull instrument of some kind." Stephen explains.

Thor asks, "You suspect one of the other villagers could have done this?"

Before Stephen can answer, Loki chimes in, "They've invaded two villages. Surely a single person wouldn't be able to do this much damage."

"Probably a creature of some kind then. How many do you think?" Stephen asks.

Loki puffs his cheeks in exasperation, "How am I to know?"

"Not only were you born here, you're the king of Jotunheim. I assume you know what creatures live around here and if they come in packs."

"Oh what, so you knew what animals were around the place you were born?"

"I was a farm kid, so yeah, actually, I did. Had to know what to protect the cattle from." Stephen stands up with a huff to stand beside the lit furnace, watching the flames devour the wood inside, and lets the silence sit for a moment.

"Amazing how quickly fire can destroy," Loki comments, also watching the wood curl and flake away into the glittering coals below.

"Or preserve," Stephen challenges, "I don't know if Asgard or Jotunheim has the same custom, but on Earth, we sometimes choose to cremate our dead. The flesh will decay, but the ashes, however... the ashes allow us to keep them close without smelling quite so bad." Loki snorts softly at that. "Should we cremate this body?"

"We have our own customs that I'll see to after we get things settled," Loki says. The trio watched the flames in silence for a few moments. The fire crackled and ashes rose to land on a nearby dusty shelf. "What're you doing?" Loki asks as Stephen approaches the shelf.

He runs a finger across the wood, inspecting the layer of dust now coating his finger. "Did you know that dust is largely composed of skin cells?" At Thor and Loki's questioning looks Stephen announces, "I've an idea." With a sweeping of his hand, he gathers the dust into a loose but small golden cylinder. As he explains, the cylinder spins around rapidly, "this spell will act as a sort of centrifuge. It'll keep the skin cells in and kick the other particles out." As said, the spell released and only a few particles remained. Stephen draws the particles into his palm and slides his other hand over them. A thin, golden line follows. He pushes the spell forward and the line shoots out past the building, far past what they could see.

"Woah," Thor breathes.

Stephen allows himself a small, prideful smile. "No trace of them to identify, huh?" He asks, quoting Loki.

"Shut up," Loki says as start to follow the line.

—————————

As a Master of the Mystic Arts, Stephen is expected to have at least a basic knowledge of the nine realms, but he somehow underestimated just how frigid the place actually is. He's slightly jealous of the two æsir. Both Thor and Loki only wear their normal armor, yet still look completely unfazed. The snowflakes clinging to their hair is a mere fashion accessory to them. Meanwhile, Stephen is shivering even with four layers of thick clothing and the air itself hurts his face. His hands ache something awful, too. He can feel the cold metal beneath his skin and the way his blood vessels constrict around them. Thor's higher body temperature allows him to not feel the cold so harshly, and Loki's biology thrives in the cold. Goldilocks got it wrong this time. Being in the middle wasn't just right.

"The spell ends here," Loki breaks him from his thoughts. He didn't even realize the brothers had stopped walking. Stephen looks up from where he had been absent-mindedly stepping in Thor's larger footsteps in the snow, only to face the opening of a cave. The mountain range they had trekked the edge of hid the mouth like it was a sacred treasure to be kept secret. He probably wouldn't have even noticed it if Loki hadn't pointed it out.

"Where is 'here,' exactly?" Stephen asks.

"I would imagine this is the pests' place of residence. Perhaps the villagers that have gone missing were brought back here." Loki answers.

"Seems like a safe bet," Stephen concurs.

Thor says, "All-Father grant us strength and protection. Let us go, then."

"Wait, we're not coming up with a plan or anything? Loki, back me up here." Stephen cautions.

"What is that phrase you people of Earth use? 'Expect the unexpected'. That's our plan." Loki explains flippantly.

"That is not a plan. That's just... going with the flow." Stephen scoffs.

Loki smirks, "Let's hope you're a good swimmer then, Strange." Loki starts walking towards the cave's entrance with Thor at his heels.

"Oh for the love of–" Stephen sighs, but follows. These two idiots are bound to get themselves killed at this rate.

The cave was dark the further they went in. Stephen had cast a night vision spell on the trio so they could explore without drawing attention to themselves. At least by light, that is. Sound is another issue.

Loki hisses, "Could you possibly walk any louder?"

Thor huffs in a whisper, "I'm only walking as I normally do."

"We're trying to sneak in here, you big oaf. Key word there being 'sneak.'" Loki says.

"I am well aware of that!" Thor insists, and at least attempts to soften his footsteps.

Stephen matches his pace to Thor's, "Hang on, watch me. Roll your feet like this. Heel hits the ground first, then you roll to your toes." He demonstrates and Thor tries to copy his movements. "My father used to go fox hunting when I was a child and would occasionally bring me along. He taught me how to walk through the woods without scaring the animals."

"I never took you for a hunter, Strange," Thor comments.

"I never did shoot anything. I would mostly just watch the birds and squirrels. It was peaceful out there. I would just tell my father nothing was out." Stephen whispers.

"Do neither of you understand the concept of being quiet?" Loki whispers back, giving the pair a side-eye Michelle Obama would be proud of. The ground beneath them starts to rumble slightly, only lasting a few seconds. A low groan echoes from the other side of the cave, which quickly leads to various more groans.

The three stare into the darkness. The darkness stares back at them.

Then blinks.

"Run!” Thor leads the way, with Loki in the middle and Stephen trailing closely behind. They maneuver through the tunnels as hound-like creatures with long claws chase at their heels. Stephen turns around briefly to cast the Flames of the Faltine, leaving a barrier of flames between the trio and the creatures. Much to Stephen's confusion, the creatures aren't deterred from the flames, instead, they seem to bathe in the warmth. It almost stops him in his tracks, but a hand grabs him around the wrist and pulls him along. He hears Loki mutter something under his breath, probably an insult, before the two are off to catch up to Thor.

They run through the tunnels until Thor comes to a sudden stop. He and Loki almost plow into him. Thor backtracks quickly from where he almost falls off a small cliff. Down below is a large ravine. The entire hoard of creatures scamper across small ledges alongside the walls. The floor is made of black, rough stone, and orange light leaks through cracks spreading throughout the stone. What catches their eyes though, is the giant creature in the middle. Over ten times the size of the other creatures, this one lazily has it's mouth open while the other creatures come by and drop small chunks of meat into it. He hears Thor suck in a breath beside him and follows his eye-line to see a Jötunn body tucked away into a crevice, its stomach torn open as one of the creatures roots around in his guts. It pulls out an organ. Smaller creatures, possibly the children, come and drag the body away, munching at the body's sides while doing so.

"They're eating the livers," Stephen says, lip curling in disgust.

Loki blanches, "No, Strange. They're feeding the livers to the Queen. The rest they eat for themselves.”

A pebble rolls across the ground, causing the three to whip around. A creature prowls closer, eyes dead set on Thor. Stephen casts Mandala shields at his fists, and the creature's attention diverts to him. He narrows his eyes in thought and dissipates the shields. The creature's attention is back on Thor. Stephen summons a heatless light in his palm, yet the creature’s attention remains on Thor. Stephen huffs a laugh, "They see in infrared!" The creature pounces at Thor, but Stephen uses the Bands of Cyttorak to contain it. It struggles and writhes in its clutches, but almost immediately calms when Stephen ignites flames around it. Thor and Loki circle as Stephen inspects the creature. Now that he had the chance to get a good look at it, he could see how its eyes were similar to that of a fox. "See, Loki? It does good to know the predators in your area. This one evidently seeks heat. That's probably why they sought out the liver. It's typically one of the hottest organs, and it matches with the type of cut we saw in the other victim."

Loki either doesn't hear him or ignores his comment, most likely the latter, and comes closer to the creature. "Varmesøker," Loki announces.

"Bless you," Thor says.

Stephen gives him a questioning look, "Varme-what? Is that what it's called?"

"Norns if I know. I just imagined it would need a name. Varmesøker means 'heat seeker.' Seemed appropriate." Loki explains. Stephen hums with approval while Thor nods.

"Now to address the Varmesøker in the room, what're we going to do with them?" Thor asks.

Stephen starts, "We could-"

"No," Loki interrupts.

"You didn't even let me finish!" Stephen protests.

"You didn't need to. You were going to suggest we lure them all to one place and kill them with the thing they love so much. Fire." Loki says.

Stephen gapes at him for a moment, "First of all, that was a bit morbid. Secondly... yea, kinda."

Loki sighs, "And that's why I said no. Your plans historically aren't the best."

"My plans have defeated the likes of Dormammu and Thanos, for your information. Do you have a better plan?" Stephen raises his voice slightly.

"Umm, guys?" Thor says.

"To lead them away we would need a heat source," Loki argues.

"Good thing we have three right here with us," Stephen counters back.

Loki raises a brow, "you're not suggesting we use ourselves to draw them away?"

"Loki?" Thor alerts.

"While using my magic, I have the highest heat signature. I'm suggesting I lead them away while you figure out where your people are." Stephen explains.

