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#grant's scream of pain after killing someone who was essentially like a brother to him

chemicaljacketslut · 1 year

Note

sorry to be a nuisance but you’re like the resident IT expert that I follow and Google is not giving me a straight answer. I gotta fucking ask, in the book did the losers just fucking bully pennywise to death like in the movie? Huge let down if so ngl

okay first of all this is NOT a nuisance to me every time someone asks me an It question i vibrate at an audible speed. thank you

the short answer is no but also yes kind of a little bit. don’t worry i WILL elucidate.

the way the Losers defeat pennywise in the book is, granted, really convoluted and difficult to adapt to screen. it’s basically an altered version of something called the ritual of chüd. in the universe of It, the ritual comes from a forgotten himalayan tradition where a holyman and their equivalent of pennywise, called the taelus, bite each other’s tongues and tell each other riddles/jokes until one of them laughs. if the taelus laughs first, it’s banished for 100 years, and if the holyman laughs, the taelus steals his soul. but all of this is like a super psychic crazy metaphysical battle, not a literal biting of tongues and joke-off. funnily enough, in the actual ritual the losers execute, the first one to laugh is the one who wins, both times.

so as kids, bill does this ritual of chüd with pennywise, but they just have this whole dramatic psychic conversation instead of telling jokes. essentially, bill calls upon the power of positive childhood belief to kill It, since negative belief and fear is what feeds It. so after some help from maturin the cosmic turtle who vomited up the universe, bill chants his tongue twister (“he thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts”) and thinks this whole thing:

(Chüd, this Chüd, stand, be brave, be true, stand for your brother, your friends; believe, believe in all the things you have ever believed in […] that there is a Tooth Fairy who lives in a huge enamel castle, and Santa Claus below the North Pole, making toys with his trove of elves […] believe in yourself, believe in the heat of that desire)

He suddenly began to laugh in the darkness, not in hysteria but in utter delighted amazement.

“OH SHIT, I BELIEVE IN ALL OF THOSE THINGS!” he shouted, and it was true. […] He turned his face up, and suddenly he felt power rush through him.

and thus he psychically defeats pennywise. but it was like they’d won the battle but not the war, because as we know, It returned ~26 years later.

as adults, the Losers—minus stan (dead) and mike (hospitalized)—confront It again, and again bill begins the ritual. except when he tries to spiritually bite Its tongue, he misses. but richie comes in clutch and swoops in and bites It, and then he starts kind of joking to himself and laughing and doing his Voices (impressions) at It, which hurts It a lot. he manages to find bill in this psychic realm and he saves him. but that means It is shaking them loose. so as bill and richie are returning to reality, eddie jumps in and, while he doesn’t really engage in chüd, he does hurt It.

[Eddie] leaped at It, triggering the aspirator at the same time, and for an instant all his childhood belief in the medicine came back to him […] It was good medicine, strong medicine, and […] he triggered the aspirator into one of Its ruby eyes.

He felt-heard Its scream—no rage this time, only pain, a horrid screaming agony.

and then, well. It fatally tears his arm off. eddie’s death gives bill and richie the motivation to push through and kill It. bill has georgie to fight for, richie has eddie. actually though richie ends up having more focus/motivation, because It distracts bill with his wife, who is being held captive.

“That’s Audra!” Bill shouted desperately. “Thuh-That’s AUDRA!”

“I don’t give a shit if it’s the Pope,” Richie said grimly. “Eddie’s dead and we’re going to kill It, if It’s still alive. We’re going to finish the job this time, Big Bill. Either she’s alive or she’s not. Now come on!”

ben destroys the eggs It laid (pennywise’s truest form that humans can see is a female spider that was pregnant, it’s a whole other thing) by just. physically stomping on them. and bill and richie go up and simultaneously psychically punch it and then they just. start beating the shit out of it and tearing it apart (psychically? physically? both i think) until bill rips Its heart out and crushes it. and finally It is dead.

so like, i didn’t include the quotes here but all of the Losers who speak to It during these battles do scream some form of “fuck you” at It and richie especially bullies It a little bit, and this does definitely hurt it at some points (especially with richie’s whole battle), but that’s not really what defeats It.

tl;dr, the power of love and friendship is basically what killed pennywise in the book, which is kind of what the whole book is all about.

#the movie version of them bullying pennywise to death is like. really fucking funny to me though #as the It musical pennywise so eloquently put it: NOO IM GOING TO DIE BECAUSE YOURE CONFIDENTTT!!!#hope you enjoyed this way-too-in-depth answer #this is what happens when im asked an It question i Will go so in depth and have So much fun doing it #also btw i am not meaning to sound condescending by overexplaining i just don’t know how much u and other people know. yk #like idk the movies never call richie’s impressions Voices with a capital V so. you know how it is seventeen layers of autism #asks #it stephen king

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starglow-xx · 3 years

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hello ! when requests are open could you write atsushi x younger!sibling reader (maybe 13) who has a crush on kyouka? i think that would be cute ^^

awh you’re totally right, that sounds adorable! 🥺

i hope this is to your liking anon!! thanks for requesting! (and sorry for the wait!) ⸜( ˙˘˙)⸝

a/n: this was actually supposed to get published like two days ago, but my computer broke so i finished writing this on my phone; sorry if anything is off! enjoy the hcs!

edit: please see this post and this post regarding this request! me and someone else had been double requested and this explains a little bit of the situation :)

atsushi w/ a younger sibling who has a crush on kyouka

(slight izumi kyouka x gn! reader)

she may have been trying to kill your brother at first but ADHAKF she was pretty

your little crush on her was obvious to just abt everyone but her and your brother

go figure

but your heart ached at the girl who to you, was in a lot of pain :((

you truly wanted to help her and if jumping out of train alongside your brother was one way to do that then so be it!

when you found out what akutagawa had done to her in the mafia ooh boy you were ready to throw some hands

but your brother wouldn’t let you and kunikida was ready to give you an earful for it

unfortunately kunikida made you leave the restaurant with him leaving your brother w/ kyouka, and when you learned that he took her out on a date later that evening well...

“nii-san how could you?!”

“huh?!”

“why would you do that?! i wanted to do that!”

“do what?!”

“take her out you fool! i can’t believe my own brother is going to be my love rival!”

“your what?! (y/n) we almost died!”

“but you lived!”

that happened after you fretted over the well being of both your big brother and and kyouka

you loved your big brother dearly, so his health and well being was one of your top most priorities

another priority was his self-confidence and his insecurities

you made sure that he knew that you were so proud of him for saving kyouka and beating akutagawa

you yelled at him after yosano cleared him to be good to go

when you and atsushi walked into the agency that one morning you basically passed out seeing her in that maid outfit

you also gave your brother a heart attack when you woke up literal .2 seconds later

you thought she looked adorable!

and you loved that instead of the blank, empty stare she wore the day before, her eyes were bright and they had sparkles in them

cue lovesick sigh

unlike in the canon, you were the one to first vouch for kyouka to stay at the ada

atsushi then followed you shortly after!

“nii-san stop stealing my thunder!”

“huh?!”

remember that one scene when atsushi woke up to kyouka in the dorm?? well hehe

you woke up in your usual spot next your brother only to be met with blue eyes

you were kinda still half asleep so you went

“oh look, an angel”

then like .4 seconds later you realized who said “angel” was and started screaming

your screaming caused atsushi to wake up confused, then his eyes met kyouka’s and then he started screaming too

just nakajima things

you were over the moon when you found out she was going to be living with you and your brother

it gave you a chance to get to know her!

YAYY

granted, atsushi would be third wheeling all the time, but it’s still a chance

both you and atsushi made sure to make sure she was comfortable every step of the way

the two of you made sure not to overstep any boundaries and to speak in quieter tones bc it was obvious to the two of you that she wasn’t a talkative person

as for sleeping places, your brother took the closet, you gave her the open area where you and atsushi used to sleep, and you simply moved your futon to the kitchen area

you also made sure to go run by to the nearest convenience store to buy her the essentials like toiletries, a towel, etc.

remember when kenji got taken by lucy in that one episode and at the end kyouka ran and gave atsushi a hug bc she got worried abt him??

well she did that w/ you too

and you were frozen for a good couple seconds bc ANWBDKDSHE WAS HUGGING YOU

ahem

anyways

when you met kouyou for the first time ahaha yeah that didn’t go so well

both you and atsushi were there after kyouka’s first job and 😬😬 it wasn’t pretty

your brother stayed with kyouka on the bench outside and you went to buy her a crepe to help make her feel better

you sat next to her as she spoke and then suddenly a fricking katana pierced through atsushi’s chest

and ooh boy were you pissed

bc 1) why won’t ppl leave your big brother alone and 2) this random lady keeps trying to take kyouka to mafia and to leave the “light”

like hell you’d let her

you may not have an ability like everyone else but you’d be damned if you let someone, port mafia executive or not, bring her back to a place that she wants to leave behind

so atsushi, kouyou, and kyouka all watched as you mouthed off the mafia executive (or herself, in kouyou’s case)

you impressed her slightly (both kouyou and kyouka)

i think that’s when kyouka really started to see you if you get what im trying to say

ah young love

time skip a little bit to when kyouka nearly died in that aircraft thingy due to her ada entrance exam

you were sent on the moby dick despite you not having an ability bc you were supposed to try and head to the controls to make the whale descend while atsushi takes care of fitzgerald

so you were there when kyouka was explaining her plan to yk, basically die

before you were dragged off by akutagawa, you heard her say

“thank you, (y/n). thank you for everything”

:,))

obviously, both you and atsushi were devastated but then relieved beyond measure when she came back safe and sound

you were very very surprised when she kissed your cheek after she nearly suffocated from being hugged by both you and your brother

both yours and atsushi’s along w/ kyouka’s cheeks flushed, but you were far, far worse

atsushi was mostly suffering from secondhand embarrassment

“k-kyouka-chan?!”

“mh?”

“y-you k-kissed (y/n)! a-and wait—(Y/N)?!?”

yeah you passed out like how aku did a few moments prior

for whatever reason, i personally hear a lot (like very very often, it’s rlly weird) that first crushes don’t last long and or never work out, but in this case? for you? id say it worked out pretty well (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

like i said earlier, my computer is out of commission rn and i finished this on my phone so im sure that there are a couple errors here and there. when my computer gets fixed, i’ll go back and edit it there! using my phone to post my writing feels weird haha

but as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

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riding-with-the-wild-hunt · 3 years

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Shattered: the Importance of Finarfin

From what I've seen, the Silm fandom as a whole doesn't pay a lot of attention to Finarfin. In most of the content I've seen about him, he's reduced to "the calm one," or even "the boring one." Fëanor gets attention (a lot of attention), Fingolfin gets attention too but Finarfin often just gets shunted to the side. The sedate one. The useless one.

And early this morning, I just started thinking about that. And I realized that, like, there's a whole lot of interesting stuff about Finarfin. So I thought I'd talk a bit about that here. :)

(TW for some violence and death/suicide mentions)

For the purposes of this post, I'm just going to be focusing on Finarfin's adult life. Maybe I'll do one on his childhood later if I have the spoons/people are interested.

But anyways. On to the writing.

I'm going to start our timeline when Fëanor threatens Fingolfin in Tirion. Chances are, since it was very public, Finarfin was there. He was aware, of course, that his brothers didn't get along, but watching one of your brothers take action to hurt the other? That's got to be really upsetting, especially for Finarfin, who seems to be much less volatile than either of his brothers, and much more interested in keeping the peace.

And after that? Well, we all know what happens. Fëanor's exile to Formenos. But not just Fëanor, because all his children, plus Nerdanel, go with him. Oh, and Finwë. He goes too.

Finwë who is also Finarfin's father. What do you do when your father so publicly shows that he, essentially, likes your half-brother better than you? You can't help but have a suspicion that if it had been you who'd been exiled, your father wouldn't have gone with you.

But, because you're Finarfin and you've got to be there for Fingolfin, you don't say anything. You say goodbye to your sister-in-law, and your nephews, and your father and then you set about trying to pick up the pieces. Because that's what you always do, isn't it?

And then the debacle with the Trees happens. Your home is in a blackout. This is your first time experiencing real darkness, because you were born in Valinor and have pretty much seen only light or twilight. You're confused and frightened already, and then you find out that your father is dead.

You haven't seen him for years. And now he's gone.

But you've got to be there for your wife, and your children, and your brother, so you deal with it (like you always do).

And then, suddenly, Fëanor's a Valar-hating revolutionary and you're trying to calm him down, but does he even recognize you at this point?

And then he's leaving, and Fingolfin and your other set of sibkids are packing up too, because apparently he has to go to make sure Fëanor will be all right, and Fingon needs to follow his cousin, and the others want to see Middle Earth. You try to persuade them not too, but it it doesn't work. Well, at least you have your children, you think.

And then they come to you and tell you that they're leaving too. And what can you do but follow them? Eärwen says she won't, and someone has to be with them. So you pack your things and you tell your wife you are sorry and you go.

It couldn't possibly get worse, could it? And then, of course, it does, because when you reach the Swanhavens, the beautiful, pearly harbor city where your in-laws live, Fëanor doesn't take no for an answer and decides to just take what he wants.

And there's blood in the sea and the white paving stones turn red, and you and your children are just trying to stop it all but then you look down and you see Eärwen's parents lying on the pier with their throats cut and you know you have to go back.

So you do. Alone. You throw yourself on the mercy of the Valar and they grant it. You go home to your wife and neither of you speak for days because what is there to say when everything has fallen apart?

But, because you are Finarfin and it's what you do, you and Eärwen start organizing relief for the surviving Teleri, and you help the Valar as much as you can. You light lamps in the darkness until the moon rises. You wonder if your children are looking at it too.

From some stragglers of Fëanor's pack, coming back to Tirion, you learn that Fingolfin was betrayed. That Fëanor burned the ships.

And you learn that your children, and your brother, and your niece and nephews, and everyone else, are all on the Helcaraxë. You try not to imagine them freezing to death, or drowning in a black ocean, or buried in the snow, or all the other things that keep you up at night.

Things go back to normal, essentially. Tirion stops being quite as much of a ghost city, and you and Eärwen learn to live in your silent, silent house.

And years pass. You learn from one of the Returned that Fëanor is dead, has been dead for a long time, and you feel a numb sort of grief but it doesn’t really touch you anymore. Your nephew comes home, serious and dull-eyed. You embrace him and you weep.

It would be a lie to say that you weren’t expecting it someday, but when you open the door to a soft knocking and see Angrod standing outside, you and Eärwen cry and cry. He tells you that Aegnor will not be coming back, that he fell in love with a mortal woman and waits for her with Mandos. You learn to accept this, because there is no alternative. You are Finarfin. You should be used to this by now.

And the years pass, and the years pass, and its a Maia of Námo knocking at your door this time, telling you that Fingolfin is dead, killed by Morgoth, and that he will not be returning from Mandos anytime soon. You ask if you can see him. You hear that he will see no one. You write him a letter for every day anyways.

And there are many more. Five of your nephews from Fëanor’s side are dead, but who knows where they are. Finrod comes home, smiling a smile that doesn’t touch his haunted eyes. Fingon comes too, and sits in your garden for hours, staring at Nerdanel’s statue of Maitimo. Aredhel appears and stands at the seashore, waiting for her son to join her. He does, with Turgon and thousands of others behind him. Aredhel weeps. You rub her back and feel just as helpless as you did at the beginning of it all.

And the years pass, and the years pass, and Tyelpë comes home, wary and weary, and tells Finarfin that Galadriel has gotten married.

But she is a child, you almost say, and then you realize that she is not. Not anymore.

And the years pass, and the years pass, and suddenly your are going to Middle Earth again, with a divine army behind you, and you are standing at the gates of Angband and listening to Morgoth’s screams. You stand beside Eönwë and you feel nothing but revulsion. You do not touch the Silmarils when they are taken down.

You had hoped to see Galadriel, but she is not there. Someone tells you that she is expecting a child.

And then there are your two remaining nephews, desperate and wracked with pain, and they beg for the Silmarils, and you would’ve given them, but Eönwë shakes his regal, feathered head.

So they steal them in the night. It isn’t surprising. Why are you surprised? Why are you crying?

Later, you hear that Maitimo--Maedhros, now--killed himself. You begin steeling yourself to tell Fingon when you get home.

And the years pass, and the years pass, and you wait for your daughter, but it is her daughter that comes first, barely able to stand, her hand shaking like leaves in the wind. She looks up at you and then buries her head in your chest. You stroke her hacked-off hair and this time you do not cry.

You wait, with Eärwen, with Finrod and Angrod, and now Celebrían, who is waiting thrice over, for her parents, for her children, for her husband. You wait.

And finally, finally she comes home, flickering like a candle in the wind. Her husband, Celeborn, comes first, tells you that she will soon arrive, embraces you and calls you ada.

And then Celebrían’s husband comes, breaks the news that their daughter is not coming, will never come. Finarfin rests his hands on their shoulders as their tears fall into the sea.

His great-grandsons come later, and bearing a bedraggled someone between them, and it is first Finarfin and then Elrond who recognizes those grey eyes, that once-melodious voice.

Uncle, says your one surviving nephew. I am sorry.

And, because you are Finarfin, you take his burned, bloody hands and lead him up the beach and towards the city, because if this can happen, perhaps there’s hope for all the others too.

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mercer-safehouse · 3 years

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l...look at my overwatch self insert...........pls.....

lore under the cut so i don’t clog your dashboards and also bc i’ve spent so much time thinking about this i’m a little embarrassed. hopefully it’s coherent

i love fun self inserts, and the lore of overwatch is absolutely batshit already, so here’s fun lore that’s been in the works since years before i got my hands on the game:

they were thrown into the future by unknown means and taken in by two omnics (aster and celeste).

they wanted to do something about talon, so aster and celeste helped outfit them as a vigilante.

eventually, aster and celeste are captured and they’re pressed into becoming a talon agent

on a mission to retrieve an artifact containing a powerful and dangerous ai, they’re caught by blackwatch and the artifact is safely retrieved and stored and they’re brought in, first for interrogation, and then for recruitment--they clearly want nothing to do with talon, anyway, and with work they’re convinced that aster and celeste wouldn’t want them working for talon, so they convert without much fuss and join blackwatch. they get close to the people they work with in the field (genji, jesse, gabe, moira. you know.), bonding most with genji. something something implied romantic tension. this part took me by surprise because i made a self insert to smooch hanzo. but surprise!!!! twas genji who stole my heart!!!!!

when blackwatch is dissolved they join overwatch proper, and when overwatch falls apart they disappear and are assumed dead, but what happened is they were a sleeper agent who got activated while shit was going down, and forced to handle the artifact which burnt the VERY HOSTILE ai into their body and brain, granting them the ability to interface with both inorganic and organic entities, healing them or causing damage. (this is due to a combination of technomancy and the ability to make the body speed up its healing efficiently and safely, or alternatively make all your nerve endings scream)

they’re very much a glass canon healer; they can deal significant damage and healing but it’s very easy to pick them off if they don’t regen in time.

(they can heal from grievous, even mortal wounds, their body pulling itself back into place and stitching itself back together)

Years later, after Overwatch is brought back together, they clash with Genji on the battlefield and are, despite the AI and Talon being in control, unable to hurt him. Eventually they’re ordered to withdraw, and next time they’re sent to interfere with OW, Hanzo is there as well.

They recognize him as the brother who tried to kill Genji and caused him so much pain and suffering, and since they’re basically locked into Rage mode anyways, when they feel actual anger and resentment toward him, they go Fucking Berserk.

Genji saves Hanzo’s life by throwing his dragon (with entirely non-fatal intent, obvs) and the dragon’s magic interfaces with my sona and basically wipes the malicious ai and deprograms them. They wake up, after years of living a nightmare, but unfortunately all the things they did while they were brainwashed still very much happened.

There was an alternate version i still like where Genji manages to talk them into a calmed state, but Hanzo, overseeing the interaction from a distance, sees someone poised to try to kill his brother, and even seeing that hesitation, he basically panic ults because he’s terrified that they’ll be more successful than he was and he’s not willing to take that chance.

same results, essentially, just blue instead of green.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#art #overwatch #overwatch art #overwatch oc #self insert art #mercer adlain

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rosezure · 3 years

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Todoroki Family - My Opinion

MANGA SPOILERS FOR BNHA/MHA ahead!

CW: parental neglect and abuse, anxiety, therapy, Touya Todoroki/Dabi, Enji Todoroki/Endeavor, spoilers, swearing (please remind me if I forgot anything).

Disclaimer: All of the information on the Todoroki family dynamics is based on my interpretation of what’s been (so far) revealed through the anime and manga. These are all just opinions, you are free to agree or disagree respectfully. I do not wish to invalidate anyone’s opinion. Family dynamics have always been a very sensitive and triggering subject to me, so I hope that you respect that if you wish to discuss this with me.I would like to give my own two cents on the Todoroki family situation. As someone that has dealt with abuse and neglect in a (slightly) similar way my whole life, this story hits very close to home. I will try to be as thorough and objective as possible. But, feel free to call me out (respectfully) if there is anything ambiguous or if problematic. Thank you.

I am going to focus on Touya/Dabi and Enji’s story. I do not know enough to talk about Rei’s role in all of this, so I will not mention her. But, I might update this as new chapters come out.

I will talk about Dabi’s early years by referring to him as Touya since that was his identity at the time. Any comments about him as an adult will be referring to him as Dabi.

I was a psychology student for about two years, and when we learned about child development, here is what I gathered:

When you are a child, all you want is to be loved, to be safe. This is essential to a child, as it is what develops them into a healthy and independent adult. And, this is especially important concerning parents or guardians. Effective parenting practices ensure that the child will have a better chance at developing according to their age and needs. This will grant the kids skills that they will use and perfect as they grow up. In other words, children that are well-taken care of have a higher chance of being strong, healthy, and emotionally developed adults.

When a parent or guardian is ignorant of how they can impact their child’s growth, it has many negative effects. In Touya’s case, Enji Todoroki was clueless. This does not mean Enji should not be held responsible just because he was ignorant. Enji knew he was not being the best parent, but he did not know how exactly. And, at the time he was blinded by his greed and ambition, so he would not have been paying attention to that. Even so, (personally) I do not think parents are afforded the luxury of ignoring their bad parenting if they are made aware of it. They are responsible for another human’s life and growth. They should be held accountable if the child develops issues and hurts themselves or even others.

With that being said, Enji Todoroki was a horrible but clueless parent. From what I have understood from the manga and the anime, at first, he had no idea why Shoto was so "rebellious" (in his opinion). He also seemed to not understand Natsuo and Fuyumi. So I am led to believe that he was, at the time, oblivious to how much he negatively impacted Touya.

Touya just wanted his father’s affection. If that meant grueling training and preparing to become a hero to defeat All Might, then so be it. It was the attention and affection he knew. He was not led to believe otherwise. Touya's sole positive interactions came from him showing he could fulfill his father’s sick dream. In a child’s mind, that was the only way to secure parental love and approval: To train as hard as possible and become what his father so desperately wished for.

Then his hair started turning white. He started getting injured because of his quirk. His only source of positive attention, his only hope for affection, was killing him. And it had to be stopped. I am sure in Touya’s mind, this meant he would not be loved anymore.

And then Enji stopped training him. Natsuo was born. Shoto was born. And Touya felt that his source of love was directed to that baby. The baby that Enji saw as a success. Enji made Touya feel like a failure, a broken toy. And he was being replaced by a newer, shinier one: His brother.

When he tries to attack Shoto, he is trying to take back his place. Touya was trying to gain back his father’s love and attention.

Enji wanted to prevent Touya from hurting himself more. But he failed to communicate that. Instead, his words made it seem like his plan was foiled. Touya wasn’t enough, so Enji’s chance of using him to end All Might vanished. Touya wasn’t what Enji needed anymore.

Touya’s world didn’t collapse all at once. It didn’t even crack all at once. From what I understood, it was a collection of hairline fractures that never healed. It was a dislocated shoulder that was never put back in its place and was left to hang. It was a pounding headache that only grew more and more painful over time.

When Dabi was born, Touya had been buried in bruises, paper cuts, minor broken bones, chronic illnesses. Touya was killed by exhaustion and pain. He didn’t die at one point, he was dying all along.

As someone who suffers from chronic issues, I know that the somatization of symptoms and other sources of pain can turn a simple illness into something much more serious. Think of it as a butterfly effect, but all inside one person: Every single negative experience, from both outer and inner sources, all summed and turned into one massive festering wound.

Touya’s mind was a living open wound, it seems.

So Dabi was born. To seal the wound shut. Clean it? No. Protect it? Maybe.

But this particular type of wound (the psychological, emotional one) if left untreated can become infected. And infected wounds are harder and more painful to clean and treat.

Dabi’s mind is a bandaid over an infected wound. It seems objectively okay, maybe even sane. But he’s clearly in pain. He’s not in his right mind. His decisions all stem from the pure rage and anger of a child that was abandoned.

What chapter 300 brought was the perspective of a child that just wanted to be loved. That's all he wanted. And the only love he knew was when Enji Todoroki trained with him, no matter how gruesome and painful it must've been.

I'm gonna briefly and superficially compare his situation to mine. Of course, I didn’t suffer half of the pain he did, and I won't go into any detail as to not trigger myself. But, I only got attention when I was either extremely sick or I was needed as a trophy child of some sort. Even then, if I was ill, the attention I got was so I could get well soon and go back to being "useful". I was an extension of them, at best. But I still craved their attention. I still do in a way to this very day. It's not something that just goes away once you realize how toxic and abusive it is.

No matter how much pain I’m in, no matter how love-starved I am, I still want their approval. Inside me, there’s still a scared child, crying out for her parents to love her. That child is now my responsibility. I have to give her love, nurture her so she can grow with me.

Does that make sense?

I have no idea how Dabi is feeling. And I don’t think we’ll ever truly know. He is fictional, after all, and there’s no telling if Horikoshi will be delving into that.

But maybe Touya is still inside Dabi, crying, screaming to be loved. And Dabi is trying his best to tend to that child, but he never truly grew up to know how to take care of another being. Dabi doesn’t know how to take care of himself emotionally.

I’m learning because I, thankfully, have access to therapy. But it hurts. It hurts to realize the ones that were meant to take care of you, didn’t. It hurts to look into yourself and see a shaking, teary-eyed child begging for crumbs of love.

Now, with the whole "redemption" thing being debated, here's my own personal opinion. You don't have to agree, and I'm not asking you to. Again, this is just how I view it. As a survivor, I'd be relieved to see my parents try. The damage is done, true. I'll never regain my childhood. I'll never have what people with different, better, parents have. The past can't be reversed. And I'm seeing it repeat itself with my little brother. But, if there's a minimal chance that my parents can own up to what they did, that they open themselves up to changing their behavior and learning, then maybe we can build something new.

Build. Not rebuild. The foundation of our past relationship was rotten from the beginning. A new one must be built. A new foundation must be developed if we ever hope to make something of our relationship.

If the Todorokis, really want to reconcile, reconnect, rebuild, then they must start from scratch. If Enji Todoroki wants that, he’s gonna have to start from zero, from nothing. And I'm not entirely sure if Endeavor is doing that, but he is trying, somehow. We don't know for sure if he even has the emotional skills to do so. We can't say for sure that he's got what it takes to man up, own up and learn. But, he seems to be trying.

And that's something I've accepted I'll never have.

So if there's at least a 1% chance that he is truly trying, that Enji wants to redeem himself, then let him. Let their family try and heal together if that's what they want.

I'm not sure about the Japanese culture when it comes to family. But where I come from, a family is an important base of our personal and social development, to the point that reconciliation more often than not is the best route.

Still, I know it's not for everyone. So I respect you if you believe he doesn't deserve a chance. I understand if you say Enji Todoroki should be kept far away from his family. You're right, and you're valid.

But, please, please, if the author decides that he redeems himself and does try his best to start a new relationship with his family, let him. Let them heal. Together. Let them try and make up for the lost time in the best way in the present. Let them rebuild.

I know I'd give anything to rebuild my family.

Let Touya be healed and put Dabi to rest. Touya needs to be loved, he needs to be taken care of like he never was as a child. Dabi needs to be told he tried. He needs to be told he did what he could.

But Dabi is also an adult now. He’s got legal responsibilities. The pain and devastation he’s caused and helped cause can’t be overlooked. He needs help, but he also had to be held accountable.

Touya/Dabi needs to face himself and start over. He needs to face the man he’s become and at the same time take care of the child he wasn’t able to be.

If the Todoroki family is reconciled, I dearly hope he gets to be a part of this new book. Not a new chapter, they need to throw that whole book away and start a new one. And, if possible, I’d love to see someone like me get the ending I won’t be getting.

I hope this made some sense at least. Again, if anything is unclear, ambiguous, or problematic, let me know and I’ll do my best to correct or remove the bad parts. If you’ve read this far, thank you. If you share a similar experience, I’m sorry, and I’m here for you.

#bnha #mha #bnha 300 #bnha 301 #bnha spoilers #bnha discussion #touya todoroki #dabi #enji todoroki #shoto todoroki #todoroki family #fuyumi todoroki #natsuo todoroki #rei todoroki #touya #shoto #endeavor #endeavour

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emmelineparker308 · 4 years

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Father Dearest Part 7

Series Masterlist

Fandom: Harry Potter: Golden Trio Era

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Summary: Your third year at Hogwarts is about to start and with it come a lot of new changes. Harry, your best friend, and crush is in trouble from some man named Sirius Black. You try desperately to keep Harry safe but what happens when you find out some heartbreaking, mind-shattering information about your father?

Warnings: Angst, and suicidal ideations

A/N: I want to thank everyone for the support and the love you have shown this series. I started it on a whim and didn’t realize that you all would like it this much. Thank you to everyone who’s been asking to get tagged, commenting, reblogging, liking, and sending me private messages. You guys are honestly my biggest motivation and inspiration to keep writing! Thank You genuinely from the bottom of my heart!

