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vvatchword · 6 months

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What Things We Have Done

Fontaine jumped out of the bathysphere grinning. His opponents called it a bastard grin, a cocky smile he usually appropriated just before smashing a business off of the map. A couple of years ago, Ryan would have corrected them: “I find his boyish enthusiasm appealing.”

Fontaine just laughed. Let 'em talk. I’ll give them action.

Two big mooks strode on either side of him, smoking cigars, armed with pistols. Fontaine was smoking a cigar, too, an unnecessarily big one that stank terribly. As he strode into the center of the skyscraper that bore his name, he stopped in the middle and looked up. Office upon office. And below…

He laughed and blew a smoke ring.

He took the elevator. He made sure to stand in the center, with his two mooks standing on either side of him. They puffed away like a factory. The other occupants of the elevator leaned away, coughed politely into handkerchiefs, and rubbed their eyes; most of them got off on the following floor. When Fontaine finally left, the remaining occupants glared after him. He didn’t seem to notice. There was a spring in his step as he sauntered up to his office.

“Hello, Mr. Fontaine,” said the secretary. An old woman he’d dredged up from the Fisheries. He would have liked to fulfill his little fantasy of a cute button-nosed girl to be his secretary—someone to fuck in the downtime, on the sly—but loyalty and ability were worth a thousand fucks. So he stuck with Miss Phipps, a spinster who knew how to keep her mouth shut.

“Hey, Granny,” he said. “You got the mail already?”

“Yes, sir. I put it on your desk.” She said it all in that cold angry voice that said, I’d quit if I could, and then you’d be sorry.

He laughed and winked at her, then passed into his office. I pay you too much to quit, you old bitch, and you know it.

It was the ugliest office in the city. He’d made sure of it. Huge ceiling, big windows gazing down on the city, big fucking portraits of his family in luxury attire (which was half the joke, since they had been stuck in a tenement with four other families and his father only showed up on weekends to beg his mother for drinking money), towering bookcases full of books he never planned to read, and garish taxidermy: a moose head, a swordfish, a huge fucking polar bear. He liked the polar bear. He dressed him up for holidays.

The mooks spread out a little and began a cursory examination of the room, as was their wont. Not that anything would happen. Fontaine had enemies, but they were enemies who only knew how to fight with capital.

Paid to be careful, though, you were always careful, you always covered your tracks.

Fontaine stopped in front of his desk and tapped a few ashes into his crystal ashtray, then took the newspaper from the mail pile and shook it out.

RAID ON FONTAINE FISHERIES, said the headline. THIRTY SMUGGLERS APPREHENDED. Beneath, a big photograph of Captain Sullivan strong-arming a darkly tanned man into a bathysphere.

“Good luck getting them to talk, Captain,” he said, and threw the paper on the desk. He looked at the headline for a moment, then up at his walls. There, in several frames, were dozens of news articles he had carefully clipped out and pasted to cardboard. He fit them together like puzzle pieces.

FONTAINE OF FONTAINE FISHERIES: ENTREPRENEUR OF THE YEAR, said one headline, yellowed with age. Beneath, a large paragraph by Andrew Ryan. “Mr. Fontaine has transformed the fishing industry. He has invested in the services of engineers to develop submarines with increased hold capacity and longer fishing times, all while consuming less fuel. He has streamlined his factories, increased his catches, and discovered new ways of luring fish and other sea life into nets and traps to further reduce fuel consumption. In the process, he has lowered costs for consumers, and provided outlets for rising stars in the engineering field. There is no part of Rapture that he has not touched. If anyone embodies the Rapture ideal, it is Frank Fontaine.”

Another headline screamed, PLASMIDS MAKE A WAVE. Fontaine, younger and less stocky, stood in front of a glass window with a big grin and his hands on his hips. Behind him, a shoal of herring in a holding tank; beside him, a woman with frizzy hair, cut off by the edge of the photo. All he could see of her was her shoulder and right eye, which stared out at him sharply. Below, the caption: “The impossible is possible! Fontaine Futuristics rewrites genetic code of herring.” And below that, in the text, Andrew Ryan: “Fontaine is the future.”

Shit, Fontaine had liked that line so much he made it the tagline on his business cards.

Several frames down was the big angry headline, FONTAINE CONNECTED TO SMUGGLING INDUSTRY. Nothing from Andrew Ryan in that one. He had put that one into its own frame. He suspected that Ryan didn’t know what to do for a while, because most of the articles on the subject included the line, “Andrew Ryan unavailable for comment.”

One article showed Ryan Security infiltrating the wharfs down in the Bounty. There were the headlines about raids and the danger of smugglers and associating with dark-skinned strangers, and then something small about Ryan Security and the Wharfmaster teaming up to stop the smuggling problem. One article read: “Citizens have raised concerns about the autonomy of businesses. Should Ryan Security step into the private affairs of the Neptune’s Bounty wharfs? Andrew Ryan of Ryan Industries could not be reached for comment.”

Paragraphs of praise exchanged for two words. “No comment,” said Ryan of Ryan Industries. “No comment. No comment.”

Fontaine chuckled and looked down at his desk, and hesitated.

“Wait,” he said. “Why the fuck did I come up here again?”

He paused, then stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out an envelope. He gave it a cursory glance. The letter had come by special courier earlier that day. One word printed on it, from Dr. Tenenbaum: “Success.”

Chuckling, he turned and marched out of the door. His mooks tailed him.

“Did you find the mail?” said Miss Phipps. By the tone of her voice he could tell that she was saying, You didn’t notice it again, did you? The fact I organized it? I spent twenty minutes organizing it.

“Nope,” he said. “I’ll be back. Forgot that I was supposed to go the other direction.”

She grunted, and he left without looking back.

He took the elevator down to Floor 11 and stepped out. It was a single room with a single door, locked with the latest gizmo from Minerva’s Den. He set his hand on the screen, punched in the code, and then swiped his card. The machine beeped, and the door swung open.

“You guys, stay out here,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

He swaggered into the common room. Three big men in black lounged around it, smoking and carrying shotguns. The secretary there—who was a cute button-nosed thing with bobbed hair and big blue eyes, but too far away to take advantage of properly—waved him through.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Fontaine,” she said.

He inclined his head. “Afternoon,” he said. “Dr. Tenenbaum in?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

He passed through the door into the testing facility.

Sterile, white, silver, clean. Lines of desks on either side, mystery liquids in various vials and flasks, big machines he couldn’t remember the names of that purred, the air heavy with the stink of chemicals. Scientists darted around him holding clipboards and boxes of God-knew-what.

“Hey!” Fontaine shouted. “Where’s Brigid?”

“I am over here,” said a woman frostily.

He glanced around the room. “You playin’ hide and seek today, sweetheart?”

Brigid raised her head. She had been staring into a microscope’s eyepiece so long that there was a pink circle around her eye. Her hair was frizzy—she must have gone home last night and washed it. That happened what? Once a week?

Fontaine swaggered between a few desks and slipped up beside her. She waited for him, staring at him impassively. She almost never smiled. She wore the same stained cardigan he had seen her in a few days before. There were three cups of coffee sitting beside her on her left, one untouched and cold. On her right were four overflowing ashtrays and the greasy wrapper from a sandwich. Most noticeable was her bared forearm. There was a number tattooed there.

He leaned close to her, dropped one hand onto the small of her back, and tapped the ashes of his cigar off on the floor.

“I got your message,” he said. “Success where? With what?”

“If you would to please get your hand off of my backside,” she said, “I will tell you.”

He raised his hand. The Kraut was so touchy. “Sorry, sorry. Just tryin’ to get friendly.”

“This is business, not party.” She stood tall and turned. “Come with me.”

She took him to a little door in the wall and swiped her keycard. When they stepped inside, the back of his neck prickled, and his smile fell a little. The room stank like a farm. God, he hated it. Reminded him of the tenement. When he was a kid, he had left every day just to escape the stench.

“Clean this fucking place, will ya?” he said.

“We cleaned it.” Tenenbaum turned to glare at him. “We clean it every day. Twice. We can not have subjects getting sick. Hard enough keeping them alive as it is.”

The room was packed with cages and pens. There were rats, mice, guinea pigs, cats, monkeys; pens of pigs, dogs, goats, miniature cattle. There were twenty hundred-gallon aquariums flush against the wall, where baleful black sea slugs covered with bulbous glowing pustules crawled. There were only two narrow corridors between the cages. Tenenbaum led him down the right-hand one.

By all rights, the room should have been noisy. Instead, it was notable for its silence.

The animals were pale and dangerously thin. They leaned against the walls of their cages, or lay on their sides panting. The ones with energy wandered in meaningless circles, jerking spasmodically, foaming at the mouth. Every eye glowed like a little light bulb, yellowish and sick.

“Any luck modifying the slugs?”

Tenenbaum snorted. “No. I grow them larger, they develop sickness, they die. I get them to make more ADAM, they develop two heads and extra organs, they die. I try to make it easy to harvest ADAM without killing slug, they die. I try to inspire reproduction in captivity and… ach, almost impossible. The larvae spend part of life cycle in upper water columns, they require such exact parameters…”

“I didn’t come here to hear you bellyache.” Fontaine stopped at a pen and leaned over the fence. “What was successful? Tell me that it’s the cow.”

The cow he was looking at labored to breathe; she leaned against the wall of the pen, her head hung, her legs shook. He had envisioned cows that he could milk ADAM from, like they milked Guernseys.

Tenenbaum shook her head. “It was too hard. Too many processes involved. The cows die after maturity and make only a little ADAM.”

“Then which of 'em worked?” Fontaine said. He looked at the rats.

“Why you look at those?” Tenenbaum said sharply. “They go mad and tear each other apart. Especially males. Males and ADAM production not good combination.”

“All right, now you’re just making me wait. You want apologies for me touching you? Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll never touch you again. Show me.”

“This way.” She gestured to the end of the room, where there was a cage with thick iron bars. She pointed at the corner, and he looked in. He didn’t speak for a moment.

“Are you shitting me?” he said.

“No.” Tenenbaum rapped the bars with her pen. “Mary. Get up, Mary.”

The huddled bundle on the mattress raised its head, blinking. It was a girl, dressed in a stained, wrinkled hospital gown, with tousled hair. There was brownish-red dribble on her chin. Her eyes glowed like lamps.

“Holy God,” he said. “I thought you said it didn’t work with humans.”

“Wrong. Only didn’t work with adults. Killed every adult within two days.” Tenenbaum leaned against the door. “Something about this little one. Maybe it is because her body is still changing, she produce different amounts of hormones… ach. I will be honest, we do not yet understand. But from what I tell, we feed her a spoon full of ADAM, we induce regurgitation, she spit up ten times amount. We do this by ADAM modification and surgical implantation of ADAM slug, instead of changing embryo into ADAM slug hybrid, like with other animals. Understand?”

“Yeah,” he said, slowly. “So you need to try and replicate this experiment?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit. Little kids. You know how hard it is to get those?”

“This is not end-all be-all,” she said. “New subjects are necessary. I am going to surgically implant ADAM slugs on bigger animals, younger animals, see if we get same result. But this is the one that worked first. Sort of lucky. She was only one we had.”

“I’ll find some way to get more kids to you, then.”

He backed away. The little girl sat up on the mattress. She couldn’t be more than eight or so, all skinny stick-limbs and big eyes.