"That would never-" Thor's hand slaps over Loki's mouth.

"They know we're here!" Thor exclaims in a hushed whisper. Sure enough, one of the Varmesøkers is entering the cave while two more climb onto the cliff they are arguing on. Loki pulls the hand away from his face with a glare. All three creatures stare down Thor until their attention is brought to the fire encircling one of their companions.

Stephen whispers, "Thor, blast the floor in the ravine. You need to break it." Before either has the time to question his request, Stephen summons the Flames of the Faltine once again, except this time, he keeps it on his person and takes off running. The Varmesøkers are quick behind him.

"I'm going to figure out where they're storing my people," Loki tells Thor once Stephen's out of earshot then disappears with a gleam of green.

Thor huffs, "Guess I'll just stay here, then."

—————————

Thor observes the floor of the ravine carefully from his perch on the cliff. From what he could tell, the floor was composed of cracked obsidian, so the orange glow beneath it must be magma of some sort. He knew from his studies as a child that obsidian was a type of glass, so theoretically if he were to strike it with lightning, it would completely shatter. His main problem, however, was the Queen and other Varmesøkers still occupying said floor. As he prepared himself to unleash a bolt, he heard snarls and growls from at least three dozen Varmesøkers and running footsteps from a nearby tunnel, "Thor, do it now!" Strange yells.

With that, Thor let lightning surround his body.

—————————

"Thor, do it now!" Stephen yelled at the god. He didn't know why Thor hadn't yet opened the floor to the magma chamber below, but he needed it done now! He kept running through the tunnel, flame in hand, with the Cloak swatting away jaws that got too close. He was rapidly coming up with a plan B, but Thor must've heard his call and Stephen saw how lightning started to surround his body. It crackled around him, and the attention of every single Varmesøker in the area turned to him. Lightning blasted the ground below, and the obsidian fell away into the magma. Stephen ran up to the edge of the cliff edge, increasing the intensity of the ball of fire in hand, and dropped it into the chasm. The Cloak lifted him above the stampede of creatures as they fell after the fire, one after one, and into the firey pits below.

Thor and Loki join him on a nearby cliff edge, watching all of the creatures fall into the magma-like shooting stars. Loki speaks first, “I found a few surviving villagers. I freed a few of the less injured ones to help the others with the promise to return after dealing with the threat.”

“I’ll help you bring the others back,” Thor says. Stephen makes a noise of agreement.

Loki clicks his tongue and sighs, "I suppose that takes care of our murder problem, then. Looks like your plan did work this time, after all, Wizard.”

Stephen chuckles a bit to himself and does jazz hands with little effort, "Abracadabra!"

#mckiwiwrites #stephen strange #doctor strange #loki laufeyson #thor odinson #medical doctor stephen strange #jotunn loki #murder mystery #attempt at humor #alternate universe #post engame #nobody dies #background character death #description of injury #marvel #doctor strange fanfic #stephen strange fanfic #fanfic #marvel fanfic

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yami-yomiel · 9 months

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Redrew that one Joel image from .. a long time ago.

Including a whole extensive story i did while working on this mid wip. Warning- it’s long as BALLS and i don’t recommend reading it on a phone /hj

I mean he’s distracted - by theory you can just grab what you need and dip.

He HAS been missing some socks

Mostly pairs

But thats just a ‘rumor’ so to sayyy. I mean , SURE he’s dealing with demons everyday so im sure a few missing socks wouldnt be a huge deal- Not if he sees you at least. he’s probably getting off the phone , he can’t leave all that stuff laying around ya know 😏

Although him catching you is .. a little unlikey imagine if he did. Joel to me is the type to scream like a girl sorry - and that would probably give you enough time to run back under his dresser [twirls hair]

BUTTTTTT there’s also the chance of him just grabbing you. And he might be a little .. rough with it~ not trying to kill you but you get a little winded. Perhaps the fear and shock in your eyes is mutual - but you don’t know that because you’re trying to comprehend the fact you’ve been caught. Imagine his surprise when he finds out you’re a human - or a least a sentient creature thats not a mouse or a rat. You think he’d feel guilty for scaring you half to death. I don’t think Joel would be mad about the whole ‘I’ve been living in your walls for a while ‘ thing - he would be weirded out though YES. But maybe he warms up to it. Like think about it like a sort of symbiotic (is that the term?) relationship - you help me and i help you sorta deal. I’d beleive he sorta.. forgets to put you down and sorta fidgets with you. The fact you’re so small and YET alive and lived for this long is fascinating to him. Sure he has an interest in the dead -i mean he has an ouija board and all - but the living also interests him.

Semi related but i feel like he’d be a biology nerd - and knowing that small things are more fragile he’d probably take that into account when handling you - assuming Joel would anyways. Maybe he gently pressed a finger into your ribs feeling your heartbeat, and that sets a glimmer in his eyes. Your own heart is almost the same size as his finger nail - holy cow. But it frightens him. Shoot, one wrong move and you’d be a little splatter on the ground. And right now he doesn’t want anyone else around him suffering anymore;

To call back to another headcanon i made - I said he likes to imagine himself as a borrower - or at least a small tiny guy. So seeing you would be like a childhood dream come true. He chews his lip trying not to ask incredibly personal and difficult questions. ‘have you ever been caught before?’ ‘Have you fallen from a high place before’ ‘How did you learn about borrowing, did someone teach you or was it sort of like an instinct’ Those sorts of questions. I don’t think they’d be easy ones to answer given your skill level (if you can measure it anyways). If Joel thought about it for two seconds he’d probably ask about what you took from him. Not in a rude way but more so what you did with them , what did you use those socks for? You know while this is all going on he’s poking and prodding at you - probably not in an invasive way (you can always tell him to stop) but right now you’re in awe. You’ve heard so many stories about humans being big and scary and wanting to harm your species but .. for someone whose just been caught by one - you seem to be alright. Even if you’re going though a very extensive look over or whatever.

Joel is probably internally freaking out at this whole thing. I mean he’d always wanted to BE a small person, but seeing one right in front of you is a different story. His look of wonder turns into a silly grin as he scooped you up, . You know noted how oddly soft his hands were, given all the equipment you saw him use you’d think they’d be a little textured, but nope, they were quite plushy. Ahem anyways. He scoops you up and plops you right onto his desk. It seemed to be neat, a laptop and some recording supplies , quite minimal. Joel at down right infront of you, given his look it still seems like he’s in awe over the whole thing, you can tell he’s holding back from bouncing or pacing around but he’s gotta keep his composure. You’d try doing the same but, him leaning forward and getting a full few of his face made you squeak. “Sorry , I’m just.. I’ve never seen someone like you before - ya know?’ He said. His voice was deep, so deep in fact it vibrated in your bones and brain.

Hot Dog.

You nodded but really you’re trying to shake off the warmth that spread from your face and down your back, causing goosebumps.

[It’s now 11:09 i need to go to BED]

#ghosttrickanon #ak mystifying oracle #Joel Hayes #mystifying oracle #giant/tiny #g/t art #sfw g/t #g/t community #g/t related #g/t #Ibispaint #lasso tool #illustration

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mr-ribbit · 2 days

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apparently we have to say this now but people are Allowed to drink leukwarm tap water ok

like when did the terminally online people on this website decide that just because YOU drink other liquids, our beautiful water loving peers have to chug milk by the gallon too?

i have lots of hydrated friends, and i would NEVER be so rude as to ask them if they'd like something else to drink like some juice or a soda pop. joking about whether or not they'll want some ice seems even worse- what am I implying, that they're some disgusting piece of shit ice sucker- I mean member of the cold beverages community?

let people drink tap water!!! stop pressuring them so much with your invasive questions like "would you like some coffee or tea?" and your jokes about how you used to drink more water before you started "liking energy drinks" EW!! i mean, uh, RUDE!!!!

in support of my water drinking friends, I'm pouring every single bottle of wine i own down the drain. thousands of dollars of vintage actually, this is a terrible decision for me and my life. the house reeks of tannins. i called all my friends sjw waterphobic fuckasses, so who would i drink wine with anyway? i have no further hangups to unpack here!!!!

#gtext

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dionysia-does-stories · 7 months

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Meech's Doll

Cringetober 2023, Day 19: Dolls/Puppets/etc

On AO3

Rating T -1,355 words - Tortall - Yuki & Kell

Summary: Newly wed, Yuki comes to New Hope for the first time. She tries to settle in and be accepted amongst the fort with mixed results. But she has an ace up her sleeve, new fabric scraps to be the hair for Meech's bald doll all the way from Lalasa in Corus.

Story:

A crowd gathered around New Hope’s gates to welcome the newest Lady of Queenscove. A wave of shock had crashed over the camp at the idea that Neal was getting married. It was swiftly followed by the fact that the bride intended to stay in New Hope until the end of the war. It had been the only thing anyone gossiped about. Then, the final piece of information—that the bride was Kel’s other best friend—had trickled its way through the refugees and everyone had stopped finding it all that scandalous. Of course, any lady friend of Keladry’s would be a bit odd.