Previously on Father Dearest: That night you decided that it was better to stop all the pain, all at once. You climbed up the Astronomy tower stairs, having to stop every two steps to catch your breath. Finally, you made it to the top and walked over to the balcony. Upon looking down you were terrified; it was a long way down. However, you knew you had to do it; you couldn’t go on like this. Everyone you loved either hated you or thought that you hated them. There was no going back, you closed your eyes tightly and threw yourself off the balcony.

Before you could jump two strong arms grabbed you and spun you away from the balcony. You fought to get the hands away from you but the more you fought the tighter the grasp held you. “Let me go Moony,” you cried.

“Not in a million years,” he answered. “I did not raise you, your mother did not die for you, your father did not fight for you, in order for you to throw yourself off a balcony.” You wailed although you had no tears left due to dehydration, you still let out a painful cry and before you knew it you passed out.

When you came to, you were laying in a nice warm bed. “You’re awake,” Moony exclaimed as he brought in a tray of all your favorite foods. “Eat,” he commanded but you only wrinkled your nose, your appetite still nonexistent. Moony took the spoon and force fed you a couple of things, and as he cleaned you up, he chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“You just reminded me of the times I had to feed you as a child. Once you stuffed everything I gave into your mouth and then sprayed it back at my face,” he laughed fondly at the memory.

“Moony”

“Hmm”

“My dad didn’t kill Harry’s parents.”

Remus turned to face you, the facial expression that held joy a second ago was replaced by seriousness. “I am so sorry, my love.” You had opened your mouth to explain once again that your father was not capable of killing his best friend, but Moony placed a finger to your lips. “I am sorry because for thirteen years I’ve accused your father of a crime that he was incapable of committing. He loved me like his own brother and would have laid his life down for any of ours. I should have known better than to suspect him of this crime. He loved James more than anyone in the world. The evidence was just piled up against him that it blinded my eyes. However now I know who really betrayed Harry’s parents. I’m also sorry because I let you believe for years that your parents didn’t want you. The day I took you in, your mother, she walked up to my apartment in tears and gave me you. She made me promise to let you know that you were loved. She made me promise to raise you with all the luxuries that your parents would have provided for you. I was to love you as a mother and a father. I let her down, she made me promise all these as she breathed her last and I let her down.” Moony finished his monologue and faced you. Your eyes were filled with tears of joy and of sadness, you were so relieved that at least one person believed that your father was innocent. But upon hearing how guilty Moony felt you grabbed his arm and brought him into a soft, warm hug.

Once your sniffling went down, Moony forced you to drink some of his dreamless sleep potion. He claimed that for at least one night, you needed to rest without being haunted by nightmares. After you had taken the potion you laid awake for a while thinking about the events that took place this year. The year that started off on a sort of good news ended up with the man you were hopelessly in love with hating you, the people that you grew to hate for thirteen years being innocent of the crimes you accused them off, and you almost ending your life. Tears stung your eyes as you remembered all these things but before you could wallow in your lonesome Moony was by your side.

“Please don’t cry sweet child. You have cried enough for one lifetime. I promised your mother that I would never let you cry. Please don’t,” he whispered as he held you close to him.

“Can you tell me about them?” you drowsily state.

You heard Moony’s chuckle as he started telling you about your parents. “They were a troublesome duo. Your parents met during our first ride to Hogwarts. They were mischievous even then. Although back then they weren’t romantically involved. Your mother was such a great woman, kind, compassionate, as well as funny and brave. She stood for what she believed in and never once let anyone bully her into changing her view on anything. It was her third year when she found out about me being a werewolf. She held that secret close to heart, she would brew me all sorts of healing potions around the time of the full moon. Did I mention she was brilliant and beautiful? It was our fourth year that your father realized his true feelings for her. But like most teenagers they walked around their feelings for years. It was heartbreaking and nauseating at the same time. Your father was very handsome himself so you can imagine the effect he had on the girls at school. It used to drive your mum mad,” you could hear the smirk in his voice, “She once went after a girl who slipped a love potion into sirius’s cup with a bat. We caught her before she was able to hurt the girl, by the way. Then, our sixth year rolled around and it was as if everything changed. Sirius and your mother finally confessed their feelings for one another, Lily and James decided to give it a try. The darkness around us was brewing and perhaps because of that we all grew up fast. By the end of the seventh year James proposed to Lilly and Sirius proposed to your mum. We had a double wedding within weeks of graduation. And then a year or so later we were blessed with a god daughter, and god son.

Hearing the happy stories of your parents and their friends, for the first time in months, you went to sleep with a smile on your face.

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

“I told him,” Hermione said casually.

“You did what?” you almost screamed making Hermione jump a bit.

“I had to”

“’Mione the whole reason I told you was so that you’d stop bothering me, and you promised to keep it a secret,” you whisper yelled at her. You both were talking behind a hidden passageway, one that you were sure the boys knew nothing off. You started to notice that every time Hermione was cordial with you in public, the boys (mainly Harry) would be cold towards her. This, of course, lead to you insisting that you meet away from prying eyes. Hermione had laughed at the idea, saying that we are not lovers to meet in secret but at your insistence she caved.

“He needed to realize the impact his actions had on you,” she firmly said, and then took your hands in hers. “For Godric’s sake (Y/N/N), his words and actions made you want to end your life.” A tear had fallen from her eyes as she said this, it terrified her to even think about that night. To think about what would have happened if Lupin hadn’t gotten there on time.

“What did he say?” you asked letting curiosity get the better of you.

Hermione let out a deep breath, you almost told her to not say anything to you, not wanting to hear the cruel words you were sure Harry had said. “Honestly, he didn’t say anything. He stayed silent for a long time, so long that I thought someone had cast a Body Binding curse on him. Then, he just got up and left for his dormitory. Ron told me the next day that he hadn’t slept the whole night. Ron was sure he was crying, said he heard him sniffle all night. In the morning Harry said he wanted to find you and apologize. But since you don’t seem to ever be in the common room, and you appear and disappear so quickly during class times, he hasn’t gotten the chance.”

Hermione eyed your expressions; you were taken aback that Harry wanted to apologize. You were also kind of ashamed that you thought so lowly of him. “Well ‘Mione, if he really wanted to apologize, he would have found a way to get to me,” you responded.

“(Y/N/N) he stayed up all night two days ago hoping to see you sneak into the common room after everyone left. He didn’t believe me when I said that you haven’t slept in our dorm in weeks,” Hermione stated with a bit of curiosity hidden in her tone. Much to her disappointment you refused to answer the question that was hanging in the air, and reluctantly Hermione left to go to the Gryffindor Tower.

After the incident at the tower Moony didn’t want you out of his sight. And frankly speaking you didn’t want to be near the students either. Moony had someone (house elves) fetch your essentials from the girls dormitory and you moved into his quarters. You ate, slept and studied in there. You would go outside of that sanctuary only for classes and your daily visits to Hagrid and Blackie.

Ah, yes, poor Blackie. You felt bad because now that you moved into Remus’s room, your nightly cuddles with the beautiful dog stopped. Not only that, Blackie was subjected to listening to all of your feelings. You had tearfully mentioned to him about your field trip to the Astronomy Tower balcony, and he was crying in pain as well. That entire day he followed you around, granted you were walking around the edge of the forest, but still he refused to leave your side until it was time for you to eat dinner.

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

The visits to Hagrid’s hut were quiet depressing. He tried to be in good spirits but with Buckbeak’s sentencing and his professor job not going as greatly as he had hoped his mood was flat almost all the time now.

“Hagrid, why don’t you sit?” you asked the friendly giant of a man. He was bustling around his hut, trying to seem busy so that you weren’t able to see his tears.

“Nah (Y/N/N), I got to make ‘ou a cuppa tea,” he muttered out, trying to speak in a low voice so you wouldn’t detect his voice breaking due to pain.

“No, Rubeus Hagrid, I am commanding you to sit down,” you forcefully state as you pull at him. Your force was no match to the half- giant, you knew that but Hagrid obliged anyways. “Now you sit, and I’m going to make you a cuppa tea.” You got to work on the tea, and at first it was a bit hard, Hagrid’s pots and pans were made for him, it was quite heavy for a normal human to pick up. But soon you had a nice cup of tea poured out for him, and as he was enjoying that you whisked your wand and cleaned around his hut.

“Ya know I coudda done ‘hat,” Hagrid protested.

“Ah, you see Hagrid that’s the beauty of having people care for you,” you sass “they do things for you, even though you are very well capable of doing them yourself, because they like you.”

Hagrid smiled and looked at you for a minute. “You’r so much like your mother.”

His eyes and yours widened at this statement. “I shouldn’t said ‘hat. I should not have said ‘hat,” he fussed.

“It’s okay Hagrid,” you reassured him. “I know about my parents.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I found out that day at Hogsmeade. And just so you know, no matter what you believe, my father did not betray the Potters. He could never,” you tearfully state and before Hagrid could say anything you ran out of his hut.

“ (Y/N/N), wait,” you heard a voice call from behind you. Though the owner of that voice hasn’t spoken to you in months, it was still one that you would recognize anywhere. Hearing his voice only made your steps increase in speed, you were upset and crying, you were vulnerable, and this was not a form you wanted him to see you in. “(Y/N/N) please,” you heard the desperation in his voice as he was closing in on you. You felt silly, running away from him like this, when you spent weeks and months hoping this would happen.

“Please,” Harry stated as his hand grabbed hold of your wrist and brought you to his chest. He held you there for a minute, tears coming from his eyes, and yours. The scent of vanilla and pine cones filled your senses, once again filling you with the calmness you desperately needed. But the calmness left you as the events of the past months flooded your vision. You ripped yourself out of his grasp. Tears of anger and hurt flowed freely.

“What do you want Harry? What do you want now? You think that an apology is going to make everything better? You cut me out of your life, isolated me and made me feel like I was nothing to you. You were hurt, I get that, Merlin’s beard do I get that. I know you better than I know myself, and for a second I let myself think that you knew me better than anyone else. But that’s not true, I hurt for months, for months, I was crying out in excruciating pain and you did nothing. In fact, you did a little more than nothing, you added to the pain. I’m not blaming you for my decision to end my life, that was a spur of the moment, dumb decision that I made. But Harry, hearing you say that I would kill you, sent me over the edge. You know that I would gladly take the killing curse for you, jump in front of anything harming you, but then you still said those words. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to feel?”

You fell to the ground as your monologue left you exhausted, and you sobbed into your hands. Harry, who was dumbfounded at your outburst, fell next to you. He cautiously held you, thinking that maybe you’d not want him to touch you. But when you didn’t move away, he held onto you tighter as he sobbed alongside you. After what seemed to be eons, he cupped your face with his hands and made you face him. “I’m so so sorry. I was hurt and instead of facing my sadness and reality I decided to punish you for something you had no control over. I am so sorry. I never meant any of the words I said and now more than ever I feel like an idiot. I can’t even imagine what would have happened if Lupin hadn’t been there that night. And to think it was from what I said, from the way I’ve been treating you. You tried so hard to talk to me, to reach out. You’ve always been there for me and the one time you needed me I just left you, added to your pain. I’m sorry (Y/N/N) and I know that my words can never make up for how I made you feel. If you want to never speak to me again or hit me or jinx me I understand.”

You sobbed into his chest. You both knew that Harry Potter could do the worst things imaginable and still have the place in your heart reserved for him intact. His apology is all you needed. It was all you were craving, his attention, his touch, his support, and reassurance. It’s all you needed to feel like yourself again.

“If you ever hurt me again Harry Potter, I will jinx you into another dimension,” you sniffle out.

“Never again,” he promised in tears. He brought your face closer to his and without waiting brought your lips to connect with his. You imagined your first kiss to be firework filled, but it was a different feeling. You were filled with warmth but also safety. You felt safe even though you were standing by the forbidden forest in the middle of the night. With Harry’s arms wrapped around you and his lips on yours, you felt the safest you’ve ever felt in your life.

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#Harry Potter #harry potter series #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter marauders #harry potter x reader #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #sirius black x daughter!reader #remus lupin x daughter!reader #golden trio era #golden trio fanfiction #Marauders #marauders fanfiction

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powerovernothing · 4 years

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(My dear friends and followers, there are two things I truly cannot stress enough about my newest story. One, this is an actual beast of a tale, and most likely is the *longest* piece that I have done based on Korbin’s world. It stands at over 25K words, which is the reason it has been given ‘epic’ status, so if you plan to read it – please do so at your own leisure. Secondly, whilst I am always appreciative of every single like I receive, if you can simply take the time to reblog this piece, that would truly mean the world to me! Thank you so much, my darlings, and without further ado – let’s begin~!)

Deafening cries of overly joyous spectators echo wildly throughout the wooden stands of the Imperial City's Arena as Korbin makes his way up from the staircase leading out of the Bloodworks hidden below and back into the lush green gardens, and protective high walls that decorated the remainder of one of the smaller districts found within the capital of Cyrodiil.

Another grueling battle fought, another hard earned victory in the palm of his hands, another sizable amount of gold placed within his pack, and for a moment the almost overwhelming thought of traversing the wilds under the cover of darkness – in the vein hope of not being seen by Daedra, Cultists, and Sithis only knew whatever other form of cruel creature in the process – to safely make their way to the city of Chorrol did not seem quite as impossible as it once had when he and his chosen siblings first set upon such a daunting journey.

While it was certainly true it was never meant to be the easiest task in all of Nirn itself, to which it had surely became steadily more dangerous in the aftermath of Kvatch's burning, and the numerous – nearly endless – amount of Oblivion Gates that had now been opened upon the unsuspecting province, it was still something that he was more than determined to accomplish more thoroughly than he did the first time around.

Perhaps it was a case of paranoia, perhaps it was because of the mocking whispers that he heard deep within his mind when his companions walked just a little further ahead, or perhaps it was simply just because he did not wish to make the same mistake twice.

Whatever the truth may have been, he knew that to successfully keep Martin safe from any and all harm that may befall him upon the road as they slowly found their way towards Weynon Priory, granting him the protection of Jauffre, as well as his trained Bladesmen awaiting their future arrival in Cloud Ruler Temple... it would have been considerably more difficult without a fair amount of coin nesting deep within their collective pockets.

Thankfully, however, Korbin already knew the perfect answer to every concern over the rather uncomfortable scenario that they had found themselves caught within. All it would require would be a single trip to the Imperial City. He knew that it would be out of the way, he knew that he would be risking Martin's life by choosing to bring him to the one city that those who clamored for his head would be searching for him in, and yet... he knew that it was the only option that they actually had at the moment.

Once it was agreed upon – and even despite numerous arguments from Lachance over the foolish decision, and ceaseless worrying from Martin regarding Korbin’s own life – he knew that everything would ultimately work out for the best.

He would join up with the combatants in the Arena, just as he had done before in another time, take part in the bloodshed to somehow satisfy the all too eager, and soon overly pleased crowds, and before long they would have enough to chart a wagon to make – at the very least, he hoped – the remainder of the journey somewhat more bearable.

The plan was perfect, flawless, and so much more enjoyable because his own chosen siblings were actually in the stands as well. Watching him flaunt his skills in the art of Assassination, and actively engaging in the screams of delight, the howls of surprise, and the proud, boastful clapping that came at the end of every match.

The latter was embarrassing, to be sure, but he used it as a source of strength. Round after round, opponent after opponent, and after no more than a single week had passed by, he was able to accomplish everything that they needed and more. But there was one thing that still remained. One thing that still ate away at him, even as he moved past the wooden bars, and waved a tired greeting towards Hundolin over his shoulder.

It was how vastly different the confrontation between two Champions of the Arena had wound up being in the end as he stood against the Grey Prince, and rushed forward to strip away the title of Grand Champion from his shoulders, and place it upon his own.

He still remembered the half Orc, half Vampire from memories that still lingered from long ago, from an entire lifetime ago, and he continued to look upon that time – upon that person that he once was – with an incredible amount of shame in regards to his actions then.

'Please, just kill me,' suddenly flashes in Korbin's mind as he feels the cooling breeze of midday caress over his skin, and he shuts his eyes against the rush of fresh pain that the words bring him. 'Can't you see this is what I want? I can't live like this, knowing I'm something filthy –' He shakes his head, and rounds the corner that would lead him back to the gate leading out of the district to await his brothers return.

'It was better this way. It was far better this way than how it was before,' he tells himself in a means of lessening the guilt of knowing what he had done, and how he had essentially stolen away the spark of a fighter that craved the joy, and thrill of battle.

The Grey Prince was better off not knowing the truth of his birthright. Better off not simply standing in the middle of the Arena in tears, wishing for an end, because he could not bear to even think of himself as anything other than foul. Thus, if what he craved was nothing more than a proper fight for the glory of Shinji himself, then he surely received it in the end.

There, in the Arena, it was not simply one pitiful man standing against the other. It was not someone who had meant well, and yet did so wrong, and chose to use it to his own benefit so that he could carry some manner of pride for a single day in the hopes it would somehow close the hole that he had in his life. It was one warrior against another, and in doing so, or rather not doing so, he had effectively changed one means of shame, and assisted his journey with his brothers at the very same time.

Yes, this was indeed the better outcome, and now that this small detour was out of the way, he could shift his focus back onto helping Martin arrive in Chorrol safely, and there wouldn't be any further interruptions to—

"Oh, wow! Oh, by Azura's own wonderful Dawn and Dusk, wow! It's you! It's... it's actually you!" Comes a sudden, high pitched voice, and Korbin blinks in confusion for several moments as he turns to locate the supposed source. "I've seen you fight every single match that took place in that Arena, but the one that just finished... was really, really amazing!"

He turns from one side, to another, and even upward, and seemingly finds nothing. That is, until, he feels a gentle tug at his arm, and he comes to realize that the source is much lower than he would have first assumed. He then cranes his head, eyes still ablaze with bewilderment, and is met with the sight of a small boy with an incredible mop of yellow hair, and piercing green eyes staring up at him with a large smile.

"I know that... I know that I came out of nowhere, but I couldn't wait to catch a glimpse of you coming out of the main gate when the battle was over!" The boy says; shifting from one foot to another, and practically bouncing with excitement. "And I know that you're probably really busy, being an amazing Hero and all, but... but can you... can you sign my black arrow, Mr. Grand Champion, sir?"

Korbin tilts his head at the young Bosmer before him – who could not have been even a few years into his teenhood – and then slowly nods.

"Uh, well... yeah, of course I will, kid, " He tells him, and then reaches for the arrow that is extended to him in trembling hands. "I mean, you seem so excited about all of this, that I would feel terrible if I just went and stepped on all of your adorable dreams! So, just give me a moment, and I'll be certain to make this special arrow of yours worthy of an unending shower of pride and appreciation from the Grand Champion, and Black Arrow himself!"

"Oh, yes! Yes! That would be truly wondrous, thank you! Thank you so much! Azura has truly blessed me this day by being able to have this incredible chance!" The boy cries out, twirling around on his feet in a full circle, and pumping his fists in the air. "My brother is going to be really, really jealous when I show him this! Especially after everything he said about how I shouldn't have journeyed out to see the events in the first place, and that they were too brutal for someone of my age, but, but –"

He clasps his hands together, and his eyes sparkle with an innocence that he knows he has seen too many times in the mirror himself. "The way that you fought! The way that you fell the Grey Prince! It was amazing! And inspiring! You didn't flinch even once as he came out you! You're a truly a true Knight among those around us, sir! Truly!"

Korbin barks a warm laugh at the boy's glee, and then hands the arrow back to him when he finishes branding it with a special mark in place of a signature.

"A true Knight, you say. Well, if that is indeed the case..." His words trail as he shifts his gaze to each side once again. "Is this brother of yours nearby, perhaps? Because I would very much love to see the look of utter shock on his face as you return to him with the newly decreed Grand Champion of the Arena at your side, if everything you said is indeed true."

"Oh no, he's not nearby, sir. He's rather far away, actually."

Korbin raises an eyebrow to his words. "...Far away?"

"Oh, yes, sir! He currently lives in Bravil with the rest of his very Priestly friends! And myself, of course!"

"W-Wait... whoa, wait a moment, hold on now—" Korbin staggers backwards in genuine surprise; waving his hands in the air in a rather animated fashion as he tries to desperately grasp onto what exactly he is being told. "Bravil? You mean the... city of Bravil? The one that is, you know, down in the south? And quite a long way away from where we are both currently standing together? That Bravil, you mean?"

The boy nods several times in a row. "Yes, yes! The very same!"

"And you... the little one who is in front of me right now, came to the Imperial City?" Korbin asks, on the verge of panicking over the sake of an unknown child's wellbeing. "By yourself? Just to... just to what? Come and see me fight in the Arena?"

"I did, sir! And rather happily at that!" The boy beams with a wide smile, oblivious, or perhaps not at all caring how his innocent words sounds to other's ill prepared ears. "But, enough about that! Back to more important matters! After all, do you not realize how utterly jealous my brother will be when I not only present this token to him, but when he finds out that I got a chance to speak with the Grand Champion of the Arena himself as well?! He will go through the roof and wish for several months – even possibly years – that he had gone with me when I first asked!"

"Right, that's going to be absolutely grand, I'm sure," Korbin mutters halfheartedly as he holds his head with one hand, and gestures with the other. "But, before you do that, let me just try to make sense of everything I've learned first. Because, from what you're telling me... you are going to... do what, exactly, when we part ways here? Leave the safety of the city, willingly venture out into the wilderness before you, and then... journey back towards Bravil, and show your brother your arrow shaped token to make him red with rage? And all completely by yourself?"

The boy suddenly stomps his foot, all the while holding the arrow close to his chest almost protectively. "Why of course I am!" He shouts; puffing out his red tinted cheeks in response. "I am not a child, sir! I came here on my own, so it is only fair that I will leave here on my own as well. I'll be just fine, and perfectly safe! So, there's truly nothing to worry about!"

Korbin pauses at the brief show of anger from the boy; breathing in only once before leaning forward to place both hands on his little fan's shoulders, and then chuckles.

"Ah, yeah, no," He says with an unsettled grin. "That is absolutely not going to happen if I have anything to say about it."

Hardly mere moments later, far too quickly before the boy can even begin to question what the Grand Champion means by his strange words, why he looks so seemingly nervous – to which only confuses him more so, because Knights and Champions can be nervous? Even after such amazing battles? How was that even possible! – and how, once again, there was absolutely nothing to worry about, as he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and didn't he hear him the first time around... two other men come out from the opposite door of the Arena connected to the staircases that led to the seats above.

Seemingly conversing with one another – or rather arguing from the young boy's perspective – over the Grand Champion's amazing show of skill. And how, from the darker skinned, and lightly dressed man's point of view that the other, darkly dressed, more brooding man has surely trained the Grand Champion far too well, and there should have been at least a half dozen different ways, if not more, that he should have downed the Grey Prince without such brutality, all the while the hooded man simply waves a hand to the other's words.

Muttering something about his needless judgement, and how he felt nothing but complete and utter pride for his Silencer.

He wrinkles his nose. What was a Silencer? Was it a title that the Grand Champion had before he was the Grand Champion, and the Black Arrow? Was it something special that this man called him? Did that mean that this man was his trainer, but then what of the other man? Why was he so upset about how he felled the Grey Prince? In his own green eyes, he thought it was remarkable, as did the other man, so why were they arguing?

Once more, before he has a chance to ask, the Grand Champion takes his hand into his own, and walks forward to meet these men with him directly at his side.

"Gentlemen!" Korbin cries out with a large smile in the hopes of gaining his siblings attention, quite unaware of how his small fan is feeling over what is happening, and so quickly. "How did the two of you enjoy the show?"

"I must admit that it was quite the show, little brother," Martin regards Korbin warmly, and then reaches to rub a hand over his shoulder with a wry chuckle as he continues. "Expect for the... rather unneeded amount of bloodshed that took place within the Arena itself, I can say for certain that it made my evening seeing you go well above and beyond throughout all of these events with your impressive skill! And then knowing that it was all merely for the sake of making our journey easier... well, I feel a sense of sheer delight for what you have done, and just as I was discussing with Lachance here—"

"—What he is attempting to tell you in his own longwinded way, my dear Silencer, is that you were positively remarkable upon the battleground!" Lucien quickly interjects; an almost uncharacteristic twinkle shining brightly in his eyes. "You truly have no idea the amount of personal pride that I feel upon seeing you utilize the very same skill set that I have—"

"—Yes, yes, and that is all truly fantastic to know that you both feel that way about my slaughter and life taking in front of a lively audience!" Korbin waves a hand in front of their faces, and cuts Lucien off before he can complete his rather candid words. "However, compliments and pride aside, there is something far more important that I wish to discuss at the moment!"

He moves aside, and then gestures with both hands to the wide-eyed boy that stood hiding behind his leg as he spoke to both men.

"You see here, this is..." Korbin then pauses as realization dawns on him. Leaning down, and with a slight air of embarrassment, Korbin whispers to the boy with a half grin. "Ah, yes... well, you will have to forgive me for being so careless – and rest assured that your Champion hardly ever acts in such a way – but I do not believe that I ever caught your name?"

"Oh! Not to worry! Not to worry at all!" The boy says with a giggle all his own. "It's Erinil, Mr. Grand Champion! Or rather, I'm Erinil!"

"Ah, yes, Erinil, that's it!" Korbin raises back up with a much more pleased laugh. "So now that pleasantries are properly dealt with, and out of the way, you should know that Erinil here has been incredibly brave. More so than any others that have come to the Imperial City! Because he has ventured from the city of Bravil itself to simply come and witness the glory of my Arena battles in person!"

"Yes, yes, that's right! That’s so very right!" Erinil nods excitedly in agreement; matching Korbin's spirit almost effortlessly. "Every single one!"

“Hold a moment now,” Lucien raises a hand, and then makes a face as he looks down at the boy by Korbin's side. "...Whom, exactly, is this?"

Korbin places his own hand over his chest. "Why, my dear brother, I am positively ashamed of you!" He states dramatically. "Do you not see my biggest fan standing before us in this moment? Looking up at the three of us with glee, joy, and absolute happiness that only someone filled with the sweetest innocence could muster?"

"Yes, perhaps I do," Lucien replies, as he runs a thoughtful hand over his chin; hiding his playful grin just behind his fingers. "But I am simply wondering how much you managed to bribe the child to become such a ridiculous thing in the first place."

Korbin gawks; his mouth now hung open as he points an accusatory finger. "Lucien Lachance, how dare you!"

While both Assassins begin to briefly argue among themselves over the matters of how many admirers the newly christened Grand Champion now has, and surely will have, from his outstanding show of skill within the Arena, and how all of Lucien's playful – yet deeply hurtful words – were blatant lies, and it was not merely the two of them, and the young boy that made up his circle of adoring fans. For there were many others, a great many others, and the spectators that partook in the event weren’t just there for a show of gratuitous bloodshed and nothing more, and how dare the eldest of the two of them run his mouth in an attempt to throw him from the glorious cloud of high spirits that he was happily floating upon!

It is Martin that simply breathes in a deep sigh; mixed with some manner of both genuine exasperation, and amusement at the same time, and allows the rather chaotic – and growing far more fervent as the seconds pass by – sight to grant to him a temporary respite, and steal away a quiet moment with this young boy for himself.

Lowering down to a gentle kneel, so that both he and Erinil were on common ground, he smiles politely. "Is it true what Korbin said to us, Erinil?" He asks him in a light tone. "That you are indeed here alone with no such guardian to watch over you?"

"Yes, but that's okay," The boy nods in emphasis to his words, despite the faintest twinge of sadness lingering in his words that does not go entirely unseen. "I really, really wanted to come here and see the battles for myself, and the Grand Champion didn't disappoint at all! I mean, I knew that he wouldn’t, of course, as I've always believed in him from the moment he stepped foot in the Arena. But actually seeing firsthand how he fought so bravely against every single opponent? And how didn’t even look scared, not even once, and not even against the Grey Prince himself?!"

Erinil pauses, and then clutches his precious arrow to his chest. "It's something to be in awe over, sir. Because he is such a remarkable hero."

"Oh yes, little one, I most certainly agree with you there." Martin tells him as his voice softens. With another sigh, albeit far more tender than the one that had come before, he slowly looks from Erinil’s face for a moment, and over to where Korbin and Lucien continue to exchange their heated words at each other.

He watches them as they mimic each other's theatrical, over the top movements, and dramatic words, and why this was so obviously the truth, and the other was a cruel lie, and why exactly he was clearly the right one, and the other was wrong.

Martin doesn't make sense out of any of it, not now, and not any times that his companions had thought to act this way towards one another. But this time, and with Erinil's words in mind, his gaze lingers on Korbin, and his once kind smile slowly turns far more genuine with a deep warmth etched into every word that he goes on to speak.

"He is indeed quite the wonderful hero," He whispers, much more to himself than for the child's pointed ears. "And one that you, much like my own self, owe so very much to in ways of which we could never possibly explain."

"For the love of – now look what you’ve went and done to me, Lachance!" Korbin suddenly groans; bringing Martin back to the moment as he pulls away from Lucien and holds his face in his hands. "All of your little insults that you think are oh-so clever, and all your little jabs, and jokes have not only made me get needlessly angry, and want to tackle you to the ground, but it made me lose my entire point that I was about to get to!"

"Well, if that is surely the case, then I would consider that quite the accomplishment," Lucien says with an arrogant grin.

"And this is the moment when I turn my back, and completely ignore anything that you have to say until I'm ready to deal with you once again! Which will most certainly not be any time soon!" Korbin shouts with a pointed finger over his shoulder as he does just that, and then gestures to Erinil still lingering beside Martin.