“What’s she in for?”

“Stealing food in Farmer’s Market,” said Dr. Tenenbaum. “I think.”

“Miss Tennabaum?” she said, looking at Fontaine. “Why are there bears in the ocean?”

“Not important,” said Dr. Tenenbaum. “Come here, Mary. I have ADAM for you.”

The little girl rocketed to her feet and sprang to the cage door. Dr. Tenenbaum reached into her pocket and pulled out a small baby bottle full of something red and faintly luminous. She handed it to the girl, who yanked it out of her hand and ran back to her mattress. She jabbed the nipple into her mouth and sucked. The entire time, she stared at Fontaine.

Fontaine scowled.

“And soon we have a gallon of ADAM,” said Dr. Tenenbaum. “Will take her about four hours to regurgitate.” She straightened and fastened her emotionless eye on Fontaine. “You will come back to see?”

“Nah. I’ll take your word for it.” Fontaine had backed up across the room. “If I get you more kids, can you up the production?”

“Yes.” The doctor stared at him, unblinking, slumping a little, her eyes sharp and hard. It was a horrible picture. The doctor standing across from the cage, where a eight-year-old with glowing eyes sucked at an infant’s bottle for the last dregs of ADAM.

I’m going to have fucking nightmares.

“Good.” He nodded. “Then, uh… keep up the good work. Keep me updated.” A pause. “I’ll give you a bonus.”

Dr. Tenenbaum shrugged. “Thank you.”

As he left Floor 11 and collected his mooks, he couldn’t seem to regain the spring in his step. He felt sick. He knew what it was, of course. It was the animal smell of the testing room. Brought him right back down to Earth faster than he could count to three. God, if he never had to go back…

But he had to make sure the Kraut stayed on task. Yeah, she was the best at what she did… but some things, you couldn’t leave up to chance.

UPRISING: BLACK SCRAPBOOK HUB

This Chapter on AO3

#bioshock #fanfiction #frank fontaine #brigid tenenbaum #writing #uprising #this is from 2010 or 2011 sometime #i made fontaine way too happy #if he ain't a cold heartless piece of shit who you are grateful every day is not a real person #then u have done wrong

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laylanatorseventeen · 11 months

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OK, so exactly noone asked for this but I have been reading a LOT of bioshock fanfiction lately and I think there are some real gems on ao3 that I’d like to bring attention to. So here they are, mixed with some more obviously popular ones---

Bioshock fic recs GO!!!!

ONE SHOTS--

--Found Is Lost and Lost Is Found by thewickedkat-- “What if there had been a Little Sister who hadn’t wanted to be rescued?” REALLY GOOD, but heed the trigger warnings in the tags!!!

--results, not causes by cheloniidae “Diane doesn’t need a pretty face to fight in the war.”

--they shake the mountains when they dance by coricomile-- “Around her, the splicers scream.”

--Just Put (Me) To Work by rataplani-- “A tribute to the nameless protagonists of the Protector Trials.”

--Chasing Shadows by cloudeme-- “ She is the first Big Sister, and will probably be the last. She knows she's different, but she doesn't care. She does her job... and hates.”

MULTICHAPTER--

-hey mister, don’t I know you? by presidenthomewrecker -- COMPLETE-- the one where Anna Culpepper runs Fort Frolic when you come through!!! a really great story that I really enjoyed. this author in general is worth checking out, they’ve written more than one awesome fic!!

-The Closing of Watchful Eyes by FOzziliZ3d-- COMPLETE-- “In which Mark Meltzer is saved by Subject Delta in Dionysus Park.”

-lay her i’ th’ earth by poppywine-- COMPLETE-- “ And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil—By telling the truth. Tell truth and shame the devil.” Jasmine Jolene haunts Ryan’s bitch ass and it’s wonderful.

-Watch Over Me by cakeisatruth-- COMPLETE-- “ Little Sisters can be cured in a matter of seconds, but it takes far longer for one to overcome everything she's been brainwashed to believe.” A really good fic from the perspective of a recovering Little Sister!! I especially love this fic.

-Bei Mir Bist Du Sheon by poppywine-- WIP-- “ Brigid Tenenbaum has put the worst of Rapture behind her. That's the good news. The bad news is that a part of it is now standing on her porch.” As stated, this fic is still in progress, but the writing is wonderful, and I’m really excited to see where it goes!!

-With Friends Like These.... by gummysharksupremacy --WIP--- this one is actually about remorseful!Bad End Jack which I found intriguing from the start!! Basically he wakes up after the events of the game and is trying to make his way out of Rapture. Has some Infinite/BAS elements but I havent played either of those and it didn’t hinder my enjoyment of the fic. Honestly can be enjoyed as a standalone and is a really awesome fic!!

-Atonement for Bygone Sins by foorocks10-- WIP-- “Delta wakes in the ashes of failure. In the ashes of Rapture.Babylon has fallen. And yet Sophia Lamb seeks to build something greater and more terrible from Rapture's ashes.” I actually just discovered this one the other day!!

-Here Comes the Sun by Riddle_of_the_sphinx --WIP-- “There are others I must help before this city drowns..... or, basically Delta decides that he’s going to save as many people as he can so they can see the sun.” This fic actually had me laughing out loud, Delta has such a sassy inner commentary. I’m excited to see where this one goes, as well!!

-There Is No Rapture by necroticboop-- WIP-- this fic is basically a fleshing out of Brigid Tenenbaum’s whole backstory and it is SOOOO GOOD omg. If you like Brigid please read this story and give the author some feedback because it is SO. GOOD.

-Underwater Eden by jadrea-- WIP-- “It is much to his surprise that Augustus Sinclair finds he's alive.” This one’s got MAPS and stuff like those really good fantasy books from middle school. Promising, I must say, LOL.

-The Prodigal Son by malice-and-macarons-- WIP--”Atlas wakes up.Death, he thinks, would have been kinder.” I think this one is actually pretty popular amongst the Bioshock fanbase (small as it may be) but just in case you havent seen it, here it is!!

Final note: I know we all love the instant gratification of already completed fic, and don’t like waiting for updates (I know, me too!) but I encourage anyone looking for something to read to give the WIP’s a try, and leave nice comments for the authors if you enjoyed the story! It’s hard to write when you feel like noone cares. If you want content, you have to validate the content creators!!

All the fics on this list are awesome, and thanks to all the creators for producing and sharing these stories!!

#bioshock #bioshock fanfiction #fic recs #idk if ANYONE will care about this #but i have been reading a LOT of bioshock fanfic #the fandom is not dead!!! we got shooters out here yall!!!#so i just wanted to bring some attention to some awesome fics if i could #especially the wips #because seriously!!! we have to encourage the content we want to see!!!

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randomnameless · 9 days

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To continue the woobified view of the Elites and my comparison of them to the Black Eagles :

Same for me regarding the BE, especially because they also literally fought Edelgard's troops in WC when you choose their house, and even if you don't, they definitely still would know that Edelgard dus nasty shits in WC.

The idea that media literacy is dead is quite fitting, because the idea that even rotten persons have loved ones/that having loved ones doesn't mean you're not rotten is a known thing, yet the Eagles and elites get a pass solely because "they genuinely believe in the cause" and "they love and care for each other"

Probably Fraldarius was as devoted to Nemesis as Ingrid to Dimitri, Lamine very well may have been as sassy as Dorothea, perhaps Goneril was as brave and endearing as Caspar, or Maurice was as loyal to his clan's interests as Petra to Brigid's happiness (through a strong bond to the Empire) but like the BE, they are butchers, who relished in the destruction of everything those against them hold dear, lap dogs and rabid curs of someone they definitely know have crushed innocents and scorn the very idea of peace except under their domination.

The only meaningful difference between Edelgard-following BE and the elites is that we can know more about the BE and we are forced to dislike cutting them down even as they refuse to let northern Fódlan alone.

Honestly I need a fanfiction where the BE are called out for that bullshit.

Yep!

That's the tone deaf feeling I got from Nopes, the Deers are hunting someone bcs their leader wants her dead for no reason, but Raph only comments on how hungry he is.

Uh, sure Raph, you're not the most thoughtful character in there, but come on? Some commentary or exposition on what you're doing? Hello KT? Can we have characters be challenged or even react to the events of screen instead of wondering what's for dinner/teatime?

No??

I wouldn't say it's an issue of media litteracy being dead, but more something in the lines of people being more and more "all or nothing" nowadays, without any nuance and conflating liking a character with the idea/image that might project on you : if I like ASOIAF's Cersei, I don't think everything she does is "justified", but modern fandom, I feel like some people would categorize you as a "good" or "bad" person based on the characters you like, and it's just... not what fandom is or was supposed to be imo, I'm here to nerd and gush about favourite characters, not write litteral essays about the Geneva Convention.

Corollary is what, imo, made the Fodlan fandom hell : some people really take "criticism" against a character personally - sure the way FE16 was written invites projection, but at the end of the day, making a Berning Fire Joke is, just, making a joke about a bunch of pixels, nothing more.

Back to the BEs, they can have a sense of camaraderie and genuinely support each other... as they tear apart "people because Supreme Leader told me to" and fight side by side with Bob the Carpented who was turned into Waldi the demonic beast.

Ferdie can skewer Flayn on her father's lance because she is "a creature that has plagued humanity for ages" even if they reached a C support before shit hit the fan - and still protect Mercedes and Bernie from their abusing Fathers. Does that make him a great guy? A nuanced guy?

I think the trope is called "even evil people have loved ones" or something like that?

I don't think so, but he is no random one note villain sycophant either - now, what is the more annoying with the Fodlan games is how this dichotomy is never called upon : everything is just a giant blob or Hresvelg Grey ("morally grey" but only applied to Supreme Leader) where no one really is angry at her, and all the "sacrifices" she's making are off-screen while the characters on-screen always moan about her "ReFoRmS" and "IdEaLs" without talking about the cost bar some milquetoast "but war bad". And no one, in the game, will ever throw this hypocrisy to their face - Gallant Ferdinand will dream about the Opera as he wipes off the blood of a young woman who just wanted to return to the only home she had.

Yay.

FWIW, some mutuals and I have nothing but pure lols about Doro's line in the non-CF routes being "we killed Ferdie professor :'(" because, hey, why should I care more about Ferdie than about random loldier 55 ? Rhea? Felix? Claude? Ignatz?

Maybe the Elites were really friends and became """"nice""" persons with time, to their families and loved ones ?

Does this magically erase what they did before? Will that "good" they did erase all the "wrongs" they have previously done? Will theyr forever escape the consequences of their actions?

In a game that depicts Flamey as a terrorist for 11 chapters only to drop that plot point by the window to moan, again, about her "IdEaLs", "consequences" are maybe something you can eat as a snack, or throw in a trashcan.

So following the rules of this verse, given how Supreme Leader never receives flak for her Flamey stunts, why should the Elites receive any for what they did? Look, Maurice calls Daphnel his friend, surely he is not that bad of a man? Well yeah, he might have seduced women and planted a lot of wild oats here'n'there, but he cares about his friends!

Jeritza likes ice creams and cats! Surely it's more important to paint him as a cat lover than to deal with all the consequences of his stunt as the Death Knight, kidnapping and implied rekting young woman while he was in GM, under Flamey's orders, right?

