#no theme here but they're all villagers I like
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New Toe Bean's first ten villagers and myself!
#no theme here but they're all villagers I like#acnh#animal crossing new horizons#mine#animal crossing#ac genji#ac ankha#ac megan#ac kevin#ac jeremiah#ac cephalobot#ac lopez#ac bangle#ac punchy#ac deirdre
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Throne of His Own
This fic is inspired & adapted from chapter 42 of A Court Of Mist And Fury, by Sarah J. Maas. Plot is original, but I took heavy influence from the events of that scene. <3
Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)
18+ MDNI !!
Summary: Being sent to a rural French village to go undercover with a band of vampires was strangely typical for your line of work— But, pretending to be lovers with another agent was anything but typical. Adapting yourself from a trained agent to a submissive lover unfolds in an unexpected series of events.
Word count: 10.2k
Content warnings: smut, AFAB anatomy, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, pet names, slightly mean possessive Leon (only when he has to be), alcohol consumption, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil (like mentions/ use of weapons).
a/n: somewhere, deep in the void, this was intended to be about 2k words, just a little one shot... but now here we are, lol. anyways thank you guys for being so patient, and thank u to my besties on here for being so kind and understanding. life is crazy, and truly i cannot keep up as consistently as i’d like to. i will always be here, even if i take some long breaks here & there. i love all u resident evil obsessed freaks, my life wouldn’t be the same without u xx also i finally decided to not be lazy & do the cute colored letters i hope u enjoy hehe
— PART I —
You peered out the window as you were driven through the endless sprawl of the snow-covered French countryside. A blur of powdery white pines occasionally broken up by small villages nestled into the hills.
Behind all those tall trees were the ragged peaks of the hulking French Alps, so expansive they nearly cut the sky in half. The beauty and stillness of winter was in full effect. Every little village had plumes of warming smoke gathering above the chimneys.
The agent driving the car interrupted your silent musing over the scenery. "You'll have to hike in. It's about 5 miles to the village, but we can't risk getting too close."
With one hand still on the wheel, he reached for the center console, pulled out a large envelope, and tossed it in your lap.
"There you'll find the information you need. Your partner, Leon Kennedy, has been undercover, posing as one of them."
Your voice is monotone, almost disinterested. "And who's them?"
"Some parasite-infected blood suckers. Leon has described them as a vampiric blood cult or something."
"And I'm just expected to waltz into all this? A blood cult? Really?"
"He talked about having a lover, a woman he returned home to, and at the time, it was just banter to fit in with them. But the cultists want to meet her. Either they're getting suspicious, or they want to play ball. Regardless, this served as a rather interesting opportunity to give Leon backup. So here you are."
Your knuckle rests below your bottom lip; you watch as the sun begins its descent below the icy mountain peaks.
So here I am.
You and one of the few other survivors of Raccoon City. You've met him, sure, but you have yet to work alongside him. But, you'd always known the day would come.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
You were driven as far as the meandering forest service road would allow. Ahead of you, where the road was no more, towering evergreens had taken over. Their limbs were heavy with packed snow, creating a dense cover over the forest. Only a sliver of the remaining purple-tinted dusk made it through the trees.
"This is where you're on your own. Here are the coordinates for where you'll meet up. Just stay north until you find an abandoned barn. That's where he'll be."
You nod in understanding, equipping your array of weapons—a rifle on your back, a pistol on your hip, and a machete on the other.
"We'll have you out before the end of the week," the agent said, helping you put your pack on.
"I'll count my blessings," your face was solemn as you faced the trees, attempting to size up what lay ahead.
"Well then, you're set. The best of luck to you." a sympathetic smile formed on the agent's lips as he stepped back into the car.
Without hesitation, you departed into the cold, dark wilderness.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
Seven miles may not have been a lot for you, but Seven miles of trekking through uncharted backcountry in the dark of winter was. You were chilled to the bone, and the numbness of your limbs limited your mobility ten-fold.
The thick undergrowth of the forest only got denser as you progressed, and your machete-wielding arm throbbed with every strike.
You stumbled up an embankment. With every step, loose, powdery snow slipped underneath your winter boots. Each sharp breath you took appeared as mist, illuminated by your headlamp.