"In any case, the point that I was just about to make, before someone – whom I shall not be naming, thank you very much – chose to be an arse and interrupt me so rudely"—he walks forward, paying no heed to Lucien as he laughs at his expense, and places a hand upon Erinil's shoulder—"Is that no matter how this boy came into my – our – lives, no matter how many miles he has traveled here to the Imperial City, and no matter what he may have thought of his skill in daring the dangers of the roads and wilderness… the most important fact is that he has singlehandedly given us an incredibly important mission to uphold!"

Erinil blinks and tilts his head. "...Wait, I did?"

"Yes! You certainly have!" Korbin explains with a wide grin spreading from ear to ear. "And because of that, myself, and my two brothers here, are going to be the ones who personally escort you back to the city of Bravil, and into your loving brother's arms once more!"

Erinil's eyes go wide to the Grand Champion's amazing words, and shine with an awe that only a child would have... at the same exact moment that Lucien's laughter suddenly ceases, and he turns to Korbin with a deep glare of irritation in his own dark gaze.

"...You cannot be serious," He grumbles in almost deadpan tone. "You truly cannot be serious."

"Ah, ah, ah! Now, you know very well that I am indeed serious, Lucien!" Korbin exclaims as he spins on his heel. "After all, why would I ever think to jest over something as important as bringing this little one back to his family safe and sound?" He places his hands over his hips with a disapproving shake of his head. "Frankly, I'm quite offended, and rather ashamed that you would even think such a thing about me!"

"We are not about to escort this child all the way to Bravil!"

Upon hearing the sound of Lucien's screams, and knowing that he now had the perfect opportunity to fluster his shadowy friend all the more, Martin rises back to his full height, and matches Korbin's mirthful expression with one of his own.

"And why ever not, Lachance?" He asks him simply. "Would you rather have this dear boy go off by himself?"

"Yes!" Lucien shouts; gesturing to Erinil with his palms held out. "If he so arrived here on his own, then that alone proves he is more than capable of taking care of himself upon the journey back."

Erinil lets out a surprised gasp; bouncing up and down on his feet – to the point of making himself dizzy with the quick motions – and points at Lucien with a squeal.

"See? See? Did you hear what he just said?!" He cries, hoping that his words reach both the Grand Champion, and his lightly dressed sibling's ears somehow. "He agrees with me! He knows that I can handle myself on my own! This is just as I was saying, sir! And now he is the one who actually believes in me, so maybe you should listen to him?"

However, his hope is dashed to teeny, tiny little ribbons – just as the Grand Champion had done to his opponents in the Arena – as Korbin simply pats the top of his biggest fan's head and hushes him.

"Shhh Eri," He whispers, referring to him by a sudden nickname that makes the boy’s cheeks turn slightly red. "I know that you're naturally excited, and all, but the adults are talking right now, okay? Just wait a touch, and then you can have your turn again."

He then stares at Lucien with narrow eyes, and a harsh frown. "Truly now, Lucien... if you simply take a moment to realize that it is not all about you, and your word is not nearly the law that you believe it to be outside of the Sanctuary, then you would realize that Martin is exactly right in what he says!" He goes on to explain, refusing to back down even slightly on such a serious subject. "If we allow little Erinil to leave, to go off on his own into the wild, Sithis and Akatosh, and even Azura herself only knows what will happen out there! All manner of thing could come upon him! Wolves, mountain lions, bandits! All three at once! And then his blood would be on your hands until the end of time itself!"

"But, but, but!" Erinil attempts to interject. "None of that is going to happen, because I'm not going to get caught! I'm really fast, and very good at hiding!"

Martin closes the distance between himself and Lucien as he ignores Erinil's words just as easily as Korbin had.

"Lachance, I have only known you for a short time now, but from what you have been willing to share with me... well, I am quite frankly appalled by your behavior!"

"...I beg your pardon, Septim?" Lucien lets out a frustrated sigh; running a hand over his head where a piercing pain was now coursing over his temples.

"What sort of father do you claim yourself to be, if you will stand aside and do nothing while a young, innocent, helpless child rushes off into the dangers of the outside world without any sort of guardian or protector?!"

At the all too personal jab, Lucien fights back the growing urge to pull out his concealed weapon, toss it towards both Martin and Korbin's clothing, and pin them directly to the wooden wall behind him. But as he contemplates such a grand thought of revenge, he then remembers that he is not only in the company of a child, but he is also within the eyesight of numerous witnesses and a collection of various guardsmen at the ready for any sudden threat of violence, or hint of suspension.

Knowing that he is essentially trapped, and looking from the boy's widened eyes, and towards his siblings who continue to smile at him in such an dreadfully irritating way, he simply reaches up and pulls at the corners of his darkened hood in sheer frustration at the horrific scenario brought upon by some stroke of terrible luck, or curse by some deity with a demented sense of humor, or both at the exact same time.

A groan escapes his lips, and he bites his tongue to keep from utilizing every possible swear that he knows to perfectly explain what he is feeling.

In the end, he only continues to shout. "By the Dread Father, you are both being absolutely unbearable! And why I haven't simply felled you by my own hand is truly beyond me!"

"Is that a means of saying you agree, and are going to come with us?" Korbin asks with a boyish giggle.

Lucien releases his white knuckled grip on his hood and huffs a weary breath. "Do I truly have any sort of say in the matter at this point in time, Korbin?" He questions, firmly at first, and then with a dismissive wave of his hand. "For I know, all too well, that daring to disagree with either of you only serves to stoke the flames of your childish arguments, and if assisting to help this child find his way back to his beloved city walls makes my suffering come to a delightful end, and finally grants me blessed silence, then yes!"

He holds out his hands and begins to wave them in front of his chest. "Yes! I will come with you! Are the three of you thoroughly satisfied with what you're about to have me endure, or shall I find another means of heinous torment for you to bestow upon me!?"

Korbin and Martin turn to look at one another, sharing a rather devious, pleased glance at what they were able to accomplish together – all the while Erinil simply looks on with confusion – and Korbin chuckles with a smug air that Lucien positively despises.

"Oh no, I do believe that will suffice for now, my dearest brother." He says in an almost sing-song like tone of voice, and then turns to Erinil and smiles more genuinely at the boy. "And so, it's finally settled then! The four of us shall be heading out on an adventure together, and it shall truly be glorious!"

*~*~*

"My dear Silencer, will you please remind me of how truly glorious you believe that our quaint little adventure with the Bosmer child will end up being?" Lucien says with deep frustration marred in every feature, as he makes his way through the city gates of Cheydinhal; his hands intertwined within his robe sleeves, as locks of hair begin to fall loose from his ponytail. "Because I do believe that your definition of the term, and what it was that we just underwent over the course of many days are two wildly different things entirely."

"Oh, for the love of Sithis, do not even start with me, Lachance," Korbin groans as he pulls the gate close, and comes to stand at Lucien's side, as both Martin and Erinil trail hand in hand in their shadows. "How was I meant to know that every bloody Priest of Mara would be off on some bizarre Pilgrimage to locate every damn Wayshrine in every secluded corner of Cyrodiil itself? Or that by the time we arrived, Eri's brother would happily be skipping off to lands unknown along with them and wouldn't have the common decency to wait for his sibling to return first?!"

"I could have told you!" Erinil suddenly cries out from over their shoulder. But when both Korbin and Lucien turn their gazes and look towards the boy with slight confusion resting within golden eyes, and a much deeper irritation shifting into barely contained rage in darkened browns, he quickly hides himself behind Martin's back. "I-I... I mean, I could have if you had only asked me, Mr. Grand Champion, sir! But, but you... but you didn't! You only asked about where my brother lived, and about the city of Bravil, so I thought... it wasn't very important at the time."

The young boy shuffles on his feet and clutches his hands into the crook of Martin's robing. "Oh dear, oh dear. Oh dear, Azura. I did something very wrong, didn't I?" He asks somewhat pitifully after all three men come to a halt in the middle of the cobblestone road. "I'm... I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to... to do something wrong, I just thought that it was something we could.... we could discuss later, rather than... oh, forgive me, sirs! I didn't mean to make any of you upset with me!"

"It's quite all right, little one," Martin instantly begins to reassure as he hears Erinil's emotional, and rather unneeded apologies. He turns on his heel and kneels in front of the boy. "After all, you are indeed correct with your assumptions on the matter. Neither Korbin, nor Lucien, actually asked you for the details of what your sibling would be doing by the time we arrived, so it is not as though it is your fault that things went... somewhat differently than we would have first thought."

He chuckles and smiles more kindly as he goes on. "Besides, we still had quite the fun adventure, didn't we? Exploring different parts of the Nibenay Basin together, and introducing you to different landmarks that you have never seen before, and telling you of their history?" He his head to look towards Korbin. "Do you not think that we had a wonderful time, little brother?"

Korbin blinks at Martin's words; his negative emotions that had been brought to the surface because of Lucien's own frustrations slowly beginning to fall from his shoulders.

"Yes, absolutely, Martin!" He says with a large, boyish grin. "And I'm quite certain that it was even more enjoyable for Eri, as he most likely has never seen this side of Cyrodiil from within a wagon before!"

"I haven't, Mr. Grand Champion, sir! Not before now, at least!"

Korbin laughs. "Well then, do you see?" He tells Erinil with a clap of his hands. "Just like before, it's all wound up having worked out for the better in the end!"

"I would prefer it if you both would speak for your own selves, rather than lumping me into this nonsense," Lucien replies from where he remains in the middle of the road; his voice still ripe with the same familiar ire that he had when this entire impromptu adventure first began. "For if you did not realize upon our deeds – or the lack thereof – in Bravil, we are in no better shape than when we set off. In fact, it is considerably worse, as we are now hopelessly stuck with the boy."

Martin gasps in surprise to Lucien's words, and pulls Erinil close. "Lachance!"

"...What?" Lucien merely shrugs his shoulders. "There is no need for such a reaction, as I am only doing my part to bring the truth of the matter, in which we are still actively trapped in I shall have you know, to your rather naive ears."

"Yes, perhaps you are, and perhaps we are all so very thankful for that as well!" Korbin shouts as he reaches to wrap a sudden arm around Lucien and pulls him close; his voice quietening down to a softer whisper, and one of which he dearly hopes Erinil is unable to hear. "But truly, must you refer to it in that sort of way? If you can't tell, we are actually trying to make the kid feel better about what happened back there, and not somehow ten times worse! And yes, I get it... you're still upset with all of us because we had to travel so far, leave empty-handed, and then travel towards Cheydinhal as a last resort. It's not as though I don't understand how you're feeling, but..."

He sighs and looks to where Martin is embracing the young boy in his arms and attempting to make him smile. "We can't just abandon him somewhere all alone. He doesn't have anyone expect for us right now and leaving him in Bravil without any resources is just too cruel of a punishment."

"Then what do you purpose we do?" Lucien prompts in the same whispered tone; his anger subsiding only slightly as he latches onto the truth in his brother's words.

Korbin pats Lucien's shoulder. "Right, I purpose..." His words trail off once again, and he stares out into the distance of the other side of the city. "That we simply make our way over to the Abandoned House for now and see if any new ideas spring to mind while doing so."

"The Abandoned House?" Erinil repeats in curiously as he pulls out of Martin's arms and looks up at Korbin with a newfound sparkle in his eyes. "What is that, Mr. Grand Champion? Is it a very special place in the city where everyone goes to think up amazing ideas?"

"Well no, it's nothing like that," Korbin explains with an amused shake of his head. "I mean, that is what I am going to be using it as this time, but...that's not his intended purpose. But even despite that, it doesn't make it any less special. For it is a place that is very important to myself, my brothers, and the rest of my family..." Sharing a glance with Lucien – who simply shrugs his shoulders in response once again – he then smiles. "Would you like to see it for yourself, Eri?"

"Oh yes! Oh yes, I certainly would, sir!" Erinil bounces on his feet and claps his hands together. "I would truly love to see anything and everything here in Cheydinhal, as it's almost as amazing as the Imperial City itself, and far more beautiful than all of Bravil combined!"

Korbin turns around, and gestures over his shoulder as he proceeds down the pathway leading across the lake. "Then simply fall in line, my dear little fan!" He cries out happily. "Because not only shall I take you to see most of what Cheydinhal has to offer, but directly over this bridge, and a little to the right, is where the Abandoned House sits, along with so many other homes for you to behold just as well!"

Erinil lets out an excited squeal; rushing forward to stand at Korbin's side as he proudly marches on, all the while Martin lingers just behind Lucien with a tickled smile spread over his face.

"Tell me, my shadowy friend," He begins to say as he subconsciously mirrors Lucien's posture, and intertwines his fingers together in the sleeves of his own robing. "Is this at all how you would have imagined your last several days to have gone?"

Lucien scoffs under his breath. "At first I would have surely said no," He replies, and then turns to flash Martin a wry grin. "But considering that my prior few months has involved traveling to a ruined city overrun with Daedra forces, pulling a Priest out of a crumbled chapel, and promising to keep him safe so that he might take his place upon the Ruby Throne, and become Cyrodiil's new Emperor... well, I would have to say that nothing in my life quite surprises me any longer."

Martin laughs in genuine amusement. "What a fantastic response, my friend!" He says as he rounds the corner past the Great Chapel of Arkay. "And I do believe that I would certainly have a similar answer. After all, being saved from a very literal nightmare by the hands of two Assassins? Who would, in turn, grow to become some of my very dear friends, and even a chosen sibling? Why, if you had told me that more than two months ago, I would have laughed in your face."

"And yet, here you are," Lucien adds with a more relaxed half smile in place of his prior grin. "Alongside the very same Assassins, about to witness part of where myself, and Korbin conduct most of our rather grisly business... or rather, the exterior of it, at least. As I am certain you would have no desire to actually proceed through the Black Door itself."

"The Black Door?" Martin repeats just as curiously as Erinil when he heard of the Abandoned House. "Whatever is that, Lachance? Dare I even to ask?"

"Ah yes, well, there shall be ample time to explain such things to you at a later time, Septim," Lucien replies simply. "Let us first deal with the boy that is being left – unwillingly – in our care, and then we shall turn our focus upon dealing with you in the aftermath."

Before Martin has an opportunity to question Lucien properly over what he means by the phrase 'deal with', or the reasoning behind why, exactly, he feels his shoulders slump, and his stomach drop in regards to those very same words, his thoughts are quickly – and thankfully – interrupted by a rather familiar squealing. Refocusing his vision, and looking ahead, he sees Erinil practically dancing with excitement at Korbin's side, and tugging on the sleeve of his armor.

"Is this the house, Mr. Grand Champion, sir?" Erinil asks with a large smile; bouncing from one foot to the next. "Is this the house you spoke of?"

Korbin nods his head with a laugh at the sight of the boy’s excitement, as well as the strength in his endearing tugging. "Yes, the very same, Eri!" He turns and points a finger towards the side of the house. "You can tell that it is indeed the Abandoned House because of the very special well huddled just out of view! That is one of the key elements in telling this household apart from the rest of the Cheydinhal homes that dot this street!"

Erinil gasps with sheer delight. "It has a well!? Really!?" He lets go of Korbin's hand, and rushes over to Martin's in no more than half a second's time. "Mr. Martin sir! Did you hear what the Grand Champion just said? He says that what makes this house even more special than all the rest is because it has a well! And not just any well, but a very special well... hm, hm, as well!" He giggles at his own childish joke, and then pulls on Martin's arm. "Come on, come on! Let's go look at this special well and see if it has any secrets!"

Martin's softens considerably at the young Bosmer's almost infectious, and rather familiar innocence; the emotion he felt for Lucien's words, and how he was perceived in the Assassin's eyes compared to Korbin's suddenly fading into nothingness as he looks into the twinkling of Erinil's large green gaze.

"Very well, little one," He says with a kind smile. "Why don't you simply lead the way, and we shall explore the depths of this special well together?"

Erinil nods and pulls Martin along with him. Once the two of them are safely out of earshot, Lucien moves forward to take his place near where Korbin rests against the cobblestone wall surrounding the home. Leaning partially over the wall, he exhales a deep sigh, and then turns his head to address his Silencer through a careful whisper while the shadow of his hood conceals whatever emotion is lurking beneath his eyes or hidden within his words.

"Well, here we are, my Silencer," He begins to say, and then shifts his gaze upward. "The Abandoned House, just exactly as you wished. Thus, I do believe I am inclined to ask whether any new possibilities regarding the boy's fate has flooded into your mind by standing in its presence?"

Korbin shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "No, nothing," He admits disappointingly. "I'm still at a loss of what to actually do. I mean, I want to do what is right for Erinil, and what would be benefit him most, considering that his brother is off doing Sithis only knows what with his Priest pals, but when I try to think about what exactly that all means, and what he needs most of all... I'm just left floundering about in my own aggravation."

Lucien reaches to pat Korbin's shoulder, a light playfulness overtaking his tone. "Considering that it was you who first suggested that we transport the child to Bravil, all the while in the process of transporting the Septim Heir himself, I am half expecting your newfound ideas to be along the very same road of complete and utter madness."

"...And what does that mean, exactly?" Korbin asks; running the palm of his hand over the side of his temple as a wave of sharp pain temporarily overtakes his head whilst listening to Lucien's words, and focusing on the term ‘madness’. "Are you trying to tell me that you don't have any trust in my ideas?"

"Oh no, not at all, Silencer," Lucien reassures with a dismissive wave of his own hand. "I am only saying that if you do not stand there, and try to reason to why we should bring the boy into the ranks of the Dark Brotherhood as some unofficial member, as well as granting him full possession of the Abandoned House itself... well, I shall surely be walking away from this conversation of ours quite disappointed in your creativity."

Korbin allows a good-humored laugh to escape him, even despite his own frustrations for being unable to find the ideal answer that his dear little fan needed most, but before he is able to summon forth his personal flair for mischief to counteract Lucien's playful words, he is interrupted by a sudden laugh echoing directly over his shoulder. He turns his gaze for a moment and sees Erinil circling around the well of the Abandoned House several times in a row, a childish song flowing from his lips, as Martin watches on with rapt attention, and a gentle smile.

"Oh, the Grand Champion was very right, Mr. Martin sir!" Erinil says as he comes to a stop and rests his elbows over the top of the well. "This is indeed a very special well! It doesn't sound as normal wells do – even though there have not been many wells that I have seen in my lifetime – and it is much colder than I would have expected it to be! I wonder why it's different? I wonder why it's so special? I wonder if it does have secrets, and would be willing to share them with us?"

Martin chuckles warmly. "I'm not so sure, little one," He tells Erinil as he walks forward, and stands opposite to the boy. "Perhaps we should try dangling ourselves, shout our many questions into the depths, and see if it will grant us the answers that we seek."

"That sounds like a great idea, Mr. Martin!" Erinil leans forward and allows his curly blond hair to dip into the darkness for a single moment, but then quickly pulls his head back up with a giggle. "But wait, if I do that... I won't get my answer! I'll only hear my own echo from below! And then that won't give me the secrets that I want, it would just make me have a conversation with myself!"

Martin reaches out and touches his hand to the top of Erinil's head. "Ah, it seems as though you carry a great amount of wisdom in your small form, Erinil. No wonder Korbin instantly took to you so fervently."

"Oh dear, I'm not so sure about that, but..." A faint blush crosses over the boy's face, and then he pulls back to lay his elbows over the well once again. "But thank you so much for saying it anyway, sir! You are truly very kind! Although..." He pauses as his words trial; looking from the well, over to where Lucien and Korbin linger in the distance, and then back at Martin. "I am somewhat confused, I must admit..."

"Confused?" Martin repeats with a shake of his head. "Over what, little one?"

"You act as though you've never been here before, and that really, really confuses me," Erinil tells him; a frown over his lips. "Because I thought the Grand Champion said this is where Mr. Lachance and the rest of his family lives. And you're a part of that family too, right? Because you call them your brothers, and they call you that as well, so... don't you live here in Cheydinhal with them, sir?"

He scratches the side of his cheek with his fingers, and then giggles as he sways his cheeks from palm to palm "Or... has it just been a very long time since you came here, and you've just forgotten what your home looks like? Because if that's the case... then that's okay! Because I forget things a lot too, and you don't need to feel bad about it! I’m sure your brothers understand and will happily reintroduce you to your home again!"

It is then that Martin's eyes widen, and a much deeper blush overtake his cheeks. "O-Oh, no, no, Erinil, you don't—" He begins to stammer, attempting to grasp onto his better sense, and form some manner of coherent words in the process. "I'm... I'm afraid that you do not understand. Yes, they are..." However, he quickly catches himself before he can complete his sentence – before he can describe both Assassins as his chosen siblings – and when he looks over to where Lucien stands next to Korbin, a saddened sigh escapes him. "Yes, Korbin is my chosen sibling, but that does not necessarily mean–"

"—By the infinite shadows of the Void itself, I've finally figured it out!" Korbin cries out joyfully; slapping a fist into his open palm, and effectively causing his brothers, as well as the overly excited boy, to be shaken from their thoughts, and forcefully thrown back into the present. "It has taken me right up until this very moment in time, and I will surely have many personal words to mutter to my own mind when this is all said and done, but I do believe I have finally found the perfect solution to both ours, and Erinil's little problem!"

Lucien blinks in surprise. "Truly? It just came to you all at once?"

"Yes, of course it did! Suddenly, and out of nowhere, and right when I was just about to give up entirely! And honestly"—Korbin turns on his heel, and grins from ear to ear—"It's all thanks to you, Lachance! For I do not believe that I would have ever realized just how flawless this idea was if you did not suggest it yourself, dear brother!"

"...Forgive me, Silencer, but... what?" Lucien asks as his surprise turns to genuine confusion. "What is it I suggested that was seemingly the answer for you?"

Korbin places his hands over Lucien's shoulders. "Why, about allowing Erinil to join up with the Dark Brotherhood as an unofficial member and taking ownership of the Abandoned House, of course!" He pulls his brother into a half embrace as he gestures with his other hand. "I mean, just think about how perfect it will be! No one ever really uses the house to begin with, despite how well it's been kept throughout the many long years, and if Erinil moves in... then he could be safe! He could not only be far more secure than he ever was in Bravil, but he could be the first step in going forward with our plans to reshape the Brotherhood in our own image!"

Heat rises to Lucien's cheeks, and flows from him in a light red mist. "No, absolutely not—!"

"—And, and, and! I have an even better idea that would make it so that Erinil won't simply have to wander around and do nothing for hours on end!" Korbin loudly interrupts; practically squishing Lucien to his chest before he can reject the concept. "He could be our personal little guardsman! He gets the house, and thus is able to watch over the house, and the Black Door, and then he can also watch the well just as... well, just as well!" He chuckles in amusement. "He's protected, he has a job, he is kept safe, and we have a new member in everything but name! Everyone wins that way!"

Lucien jerks out of Korbin's hold with a furious glare in his eyes. "No, everyone does not win that way!" He shouts, fighting the urge to pull on the rim of his hood, or reach for the dagger at his belt the longer he is forced to stand by and listen to continual absurdity falling from Korbin’s lips. "For the love of Sithis, you cannot be seriously contemplating such a thing! Yes, it is true that I went along with your inane plans in the beginning, as you practically held me against the wall, rendering unable to escape, but this!? This, of all things, you could have suggested to help with our child shaped nightmare, you are choosing to go along with this!?"

"And why ever not, brother? After all, wasn’t it you"—Korbin reaches to poke Lucien's forehead in emphasis to his words—"who told me that you would be quite disappointed if I did not come up with an idea just as maddening as when I suggested we bring Erinil to Bravil?"

Lucien slaps Korbin's hand away; a deep grumble in his tone. "...I was joking. I thought that much was obvious to you."

Korbin pulls back, and grins. "Well, it's too bad that I took your words completely seriously then!" Spinning around, he begins to close the distance between himself and the well where Martin and the boy still stand together. "Erinil, my dear adoring fan!" He waves a hand overhead to quickly gain his attention. "I know that you are busy conducting a serious discussion with my brother over the many secrets that the well may hold, but I was curious if you would allow your Grand Champion to steal you away, so that we may speak of things just as exciting, and perhaps even more so!"

"Silencer, no!" Lucien screams, following quickly at his heels. "I'm begging you to reconsider this course of action!"

Erinil leaps from the well, and frantically nods his head. "Oh, of course, Mr. Grand Champion, sir!" He squeals, and then pauses to look at Martin with a nervous smile. "Well, that is... as long as Mr. Martin doesn't mind too much."

"Not at all, little one," Martin tells him simply – almost too pleased that the conversation over why, exactly, he did not live with Lucien and Korbin proper was now shifting away to other matters – as he runs a hand over his hair in passing. "I'm certain our conversation can wait until a later time."

"Korbin, did you not hear me at all!?" Lucien shouts once again, breathless from his every emotion, and sudden sprinting. "There has to be something – anything – that you could do that isn't... that is not this! Even the most foolish idea you have had in your lifetime is far better than what it is you are currently planning!"

Korbin turns his head, and instantly quiets Lucien's frantic words. "Hush now, brother! Be silent, won't you!?" He chides with a narrowed stare. "You'll end up ruining the surprise, and that's truly half the fun! Besides, I will have you know that this is somewhat of a private conversation. So, if you wish to be a part of it, you will simply have to wait your turn until you're summoned..."

He looks to where Martin is standing beside the west wall of the Abandoned House, and points. "Why don't you go and be a good little Assassin, and wait with Martin until I call you, all right?"

Lucien clutches his hands into fists, eagerly imagining that Korbin's neck is firmly within his grasp, but he quickly forces himself back into some means of composure when he witnesses the look in the young Bosmer's eyes once again. He breathes in, lowers his palms to his sides, and then nods with a strained smile.

"...Very well." He mutters before, unwillingly, doing just exactly as he is told – all the while feeling utterly ridiculous.

Martin raises an eyebrow as Lucien comes to stand beside him. "Do I... even want to know what all of that was about?"

Lucien deflates with a heavy, drawn out sigh. "No, not at all," He tells Martin. "But do understand that the very next time one of those damnable Gates of Oblivion chooses to open in close vicinity to us... I am leaping into its fiery depths to spare myself of the torment of having to suffer through any more of our brother’s ‘brilliant’ ideas..."

Erinil happily follows behind in Korbin's shadow when Lucien leaves them for a time. "What is it that you wanted to talk with me about, Mr. Grand Champion, sir?" He asks, his hands intertwined together over his chest.

"Why, a great many thing, actually!" Korbin replies; turning slightly as he reaches the side of the well and smiling down at the boy. "And all of them based around a collection of different questions I would so dearly enjoy if you could answer for me! Do you believe that you can do that, Eri?"

"Oh yes! Oh, yes, of course, my Grand Champion, sir!" Erinil hops upon the surface of the well so that he might address Korbin far more easily in light of their height difference. "Ask whatever you wish, and I will do my best to answer them however I possibly can!"

"Wonderful!" Korbin points a single finger. "Question number one: how are you enjoying being in the city of Cheydinhal? Obviously, it's quite different from the cities you are used to, and you even mentioned yourself that you have never actually been on this side of the province before. So, are you enjoying yourself, eager to see more, or are you longing for home after such a journey?"

"I really like it here, sir!" Erinil answers almost instantly as he kicks his feet against the well. "Yes, it is different from what I'm used to, and it's nothing like Bravil... but I think that's the reason I like it so much. Because knowing something like this is here, not too far away from the Imperial City, and is filled with beautiful surroundings, houses, and people living here like you, Mr. Lachance, and Mr. Martin..." He shakes his head with a content giggle. "Sure, I could always go home and wait for Ravenil to come back from his Priestly duties... but I really rather prefer where I am right now than back there."

Korbin smiles softly at the boy's words; feeling as though what he had chosen to do, what he was about to do, and what he was about to give to Erinil was surely the right choice in the end after all. Yes, perhaps Lucien was aghast to what he was doing, and perhaps the remainder of the Dark Family would be deeply confused to why this boy was now a presence in the – soon to not be so – Abandoned House, as well as the Sanctuary halls themselves, but it was all for the better.

He was giving him a chance to feel kinship, to have the love of those that would accept him – even if it surely would take quite some time to adjust, at first – and to not simply return to the emptiness of a home and await a brother that seemed to be far more interested in his holy duties than his own family.

This was good. This was right. And much like the Grey Prince, this was another thing that he would change for the better.

Korbin nods as his thoughts subside, and chuckles in response to the boy’s words. "Very good answer, Erinil," He tells him, and then points two fingers. "All right, question number two: what has been your thoughts on traveling with us so far? Obviously, you were more than eager to spend time with your dear Grand Champion, but what of my other siblings, Martin, and Lucien? What are your opinions on them, if you have any opinions at all? I've seen you speaking to Martin quite often, but... is it a positive thing?"

"But of course it's a positive thing, sir!" Once more, Erinil answers almost instantly once Korbin finishes forming his questions. "Being able to travel with you three has been a dream come true! Meeting you at the Arena, and having you mark my arrow was one thing, but getting to go on a journey with you, right beside your brothers? It was remarkable, amazing, even!" He then quiets down and looks over to where Martin and Lucien linger. When he does, and Martin senses eyes trained upon him, he looks up, and waves his hand in greeting – and then quickly nudges a still despairing Lucien with his elbow to do just the same.

The pleasant sight makes the boy's laughter return, and he shifts his gaze to glance down to where his feet dangle from the side of the well. "I like them," He says after a moment; his voice soft, and quiet. Almost as though it was something he wished only for Korbin to hear. "They're very nice... even if Mr. Lachance doesn't think himself to be that way. I know he likes to be dark, and really scary sometimes, but I can still see the niceness that he has. I see the way he acts around you both when he thinks no one is looking, and it's a happy thing. A good thing. It even reminds me of how my brother used to be when I was really really little."