Kel had chosen to take that as a compliment and not an insult. She was excited to have Yuki in the fort. Some of the other fort commanders had bemoaned the safety risk of having a lady on the frontlines (they’d specified a proper lady and not a lady knight). Kel did worry about her friend, but she knew Yuki had a good head on her shoulders and wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks.

Yuki wasn’t worried about raids or attacks at all. The only fear that Yuki seemed concerned about was that the refugees at New Hope would hate her. It was hard in so many ways to be an immigrant to a kingdom, even one like Tortall. Yuki was always having to brush of snide comments or invasive questions. She did it with grace, the edges of her eyes crinkled with laughter. But Yuki knew that Kel (and Neal) cared deeply for the people of New Hope.

Kel had tried every angle she could think of to reassure Yuki that the refugees wouldn’t hate her. And that even if they did Kel and Neal wouldn’t think any less of her because of it. When that had failed, Kel had tried to rope Neal into reassuring Yuki. That was lost cause from the start. Kel hadn’t heard Neal say a single sensical word in three weeks. But Yuki married him anyway. Yuki was brave. New Hope was a place that appreciated brave people.

The whispering as they entered through the gates didn’t set things off well. Rude comments about Yuki’s un-Tortallan facial features interspersed with suggestive comments about her “exotic” beauty. There was a part of Kel that wanted to lecture them all about their behavior like a strict mother. She held herself back only because she knew her interference wouldn’t do Yuki any favors. Neal was happily oblivious, which was probably for the best.

That evening, Kel stopped by Yuki and Neal’s room. Saying a silent prayer to The Goddess that she wasn’t interrupting anything, Kel knocked on the door.

Yuki answered, her eyes lighting up when she saw it was Kel.

“Are you settling in okay?” Kel asked.

Yuki nodded her head. “Very much so.” A little mischief colored her tone as she added, “I’ve been thinking I should join your glaive practice in the morning.”

Neal called, “It’s too early!” from his desk. He didn’t lift his head from the list he was reading.

“Just because you want to sleep until midday,” said Yuki, “doesn’t mean I have to.”

“You’ll wake me up,” he complained. “Also,” his voice took on a sappy quality, “I’ll miss you.”

Kel loved her friends and was happy they loved each other. But she did wish they would stop flirting in front of her. “You would be welcome to join us,” she told Yuki. “I could use the help to be honest.”

“It’s settled then,” Yuki said, ignoring the hurt animal sounds coming from her husband.

Kel smiled. “I’m heading to the mess hall. I don’t know if—“

“—I’ll join you,” Yuki jumped in.

“I won’t be done for another half hour,” Neal said.

“Then you can join us when you are finished.” There was determination in the how Yuki was holding her shoulders. She wasn’t going to hide in her rooms, like a delicate fairytale princess in a tower.

Kel led the way. Yuki kept up a steady stream of conversation about the goings on in Corus and how Kel’s family was doing. She showed Yuki the window that the cooks served meals from. Yuki made pleasant small talk with the cooks as she thanked them for her food.

Kel sat at a table of freed convict soldiers. As graceful as a butterfly, Yuki perched on the bench across from Kel. The soldiers didn’t know what to do with themselves. Even if they had met nobility before, it was unlikely they’d ever seen a Yamani lady.

Yuki showed her talent for directing conversation to the fullest. She introduced herself to each of them, revealing that she already knew several by name from Neal’s letters. She talked about how terrible Neal’s handwriting was—a unifying complaint among anyone who had read it.

Just as all seemed well a young woman walked past at a fast clip muttering just loud enough for the table to hear “whore”. Kel rose to follow her. Yuki grabbed Kel’s arm, gesturing for her to sit.

“She can’t speak that way to you,” Kel said.

Yuki shook her head. “I will survive. Besides, how many times have you been called a whore? You should know it’s the insult of the unimaginative.”

Kel sat back down. “But I put up with it because I wanted to be a knight and the insults are part of the price I pay for that dream. You are the furtherest thing from a whore.”

Yuki made a hum of dissent. “I am a newly wed woman,” she said, wicked and full of implication.

The men around them were all guffawing. The double entendre itself wasn’t particularly dirty but hearing it from Yuki made it the most hysterical thing in the world to them.

Kel smiled, relaxed. She noticed Toby and his friends. She waved them over. The children presented themselves in a gaggle. They bowed and curtsied to Yuki, a gesture that Kel truely appreciated.

“Yuki is trained with the glaive,” Kel told them. “She’s going to help out at our practices.”

There was a soft chorus of “thank you”.

Yuki greeted them all. Then she addressed Meech specifically. “Are you Meech?” she asked kindly.

Meech furrowed his brow, confused. He nodded confirming his identity.

“Neal told me that your doll lost all her hair saving everyone from Balyce.” Yuki reached in to a cleverly hidden pocket in her skirt. She pulled out to bundles of high quality silk scraps. “Lady Keladry has a friend who makes dresses and she gave me some replacement strands of hair for your doll.”

Meech’s attention was riveted on Yuki as she showed him the bundles. “If you don’t mind me taking your doll for a little while, I can sew it on for you.”

Meech held the doll out to her without further prompting. Yuki carefully laid it in her lap.

“There’s a decision to be made,” she warned him. “I have this bundle with fiery red hair, which I’m told your doll originally had.”

Meech nodded.

“But I have this other color,” Yuki held the bundle oddly close to Kel’s face. If it had been anyone but Yuki, Kel would have batted their arm away.

Yuki continued, “You can see this one is a soft brown somewhat golden color.”

The men were snickering quietly to themselves and Meech’s eyes were huge. Kel hadn’t figured out the joke, although she knew there was one. It had something to do with the color of the silk which was—

The new silk for Meech’s doll was the exact same shade as Kel’s hair.

Meech pointed to it. “I’d like that one. please.”

Yuki let her lips show a smile. An impolite behavior in the Yamani Isles but an expected nicety in Tortall. “I like this one too,” she whispered like they were sharing a secret.

The doll premiered it’s golden brown hair shortly there after. It and Yuki were a smash hit around New Hope. Someone carved the doll a tiny glaive to bring to morning practice. Kel smiled every time she looked at it. She loved her friends.

#tortall fanfiction #tortall #fanfiction #yuki #Kel #keladry of mindelan #protector of the small #cringetober 2023 #Day 19: Dolls/puppets/etc

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agentem · 1 year

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You know what would have been a good character moment? If Rocket realized he should give Bucky's arm back.

Like when we first meet Rocket, and the stealing of limbs begins, it is portrayed as him being awful. He's trying to inflict suffering on other people, because that's all that makes him happy. ("Writhe, little man.") But at the end of the movie he becomes a bit better of a person. We see his real love for Groot, and the beginnings of attachment to the other Guardians.

The second movie is all about what an asshole he--and Yondu--are because they are scared of being hurt. Hurt others before they hurt you, that is how he protects himself. But, by the end of the second movie, he starts to allow himself to a bit vulnerable with the other Guardians.

Rocket actually gets punished for his vulnerability, by the Snap. Because Groot dies in front of him. He could have regressed and become more bitter. That's not covered in Endgame but I have real questions about how he, arguably the worst Guardian, and Nebula, who was still actively choosing evil and not yet a Guardian, at the time of Infinity War, managed to continue to be heroes during that time.

For example, in Endgame Rocket still lashes out verbally at Carol about her hair, but then later he concedes her point. We don't see him backtrack often before that moment. Somehow he managed to learn how to be a bit better during the worst time to be alive in the galaxy. So that's cool.

The CGI face he makes when Nebula gives him the arm is interesting. Rocket has only ever expressed desire for limbs to be told no (twice in the first Guardians), but we know he still likes taking body parts because he tells Thor he won the eye and then later admits he stole it. Then when he meets Bucky, he asks how much for the arm. This shows an increasing awareness that taking of body parts is wrong (first shame at having done it then trying to find another way to acquire then besides stealing).

But he's still gonna "get that arm." It would be cool if this obsession were addressed in Guardians 3. Like if we found out why he likes body parts. We know it's going to give us backstory on his creation. Maybe there were body parts laying around him all the time when he was a baby raccoon. I don't know. It could be related to his central trauma of being experimented on against his will.

Anyway, back to the face. I think people who "like" the moment in the Holiday special are touched because Rocket, like Yondu, does not seem to be someone who ever got presents. He is shocked by Nebula's gift. The warmness in his face is what people enjoy.

I know the reason people "don't like" it is because it would be horrible to lose your artificial limb. It would be a huge invasion for Bucky. It is objectively, bad. And people don't like that the special suggests that heroes do that kind of thing. (I would argue they are not heroes.)

Nebula, my beloved, is not someone who necessarily good. She agreed to destroy planets in exchange for her father's murder. I love her but the evidence suggests she is capable of genocide. Not the best look.

But Nebula also doesn't have a good sense of self. Quite literally! She murdered her own past-self without blinking. Also she has many removable parts but her bodily autonomy was NOT respected. All her surgeries were done against her will. She would not know that is a thing that you could ask to please keep all your limbs in one place.