As you finally reached the crest of the hill, you spotted a dilapidated barn at the base. It was nestled underneath a skeletal weeping willow tree. As you moved closer, you noticed half of its roof had caved in. Just one billow of wind could send the thing toppling.
You made your way down the slope, encroaching on the barn. You pulled out your pistol and dimmed your headlamp just to be safe.
Focusing on sound, you surveyed the area for footsteps, rustling, or speaking.
There was not a peep to be heard. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind, the surrounding forest was eerily quiet.
The crunch of the snow under your boots was frustratingly loud as you circled the barn's perimeter, searching for traps.
To your surprise, you peeked through a frosty window and saw the dull glow of a lantern, and a man sat beside it.
He was bundled head to toe in fur-lined clothing similar to your own. His eyes flicked up, and they met with yours. Without speaking, he signaled you in.
You couldn't recall what he looked like, but you remember a distinctly boyish look despite him being around your age when the incident happened. But the person who stood before you was a lot different.
This man is rugged and muscular. His cheekbones are much more pronounced, and his pale blue eyes are set deep in their sockets. Gentle yet battle-hardened. All that boyishness has dissipated.
"Leon," he said, stretching a gloved hand toward yours.
You stuttered your name through shivering lips, your hand meeting Leon's in a firm shake.
His tactful eyes scanned you, assumedly noting how cold you were.
"We really should get going. I've been holed up in a cabin only a few miles from here."
"Gladly, I'm freezing my ass off."
Without any further small talk, Leon leads the way, setting out once again for the dark, unforgiving woods.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
"Make yourself comfortable; I'll get a fire going," Leon said, opening the door for you before heading back outside for firewood.
You threw your pack onto the ground beside the fireplace. The room was completely dark, except for the small path illuminated by your headlamp.
You fumbled a matchbook out of your pocket and started to light the myriad of taper candles around the cabin.
Warm candlelight flooded the room, illuminating the interior of the gothic-style cabin. It was constructed of dark, ashy wood—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and everything else.
Eclectic, mismatched carpets overlapped each other. And dark red curtains pooled along the ornate windows.
He called it a cabin, but the interior was rather grand.
Your heavy .22 caliber rifle had been digging into your back for hours, so you peeled it off with a relieving sigh. As you set it down on the wooden dining table, it made a hollow metallic clunk. You stripped off your other heavy layers onto the table, like your machete and belt, but kept on your fur-lined outerwear. Inside wasn't that much warmer.
With a heavy boot, Leon kicked open the front door, cradling wood in his forearms. With him, a gust of snow flurries blew into the cabin. He again kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the wood beside the fireplace.
"The snow is picking up again. You got here at the right time," Leon said, striking a match and tossing it into a pile of kindling inside the stone hearth.
You sit on a deep red Victorian-style couch in front of the fireplace. You sighed and kicked your boots up onto the coffee table.
"You call this place a cabin?" You say as your hand brushes the fine velvet upholstery of the couch.
"Well, when you see the rest of this village, you'll see why this place is considered just a cabin."
"These cultists must be the extravagant type then, huh?"
Leon piled wood onto the roaring fire, the crackling glow illumining his features. He stepped back from the heat and faced you, pulling off his heavy jacket. "Yeah, to say the least. They're greedy fuckers with bloodlines full of wealth. These gaudy homes just scratch the surface."
"So, now my real question is—how did you weasel your way in? How are you seriously posing as a cult member?" You stretched your shaky hands towards the fire, desperate for warmth. "You can't be serious that you, an American, just waltzed into a French village and are pretending to play cultist," you said with heavy speculation, your stern eyes meeting his.
Leon's lip ticked, calm eyes unbreaking from yours.
"They have plenty of outlets funneling within the United States, which gave us the perfect opening. We intercepted communications from a faction of theirs based in the States and used them as a bleed for information. Eventually, it was requested that they, we, send over a high-ranking nobility to come to France to one, act as a messenger, and two, be part of their transformation ritual."
"And that's where you came in?"
Leon's face went grave.