Erinil looks up and smiles innocently. "He's a good big brother, and Mr. Martin is a good person. He doesn't mind when I'm silly, or when I ask lots of questions, and I like that. They're both very good people, and I know they make you happy because of the funny smile you wear around them. So, I really like them. Just as much as you do, sir."

It takes a moment before Korbin is able to find the strength needed to respond properly to what Erinil has said, and the truth that lingers in his gentle, kindhearted words. He turns his head to steal a glance at Lucien and Martin over his shoulder; chuckling to himself as warmth flows over him and settles in his chest. He breathes through his overwhelming emotions, and slowly turns his head back towards the boy, and that is when he is greeted with the sight of him offering his hand.

Korbin raises an eyebrow as he stares down at the small hand in front of him. "...What are you doing, Eri?"

"Everything I just told you, about your brothers, how I feel about them, and all the other nice words... it has to stay our secret, okay?" Erinil tells him with a strangely serious glint in his sparkling eyes. "You have to make me a promise that you won't tell them anything I said, because I know that Mr. Lachance would deny it if he heard, and Mr. Martin would blush a deep red as though he's a ripe tomato. So... it has to stay just between us, all right?" The boy waves his still extended hand up and down in emphasis to the importance in his words. "Please, please promise me that it will, Mr. Grand Champion, sir!"

Korbin laughs more genuinely, and then reaches out to shakes the boy's hand. "But of course, Erinil," He says, easily mimicking the same amount of seriousness in his tone. "Nothing that you said to me will reach their ears. I give you my word, and I swear to you that they will never know..." A playful smile then twitches in the corner of his lips. "Even despite how amusing it would be to see suddenly Lucien turn all bashful, and Martin bright red!"

"Sir, you just said that you would keep it a secret!"

"And I will; I will!" Korbin holds up his hands defensively. "I was only just teasing! That's all I was doing, I assure you!"

Erinil puffs out his cheeks and crosses his arms over his chest. "You and Mr. Martin joke the same..." He mutters, and then slowly his smile returns. "But I suppose that's because it runs in the family, right? All siblings kind of act like one another, even if they don't always want to admit they do! I mean, me and my brother share the same stammer sometimes, so it's nice to see that you and Martin share the same sense of humor!"

Korbin blinks in confusion. "Wait, Eri, I think you're a bit –"

"But anyway, what was the other question you had for me, sir!? I'm happy to keep answering them for you!"

"Oh, ah... right, right. We were getting slightly off track, weren’t we?" Korbin shakes his head, and then holds up three fingers. "My third question for you:"—he moves aside so that Erinil can see the house more clearly—"What are your thoughts regarding the Abandoned House? I know I spoke of it rather highly, and you were excited to see it up close, and the well that you're currently sitting on, but I am curious if your opinion has changed any in the aftermath. Is it as nice as the other houses in Cheydinhal? Does it remind you of your own home, making you want to remain here for an extended period, or do you simply wish to see it all in passing, and then continue with our adventure?"

"I like it, sir. I really do," Erinil replies. "It's very beautiful just like the other homes I have seen in the city, but..." A frown crosses over the boy's lips, and he kicks a single foot against the well. "It actually makes me rather sad the more that I think about it."

"Sad?" Korbin repeats curiously. Of all the answers he was expecting, they were surely not remotely close to this one. "Why exactly does it make you sad?"

"Well, isn't it obvious, sir? Because it's abandoned, of course!" Erinil answers in the very same seriousness as when he spoke of secrets and promises. "You said it yourself that it's called the Abandoned House, and to know this wonderous, beautiful looking home was abandoned by someone, and left all alone... it makes me really sad. Yes, it doesn't look the same as the other homes in the city, but does that really matter? Everyone is special in their own way, and everyone has their own traits that make them... them! So, to know someone could not accept this home's differences... well, it makes me sad, but also very angry!"

"Angry? I could understand sad, somewhat, at least, but why angry?"

"Because there isn't anything that I can do to help make the home feel better!" Erinil throws up his fists; turning emotional. "It's all alone, and I know that it wants someone to care for it, but everyone I have seen in the city just passes it by without even saying hello to it! And that makes me angry, because the home is right there, and no one is paying it any attention, or giving it any care! So, yes sir, I like the home... but I just wish I could do more for the poor thing!"

Korbin runs a hand over his beard; smiling knowingly. "So, you only wish that you could do something to help, hm?" He mutters quietly, almost to himself, and then suddenly clasps his hands. "Very well then! I have one final question for you, my little friend, and once you answer this one in the same special way you've answered all the others, I will grant to you quite the remarkable surprise!"

Erinil's eyes shine with an almost star like glow as they widen considerably. "A remarkable surprise?" He repeats, almost in awe of what he is hearing. "You mean... you mean just like my special token? Just like the black arrow you marked for me? That kind of special surprise, Mr. Grand Champion, sir?"

"Actually, Erinil, what I have in mind would be even better than that arrow!" Korbin replies with a joyful laugh. "It would not only be something you would cherish from here on out, but something that would also keep you safe, and show that you are now officially—" And then he stops, and quickly slaps a hand over his mouth. "Whoops! Dear me, what was I doing!? I just about spoiled the surprise far too early! But I suppose if you really want to know what this surprise of mine is, you will just have to answer my final question, all right?"

"Aww, but that's kind of cheating!" The boy whines, before slowly folding his hands into his lap, and finding whatever remains of his composure amid his greatly overpowering excitement. "But... if that is how I end up getting the surprise, then I will do it! I will certainly do it! And I will do it just for you, my Grand Champion!"

"Wonderful to hear!" Korbin grins widely. "And rest assured, that it is this final question that is the easiest to answer of them all. It's a simple yes, or a simple no, and regardless of how you choose to answer, I shall still grant to you the special surprise either way!" He holds up four fingers, all the while keeping his grin perfectly in place. "And here we go: would you, my dear little adoring fan, enjoy having a proper grown up job?"

Erinil instantly opens his mouth to speak, just as he had done for every question that had come before; but before he is able to form even a single sentence in response, a look of the utmost confusion overtakes him, and he remains upon the well looking much like a fish snatched violently out of water. His mouth opening, then shutting, then opening once again, and ultimately, after several moments of merely sitting there in stunned silence, he just groans – or rather whines – through the intense feeling of sheer bewilderment at the Grand Champion's question.

"W-Wait... wait, what?" He stammers; narrowing his eyes in deep thought, as he shakes his head, and struggles to make sense of what he is hearing. "What do you mean... a proper grown up job? What even is a proper grown up job, and why are you asking me whether I would want one or not? Does that mean I have to choose a job, or... actually, a better question! What would you even want someone like me doing for someone like you? If it is, in fact, that you truly want me to work for you... or... or..." Another drawn out whine of frustration escapes him. "I don't understand what you mean, sir! Please speak more plainly, because I am very, very confused right now about... about everything!"

Korbin chuckles lightly and touches his hand to Erinil's shoulder. "Eri, it really isn't that difficult..." He pauses as the boy continues to stare at him with near endless confusion, thinks back over his words, and then continues to laugh – but at his own expense. "All right, perhaps it was a bit out of nowhere, and I didn't quite phrase it properly... well, how about I just ask you directly, instead of forming it into a question like the others, hm?"

"All right, I like that a lot better, but... what do you want to ask me, sir?"

"I merely wanted to know whether or not you wanted to come to work for me, my brothers, and the rest of my family."

Erinil's mouth hangs open, once again, but in shock rather than confusion. "Wait, you were... you really meant what you said?" He asks in a breathless, disbelieving whisper. "It wasn't just another joke, or something to shake me up, so that you could laugh over my reaction afterwards? You... you really wanted to know whether I would come work for you?"

Korbin smiles genuinely. "Yes, of course, Erinil. After all, I did say the final question was the easiest one to answer," He explains by echoing his previous words. "A simple yes, or a simple no."

"But... but what would I even do? It isn't as though I can fight like you, Mr. Grand Champion, and there is no way that I'm as skilled with magic like Mr. Martin, or as clever with shadows, or sneaking like Mr. Lachance!" Erinil hangs his head slightly, kicking against the well once again. "I know I said that I'm very fast, and good at hiding when I need to be, but compared to you three, I would... I would be rather useless, I'm afraid..."

"And that is where you would be wrong in thinking so, my friend!" Korbin quickly adds; patting both of Erinil's shoulders in reassurance. "In fact, there no one else I would rather entrust with this one, very special task. Everyone else would surely fail, would surely make a fool out of themselves, where you – my beloved adoring fan – would be the best possible choice in all of Cyrodiil itself!"

Erinil looks back up with a weak smile of his own. "...You really think so?"

"Remember how we made our promise over keeping certain things secret, and I gave to you my word?" Korbin lightly pokes Erinil's nose. "The very same thing applies to now! So, what do you say? Would you like to have this very special, very grown up job, so that you might rub it in your older brother's face three times over when he returns from his Priestly Pilgrimage?"

"Yes! Yes, of course!" Erinil squeals with a pump of his fists. "But... I don't even know what the job is. You haven't really told me yet. Is it... is it dangerous? Like how dangerous it was when we were on the road from Bravil to here? The kind of danger that was very different from when I went to the Imperial City to see you fight? The kind that involves bandits, and beasts, and flaming gates I don't really understand? That kind of dangerous?"

"No, no, no!" Korbin quickly interjects; cutting off Erinil's train of thought before his overthinking somehow frightens him away. "It wouldn't involve anything of the sort, I assure you. In fact, all you would really be doing is guarding, watching, and protecting something that desperately needs you more than ever. Which is, of course, just as important as all those other things you mention, but far, far less scary."

Erinil narrows his eyes in thought once more. "Guarding, watching, and protecting something that needs me...?" He whispers under his breath, and then looks up at Korbin with a child's innocence. "It isn't you, is it, Mr. Grand Champion, sir?"

"No, no. It's not me, I promise," Korbin laughs faintly. "Although, I have no doubt that my brothers certainly feel as though I need constant protection, and would be willing to use you a means of keeping me out of trouble from time to time..." He shakes his head. "In any case, what it is that needs protecting... is actually something that you're already familiar with. Something that has been, as you told me just before, left all alone, and abandoned, and without anyone to care for it."

"W-Wait, you... you don't... mean?" Erinil manages to stammer, the sparkle returning in his eyes, and his voice raising an octave higher in pitch as the truth begins to dawn. "You don't mean it's the Abandoned House that needs my protection, do you?!"

"I do, my friend, I do indeed!" Korbin replies, effortlessly mirroring Erinil's unending joy. "Because after your rousing speech of how every house should be loved and cared for – as well as my brother's own suggestion – I came to realize that no one else in all of Nirn could fit the role of home protector, and guardsmen quite like you!"

Upon hearing such incredible words, Erinil leaps from the well, and begins to dance in a circle around Korbin as he hums a familiar tune.

"Oh, dear sweet, Azura!" He cries out, giggling and continuing his song despite how the world blurs from many numerous circles. "This is amazing, this is wonderful, this is the very best possible surprise ever! Even more so than the arrow you gave me! To know that you, the Grand Champion, believes in me, and wants me to do something of worth! To actually protect something and actually take care of it! That is... that is the most remarkable thing I have ever—"

And then suddenly he stops, swaying on his feet slightly, and frowns. "But... but wait... how does someone protect a house?" He questions, mostly to himself, and then turns to address Korbin. "I've never done anything like this before. I mean, I've had a house before, and I've watched it while my brother was away, time and again, but... to protect it, and guard it like you’re suggesting? I don't really think that what you have in mind for me is the same thing as what I've done before..."

"Well, no. It's not the same thing, not exactly," Korbin begins to explain. "But you would stay in the home – much like you did in your own in Bravil – and you would watch over it. Making sure it was kept nice, and that it had a kind presence in it so it wouldn't feel lonely. So, you would sleep, and eat in there, and whatever else that you would like to do to give it company! And, you would also guard the special door in the basement that leads to mine and my family's workspace, as well as taking care of the lovely well that you are absolutely enamored with."

"If that is everything I have to do, sir," Erinil tells him with a gentle grin. "Then I will be able to do it very easily! And very happily at that! Rest assured, my Grand Champion, I will be the very best home protector, and guardsman that you, your brothers, and the rest of your family has ever had in their lifetime, and the next!"

Korbin waves his palms and attempts – somewhat in vain – to somehow quell the boy's excitement so he might get a word in. "Easy, easy, Eri!" He says, unable to keep the laughter from his tone as he deals with the boy. "While I am remarkably glad you are going to do your very best at the job that I have granted you, there is still... one more thing that I have yet to discuss with you, and it is just as important as everything else that is causing your joy and excitement."

"Really?" Erinil tilts his head. "What is it then?"

"It's the matter of what you will do if someone – someone sneaky, suspicious, and not at all looking like myself, or Lucien – comes upon the well, or dares to enter into the Not-So-Abandoned House uninvited," Korbin continues to clarify as best he is able. "But to do that properly, I will have to bring forth the second part of your surprise."

"There's another part of the surprise?" Erinil gasps. "Other than the job you just gave me?"

Korbin nods his head. "Oh yes, indeed there is!" He says, and then pokes a finger to Erinil's forehead once again. "But you will have to wait a moment, as well as close your eyes. After all, if you saw the surprise before I presented it to you, it would spoil, and soil the fantastic mood! So, why don't you spin around a few times, while keeping your eyes closed, and allow me to hear the lovely tune you hummed before... and by the time you're done, then I will be done, and you will have your surprise in the palm of your hand!"

"Aww, really?" Erinil whines as he places his hands over his eyes. "Well, all right, sir! I will do exactly as you said but understand that I shall be waiting more impatiently than ever before, so you should probably hurry as quickly as you can!"

Korbin carefully backs away from the boy, and towards where Lucien and Martin are still leaning against the house in the distance. "Duly noted, Eri. Duly noted." Once he is completely out of earshot, he then spins on his heel, and frantically begins patting himself down. "All right, all right... spare dagger, spare dagger... come on, I know you have to have one in all of these bloody pouches and pockets somewhere... after all, Lucien would surely string you up by your ankles if you so much as dared to leave his sight without—"

And then, as though a sudden light is turned on within his mind, he refocuses his vision upon his brothers, and grins more widely. "Lucien!" He rushes over to where Lucien stands – now looking in his direction upon hearing his name being all but screamed – and rapidly circles around him several times in a row. "My dearest brother, will you hold still for a moment?"

Lucien blinks in genuine surprise, feeling himself being spun around by his Silencer's hands, as his head begins to swim. "Kor-Kor... Korbin, what are you...?" He attempts to ask, struggling to gain his attention somehow, but when his words fall upon deaf ears, he roughly – and dizzily – jerks out of Korbin's grip. "By Sithis, what the hell are you even doing!?"

"Searching for something!" Korbin replies as though it was the most obvious thing in all of the realm itself. "...But I see that you don't have what I am desperately in need of, so I will now turn to our beloved Septim Heir for assistance!" He clasps his hands together, and gestures towards the lighter of his two older brothers. "Dearest Martin! I have quite the question for you, and I do believe you are the only one who might hold the answer!"

Martin turns from Lucien’s side, as he helps him prop more steadily against the wall in the aftermath of Korbin’s spinning assault, with a raised eyebrow.

"Y-Yes, my brother...?" He asks with a concerned tremble in his voice. "What is it that you think I can help with?"

"Oh, it's all very simple really!" Korbin explains with a short wave of his hand. "I wanted to know if you still had that little dagger on you that you kept when Lucien and I pulled you out of the chapel in Kvatch all those months ago."

"My enchanted dagger, you mean," Martin gently corrects, while placing a hand upon his hip where a brown sheath lies. "Well, yes... of course I do. I hardly allowed this single piece of reassurance to leave my side since the first attack upon Kvatch, and throughout all the time spent upon the endless roads together." He shakes his head. "But you should have already known this... so, why are you only asking about it now, Korbin?"

Korbin smiles nervously. "Because I... well, you see, I actually need to take it from you," He explains with an equally uneasy laugh. "So I might use it for something incredibly important, and something that you would surely agree to if you only knew the reason – although you should probably know that I am also quite hesitant to actually share the reason, because if I did, Lucien would have a fit of laughter over it, and I would very much not enjoy having to tackle him to the ground in front of Eri."

Martin's eyes widen in both surprise, and utter confusion. "What?!" He shouts, and then quickly softens his tone so Erinil would not accidentally hear. "What in all of the names of the Divines are you talking about? Why would you ever need to take my dagger from me? I would be rendered defenseless and considering our record for attracting danger, I must say that I, too, am rather hesitant just as well, and rightfully so!"

"Oh, come on, Martin!" Korbin whines with a stomping of his foot that makes him look almost twenty years younger than he should. "I know you might not agree with it, but it's important! It's more than important! It’s... it's..." He looks towards Lucien, then back at Martin, and bends forward; sighing deeply. "It's for Erinil, all right? I offered him a job to become our personal little guardsman of the Abandoned House, and the well, and while he's not exactly going to be rushing off on contracts as myself, or Lucien would... he still needs to protect himself if something happens. Especially if someone gets close and catches him unaware. It's not so much that I'm trying to steal from you, I just want to keep the kid safe, okay?"

He stands back to his full height and runs a hand over the back of his neck. "Besides, if you're really so concerned about being left defenseless, and you don't think you're able to keep yourself safe with just your magic, then... I'll replace your dagger with something even better. Something that will keep you safe ten times over than a simple dagger that tries to shock people to death ever would."

Martin breathes in, looking towards where Erinil spins around in the distance for some unknown reason, and then back to where Korbin stands in front of him, and sighs deeply.

"Brother, I'm still not entirely sure about this. He is such a young boy, what if—?"

"It's going to keep him safe, and out of harm’s way, Martin. I promise you," Korbin adds in his regular tone of voice, and then returns to his whining just as quickly. "Pleaaaaase? For me? Or maybe for Erinil? Whichever one you'd like that would allow the weight on your conscience to be lessened somehow?"

"All right, all right," Martin yields to the power of Korbin’s pleading, and pulls the dagger from its stealth to place it carefully within his hand. "Just... make absolute certain that he doesn't harm himself with it or end up inflicting harm on anyone who does not truly deserve it."

Korbin instantly lights up and envelops Martin into a sudden crushing embrace. "Oh, thank you, brother! Thank you! You are an absolute, and remarkable wonder, and Erinil is going to appreciate this far more than you will ever know!" He lets his brother go after hardly even a full second passes, not nearly enough for Martin to register what exactly he was doing, and then quickly begins to make his way back to Erinil's side.

As Martin is left fumbling for any manner of understanding of what just took place, a brief scoff escapes Lucien's lips. "Ah, the remarkable softness of a holy Priest of Akatosh," He quips with every word dipped in a natural dry wit. "It is always such a sight to behold, and I am so very honored to have witnessed it up close once again. Do you believe that I shall have good luck, or countless blessings in the following weeks because of it, or shall I simply wait for the next moment of tender compassion to grace my eyes?"

That alone is enough to pull Martin back to the present, and he immediately stiffens as a faint red hue overtakes his cheeks. "I do not even wish to hear it, Lachance," He grumbles under his breath in embarrassment. "So simply drop it before I do something that I shall surely regret in retaliation."

"What a glorious Emperor you shall become, Martin," Lucien adds in a mocking tone. "Your gentle heart and hallow threats shall be talked about in countless stories to come, I am almost certain of it."

Closing the distance between the edge of the house, and the side of the well that had become so important in such a short amount of time, Korbin is only able to get partway before Erinil's pointed ears twitch from the familiar sound of leather boots treading partially dead grass underfoot. He quickly spins around with a large smile on his face – all the while hands still cup over his eyes just as his dear Grand Champion had told him only prior to leaving him alone.

"Mr. Grand Champion, sir?" The young boy calls, unable to keep the excitement from his voice even slightly. "Is that you that I am hearing? I hear boots, and I hear grass, so that must mean you're coming back now, right? And if you're coming back, then that means I can stop spinning, humming, and hiding my eyes, right!? Because you're back, with my surprise, and you're only second away from giving it to me?!"

Korbin chuckles – something that had become almost instinctive while remaining in the presence of his beloved little fan – and lowers himself into a kneel. "Yes, and no, actually, Eri," He tells him, and then carefully turns the blade of Martin's dagger, that was about to become Erinil's, in the palm of his hand. "I have indeed returned, but I'm afraid you'll have to continue to keep your eyes closed for a few moments longer, as I want you to –"

"—Awww, no!" Erinil interrupts with the same impatient whining. "No, no, no! But sir! But you said that—"

"—As I want you to hold out your hand for me, so I might give to you your very special surprise at long last," Korbin completes his sentence before Erinil could accuse him of trickery with a softer laugh. "Do you think you could do that for me, my friend? I mean, you have done everything else that I have asked of you almost perfectly, so I highly doubt that thrusting out your hand will be too difficult of a task for you to—" He begins to say the word ‘accomplish’, but before he can even form it with his lips, he feels a sudden pressure coming to collide in the center of his armor.

With a groan, he looks down with a curious stare, and realizes that Erinil – in all of his innocent, childish, and unending excitement that he had surely not helped to quell even remotely – did just as he so asked of him, but did it far too quickly. Causing his little fist to accidentally punch him directly in the chest by mistake. Korbin shakes his head, burying down the weak wave of pain that courses through his body for only an instance, and then smiles inwardly.

Knowing that, once again, that this was the right choice. That this boy belonged here. And that he was doing a good thing in granting him his own place among them. Although... he would surely have to work on the force of his attack at some point. But that would certainly come at a much later time, if it even came at all without the ominous presence of his brother’s rage looming directly over his shoulder.

He places the dagger within Erinil's extended hand, and slowly closes his fingers around the hilt. "All right, you can go ahead and open your eyes now." Korbin tells him; his tone slowly shifting and becoming more tender, gentler as he speaks to the boy.

Erinil takes his remaining hand from his eyes, and then blinks as he becomes increasingly aware of just how brightly the sun above him shines, how pretty the walls, and houses around him actually look, and just how happy seeing the Grand Champion in front of him makes him feel. He smiles, about to greet him warmly, to tell him hello, when Korbin points a finger down to his hand.

The boy's eyes flicker with confusion for a moment, as his nose crinkles, and then suddenly he remembers why he held out his hand in the first place! It wasn't just to follow the Grand Champion's every word; it was because of his special surprise! His special present! The thing the Grand Champion had told him would go along swimmingly with the amazing job he had received!

He looks down and is met with a flash of silver shimmering against the light of the sun. At first, he is uncertain what to make of what was lying within the palm of his hand. It looked... quite shiny, and incredibly sharp, to be sure, but it also looked extremely beautiful; just as beautiful as the rest of the city around him, but with something considerably more unique that radiated amidst the silver.

The silver looked as though it glowed. Or sparked, or even flickered, perhaps? Whatever the case may have been, it appeared to the boy’s eye that there was indeed something special about this tool – something almost magical – that made his hands tremble, and not simply because the Grand Champion gave it to him!

After a moment of consideration, and when his mind finally chooses to act proper once again, he breathes through an overwhelmed gasp, and brings the blade close to his chest; familiar confusion mixed with a much more natural awe illumining brightly in his large green eyes.

"...What is this, sir?" He asks somewhat cautiously; almost afraid the Grand Champion would take back his gift just as quickly as he had bestowed it if he somehow dared to question. "I mean... I know what it looks like. It looks like a tool of some kind, the same kind that you use to cut leather, or to carve wood, and yet it seems very different than any I have seen before! And if is so different, and so very special at the same time, then... why are you giving it to me?"

Korbin places his hands over Erinil's shoulders. "Do you remember what I told you before, Eri?" He asks; speaking with the same gentle tone. "That there was another part to the job I had given you, and how it was based around what you may have to do if someone you don’t know – someone who does not look like myself, or my siblings – come upon the house, or the well unexpectedly?"

Erinil nods his head. "Oh yes, I do, sir! Very easily, in fact!" He says with an overly pleased giggle. "After all, it was only a few moments ago that you first said it, and that was when—"

"—Erinil, my friend, I want you to try and focus for a moment, all right?" Korbin interjects firmly. "And the reason I want you to do that is because I need you to understand why I am entrusting this dagger to you. And why it is incredibly important, perhaps even the most important thing there is, that you always keep it on you when you are within the house, and around the well."

"...Is it because you want me to whittle special presents for you, and your family, so I can give them as much joy as you have given me with all of your amazing gifts?"

Korbin shakes his head with a more amused laugh at the sight of Erinil's persistent innocence. "No, no. It's nothing like that. I mean, yes, it is a gift, and I would truly enjoy anything you gave me in return, but it's..." His words trail off for a moment, and he stares up into the sky above in the hopes of locating the appropriate wording needed to help the boy understand the gravity of the situation without somehow crushing his enthusiasm in the process. "Oh, Sithis, how am I going to explain this to you? It's... It’s more as though I want you to keep this dagger on you because of defensive reasons."

"Defensive reasons, sir?" Erinil repeats Korbin’s words; holding out the dagger in both hands and staring down at it as his confusion only grows.

"Understand that I don't want to scare you, or anything, Eri," Korbin begins to say. "And I hope and pray to whoever gives enough of a damn that it would never have to actually come to this, but... if someone starts skulking around, and attempts to get into the house, or the well, or... even worse, if they try to get close to you, and does anything that isn't very nice"—he points to the dagger in the boy's hand—"then I want you to take this blade, and I want to fight back. Fight back just exactly as I did in the Arena and send them one of the most unforgettable messages that you can possibly give them!"

Erinil blinks as he struggles to make sense of what he is being told. "You want me to... to give them a message, sir?" He shakes his head. "With... with this blade you just gave me?"

"Yes! Yes, that is precisely what I want you to do!" Korbin cries out as he squeezes the boy's shoulders affectionately. "Oh, I just knew you would eventually realize what I was attempting to tell you if I spelled it out carefully enough! I want you to do everything I just said, and everything you just repeated, and make absolute certain that you sign such a message with the utmost brilliant source of red ink there is available!"

However, despite Korbin's cheerful attempts to help Erinil understand, the young Bosmer merely feels his head beginning to spin in circles at the Grand Champion's words. He feels just as he had when he told him that he wouldn't let him go off to Bravil alone, and his brothers found him afterwards. He thought he understood, and yet the more the Grand Champion spoke, the less sense that it made! First he gave him a special little blade, and now he is saying that he wishes for him to use it for some strange purpose when uninvited guests arrive at the about-to-be-cared-for house, and the lovely secret well he is standing near?

What was all this talk about writing messages, and signing with red ink? He knew that he was much younger than the Grand Champion and his brothers, but even he knew what could be used as a writing instrument, and what couldn't! And this blade most certainly could not! After all, it had no feathers, thus making it different from a quill, and it had nothing it could be dipped into and be used for writing!

It wasn't a source of magic that could be transformed into a very pretty, very fancy spell to write upon the air much like his brother used to do... it was a blade! A blade which could be used for many different tasks, certainly, but not for writing! How could the Grand Champion get them so terribly mixed up?

Perhaps he was tired from such a long journey, and from winning every match in the Arena... but even if that was the case, he still should have known better! But then again, the more that he thought about it, the more he realized that all his words made very little sense.

Why, oh why, would the Grand Champion want him to dirty his special gift he just presented? He most definitely did not want to smudge the silver, or stop the blue that flickered-sparked every few seconds; he wanted to do nothing more than keep it safe, keep it clean, and wear it on his belt with the utmost pride, and do the job he was given with his head held high!

Go away messages, or ‘sorry, but you are not invited’ letters could be written with normal quills, and normal ink much later if they were so desperately needed! But not with his special blade! As his mind finally begins to settle, and his own version of the truth behind the Grand Champion’s words becomes clear, Erinil puffs out his cheeks in response, and stomps his foot in sheer frustration.

"Sir, you're not making much sense!" He whines, but there is a hint of childish anger just underneath. "I know that you said you didn't know how you were going to explain this to me, but what you chose is quite bad! Very bad, actually! Because now you're just confusing a quill with a blade, and I will have you know that they are two completely different things entirely!"

Korbin blinks; taken aback. "Wait, what do you—?"

"Here, look! I'll show you!" Erinil holds the blade firmly in one hand, and then makes a writing gesture with the other. "Do you see? You write messages with a quill, or a special pen! Most certainly not a blade! Blades are supposed to be used for crafts, or armoring! Not messages! Besides, how would I even fit the blade into the inkwell? It's far too big! And even if I did, it would end up slicing through the paper, and would make any message look terribly messy, and then no one would want to read it!"

"Eri, I don't think you're—"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Grand Champion, sir. But I think you're just very, very confused from a very long journey together!" Erinil reaches and pats Korbin's shoulder. "Maybe you should go take a nap with your brothers for a while, because even I know what can be used for writing, and what can't! No matter how special the message is, or how great the ink may be!"

Korbin barks a genuine laugh, and then slowly pries the boy's hand from his shoulder. "My dear adoring fan, I do not think it is I who is the one confused here," He says through a half gasp, half chuckle. "Because I wasn't actually being serious with what I said about using the dagger to send a message or dipping it into the province's most natural source of red."

"You didn't?" Erinil tilts his head. "Then what did you mean? And why would you word it in such a confusing way?"

"Well, I worded it in that way because I was trying to be discreet enough so I wouldn't end up frightening you."

Erinil stomps his foot; upset over the fact that Grand Champion was seeing him as a child once again. "I don't get frightened easily, sir! You know that!" Erinil says, and then moves past his anger to force a smile. "So, you can tell me anything that you want! It's perfectly all right!"

Korbin finds himself running a nervous hand over the back of his neck. "Right, well... the whole thing about using the dagger to send a message? I meant it as using it against any enemy that tried to hurt you, or attempted to breech our hideout," He explains with a strained smile. This was not at all as easy "And the, ah, red ink? It wasn't ink, it was... well, you know. But actually, perhaps you don’t, and perhaps I should just come out and say it directly? It was blood. The very same blood of the enemy that would fall at your hand because of your dagger."