One could argue that to survive for five years, helping people. She would have to have confronted her own disability and/or realized people don't like their limbs removed--the she doesn't like it. It's rude. (Especially if she lived with Rocket and he liked to steal her eyeball.)

But regardless, I do believe she is the kind of person who would totally rip off a man's arm without blinking and wrap it with a bow.

Nebula and Rocket must have became a lot closer during the Blip. There is that quiet and nice moment in Endgame where she takes his paw. That's all we know of it. But they were on the Benatar together, alone, for five years.

So I feel like: do they give it back is a more interesting question than if the moment was bad or not.

Because she has arguably expressed what she wanted to express (basically that she loves him even if he's an asshole) and he knows he doesn't need this arm. Are they going to learn a lesson or are they going to keep the arm?

#rocket raccoon #nebula #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy vol 1 #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 #avengers #avengers: infinity war #avengers: endgame #the guardians of the galaxy holiday special #bucky barnes

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infinitydivine · 7 months

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I'm not interested in tarot or psychics. It is not right for the energies to be read by so many people, the universe is very protective in this regard, in my opinion. When we look at it anyway, each reader's interpretation is different. Gookie is a healthy, strong, handsome and rich man. Logically, why wouldn't he be interested in a woman or a man (I respect whatever his sexual orientation is). He may have had or will have a serious relationship(s). I don't understand why people are so passionate about this. He said that he is not in a relationship right now, and I don't think he can spare much time for this due to workload etc. But as an army, I sincerely want him and the other members to meet someone who will embrace them with love and be a shoulder to their troubles in life. I really don't understand why people are so obsessed with them and their future women. Whether he is with another girl every day, has a serious relationship, or marries someone tomorrow, all we have to do is support him maturely and send lots of love.

Also tarot used to predict him as someone who is waiting for his the one and someone not interested in casual relationships but what came out was that he seemed to be in a relationship and if the gossips are true about that person being in "his circle" it looks like a long-term relationship and a stable one for sure...

What if the entire jk fs prediction turns out to be untrue... it's possible right!!!- I was referring to this one when you talked about Psychics and Tarot readings. If you are not interested that's fine but you do not need to be rude like this. People are gonna be obsessed with him because they chose it themselves. Everybody knows that being obsessed with someone who doesn't even know you personally is not right, but they still choose it anyway. This is a way of them learning their lessons the hard way, unfortunately. The Asks will continue doesn't matter how invasive it is. So at an Individual level if you respect his boundaries and yours then you are a true fan and congratulations to you. But see getting triggered by delusional fans will not do you good. So please save that energy for yourself, it is going to continue even after JK is married. This is how it is, no matter how much you, I, or anyone else tries to avoid them.

I understand your feelings that's why I am replying to your ask.

#bts tarot #jungkook tarot

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sagencelestient · 9 months

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Operation: Secret Date Spies!

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Mari and Hero are on a date, and Sunny, Kel, Basil, and Aubrey spy on them.

Sunny laid on his couch, barely even listening to the Capt. Spaceboy episode playing in the background, preferring to daydream instead (he would probably start actually dreaming soon), that was someone knocked on his door.

KNOCK KNOCK, KNOCK KNOCK, KNOCK KNOCK, KNOCK KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK-

There was only one person that he knew who did that very annoying pattern of knocks, Kel. Sunny grumbled as he got off the couch and went to the door. He was just about to take a nap! When he opened the door, lo and behold, it was Kel. How surprising.

“Hey hey, Sunny!” Kel greeted, “Is Mari home?”

Huh? Why is Kel asking him that?

Sunny shook his head.

Kel grinned, “Hero’s not either.”

Sunny stayed blank-faced. What’s that supposed to mean?

“Okay well, earlier I heard Hero asking permission to go out, something about helping the bakery and whatever-” Kel explained, “And he said Mari was gonna be there too, okay? And then my parents were like, “Oh go bring Kel too,” and Hero was like, “Ah- Uh- Well I can’t because…” something, something, I don’t remember.” Sunny had some problems retaining the information at the speed Kel was talking.

“Then Hero turned red, and my parents were laughing about “young love” and “how he and Mari look good together”, and Hero left!”

So?

“So, basically, I think they’re going on… a date!”

A date? Ew.

“Yea, they’re probably gonna kiss n’ all…” Kel stuck his tongue out, “Gross right?”

He nodded, but why is Kel telling him this?

“And I was thinking… let’s spy on them!”

Sunny gave a confused expression. Why… would they want to do that?

“Hey, don’t give me that look, I’m bored okay?”

The sound of footsteps was heard behind him, his mother coming up to the door.

“Hi, Kel!” His mother smiled, “What are you doing here?”

Kel shrugged, “Nothing, just asking Sunny if he wants to shoot some hoops with me at the park.”

“Oh, that sounds fun! He does need some exercise, now I’m not gonna keep you two here any longer, have fun!” His mother said as Sunny gave Kel a look of betrayal. How dare he lie to his mom just to force him into his plan of spying on their sibling's so-called date?

“C'mon, Sunny, let’s go!” Kel urged, grabbing his hand as he speeded down the road, dragging Sunny along.

Sunny groaned, his nap was ruined just for this…

Sunny became a deadweight, hoping to slow Kel down as he was running, and he was actually successful, managing to make Kel walk instead of run. He had no idea where they were going, so he had to trust Kel (which was usually a bad idea).

What made him confused is that they went to Basil’s house. Why would Mari and Hero have their date there?

Before Kel could knock on Basil’s door, Sunny pinched him on his arm.

“Owww…” Kel whined, “That hurt!”

“Don’t knock like that. It’s annoying.” Sunny said.

“Finnnneeee…”

Kel knocked 3 times, pouting at Sunny, “Happy?”

He nodded.

The door opened to 2 familiar faces, Basil and Aubrey.

“Hello- Kel?” Basil said, very confused at the sight of them, “Why’d you knock 3 times?”

“Because SOMEONE-” Kel poked Sunny, who waved at them, “Told me so. Wait, why is Aubrey here?”

“Can’t I just hang out with him?! Why are you here anyway?” Aubrey huffed, crossing her arms.

“Wellll… Hero and Mari are going on a date! And we’re gonna spy on them!” Kel said excitedly.

“Oh really?” Aubrey said with stars in her eyes, “They’re so cute together… ooo I wonder if they’re on a romantic date… with candles and-”

“Ew…. we’re gonna surprise them and ruin their date because that’s GROSS!”

Aubrey seemed to be in shock because of this, “Why would we do that?!”

“Yea… that’s kinda rude… we’re gonna be intruding on their private time,” Basil added.

“AH! Well- Sunny help me out here!” Kel asked. Sunny gave him a blank stare.

“Thanks a lot…” Kel grumbled, “Fine, we won’t ruin it! We’ll watch… ew.”

“Isn’t that still an invasion of their privac-” Basil said, interrupted by Kel.

“What they don’t know, won’t hurt them!” Kel exclaimed.

“Yea, but you’re so loud, I bet people can hear you from outer space!” Aubrey said.

“Hey! I’m not that loud!”

Kel and Aubrey began to bicker, which was how most conversations with the two of them ended up.

“Do you know where they are?”

Silence.

“Umm… Hero didn’t say where….” Kel sheepishly said as he scratched his head.

“KEL! Why’d you tell us then?!” Aubrey said, smacking him lightly on the head.

“OW! Well... I was assuming that we would-”

“Maybe they’re in the secret hangout spot?” Sunny offered.

“Yea! We should check there!”

“Wait, let me tell my grandma we’re going,” Basil said, walking away.

They waited a couple of moments before Basil returned, nodding his head.

“Alright! Operation: Secret Date Spies is a go!” Kel pumped his fist in the air a couple of times, before taking off.

They made it to the secret hiding spot, hiding themselves the best they could, trying to get to the open patch of grass. And there they were, Mari and Hero, by themselves.

They all hid behind a large tree, Kel and Aubrey whisper-fighting.

“Move out of the way Kel! I can’t see anything!” Aubrey whispered.

“Go to the other side!” Kel responded.

“Guys we’re gonna get caught if you two don’t stop talking!” Basil said.

That shut them up, and they could actually focus on what they came here for, Mari and Hero. They were on a picnic blanket, just chit-chatting and eating some sandwiches. Sunny couldn’t hear what they were talking about (just a “so many” from Hero) from the distance.

Then they started to lean in closer, and Sunny was preparing himself to close his eyes when the inevitable kiss happened, but suddenly Mari put a finger on Hero’s lips.

“I know you guys are there, y’know.” She laughed, and they emerged from the back of the tree.

Hero turned bright red, “Wha- You guys! Who’s idea was this?!”

They all pointed at Kel.

“Hey- Um- It was Aubrey!” Kel lied.

“No, it wasn’t!” Aubrey was fuming.

“Kel!” Hero groaned.

“It’s okay Hero, I was expecting this was gonna happen, but don’t worry! I made enough food for everyone!” Mari got out all the sandwiches from the picnic basket.