"Yeah, I trained to be and act like one of them. I learned every piece of information we know about this narcissistic vampire cult and its deviant religion. I've had to change everything about my life and thinking to be here. It's been months kissing ass in the hope of more information."
The room was becoming increasingly warm, and you started to feel claustrophobic in your winter clothing. You began to shed your layers of outerwear.
"That sounds awful. I can't believe you've made it out here, alone, for so long..." you paused for a moment but resumed, "but please, tell me that it has been worth it."
The question loomed thick in the air as you struggled with your boots, eventually kicking them off and walking to the fire to warm your cold, damp feet.
You could really get a good look at Leon here. He wore a tight black shirt that emphasized his muscular build and black cargo pants. His complexation looked soft against the warm firelight, juxtaposing the intensity of his prominent features.
He, too, seemed to be taking in your appearance as you sauntered toward the light. What he was thinking about was absolutely unknown, as he remained stone-faced.
"It has," he said, breaking the silence. "It has been worth it."
Leon's eyes drifted to his hands as if in a trance.
"What we now know about the cultists can completely change the course of this fight. But as I push forward, it's not going to be easy. I don't think this is going to end smoothly. That's why I needed backup." Leon cleared his throat. But there is a catch, too."
His eyes darted up to meet yours. You tensed, straightening your back, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.
"The king, that fucking king, wants me to bring my lover."
Although you were briefed on this situation prior, nothing could have prepared you for hearing it from him directly.
You laughed-- partly to ease the tension, but mainly because the mission-altering crux for the honored agent is his girlfriend.
"It's crazy, I know, but it couldn't be a more perfect invitation to bring another agent in." His cheeks flushed with the slightest hue of red.
"Please, tell me how you got into this situation in the first place". You tried to contain your laughter but failed.
Leon breathed an exasperated sigh.
"Well, the Lords, false prophets more like, banter about their romantic conquests. And well, after they all had drowned on about all the unsavory details, they looked at me, awaiting what story I had to tell."
"And what did you tell 'em?"
"I did what I had to do. I made up stories about having a girlfriend at home... And whatever else would keep them from asking too many questions."
You nodded.
"They also bring their women to the castle and flaunt them like furs. Sometimes, it's literally for their blood. Most of the time, it's just to stroke their own ego by having pretty women hanging off them." Leon added.
Of course, the power-hungry vampire kings saw women as conquests. Ultimately, it shouldn't surprising that it would come to this.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
It's been a long, long day.
You have all the information you need at this point, and the exhaustion is quickly overtaking you.
You yawn with outstretched arms, relaxing them to rub your heavy eyelids. Your body is finally warm, and you realize how well the bone-chilling cold kept you awake.
"I'll show you to your room," Leon said, helping you collect the things you dumped around the room. He led you down a darkened hallway to your bedroom.
"There are some clothes and a few other things you may need. If you need anything else, my room is just across the hall," he stated, setting your things down.
"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow?" You added before Leon could step out of the room.
"You'll have the day to adjust. We'll go over the mission then. Just focus on resting up for now."
His lips came to a subtle smile, "Goodnight."
You smiled back, "Goodnight to you too."
You surveyed the room, starting with the armoire. It was full of clothes that looked like they were from another time: grand dresses with sheer, lacy fabrics of black and red with low sweeping necklines. There was also a long black hooded cape, corsets, and tall-heeled boots. The drawers below housed underwear and pajamas.
You slipped off your dingy clothes for a long black strappy nightgown from the armoire.
You hid your weapons around the room, your rifle, machete, and extra ammo in the closet, your knives in the vanity, and your pistol tucked under the mattress.
Like the rest of the decor, the bed was ornate. It was intricately carved out of the same ashwood as the cabin. The white sheets were plush and soft to the touch.
After securing your room, you crawled into bed. Falling almost immediately into sleep.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
Blinding white winter's light singed your vision as you woke up in a panic, a persistent cracking noise echoed from outside. It was a splintering sound as if someone was trying to get in.
You stealthily crawled out of bed and cracked open the bedroom curtain to peer outside. Nothing of interest could be seen, only the quiet woods blanketed by fresh snow.