Calling it now, after eviscerating Seteth's older brother, Goneril might have melted in front of one of Rhea's kittens, and adopted the cat asap. Surely that makes Goneril a "good" character right? And forget the entire "genocided a bunch of hippies living isolated in their village" stuff?

I don't have fanfics recs where the BEs are called hypocrites, but I confess I don't read a lot of fanfics in the FE16 fandom because of all of the aforementioned issues.

#maelor321 #replies #i don't even know if i replied to your ask lol #i disgressed and ranted #fandom woes #FE16 was designed as a game where you'd feel bad for fighting against 'your loved ones' aka precious students #the writing and execution is so artificial that they couldn't even make it believable for a second #so instead we are hit with giant signposts that read 'plz be sad now'#like Doro's we killed Ferdie sad uwus #or even Billy's choice in SS/VW of i don't want to kill Supreme Leader/I want to walk with her uwu #she is revealed to be Flamey she has been warring for 5 long years she caught Rhea #she had so many randoms peons killed #and yet the game has the nerve to give us this?#evening salt #SW!Anakin loves his fiancee so much uwu #sure he murders a bunch of babies and toddlers but don't you want to walk with him to create a galactic empire and kill #people who don't agree with him? including his beloved wife?#people conflate nuance and 'grey' with 'my fave did nothing wrong'

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thisliminalspacedaydreams · 4 months

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2 and 29 for the fic writers ask. 🙏🏻

Salut salut, yes, let's do this

This ask game

2 - How many fics did you work on this year? (They don’t have to be finished or published!)

An embarassing amount honestly. Definitely 30+. Most of them are published now, but a good dozen are hiding around either unfinished or waiting for the other writer to add to it, or I'm just not in a mood to write it, or it's an idea that seemed fascinating for 3 days and will never be finished ever.

But writing fanfiction has been my hyperfixation of the year, so it's been a very recurrent process for me to sit down and write for my blorbos.

29 - If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

Some people I know and some I don't. After reading @sophsicle's Choices, I thought "I want to do that". Whatever that was, at the time, I wasn't sure. Make people feel feelings through words, I guess. But that was only the catalyst. Because then I met a bunch of wonderful people through @imsiriuslyreading's Coven, and I'd have to thank like 30% of the Coven for becoming my friends and encouraging me to write shit until it stopped being shit and started becoming good. They know who they are. But really Lana's at the heart of it, so, her (also we have a ship name and if this isn't proof of friendship I don't know what it). And @hihimissamericanbi and inthesquare and @greenvlvetcouch and crowbarhandler and @brigid-faye for the eternal fun and joy of writing and talking ship and life and fics and editing. And @reubyrd and @chaoswalkingsblog who have been holding my hand as I learn how to bookbind. And @twisted-tales-told for supporting my tea addiction (though I'm going to regret that one the moment I start Supernatural, I just knows it), and also Crouton because she's savage. And that's only off the top of my head.

From one fic I read a year ago, a whole lot has been impacted, and I'm overall really happy about the trajectory of the past year, and I'm very much looking forward to the new one.

#ask game

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 2 months

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Hi! i just wanted to say omygosh I LOVE your terms of endearment series!! I've been sick for the past 2 days with nothing to do, stumbled across it and finished all your works in those two days :,) your tenacity and writing brilliance is incredible!! anyways, ive been lurking through your blog to see what other daemon fics you've been reading or have read (when i find amazing authors, i like to see what works theyve liked so i can binge through those to hehe) would you mind sharing some favs?

Hello, nonnie! OMG, thank you so much! I’m super glad that you enjoyed my writing, and I’m sure that by now your illness has cleared up (watch me answering this ask after ages, god I am SO sorry), but in case it hasn’t then I hope you get better ASAP!

I have a dedicated tag to my fanfic recommendations on Tumblr, which you can find by searching #fanfiction recommendations (I know, not a particularly witty or interesting tag, but it does the job). I do believe I’ve included a bunch from AO3 as well, which is quite often my stomping ground when it comes to reading fic. I just love how organised it is, makes it so easy to find certain fics for certain kicks.

I would personally recommend anything @ewanmitchellcrumbs or @spoolofblack write, and not just because they occasionally deign to let me stick my fingies in their WIPies. (Haha, PUNNY!) They are brilliant writers; Ange (former) is a seasoned Daemon/Aemond girlie with a notable reputation for old-man-fucking and crackfics, while Brigid (latter) has come onto the scene in recent months with an awesome Daemon fic! I regrettably don’t often get the chance to read much fanfic unless it’s directly yeeted at me, but I can assure that anything that comes out of these two is quality work. Beyond that, I definitely recommend anything I’ve tagged as above!

Hope this helps, nonnie! Feel better!

#fanfiction asks

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justerithings · 1 month

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You Have Similarities with Prey, Chapter 2

Read it on Ao3

Summary: The day after Bernadetta and Petra's intimate encounter, Petra is sent off on a mission for the Emperor. When she comes back, she is much worse for wear, but no less desiring of Bernadetta's submission.

Author's Note: I wrote some Fire Emblem: Three Houses fanfiction back in December 2019 and it's honestly been rattling around in my head ever since then. A few days ago I was struck with an undeniable urge to write and here's the result.

Word Count: 3,819 (7,009 including Chapter 1)

Warnings: This is smut. Filthy BDSM smut actually. If you don't wanna see that from me that's perfectly okay! More specific warnings below the cut.

Specific Warnings/Kinks: Spanking, collaring, primal, heavy BDSM, cum play, foot fetish, oral sex/cunnilingus, anal fingering, masturbation

~~~

Bernadetta awoke to the early morning sun shining through her window and the sound of rustling fabrics from near her dresser. As she wearily willed her eyes open she noted Petra, her queen, was no longer in bed beside her. She rolled over and pulled the covers up to her chin.

“Pet- er, my queen?”

The heir to Brigid’s throne stood across the room, carefully sorting through Bernie’s clothing in the small wooden dresser. She delicately pulled a pair of simple pink cotton panties with embroidered hearts from the top drawer and smiled softly.

“Ah, my pet, you are sleeping longer than I was imagining.” She folded and replaced the pink panties in the drawer and continued her search.

“I slept v-very well, my queen. I haven’t slept that well in years.” Bernie smiled as she curled up under the blankets. And it was true. While her ass was still sore from last night’s spanking, the sense of relief that came from it was the perfect medicine for a good night’s sleep. The warmth of Petra’s tightly muscled body pressed up against her certainly didn’t hurt.

Petra giggled softly and pulled a black, lacy thong from Bernie’s underwear drawer.

“Now this pair is sticking out to me. It is much unlike your other small clothes.”

Bernie’s face turned bright red.

“Eep! Those were a, um, a present, from Hilda. Back when we were students. She thought it would make me more confident. But I’ve never worn them.”

“You shall be wearing them today. As well as this, and this, and this.”

With that, Petra laid out Bernie’s outfit for the day: a simple maroon sundress and thigh high tights, with a black bra to match the black thong. It was a modest outfit, one Bernie might have picked for herself. Apart from the smallclothes. She blushed in mild embarrassment.

“Um, y-yes, my queen.”

Petra crossed the room in a single smooth motion. She tilted up Bernie’s chin with a single finger. “And do not be forgetting the… accessory, I gave you last night.”

Bernie blushed harder. As she gulped, she felt the pull of the leather against her neck. The o-ring collar hadn’t left her neck since Petra put it on her. And she didn’t particularly want it to.

“W-will other people know what it means?”

“It is not seeming likely. And anyone who does have such knowledge will be keeping it to themselves, I think.”

Bernie nodded, embarrassment easing somewhat. She could live with that. Would someone finding out be mortifying? Certainly. But if the only people who knew would be the ones involved in the same kind of thing? That, Bernie could live with.

“Get dressed,” Petra said in a tone that was both demanding and kind, “We will be eating breakfast together and then attending the Emperor’s war council.”

“Y-yes, my queen”

~~~

The morning preceded much as Petra had planned. Marianne had prepared delicious sweet buns that, on any other day, Bernie would have carefully squirreled away to her room and devoured. But today the combination of being forced to eat in the mess hall and the pain in her backside left her with little appetite. Bernie could have sworn she noticed Shamir, the Dagdan mercenary and her fellow archer, staring at her. Bernie did her best to be invisible and ignore it. Did she know?

The war council was similarly uneventful. Hubert, the marquis of Vestra and the Emperor’s closest confidant, detailed the movement of resistance fighters from Farghus. A plan was hatched to drive them back, battalions were assigned, and notices to prepare for a march were sent out to the garrisons. Thankfully, Bernie’s archery skills weren’t needed for this fight. Too many magic users among the enemy, and not a flying unit to be seen. Petra, however, was ordered to lead their Pegasus Knights. At the end of the council, Petra clasped Bernie’s shoulder firmly and whispered “I will be seeing you later,” before quickly departing.

“Bernadetta. A word.”

Shamir’s cold, expressionless tone cut through Bernie like a stiff wind. The Dagdan sniper was only a few centimeters taller than Bernie, but her stiff upright posture made her seem incredibly imposing. She cornered Bernie in the far corner of the council room as everyone was leaving.

“No archers needed today. Come train with me.”

“Oh! Shamir! N-nice to see you. I’d love to train with you but I was planning on-“

“Noon, in the training ground. Bring your bow.”

Before Bernie had a chance to respond, Shamir had already turned and began to walk away. Bernie buried her face in the sleeves of her dress to hide their rapid reddening.

“Stupid Bernie, you should have known you’d get in trouble for this somehow.”

~~~

The training ground was eerily quiet for midday. With many of Emperor Edelgard’s forces out on assignment or preparing to mobilize, only Shamir was present, adjusting her bow in the center of the room. Bernie had thought about not coming. However, in her experience, not coming when summoned just resulted in people insistently knocking at her bedroom door.

“Pick a target.”

Bernie jumped and nearly dropped her bow. Of course Shamir would have heard her come in. Shamir somehow hears and sees everything. Bernie gripped her bow and stepped forward into the yard, picking the target beside Shamir’s.

“That’s a handsome necklace. I haven’t seen you wear it before.” Shamir fired an arrow into the direct center of the target, never taking her eye off the bullseye.

Bernie squeaked. “Oh um, thank you. It was a gift.”

“From?”

Bernie considered her options. She could lie, but Shamir would notice her nervous shaking and see through her immediately. She could tell a half-truth, that it was from a friend, but she didn’t think Shamir would accept that as an answer. She decided honesty was the best policy.

“P-Petra gave it to me.” Bernie drew her bow, lined up a shot, and fired. The arrow struck just left of center.

“Hmm. I should have guessed.” Shamir fired another arrow, placing it mere millimeters from the previous shot.

“G-guessed what?” Bernie swallowed nervously.

“Don’t play dumb. Dagda and Brigid have been allies, on and off, for centuries. There’s considerable cultural crossover. I know a collar when I see one.”

Bernie squeaked and her second arrow bounced off the wall beside the target. She started sweating and blushed, fumbling for her next arrow.

“Don’t lose your cool. I don’t care what you or our Brigidian princess do in your free time. But these sort of… loyalties… can be a distraction. If Petra and the Emperor were both endangered in the field, who would you choose to save?”

Bernadetta gulped and thought for a moment. “T-The Emperor and her vision for Fódlan are paramount.”

“Good answer.” Shamir fired another bullseye effortlessly. “Be her little slave, for all I care, but do not make me question your loyalties. Understood?”

“U-understood.”

Shamir collected her arrows and slung her bow on her back, leaving without another word.