"...W-What...? Bl-Blo...Blood?" Erinil stammers in response; caught between wanting to clutch the dagger closer to his chest protectively and wanting to simply throw it down into the grass in disgust. "But why... but why would you ever want me to... to do something like... something like that?"

The sound of a harsh slap is heard from across the yard, and Korbin does not have to look over his shoulder to know that one of his siblings were actively trying to shove the palm of their own hand through the entirety of their forehead. What he does not expect, however, is an all too familiar shadow to suddenly envelop over him, or to be able to feel the heat of his piercing stare burning a fresh hole in the back of his head.

Whatever uneasiness he may have felt whilst explaining the concept of daggers and blood to Erinil only doubles when he feels Lucien's hand come to fall within his messy grey locks – and then quickly shove him to the side with a single push.

"For the love of the Dread Father, you are making an absolute fool out of yourself," Lucien hisses through a sharp breath as he scowls at his Silencer now toppled over into the grass. "I do not believe, in all my many years of life, that I have ever witnessed someone butcher an explanation of what to do with a weapon so thoroughly as you are doing in this moment. That is quite the considerable accomplishment, and you should be utterly ashamed of yourself."

With a huff, Korbin sits up, and spits dead pieces of grass from his mouth. "Look, he asked for the truth behind my words, and I simply gave it to him!" He shouts his irritated reply. "What would you have me do, lie to the very boy who is about to brought into our world?!"

"No, but I would have you do a far better job than you are currently," Lucien crosses his arms over his chest. "In fact, your explanation was so atrocious and insulting to anyone who had the misfortune to hear it, that Martin practically begged me to come over and end this madness before it had a chance to continue."

"Well, fine then!" Korbin all but bellows; looking as though he could be the Bosmer boy's mirror image in childishness to Lachance's dark gaze. "If you think that you're somehow capable of doing a better job than I did... then by all means! Be my guest and see where it gets you!"

"It would truly be my utmost pleasure," Lucien murmurs, and then slowly kneels down into the grass in front of Erinil just as Korbin had only prior. "Now listen carefully, child. What is it my Silencer was attempting to tell you, and has surely failed to do so... is actually quite simple when you do not go out of the way to soften the blow of reality for the sake of a tender heart. The glorious weapon he entrusted to you... the one you currently have within your possession there?"—he gestures to it with a nod of his chin—"Do you understand what it shall be used for?"

Erinil shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. "...To be used to send a message to those that you, or the Grand Champion, or the rest of the family do not want to have at their home to spend an evening with, Mr. Lachance?"

"No, no, no," Lucien wags a finger. "Nothing quite so... poetic as my Silencer may have described it for you. What it is you shall actually do with that dagger is carry it upon your person at all times. You will never take it off, as it shall serve as a means of protecting yourself from any and all harm that might befall you whilst you stay within the Abandoned House, or when you guard the exterior of the home, and the well that rests just beside it."

"Oh! Well, if that's what the Grand Champion meant, then I can most certainly—"

"Ah, but there is one more thing," Lucien interrupts the boy before he can toss himself into a joyous ramble. "And it is regarding how you shall use that very same weapon to promptly deal with guests we do not desire having at our home – as you so eloquently described them. You see, your Grand Champion, myself, as well as Martin – for the dagger now in your hand once belonged to him for a time – wishes for you to use your newfound gift and root out those who should not be in the vicinity. Those who seek to uncover the sanguine tinted secrets lurking just beneath the surface of the well, and household, and wish nothing more than to bring grievous harm upon us all."

Erinil turns the hilt of the dagger over in his palm almost absentmindedly as he listens. Once he believes that Lucien had finally finished speaking, he asks a curious question.

"...But how would I ‘promptly deal’ with all the uninvited guests with something like my blade tool, Mr. Lachance?"

"Why, by plunging it deep into their miserable bodies, of course!" Lucien explains far too calmly; his voice a mixture of stoic composure, and a rather strange patience as he speaks candidly of terrifying subject matter. "For that is the true power lurking within your gift. Not to create quaint trinkets of wood, or to shape the most glorious of leather, but to find those who dare to stand against us and end their curiosity in a more permanent sense. Until they take heed of the warning you are sending them, or they merely fall over in a heap. Dead by your sweet bloodstained little hand."

Erinil's eyes grow wider than the dual moons that dance within the darkness of the night sky as he listens to Lucien's horrific words, and he instantly drops the dagger as a choked sob is pulled from his throat.

"But I... but I don't... but, sir! M-Mr... Mr. Lachance, sir! I don't want to do anything like that to anyone!"

And that is the final straw that shatters Martin's saint like patience into pieces. He could stand idly by and allow his dearest friends to go along with the concept of bringing Erinil into the fold of the Dark Brotherhood for the sake of keeping him safe whilst waiting for the return of his elder brother.

He could also swallow his pride, as well as his morals, and allow Korbin to take his dagger as a means of giving it to the boy in the slightest hope it would protect him well enough while doing whatever foolish, makeshift job he had come up with out of absolute nowhere... but to watch the both of them speak of such harsh, cruel, and vicious things Erinil without any possible filter to their words?

To tell him he would do well to bury his blade into anyone that looked even slightly interested in the Abandoned House for one reason or another? And to watch him whimper to the point of tears when he realizes just what it was that were truly telling him? That was simply one step too far, and he surely could not take such an awful sight any longer.

"By the Divines, the Daedra, and anyone else who is having to suffer witnessing this lunacy with their own eyes!" He cries out; an almost furious growl accompanying his words as he sprints from where he was leaning, and over to Erinil's side in an instant. "What in the name of everything light, and holy is wrong with the two of you!? Are you desperately trying to give this poor boy gruesome nightmares for the rest of his young life with your open discussion of death and bloodshed? Because if that is truly the case, then you are making quite the remarkable show of it!"

Lucien blinks with a short frown over his lips; completely unfazed by Martin's sudden dramatic shouting. "...For your information, Septim, I am merely in the process of doing exactly what it is you asked of me."

"No, you are absolutely not doing anything of the sort!" Martin bites back as he pulls Erinil close to him with one hand; his blue gaze beginning to shine with a flicker of gold the angrier he becomes. "If you recall, I asked you to stop Korbin before he managed to frighten the boy all the way back to Bravil... but what you are in the process of doing is effectively the very same thing, albeit considerably much worse!"

"...Mr. Martin, sir?" Erinil whispers as he tugs the sleeve of Martin's blue robing; shock and confusion overtaking his large eyes as he looks up. "Do you... do you really want me to take my special little blade, and p-plu-plunge it into someone who doesn't belong...?"

"Of course not, little one!" Martin instantly replies, and then softens his tone of voice so that his anger would not carry over and cause Erinil further distress somehow. "I would never dream of asking you do something of that nature, and I am so terribly sorry that Korbin and Lachance frightened you with their conversation, but they are often—"

"—There is no need to coddle the boy, Martin," Lucien interrupts with a scoff. "After all, I was not telling him anything that my own father did not tell me at such an age. He is old enough to know of the world’s unflinching cruelty and realize that he must take precaution to keep himself alive, as well as honing his prowess so he might crush his enemies into blood-soaked dust beneath his heel."

Martin breathes in, and it takes every amount of strength he can muster – and then some – not to simply summon forth a random spell to hand and cast it in Lachance's direction. He swallows down the desire to light the rim of Lucien’s robing on fire and allows his anger to flow from his lips through a weary sigh and be replaced with an equal amount of disappointment in its stead. He isn't certain, nor does he quite care, if that is somehow better, or worse.

"...How is it even humanly possible for the two of you to be such cherished companions by my side one moment..." Martin begins to say; allowing his words to trail for a single instance as he turns to cast a more deeply gold tinted glare over his shoulder towards both Korbin and Lucien. "And then turn into something absolutely appalling in the very next? It truly astounds me, and while we have only known one another for a short time now... I can easily tell this will be one puzzle I shall never hope to make sense of, or ever truly understand. And yet, considering the damage you cause from such shifting... perhaps it would be better if I simply spare myself the trouble."

Lucien blinks in genuine surprise, and then slowly turns his head to the side as a faint redness overtakes the corners of his cheeks in response to Martin's reprimanding. The sensation feeling both strange, and deeply uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of for the first time in many years. But it is Korbin himself that bows his head; concealing his more pained expression underneath layers of messy hair.

It was not as though Martin was speaking untruly, because he knew well that he botched his means of trying to soften the blow of Assassination to Erinil in so many ways, yet to hear his brother’s genuine displeasure over his actions...

Korbin did not realize that it could sting so deeply.

As silence falls between the darker of the siblings for an almost awkward moment, Martin chooses to use it to his advantage to begin to smooth over the cracks of the uncomfortable air that had been left in the aftermath of Korbin and Lucien's dreadful wake, as well as the sudden sight of his scolding. He turns slightly, and then moves to place a hand atop the crown of Erinil's head with a far kinder smile resting over his lips.

"Well now, little one," He says in a gentle tone as he extends his free hand to the boy. "Now that they have been properly put in their place, why don't you come with me for a moment, and I shall do my best to explain in as great of detail as I can muster how you can most certainly keep the new position of guarding this home that my brother has bestowed to you, but without"—Martin pauses, and then looks over to where Lucien now sits awkwardly alongside Korbin in the grass—"any of Lachance's needless brutality."

Erinil giggles under Martin's touch and shakes his head to force his hand out of his blond curls. "All right, Mr. Martin, sir!" He says through a squeal; the sparkle in his eyes, and the familiar innocence starting to return as he intertwines his fingers with Martin's. "Lead the way, as I'm right behind you! And not only me, but my special blade as well! The blade that will not be used to write messages, hurt people that don't deserve it, or anything of that awful, and terrible sort, I assure you!"

"Wonderful to hear!" Martin cries happily, watching with a chuckle as Erinil swings their arms together while walking side by side. "Now then, let me see... where shall I begin?"

*~*~*

As the golden hue of a setting sun slowly begins to slip past the numerous rows of autumn touched trees that rest upon distant hilltops surrounding the outskirts of the city of Cheydinhal, and brings about the fading light of an evening spent before the cool, welcoming shadows of night rushes forward to more properly take its place, Martin and Erinil find themselves within the multicolored grass that adorns the yard surrounding the Abandoned House.

They sit with their backs to the cobblestone well, discussing matters of the young Bosmer boy's newly appointed, and incredibly grownup job in a far more relaxed, and restrained matter. All the while allowing themselves to grasp onto the feeling of peace, and quiet, now that both Lucien and Korbin had chosen – with only a single warning glare to serve as the deciding factor compared to the many heated words that had come before – to grant them privacy, and retreated into the interior of the home for the time being.

When Martin finally reaches the conclusion of his explanation, and without any need to go into the gruesome details of bloodshed and death, he reaches to touch the top of Erinil's head once more with a content smile spreading over his gentle features.

"Now, I realize everything that I have just shared with you was incredibly vast, and perhaps even overwhelming at first, but you did a remarkable job remaining still, and listening to every word I spoke with rapt attention, and I am quite proud of you because of it!" He praises the boy with a gentle pat over his curly blond locks in emphasis to his words. "Did any of it assist in helping you better understand what it is that you need to do whilst guarding the household, why such a task is so incredibly important, and why it was that Korbin and Lachance wished for you to carry the dagger upon your person at all times?"

Erinil nods his head, as he absentmindedly runs his fingers over blades of grass. "Y-Yes, I... I think I do now, Mr. Martin," He says, and then looks up with a faint smile all his own. "They... gave me this job because they need someone to not only take care of the house, but also the pretty door in the basement, and the well we're leaning up against while we continue talking."

"Yes, that's correct. And do you know the reason why they need someone to protect these things?"

"Hmmhm! I do!" Erinil states proudly, then he breathes in and begins speaking in as serious of a voice as he can muster. "Because what all these places lead to is a very special location where the Grand Champion, Mr. Lachance, as well as all the other members of their family work together to get rid of all the very bad, nasty people in the world. But it's also where they gather when their work is finally done. So, they really don't want anyone who doesn't belong to suddenly come into their home out of nowhere, or without knocking, because that would make family gatherings – like suppertime, sleep time, and quiet time – so much more awkward and uncomfortable because of the unwanted guests."

Martin chuckles warmly at Erinil’s rather wonderful, yet incredibly naive view of what it is his dear companions actively indulge in time and again. The boy was both quite correct in what it is he describes – despite it being overwhelmed with an air of innocence that he hopes that he shall never grow out of – and very wrong at the same time. And while he is uncertain if there shall ever come a day where he will be openly supportive of Lucien and Korbin’s grisly profession... they are still the ones who saved his life in the flames of Kvatch, who gave him a reason to go on when all hope had faded in his life, and who he lovingly views as his adoptive siblings.

And from that, he still encourages Erinil to continue describing what it is that he had managed to learn throughout their long discussion. "Yes, perfectly right," He says with a nod of his own. "And what is the final thing I helped you to understand?"

"Oh yes! It is about the gift the Grand Champion gave to me, and what it is that I have to do with it!" Erinil leans to the side, past the grass, and carefully gathers the enchanted blade into his palms, before turning and showing Martin with a pleased smile. "Oh rather, what not to do! Because, no matter what it is the Grand Champion, and Mr. Lachance tried instructing me about with their very scary words, that almost made me want to throw my special gift down the special well, I don't actually have to hurt anyone to keep myself safe, right?"

"You are indeed right," Martin clarifies. "But what is it you do if someone comes upon you that you do not recognize, nor trust?"

Erinil takes the blade by the hilt and holds it in front of him. "All I have to do is hold it like a proper weapon – like what I'm doing here – show it to the person I don't really know, and then they would realize that I was a very important guard, as well as a very capable adult with a very adult job, and all that amazing knowledge, and the fact I was doing my job so well, would simply force them to run away with their tails between their legs in shock and awe!"

He giggles at his own words, and then places the dagger back into the grass. "Or, if that doesn't work... I just have to run into the pretty door, look for the Grand Champion, or Mr. Lachance, and they will end up taking care of things on my behalf!"

Martin claps his hands together. "Yes, that is precisely what you do!" He shouts in an overly pleased manner, as he mirrors Erinil’s smile. "Very well done! You’ve managed to successfully understand everything I have told you quite magnificently! Once again, I must say the pride that I feel for you is almost unending, little one!"

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Martin, sir! Thank you very much!" Erinil cries out, waving his arms back and forth in a show of genuine joy; but after a moment passes, he returns to sitting at Martin's side. "Really though... that's what I thought the Grand Champion, and Mr. Lachance wanted me to do from the very beginning... and while I really didn't have any issues with that, and I'm more than happy to do my job as best I can, I just..."

He turns to look at Martin with confusion flickering in his gaze. "I just don't understand why they didn't tell me that in the first place. Instead of saying all those scary words about plunging my special gift into someone's body, or writing messages stained with actual blood, and not some sort of special ink!"

Martin frowns and begins running a thumb over his knuckles. "Ah yes, well... you will have to try and forgive them for speaking to you in such a way," He tells the boy, his voice gentle and patient. "I do not think they intentionally wished to frighten you with their candidness... for I believe they truly thought that they were doing the right thing by using honeyed words to mask the truth – in Korbin's case – or choosing to be direct – in Lucien's. However, you were still frightened regardless, and it certainly goes to show that they still have much learn about proper etiquette when interacting with others, as well as understanding that not everyone grew up in the ways they did."

A short pause falls between them both as Martin attempts to help the boy understand, and he takes it as a means to continue.

"But, do not feel as though they simply signaled you out, my little friend!" He says with a playful half grin, as he turns the conversation to reassurance, rather than explanation "For you should know that they have done the very same thing to me once or twice – although their intentions were surely more childish than what they did with you here in Cheydinhal."

He sighs almost fondly. "Oh, I recall when I first met them so many months ago, that when the time came for us to make camp after leaving Kvatch, they truly went out of their way to torment me with so many gruesome details of what they did for a living! And not only that, but to also confirm various rumors I may have heard in passing regarding Assassins. Obviously, looking back now, I realize that they were doing nothing more than trying to get a rise out of me – especially Lachance who goaded Korbin into partaking in it along with him – but it still remained the cause of my nightmares for several—"

"—Hm, Mr... Martin, sir?" And then suddenly Erinil speaks once again; his voice quiet, and sheepish as it pulls Martin's attention from the past, and back into the present. "May I... may I ask you a question? If that's... hm, okay to do so?"

Martin leans in close, his smile still in place, and tender as ever. "Yes, of course you may, Erinil," He tells him. "You never have to ask permission to share whatever is on your mind. Is this the same question you attempted to ask of me before, that I never quite had a chance to answer properly? The one where you were curious as to why I do not live here in Cheydinhal with Korbin and Lucien?"

Erinil shakes his head. "No, no, it's not that one, sir," He replies with a faint giggle. "Although I still am very curious to know what you mean, exactly, when you say that it was only months ago when you first met your brothers. Because, I thought that brothers were supposed to be together, and at each other's sides no matter what. So, how is that you speak as though you only just met them?" He then claps his hands together as a thought comes to mind. "Unless, of course, you actually lost them at some point, and they've only just came back into your life again for the first time"—he lowers his hands to his lap—"but even if that is the reason, I’m afraid that it’s still very confusing to me!"

"Yes, ah, well, you see...." Martin stammers, intentionally allowing his words to trail off in a means of diverting Erinil's attention elsewhere. Not at all wanting to confuse the boy further, or tear down whatever concept he held of him and his chosen siblings being genuinely blood related. "Was... was there not another question you were rather eager to ask? You said that was not the one you had in mind, despite you still being curious over it, so what was it you actually wished to know?"

"Oh!" Erinil suddenly ceases his rambling and turns back towards Martin with an embarrassed blush spreading quickly over his freckled cheeks. "Oh dear! Oh, dear me, you are right, sir! In fact, you are very right! I'm so sorry, I seemed to have gotten sidetracked somehow!"

"No, it's quite all right; but I am rather curious about your other question."

"And I am very pleased to share it, as well as get my answer, but..." Erinil looks down; twiddling his thumbs for a moment as his voice quiets to a whisper. "But... you'll – you'll have to promise that you won't get mad at me when I go into the details, okay?"

Martin's eyes soften. "You have my word, little one."

"All right, well... it was when we were all on the road together in the nice, big wagon that the Grand Champion bought with the coin he won in the Arena," Erinil begins to explain. "I was in the back of the wagon, about to take a very nice nap... when I suddenly heard you and one of your brother's talking to each other. And I... " He bows his head almost shamefully. "And I know that I shouldn't have – I shouldn't have listened in to the conversation, because I know it was very private, and it's rude to eavesdrop without permission, but..."

Erinil sighs, and then leans back against the well more heavily. "I heard Mr. Lachance calling you 'Septim' again. He calls you that name a lot, even more than your actual name, Mr. Martin."

Martin lightly scoffs. "Ah, that he does, Erinil. That he does, indeed."

"But then I started wondering why he calls you that, and then I remembered that the name Septim is the name the Emperors have...or, hm, had, at least in regard to our last Emperor that sadly died," Erinil continues on with a frown, and a crinkled nose. "So, if Mr. Lachance calls you that, and calls you that a lot, does that... does that mean that you're a Septim? And that you're going to... you're going to become our new Emperor after everything is finally done? The Emperor of all of Cyrodiill itself?"

"That is indeed the end goal to all of our plans, Divines above be willing and understanding to them," Martin responds as he steals a glance upwards into the clouds; after a moment, and a silent prayer, he turns his focus back on the boy. "At the moment, we have our gazes set upon a quiet little priory that rests on the outskirts of the city of Chorrol. There, we shall meet with a man named named Jauffre that shall, hopefully, make sense of everything I have been told in such a short amount of time. That, of which, involves the concept of me being the son of the late Emperor, and what it is that I must do to assist with the current state of things in every corner of the province."

Erinil’s frown deepens as he stares down at his feet. "...That sounds... very complicated, and rather frightening to have to deal with so suddenly, sir."

"It certainly is, my friend," Martin nods in agreement. "And that is not even going into the finer details of the complications that have arisen whilst on our journey. In fact, we were actually on our way to this very Priory when we ran afoul of some rather sour luck, prompting us to stop in the Imperial City."

"Oh! Oh dear, oh dear! And then you met me and had to go out of your way to transport me to Bravil, and then over to here when the transporting didn’t work!" Erinil places the palms of his hands underneath his cheeks. "I am so very sorry, Mr. Martin Septim, sir! I did not mean to distract you from your journey, or your mission, or whatever it is called when you are trying very hard to become the new Emperor!"

Martin waves a gentle hand. "Erinil, Erinil! Easy now!" He calls out, hoping to gain his attention; and when he finally does at last, he softens his voice. "It's quite all right, little one. It's far more than all right, actually. Because meeting you, and then coming here together? It was a rather welcomed distraction, and a fantastic way to ease the stress from mine, as well as my brother's shoulders for a time."

Erinil pauses, realizing what the soon-to-be Emperor of all of Cyrodiil is telling him, and slowly smiles with a familiar twinkle in his eyes. "O-Oh...well, as long as I was helping, and not harming, sir!" But just as soon as Erinil's natural innocence returns to his joyful words, as well as his boyish features, another extended silence then falls over them.

It is sudden, and out of nowhere, and Martin worries if his younger friend is concerned with something else he may have heard during their shared journey together. Something he, himself, may have said, or something his brothers may have done without realizing whose presence they were actually in. He goes to open his mouth, to question him over that very thing, when Erinil's voice breaks through the silence once again.

"...A-Act...Actually sir, while on the same subject, is it... okay if I ask you another question?" He wonders both curiously, and cautiously. "And it's... perfectly all right if you tell me no, because I know the question, and what it entails will be asking a lot, so – so I won't be upset if that’s what you say!"

Martin chuckles warmly and touches his hand to Erinil's own. "Ask whatever it is that you wish, my dear friend," He squeezes the boy's hand in reassurance. "Remember what I told you? You never have to ask permission to share whatever is on your mind at any given time. For I am always much more than content to listen to anything and everything you may have to say, ask, or otherwise."

"Even if you are going to be the Emperor?"

Martin's laughter turns much fonder. "Even if I am going to be the Emperor," He tells him simply. "Now, what did you wish to ask?"

Erinil breathes in, sitting up straighter, and hoping to look as grownup as possible. "Well, I was just... I was just wondering if... when you do finally become our new, and very special Emperor, after you and your brothers save the province from all these Gates I keep hearing about, and fight back against all of the bad, scary things that are out there..." His words trail, and then his voice slips into a whisper; as though he is afraid to say the words aloud in fear of being rejected. "Would it... be okay if I came to your very special, very wonderful coronation? So that I can see you become Emperor with my very own eyes?"

A tender smile touches Martin's lips upon beholding the young boy's genuine, almost endless innocence once more. He had seen it so many times before and is more than certain he will it see many times again, but now... it seemed as though it nearly radiated an all too welcoming serenity within such a simple, harmless question.

"Well, now, you should know that is still quite a long way away, as I have not even laid my hands upon the Amulet of Kings itself, or allowed anyone other than you, or Lachance to know of my apparent heritage," He clarifies gently, and then rests a hand upon his chest as he explains in further detail. "However, that is not to say I am refusing what you are asking. In truth, it is quite the opposite, as I would be so much more than honored if you did come and witness my coronation."

He lowers his hand from his chest with the other and intertwines his fingers together in front of him as his voice flows with continual joy as he remains within Erinil’s presence. "So, yes – to answer your question – yes, my dear little friend, of course you may be there if you so wish it! I would surely love nothing more!"

Erinil's ears droop with faint disappointment. "Aww, well, that's okay, Mr. Martin Septim, sir! As I said, it was perfectly all right if you told me no, as I was certainly asking a lot, so it isn’t as though I’m..." And then his words suddenly trail off into nothingness, rendering his sentence incomplete as he finally listens, and comes to realize what it is that Martin is actually saying. And when he does, his eyes widen considerably, and shine with the twinkling light of a thousand stars all at once. "W-Wait... wait! Wait just a moment now, Mr. Martin Septim, sir! I'm... I'm not sure if I heard correctly, and I am sure I may have this so very wrong, but, but, but... did you just... did you just say that it... that it was all right?!"

Martin laughs in good humor to the boy's brief confusion. "I did indeed, Erinil!" He says as his smile widens. "It's perfectly all right, and I would surely enjoy your presence at such an event. Would you like that, little one? To be among the crowds and – as you said – witness me becoming the newly appointed Emperor with your very own eyes?"

Erinil quickly leaps to his feet and begins to flap his arms up and down as a new wave of happiness, and absolute excitement overtakes him.

"Oh, yes! Oh, yes, sir! I would, sir! Oh, how I would! By Azura, it would be the most amazing, most incredible thing that I have ever—!" He stops midway through his delighted rambling once more, realizing all too suddenly that he was now in the process of screaming, and dancing around the soon-to-be-Emperor of all of Cyrodiil, and quickly brings his arms back down to his sides; a more composed smile doing its part to show everything that he was feeling, and more. "I-I mean... I would very, very much enjoy being a guest of such a wondrous event like that, sir. It would be the highest of honors that you could possibly grant me."

"Then consider it absolutely done, dear Erinil. However," Martin begins in the same kind tone as before; holding out a hand to gesture with as he speaks. "There is no need to conceal your excitement from my eyes. I may indeed be Emperor one day, but I would still cherish the sight of my beloved companions sharing their happiness, and joy in whatever ways they deem most appropriate. Such as you do with the many numerous dances you have shown me these last several days, along with every new laugh, every new song, as well as the endearing spinning, and the adorable flapping."

"Wait, are you saying that I'm... that I'm a beloved companion to you, Mr. Martin Septim, sir?"

Martin reaches out and cups the palm of his hand against Erinil's cheek. "But of course, you are, little one. Was there ever any doubt?"

"There was just a little bit. At least at first," Erinil admits with a faint blush over the same cheeks Martin is gently touching. "But you have managed to make it fade away in the most wonderful way possible, sir! And replaced with so many other, equally as amazing, emotions in its place!"

"Well now, I am so very thankful to hear—"

And then suddenly Martin feels small arms come to wrap tightly around him with the strength of a man twice Erinil's size, and he merely closes his eyes as he returns the embrace just as fervently. He rests one hand against the small of the boy's back, while the other ruffles the top of his golden curls once again. He hears Erinil giggle from the touch, and he cannot help but mimic the contagious laughter just as well. A moment passes, Erinil squeezes Martin one final time, and then suddenly he is pulling away with the brightest expression that Martin has seen on the boy's face since they first met in front of the Arena.

"Thank you, sir," Erinil says genuinely, as he reaches to wipe at his green eyes, where overwhelmed tears had gathered. "Thank you so much. You are truly amazing, Mr. Martin Septim, sir."

Sighing softly, Martin holds up a hand with a half-smile. "Just Mr. Martin is fine for now, as I shall remain simply Martin for quite some time before the titles of royalty shall fall upon my shoulders," He explains, and then chuckles. "But you're welcome, little one. You are so very welcome."

Erinil pulls himself up to his feet, spins in a full circle, and then proceeds to half sprint, half stumble his way through the grassy yard, and up towards the front of the Abandoned Home.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my! Just wait until the Grand Champion, and Mr. Lachance learn of this amazing, and incredible thing!" He cries out, cheerfully dancing on his feet as he opens the main door to the house, and rushes inside. "They're going to be so incredibly excited! I just know it! Because I'm going to be there with them that night! In the crowds with all the rest of the amazing, incredible people that helped Mr. Martin get to where he is going to be! And I'll be cheering the entire time when he is finally dubbed Emperor! By Azura, by Azura, by Azura! This is truly one of the best days of my entire life!"

And as Erinil continues shouting in glee over just how wonderful the future coronation shall be, and how jealous his own brother will end up becoming once he learns of him not only meeting the Grand Champion of the Arena, but also having a grownup job of his very own, and becoming one of the beloved companions of the future Emperor himself... Martin simply shakes his head with an amused smile.

Rising to his full height, he steps away from the well that adorns the corner of the Abandoned House, and proceeds to make his way back to the main gates to await his chosen sibling's return. He could already imagine what would surely transpire in the instant that Erinil would stumble upon them through the supposed Black Door and proceed to explain in grand detail everything that had taken place once they vanished into the shadows of the home.

Korbin perfectly mirroring the boy's excitement with a fragment of his very own – scooping him up into his arms, as he was accustomed to often doing whenever he was overjoyed – spinning him around, and possibly even granting to him a personalized title to show that he would be a part of their Dark Family from then on, all the while Lucien became utterly enraged over the fact that the boy was going to be 'stuck' with them for far longer than he first assumed.

Oh, how he wishes he could see such a thing. That he could walk into the Abandoned House just as easily as Erinil had and be just as welcomed with open arms as his brothers were so accustomed to being greeted upon return. To not only see Korbin's innocence over everything that happened since they left the Imperial City, as well as the countless new grey hairs Lucien would surely spout over the same exact thing. But those types of thoughts, those rather whimsical desires which dared to linger within his mind when he was left alone to himself... they were nothing more than sheer foolishness born from exceedingly complicated feelings that he so dearly wished he could free himself from.

After all, he did not belong in such places, nor would there ever truly come a time in which he would. He knew it easily, almost too easily, and yet... still he questioned why he continued to mull over the very same questions that regularly brought forth a familiar rush of pain to his chest whenever he did. Why he wished that he could follow the boy inside without second guessing himself, come and stand at his brother's sides without feeling as though he was entirely out of place, and finally, at last, know that he was indeed welcome in their world.