The woods were now illuminated by sunshine, making them appear significantly less intimidating than last night. That didn't make them any less haunting, though.
Pistol in hand, You tiptoed through the house in search of Leon. First, you knocked on his bedroom door, and when he didn't answer, you investigated the rest of the house.
There were no signs of Leon, only the smell of something cooking and the sound of that grating thudding noise echoing through the house.
You silently opened the front door and exited barefoot, the coldness of the snow against your skin sending shivers up your spine. The satin fabric of your nightgown offered no protection from the elements.
One step at a time, you sneaked around the side of the house. The thudding got louder with each pace, and your heartbeat raced with adrenaline.
Carefully, You rounded the corner to the source of the noise. Arms straight, gun drawn.
Leon's eyes, bewildered, raked your figure, and he huffed a laugh, "Good morning, super cop. You must be freezing."
He looked down the barrel of the gun before you put it down.
He was just chopping wood.
Clearly, your senses were on high alert. You felt embarrassed that something so trivial and ordinary ticked those mental alarms.
Defensively, you retorted, "Well, I'm not the one chopping wood in a creepy vampire town first thing in the morning! For God's sake, I thought someone was breaking in or attacking!" You huffed, crossing your arms, a once panicked stare turning to one of annoyance.
Leon dropped the axe in the snow, reaching for a large piece of wood.
"And coming outside, in the dead of winter, wearing only a nightgown would have made a difference?" Leon said with a smirk, but it dropped quickly as he again reached for the axe to chop another piece of wood.
"And a gun! You seemed to have missed that part, and what else was I supposed to do? Spend 10 minutes putting my gear on?" You argued with a pout. Muscles tensed as adrenaline melted away.
You were still waking up and not in the mood to argue. But yes, you definitely could have kicked ass in your pajamas.
"Okay, okay, I promise I'm done pestering you. Breakfast is on the stove. You should go eat."
Begrudgingly, you walked back inside, mumbling your frustrations to yourself. It's safe to say you're not a fan of rude awakenings.
While lounging on the couch, you ate the breakfast of eggs and bacon Leon had prepared. You flipped through your logbook, filling in everything that happened in the last 24 hours.
Leon opened the front door, shaking off his snow-covered clothing before entering. He'd been out there for hours, and it was evident in the sweat that lingered down the side of his forehead.
Standing in the foyer, Leon peeled off his brown fur-lined bomber jacket and casually pulled the sweat-drenched black t-shirt over his head.
You watched him from where you sat on the couch, a bit confused as he acted as if no one was around.
You got a glimpse of the toned plane that was his back. He stretched his arms out, unintentionally giving you a better view. He rolled out his sore shoulder blades for a moment, and you discreetly watched from the corner of your eye.
You stifled whatever the fuck that feeling was and resumed your logbook.
In an attempt to find some grievance, you cleared your throat. It was subtle enough not to seem suspicious but clear enough that Leon definitely heard you.
But you're sure he was aware of you the entire time.
Leon walked toward the hallway and said, "I have a business to take care of at the castle; when I get back, we'll go over what's expected for the mission tomorrow. You'll find the notebook I've kept about these people on the bookshelf. You should skim it to familiarize yourself."
He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your reply. The only sound was the door shutting behind him.
Leon had left to take care of his end of the mission, and you remained alone in the cabin for the rest of the day.
You bathed and changed into real clothes, skipping over the elaborate dresses in favor of the spare black jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt you packed.
You left your bedroom to head to the living room but stopped at Leon's door adjacent to yours.
You were curious about what his room looked like, and rightfully so. He was rather serious, not letting off much about his personal side. Even while working, other agents, like Jill Valentine, had more outward displays of self-identity.
You wondered what the man behind the agent's identity was like, But you respectfully kept walking.
Typically, you're not overly curious about your cohorts, But people like Leon and Jill lived through the same tragedy you did. You often felt alone in your pain, But you found a sliver of comfort in knowing that you, in fact, were not.
You flipped through the very detailed notes Leon had taken. He explained the parasite they intended to use for "world domination," the pecking order amongst the rulers, detailed maps of the castle, and whatever else he found out.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
"Hey, wake up," Leon said gently, nudging your shoulder.