~~~

A week passed. Bernie kept mostly to herself. She took her meals in her room, as usual. She used the training ground in the dead of night, as usual. Any time she was wasn’t a required presence, she spent in her room, as usual.

She was worried about Petra. The site of the battle was under one hundred kilometers from the monastery. Even moving at the slowest speed of the foot soldiers, it was a three day march. Battles between the Empire’s forces and the various enemy factions across Fódlan rarely took more than a day. Following that logic, Petra would be back any minute.

Bernie wasn’t expecting any communication from the front. The area of the battle had been treacherous for messengers, and she knew Petra wouldn’t risk a life simply to send a letter. Still, she ached for her queen’s return. The image of Petra delicately stroking Bernie’s cock was like a bug bite: feasible to ignore when one was busy, but impossible in the late hours when distractions were fewer.

Such was the state of her mind that evening. She had locked the door, changed into her pajamas, and crawled into bed the second no one had need of her. Though she seldom touched herself, Bernie couldn’t help, in her longing, sliding a hand up her silky lilac nightdress.

She imagined her hand was Petra’s as she began to slowly stroke herself. Her mind flitted briefly to being bent over Petra’s knee, and her cock throbbed harder. Did she want to be spanked again? It was painful, sure, but it relieved her anxiety in a way nothing ever had. While her mind may have been confused, it seemed her cock was quite sure of what she wanted. She slid down further into her bed. She rotated her hips upward, allowing her to use her other hand to slip a finger delicately into her ass.

Just as she was getting into a rhythm, there was a knock at Bernie’s door. She squeaked and fell out of bed trying to get free over the covers. She quickly washed her hands in the basin by the window and stumbled toward the door.

“Um, who is it?” Bernie peeped shakily.

“Bernadetta. Please open the door.” Petra’s voice was quiet, and somewhat lacking the authority Bernie had come to associate it with.

Bernie pulled open the door and her jaw dropped. Before her stood Petra, still in her armor and the ruddy brown dress she wore to battle. And covered in bruises and bloodied bandages. She ushered Petra inside and closed the door, locking it out of habit.

“What happened, my queen?” The sense of urgency Bernie felt overrode any nervousness she might have felt at addressing Petra properly.

“We have won, do not worry, my pet. My unit was simply larger of a target than we had been thinking.” Petra slumped on the bed.

“I’m so glad you’re alright. And your Pegasus?”

“She is well. She had been taking fewer hits than I.”

Bernie grabbed the medical supplies she kept near her dresser and began delicately removing Petra’s armor. First her gauntlets, and then her spaulders, and finally her breastplate. Thankfully, the injuries to her core were mostly superficial, and had already begun to heal. Bernie then began to remove Petra’s riding boots and gasped. Petra’s leg below the knee was covered in bruises and large bandaged gashes.

“My queen…” she murmured.

“Their forces were in larger numbers than expected. When I had run low of arrows, I dove closer to fight by spear.” She sighed. “The fighters of Farghus are having better training for Pegasus fighters than I knew.”

Bernie giggled nervously. “They have a knight on a gryphon as their national seal.”

The energy and fierceness returned to Petra’s eyes to deliver a scathing glare in her pet’s direction. Bernie let out a small squeak and then bowed her head to focus on changing Petra’s bandages.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, stupid Bernie, I don’t mean to mock you, my queen.”

Petra’s gaze instantly softened. “You are forgiven, my pet, but if I am hearing you calling yourself stupid again, I will be putting you over my knee, no matter my injuries.”

Bernie blushed. “Yes, my queen.”

She returned her focus to Petra’s injuries, carefully unwrapping and replacing the bloodied bandages. Despite the angry ink blots of bruising covering them, Bernie couldn’t help but admire the powerful muscles lying just under her rough skin. Were it not for the open wounds, Bernie might not be able to resist the temptation to run her tongue along those beautiful legs. She shook the thought from her mind. Bernie finished rewrapping the wounds. She stroked the top of Petra’s unbruised foot with one finger.

“At least your feet were spared from battle, my queen.”

“The soreness they are having seems to be making that a lie.” Petra paused for a moment, considering. “Wash them. And then massage out the pain.”

“Y-yes, of course my queen!” Bernie stood and went to grab the basin. Then she remembered how it had been last used. “L-let me get some fresh water.”

Bernie came back to the room in just a few minutes, having secured warm water from the kitchen. She hated to think about what her fellow soldiers thought of her frantically running about the monastery in her nightdress, but she was also not in a headspace to consider it. She pulled a soft cloth from her dresser and knelt before Petra with the basin.

“You are being a good pet, Bernadetta.”

“Thank you, my queen.”

Bernie took to washing Petra’s feet with the same delicacy and precision she used to tend to the monastery’s greenhouse. She scrubbed the kilometers of travel and the harshness of battle from Petra’s soles, smoothing the tendons and muscles of her feet as she went. This was the closest to a religious experience she had ever had. Bernadetta had never cared much for the Church of Seiros.

When Bernie had finished cleaning and massaging, Petra pulled her feet closer and stretched her toes. A relieved smile spread across her face.

“You have done very well, my pet,” the heir apparent whispered. “Open your mouth.”

Bernie blinked in surprise, but quickly did as she was told. Petra pushed her foot forward, sticking her big toe in Bernie’s mouth. Bernie cheeks turned bright red. Despite the difference in their stations, this was extremely unbecoming for a noblewoman. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Bernie’s father was screaming at her. But more centrally, Bernie’s own voice rang out ‘I thought you wanted me to be submissive, father?’

“For a knight to be protecting her queen, she is having to be well acquainted with all of her weapons.” Petra’s voice, despite its apparent weariness, was silky and soft. “The weapon I wish to teach you this evening is your tongue. Have you made use of your tongue with a body like mine?”

Bernie considered the question. She had kissed girls, and boys, before. But she didn’t think that was what Petra meant.

“I’ve uh… not been in a relationship like this one before, my queen.”

Petra smiled. “Then let me be guiding you.”

Petra reached up her dress, and slid her panties cautiously down her legs. She hopped slightly to pull the dress up above her hips. Then she scooted forward on the bed and spread her legs. She leaned forward, lightly cupping Bernie’s chin in her hand, and pulled Bernie’s face to the space between her legs. The small patch of reddish-purple hair above Petra’s vulva felt soft and warm against Bernie’s face.

“Just below the space where my lips are splitting, you will be finding my clit beneath a thin layer of skin. She is your target, but she is also very sensitive. You must not overwhelm her, though she is being the most important soldier on the field. Light, fast strikes are appropriate. As is sucking.” Petra winked. “Do not ignore her allies, the lips and the space below her, you can be applying more force to them. Long, slow attacks are being preferred here. Bait the opening with swift motions along the edges, to soften the clit’s defenses. Are you having understanding, my pet?”

Bernie nodded, rubbing her face against Petra’s sinewy thighs. She began as instructed, gliding her tongue slowly along the length of her queen’s cunt. Petra’s tension seemed to melt away instantly. Bernie took her time here, acquainting herself with the movements that caused the greatest reactions in her queen. She dipped lower and teased Petra’s opening with the lightest of touches. Then she licked upward, stopping just at the clit which she gently sucked.

Petra’s moans were intoxicating. With each flick of Bernie’s tongue, each gentle application of pressure, the huntress princess cooed and sighed and gasped. She squeezed her thighs around Bernie’s ears and held her by the hair. When Bernie started to suck on Petra’s clit, she could no longer contain herself. She came, not once, but twice, holding Bernie firmly in place while rocking her hips against Bernie’s mouth. As Petra’s pleasure reached its climax, her grip on Bernie’s hair and face loosened, and she fell back onto the bed contentedly.

“You are sure you are not having more experience than you are telling me?”

Bernie shook her head and wiped her mouth on a nearby rag.

“No, my queen, but you are a very good teacher.”

Petra smiled and sat up to look at Bernie.

“And you are a good student, my pet. Tell me, how can I reward such a good girl for taking such good care of her queen. Are tou wishing to cum for me?”

Bernie thought for a moment and shook her head again.

“Um, I was uh, actually wondering…,” she began. ‘Stupid Bernie just spit the words out.’ “Could you… would you s-spank me again? I just got such good sleep last time you did and you’ve been gone so long and I’ve barely slept at all and-”

Petra roughly shoved two fingers into Bernie’s mouth. “Be concise, my pet. It would be my pleasure to spank you, and you are not needing to justify your needs to me. An owner must always take care of every need of her pet, yes?”

Bernie looked up into Petra’s eyes. The timid archer looked to be in a daze, drool pooling around Petra’s fingers and running down her chin. She nodded slightly.

“I am seeing no reason we cannot be addressing both needs at once. Stand before me.”

Bernie scrambled to her feet to stand in front of Petra. Even with her standing above Petra, there was no denying Petra’s commanding presence, even when weakened by battle. Bernie shifted nervously and played with the hem of her nightdress.

“Remove your sleepwear, pet.”

Bernie nodded eagerly and slid out of the silky fabric. She felt at once embarrassed and exhilarated. The cold air of the monastery teased her pale flesh and invited goosebumps. There was nowhere for her to hide that she was already very hard. Petra stood from the bed and crossed the room to the dresser. Atop the dresser was the wooden hairbrush Bernie used every morning to help tame her naturally wild waves. Petra retrieved the brush, assessed its weight and thickness, and returned with it to her place on the bed.

“That is a good pet. Now lay across my lap, and be sure to be putting your cock between my thighs.”

Bernie nearly tripped in her rush to do so, but Petra caught her. She put her hands flat on the floor and let her legs dangle lightly. Even just the light pressure of Petra’s thighs around her cock was enough to get Bernie worked up. She resisted the urge to grind, though she knew in a few minutes she’d have little control over that.

“Are you ready, my pet?” Petra purred.

Bernie shut her eyes tight and nodded. She couldn’t tell if she was dizzy from anticipation or the blood rushing to her head. Bernie squealed with surprise as a sharp strike from the hairbrush fell on her ass.

“You are being a pet, but not an animal, Bernadetta. You will be using your voice when I am asking a question.”

“Y-yes, my Queen, I’m sorry. I’m ready.”

“Good girl.”

The first blow was meant to hurt, to teach Bernie how to behave. The ones that came after it were of a different sort. Petra expertly painted Bernie’s ass a delightful pink in soft, even, overlapping strokes. This spanking didn’t hurt the same way her first had. It was more caring and gentle. Each blow was precisely placed, with force precision-calculated to elicit quiet moans and squeaks from Petra’s new plaything.

Bernie couldn’t help herself. Each spank caused her hips to buck, leaving a trail of her precum in the warm space between Petra’s thighs. The pleasurable friction against her shaft and the sharp sting of the hairbrush swirled in Bernie’s mind and body. She could feel herself growing warmer and warmer as the hairbrush left its marks on her ass and thighs. She continued to thrust against Petra in time with the spanks, raising her hips after each, desperate for the next strike.