“Is that why you have so many sandwiches?” Hero asked.

“Mhm, come on, what are you guys waiting for?” Mari gestured to the picnic, “C’mon!”

They all went to the picnic basket, Basil muttering a small sorry for ruining their date. Sunny refused the sandwich Mari offered him, instead opting to lie down on the grass, afraid to take up too much space on the picnic blanket. The ground was soft and comfortable, and he could feel himself slipping into a nice cozy dream, mimicking his current reality.

Happiness was the only thing you could describe Sunny as at that moment, happy and surrounded by the warmth of his friends.

END!

Mmmmm fluff for the soul... anyway this was super fun to write I should write fluff more but... angst is just calling my name... Oh and btw I'm gonna write a continuation for "Hero's Misery" and it's gonna be in Kel's pov, I'm hoping to cover the rest of the friend group (the same timeline, but just different pov's). Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I liked writing this! - Sage

#sunny omori #omori sunny #kel omori #omori kel #basil omori #omori basil #aubrey omori #omori aubrey #mari omori #omori mari #omori hero #hero omori #heromari #omori #omori fanfic #pre canon #fluff #fanfiction #Sage

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butterflies-and-blades · 10 months

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Session 6: Innocence

With the city walls getting closer, I made sure my sword and shield were in their bracer form to continue the image that we were not armed when with the mayor, and then we quietly tried to move through the streets without attracting too much attention. Our plan was to essentially turn ourselves in, but that did not mean we wanted to hand over the power to the guards so immediately. I had a feeling we would be less likely to be heard out if we first interacted with patrol officers, rather than someone with hopefully more influence.

Instead of going back to City Hall--Verca made a fair point that immediately returning to the crime scene probably would not look good, even if we were actively searching out someone involved in the investigation--, we looked for some other establishment of similar function. In retrospect, we had not outlined this segment of the plan as much as we probably should have during the walk to Legen. Luckily, Talo located the guard's station rather quickly.

Less lucky was Verca's choice to unceremoniously kick through the front doors, making our arrival appear aggressive and potentially threatening to the guards inside, who all had their focus on us. I had planned a speech explaining how it did not make sense for us to be the perpetrators from a logistical standpoint, but everything came across much more frantic than I had intended as a result of our sudden bursting into the building. My rambling was eventually cut off when they dragged us into a shared cell.

The waiting was made worse by the relatively cramped quarters, but it was easier to not think about that once the guard we kept running across came to speak with us--I believe his name was John. We later learned that the mayor was his uncle, which made this entire situation so much worse. He lost family because of our blind trust.

Although he seemed incredibly incredulous upon hearing our claims of innocence, he sent for a priest anyways. As soon as he arrived, he began to berate John--which continued for almost the entirety of our time there. The priest agreed with my comments about the logistics related to the mayor's assassination, and without much delay cast the spell. From there, the easy questions were asked and answered, corroborating everything that we had been trying to tell them.

During all of this, I leaned closer to Verca. There was a question I wanted to ask, but it felt so invasive to force answers out of a person if they potentially wanted to keep certain pieces of information close to their chest. At least, in this situation it did; I suppose I could see the function of drawing out the truth in other theoretical occasions. I spent long enough fumbling over my words, trying to find the best phrasing possible, that Verca told me to just ask. He apparently had his own questions that he wanted to ask me anyways, so it was a trade.

I nodded and asked if I had been right about the voice that Talo had heard earlier originating from him rather than them. He confirmed. Four days ago, when we all met, Talo and I had stopped hearing from our individual wisps after completing our tests--in turn granting them each rest. However, the voice of Verca's wisp never left. He commented that it was not usually as rude to him as it was to Talo. I think he meant for that to be reassuring, but I still have not decided if we should be worried about its decision to stay around.

Given the opportunity to ask his question, Verca asked about the Mask. As I had said any other time, I restated that I had no idea about anything related to it. I am curious why he thought that was a question he could not otherwise ask or why he thought it to be similarly rude to the question I had for him, but that had not occurred to me until just now.

Verca then asked if I had any substantial gaps in memory. Each instance that the Mask appears is paired with skip in my memory--as if I was reading a book with missing pages. There is no active sense of missing, but start and end points that never line up. That did not seem to be what he meant though, because he then asked about when I was younger. About what my earliest memory was.

Like any child, my early memories are scattered. Most of them are moments with my dad or other similar scenes without context: running down hallways, playing games, traveling through the woods. But my first coherent memory has always been from the day I found Kaemon. We were walking through a city, and I was playing a game where I hopped between the cobblestones--avoiding the lines that ran between them--while holding Dad's hand. And then I saw the baby raven that had fallen from its nest, who I have taken care of every day since, just sitting on the side of the street. Verca asked how old I had been that day. I think I was about five, but I was not really keeping track of time back then.

More questions were asked between the three of us. It was less tense than the exchange between Verca and myself that had started things. These questions felt like lighthearted excuses to get to know each other a bit better.

Verca commented that his mom was great and that they had lived underground because she and his father were not apparently supposed to be anything. The use of past tense was lighting quick but just as loud as the thunder that follows, and it did not feel right to draw any more attention to it than that. She was an orc--the source of the tusks that he had pointed out earlier when we happened across our wanted posters that were poorly drawn aside from mine--, but when the priest asked about his father, Verca skirted around saying he was a tiefling. His demeanor was similar to when he originally avoided acknowledging the question about having a voice in his head from a few hours ago.

Similarly, Talo does not apparently know what they are, which seemed rather odd to me. I was also taken off guard when they then said that they are hiding something. I would have expected as much from Verca--it is a part of the reason I felt so guilty for my original question--, but not Talo.

As we were finishing up asking each other questions, I thought of one for Verca that I had no interesting in asking right now. The timing felt wrong, especially given that I had already made one tactless inquiry. Maybe it is something to ask at another time, farther down the line: what was his trial?

Before we left, the priest explained that the woman going by Rosi was a changeling and shared a story about an assassin apparently staying in the desert. We made plans to rest and then reach out to our ex-bandit friends to hopefully help scout out the area. It is too big of a desert to just go searching for her without a more specific direction.

Back at the inn, Talo took Verca and I into their room. They wanted to try speaking aloud more. For a long time, there were not any issues. Considering the fact that in the days we have known them, there has never been an issue of things exploding like they first explained, I started to think that maybe this was not something innate to Talo but rather something someone--or some other influence--had done to them. Perhaps a family member had been experimenting on them or maybe something in the environment was having an adverse reaction, and now that they are away from that situation, the more potent effects are fading. At some point they mentioned having no memory before they were adopted; I wonder if that is related to whatever was done.

As the conversation continued, though, I started to get tired. I originally did not put any further thought into the exhaustion; it had been a long day and we all needed to rest before we tackled finding Rosi tomorrow.

But then that singular pulse of fatigue grew into a surging tidal wave. The world started falling around me, and I was unconscious before I ever felt the impact of the floor.

While asleep, my dream started with that image from two nights ago. I was on the ground, looking up, and there was the sound of shattering glass. Then darkness.

The dream continued in a new direction, though. There were six glowing wings that extended from a figure who was obscured by their light.

"Everything is okay. Now is the time to rest," he said. "I'm sorry this happened. We'll take care of you." A hand reached out, and for a long time I did not move--too scared of whatever taking that hand meant. I did not understand who this was, who "we" was meant to be, or if this was the same entity as the Mask or something else. But after enough time of my questions being met with an unmoving silence, I reached out. There was nothing else I could do.

I took his hand, and then there was darkness again.

I don't know what I did that I can't remember, but I'm sorry for whatever happened. I didn't want to hurt anyone.

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nekooru · 1 year

Note

Any headcannon about the Demon Slayer? I’ve always pictured him being protective of younger children, but I’m curious what your thoughts and headcannon are. Doesn’t have to be romantic, but it can include that, too

₊ ☾⋆ the demon hcs pt. 1 ⋆⁺₊⋆

the demon.

synopsis: mostly personality headcanons for the demon!!

tags: the demon, fluff, platonic, headcanons, maplestory

wc: 584

a/n: SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO POST THIS DDD: ily hope u enjoy<33 i had some more romantic hcs in mind but i think i'll save them for pt 2 :3

headcanon

˙⋆⁺₊⋆.

☾. the demon is much more of an observer than a force of energy when it comes to socializing— often times, he can be seen quietly enjoying conversations with others, even though he doesn't engage first. if you ask him why he's so quiet, he'll usually say something along the lines of "i just feel like i don't have anything interesting to add most of the time."

☾. despite the way his demonic appearance strikes fear in most adults, kids seem to be drawn to him anyway. pluckier children will run up to him and reach for his wings eagerly, and when the shyer children see his gentle reaction, they too wander over to fawn over him.

☾. he never minds the invasion of space when it comes to kids, and he doesn't hesitate to entertain their questions or comments. after all, it isn't often he receives unwarranted positive attention from strangers, and truth be told, he can't help but see the past innocence of his little brother in their happy expressions.