As though he was always meant to be beside them, despite what he may have felt for their profession, or way of life. And while there was surely some hint of kinship among them, among him and Korbin... he knew it was so much more than lacking when it came to himself and Lachance. The connection between them hardly existed, if it even existed at all. He could see it in Lucien’s eyes, in the way that he openly mocked him, the way he spoke of how he was a Priest of Akatosh, and reminded him – whenever he possibly could – that he was far too much of a good, kindhearted man.

It did not matter what his thoughts may have been, or what he felt towards the one that stood in his shadow. In the end, he knew that he did not truly fit, and perhaps – at least as far as Lucien was concerned – never actually would. Thus, it was far better to cast aside such thoughts, before they were about to cause further heart—

"...Martin? Are you still out here?" A voice then calls from over his shoulder, and Martin stills his step – as well as his thoughts. A look of confusion flashes in his eyes, as well as the faintest of hope that begins to warm over his chest in place of the pain, and he instantly turns around to address whom it was that had called his name. When he sees that it is actually Korbin, he plasters on an almost genuine smile, and struggles to bury the remainder of his nonsensical feelings over prior thoughts.

"...Yes, Korbin?" He asks; hoping his emotional tells were not obvious to his brother's gaze. "Is something the matter?"

Korbin chuckles, and leans further out of the opened door of the Abandoned House. "Well yes! Something is indeed the matter, brother!" He cries, and then points a finger at Martin. "And it's all because of the fact that you're still out here, when you shouldn't be!"

Martin raises an eyebrow in response; confusion quickly overtaking him, and then nearly tripling at Korbin's words.

"...Why do you look so confused?" Korbin questions, and then runs an awkward hand over the back of his neck. "Oh... right, I didn't actually phrase that correctly, did I? It came out more of a joke, than an actual explanation. Well, uh, all right...it's like this, okay?" He says, and then leans partially against the door as he does his best to help Martin understand. "Erinil came sprinting inside, shouting happily over one thing, then another, and then another... and then you didn't come in behind him, which made Lachance and myself begin to get rather concerned. So concerned, in fact, that Lucien basically shoved me out of the Black Door, and demanded I come and see what was taking you so long, and why you didn't follow Erinil in!"

Martin’s eyes widen. "W-Wait... wait, what...?" He stammers at the height of his confusion. Lowering his head head, he attempts to make sense of what he is hearing, and yet finds no such answer to every new question that swims far too freely within his own mind. "Are you saying that you... that you want me to come inside with you all?"

"Yeah, of course we do, Martin!" Korbin exclaims cheerfully. "Erinil is going to be introduced to the rest of the family tonight, so they might bestow to him the proper title of house-and-well-guardsman, and probably get embraced all the way to the Void itself by the kid in the process, so we thought... well, this would be a great opportunity to introduce you to the other members of the family as well!" He shrugs his shoulders, all the while gesturing with his hands. "After all, we've had such an incredible journey from the Imperial City, to Bravil, and then to here, and so on, and so on... so, Lucien suggested that we should probably stay here for a few days to replenish ourselves in rest, food, and supplies before we get back on the road towards Chorrol. I mean, when you think about it, it only makes sense, right?"

Martin continues standing perfectly in place in the middle of the cobblestone road. Showing no outward signs that he had actually heard anything Korbin had said to him after he asked his quite bizarre question over whether or not they truly wished for him to come inside the house with them after all. He stares, unblinking down at his feet as his vision blurs, and he fights the urge to look up and accuse his younger brother for daring to play with his – already incredibly fragile – emotions in such a way. But he knows that Korbin would never do that. He would never do anything to intentionally harm him, especially not something like this, and to know that it was Lucien, of all people, that sent him out here, sent him to find him...

In the end, he simply continues to stand there, still as a statue, and soon Korbin grows tired of the uncomfortable silence.

"Uh, Martin? Dear Brother? Are you... are you all right?" Korbin asks; eyes filling with concern. "You're being incredibly quiet, and for you that's... well, that's a very strange sight. Unless, of course, I'm beginning to rub off on you, and it won't be long until you take the title of Silencer from me! But then I would have to tackle you down to the ground, and—" He then huffs, realizing that his rambling was not working as it should, and places both hands upon his hips. "Honestly now, Martin! Are you intentionally not listening to me, or what!?"

Martin snaps back to attention upon hearing Korbin's sudden shouting. "Wh-What?! I... I, uh... I'm—" He clears his throat, and smiles; unable to keep the emotion out of his voice. "F-For...Forgive me, Korbin, I was... preoccupied for a moment. What were you saying?"

"I was saying that you were being too quiet," Korbin blows the bangs from his forehead as he exhales a flustered breath. "But, if you're actually listening to me now, then you should probably know that Lucien is waiting impatiently for you inside."

"He... he is? For... me? Are you quite certain about this, Korbin?" Martin asks as his confusion returns and seeks to overwhelm him once again. "Because while I do not doubt your words by any means, I am unsure as to why he would wish to wait for my presence, exactly..."

The sight of Martin’s stammering causes Korbin to begin chuckling. "Yes, of course I'm certain, Martin!" He tells him, waving a dismissive hand as he attempts to find his composure amid his growing laughter. "And well, it’s not as though I actually got a straight answer – since he is, of course, Lucien through and through – but considering he all but shoved me out here to find you, and he's oddly eager to show you the Black Door for some strange reason... most likely to give you more nightmares as he did during that first camping trip of ours? I really don't think it's all that wise to keep him waiting much longer."

Stilling himself, he turns back towards Martin, and holds out the same hand with a large smile. "So, are you coming, brother?"

Martin pauses once more, looking down at the hand Korbin extends to him in a show of kindness, and slowly comes to the realization – at long last – what it was his dear brother was telling him not only through his playful, yet heartfelt words, but through his oh-so innocent actions just as well, and he simply cannot keep the smile from his lips when he does. What a fool he had been. What an absolute fool. Perhaps he entangled within the suffocating web of overthinking, perhaps his thoughts were merely blinding him from the obvious, undeniable truth, perhaps... he was simply worried for nothing.

And now he was being offered a chance to be accepted, even for a single evening, and he quickly takes it in his grip. If Korbin finally notices his overwhelming emotions that stumble awkwardly in his expression, if Korbin sees that something is considerably different, that something had surely changed since the last time they spoke... he was all too thankful that Korbin chose to remain respectfully silent on the subject, and did not desire bringing such questions to the surface to pull apart the reasoning in much greater detail.

Intertwining their fingers together, he looks up at Korbin, and a gentle light shines anew in his eyes as he matches Korbin’s playful smile with one of his own in turn.

"I'm right behind you, brother," He says, and the title sounds so sweet upon his lips for the second time since they first met in Kvatch. "Lead the way to this Black Door, so that I might finally know just what it is that makes it so incredibly special."

"Of course! I’m very happy to do so, Martin! Follow me!"

And as the soothing comforts of night comes to blanket the city of Cheydinhal in an all too familiar darkness at long last, and the gentle nothingness of sweet silence comes to sing it's haunting melody against the winds, and dance over the cobblestone paths to an unknowing audience, two brothers of choice – one of darkness, and one of light – slowly walk into the depths of shadow's tender embrace hand held tightly within hand.

#hero of kvatch #martin septim #lucien lachance #adoring fan #tes oblivion #The Knight The Emperor And The Assassin~#My Fan Fiction~

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mysaldate · 5 years

Text

But can y’all imagine...

How very different KnY would be if told from another character’s perspective? Take literally any demon and suddenly the Demon Slayer Corps are painted in whole different light! In other words, I’m really bitter about the fandom and its hatred against the demons in general or just a few specific characters.

(long post, manga spoilers ahead)

With Muzan, it’s a story of a weak boy who just wanted to have a stronger body and then this shady doctor made him incapable of walking in the sun and forced him to eat human flesh? Like?? That fucks you up man. And then he learns how much of a curse immortality is and starts yearning for companions so he starts making them. His own family had forsaken him for something that initially wasn’t even his fault and now they started hunting down his fellow immortals. And what’s more, they act like they’re in the right!

Let’s take the hand demon from the final selection now, shall we? A little scaredy boy who got turned into a demon and ended up killing his brother without even fully realizing what he had done. Soon after, he was captured by this weird man in a mask and thrown in what is essentially a gladiator arena with dozens of people swarming in to kill him every once in a while. He fights his way through, eventually getting stronger and stronger. Eventually, he falls victim to one of the pupils of the man who captured him.

We’re just making a quick stop at Kyougai here before moving on to the moons. And boy did he deserve better! Kyougai has lived his whole life constantly being told what he was bad at. His writings is called trash, his passion for drumming is looked down upon, he has nobody to love him... There’s a lot more to him than just a frustrated bad guy. He cries when, for the first time in his life, someone gives mild appreciation to something he does. Sadly enough, that only happens on his deathbed.

Rui’s backstory was partially shown but imagine if he were the main focus! A boy so weak he could barely walk, suddenly offered the chance to become stronger. And much like in Muzan’s case, it backfired. This was even more enforced by the fact that his own parents tried to kill him! Then he met with the guy who turned him into this thing in the first place and slowly, he forgot all about his family. Loneliness grasping his childish heart, he eventually starts gathering other demons to create a family to feel those bonds again. He has no idea how families should work so he does it in the only way he can think of. But nobody else likes this. Imagine the betrayal he feels when one of his sisters tries to run away from him! And then he almost dies by the hands of someone who has what he had always craved without doing anything for it (at least from his pov). And by the very end, when he is finally reunited with his parents, when he finally felt the genuine love again, he got sent straight to hell for doing what he had to to survive, without being shown a speck of mercy by his killer.

We don’t know anything about Enmu’s backstory (movie, I’m counting on you!) but even with the little we know, a lot can be worked out. Enmu is loyal to a fault, overall pretty smart, he likes giving people happy dreams. He really just wants to please his master and yet, he’s not even given the small victory of killing a kid.

Or what about Daki and Gyuutarou? Again, we got their backstory but if that was the main focus? We’d get to see so so much more of the abuse they went through, of the hard work Gyuutarou put in for the sake of his sister, how he tried to protect her and make her stand up for herself, how he made sure she knew her worth and didn’t become a prostitute at a young age, how he cherished her and how much she relied on him. When she was getting burnt, did she call out his name hoping he would come and save her? Did she apologize for dying on him? Or Gyuutarou, how did he feel when he found her there? For how long afterwards had he blamed himself? He never let go of those feelings. And then around came a charming stranger and offered them both to live on, even as a single being so they could be even closer! Daki got a position so she didn’t have to do any degradative work ever again, Gyuutarou could protect her way better! They were attacked times and times again by the demon slayers and there were probably many tense moments and yet, they made it out, growing ever stronger together as a team... only to be eventually bested by a half-baked demon, a bunch of children and a very self-centered guy who took himself three wives.

Then we have Gyokko, an unfortunate artist who was most likely never appreciated, no matter how hard he tried. His art was dismissed as broken, imperfect, lacking in talent. And what’s worse, he may have had those feelings too. He knew he didn’t have very good focus, he probably couldn’t give his work as much work as he would’ve liked. After he obtained the capability of increasing his speed enough to nulify this deficit, he also came face to face with many people, many slayers, many pillars even, some of them who mastered the full-focus breathing technique and used it like it was nothing. How did that make him feel? And eventually he died facing someone who had all the focus he ever wanted, with his art and his own form insulted by a mere child.

Hantengu is not talked about nearly enough but can you imagine how he would tell the story? An almost blind beggar, constantly being pushed around because of his poor looks (something he could hardly change), thrown out of everywhere (kind of his fault since he was a thief but if it was his story, we’d get full reasoning), people refused to even talk with him in the end. Finally, he meets someone who gives him power and lets him be stronger so he doesn’t have to beg for everything. He’s still so very scared of everything though and he ends up doing his scary master’s bidding and gets killed by a bunch of violent screaming kids who insult him in every possible way without ever trying to look at things from his side.

Now we come to Akaza. Now here we got a lot of backstory so I’ll just skim over it real quick. In order to help his sick father, this good son stole money for the medicine and constantly got beaten up by the officials, simply because he wanted to help. His father died because he thought he was being a burden. Or, from Akaza’s point of view, his father died because he was too weak not to get caught. Can you imagine the shame? The pain? He eventually got taken in by a kind master, fell in love with a sweet girl and was supposed to marry her. And then his whole world suddenly crumbled down again. Everyone he cared about died and he couldn’t help them. Can you imagine how much he beat himself up over it? He became a demon but even after that, he would never eat girls. He just wouldn’t, it was too much for him. And yet, he managed to grow stronger. His end actually wasn’t all that tragic as he met up again with his wife, though both of them ended up burning in hell yet again.

Now we’re getting to Douma, and this one I’ll have lots of fun with. So this story is again about a little boy. This time, he’s not weak. This time, he’s not petty. He’s beautiful and everyone loves him. A lot. Too much even. He has no relationship with his parents because they don’t treat him like a human, they treat him like a medium. Everyone does. He can’t go outside to play with his peers, he’s stuck inside the temple, listening to people complaining about their miserable lives. That’s literally his entire life. Just frustration upon frustration upon frustration. Slowly, he starts going numb towards all of this. When something repeats for too long, a person will stop reacting naturally. That leads him to believe he’s emotionless. His father cheats on his mother constantly with other women from the cult, the bitterness grows with every day. Until one day, she snaps and kills him and then herself. But because Douma has no relationship with them and because of how much pain was already pushed onto him from others, he doesn’t have a reaction. He knows he can’t really help anyone. He doesn’t have that kind of power. So when the opportunity offers itself, he jumps after it. Since he’s numb to pain, he thinks, he is always happy. And he’s immortal now. So everyone he consumes can be just the same for sure! Later on, he meets Gyuutarou, a pitiful man clinging to his dying sister. And what does he do? He helps them out. And he takes responsibility for them later on as well. He strives to become strong, he strives to get along with everyone. Just the sheer amount of times he tries to spend time with someone only to be shut down shows a lot about how lonely he actually feels, even if he doesn’t call it that way. When Kotoha comes to the temple, he accepts her even with a child and if there’s one thing you can clearly see in his expression whenever he looks at her, it’s the warm, soft feeling of genuine affection, if not down-right love. Her refusing to let him explain why he does what he does and running off after insulting him? That had to hurt terribly. And she even threw her own baby off a cliff rather than to let him take care of the boy. The demon hunters coming to kill him? They want to ruin everything he tried so hard to keep together. He kills them and grants them the happiness he brings to his followers whenever he has enough time to do it. He dies at the hands of a spiteful woman who doesn’t know anything about him and is blinded by hatred and rage, a little girl who insults his feelings towards his friends while not really having any right to speak (her own emotions are way more broken than his and, arguably, for pettier reasons) and the child who’s mother he sheltered and who threw him aside.

That was long but we finally got to Kokushibou! Now, here it gets shorter again because, come on, chapter 177 gave us such a good POV on him! Though if the whole story was from his perspective, we’d deffinitelly get so much more! The utter sense of betrayal when his father after years of his hard work decided to abandon him as an heir, the overwhelming desire to at least match his brother, to at least be on equal grounds with him and then the crushing defeat when he realized he could never be like him, his lifespawn was running thin and his brother would probably surpass him even in that. He became a demon for the sole purpose of besting his brother and yet, he was never able to. As an unfulfilled revenge, his brother died before Kokushibou could strike him down. And now fast-forward some time and he’s stuck babysitting supposedly some of the strongest demons except they constantly bicker about petty things, can’t respect authority or in some cases get scared so easily he has to wonder how did they get there in the first place. His own descendant tries to kill him and refuses his offer to join Muzan’s side. And he dies because of a moment of weakness, bested once again, never to live to see the day when he would truly be the most powerful swordsman like was his life-long dream.

Or let’s take a look at Kaigaku. Working his ass off his whole life only to be constantly compared to a weak coward like Zenitsu who couldn’t even show their elder any proper respect. He couldn’t manage to master the first breath of thunder technique no matter how hard he tried and that alone was the reason why his teacher didn’t see him as any better than Zenitsu – someone who never learnt more than one technique! He was finally somewhat appreciated by Kokushibou. That was literally the first person ever to see him as a strong opponent. A demon who originally came to kill him. And he died by the hands of that very same weakling who was the cause of his troubles his whole life.

I could go on and talk about Tamayo, Yushiro, Susamaru, Yahaba, the swamp demon trio, Nakime... I’ll save these for when Nakime’s backstory is revealed and possibly when we get more details on Tamayo and Yushiro. There should also be the replacement upper moon five so let’s wait for that guy.

Side note: I’m purposedly emitting Nezuko since 1) she’s not a standard demon in the series and 2) she’s one of the main protagonists so we already see the story from her perspective about as much as we see it from Tanjiro’s.

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yinyangswings · 4 years

Text

Astoria: Fate’s Kiss and Love & Legends AU

Thought this would be an interesting idea if the two stories were connected somehow.

There is more under the Read More sign.

General

MC and Astoria Fate’s kiss (AFK) MC are canonically the same age. Depending on the situation, they have met prior.

MC wanted to see what other cities were like, so left New York. She still visits New York when she can, but prefers Chicago

MC family members can sense her aura so they aren’t worried that she’s not in the same city. That changes when all of a sudden her aura is gone from Chicago.

The WQ’s soul fragment changed how they look, hence why MC looks the way she does in comparison to some of her family members. Some of them don’t worry about it as much.

They are all really surprised, but delighted when finding out that those in the Fantasy Realm have never heard of the Greek Gods/Monsters.

August Falke

MC is the baby sister to Cerberus, Nemean, and Orthus.

Her mother had extreme animosity towards her due to her being a woman. If she was ever the one in trouble, even Cerberus couldn’t sway their mother.

She is close to Hades like her brothers are.

Her aura is a phoenix and contained in a red feathered earring that she wears. While her aura protects her, it will burn up and take her awhile to restore it if she uses it too long. In dire circumstances she becomes the phoenix and is literally on fire, though thankfully she’s not harmed by it. She also looks like she’s on fire when using the aura

August is not amused when this happens.

Due to her mother, when she meets Asta she becomes a lot quieter than normal, much to August’s confusion. Asta kind of figures it out when MC flinches involuntarily while helping Asta out.

Asta is a lot gentler to her and when he mentions how strange she’s being, informs August that while she might be strong, MC has vulnerabilities just like every human, and some vulnerabilities are far more damaging even after years of healing.

Even when she moves to Chicago, they still are close and regularly call each other. When she is sent to the fantasy land, she worries over them, because they can’t visit her all at once and she knows they’re bound to notice when she doesn’t call them.

And they do, and they worry. A lot.

She is very frazzled when she enters the Fantasy Realm, because she can’t sense her brothers and just knows she’s not in the same place as them.

She talks about her brothers but doesn’t talk about her mother, actively refuses to talk about her.

Returning to Chicago puts MC in shock and she just wanders back to her apartment. She no sooner opens it than she’s pulled into a hug by a very worried Cerberus, who after not hearing from her for a week, and Sophie saying MC hadn’t been seen, had gotten AFK MC to go with him to Chicago to look for her. He’s incredibly confused as to why his sister is dressed in medieval armor. They’re GREEK myths.

She essentially breaks down into a sobbing mess in his arms because she doesn’t know what’s happened to August and she doesn’t know how to get back. And everything is just so stressful and too much.

When she finally calms down, she explains everything to Cerberus, AFK MC, and Sophie. Sophie reveals who she is, backing up MC.

Cerberus is really reluctant at first, because...this is his baby sister. He hasn’t even met this...August Falke, and his baby sister is in love with the guy?? AFK MC smooths it over with him and he dives headfirst into looking for solutions so she can get back.

He gives her the biggest hug when she leaves.

MC’s aura helps lessen the pain of the curse, but only just.

They are all really surprised when she returns with August and are overjoyed to see her, creating a literal dogpile.

They are less pleased when they find out about the curse.

Initially they are all for making her stay, but when she makes it very, very clear she’s not leaving August, they decide to help them try and find a way to break the curse.

They all pretty much interrogate August while they’re looking for the Aisetha, making sure that this man would be good enough for their baby sister. August is a bit intimidated, but nonetheless they manage to like him and gain their approval.

They more or less welcome him to the ‘pack’. They made August promise to look after her, which wasn’t a difficult promise for him to agree to.

MC gets a surprise at the wedding when a portal appears and her brothers, as well as AFK’s MC arrive. Cerberus says it was all because of Hades and they wouldn’t be good big brothers if they missed her wedding would they?

They don’t tell her how they know she’s getting married, and she’s too happy to ask.

Talking about children is entertaining, and he asks if their children might be able to get auras. She says it’s possible, but only time would tell.

Saerys

MC is the youngest sister to Medusa. She never got involved in the gangs like her sisters did. She helped Medusa get back on her feet after Perseus took her aura.

When she meets the AFK MC, she immediately likes her. Plus AFK MC bakes some awesome sweets.

Her aura is a jellyfish and is contained within a necklace.

Like her sisters, she can freeze people to stone. Unlike her sisters, it causes strain to her eyes.

She doesn’t tell anyone what she is or what she’s capable of due to the fact that they already are nervous about her. She doesn’t need to give them legit reason to be frightened of her.

MC actually thinks that when the villagers are calling Saerys a monster, they’re referring to her for other reasons. She’s been called that before.

When she tells him that she’s been called a monster, he doesn’t understand who could see her as a monster.

When she reveals her aura to the others when Saerys goes turbo mode for the first time they understand why she kept her abilities a secret.

She nearly kills Lennox with her ability, but a soldier gets in the way. They retreat at that point and MC is pretty disoriented because of it.

She does tell them she won’t use the ability unless it’s a final resort. Saerys is perfectly alright with that, granted he’s more concerned about her hurting herself than freezing people to stone.

When she ‘dies’ and Saerys gives her a part of his soul her aura vanishes. It feels strange and she wonders how Medusa managed to do this when she lost hers by herself.

Saerys and her bond over being the only one of their kind in the Fantasy Realm. Even back in Chicago, MC is considered the only ‘gorgon’ in that city.

Speaking of returning to Chicago. When she gets back, she gets pretty much tackled by Medusa, who feared that someone, either their other sisters, their mother, or just some enemy from the past had attacked her as retaliation. Heck, she thought Perseus had been involved for a little while.

That apparently was a very...loud argument at H.E.R.A that everyone in the building heard.

Medusa is not pleased when her sister comes back with a strange man in tow. Even more when she senses that her sister's aura is no longer...there.

Finding out she died and Saerys saved her by implanting a part of his soul in her has two reactions. Her desire to maim/murder WQ rising and then hugging the crap out of Saerys, who is pretty sure she broke several of his ribs.

When Saerys regains his ability to go into turbo mode, she regains her connection to her aura.

The demon souls actually really like her and her monsterous abilities. Saerys nor MC are thrilled by this declaration by the souls.

MC is nervous because she doesn’t know what future children would be like. Saerys is quick to tell them they would be lovely, no matter what.

Altea Bellerose

MC is the daughter of Hades. No one knows who her mother was other than Hades.

While he’s a workaholic he does care for her. She helps him out along with her cousin Persephone to at least try and get him away from work, with little success.

Her aura appears as a screech owl. She has it hidden in a ring.

Hades is alerted almost immediately that MC is missing. He looks around Chicago with AFK MC, then asks Cerberus and his brothers if she has gone through the gates. He then, very reluctantly, looks at the roster of newly deceased individuals in case he missed MC’s name. Thankfully she doesn’t appear on it.

The relief is short lived, because that means he doesn’t know where she is.

She actually reveals her aura early on when Helena tries to attack Altea. It’s...very startling to say the least, and she has a lot of explaining to do.

She keeps her parentage very, very vague. She’s pretty sure that saying ‘hey I’m the daughter of the God of the Underworld’ won’t go over well.

This does lead to an argument down the road when MC finds out about Altea’s parentage.

‘You didn’t tell me about your family either!’ ‘My father is the God of the Underworld, Altea! Because that wouldn’t scream wannabe goth in any shape or manner and wouldn’t have made you all think I’ve lost my marbles!’

MC getting back to Chicago with Altea is entertaining because Hades, Persephone, and AFK MC are there and Altea proceeds to see MC getting lectured for vanishing and all of them asking where she went and what happened.

Altea low-key gets a crush on Persephone. MC is not surprised.

They meet Altea. It’s...intimidating for the wizard. Especially meeting Hades. MC is a little worried, but thankfully Hades likes Altea.

Altea’s parents are...overjoyed? They learn their daughter is in love with the child of a god. MC is amused, while Altea is annoyed. Lional is so excited when she reveals her aura.

Hades does eventually tell MC her history and family line. Altea is right there with her and letting her process the information.

Hades as well as AFK MC come for the wedding. MC has to keep her laughter down because Hades looks so out of place.

Her dress is a little more greek looking than her canon dress.

Reiner Wolfson

MC is the daughter Aphrodite, and the baby half-sister to Alex and Eros.

She became fast friends with the AFK’s MC when they met as they are the same age.

MC’s aura appears as wolves and she it’s contained in a necklace.

Yes Alex teases her when they find out her lover’s last name is Wolfson, and yes she realizes the irony.

Initially Alex thought they were losing it, or they’re tired from overworking when MC’s aura just vanishes from their radar. That all changes when Aphrodite comes down from Olympus absolutely frantic as she can’t sense it either.

AFK MC and Alex head over to Chicago, trying to find clues about where she went to no avail.

Meanwhile MC is struggling to keep the fact she’s a demigod a secret. She figures that it won’t go well for her to show she’s a demigoddess when everyone thinks she’s someone called the Witch Queen.

She reveals who or rather what she is when Reiner comes to rescue her and she summons her aura to protect Reiner from Magnus.

She explains who she is and what her life is like as a demigoddess.

She muses that Reiner’s family story is similar to a Greek tragedy, and regrets the thought when Aldric returns.

She’s actually more open to marrying. She’s the daughter of Aphrodite so it’s really not that much of a surprise.

Her aura fights within her when she and WQ are struggling for control. It’s painful and draining and the first night she scratches her arms raw.

Reiner is not a happy man when he sees that and it makes him worry for her even more.

When the WQ is partially possessing her, she gives Reiner the necklace that houses the aura. While it won’t activate for him, she’s sure it will remain safe with him and will protect him in some way.

She doesn’t realize how much that is true until they’re both sent to Chicago and she can sense half of the aura gone

When she returns to Chicago, she barely manages to get into her apartment before she’s pulled in with a big hug and starts being scolded by Alex.

And she just breaks down, much to their confusion.

She explains what happened and where she had been. That she needs to find Reiner because he’s somewhere in this world and the realm she had been in needs him. And she needs him too.

At first Alex is a little reluctant to believe her, but she points out that they’re the children of a goddess, the idea of a different realm should not be that much of a stretch. They can’t really find an argument to that.

Finally Alex agrees and along with AFK MC they begin to search for him.

Thankfully Alex likes Reiner when they meet him. They can tell he’s a good man.

Getting married in Las Vegas is...interesting. She’s sure her mother probably wouldn’t approve, but they really don’t have time for a full blown Greek wedding.

Along with Sophie, Alex and AFK MC are there as witnesses

Just seconds after they’re married and the spell is broken, in comes Aphrodite. And oh boy, is MC in trouble.

“What do you mean you’re married?!?” “Um...I’m just following your ideals on love?” “AND I WASN’T INVITED!?!’

Reiner may or may not fear for his life as the Goddess of Love stares up at him, taking in her new son-in-law. She may be shorter than him, but that doesn’t stop the panic at the possible smiting he might have incurred. Thankfully she smiles after a moment and welcomes him into the family.

Being a demigoddess did prepare her to be cordial and dealing with the council and nobles. She may not like it, but it still works in her favor.

The nobles try once, ONCE, to say MC isn’t worthy to be married to Reiner. Then Aphrodite appears looking very godly, very angry and very displeased about them calling her daughter a commoner

The nobles shit their collective pants and MC just wants to sink into the ground. Reiner finds it hilarious.

MC is low-key terrified about when she has a kid what her family is going to be like and senses that there will be many impromptu visits from them.

Iseul Idreis

MC is the baby sister to Chimera and Eagle.

Her aura appears as a lion and eagle, representing the Mesopotomian monster Anzû. It’s kept in an armlet.

Both of her brothers tease her about the fact that she has an aura that’s almost a part of each of their own. While she acts annoyed, she actually loves the fact her aura parts somewhat represent her brothers.

They are particularly protective of her and did not want her moving to Chicago, but she’s as stubborn as they are.

She initially played middleman between Chimera and Eagle in conversation, even after she moved to Chicago. After the events in Season One of Chimera’s route, she doesn’t have to play middleman and just enjoys chatting to the two of them.

They usually keep in contact with her and she does visit from time to time, getting to know AFK MC.

‘Seriously, he’s an idiot. A cute idiot, but an idiot. How did he snag you??’ ‘Hey!!’

It becomes worrying for both men when they don’t hear from her for a little while and they head to Chicago to find out what is going on. Cue them finding out she hasn’t been seen in over a week.

Meanwhile she’s having to contend with hiding what she is...well...a monster to the Fantasy Realm and keeping her aura hidden.

It is discovered that the WQ had been in contact with Typhon and that is how MC was created. Typhon then implanted memories in Chimera and Eagle about her.

It does make her hesitant to reach out to them initially, worried they’ll not see her as family.

Imagine her surprise when they literally barge into her apartment and then surprise hug her, both yelling at her, asking where she’s been and if she’s okay, as well as just saying how relieved that she’s back.

She finds out that Typhon told Chimera and Eagle when they went to him to see if he had done something to her. They still consider her their sister, even if she’s only actually been ‘alive’ for a few years.

MC introducing them to Iseul is hilarious. Eagle goes ‘older brother’ on him, making sure Iseul is good enough for his sister. Chimera is trying to not crack up laughing while still trying to be intimidating.

Magnus is very much afraid of them, as he should be. He vaguely questions his Queen’s mindset when choosing Typhon to look after her vessel.