After a few minutes, Bernie was barely registering the pain. The spanking had wrapped her mind in a thick dopamine fog. Slowly, every single muscle relaxed, leaving Bernie limp in her queen’s lap. The squeaks and moans devolved into desperate pants and sighs. She ground desperately against Petra’s thighs, thrusting faster and faster like the rabbit to which Petra had once compared her. Without her noticing, Petra had increased the intensity of the spanking, landing more frequent and more powerful strikes. Bernie’s ass had become a watercolor painting of ruby and crimson.

With one final strong spank, Bernie came, seed spilling over her queen’s thighs and the floor. Petra set the hairbrush on the bed. She rubbed her hand gently along Bernie’s back and ass.

“You have done so well, my pet. Are you pleased?”

“Yes, my queen,” Bernie mumbled. “Thank you, my queen.”

“That is a very good girl,” Petra said with a warm smile, “You are nearly ready for bed I am thinking. But you have one last task to perform for your queen.”

“I-I’ll do whatever you wish, my queen.”

“Clean your seed from where it has fallen.”

Bernie shakily rose from Petra’s lap and reached for the rag.

“No, no, my pet.” Petra said with a warm and comforting tone. “You are to be remembering tonight’s lesson.”

Bernie blinked in confusion for a moment before Petra’s meaning dawned on her. She knelt on the floor and began cleaning Petra’s thighs with her tongue.

“It is such a smart pet I am having.”

Bernie lapped up the cum, still warm and sticky, but almost sweet. It only took a few licks. Despite the size of the orgasm, Bernadetta had never cum in great amounts. When she was done, she sat back on her heels and looked to Petra. In response Petra merely cocked her head and looked down at the floor.

Bernie blushed. Was she meant to clean the floor with her tongue too? There were few other ways to interpret Petra’s order. Without asking for clarification, Bernie lowered herself on all fours and licked the small pool of cum off the ground. It was degrading but, in that moment, Bernie would do anything for her queen.

“That is my good pet. Now come lay with me.”

Petra slid out of her dress, electing to be as naked as her pet. Bernie crawled into bed next to her. She still smelt of the road, of sweat and dirt and smoke. But beneath that, the warm familiar smells of horses and fresh baked bread persisted, and coaxed Bernie off to her best night of sleep in a week.

#writing #creative writing #my art #fanfiction #fanfic #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem 3 houses #fe3h fanfic #fe3h #smut #petra macneary #bernadetta von varley #trans!bernadetta

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sushis-brainrot · 5 months

Note

That sounds interesting …. what kind of ideas for Basim and Eivor? And that’s alright if you ever did write it when you have time I would love to hear it and read it!

I was also a bit shy at first since my ship wasn’t popular either but once I submitted it I realised how silly and wrong I was, the community is absolutely amazing. I’ve met so many nice people through fanfiction and even made a few friends here and there. You’ll find there’s nothing to be afraid of.

The Valhalla and Odyssey community on fanfiction are absolutely amazing. As for recommendations out of all your ships I only know one (Which is Kassidas) I might inbox you privately about it. And lol there’s a chance you might have seen my fics as well since I’m on A03.

What is your username? If you don’t mind sharing it out with us. So I can keep an eye out if you do post fics. I might even add you as well on there. If you don’t mind .

I don't mind at all! :D I go by Risushi on AO3 :D But you have me much intrigued as to which fics you might have written👀

As for ideas, at the moment, I have two for some Eivor/Basim stuff 🫣 Now it remains to be seen if I ever get to write them....... 😶

Celebration Mostly fluff, maybe smut... with a drizzle of sad 🥺

During a feast in Raventhorpe sometime after The Siege of Portcestre - maybe during Yule or Ostara. Eivor finds Basim observing the celebrations and takes it upon herself to make him join the revelry. Eivor, drunk on festivities and sweetest mead, miraculously manages to convince the master assassin to join her and the clan for a dance.

The night continues its celebrations - Basim lets some of his walls drop and surprisingly enjoys himself. They talk, they bond. Basim pokes some fun at Eivor. At some point, she kisses him, to shut him up. Smirking she pulls away, "Do you taste my heart, sly-tongue? Is the taste enough to sate your hunger or does it leave you craving more?"

Basim seizes the unspoken invitation, claiming her lips with a hunger akin to a man starved.

Eventually, it ends on Eivor, lost in thought at Gunnar and Brigid's wedding. With heart aching, she finds herself wishing Basim was there.

Fates of Two Sometime around 861-865 - before Valhalla and during Mirage. Based heavily on a "what if" scenario. Young Basim is such a sweetheart, and I couldn't help but wonder what it might be like if he and Eivor met during Mirage.

Baghdad. Basim is a newly initiated assassin - Eivor a thrall from the North, whom Basim is tasked with freeing, and then protecting.

Eivor holds his gaze, "If you're willing to stand with me, I won't turn you away. For now." Basim answered with a smile that touched his eyes. "For now," he agreed.

Basim has no idea why Roshan wants him to guard Eivor - as the Norse seems perfectly capable of defending herself - but for now, he doesn't question his mentor.

As the assassin tasked to protect Eivor from harm, it seems like Basim continuously gets her in trouble instead.

Sometimes, Basim finds himself trying to impress her, swinging his sword with an added flair. Flashing her a grin before disappearing into a crowd. Stealing sweet apples for her just to see a glimpse of her smile. Sometimes it gets him caught.

He grabs her hand, vaulting over walls and running over rooftops, never letting go as he guides her.

Eivor laughs. Loud and free. And suddenly, it's all worth it to him.

I have a few ideas for where this one could go, but I haven't gotten to work a whole lot on them, yet 😜

I've come to realize though, that this one, on some points, can sound a little like @newengland-shrike / TheAmberOuroboros' Past Voices Call My Name/No Quiet Life for Me, so I want to check with them if it'd be okay for me to write it before I do anything 😌

But, until then, it has a little mood board that makes me very happy 🥺

#ac #ac valhalla #ac mirage #eivor x basim #basim #eivor #ask #mywriting #thought #my thoughts #if only there were more hours in a day 😭#I'm realising these ideas are pretty cheesy..... oh well

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crystalninjaphoenix · 2 months

Text

Escape From Suilthair

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Thirty-Five

A JSE Fanfic

After so long of Chase and Jameson being stuck in this city, it's finally time for them to leave. Marvin, Jackie, Henrik, and the rest of the Phantoms reach out to the two of them, and they make a plan to get them out of the city. Chase wants to say goodbye to Amabel one last time, so they wait until morning. But... things quickly go awry. And yeah. It's a long chapter so I'm not going to spend too long on the author's note. Hope you guys enjoy!

Previous Part | | From the Start | More AU | Read on AO3: CrystalNinjaPhoenix

Taglist: @brokentimewatch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marvin woke everyone up before the sun rose, going around the boat and shaking everyone until they were roused from sleep. He merely said, “I found them. Help me get the others up.” It didn’t take long. Soon, everyone was gathered on the deck of the boat, listening to Marvin as he explained what he’d seen through Draco’s eyes. “A boathouse?” Jackie asked.

“Yes, I know what a boathouse looks like.” Marvin nodded as he paced back and forth. “I’ve seen them before, but this one was very run down. Didn’t look safe, to be honest, but it was hidden.”

“And they are both alright?” Henrik asked hopefully.

“As far as I could tell.” Marvin stopped moving. “Before we all speak with them, I should... Th-they said they discovered something very important about the King. And if it’s true... it could change everything.”

The rest of the group looked intrigued. Jackie leaned forward. “Well? Keep going!”

“I’m trying to figure out how to say it,” Marvin mumbled. “It’s quite... shocking.”

“Ah, just spit it out,” Vsevna said. Henrik nodded.

“They said that the King was being possessed,” Marvin blurted out.

Silence.

“...that...” Henrik clears his throat. “Did you just... say what I think you said? The King is being... possessed? As if... by some sort of spirit?”

“Yes,” Marvin confirmed. “Chase says that the person in his dreams is the real King, calling out for help. Which I suppose implies that this spirit is who we’ve really been fighting against this whole time.”

“But—but—but that’s a long time to be possessed!” Jackie stuttered. “We’ve been doing this for—for years now? If we assume that the spirit was behind all the King’s actions that have been worth fighting against.”

“I didn’t ask for details, I wanted everyone to be awake to hear it,” Marvin said. “So... are we ready to talk to them?”

The whole group gave various shouts of “aye” and “yes”.

“Let’s do it, then.” Marvin took the message rock out of his pocket. “Someone hold this.” Jackie hurried over and took it from him, and Marvin sat down on the deck, leaning against the mask. “I’m just going to look through Draco’s eyes to be sure there’s no danger.” He closed his eyes... and after a few moments, nodded. “They’re ready.”

Jackie immediately raised the message rock to his mouth and started speaking at it. “Chase?! Jameson?! Are you there?!”

A second passed. Then— “—ackie, is that you?!” Chase’s voice said.

“Yes! Marvin told us everything you told him. Are you both unhurt?”

“We’re fine. We were injured a little after escaping—I said that Jameson was captured for some time, right? Anyway, we’re all healed up by now.”

“Oh thank the Elders,” Jackie breathed. “We’re coming to get you out of there.”

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Henrik stepped forward and grabbed the rock from Jackie. “I think we need some more informa—” He realized he wasn’t speaking into the stone and quickly fixed that. “I think we need some more information first. Where are you two? In relation to the rest of the city? Marvin mentioned you were on the edge, but which edge?”

“Yea, we’re on the very edge. There’s nothing but water to my left right now. I think we’re on the... northeast edge?”

“Great, that is as far as possible from where we are right now,” Henrik muttered.

“We could try to get closer to meet with you?” Chase suggested.

“That may work. Hang on a moment. Vsevna?” Henrik turned to face him, making sure that he was still speaking into the rock. “Do you think that the boat could sail around the edge of the Suilthair island and then approach at the edge where Chase and Jameson are.”

Vsevna frowned. “Perhaps, but... ah, can they hear me speak right now?”

“Oh! No, you need to be holding it. Here.” Henrik passed the message stone to him.

“Thank you.” Vsevna smiled at him, then turned serious again. “We could do as sova says and sail around to meet you. But the problem is that it will be very noticeable. Boats carrying goods to Suilthair can only dock at the South Dock. And that is only if they are carrying something very heavy or hard to transport. More usually, cargo is required to be unloaded on the shore, transferred to a ferry, and then taken to Suilthair. If the King’s people notice a boat sailing around the city, they will raise an alarm. If we are lucky, they will send out boats to board us. If we are unlucky, they will send wizard spells at us from the shore hoping to sink us.”

“That’s... a lot,” Chase said slowly. “So... no boats at all go around Suilthair? What about a boat sailing from the north to the south? Or from the south to the north? Not stopping in the city, but continuing past, down the Muinra Avon and through the Green Lake. Could you pretend to be one of those?”

“Those boats do exist, but we will have to get right up to the city for you to board,” Vsevna explained. “And that will be suspicious.”

“Oh! What if you we don’t get right up to the city?” Marvin suggested.

Vsevna walked over. “Hold on a moment, Marvin, explain that with the rock in hand.”

Marvin held out his hand for the rock—eyes still closed while he saw through Draco’s eyes—and started speaking into it. “We could find some rowboats or some such. Our boat could sail out around the city, not getting close to it, and then you could come out to meet us in a rowboat.”