☾. perhaps subconsciously atoning for his past choices, he's a kind and selfless person to all manners of life. whether it's sparing some time to watch over edelstein's children while they play, fetching some water for a withering flower, or stopping by the butcher to buy tasty treats for the local stray cats (and mastema), the demon does good deeds without a thought.

☾. at some point, he made his peace with being alone for the rest of his life. but as the resistance's growing fondness for him became increasingly obvious, mastema's return, and the numerous friends within the alliance that basically adopted him, his heart swelled when he made the realization that he wasn't alone. more than that; he was cherished, too, and he decided that he would do anything to protect the family that chose him.

☾. when you first befriend him, it's endearing how socially awkward he is. you quickly learn that silences are aplenty, so you might as well make them comfortable, and it's best to directly ask him questions about himself, because he'll never talk about himself first. you don't mind that he doesn't talk a lot— the small smile that usually graces his lips during conversation tends to speak volumes.

☾. although you tried to steer your attention away from his wings at first, apprehensive of seeming rude, your curiosity couldn't help but burst at the most random of times.

you blinked a few times before the words seemed to slip out of your mouth without realizing. "can i touch your wings?" you quickly shrunk away, embarrassed at your thoughtlessness.

the demon seemed taken aback at the sudden request, but quickly offered a smile and nodded. "yes, of course," he assured.

with wonder in your eyes, you reached out carefully to stroke your hand over the bones of his wing. the skin was silky and smooth, and as your hand trailed down to the membrane, it felt stranger. it felt delicate, although you knew logically that it had to be sturdy to carry his weight and survive battle.

your focus shifted to the bottom of his wing, and you guessed he was watching your expression intently, because he extended his wing in a way that brought it up closer to you. your fingers brush against the scar tissue near the tatters, and his wings seemed to twitch somewhat at the sensation. you glance at his face, and he widens his smile, as if saying "it's okay."

˙⋆⁺₊⋆.

☾. like/reblog if you enjoyed the story !

masterlist: x

my dms are open if you’d like to chat maplestory/fics!! :>

#maplestory #maplestory hcs #the demon #maplestory demon slayer #maplestory fanfiction

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grimm-rider · 1 year

Text

Entry 1

My name is Calio Caecos, and I’m a Black Rider of Baba Yaga.

There, I got the important part out at the front.

I’m writing this for my own personal records. In case I forget these things again. Not for anyone else to read it. Hint hint. Turn back now or bear a terrible curse. Or something.

Anyways, it’s been a couple of weeks since my journey started and I’m not going to write detailed daily entries of every little thing we did every day leading up to today or I’ll never catch up to…well, today. So I’ll summarize until I reach our current moment in time.

After trying to travel to Irrisen from Ustalav, I woke up in a…compromised position…in the Taldor border town of Demgazi, on the opposite side of the continent from where I was meant to be. A year later than it was meant to be. And I’m not going into anymore detail than that since I suspect someone other than me might get nosy and start reading this.

Aenland. That means you. Stop reading my journal.

Regardless, after I woke up in unusual circumstances, I went to a cleric to get checked out, due to my…sickly complexion. This is how I discovered both my…unusual allergy to positive energy, and the fact that despite it I don’t detect as undead of any sort. The priest wanted to preform some other prayers and rituals or something on me, but I was tired of holy men, and wasn’t quite sure what he’d end up doing if none of his little rituals worked. So I slipped away.

It was not long afterwards that I discovered my new magic and ability to call on negative energy—and the knowledge of how to scribe the spells into scrolls. I remained in town for one day to make some scrolls, then began making my way north.

I didn’t get far. Heldren, specifically. About as far South in Taldor as you can get without being right on the border. There I was roped into helping save a forest from an unseasonable winter that had mysteriously occurred along with three others.

First was a fellow Irriseni named Edeya—a beautiful woman with a talent for witchcraft. Next was a literal bear wielding an axe named Nestian—yes, a literal furry grizzly bear, not a gay bear. I don’t know his particular preferences. He might not have any as far as I can tell, he doesn’t really seem to have a strong reaction to much of anything or anyone. Last and certainly least is Aenland, an absolute nightmare of an elf. Take all the features that make elves beautiful and exotic, exaggerate them until they’re uncanny, stretch him out for good measure, and you have Aenland. He has creepy bug eyes, his limbs are far too long and thin for his body, he’s always smiling that creepy smile, and his hair is infuriatingly perfect. He is a sleep paralysis demon given flesh. And he seems to have made it his goal to be as infuriating as he is creepy. I hate him. So much. Everything about him makes me unreasonably mad. He has no social graces. He’s patronizing and looks down on anyone who isn’t an elf. He charges headfirst into sensitive topics with the subtlety of a charging rhino. He doesn’t know when to shut up and keep private information to himself. And as far as I can tell he’s totally oblivious that he’s doing anything rude.

And Aenland, if you didn’t take my words to heart and quit reading my journal prior, I want you to know: I wholeheartedly mean every word I say. Also fuck off and quit reading my journal.

Oh there’s also Edeya’s familiar I suppose. Snezhinka, an arctic fox. When we first met Edeya, the fox was pretending to be a stole around her neck, but after we left town and I called out Edeya on her obvious Irriseni origins, she had Snezhinka stop the act and introduced us.

After we gathered some information, and learned of one missing Lady Argentina, we headed to the bubble of eternal winter covering the normally warm Taldan forest. Along the way, Aenland asked us obnoxious invasive questions. I had a…friendly wrestle…with Edeya, to try to decide who would be subjected to Aenland first. I won, but unfortunately Aenland decided I would be next regardless. His questions were as annoying and intrusive as I’d expected and I gave the most barbed pointed replies I could muster—which he seemed completely oblivious to.

Finally, we made it to the bubble of winter and were free from Aenland’s incessant talking. There we found an overturned carriage, and fought some zombies within. My first foray with the undead—a very fascinating experience. We found Lady Argentina’s signet ring within the carriage, and continued on our way.

In the forest we faced fey, ice elementals, another fey riding a giant elk pretending to be a forest spirit, and a handful of bandits. Nestian didn’t want to kill the bandits, so we knocked two unconscious and I spooked the other two into running back to their camp with their tails between their legs. We woke one of the unconscious ones, questioned him—spooked him a bit—and got some information on Lady Argentina’s whereabouts. We had him lead us to their fortress.

Despite the bandit we were leading attempting to use his own body to set off a trap, we made our way through the fortress and cleared it out easily.

Well, I say easily. At one-point Nestian was surrounded by enemies and bleeding out, and Aenland spent part of the fight frozen in place by the necromancer leader Rohkar’s Hold Person spell. And Edeya was bleeding out so badly she could hardly think straight at one point. So okay maybe this wasn’t that easy of a fight. Maybe I’m just that good at keeping myself alive. Mostly alive?

…Alive. I’m alive. Detect undead doesn’t work on me, so clearly I’m still alive. Despite anything Nestian has to say about me smelling like death.

Anyways, despite any setbacks, the end result was Aenland knocking out Rohkar, me convincing this girl Nestian really wanted to leave the fight to leave, Nestian killing a shitton of people and seeing some weird fey creature flee into the woods, and on the outskirts Edeya keeping everyone else alive with her healing and using Evil Eye to weaken enemies.

We found Lady Argentina in a basement, I gained her trust by returning her signet ring, and we let her out and told her we had some prisoners we intended to question. When she heard one was Rohkar she insisted she be there to question him herself. We agreed. She had a strong personality and I for one QUITE enjoyed it.

When we woke Rohkar, Lady Argentina started our questioning by immediately slapping him and demanding answers. Then before he could actually answer she slapped him again.

Did I mention I like this lady?

Rohkar told us that they plot to kidnap the Lady had been concocted by the fey, and was part of a greater Irriseni plot, although he didn’t know the details. All he knew was that the leaders of the fey in this area were an Ice Mephit named Izozai and a Moss Troll named Teb Nottin.

After the others asked their questions about his plans and the eternal winter around us—which we learned was caused by a portal straight to Irrisen—I asked my own questions. Namely about Rohkar’s necromancy and what a necromancer gained from following the god of murder, Norgorber.

He gave his answer, that if he killed someone and raised them in Norgorber’s name, and then they killed someone, and then he raised them and they killed someone, it was a growing wave of death all in the name of the god of murder. He also told me a bit about the actual workings of necromantic spells—the necessity of always having onyx gems on hand to use as a material component, because the spells to raise the dead consume an amount at a rate determined by the power of what you try to bring back. Although the scrolls I took off him won’t need those. Which meant I had one free big hitter I could make.

I looking back feel like I’ve used it wisely.

Anyways after that enlightening conversation, we went to bed. We had a little detour back to town to cure Edeya of a disease, get a reward from Lady Argentina, and meet Nestian’s family (literal bears. Not talking shapeshifting bears like Nestian. Literal four-legged cave bears.)

Then it was back on the road to the winter portal. We fought some of Rohkar’s scraps (some icy skeletons left behind), some (very flammable) living trees, and finally the Mephit and an ice elemental.