You woke up sitting on the floor, arms crossed and body hunched over the coffee table.
Through blurry vision, you saw Leon beside you, wearing a fancy white dress shirt and a tie loose around his neck.
"What time is it?" You mumbled, sitting up to stretch out your very numb legs.
"Late—I got back about an hour ago, I made dinner if you're hungry."
Leon reached out a hand, and you took it. Grunting as he helped you up.
"Yeah, I am," You replied, your stomach grumbling.
You sat at the dining table with Leon. He prepared grilled veggies and chicken for dinner, which was surprisingly good.
"How'd it go," you asked between bites.
"Fine, everything is going according to plan. We're all set for tomorrow," Leon replied,
"What exactly are we doing tomorrow?" you raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sure you saw those dresses in your room. You'll have to wear one, but it's easy from there. You'll stay quiet and follow my lead. You'll have to act like my girlfriend. But it will also be a good time to familiarize yourself with the castle and, you know, memorize the layout."
Leon took a sip of wine and offered you a gentle look, "Are you okay with that?"
You replied, "Of course I am. It's a pretty small price to pay to take these fuckers down." You flashed a cheeky grin before taking a sip of your wine. "We got this."
You continued to talk over dinner, going back and forth and sharing each other's backgrounds. You told Leon about your experience in Raccoon City— what had happened and how you'd escaped it.
But for you, It was surreal hearing about Leon's involvement in the incident. Hearing about the people he saved, the enemies he took down, and the sacrifices he made were… Comforting.
Comforting to know someone else could actually relate to you.
Comforting to know there is hope.
You know there are scars deep below the surface—you know that from experience. But meeting someone who still cares so much about helping others proves that those wounds do, in fact, heal.
You and Leon cleaned up the kitchen before saying goodnight and heading to your rooms for the night.
You lay in your plush bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is whirring with a frenzy of emotions. Your conversation with Leon is still sinking in. The nerves concerning tomorrow's mission stake their claim.
It's okay. It's okay.
You try to soothe yourself. Suppress whatever unreconciled emotions were brought up.
Just finish the mission.
— PART II —
A beautifully lavish Victorian-style ball gown adorned your body. It has a flowing tiered skirt constructed from deep, blood-red satin. The bodice was corseted tightly to your abdomen, pushing your breasts up so that they are nearly spilling out of the gown's low square neckline. The quarter sleeves fit tightly but poof out at your elbows with frilly lace. The whole ensemble is accented with black bows and delicate lacework.
You watched yourself in the vanity mirror as you carefully pinned your hair up. Enchanted by the unfamiliar person the mirror reflected back.
This wasn't you. But a princess.
A princess who has never killed or witnessed the mass extinction of innocent people. A princess who didn't have to give up her normal life against her will.
Although seeing yourself dressed up like the beautiful person you'll never be was strange. But maybe, battle-scarred government agents could wear pretty dresses, sometimes.
With your hair set in place, you head to the living room, where you are met by Leon in an equally uncharacteristic outfit.
He took in your appearance, a smile decorating his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.
You filled the silence instead. "You look nice." You spoke softly.
He did look nice.
Leon wore a billowy white shirt with ruffles along the neckline. The plunging neckline had a small corset-style detail, and it was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted black trousers.
Simple, but effectively good-looking. The fit of his clothes came off as rich and a little romantic. Well suited for a band of vampires.
"As do you," Leon said, voice deep and restricted.
You hid your face by looking down at your shoes, concealing the growing flush along your cheeks. "Thank you." You said in almost a whisper.
"Are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to you.
You nod in affirmation and thread your arm through his.
Leon led you through a little stone path through the woods. At this time, it was only about an hour before dusk.
The combination of winter woods and the near-setting sun created an image of beautiful calm. If you were to let your mind wander, It would feel like you were on a date, taking a stroll through the forest.
"I told you these cultists were sick bastards, right?" Leon said too casually.
You nod, "Yes, you definitely mentioned that."