“That’s a good idea, but... uh...” Chase hesitated. “I don’t think... there are any rowboats anywhere in Suilthair.”

The group of Phantoms muttered darkly. “Are you sure?” Marvin asked. “I didn’t see any while I was there, true, but one of Suilthair’s main trades is fish from the lake. There must be rowboats.”

A moment passed. Then Chase’s voice returned. “Jameson says that three years ago the King made it illegal for anyone to own boats of their own. All boats have to be rented from the ferry dock—the one on the shore, not the one in Suilthair.”

“What a crock of shit!” Marvin growled.

Jackie walked over and took the rock. “The King must want to control ways in and out of the city. He seems awful keen to control the waters in general, actually. We heard tell while on the move that he’s building up a navy—a real, proper navy.”

“That’s... worrying,” Chase said slowly. “Um... hang on, Jameson is suggesting something.” A few moments passed. Then he returned. “Jameson thinks that some of you should rent a rowboat from the ferry dock. You can sail it up to the edge where we’re waiting, and meanwhile, your main boat can sail around the lake. Once the rowboat picks us up, it rows out to meet the boat.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “That’s a good plan. Or at least, the bones of a good plan.” He looked around at the rest of the group. “Any better ideas?” No one spoke up. “Great. It should be a small group of us who go get the rowboat. Who wants to come?”

“I think I should,” Marvin said. “I can keep watch on them through Draco. Make sure that we’re in the right locations to meet each other.”

“I will stay on the ship, then,” Henrik announced. “We have already taken a big risk by taking all our leaders on this trip. We should not make the risk worse by putting all of us in a small boat.”

“That’s true...” Jackie said. “Marvin’s our lookout, then. We should take two more people. Good fighters. I can be one, if there’s just one other.”

One of Vsevna’s crew raised a hand. “You’re still two leaders in a small boat.”

Jackie laughed. “That’s true, too. But I’m a very good fighter. And this is an important mission. We need very good fighters.”

“In that case, take Mona with you,” Vsevna suggested, pointing out a woman with short black hair and a cat mask. “She’s handy with a blade.”

“You don’t want to go, Captain?” Mona asked.

Vsevna shook his head. “My skills are better suited on the ship, I think.” Not to mention Henrik was staying, too. Everyone noticed the way the two of them were leaning close to each other. Still so early into their official courtship, they don’t want to leave each other, and everyone knows.

For once, Jackie doesn’t send Henrik a teasing look. This was not the time. “That’s settled, then,” he said. “Chase, Jameson, I’m going to reach you with a rowboat, along with Marvin and one of Vsevna’s crew, Mona.”

“A wolf and two cats!” Someone commented, and Marvin rolled his eyes.

“Great,” Chase said. “When... when are you planning on doing this?”

“Well, I hear fishing happens early in the morning, so we’d have to act soon or wait until tomorrow if we want to blend in with the fishers renting boats.”

“Um... how early?” Chase asked. “Because, um... well... a-a little bit after sunrise, someone... m-my daughter shows up.”

Jackie inhaled sharply. “You found your family?!” he said excitedly. “Then we need to get them out of there!”

“I—I don’t think that’s... possible,” Chase said. “I-it’ll be dangerous. And... Stacia, my wife... she’s been... enchanted. I think everyone from my old city was. They want to stay here. They have whole new names and lives and everything. Sh-she wouldn’t... she wouldn’t listen to me, if I tried to get her out of here. And... if I took the children... she might... I-I don’t know what she would do, but it won’t be good for anyone.”

Silence. Jackie and Henrik looked at each other, aghast. Even Marvin opened his eyes to stare at the other two with wide-eyed disbelief. “Marvin, is there any way to break an enchantment?” Henrik asked. “Perhaps with wizardry?”

“I-it varies depending on who’s been enchanted,” Marvin stammered. “And how long they’ve been under the spell. In... in any case, I don’t... know any spells to do it. I’ve been trying to remember some ever since we learned the truth about the King, but I haven’t, a-and I couldn’t exactly research spells this past fortnight.”

“If you guys are talking about ways to break the enchantment... don’t,” Chase said quietly. “It’s fine. They’re safe here, at least. And I think they’ll continue to be. I guess I don’t know that for sure... but call it an instinct. Anyway, they’ll definitely be in more danger with us than here. So... I-I can’t.”

More silence. Then Jackie took a deep breath. “If you don’t want to try, we won’t,” he said into the message rock.

“But um... like I was saying, a little after sunrise, my daughter shows up,” Chase continued. “I want to say goodbye to her.”

“We can make sure you have time to do that,” Jackie said softly.

“Thank you,” Chase said, his voice just as quiet. “Um... is there anything else?”

“Specifics on our end, but you just need to know to watch out for our boat,” Jackie said. “We’ll probably put our masks on as we get close, so watch for that.”

“We will. Thank you.”

“Be careful,” Jackie said.

“You as well.”

And with that, Jackie lowered the message rock. He looked around at the others. “Well... sounds like we have to prepare.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chase paced across the floor, glancing through the crack in the ajar door whenever he got to the right angle to. No sign of anyone outside. No sign at all, even as the sun slowly rose and lit the wooden walkways with watery gray light. Jameson stood in the corner of the boathouse, going over some of the defense drills that Chase had been teaching him. Both of them were nervous. Chase couldn’t think about anything but the upcoming escape, mind filled with dread for what might happen.

Until, eventually, he saw Amabel walking up the path towards the boathouse. Chase immediately stopped walking and opened the door a crack. She normally waved and hurried up when she caught sight of him moving the door. But today she just smiled and continued forward normally. She squeezed into the door through the gap Chase had open. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, Amy.” Chase smiled at her, then became serious again. “Is everything good?”

“Hmm? Yea, why d’you ask?”

“You just seem a bit less excited than normal,” Chase said.

“Maybe I am.” Amabel shrugged—and then her eyes landed on Draco, curled up on the floor, and gasped. “Kitty!”

Chase laughed. “Yep! Kitty. He belongs to a friend of mine.”

“Can I pet him?”

“You can try.”

Amabel nodded, taking her new task seriously, and slowly approached Draco. She held her hand out. Draco sniffed it. And when he didn’t turn away she started petting him, making little “aww” noises as she did.

Chase let her do that for a moment, watching with a faint smile. Jameson stopped his drills and walked over to the boathouse’s door, peering out through the gap. “Um... Amabel,” Chase finally said. “He suddenly arrived here with news. It’s... it’s time for us to go.”

Amabel looked at him. “You’re leaving? When?”

“As soon as possible,” Chase said. “Now, maybe. But... I wanted to tell you. A-and you can tell Quentin when you get home.” He crouched down so their eyes were level. “And I want to remind you that it’s not because of you, or Quentin, or Mom. I don’t want to leave, but I have to. We’ll see each other again. I love you.”

Before Amabel could say anything in response, Jameson inhaled sharply and looked back at them. Chase? There are warriors outside.

Chase’s attention immediately sharpened. He straightened up and walked over, peering through the gap next to Jameson. There were indeed warriors outside. Right outside. Wearing the royal crest. And walking directly towards the boathouse at the end of the walkway. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Do they know we’re here?!”

I don’t know! But they’re blocking the way out!

“They are.” Chase nodded. “Alright. We’re going to have to swim for it. Through the hole in the floor, just like last time.”

Jameson nodded. He didn’t look happy about it, but he sat on the edge of the hole, his legs dangling in the water. What about your daughter and Draco?

Amabel scooped Draco into her arms, holding him so his back legs stuck out. “I’ll go distract them!” she said, and ran right out of the door and towards the warriors.

“Amy, no—!” Chase hissed.

But it was too late. She was running right up to the warrior in front, saying something. The warriors stopped, all of them looking down at her. One at the back pushed to the front. They were wearing a helmet that covered all of their features. Amabel tried to talk to them. The helmeted warrior looked down at her, completely expressionless—and then grabbed her by the arm. The other warriors ran up to the boathouse.

Fear surged through Chase’s chest. “No!” he shouted, and he burst out through the doorway, immediately grabbing the nearest warrior and throwing them to the ground. The other two nearest backed up, starting to draw their swords, so Chase bent over and grabbed the sword from the fallen warrior’s sheathe and quickly blocked their strikes. He put all his effort into pushing the swords back—

And then Jameson appeared, shoving one of the warriors off the side of the walkway and into the lake. Without the second sword pushing back against him Chase’s efforts sent his sword flying forward, knocking the warrior’s aside and digging into their arm. They didn’t flinch, though, and swung their sword back around. Chase quickly ducked and ran past. There were two other warriors still standing—three counting the helmeted one. These two each drew a bow and tried to nock an arrow on the string. But Chase was fast. He ran up to them and swung the sword wildly, forcing them to dodge out of the way. The younger warrior—probably the newest—dropped the bow and the single arrow he was holding. Chase quickly picked it up.

While he was doing that, there was another splash, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Jameson had pushed a second warrior into the lake. The one who’d been knocked down to the walkway gets up again. “Hey!” Chase shouted. Jameson looked towards him, then followed his gaze, and barely managed to dodge the warrior trying to grab him.

A sword came swinging out of nowhere. Chase, distracted, wasn’t quite able to dodge. At least it was only the flat of the blade that smacked into his shoulder. But there was still a burst of pain. He stumbled, and swung the bow around, smacking the wood into the side of the warrior’s head and stunning them for a moment. Long enough for Jameson to rush over and tackle the other warrior, who was also trying to attack, no doubt aiming to reclaim the bow Chase took.

Chase took advantage of the warrior’s confusion to shove them off the side into the water. Then he aimed the bow and arrow at the helmeted warrior. “Let go of her!” he shouted.

“Would you shoot a child?” the helmeted warrior said calmly, holding Amabel close to them. “Would you shoot your daughter?”

Chase started. “How do you know—”

A yowl filled the air, and Draco wriggled out of Amabel’s grip, scrambling up her shoulder and jumping right at the warrior’s face. Even with the helmet, the warrior still needed to see, and they instinctively yelled and staggered to the side as they tried pulling Draco off. Amabel immediately ran out of arm’s length.

“Ja—hey!” Chase started to shout Jameson’s name before realizing that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. “Let’s go!”

Jameson scrambled to his feet and ran towards Chase. The two of them then ran off together, with Chase grabbing Amabel as they went past her. “After them!” one of the warriors shouted.

The three of them ran down the wooden walkways, turning at every possible opportunity. Until, finally, the sound of footsteps behind them started to fade. Chase grabbed a side door in an empty-looking building and threw it open, pushing Jameson and Quentin inside before going in himself. He closed the door behind him, breathing slowly, listening. The footsteps faded completely. Chase let out a breath and looked around. This appeared to be a living area for a small cottage. Currently empty. And nobody was visible through the doorway to the attached bedroom. The person who lived here must have left the door unlocked. “Are you okay, Amabel?” Chase asked.

Amabel nodded, eyes wide, looking a bit overwhelmed.

“You’re not hurt?”

She shook her head.

What was that?! Jameson asked. It’s like they knew we were there!

“N-no, I d-don’t think so,” Amabel said. “There are... there’re lots of warriors around today. All over. Searching everywhere.”

“Oh no,” Chase breathed, going pale. “This is the worst time for them to do that! Not that there’d be a good time. But if they just waited a couple hours—”

What do we do?! Jameson asked.