She wasn’t as threatening as we’d expected, honestly. The ice elemental took longer to kill.

Then came something that…left a bad taste in my mouth. I’m not going to just summarize this part because…well I’m just not. It feels like more should be said about it. That’s all.

We came upon a Haunt.

Aenland was the first to see it. A young boy ran across his path. He begged to be left alone, then vanished into the boulders ahead of us. Aenland went ahead of us and tried to talk to the boy. The child poked his head out of the rocks—but instead of talking to Aenland, he addressed a ‘Mrs. Vasillanova’.

That’s a name we’re going to hear a lot more going forward. It’s one I hate. And its owner is going to get what she deserves and oh so much more when I get my hands on her.

At this point I recognized the Haunt for what it was, and informed Aenland that what he was seeing was not a true ghost, but a memory of a child caused by something terrible and traumatic happening. We had seen a strange doll laid out within a cabin on the top of the icy cliff ahead of us, and I let the others know that it was likely the key to calming the Haunt. Until then we had to be on guard, because Haunts were usually extremely dangerous and malevolent things.

Aenland saw that our path was blocked by some sort of magic—likely something that would trigger the Haunt. Nestian decided to take a different approach, and began using his claws to climb the side of the ice cliff directly. Then he threw down a rope so the rest of us could follow.

As we moved through this area we continued to hear from this poor child. First, he was yelling in anger at Vasillanova, telling her he just wanted to go home, and he didn’t want anything to do with her ‘stupid doll’. Then there was a more quiet and tearful moment, in which he was talking to someone named Thora, and he said he didn’t think he would be coming back.

As Aenland crossed onto the plateau, the doll activated from his proximity. He was hit by a Ray of Frost from the doll—which was actually a Guardian Doll. A construct powered by a soul gem in its left eye—in this case a particular twisted creation considering it appeared Vasillanova had decided her souls of choice were children.

Nestian charged the doll. It locked him with its gaze and tried to cast a mind dominating effect on him as it said in the little boy’s voice “You want to help Dominik, don’t you?”, but Nestian was stronger than the doll and shrugged it off.

I hit the cursed thing with a Ray of Sickening—as despite being a construct this particular creature was susceptible to these types of attacks, perhaps due to its reliance on a soul. Edeya hit it with an Evil Eye.

Then Aenland decided to get fancy and try to get into flanking position instead of just going for what was closest or just shooting the damn thing. And so instead of getting to hit it at all, he got stabbed in the ribs by a freezing cold dagger and became paralyzed by cold. Again.

Fucking Aenland.

Anyways Nestian managed to keep him from getting his throat immediately slit by grabbing the doll and cutting straight through it in one final expect chop—soulgem and all.

We were all pretty quiet afterwards, and moved on quickly after Aenland and I confirmed that the Haunt was really gone.

I’m going to kill that bitch Vasillanova. And I’m going to make her into a bloody skeleton so her soul is trapped in service to me, for a long long time. I’m going to make sure she understands the same suffering every single child she murdered felt, tenfold.

…Anyways. After that we had an encounter with a giant white weasel, which Nestian calmed and helped us pass by without a fight. And from there we were almost at the heart of the forest—and the winter portal.

The snow storm had grown unbearable here, we could barely see an inch in front of our noses, and it was incredibly difficult to walk without snowshoes. Ah. Just like home.

Man I never quite realized just how much Irrisen sucked as a kid.

We ended up in a fight with a fey in these conditions, if you could really call it that. A bunch of blind swinging in the snow, on both sides. Our blind swinging was just better.

Then we reached the eye of the storm.

There was no snow where Teb Nottin awaited us. Trees surrounded a clearing, and the snow swirled around us, spat out of a portal in the center. The moss troll put up a fight—he did a number on Aenland when the elf got too close. But I set him on fire, and he panicked when that happened and looked like he was going to actually turn and run. But Nestian cut him down before he could.

I regretted not turning him into a bloody skeleton then and there, but it’s okay. I got one that’s just as good later. I…ended up distracted by other things a moment later.

See, this is when we met the Black Rider.

This is when we witnessed the Black Rider’s final moments of life, and each agreed to an oath—for our own differing reasons—to take on the mantle of the Black Rider, save Baba Yaga, and stop Queen Elvana. The Black Rider laid back into the snow, and the last life left his body after his power joined with us.

Aenland was seeking a weapon to kill a Demon Lord. I was seeking answers—and somehow the Black Rider knew me, even though I shouldn’t have been back to Irrisen before, so I knew the answers about my missing year were tangled up in all this. Nestian wanted to protect his family from Queen Elvana, who they’d already fled from once. And Edeya…Edeya was the most mysterious of the lot. Yeah even more than me. When Edeya hesitated to take the cloak, the Black Rider looked her in the eye and said “Edeya Karanasi take the cloak, it is your destiny”. Karanasi was the name of the former head of the Winter Witches, before she mysteriously died in the Vale of Tears twenty years ago. So at the time that gave me some suspicions that she was probably directly related to at least some of the Winter Witches. She has since confirmed that her parents were Winter Witches, and she was slated to join their ranks—but she decided she wanted to do something better with her life.

Good for her.

I’m curious what caused her change of heart. The Winter Witch position comes with a lot of perks and power. There must have been some sort of catalyst to push her into deciding to leave that all behind. But for now, I’m leaving that be. I like Edeya, so unlike Aenland, I know how to keep my nose to myself and respect other’s secrets when they aren’t immediately relevant to me.

Although if we ever find ourselves alone, and in a place where we can’t be easily overheard, I might just ask her…

Anyways, we gained the power of the Black Rider, the old Black Rider died, we’re Geassed to seek out Baba Yaga, and so we stepped through the winter portal and into Irrisen—some of us for the first time.

Not me. For me this was a long overdue homecoming.

At least it feels long overdue. From how the Black Rider was talking…it sounds like maybe I was in Whitethrone recently? In my own memory I’d never been to Whitethrone. But in my own memory I’d not returned to Irrisen since I was a child, so there we have it.

We walked for a while, before we ran into a giant mantis attacking a man and a woman. The man was injured, in its mouth, and clearly not a warrior. The woman was holding her own with a fiery handaxe and a pick. She saw us and called for help in Skald—the native tongue of Irrisen for those not in the know—and I answered in agreement. It’s not like we had anything better to do, and having locals on our side rather than against us would do wonders for our journey. Plus, I was sure Nestian and Aenland were probably a hair’s breath from helping whether she asked or not.

I told the others, and we jumped into action, helping to slay the giant insect and saving the man before he could be torn apart. The woman—Nadya—thanked us and asked some questions about where we’d come from and why we were here. Aenland was…incredibly too honest for where we were. But it worked out in our favor, as it turned out Nadya had reason to hate the Winter Witches, and was immediately willing to help us if we were working against them.

It turned out her daughter, Thora, had been kidnapped by one Nazhena Vasillanova. We remembered hearing both of those names during the Haunt we’d passed through, and informed Nadya of it. She said she knew Domonik’s father and would give him the grim news. As for Thora…fortunately Vasillanova was in Whitethrone at the moment and had left her lover Radosek Pavril in command of the Pale Tower. While he was still a vile man, he was far less likely to have killed Thora.

As we were getting ready to rest for the night, I spent some time alone. Just…thinking about some things. I had some words with the symbol of Norgorber I took from Rohkar. Before I really got anywhere though I got rudely interrupted by Aenland. There was a fey woman singing at the edge of camp and he wanted me to come with everyone else to check it out.

And thus, we met a fey named Miriam. She appeared to be a pleasant and sweet girl who just wanted friendly company to wait out the cold night with.

Looks can be deceiving.

We talked. We told her about ourselves. Aenland told her far more than necessary. Again. She asked many questions and seemed very interested, hanging on our every word. But it all seemed like a totally friendly chat at the time. The next day we parted ways as the people in camp were suspicious of her and she felt going into town would be dangerous. Supposedly.

We only learned days later just how deep her deceptive nature ran.

In town, Aenland and Edeya noticed that the people in town seemed to all look weirdly like the people in Heldren, and the buildings were identical. After come talk about how weird it was, Nestian came up with an intriguing theory (which turned out to be right). Heldren and this village were connected by a leyline, and that natural magic had in some way affected the way the people looked and the way the town was ultimately set up.

With that strange mystery solved, we first went to Nadya’s house to plan our assault on the Pale Tower (and to meet Nadya’s sons, their grandmother Katcha, and her home’s Domovoi, Hatch.) Afterwards we went to the local tavern, where we got a reception almost as icy as the weather outside. And the barkeep’s wife tried to drug us with tea that had a suggestion effect on it so that she could try to make us leave town—something Nadya after the fact realized they must have done to other travelers in the past, who had mysteriously packed up and left without warning for no clear reason after going to the tavern. We didn’t out them in the tavern in front of Nadya, but Aenland and I both caught onto what was going on. Aenland decided he was going to take all of the tea to go, and when the barkeep’s wife tried to argue, Aenland asked if I had anything I wanted to say about the tea. Getting the hint, she let us take the tea. Aenland rubbed it in further when he suggested some mead for the table.