They aren’t exactly pleased with MC going back, but feel like she should finish what’s been started.

However, they’re...very much surprised when MC comes back and ‘surprise you’re both going to be uncles’. Eagle looks like he’s aged a decade and Chimera doesn’t want to think about the fact that his sister did...that.

“Chimera, we started having sex way before-” “LALALALALALALA! CAN’T HEAR YOU!!”

They wind up being protective of her during the pregnancy, even deciding to come along when MC returns to the Fantasy Realm with AFK MC. That has both its advantages and disadvantages.

Guess who is panicking along with Isuel when MC is kidnapped? Nothing says fun like two monsters arguing on how the best way to get their sister is. MC saving herself and then giving them grief over it is a very humorous sight.

Both of them compete on who is the best uncle for Iris. Thankfully Iseul doesn’t have any brothers so there isn’t a worry in that department on the Idreis side.

Helena Klein

MC was the daughter of Zeus, but was cast away from Olympus.

Hercules took her aura when she was cast out and she’s bitter about it. She moves to Chicago to get away from Olympus, H.E.R.A., and everything else. She does not talk to any of her family members.

She happens to be visiting New York when she hears about Astraeus and the Titans fighting against the Gods, and goes further into hiding so her family can’t try to contact her for help. They didn’t help her, why should she help them?

She meets Astraeus, and surprises him by not intervening in his quest. AFK MC talks to her and they strike up a friendship but MC keeps to herself.

Being sent to the Fantasy Realm is almost a blessing, even if she is confused as to why she’s here.

She thinks for a very brief moment, this is something due to her father and is really, really ticked off.

She’s really protective of Helena, especially when she discovers all the pain Helena had gone through.

They’re relationship is a bit of a slower burn, as MC is still worried about her family and Helena doesn’t know what to make of her.

Both of them bond over being casted out from their homes for things that they had little control over. For MC it makes her fall for Helena even more because she understands her.

She tries to not be controlling, as she doesn’t want to be like her father. It throws Helena for a loop.

When she tells Helena about her family, Helena is at first stunned, but then very angry that she’s been subjected to that. And by a god no less.

She swears that MC’s family will not get close to her.

When they return to Chicago and Helena has no memories, she’s at a loss, because she would have usually gone to the gods for help, but isn’t about to do that, even if she can.

When Helena remembers, MC is so relieved because she was getting close to trying and contacting the gods if any still remain.

When they return to Chicago for the final time, MC says that eventually they’ll go to New York to visit, but only after everything quiets down there. They’re happy to remain in Chicago.

Alain Richter

MC is the baby sister of Hydra

Her aura is Cerastes and is hidden in an anklet.

Hydra is pretty cold towards her initially, making her think he didn’t like her. It’s later revealed that his attitude to her stems from his need to protect her so she wouldn’t be used against him by Hercules or the other gods.

While it kills him, he lets her go to Chicago, thinking she’s safer there.

MC is quite stunned for Hydra to be at her doorstep in the events of Season 2 of Astoria: Lost Kisses. Just as much as the fact that Hydra has a girlfriend.

To be fair AFK MC is just as surprised to see MC as well as Hydra kept his baby sister a secret.

After the events in that Season, they reconcile and keep in contact. When she suddenly just drops off the face of the earth, Hydra notices and becomes concerned and goes to investigate.

Meanwhile MC is attempting to keep the fact that she’s a monster a secret from everyone, especially Alain. While she realizes that she is indeed the past WQ before she went evil, she also realizes that becoming Cerastes has changed her.

She unleashes an icy version of the snake when her ice powers come to surface. She then very reluctantly tells Alain who...or rather what she is considered in Chicago. She also show Alain what the Cerastes aura looks like originally

Alain is stunned, but states that it doesn’t change his feelings for her.

The snake protects both of them when WQ returns and aids in freeing them.

She nearly passes out when she uses it too much when they are fighting with Reiner and the retainers.

As she relieves the memories of her and Alain’s past, a part of her wonders if she would have become like the WQ had she and Hydra never reconciled and the feeling of loneliness continued.

While the WQ is able to use the ice-serpent shape, she is unable to use the Cerastes aura in its entirety, and that’s what aids MC for revealing that the WQ was impersonating her.

Returning to Chicago is...stressful. When Alain breaks up with her, she just wanders around. She barely gets down a block before Hydra finds her and is frantically checking her, his aura checking on hers. She’s dazed but then breaks down, which does not help with Hydra’s panic.

He doesn’t believe her at first when she explains what happened and where she’s been, because even for a Greek monster, that seems far-fetched.

Eventually though she convinces him she’s not making this up, especially when she shows him the armor, and he can tell that that’s not of Earth or even Godly origin.

Initially Hydra thinks that Alain is attempting to kidnap her when they get back together. He attacks Alain and it’s only her summoning her aura that makes him stop.

He does not like Alain any more either when he finds out that Alain is MC’s lover.

Because this bastard touched his sister.

MC has to go back to defeat the WQ, and Hydra is not thrilled by this. He kept her away from him so she wasn’t involved in fighting, and now she’s been thrown into a fight.

AFK MC manages to convince him to let her go.

MC promises to visit him, and she finds a way to do so.

The whole Umbra thing is such a quest and she’s so annoyed with it, even if she does realize she needs to complete it so both worlds and all realities are safe.

She manages to make a portal so she can visit her brother. Hydra still hates Alain, but he’ll humor him or her sake.

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missjosie27 · 4 years

Text

The Other World- Part 1

Ladies and gentleman, I’d like to say my customary few words before you read this fic. As most in the HM community know on here, there are many who have drawn or written out our characters for this extremely flawed game that we’ve come to love one way or the other. One of the best and most thought out is the one created by @hogwartsmysterystory better known as Ethren Whitecross. I think we can all agree how incredible his writing is and how it’s inspired many people, including myself. This is my own way of saying thank you and to pay homage to his MC.

The following story is split into two parts, since the whole story is too long to release all at once. It is my tribute to him and his writing and I hope you all enjoy reading it. Part 2 will be released tomorrow.

If anyone needs background on my MC, please visit my tumblr page and MC info. I realize not everyone will get the context right away.

Enjoy!

A ringing in David Grant’s ears echoed as though it were the loudest noise on the planet. It was also hardly the only commotion going on at the moment. Within the confines of the Ministry, the scene could be described as quite chaotic.

It’s to be expected. Especially given that You Know Who has been dead for less than forty eight hours.

Standing within the spacious halls of the atrium, the once precocious curse breaker of Hogwarts was a much different man from the days of chasing after his long lost brother. Gone was the easy going smirk, the baby faced features of a teenager ready to take on whatever the world had to throw at him. What remained was a tired, unshaved, long haired ex-Auror who had suffered the trials of war, intrigue and then some. The once warm hazel-blue eyes were dulled to a flint like cynicism unrivaled even by the hardiest of warriors.

With the exception of Harry Potter (the stories were certainly true about his exploits), the law enforcement of Magical Britain had suffered more than most. Some had kept up the charade of the blue robes by staying in the Ministry after Voldemort’s takeover, others were placed under the imperious curse (poor Dawlish), while others yet defected and joined the resistance. But to David, that mattered not. The end of the battle of Hogwarts only brought a simple question to his mind.

Where was his wife?

Memories of the battle against her parents flashed in his mind once more- the sickening crunch of Matthias Snyde’s neck breaking, the unhinged screams of his wife, Lyra, who ordered her daughter to kill him. The battle for the soul of Merula Snyde. It had taken every once of his willpower to break through to her and he was certain she had been placed under the imperius curse herself. No one could control his wife, not unless they were prepared to do so by using the Dark Arts. However, that did not change the fact that she still carried the Dark Mark on her forearm and that in turn marked her as a Death Eater and a traitor.

Funny how fast things can change in the span of two days, he thought humorlessly.

There was no joy in his heart, no consolation to be had. He had stepped into the halls of this Merlin forsaken place for a single purpose and would not leave without knowing that Merula would not spend an eternity in Azkaban for crimes she was not culpable for. Consequences be damned, he would spend an eternity in there with her if he had to.

He needed to see someone with the authority to release her. Someone close to the newly appointed Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, his mentor and friend. Surely, he would listen.

Finally, amongst the crowd of hectic witches and wizards, he spotted a familiar face, Williamson, one of the few Aurors that had actually been clever enough to escape the Ministry and resist the dark regime before it happened. He was also a protégé of Kingsley and was probably in a position to speak to him given the circumstances, even if they were not the closest of blokes in the past.

He grabbed the shorter man by the shoulder as he hurried by.

“Williamson.”

“Grant?” the dirty blond haired Auror exclaimed. “Is that really you?”

“No, it’s the Archbishop of Canterbury. Of course, it’s me.”

Williamson shook his head.

“Still haven’t lost that infamous sarcasm, have you Grant? It used to be a lot funnier.”

David’s patience, already on thin ice, showed signs of cracking. He had not gone traveled thousands of miles and collected numerous bounties across Europe and the U.S. to bandy words with a lesser Auror.

“You know why I’m here, Williamson. I need to speak to Kingsley.”

The man gave a haughty sigh, though similar to everyone else, he too showed signs of immense fatigue and stress.

“The Minister,” he corrected. “Is not seeing anyone at the current moment as he has quite enough on his plate. Namely, the envoys from France and the United States.”

“He can make time for me. My wife is currently locked up in a cell somewhere in this fucking hellhole and I want assurances she’s not going to be charged with anything.”

Williamson tried to tug himself out of his grip, but David was much stronger and much more seasoned than his counterpart. The former recognized this and attempted to placate him as best he could.

“For God’s sake David, let me go,” he said, shaking his shoulder away. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to your wife. And I don’t think the Minister does either.”

That evasive response got his blood boiling again. Even with Britain and shambles, red tape and bureaucracy still impeded him.

“She’s innocent,” he growled. “She was under the imperius curse and nothing she did was voluntary.”

“We can’t prove that one way or the other. She’s got the mark and is the suspect of several crimes perpetuated against muggle born families.”

David could feel himself going numb, refusing to believe that Merula ever did anything so horrific under her own willpower. It wasn’t possible. Even as young children, when she was at her worst, he never truly believed she was capable of such atrocity.

“You’re wrong….”he managed to choke out. “You’re wrong and I can prove it. I just need to see Kingsley.”

This time it was Williamson’s turn to get serious as he received a hard stare.

“Frankly, you don’t have much to stand on either. Your own conduct in this war is under scrutiny as well. We’ve received word from the American, German, and Russian governments about various undertakings that occurred under your watch. Bounties, assassinations…”

“I did what I had to,” David replied with quiet fury. “You have no right to judge me for anything, Williamson. I’ve suffered through enough, I’ve…” he barely contained the lump in his throat as thoughts of the deceased permeated through his mind, people he’d never talk to or interact with again. People he loved.

“I just want my wife back. Please, she doesn’t deserve to be treated like the rest of those monsters.”

A flicker of sympathy appeared on his colleague’s face, but it was clear from his defeated posture there was nothing he could or was willing to do.

“I’m sorry, Grant. My hands are tied. The dust hasn’t even settled at Hogwarts nor on this new Ministry and you come barging in here demanding a Death Eater be released? Not only can I not guarantee such an action, but the question of your reinstatement among the Auror office remains to be seen as well. I’m sure the Minister will see you when he has sufficient time. Until then, there’s nothing I can do.”

And with that he walked off without another word, leaving David with no prospects or immediate solutions to his problem. He was completely and truly alone.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Quiet. Then again, this place was always quiet.

In the aftermath of his plea falling on deaf ears, David did not heed Williamson or any other Ministry official. Given the chaos surrounding Britain, there was no one to stop him from going into the Department of Mysteries, namely the room of death.

He had only been in here once. And that was in the aftermath of a massive battle between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters over some ancient prophecy that You Know Who had desired for some reason or another (the circumstances surrounding his connection with Harry Potter were still dubious). That basically had been mop up duty and ensuring that Tonks was not too seriously hurt.

A massive lump formed in his throat at the thought of the pink haired witch, one of his best friends and partners in crime. Seeing her body- pale, cold, and fragile body on the stone floor of Hogwarts- was too much to bear. Despite Tulip’s attempts to console him, there was no consolation to be had.

David shut his eyes as silent tears rolled down.

Tonks, Fred, Talbott, Badeea, Ben….they’re all gone. They’re gone and I’ll never be able to see them again.

If there had been a stray rock or pebble, he would have flung it into the archway itself. But there was none to be had. The emptiness was symbolic of room itself, black and devoid of life. Personification of death, the lives robbed by its random cruelty. Because that’s what this was in his mind: simply cruel

Dropping to his knees, he ran his hands through his almost-shoulder length hair, the tears dripping off the stubble of his chin and onto the floor. By now the shock of the battle had well worn off and the only thing remained was the unadulterated, raw pain that marked its end. Hundreds were dead, including numerous friends and coworkers. And now his wife was essentially condemned to live out the rest of her days in prison, victim of a family legacy forced upon her.

It’s my fault, he thought to himself. I couldn’t protect her. I let her fucking manipulative, piece of shit parents get their hands on her and now our entire lives are bloody dead on arrival.

After all the fighting, after all of his efforts to find Merula and end the pestilential war that plagued the U.K. for almost twenty years, he had failed. Even with You Know Who dead, the ideology he perpetuated took a piece of himself and his life with him.

What was the point? What was there left to live for or hold onto? Merula wasn’t dead but she might as well have been- a fantasy of something that wasn’t coming back. Just like Tonks.

Like Ben….

Like Badeea…

Like Talbott….

There is no point, came the internal conclusion.

Suddenly, David felt another presence within the room. At first, he believed it to be some stuck up official who was about to order him to leave (in which case he would have been in for a rude awakening) but he found that the feeling was much different than sensing a person sneaking up behind you. No, this was…supernatural.

The presence was not one entity, rather it felt like multiple. Even more unsettling was that these entities seemed to speaking to him.

David Grant…..David Grant

It was barely more than a whisper, but it was extremely audible, as though the message was specifically designed for his ears only.

David Grant….David Grant

He looked around and realized that this voice, or voices, were coming from the mysterious archway itself. Even more mysterious, he felt drawn to it, despite his own fear.

“Who…who are you?” he said standing up walking towards the archway.

Come….Come….

“Come where? I don’t understand.”

Come see….come see….

At this point, David was so delirious, so filled with grief and emotion he didn’t even consider he might be going mad. Who were these spirits that desired to speak with him? What did they want to show him?

“Tonks?” he asked aloud, swallowing his throat. “Ben? Talbott? Grandpa? Is that you?

He reached his hand toward the shadowy, white substance that moved about within the archway, all rationality forgotten. The knowledge that this door was the veil to a world beyond life, to death itself, did not register.

I can see my friends again. Maybe I can go to a place and be with Merula again and start over. No war, no pain. Just a life worth living, a life better than this…

As the tip of his index finger touched the veil a white, hot flash blinded him as a force more powerful than he had ever experienced tore into the very soul of his being. Time and space seemed to be ripping itself apart and back again as he was plunged into an unknown cosmic channel that seemed to go faster than the speed of light, yet slower than the oldest tortoise. Just as David thought he might go mad from the insanity around him, everything went black.

Then he knew no more.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The scent of daisies and wildflowers wafted in the air, carried by a soft breeze. The air was warm and tender as it was on a summer day in Britain. The chirping of birds signified the season and the promise it offered to all creatures.

Hazel blue eyes fluttered open.

Thinking back to what just occurred, David sat up and saw that he was in a meadow on the edge of a forest of some sort. Tall grasses partially obscured his view, and the ground itself was so soft, he almost wished to remain there. However, curiosity got the better of him.

Standing up, the scene became more familiar. This was no ordinary meadow. It was a place he and someone very dear to him had once visited during a weekend at Hogwarts. A peaceful place that had been the spot of one of the greatest moments of his life.

This is Hogwarts. Or at least the edge of the grounds.

He saw the forest, the same one he once saw Fenrir Greyback emerge from in his first year, its tall trees just as imposing as ever, though less so in daylight. To his north, was the castle itself, its massive presence right where he left it…except it wasn’t. There were no visible signs of damage to the longstanding magical institution, at least none that he could see. It was as if the Giants who had wreaked havoc with their clubs on the towers, never existed in the first place.

Frowning, David turned his gaze downward. Though the day was cloudy, visibility was still strong. The hoops of the Quidditch pitch could be seen even from this distance. Sloping all the way across the hill was Hagrid’s hut, the fire damage to its roof also gone.

“What on earth?” he muttered to himself. This couldn’t be Hogwarts, he was just there. The state of the school was a mess and the physical damage immeasurable. How could it have been gone in the span of one day? Come to think of it, how long had he actually been out for after he touched that veil?

“Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, after all,” he said aloud. “But how in the hell did I get here?”

Whatever the case, he needed to find out what exactly was going on. If a significant amount of time had passed, Merlin only knew what happened since his absence.

But before he did, another marking caught his eye, one that he was unfamiliar with. To the untrained eye, it looked like a piece of dark granite stuck in the middle of the ground, but David knew better. Whatever it was, it warranted a closer look. As Kingsley always told him- “Check every aspect of your surroundings. If something is out of the ordinary, investigate with caution and care.” As David often joked, it was his own version of ‘constant vigilance’ employed by Mad-Eye Moody. Really, it wasn’t a surprise the smooth and capable man became Minister.

Deciding to test apparation this far from the school itself, he discovered that there were no wards and saved himself the walk.

Upon closer inspection, he saw that the gray semi-obelisk was actually a monument. A monument to those who had died in the fighting against Voldemort and his forces during that fateful night. He read the inscription.

Here lies those who willingly gave their lives in the face of the greatest evil our world has yet seen. May their sacrifice never be forgotten, and their memories preserved by the love of family and friends. This monument is a tribute to them and the day of May 2nd, 1998.

David could feel goosebumps rush down his body as he glanced at the names engraved on the stone. There was at a least a hundred, which thinking back to the official dead count was about the number killed in the battle. His heart sank as the casualties remained unchanged, ‘Nymphadora Tonks’, ‘Remus Lupin’, ‘Fred Weasley’, ‘Ben Copper’, and others were all listed. Curiously, however, there were others he didn’t even recognize while some were conspicuously absent. Badeea’s name was not among the dead nor was Talbott Winger. One of the names, a man by the name of ‘Ethren Whitecross’ had the stars and stripes flag next to it, signifying he was American.

“There were no Americans at that battle as far as I know,” David said to himself. “I spent the last two weeks of the war trying to bloody well convince them not to intervene, didn’t I?”

It suddenly occurred to him, that this monument had to have been created after the epic battle and sure enough when he checked the creation date, his guess proved to correct.

“Commemorated September 1st, 1998,” he said. “Paid for by the Board of Governors with the consent of Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.”

David almost had to sit down again and suddenly felt very disoriented.

I’m…I’m in the future, he realized. But how is this possible? Has such a thing ever been confirmed?

Sure, there were stories, but they were usually old wives tales, legends that carried no bearing on reality. Though time turners technically had the ability to send someone back in time, they were all destroyed three years prior and besides, it could only send you to the maximum of thirty-six hours back in time not forward.

There was no question, he needed answers. And the sooner he received them the better. What year was it? Were people wondering where he went? What was the state of the Ministry? Was Kingsley still in charge? Were the Death Eaters given trial or executed? His stomach then dropped a few notches.

Merula

Above all else, the fate of his wife was the most important aspect of this investigation. If something had happened to her without him there to defend her honor…well he didn’t want to think about that just yet.

“She’d come and find me no matter where she was and tear my ear off,” he said with a dry chuckle.

Wasting no more time, David decided to visit the Ministry first. They would surely hold the records and documents about all trials, prisoners, and even the status of current, ex, or retired Aurors. People might be shocked or incredulous to see him barge in randomly, but it was worth a shot.

Making sure he maintained the necessary distance from the wards, David apparated away and in a flash was gone.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Unbeknownst to everyone aside from the Minister and the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, there was a secret entrance to the Auror Office in a random pay phone booth in Manchester. As part of their training and oath, they were not allowed to use it except in cases of extreme emergency such as an attack or during a war. And though David’s situation didn’t qualify under either circumstance, he figured that going missing for God knows how long and not knowing what happened was enough of an excuse. Besides, if Tonks didn’t get caught for sneaking a whole case of beer during training, it was a safe bet no one would give him grief over this either.

Trying not to think about Tonks and making sure no muggles were looking, David stepped into the booth, awaiting to be transported to the main Auror office. It was quite a simple process. The old muggle machine had been charmed to recognize the magical signature of any law enforcement officer in its ranks. All you had to do was place your wand in the tray, say aloud your name and you’d be whisked away to the halls of the Aurors.

David did just that, as he could feel the magical sensors checking him over including multiple dark detectors.

“David John Grant,” he said, showing his badge.

However, instead of finding himself inside the Ministry in the next second, a wave of green slime appeared out of nowhere, drenching him from head to toe in a disgusting ooze.

“ACK! What the f-”

He quickly exited the booth to the curious glances of some muggle onlookers, who were no doubt attracted by the minor commotion. Giving them all a quick smile and a wave, David ducked behind one of the brick buildings the city was known for, cursing himself and the booth.

A few cleaning charms later, there was little trace of the substance on him (save for his vans) but the incident only brought more questions. Why had the secret entrance denied him? Technically speaking, he hadn’t officially resigned from the Aurors when he went into hiding and took up being a vigilante. His magical signature and badge should have been more than enough to avoid the pitfall of having that odious slime dropped all over him. It was merely a safeguard against dark wizards, but it also revealed something else.

Whatever the reason, the Ministry no longer recognized his credentials. That in itself was an ominous sign. If he wanted answers, he would have to go about it the old fashioned way.

Ensuring no one was peering into the alley, David apparated out of sight once more.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One trip to London and a red phone booth later, David was finally inside the Ministry. Walking down the sleek, marble halls, it was almost exactly as he had remembered- the same statues, same fountain, same amounts of flying memos zooming in and out of their respective stations. The hustle and bustle was back and there was no sign of any damage from the war.

If the Ministry looks this good, it must be a fairly long time since the last battle.

Even more promising was the person sitting at the front entrance desk. David recognized those dark features and orange sideburns anywhere: Talbott Winger. He was wearing the blue robes most Aurors did while on duty and that was also a good sign. He, Tonks, and Talbott were the last ones accepted for mentorship in 1991 which meant he would know just what the hell was going on.

He was just about to greet his old friend, until he stopped dead in his tracks, recalling the monument and how Talbott’s name wasn’t on the list of the fallen. Seeing him alive and well at the Ministry all but confirmed this was the case. But this only brought more confusion to David’s already very bamboozled mind.

He died during the battle. I witnessed it with my own eyes. So if this is the future, how can he still be alive?

None of this was making any sense at all. Nevertheless, David knew that he had to try and do something to figure this mess out. Though naturally reserved, Talbott did not hesitate to help the rare few he called ‘friend’. Perhaps he could provide some assistance, whatever the reason for this madness.

“Hey, Talbott.”

The ebony skinned wizard looked up, his sharp eyes penetrating him like the hawk of his animagus form.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice betraying no hint of recognition.

David rolled his eyes playfully as he leaned on the desk.

“Come on, mate. Quite having me on. It’s Dave.”

An awkward silence followed as he sought to clarify.

“David Grant.”

Again, the name did not compute as Talbott merely gaze a polite look of bewilderment.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Okay, now this was definitely getting weird. How did Talbott, even if he was somehow not dead, not even know who he was?

“Talbott, I’m your friend. David Grant. We went to Hogwarts together. I helped you find your lost necklace that your mother gave you.”

That statement lit up the dark, brown eyes of the animagus though it was not out of familiarity, rather the emotion seemed to be pain and shock.

“I don’t know how you know about that, but I can assure you, you were not the one to help me find my necklace nor did I attend Hogwarts with you. Now, is there something I can help you with?”

David was practically reeling. How was it possible that the man he had gone through so much with didn’t even so much as recognize him? It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense.

Alright, at the very least, I can get in here, find my old office and pour through some old files. I’m sure whoever’s in charge now can clear this up.

“Yeah…uh…I’m an Auror,” he said showing his badge. “Listen, I’ve been gone awhile for reasons you wouldn’t believe anyway but I just need to get to my old office and talk to someone. Is that possible at least?”

“Give me your badge and wand.”

Short and to the point, no time for idle chit chat. That was Talbott alright, which made the situation all the more disconcerting.

Talbott took his items and examined them, muttering a few standard identification and security spells, before getting up from his chair.

“One moment, please.”

David raised an eyebrow but didn’t object. Though he didn’t know why a simple identification spell required going into a backroom, he was sure whatever issue popped up would be cleared soon enough. After what seemed like half an hour (it was only ten minutes, but it seemed longer), Talbott returned and handed his wand and badge back to him.

“I’m not quite sure what the issue is, sir. But there’s no record of any David Grant of having worked for the Auror Department, or any other Ministry job for that matter.”

The twenty five year old leaned forward slightly, as if not hearing him correctly.

“I’m sorry what?”

“Your badge is authentic but there’s no employment history of anybody with your name here. When I applied more tests to your wand, it didn’t match any current witch or wizard in the entirety of the United Kingdom, nor anything ever sold from Ollivanders.”

This time the confusion was shared by both men, as David looked incredulously at his wand and badge as though he no longer knew what they were, while Talbott appeared to be a cross between dumbfounded and even a tad sympathetic.

“Nothing at all? No David, or John Grant or anyone with that name?”

“Nothing. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never seen anything like this before. I want to believe you. But as far as the government is concerned, you don’t exist.”

David let those words hit him a few times before even contemplating a course of action.

As far as the government is concerned, you don’t exist

You don’t exist…

You don’t exist….

“I-I don’t understand,” he finally spoke aloud.

“Neither do I,” Talbott affirmed. “But unfortunately, I can’t let you in the Ministry at this time. I’m sorry.”

David didn’t even bother to argue the point. It seemed as though every time he found a simple method to answer his questions, the end result would just add more to his ‘to-do’ list. The revelation that the British Ministry held no record of anyone with his name was the icing on the cake.

“Well…uh…thank you anyway.”

Turning around to leave, there was one more question burning on David’s mind, one that he was sure even this version of Talbott wouldn’t mind revealing.

“Would you at least mind telling me this? What day and year is it?”

Talbott gave him a questioning look but gave him a straight answer.

“May 4th, 1999,” he answered.

So a whole year has passed? That explains why the war damage has been fixed. But not everything else. Including my own status as living, breathing person.

Then he noticed something else. A small pin attached to the front of Talbott’s Auror robes. Upon closer inspection, he saw it was an American Flag, the second one he had seen today.

“I beg your pardon but why do you have a lapel of the United States flag?”

“Full of questions, aren’t we? It’s a commemoration.”

David didn’t understand but then again what else was new. He needed to ask for more.

“What does America have to do with the commemoration of the end of the war?”

There was no mistaking the obvious look of pain and sorrow on Talbott’s face this time. So distraught that look was, he shifted his gaze to the side.

“The citizens of the United Kingdom weren’t the only ones who gave up their lives in order to stop You Know Who.”

It was there that David ceased, prudently unwilling to press the matter further. Talbott wasn’t going to speak more on the subject anyway and to do so would have been inappropriate anyway.

“Thank you for your help, good day.”

David didn’t turn to witness Talbott’s reaction. He had seen enough. From being thrusted a year forward in time, to seeing an old friend alive, right down to his own seemingly non-existence, this whole scenario was becoming positively ridiculous. And if he couldn’t find information at the Ministry there was another source he could turn to.

It was a time for a trip to Diagon Alley.

#ethren whitecross #david grant #harry potter #hogwarts mystery #tribute #fanfiction #talbott winger #nymphadora tonks #battle of hogwarts #au #hphm #hphm fanfiction

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ofmikaelsonmagiks · 5 years

Text

@eveningxlights has reignited my flame of bitterness over the unnecessary angst-fest that was season 5 of The Originals. So. This is your girl’s take on how some of the biggest (and worst) plot points could have been changed to give us a happier finale. Under the cut, ‘cause I get wordy.

Klaus Fighting Elijah: Honestly, one of my biggest bones to pick with JP. The fight I’m referring to is specifically when he and Elijah were fighting outside the farmhouse where Hayley and Hope were being held. We’ve seen in past seasons of both TVD and TO that Klaus has little to no problem snapping the necks or putting a dagger into the chest of any sibling that even mildly inconveniences him. You’re telling me that when No Memory Elijah was standing in the way of Klaus getting to his daughter and her mother (whom he loved dearly, even if he wasn’t IN LOVE WITH her) that he wouldn’t just snap his damn neck? Sorry. Calling BS on that one. There’s no way that the Klaus Mikaelson we knew from the previous four seasons wouldn’t have done whatever the hell he had to to get to them, including taking out Elijah.

Elijah Staking Klaus: This one is just stupid. After the fight, when Klaus is about to make his daring rescue, Elijah shoves a big ol’ branch into his chest. Sure, it would hurt, but Klaus has literally been shown in past seasons to just pull that kind of stuff out while shooting the person responsible a murderous glare. He pulled out a freaking mystical dagger of pain and paralysis from his own chest the season previously, but sure. A regular branch in his chest is enough to keep down the Original Hybrid. Okay. SURE JAN.

Hayley Burning To Death: Before Hayley snaps off the Nazi bitch’s finger, Klaus still has a branch in his chest. Immediately after she drags that crusty old hag outside to BURN, the branch is gone, and he’s just standing there. First of all, if he was in fact able to pull the branch out himself, why wouldn’t he have done it BEFORE Hayley plunged to her blaze of glory? Second of all, we saw in season 2 of The Originals (and in multiple other seasons) with Gia’s death that burning in the sunlight doesn’t kill a vampire right away--she died screaming. They don’t even catch fire right away! So Klaus could have whooshed out, grabbed Hayley, pulled her back inside and put the fire out.