The dense woods begin to clear, and the path leads to a small village. At the horizon, the pointed spikes of a grand castle make a lethal appearance. You take it all in, honing yourself into a covert weapon. Descending into this "character" of unexpected harm.
"And you understand that how I'll behave tonight is all a part of the act?" Leon asks for your assurance one last time before entering the village.
Your heels land on the cobblestone that had been cleared of snow. The warm glow of the town's candlelight radiates as the sun begins to set.
Making brief eye contact with a villager, you squeeze Leon's arm a little tighter and murmur, "I could say the same to you, my lord." A wicked smile now painted your face.
Leon whispered lowly, "Glad to see you're committed to the bit."
As a pair, you two walked through the town's main pathway, a straight shot to the looming castle ahead. You noted that the townspeople were off.
Very, very off.
They behaved more like mindless zombies than people; their eyes glowed crimson red. Most of them just walked by idly, with no sense of purpose. Others stood hauntingly still, staring at you so intensely you felt it in your soul.
Even the farm animals that lingered on the streets were off. They walked erratically, and their eyes glowed, too.
This place gave you the creeps. Typical Umbrella.
Reaching the castle at last— It demanded your attention with its many oversized spires and massive arched windows. Light flowed red through the stained glass, adding to its intensity.
The snow-covered graveyard and cross-tipped spires informed you this wasn't just a castle but an unholy cathedral.
You had to walk through the graveyard to reach the entrance. You noted the tombstones engraved with outdated French names and dates as far back as the 1800s. It all added to the ancient terror surrounding the looming cathedral.
Upon arriving, the massive arched door began to creak open, and a man clad in a dark red suit greeted the two of you with a thick French accent. "Good evening, Sir Kennedy. We are so very pleased that you and your-" he paused, a sly smile forming, "madame, could make it."
Leon did not reply to the doorman.
He walked past with his head held high and eyes peering downwards. His look emanated superiority as if he had no interest in conversation with a man so far below him.
Leon grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, guiding you up the curved stairs that dominated the foyer.
You passed servants who wore simple, white, floor-length dresses with aprons and bonnets. Each servant stopped in their tracks to bow their head as you, he, walked past.
The action sent chills down your spine.
What was the true extent of power he reached in this so-called monarchy?
You arrived at a grand arched doorway swirled with ornamental gold detailing. Two men opened the doors in unison, letting you through.
Elegant music flooded the huge open ballroom. Orchestral pianos and violins serenaded your ears.
People waltzed, people drank wine, people talked, and the vampires watched.
On the dais, the looming darkness of men sitting on ornate thrones watched the every move of the people below.
Every seat was occupied except for one.
Everything suddenly stopped. The music went silent, and the people parted, bowing their heads down.
Slowly, you two approached the dais, Standing hand in hand at the steps. The man who sat in the centermost seat smiled devilishly. "Glad you could make it, Lord Kennedy." His French accent was thick.
Leon bowed his head. "Of course, your majesty."
"Why would you want to miss a ball as extravagant, as special, as this one, anyways? Lord Kennedy, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guest, wouldn't we?"
The Lord ticked an eyebrow, reaching a pale, lanky hand to you.
Leon's breath seized but quickly relaxed as he let go of your hand, hinting for you to accept.
You gracefully walked the steps, rhythmically breathing in and out to offset the heavy heartbeat that accompanied each step. The air loomed cold and silent as the echoes of your footsteps filled the hall.
The King was pale as fresh snow, with icy blue veins protruding from his skin. His eyes were glowing red, and long black hair cascaded down his shoulders to his chest. He wore an ornate gold, black, and red suit and a crown topped his head. He looked as if he was once very handsome, but now, he is not so good-looking.
You rested your hand on him, avoiding eye contact. His freezing touch sent a shiver through you.
The King lowered his head and placed a prolonged kiss on the back of your hand. His left hand grabbed your upper arm, turning it so your wrist faced upward. He ran his fingers down your arm, resting on your wrist. A devilish grin formed on his thin lips, presumably from the pleasure in whatever he found in you.
His head raised, but his hand remained fixed on your wrist. You made eye contact this time. His gleaming eyes burrowing into yours.