“They—they expect us around the edges of the city. We have to stick in this area until we can’t. We’ll contact them with this magic rock.” Chase took the message rock out of his pocket. “Where’s Dra—”

There’s a slight meow, and Draco hopped through the curtain blocking the window and into the living room. He looked around in a surprisingly human way until he saw the group. Then he purred, and a voice came from the message rock. “Chase! Jameson! You’re alright?!” It’s Marvin, whisper-shouting.

“We’re okay,” Chase confirmed. “Were you watching through Draco?”

“Yes, I saw everything. We’re in the boat looking for you. You’ve run farther into the city, you need to get out and find us!”

“Can’t you row between the buildings towards us?” Chase asked.

“I—maybe?” A moment passed. “We can try to get closer. I’ll try to guide the two of us together. We’ll be there soon! Be careful!”

“We will.” Chase promised. He lowered the message rock and looked at Jameson—then at Amabel. “Amy. Y-you have to go home now.”

“Huh?!” Amabel’s eyes widened. “But—but wh-what if the warriors come?!”

“You’ll—you’ll be fine,” Chase said, trying not to let his doubt show. “They won’t hurt you or Mom and Quentin.”

“But—but they saw me with you! What if they ask me about you?!”

“Then you tell the truth, okay? You tell the truth. Don’t worry about me.” Chase was sure he hadn’t given her any important details. “You have to get out of here! Go home.”

Amabel hesitated... then nodded. “O-okay. Goodbye, then.” She walked over to the cottage’s door. After putting her hand on the doorknob, she looked back, as if waiting for Chase to ask her to stay.

“I love you,” he said.

“I... love you too, Dad,” she said. Then she opened the door and ran out into the city.

Chase watched her go, fear settling into a heavy ball of lead in his stomach. He didn’t know she would be safe. But he was sure she would be safer here than with him... right?

Jameson put a hand on his shoulder. Chase jumped a little, then looked over him and sighed. “I... want her to be okay,” he said quietly. “And the rest of my family.”

I’m sure she will be, Jameson said.

“Yea...” Chase took a deep breath. “Well, we need to get out of here.” He took his bag off his back. “Here, I think this is a good time to mask our faces. We’ll probably be jumped by warriors no matter what we do, so might as well declare ourselves.”

Jameson nodded. Maybe we’ll throw people off.

“Maybe.” Chase took out Jameson’s rabbit mask and handed it over, then put on his own deer mask. “Let’s go.” He looked down at Draco. “Are you there, Marvin? Help us find you.”

Draco stretched, then trotted out the doorway. Chase glanced at Jameson—now wearing his rabbit mask, his features hidden. Here. He held out a quiver of arrows.

“Where did you get this?” Chase asked, surprised, as he took it.

From one of the warriors. I might have torn the buckle loop when I tore it off.

“It’s fine, I’ll just wear it in the waist position instead of the back position.” Chase fastened it in place. “Oh. There’s a little knife sheath attached. Here, you take that.” He drew the knife and handed it over.

Thank you, Jameson signed, and took it.

“Ready?” Chase asked. Jameson nodded. “Then let’s go.” The two of them left the cottage and headed out after Draco, hoping to find the boat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jackie, Marvin, and the crewmate named Mona had found it easy enough to rent a rowboat. The man in charge of the rentals had raised his eyebrows slightly at the way Marvin kept his eyes closed, but Jackie explained it away as him being his blind brother who wanted to try and help despite his lack of sight. Marvin nodded along. It wasn’t the worst excuse.

They were out on the lake, skirting around the south part of Suilthair, when the warriors attacked Chase and Jameson. Marvin reported everything to the other two as he saw it through Draco’s eyes, including their relative position to the rest of the city. They were now in the east section instead of the northeast, still in the floating neighborhoods but no longer on the edge. “They’re going to make a dash for it,” he reported.

“So we better make a dash for it, too,” Jackie muttered. He and Mona were rowing, but they paused to put on their masks. “Marvin, do you need help with your mask?”

“No, I could put it on with my eyes closed,” Marvin said—and indeed he could.

“We’re going actually into the neighborhoods, then, sirs?” Mona asked.

“You don’t have to call us sirs, I told you,” Jackie said.

“Force of habit, you show respect on a ship. But my question?”

“Yes, we’re going into the neighborhoods,” Jackie confirmed. “Meaning we might also be spotted by warriors. Strange... why do you think they’re patrolling so much? Do they know?”

“I suppose there’s a chance Jair had a vision while he was captured...” Marvin said slowly. “But he would have told us that.”

“He definitely would’ve,” Jackie muttered in agreement. “It might be that the King just decided to throw all the swords at Chase and Jameson. Maybe... maybe because they figured out that... secret of his.”

“Do you believe it, sirs?” Mona asked. “That there’s a possession?”

“Do you?” Marvin rebutted.

“I don’t know much of your spirits here in Glasúil,” she said. “I’m from Viargul myself. But I think it’s possible. I just don’t know how likely.”

“Not... all that likely,” Marvin said slowly. “But again... not impossible.”

As they talked, the boat slowly rowed closer to the edge of the floating neighborhoods. “Where do we bring the boat?” Jackie asked Marvin.

“Hold on a moment, I’m trying to get oriented.” Marvin opened his eyes for a brief moment, then closed them again. “It’s hard to match stuff up normally while I’m looking through Draco’s eyes. And the layout of the city is different than it was last time I was here. It makes sense, of course, that was years ago, but...” He trailed off, concentrating. “I think... turn into an opening here.”

The building closed around them as they rowed in between the walkways. Jackie and Mona kept rowing until the walkways became too close, the ends of the oars knocking against the planks. “Where are they?” Jackie muttered, looking around. Chase and Jameson were nowhere in sight. In fact, no one was in sight. There weren’t many people out on the walkways. Surely a city as big as the capital should have more people going about their business.

“I’m telling Draco to guide them closer here,” Marvin muttered. “We might have to tie the boat here and go meet them halfway. There are warriors all around. They might need help.”

Mona immediately went about tying the boat to the walkway, using the rope that came with it to attach the boat to a pole with a lantern on it.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” Jackie said. “But let’s go, then.”

The three of them climbed out of the boat and onto the walkway, running deeper into the city.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There they are!”

Chase glanced over his shoulder and saw a squad of warriors pointing directly at him and Jameson. “Shit! Go!” He pushed Jameson around a corner and ran after him, just in time to avoid an arrow whizzing right past them.

Unfortunately, down the walkway is another squad of warriors, led by one of the helmeted warriors. Jameson skidded to a halt just as the second squad noticed them and ducked down a branching path to the side, Chase right behind him. This was not going well! They’d managed to be stealthy for a while, but there were just too many warriors out and about.

Draco ran out in front, speeding past the humans but occasionally looking back at them to be sure they were still there. He guided them through the twists and turns. Arrows flew past them, none hitting them but Chase felt a couple slice through his skin. A horde of footsteps pounded on the wooden walkways behind them—

And then suddenly, the walkway ahead of them broke apart, its planks lifting up into the air. Chase skidded to a halt, Jameson right beside them. There was now a gap in the path before them, too large to jump across. On the other side of it stood a woman with pale blonde hair and unnaturally blue eyes, wearing a black shirt and riding skirt. One hand was raised into the air, yellow light swirling around it, and the other clutched an emerald amulet around her neck. She looked across the gap at them and Draco hissed. Chase had only seen this woman twice, but he knew her. “Thalia Tinechroí,” he said.

“Lady Thalia Tinechroí,” Thalia corrected. “Though I’m glad to see my reputation precedes me.”

Chase quickly nocked an arrow in his bow.

“Now think this over!” Thalia said, seeing him do this. Her eyes flicked back to Jameson. “Especially you, Lord Jairsolas.” Jameson flinched. “If you surrender now, the King will be merciful. You will live. I cannot promise you will if you fight.”

Chase laughed. “He’s not going to be merciful. And do you know why, Lady? It’s because he’s scared.” He grinned at her, baring his teeth slightly. “The King you’re devoted to is scared. And whatever he’s promised you for helping him, he’s not going to give it to you. Because he’s not who you think he is. Not at all.”

Thalia blinked, surprised. For a moment, she hesitated.

And that was long enough for Chase to loose his arrow.

Thalia cried out as the arrow hit her arm right above the wrist. Her concentration broke and the wooden planks toppled to the ground, landing perfectly back in place to cover the gap. “Now!” Chase shouted, and he and Jameson ran across the walkway towards Thalia, the warriors behind them still pursuing. Jameson shoved Thalia to the side and she had to quickly right herself or risk falling off the walkway into the lake. As Chase and Jameson passed her, the warriors behind them hesitated, not wanting to just push past a noblewoman. “What are you all standing around for?!” Thalia shouted. “After them! Loose arrows!”

A wave of arrows soared through the air—but Chase and Jameson had ducked around a corner, so they all missed spectacularly. Chase dug the message rock out of his pocket. “Marvin?! Jackie?! Where are you?!”

“No names!” Marvin’s voice came immediately. “We’ve gotten into the city, we’re getting close, I promise! Damn it, all these streets look the same!”

“Mar—Th-there’s—Thalia Tinechroí is here!” Chase gasped out.

“Yes, I saw! We’ll be there soon!”

“Enid!” Thalia’s voice came from behind them. “Come to me!” There was a burst of light behind them, and then a howl. Chase glanced over his shoulder and saw a dog running forward, pulling ahead of all the humans at a quick pace, a dog with a deep red-brown coat that’s marred by a scar along its side. Draco hissed and stopped running, turning to face the dog.

“Draco!” Chase shouted, but the cat wouldn’t listen. As soon as the dog came close enough he leapt at it, and the two animals began fighting, bodies flailing.

“Don’t worry about him!” Marvin’s voice came from the message rock. “He’s buying you some time. He’ll meet up with us later. Turn right at the next chance!”

There was no time to hesitate. Chase and Jameson kept going. More arrows were loosed, and more of them scratched them—until, finally, one hit. Chase cried out as it was buried in his back, just under his waist. He staggered and Jameson grabbed him, pulling him onward. A blast of bright blue fire flew past them—Thalia was attacking. How foolish, to throw fire in a wooden town!

The next right branch was coming up. Jameson and Chase turned it quickly. There! At the end of the walkway, three figures with white masks covering their faces. One of them shouted out and drew his two swords. Another grabbed something around his neck and made an arcing gesture with his hand. An archway outlined in white glowing light appeared before Chase and Jameson—a shortcut. On the other side was Marvin, Jackie, and that other Phantom, Mona. Chase and Jameson barrelled through, and Marvin quickly shut off the magic doorway, leaving a good distance between their group and Thalia and the warriors. “Why can’t you just do that to get us to the boat?!” Chase cried out.

“Boats are hard! They don’t stay still!” Marvin said. “I tried it out a couple times on the journey over but—” Suddenly, Jameson threw his arms around him in a tight hug. Marvin stumbled back, surprised. But then he gave Jameson a quick hug back. “I’m—I’m glad that you two are alright,” he said softly.

“You’ve been shot!” Jackie gasped, looking at the arrow sticking out of Chase’s back.

“No time to stop!” Chase said. “Where’d you come from?!”

“Right! This way!” Jackie started running back the way they came, and the rest of the group followed after. “God damn, those arrows!” Jackie shouted as more of them flew through the air. One hit his back but just bounced off the chain mail shirt he wears. “Can you do anything about that, Magic Cat?”