Note also that later in the chambre de chasse that Hope creates to take back the Hollow, Klaus tells Elijah there was no quick end for Hayley, yet in her actual death scene, it seems pretty quick and easy, if intensely painful as we do hear her scream once. Which is it, Julie Plague? Huh? Which is it?

The Binding Spell: Esther Mikaelson does not approve. Granted, we don’t actually want her approval in most things, but given that the werewolf binding is her spell, this seems like a pretty crucial thing. The spell Esther used (which I would assume is in fact the only spell for binding a hybrid’s werewolf side) involved a full moon, a moonstone, and the blood of a doppelganger. But when Freya attempts to bind Hope’s werewolf side, it’s in broad daylight, she was using. . .Hope’s blood? and then was going to brand Hope (which is never mentioned in the original binding spell). Similarly with the Nazi cult having their witch bind Hayley’s werewolf side, it was in broad daylight, with no doppelganger blood in sight and branding. I’m not even sure if they were using a moonstone. Basically what I’m saying is that spell wouldn’t/shouldn’t have actually worked, because they did everything wrong?

The Hollow’s Magic Killing Hope: It made no sense. The Hollow WANTED to possess Hope, it wanted her magic and power. And when she was possessed at seven years old, she was . . ? completely fine? So was Sofya, when she was possessed. There was no concern of it destroying Hope’s body, only that her soul would essentially be extinguished and the Hollow would be the only resident. So there was no reason why, when Hope took the Hollow back from her family, it would have attacked her body like that. Driven her mad? Sure. It was a 1500 year old witch obsessed with power and destruction, and Hope was a fifteen year old kid trying to fight for control. It would have made sense if the concern was Hope’s mind breaking under the pressure. Instead it was apparently the Hollow killing her slowly.

Elijah Dying: Klaus was dying to save Hope, because if he died, the Hollow died with him. This made sense (it was terrible, but it made sense). Elijah just chose to die for no reason other than he figured since Klaus found his redemption that. . .there was no longer a point of living? For someone who loves his family so much, he just peaced out on them for the dumbest of reasons. He knew he could find happiness, peace even. He’d had seven years of it in France. Instead he just committed suicide, which frankly seems out of character for Elijah if you ask me. Has he always been willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of his family/the women he loves? Yes. Has he ever been shown to be suicidal? No. No, that was Finn, and it was understandable after the piss-poor quality of immortal life he’d had.

Rebekah Getting The Cure: Instead of giving Rebekah an arc where she finally accepts immortality if she gets to spend it with someone who adores her, JP chose to have Rebekah die (slowly, but still die). Also, it’s never once pointed out that Rebekah could just adopt a mess of kids if she wants children so badly--but then the writers also paired Rebekah with her nephew, so we know what they think about adoption (not much). It also doesn’t really make sense for her to get the cure, because it��s not like there’s a bunch of that stuff lying around? It passes from person to person as they ingest it. Also, whoever it’s taken from starts aging rapidly (as shown with Katherine Pierce). Assuming the cure is in Damon Salvatore last (assuming he takes it in the first place so that he and Elena can have a human life together), Rebekah would essentially be killing him? I get that she wants to be human and all, but Klaus said that he arranged it with Caroline, and Damon is now her brother-in-law as well as being married to her best friend, and I just can’t see Caroline doing that just to give Rebekah a human life. So. . .

In closing, the Mikaelson family was nearly decimated in really dumb ways and for really stupid reasons (mainly making Hope edgy and angsty for Legacies), and I will happily ignore any and all of these things in RP. Because canon may have made a decision, but given that it’s a stupid ass decision, I have elected to ignore it.

#not a mikaelson (ooc)#rant #bitterness #anti season 5 #anti julie plec #i call her julie plague for a reason guys #she's like george lucas #she has good general ideas but after a while the project needs to be taken away from her because she just ruins it

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sserpente · 6 years

Text

In a heartbeat (Chapter 11)

A/N: Hope you have a nice week, everybody! Here’s a new chapter to make your Monday a little more bearable! ☺

Find all chapters on my masterlist!

“I’m not a champ at physics but if the hold of the dagger is heavier than the blade, shouldn’t I throw the knife by gripping the light end?”

Loki chuckled darkly. He was standing so close to you the body heat radiating off of him clouded your conscience. Every movement he made posed yet another distraction to what he was trying to teach you, regardless of how interested you were.

He had had a point—it was essential you knew how to properly defend yourself and oddly, when you had gone to sleep in Loki’s apartment next to each other after a wonderful hot shower, you had been looking forward to some adventurous hand-to-hand combat, where you finally had an excuse to touch him and explore his body.

Were you naughty for thinking that? In this very situation? Your life was in danger, one of your best friends had died, you had almost died and been enslaved and all you could do before falling asleep was wondering about how godly Loki would look naked. What was this? Some kind of self-defence mechanism your mind was developing? A tame version of Stockholm syndrome? Loki wasn’t your captor, you were very well aware of that, however.

“Theoretically, you are right. But if I let you throw these daggers with the blade in hand, you are going to cut yourself, little minx.” He explained tauntingly.

“You’re acting like I have never known violence before. I told you I am taking self-defence classes. Why aren’t we doing that first? Teach me how to throw a punch the way you would do it.”

“The people we are dealing with on this planet are, if anything, humanoid. They will crush you with their thumb, (Y/N), that is why you will be staying away from the battlefield.”

“I wasn’t planning on going at war, Loki.”

Pausing, he looked you directly in the eye and pressed his lips together to a thin line.

“You are already in one,” His expression darkened and for just a split second, you believed to have caught regret sparkling in his blue eyes. It was gone as soon as you noticed.

“Bend your wrist back toward your forearm.” Loki then commanded, pushing your legs apart for better balance. You almost moaned when his hands touched your thighs, his hips bumping against your back.

“Which is your dominant leg?”

“Right one,” you whispered.

The God of Mischief nodded.

“Place your weight on it like this.” Again, he reached for your thighs. You swallowed thickly, starting to believe that he was doing that just to tease you. He couldn’t know, of course, about your growing feelings for him, still, however, he seemed to be using you to fight his own boredom in between trying to figure out how to get back to Asgard and defeat Hela.

Well, if he continued like this, you certainly didn’t mind.

“When you swing the knife forward, you shift your weight from your dominant leg to your non-dominant leg. And make sure to keep enough distance between the blade and your head unless you fancy a new haircut.”

“Funny, really,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes all the while fighting a smile.

“Now throw. Let the dagger slip from your grasp and let your body follow forward. Throw.”

You did. Loki’s dagger slashed through the air, rotating more or less horizontally until hitting the plane wreck—only did it not stick like the one he himself had thrown to demonstrate it to you. Granted, you had focused on the dancing of those gorgeous muscles under his dark leather armour of his in the process, still, the result had been impressive.

“You will need to apply more strength,” he remarked when he tilted his head and watched the dagger fall to the ground.

“Really? No ‘well done for your first try’?”

Smirking, his blue eyes locked with yours. You couldn’t tell whether it was a minute or an hour that passed until Thor made an appearance. Valkyrie was right behind him. She only shot you a disgusted glance, raising an eyebrow at the dagger on the dirty ground.

“Any news from Heimdall?” Loki turned away from you just long enough for you to figure out by yourself how to throw the next dagger at the back of the plane wreck as he handed it to you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Thor shaking his head.

“Not yet. Thanks to you, he is on the run. He might be busy,” he replied sarcastically. The God of Mischief rolled his eyes.

Valkyrie opened a bottle of beer. “We need to get to Asgard as soon as possible.”

“Yes, I know but Heimdall is keeping an eye on Hela. We need to be careful and attack when she is least prepared.”

Sighing, you turned back to Loki.

“Did you two talk? I mean… did she apologise?”

Frowning, he opened his mouth. “She did not,”

“But is she still acting this… cold?” A great pun you had not intended to use. You resisted the urge to slap your palm against your forehead.

“I don’t believe that should be any concern of yours, little minx.”

“If you two don’t get along, you are hardly in the condition to save the world together and thus, it affects me as well,” you lied, your tone smug and teasing.

Loki took the hint. He smirked mischievously at you.

“Throw the dagger.” He said, ending the conversation.

It was then you overheard Valkyrie’s voice, turning your attention back to her and Thor.

“…if we keep that stupid mortal girl around.”

Growling, you gripped the hold of the dagger tighter and resumed the correct position. Place your weight on your dominant leg, bend your wrist back toward your forearm.

Just when you were about to throw the dagger, however, you turned, focusing all of your anger on the fierce Valkyrie only a few feet away from you. There was a slight chance you were going to hit Thor but you were willing to take the risk.

You let the blade slip from your grasp—and hit Valkyrie right in her thigh.

A painful scream escaped her lips, followed by a fake gasp on your behalf. Loki’s eyes widened as he stared at the bleeding wound his dagger had caused, then turned his gaze back to you to shoot you a reproachful look.

“Stupid girl, you did that on purpose!” Valkyrie shrieked.

“I swear I didn’t, I’m so sorry! I’ve just learned how to do that. I’m so sorry.” You fought hard to hold back a laugh. You knew of course that Valkyrie just like Thor and Loki possessed supernatural healing abilities and that it wouldn’t take long for her to recover—you hadn’t actually planned on killing her, after all.

Still, and that was the part that scared you the most, the sight of her injury filled you with satisfaction, your revenge soothed for now. She deserved it. She had insulted Loki after using his body for her pleasure and she had offended you. There was no excuse. This woman was a nightmare.

Valkyrie stormed off, muttering vulgar curses in the process. Loki let out a taunting sigh.

“You did that on purpose, did you not?”

“No,” you answered, sounding entirely unaffected. “I was aiming for her head.” He chuckled when you shrugged.

You were sweating by the time Loki was done with your training. It had taken you another three hours of throwing knives on end, your arm aching and protesting with every movement, that he finally agreed on showing you the basic strategies of combat.

Three seconds in, he had thrown you to the ground effortlessly, mocking you for all the mistakes you were making. Apparently, your self-defence teacher hadn’t been so good, after all.

Grumbling, you scratched the back of your hand as you followed the God of Mischief back inside, ready to fall onto your provisory bed and rest your limbs until you had recovered.

You even ignored Valkyrie who, appalled by yours and Loki’s arrival, was lost in a heated conversation with Thor. Her thigh had healed already… unfortunately.

“I need a shower,” you murmured, eyeing your wet clothes in a disgusted manner as you looked down at yourself. Loki chuckled.

“What you need are new clothes. A shower will do nothing if you keep walking around in these garments. You have not changed them since the day I met you.” He stated dryly, as if the explanation was logical.

“I can’t just snap my fingers and magic some new clothes on me, Loki. If I could, I wouldn’t be complaining.”

The God of Mischief only tilted his head in response. You had learned by now he always did that when he pondered over something, intrigued, fascinated or alerted.

“Loki?” Thor waved at him, urging him on to join their conversation. “I know how we will get back to Asgard.”

Loki frowned. “Do tell.”

“You see that gateway? The big one?” He briefly pointed at the red glowing smoke pipe outside, outshining the sun. It was hideous.

Valkyrie nodded. “It’s the Devil’s Anus.”

“The what?” Blinking, the Thunderer shook his head.

“I have heard of it before. The Grandmaster mentioned it briefly when he invited me to his house.” Loki explained thoughtfully.

“Well, I didn’t know it was called that when I picked it. I was able to reach Heimdall again, Loki, that gateway will take us straight to Asgard. It will take us home.” All of a sudden, Thor sounded hopeful—dreamy, even. As if finally, he was going to this city he had been dreaming of for years. If only this were the case.

Silently, your gaze wandered back and forth between the two brothers.

“You do realise we will need a ship a lot stronger than the ones we used to get to Helheim? And even then it’s still risky. We might as well get ourselves killed.” Valkyrie tossed in. It seemed like the only thing this woman ever did was opening beer bottles. So she did now, taking a big gulp and then shooting you an evil glare.

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms and leaned back. Your arm was still throbbing like someone had trampled on it.

“Yes, I know, I know. That’s where Loki comes in. I have a plan, brother.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” he mumbled in response. You barely managed to hold back your giggling. Even if his joke was, given the circumstances, anything but nice or funny… you caught yourself laughing quietly.

You really had fallen for this man. When the realisation hit you, you gasped for air like a drowning kitten.

“You made friends with the Grandmaster. Loki, we need one of his ships. One that is big enough to get us back home safely.”

You would actually get to see Asgard then. The place you had read about in books about Norse Mythology… it was impressive. Perhaps… perhaps this was, apart from meeting the God of Mischief, the only positive thing about the miserable situation you were in.

“You are talking about stealing the access codes to his security system…” He trailed of, frowning at the ground.

Thor nodded. “Could you do that?”

“The Grandmaster will hold one of his famous contests of champions tonight. He will be distracted. It will not be too difficult.”

“Then do it,” Valkyrie spat wrathfully. You resisted the urge to steal one of Loki’s daggers and stab her once more.

Loki simply ignored her harsh words and instead smiled at Thor as if he were about to steal cookies from the kitchen. Your heart skipped a beat when he suddenly turned to you.

“You come with me, little minx.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice.

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jade4813 · 7 years

Text

I Finally Did The Thing

So, a while ago, someone who will remain nameless sent me some SB points (purporting to be proof that there is a plan in place for romantic SB) to get my brother’s reaction on them - as a writer and as a person who is frequently and hilariously pained. I’m not going to post the OP here, but I’ll sum up the points and give his reaction for the amusement of those who are interested. As this is long, it’s under the cut. (My husband gets in on this a time or two, as well.)

Point 1: Caitlin’s feelings for and attachment to Barry are the reason she wouldn’t leave town with Ronnie. Barry has been compared to Ronnie. Caitlin’s feelings for Barry superseded her feelings for Ronnie and her desire to stay could only be romantic.

My brother: “Sure. That holds up in a court of law. And you’re an attorney, you should know. It’s like what When Harry Met Sally said 20 years ago. Men and Women can’t be friends. Wait…almost 30 years ago. Jesus Christ.”

Me: “Did I just give you a midlife crisis? We just got started, here!”

Him: “A little. Carry on.”

Point 2: Everyman didn’t HAVE to kiss Cailtin, but he felt there was something between them, in the way Caitlin interacted with Barry. And she kissed back, so she has feelings for Barry.

Me: “That was a noise. How do you type that, do you think? Mmmfg?”

Him: “Maybe rrrrrr. Wait. ARE YOU WRITING THIS DOWN?”

Me: “…No.”

Him: “Okay.”

Point 3: Caitlin was unhappy when she saw the byline because it told her that she had no future with Barry. She probably married Ronnie because she realized she had no future with Barry because of the byline. It doesn’t help that Barry was pining after Iris the whole time.

Him: “What…what…how?”

My Husband: “Answer his questions in order, honey.”

Me: “In answer to your questions…I dunno!”

My Brother: “Okay, I’m following what you’re saying; I’m not following the crazy. I just – I kind of have Stockholm Syndrome right now. How far into the show are we?”

Me: “Season 1.”

Him: “Oh good.”

Me: “Do you not remember?”

Him: “I drink to forget. Carry on.”

Point 4: Cisco warned them about creating a causal nexus if they change time. Iris decided to date Barry to avoid the causal nexus.

Him: “WHAT THE FUCK IS A CAUSAL NEXUS?”

Me: “A creation of the show. Like a paradox.”

Him: “How…what?”

Me: “You’re going to have to come up with new questions. I’ve answered those.”

Him: “You DID NOT!”

My Husband: “I’m glad you’re laying it on his doorstep and not mine.”

My Brother: “No! Really! I need to know this! How is Iris loving Barry a paradox?”

Me: “Because she only does so because of destiny, I guess they’re saying?”

Him: “But how is…that doesn’t even have any relation to the show! To what the show has presented!”

Me: “You have to remove watching the actual show and I guess reason from this process.”

Him: “Oh is THAT what I have to remove?”

There was some screaming.

My Husband: “I was expecting more of, like, “How did expletive deleted they get expletive deleted out of the show?”

Me: “At least now we’re in season 2.”

My Brother: “Oh thank god we finally got there. I don’t think I could have stood much more of season 1.”

Point 5: Caitlin falling for Jay was probably her projecting her feelings for Barry onto someone just like him.

Him: “…What?”

Me: “Caitlin falling…”

Him: “No. I understand all the words you said in that sentence, but strung together, it doesn’t make any sense. I know I speak the language. I’m just kind of cocking my head confused. How is the fake Jay Garrick like Barry?”

Me: “THEY HAVE SPEEDSTER POWERS!”

Him: “…All right. Sure. Let’s move on. But…No. Didn’t the real Jay…she didn’t fall in love with the real Jay!”

Me: “No. He was Zoom. But he’s just like Barry. I guess.”

Him: “But…she didn’t fall in love with Reverse Flash.”

Me: “Well, she didn’t know her feelings yet!”

Him: “So she has a thing for people with speed?”

Me: “But Iris is the one who only loves Barry because he’s Flash. Caitlin only loves substitutes for Barry. And if she doesn’t love them, they aren’t substitutes for Barry.”

Him: “So why is she not fucking Usain Bolt?”

My Husband: “Because he’s black?”

My Brother: “Jesus.”

Point 6: The only real conversation between Caitlin and Iris has been about destiny - that Iris is destined to be with Barry and Caitlin doesn’t believe in destiny. This could be prophetic.

Him: “Because this show is all about the Bechdel test.”

Me: “Prophetic? But weren’t they saying the scene is about how Iris will be with Barry and Caitlin will, you know, not? So I guess that is prophetic. Were they trying to say ironic?”

Him: (whispering) “I don’t think this person knows. I’m just waiting to see where we go with this.”

Point 7: Iris told Barry her feelings when he was at his lowest point, having lost Caitlin. He needed emotional support, and Iris was there. Of course, the show can’t have Iris with Barry when Caitlin is around. Caitlin has to be entirely removed to give Westallen a shot. By the time Caitlin gets back, three episodes later, the damage is done and she’s already begun her transformation.”

Him: “Except she didn’t transform at that point. And there are a lot of scenes were Iris and Caitlin are together and Barry pulls Iris aside. WHAT THE FUCK SHOW IS THIS PERSON WATCHING?”

Me: “You’d think they’d at least watch the scenes with Caitlin in them. And note it has nothing to do with the fact that the only reason Barry talked to Caitlin as he did in Season 1 was because he couldn’t talk to Iris about his feelings for her. They used Caitlin as a stand-in FOR IRIS, and once he could talk to Iris, that was no longer needed.”

Him: “Is there more to this?”

Me: “Yes.”

Him: “Oh Jesus.” (weakly) “Okay…I need to go to the grocery store soon and get more alcohol.”

Me: “They’re ignoring that Barry didn’t go save Caitlin for those three episodes, too.”

Him: “They’re ignoring like 2/3 of plot of the show! We could have a longer conversation about what they’re ignoring than what they’re paying attention to. Let’s just take it for granted they’re ignoring shit, at this point.”

Point 8: Caitlin has always kept track of Barry’s love life, but they didn’t talk about it when he started dating Iris. Friends talk about that stuff. It was clear in episode 3.07 that she’s jealous.”

Him: “…I’m processing. Give me a minute. … Okay…I think what’s going on there, is that in that episode, Caitlin didn’t specifically say “it’s so great you’re together” but she wanted to kill everybody including the two of them. So…essentially, this is like saying Jack the Ripper should have said some of the people he murdered “but congratulations on your recent engagement. I mean, I’m going to kill you…but congratulations!”

Me: “Only if he wasn’t jealous…The only reason not to say that is if he’s jealous they’re engaged.”

Him: “…Sure.”

Me: “That’s what they’re saying.”

Him: “…Let’s just move on. This getting difficult for me. We’re clearly in season 3. Thank fucking god.”

Point 9: Barry is closest to Caitlin and brought her crying to the surface.

I ACCIDENTALLY SKIPPED THIS ONE! DAMN IT! I’m totally going to tell him tomorrow.

Point 10: Killer Frost didn’t have to kiss Barry but she did. There was no other reason for them to do it. “We’ve dissected that moment into hundreds of gifs and even rotated the pictures.” He responded. That may have been GG’s feelings for DP coming through. But he kissed back, and she didn’t have to kiss him.

Him: “…Yes, yes. Oh good, good. You’ve dissected the moment. That is the action of a sane person. That is something normal people do. TRUST ME. No, it’s the rest of the world. You’re okay, babe. MOST PROBABLY it was GG being in love with DP. Most probably. When else does an actor every kiss an actress?”

Me: “And also, I mean, he doesn’t kiss back.”

Him: “But even if he did. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT???”

Me: “Because it’s endgame and the only way to see it is to slow it down and enhance it to find these signs but it’s clear that it’s endgame.”

Him: “Well, I have a picture of me kissing an actress and it looks like I’m kissing her, but I’m not. She’s engaged to someone else. And I’m not interested in her that way. These people are obsessed with TV but fundamentally don’t understand how shows are made!”

Me: “Also forgetting that kissing is canonically her attack.”

Him: “That’s like saying that when Poison Ivy kissed Batman…they’re saying Uma Thurman really is in love with George Clooney. And that Poison Ivy has a thing for Batman. But with GG and DP. They’re saying that Uma Thurman and George Clooney are really in love.”

Me: “Maybe if you slow it down and dissect and rotate the pictures. Have you tried that?”

Him: “THAT IS NOT HOW ACTING WORKS!”

Point 11: We can tell Caitlin has feelings for Barry because she patches him up as Caitlin. “As Killer Frost, she shows that by ripping him to shreds (emotionally), stabbing him with an icicle, and kissing him to death (almost)…”

Him: “WOULD YOU JUST REREAD THAT LAST SENTENCE? WOULD JUST REREAD THE SENTENCE YOU JUST WROTE???”

Me: “I have talked to you about some of your exes. We can both agree that the only way to show love is to rip the other person to shreds emotionally, stab each other, and kiss each other to death.”

Him: “Well, that was in the 90s…it was a crazy time. I was wrong.”

Point 11, continued: THAT IS NOT FRIENDSHIP! Caitlin can’t accept that yet, but Killer Frost is helping her see that.

Him: “I would agree with that. That’s the first thing that I’m like…Rrrright. Remember that time I was possessed by a demon and I murdered everyone I knew? I think we can agree that wasn’t a friendly gesture. Also, patching him up isn’t friendship. It’s kind of her job."

As additional points, I reminded him of the following:

Caitlin froze Barry offscreen. The only way she could have done this is if she kissed him.

Him: “Definitely! Yup! This sounds like a sane theory. None of this sounds like China invented global warming crazy. None of this sounds like vaccines create autism crazy. This is legit.”

Barry saw her holding a baby and SB fans think he thought at first it was his. So we don’t know what will happen. SB IS ENDGAME!

Him: “…But…I mean…in…" (sigh) (sigh) "a…mmmg….let me sit down and collect…collect this thought…A…like…I…a…all right. Like…even…if you have in a dream…okay, all right, do people understand that in dreams, people…Like…like…like… All right.”

This seems to be the moment I actually broke him.

“Sure, man, sounds legit. … I got nothin’. Nothin’ more for you. I’m drained. This is…i…i…i…the last part, like, it’s not…yeah, if this were…a self-contained universe…but like, sure yeah, we don’t know who he’s going to end up with. All of this made me hurt.

Me: “But as a writer, would you say -?”

Him: “NO. To the answer you’re formulating. NO. NO NO NO. No. First of all, the ones they picked out…no. Just no. No. I mean, I wouldn’t rule out that they couldn’t do a sudden plot twist in a contained universe. But this isn’t and…no. No, no no! No! No is the answer to your question. NO! I …y-y-you’re really…you have…if…let me put it this way…if they did that sudden plot twist and I went back and saw foreshadowing…But…no…I wouldn’t be sitting there being like “I see this one coming you asshole.” That’s not how it works! Especially on TV. We’re pulling it out of our asses as we go, for the most part. In the case of most TV shows, they don’t write a season at a time, they’re just making it up as I go along.”

Me: “I’m curious. As a general audience member, because I’m so much closer to it than you are. If SB happened, would you be able to go back and rewatch and see it coming? Or would it be -?”

Him: “I’d think they pulled it out of their asses. That is pretty much pulled out of an asshole. They didn’t know what the fuck to do, so they said fuck it, throw the script out! But I’m also saying, I can kinda tell when I’m watching shows, how they’re made. If they’re made with an intent in mind or if they’re made up on the spot. And Flash is fundamentally a show made up on the spot. Season to season, they have a general idea of where this is all going. But I don’t think episode to episode they know exactly what the next episode would be. And I certainly think when they made the first season, they were just like “We’re making a show about a fast guy.” So it’s kind of a little inside baseball. You watch the pitcher and catcher and they obviously know what they want to do for the next nine innings, but they don’t necessarily know what the next pitch will be. You can see when they’ve mapped it out versus when they just kind of go with it. The Flash clearly has an idea of where it wants to go season to season, and the story they want to tell overall. They don’t necessarily have episodes planned out. But from what they’ve done, you can see the overall plan…it isn’t SB. So if they did SB, it would be like “Oh, they were just reaching…” I would totally assume that was an asspull. In a contained universe, they could change their mind and go there if they wanted. But as of right now, that isn’t a thing they’re moving towards at all. It’s an asspull. Is that…are we done?”

Me: “For now. I’ll have more next week, I’m sure.”

Him: “I’m…I’m gonna start drinking now.”

#my brother #sb stuff #real life #I broke him

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thelordice · 3 years

Text

I Am Not Your Kind

tw depression, suicidal thoughts

I’ve got to vent about this somewhere, and this is about my only option. Advice and condolences are welcome if you have them, but this is mostly me screaming into the void.

So, on account of my life being utter shit just all around, I was recently forced to move to LA, moving in with my best friend - essentially, my brother, and I call him such (since this is the second time in a year he’s saved me from homelessness and death). And I’m eternally grateful for that generosity. But living here is Hell.

Not due to the conditions or my treatment - ostensibly, everything is wonderful except for an annoying neighbor. It comes down to the fact that my brother... is married. And that’s great, I’m glad he and his wife are happy together. But as disgustingly selfish and petty as it sounds, I hate seeing it every day.

I am, by nature, a passionate and romantic being, even if I’m socially inept and would likely be very bad at expressing this. But all my life, as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of having what I now see every day - a happy, normal, loving relationship. I know it’s possible, I know it exists. It just doesn’t exist for me. I’ve only ever had one relationship, and it was... toxic doesn’t do it justice. I literally refer to that relationship as the Four Years War.

But that was simply a catalyst for a lifetime of suffering. I’ve always been a solitary creature, but it was never by choice. About the only things I remember from middle school are bullies. In senior year of high school, I used a yearbook to write down the names of all the faces I’d see mocking me on a regular basis. That list had 126 names on it, faces I’d see cackling at my expense at least once a week. Keeping friends is hard, people usually just... drift away from me, or just straight tell me I’m annoying and to fuck off. Eventually, during school, I just walled myself off - pushed everyone away, tried to bury the pain and sorrow and loneliness with a carefree smile that I’d practiced over years.

But it failed. The ache only grew, the hole I felt inside myself stretching slowly into a gaping maw of hate and bitterness that it took all my restraint to keep in check. I eventually let a very few people know this. One... he told me he had a friend that needed someone to talk to. I obliged, opened up to her... and that’s what led to the Four Years War. My ex exploited the most hopeful part of me, drew on my desperation to manipulate me day in and day out before casting me aside in such a way that, without my brother, would have led to my death. I don’t know if I can ever trust someone like that again. She turned my greatest dream into my worst nightmare, and that hurts like hell.

But I know that I need to. Every part of me screams “this is what I need,” but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have it. Not only because of my own traumas and wounds - who, after all, would want something as broken as I? No, the result of my only relationship also solidified a belief I’d had growing in the back of my mind for years. Humans are... a social species. Social dynamics are a core part of human culture and customs, and certain social interactions are necessary for healthy brain function. And for that reason, humans pack bond - they fall in with others of their kind and repel all else. That’s why the Uncanny Valley exists - things that look just human-like enough to be both realistic, and primordially disturbing, and so humans reject those things. Because humans typically cast aside things they see as not like them that does not please them.

And so I find myself here... straight at the bottom of the Uncanny Valley. I look human, I sound human, I smell human, everything about my biology functions just as a human’s would. But given the near-universal rejection I’ve experienced from humanity - all kinds of people from all backgrounds and walks of life - then there is only one answer to the conundrum of why I have had to experience this for so long. As the Great Detective once said, “once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains - however improbable - must be the truth.” And so, with rejection from so many different types of people - some with no commonality whatsoever aside from this - I have been forced to conclude that the only logical reason for it all... is that I am not human, despite all appearances. I am not a person. I am less. I am a plaything, a novel distraction to be discarded when its novelty wears off. Eventually this will happen here, too, and I’ll be set adrift again. And one day, it will kill me. But I welcome that. Because there is no other escape from this torment. An overactive self-protective reflex has thwarted every attempt I’ve made to put myself out of everyone else’s misery, and I hate myself all the more for it. I cannot be happy, I cannot be human, I can only be... this. Alone, miserable, and in agony from seeing my greatest dream made real while I can never know that simple bliss that so many take for granted.

And it hurts. It hurts so... fucking... much. I’m so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of scratching by on the skin of my teeth to survive to see another miserable day as the world collapses around us, tired of pretending to be something I’m not. This is the most open I’ve ever been with these thoughts... and it’s almost a comfort to know that there’s a near-certainty that nobody will ever read this. Because nobody cares. And they’re right not to. I’m not worth caring about. I’m not worth anything. I’m just a miserable waste of space and resources and I hate myself more and more every day.

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