You could feel your hot blood running against his cold touch. Your pulse filled the silence of the too-quiet ballroom. You wanted to run, but not without a fight, and get out of this Umbrella Corporation daymare.
"Ma chérie," he whispered into your skin.
There is no running. No fighting. Today, you must pretend.
Leon stood beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his eyes dark, looking down at the still-seated King.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Leon asked rhetorically, a bite in his tone.
The Lord laughed, releasing your hand.
"No need to be so overbearing, Leon. N'aie pas peur. Please sit and join your fellow nobility."
The last empty chair was his. You scanned the other taken thrones. Some of the men were already turned, marked distinctively by glowing, crimson eyes and a lifeless complexion.
Although some, like Leon, had not yet been turned.
From your reading the previous day, you learned that in the eyes of the cult immortality was a privilege, not a right. They believed one must earn that privilege by dedicated service to the organization before even being considered.
Leon took a seat, relaxing on his throne. You stood beside him awkwardly, not entirely knowing what to do. But, with a tap at your side, you figured it out.
You perched on Leon's lap, your billowy dress flowing over his legs and spilling like blood onto the marble floor. He wrapped a hand around your corseted abdomen, and the other rested in your lap.
Your heart raced a little harder.
"You must be in need of a drink." The King asked.
"Some music would be nice, too," Leon said with a scoff loud enough for musicians on the floor to hear.
The music resumed, and again, the bowing people began dancing. Still, it was finally replaced by the movement and energy of song and dance.
One of the white dress servants arrived with two glasses full of red wine upon a silver platter. Leon made no effort to grab them, so you took them both, passing one off to him.
Leon pressed his lips up to your ear, "drink up, baby," he whispered.
You almost forgot— even your whispers could be herd by the immortal's keen hearing. Every thing that was said, even in a murmur, had to be in line.
It was strange to hear him talk like that, but admittedly you weren't bothered. Although the closeness was unexpected, It's been a long time since you were this close to someone. It had been a year? Maybe two? Since you were at all intimate with another person.
It felt good. He radiated warmth, his touch was gentle, and his handsomeness unmatched.
You downed your glass while Leon sipped on his. His scanning eyes watched the crowd, occasionally flickering back to the King but always ending on you.
He admired as your painted lips caressed the edge of the fine crystal wine glass and how your throat bobbed with each drink.
He called for a refill and demanded more, which the servants promptly fulfilled, And they kept it coming. After every glass you two emptied, they refilled.
Amongst themselves, Leon and the vampire Lords talked about courtly business. and as they talked, Leon's large hands ran down your leg, pulling up your skirt, and exposing up to your knee.
They were talking about war, and all rather intense subject matters. But Leon's hand kept working higher up your legs. Petting and caressing every bit of exposed skin. The King couldn't look away, neither could the other lords, or even the people below.
He used you as a spectacle, to assert his dominance, and power over the rest of the court, and it worked. The commoners were afraid of him, and the lords respected him. He mastered the facade of villainous superiority that belittled all in its path. One that possessed his lover entirely and wanted the world to know it.
His lavish touch across your legs, mixed with the headiness of the wine, brought you to a euphoric state. Coaxed by his affection, you can't help but submit.
Your back arched into his abdomen, yearning for more touch. You could not recall any of the words spoken around you, only the ecstasy of his lips meeting your neck. A soft whisper of a kiss was all he gave you, but your breathing hitched, and your body heated.
You were damned. Damned for liking it as much as you did.
He paused for a moment. Only a minute's break in time, and he still left you internally begging like a dog.
"My, my, what a statement you're making, Lord Kennedy. You plan on sharing?" The King taunted, practically drooling at your bare, pawing legs.
You spoke for the first time the entire night, causing every member of the court's head (that wasn't already) to turn.
"No."
You shot an arrow through the King's fragile pride.
The King's lip twitched. "What a defiant whore you managed to fish up."
Leon laughed, grinning wildly, "Oh, well, you should see how well she obeys me." He patted your thigh in approval, placing an absolutely panty-drenching kiss along your neck.
The King rolled his eyes, but lords couldn't hide their amusement as they stifled back laughter.