…He can be okay sometimes. On very rare occasions.

We returned to Nadya’s house not long afterwards, and had our own drinking contest with Katcha. Things were a bit of a blur after that. That old lady can really hold her alcohol. And so can Nestian. I mean yeah, he’s a bear. Edeya even tried to help give me an edge by Evil Eyeing Nestian once. Or maybe she was just Evil Eyeing someone at random. I don’t know—she was doing it to prove she wasn’t a buzzkill because she was the only one not drinking and I was poking a little fun.

Aaaanyways all this to say, I was fucking wasted when the next thing happened.

This compact mirror we’d taken off Teb Nottin’s body began vibrating.

I took it out and began examining it. Finally, I opened it. The face that was in the mirror wasn’t my own. It was a man with greasy brown hair, bad facial hair, and a big forehead. The man wasn’t looking at me, and was talking as though he were talking to Teb Nottin. I laughed and gleefully informed him that Teb was dead.

The man froze and looked at me now. I was expecting a ‘who the hell are you?’ or a ‘what do you mean Teb is dead’ or maybe even a ‘you’ll pay for killing my troll!’. Instead he asked “Calio, is that you? Why are you back here?”

That threw me off balance—and I was already off balance from the alcohol. My response was something along the lines of “How do you know me, I don’t know you?”

The man immediately flew into a rage, ranting that I shouldn’t have come back, and that if he saw me he was going to kill me, before the compact turned back into an ordinary mirror.

I stared at my bewildered reflection for a long moment, wondering if I’d just imagined that entire thing in a drunken haze or if it had really happened (spoiler alert: it really happened). Then I went back to sleep.

Not for long because soon Hatch was pawing at me in a panic and saying we were under attack. So I helped wake Edeya up, and we all fought a bunch of Pale Tower guards who had come to arrest Nadya for…something? Maybe harboring us, but I’m not really clear. Honestly it doesn’t matter, since when did the White Witches need a legitimate reason to spirit people off?

Hatch directed us back to the tavern we’d nearly been drugged at before, where Nadya had gone to face the Pale Guards’ captain. We made our preparations and then made a beeline for the tavern.

At the tavern Aenland went around the side to peek in through a window, then motioned for the rest of us to make our move. Nestian burst in, taking down a Pale Guard along the way. Aenland shot the captain, and I saw an opening. I used a lovely little spell I’d gotten ahold of called Boneshaker and ripped the skeleton from the man’s body.

With a touch of the symbol hidden in my pocket, I raised the skeleton again and had it trip up one of the other guards.

The symbol felt warm in response.

Anyways we cut through the pale guards without any trouble. And those assholes, the tavernkeeper and his wife, decided to side with them.

Hilarious thing. Turns out his wife was channeling negative energy using a very familiar symbol.

She channeled negative energy and the look on her face when it didn’t affect me was just…priceless.

What was even more priceless was the look on her face when I turned it back on her with inflict moderate wounds, pulled her in close, and told her “you’re not the only one who kills in his name”, and let that be the last thing she ever heard.

That felt really good.

Aenland didn’t take kindly to me taking his kill (he’d wanted to kill the tavernkeeper’s wife, but after I saw her unholy symbol I knew I just had to be the one to do it), so he killed the tavernkeeper and was saying something to him about how I heal from negative energy as he did, which just seemed to confuse the man in his last moments.

Afterwards we found another of those little mirrors on the captain. That reminded me of what had happened the night prior, so I told everyone about what had happened. I described the man I’d seen, and Nadya identified him as Radosek Pavril. So apparently the person who is head of the Pale Tower currently and lover of Nazhena fucking Vasillanova knows me somehow.

Well, knew me. Past tense now.

I ended up explaining to the others about the hole in my memory, since I had no other explanation for where Pavril knew me from. Afterwards Edeya jumped in on the ‘revealing secret truths’ train and told us that her parents were Winter Witches, and she’d been slated to be one before she ran away.

Knew it. Totally called it.

Anyways, we got Nadya back home. She had a happy reunion with Hatch. The house spirit had promised if we got her back then he’d help us with the Pale Tower. He used to work there once upon a time, and he knew the passcodes for all the teleporters between floors. He also knew the dangers on the road between here and there.

And so we disguised ourselves using the clothes of the Pale Guards we’d killed and made our ways to the Pale Tower. We didn’t run into the monstrous crow guarding the road because of our disguises, and I talked our way inside by saying we were expected by Pavril and he wouldn’t want to be kept waiting.

Inside, the courtyard was being patrolled by an Ice Troll, and guarded by a frozen construct.

I set a second troll on fire. Wonderful trend to keep going.

You know what’s even better? I got to make up for my regret of not using my animate dead scroll to raise Teb Nottin. I raised this particular Ice Troll as a bloody skeleton, who we’ve taken to calling Reggie. Naming him was Aenland’s idea. He insists you have to be friends with the undead you make, and I fear if I didn’t play along he may well have broken my new toy.

Reggie helped Nestian and Nadya to finish off the ice construct.

We had Reggie break through the main doors while we went through the smaller side doors. We fought a water elemental, then a number of Pale Guards—including some that Reggie got the jump on while on their break, and a second captain who had the key to the teleporter.

We teleported up to the second floor, fought a shapeshifter that tried to pretend to be Lady Argentina, Reggie killed two fey who were completely ineffective against him, and then we entered a room with two ice statues.

I approached the largest doors to see where they went. When I did, the nearby mirror began reflecting Radosek Pavril. He questioned who dared to try to invade his tower. He seemed surprised to see me. He told us we should leave or be crushed. I told him to say hi to Reggie. He broke character for a moment to say that me making his minion into a bloody skeleton was really friggin awesome. Which it is. Anyways we told him we’re coming for him, he seemed to want to say something but like with the Black Rider he couldn’t seem to. Then he said come if we could make it to him. The mirror turned back to a mirror.

And I got hit by a lady with a sword.

Oh and this is the part I was foreshadowing when I said Miriam wasn’t all she appeared to be. Because she showed up here helping the lady with a dragon claw trying to gut me.

Turns out just because a fey can feel remorse doesn’t mean she’ll be any less likely to join a bunch of child murdering assholes. She was apparently originally tasked by Queen Elvana to kill the Black Rider before the queen killed him herself, so then when Aenland went and spilled the beans about the Black Rider and our new role, she decided that she was going to learn more about us and find a chance to kill us instead.

Bitch.

I managed to survive. Between Aenland, my own inflict wounds scroll, and Nestian finishing the clawed woman off, she didn’t manage to finish me off first. And as such I called up my last inflict moderate wounds and pumped it into Miriam—because I wanted her to die for stabbing us in the back.

Nestian and Reggie dealt with the ice statues, which had come to life after the mirror turned back into a mirror. Miriam took a stab at me with a flaming blade, then made a run for it. I stabbed her, but it wasn’t enough to stop her.

Aenland got this kill. He dashed after her as she made her escape, and took the final shot.

He was weirdly distraught afterwards. I can’t fathom why he’d mourn someone who betrayed us and just tried to kill us. She was never really our friend. She used his kindness and his naivety against him.

We found the key and some other items of interest, then took the teleporter up to the next floor—the aviary.

There we fought a sylph who seemed to somehow know Nestian—although Nestian didn’t know him back. Nestian didn’t seem to have any holes in his memories like me. So we have no idea what’s going on there.

We managed to get another key, and entered the final teleporter.

On the final floor we stood before an army of ice elementals.

Pavril whirled around and activated a huge mirror behind him. In the mirror was Queen Elvana herself, along with a bound Milani worshipper. She was annoyed with Pavril for ‘interrupting dinner’. When Pavril tried to tell her about us, she said she already knew about us. She spoke each of our names, and said she had been scrying on the Black Rider’s death. She already knew all about us. She said if he wanted to be the only one punished for this and not Vasillanova as well, then he should kill us now. Now leave her to dinner. And then she called two *fucking dragons* to rip the Milani worshipper apart, and the mirror turned back to a regular mirror.

Pavril turned back to us, and said ‘Well. You heard the woman.’

And so there were no more words. We fought. We killed the ice elementals. His familiar, some creepy goat that talked in abyssal and shot ice out of his mouth, fought back. I slipped through and got the first strike on Pavril himself with an inflict spell. He tried to curse me in return.

Bitch.

Reggie joined me in beating the crap out of Pavril. Pavril stepped away and in one final desperate bid he began throwing a cloud of snowballs at us—but they were not horribly effective. Then Aenland followed up with one final arrow that pierced him in the head—killing him.

A moment later Nestian slayed the familiar, and it vanished in a cloud of locusts and blood.

We found Nadya’s daughter and reunited them. Then—with Edeya’s help (And Aenland’s…attempted help…)—I closed the winter portal. We were officially stranded in Irrisen.

#pathfinder #journal entry #reign of winter

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