“On it!” Marvin spun around, flinging a ball of light behind them. It expanded midair, growing to a circular shield. The arrows hit it and immediately fell to the ground—but then a blast of white fire hit the shield, cracking it. Marvin cursed under his breath and threw more light at the shield to reinforce it.

“We’re not too far away now!” Mona said. “But once we get there, we still have to cast off!”

“I can help with that,” Marvin said. “Just worry about getting there first!”

“Can’t you do your doorway thing for that?” Chase asked.

Marvin hesitated. “I’ll have to take the shield down so I can concentrate on that. Get somewhere safe!”

Jameson sprinted ahead suddenly, grabbing onto the door of the nearest building—some sort of tailor judging by the clothing in the windows. He pulled it open and gestured for everyone to go inside. They all piled through, and Chase slammed the door closed behind them.

“Don’t mind us!” Jackie said cheerfully to the group of three people working in the shop, who were all staring at the Phantoms, stunned. “Just passing through! Might want to get out of the way of the windows!”

An arrow whizzed through the window at that very moment, tearing the sleeve of a shirt hanging there. One of the tailors shrieked and all three of them hid behind a table of fabric at the back of the shop.

Marvin clutched his focus and made that same arcing gesture as before, tracing a doorway in midair. Light followed his finger, and another doorway opened up, through which was a wooden walkway with a boat tied to a pole with a lantern. “Go!” Marvin shouted.

Jackie pushed Chase through first, then Jameson. Chase stumbled out onto the new wooden walkway, looking around to get his bearings—and saw something completely impossible. He stared.

“Dad!” Amabel ran down the walkway towards him. She was holding hands with Quentin, pulling him along behind her. “I knew I’d find you eventually! All the warriors were shouting about you being nearby! Something about re-in-force-mints?”

“Amabel,” Chase said quietly. “Quentin. What are you two doing here?”

“We’re gonna come with you!” Quentin shouted.

“No, no, you are not coming with us!” Chase said sternly. Behind him, Jackie, Mona, and Marvin all ran through the doorway, which disappeared as soon as Marvin walked through. “You are staying here! Where it’s safe!”

“But Dad! What if it’s not safe at home?” Amabel asked seriously. “The warriors were going all over, into people’s houses and stuff, they’d remember me and know I was with you! And that’d put Mom and Quen in danger!”

“I—I see where your reasoning is, but—but i-it won’t be safe where we’re going!” Chase said desperately.

“But—but we—we’re already here!” Amabel said defensively.

While this conversation was happening, Mona got into the boat and started untying it. Jackie and Marvin stared at the kids in shock. “What’s uh... what’s going on here?” Jackie said slowly.

“We’re coming with Dad!” Quentin announced.

“No, you are not,” Chase said. “Get home now! It’s going to be dangerous here soon—”

And just as he said that, another doorway formed, a bit down the walkway from where Marvin’s was. Warriors began pouring out. Jackie’s head snapped towards them and he ran forward, blocking their way. The warriors drew their swords, and a fight started, with Jackie holding them off as they came out of the narrow doorway. “Get in the boat!” he shouted at the others.

“Get in the boat!” Marvin repeated, shoving Chase and Jameson that way.

“Go home!” Chase ordered the kids. “Now!”

Amabel hesitated, looking back at the warriors a little nervously. But Quentin darted forward, diving into the boat. And Amabel followed not long after. “Ha! Now we hafta come with you!” Quentin said.

“No! That’s not how this works!” Chase rushed over to the side, getting down to grab Quentin. “Come on, you’re getting out of there.”

A warrior broke through Jackie’s defense, swinging a sword at Marvin, who was looking at the situation with the kids. Jameson darted in, sinking the knife Chase gave him into the warrior’s side. The warrior shouted out and spun on him, but Marvin pushed him away with magic before he could attack Jameson. More and more warriors were getting past Jackie, though, so Jameson and Marvin quickly had to defend themselves. “There’s no time!” Marvin shouted back at Chase. “They have to come!”

Chase hesitated. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to drag them into this. But Marvin was right, there’s no time. He let go of Quentin and hopped into the boat. “I hope I don’t regret this,” he said under his breath, drawing his bow again and aiming a nocked arrow at the crowd of warriors.

Marvin and Jameson backed into the boat as well, with Marvin almost toppling over as he got in. But he recovered and sent out a blast of force magic at the warriors, pushing them back long enough for Jackie to break his fight and sprint over to the boat, jumping in with enough force to rock it. “Go!” he cried.

Marvin leaned over the side and put his hand in the water. Blue light spread out with the ripples—and all of a sudden the boat shot away from the walkway, not unlike an arrow fired from a bow, leaving a trail of blue behind it. Everyone else fell down, but recovered quickly. On the walkways, warriors were running along, trying to shoot them all. Chase pushed the kids behind him. He noticed Mona drawing a bow and shooting right back, so he did the same.

Soon they were out of the floating neighborhoods and out into the open water of the Green Lake. Marvin continued to concentrate, steering the boat with his magic. “How are you doing that?!” Amabel asked in amazement.

“Wizardry,” Marvin said simply. “The water is pushing us along.”

“Whoa.” Amabel whistled in awe. Quentin leaned over the side of the boat to look at the blue light in the water, but Chase quickly pulled him back. He looked at the two of them, the strangest mix of relief and fear bundled in a knot in his chest.

The boat flew across the lake, turning in a wide arc until the large river boat the Phantoms borrowed came into view. “That’s it!” Jackie said. “Can you make it go faster?!”

“No!” Marvin said. “But we’re almost there!”

As they approached the larger boat and the rowboat started slowing down, they could see people moving around on the deck. Someone threw a rope ladder over the side as Marvin slowly magically steered the rowboat up to the side of the larger one. The person above leaned over the edge—a blonde man wearing a mask in the shape of a dragon’s head, only one eyehole carved out of the plaster. “What has happened?!”

“Warriors caught up, captain!” Mona shouted. Ah right—the blonde man’s voice is the same one who told Chase through the message rock about Suilthair’s laws on boats. Vsevna. “We have to get underway as soon as possible!”

“Kovatch blein!” Vsevna withdrew from sight and started shouting.

“Get the kids up first,” Mona said, looking at Chase.

Chase nodded. “Amy, Quen, you need to climb up the ladder. I’ll be right behind you.”

The children both nodded seriously and started climbing up. Amabel first, and then Quentin. As soon as there was room for him, Chase started climbing behind them, watching carefully to make sure neither of them fell. Quentin was a little shaky and slow but they both made it alright.

“Chase!” Henrik ran on over—then immediately stopped, eyes wide behind his owl mask. “Wh—what?!”

“I know, but it just happened!” Chase said. “W-we can talk about it later!”

Henrik nodded. Behind Chase, Jackie, Mona, Jameson, and then Marvin climbed onto the deck. “Is anyone hurt?”

“Just Chase,” Jackie said. Chase winced. The arrow in his back was aching. He hadn’t noticed with all the running and fighting, but now the pain was returning.

“Here, Chase, let me see if I can do anything about that,” Henrik said, walking on over.

Chase stepped back. “N-not in front of the kids.”

“Well, there is not much space in here to hide from them,” Henrik said, smiling a bit.

Someone suddenly shouted. More soon joined. Sailors paused their business as the boat got underway to point out at the lake. Chase spun around. So did Jackie and Marvin. Something was flying across the water, trailing blue light—the same spell that Marvin had used. But this wasn’t a boat. It was a square of wood, like part of the wooden walkways had broken off. Standing on it was a single figure, fair hair flying in the wind.

Jameson’s eyes widened. Is that...?

“You have to be joking with me!” Marvin shouted, more annoyed than anything else.

“Vsevna! How close are we to casting off!” Henrik shouted.

“We are moving, but we are not yet to speed!” Vsevna shouted back from the helm.

The makeshift raft suddenly stopped—yes, that’s Thalia Tinechroí on it, along with her familiar, Enid. She grabbed her amulet and made that same arcing gesture Marvin made earlier. A doorway of light opened up on the boat deck. Slightly moving—no, staying in place while the boat moved. Thalia and Enid leaped through, and arrived on the boat. “You’re not getting away that easily!” she shouted.

Every single crew member drew weapons. “You damn fool, Thalia!” Marvin said, laughing a little. “Do you really think you can take out everyone on this boat?”

“Oh, I very much do, Marvin.” Thalia’s eyes glowed yellow. “You know I was always stronger.”

“You have more magic, but you are not strong,” Marvin bit out. He held out his hand to the side, and Draco appeared from nowhere, walking around the mast like he was hidden behind it the whole time. The cat trotted over to his side and hissed at Enid. “You only ever do what Mother wants you to, don’t you?!”

“It’s our duty to serve the family!”

“Good! I’m glad you’re serving your family! But I’ll stand by mine until I die!”

Thalia lunged forward, hands bursting into fire. Marvin conjured a shield and blocked her attack, then started wrapping it around her, forming a bubble. Thalia opened up another set of doorways and walked out. Enid jumped at Marvin but Draco intercepted her midair, knocking her to the side. But Draco was smaller, and tired from the fight earlier. Enid pinned him. Marvin’s head snapped to him and he threw out magic towards Draco, eyes glowing bright white. As the magic hit Draco’s body, his eyes glowed blue. And the colors of their eyes, wizard’s and familiar’s, shifted color until they were the same pale blue. Marvin gasped in surprise.

Thalia ran for Marvin again, throwing back the crew members with magic who tried to stop her. She threw out a hand and magic spun from it, forming a rope that wrapped around Marvin’s arms while he was distracted with saving Draco.

Suddenly, the light from Draco’s eyes spread across his body. He became—bigger. Growing in size until he was as big as a wolf, bigger than Enid. He threw her off easily now and pounced at Thalia. Her head whipped towards him and she tried to conjure a shield, but Draco broke through it, clawing at her. She turned and ran. While she was distracted, Jackie ran over to Marvin and cut through the magic ropes. As soon as he was free, Marvin grabbed light from his amulet. He watched as Draco drove Thalia back against the edge of the boat—and then he threw the light. It slammed against Thalia, pushing her overboard. A loud splash filled the air.

Henrik darted forward and grabbed Enid by the collar. He looked terrified just being near her but he ran over to the edge of the boat and threw her over after Thalia.

Everyone else stared in shock. Waiting, anticipating, Thalia reappearing. The whole thing happened so suddenly that it didn’t feel real. Marvin glanced around. “She can’t use magic in the water,” he said. He chuckled a little. “She’ll need all her concentration to swim.”

Chase let out a long breath. He sat down heavily on the deck of the boat. “Dad!” Amabel shouted, running over to him. Quentin wasn’t far behind. They both stopped nearby, unsure if they should hug him.

“I’m okay, Amy, Quen, don’t worry.” Chase gave them a smile. “It’s just that... this was a lot. I need to sit down.”

Quentin nodded. He sat down, too. “We’ll stay with you too.”

“Yea.” Amabel sat as well.

“Heh.” Chase shook his head fondly. “Alright.” And though he was still worried about them, and worried for their mother, as the boat sailed across the Green Lake and back towards the southward-leading river... he couldn’t help but be happy that they were here. That they were together again after so long.

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