Leon rested his knuckle under your chin, "Go on, my love, apologize."
The King retorted snappily, "There's no need for that."
Thank God.
You took an extra large drink of wine to ease the tension, falling back into Leon's warm chest.
They continued on as if nothing ever happened, talking about things you knew nothing about.
Leon listened, cool and aloof, but his hands satiated your need. He resumed the game of inching higher up your leg. His warm fingers trace dizzying circles along your inner thigh.
His calloused fingers felt rough and masculine against your velvet soft skin. He squeezed your thigh, accidentally eliciting a lusty whimper from you.
"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" Leon's breath grazed along your neck, his lips taunting you mere centimeters away from your bare skin.
You pressed your back into the hardness of his body, a needy and desperate attempt for more—more of his lavish touch. You didn't even care who saw.
You turned a cheek, sharing Leon's darkened, sultry gaze. The usual warmth in his pale blue eyes was totally vacant. He observed you like prey, nothing more than a deer in the crosshairs.
The hand that rested on your waist dragged up to your face and cupped your jaw, his thumb petting your lip, transferring your red lipstick to his skin.
His grip on your thigh intensified, digging hard into your skin. Your lips parted with a soft gasp, and your legs opened wider in response to his touch.
Hunter and hunted.
Leon bit his lip as he slid his finger into your mouth. Your lips puckered pretty around his finger, and Leon watched in feral attraction as you teased him with the tip of your tongue. You oozed confidence and sultry submission, letting your doe eyes do the talking.
The lines between the act and reality truly blurred.
The way he touched you felt too real, too right. You craved more than just the teasing.
As if in an answer, Leon's hands migrated lower and lower down your abdomen. Finally, working to where you craved most. But, he couldn't find the proof of how good he made you feel. Your soaking wet underwear would be damning to your case.
In a desperate attempt, you arched your back, attempting to pull yourself away from his wandering touch. In turn, you could feel the unmistakable hardness in his pants pressing against your back.
Oh, he wanted you too. At this stage, you both should just be condemned.
The on-lookers watched from below as you pressed into Leon's length. You ground yourself against him. Your skin glowed with sweat, and strands of hair were falling from your updo and swept around your face.
There were no secrets in the way you felt; you practically radiated sex, intimacy, and everything in between.
One of Leon's hands dragged up your body and grasped your ribcage directly under your breast. The other rested on your collarbones. He pulled your ear to his lips and whispered, "Don't let it go to your head."
You swallowed, heart racing. "What?"
Leon's arrogant grin now pressed against your ear. "That every man in this room is imagining themselves in my place. Don't forget that you belong to me, darling."
"I would never-" You were cut short by Leon's grip tightening around your abdomen.
"Don't patronize me," he demanded, but his white-knuckle grip loosened and transformed into apologetic strokes down your side.
"Yes, my lord." Sweet and submissive.
The King seemed to approve, as marked by an appraising nod he shared with Leon.
A servant walked by, head hung low, and Leon's voice cracked like thunder. "Wine, now." Pure demand in his voice.
You drank the seemingly bottomless glasses of wine Leon ordered. You should have stopped, but you drank on to avoid any unfavorable conversations.
Tonight, you learned that French vampires love to drink.
The night grew late-- You, Leon, and the other Lords were drunker than sailors. Conversations of importance were divulged into off-topic chit-chat and banter. The people below slow-danced to the soft ballads that hummed through the castle.
It was a struggle to stay awake. All the wine, the music, the expectations, the teasing. It tired you out. Your head lay in Leon's chest, soaking up his sent-- Open sky and rugged woods. Your dainty hands gracefully stroked his exposed chest, painting little circles, occasionally your hands reached up to play with his pretty blonde hair. Leon languidly stroked your arm, head resting lazily to the side.
Leon sat up, shifting you with him, and cleared his throat, "My king, It's been a pleasure, but we should head back now."
"Why don't you just say the night? I would hate to see your poor madame walk all the way back to your... Maison, this late."
You and Leon exchanged a look; you weren't exactly sure if he had accounted for this in his plan. Your eyebrows threaded together, a look of annoyance and confusion, but Leon quickly turned away.
"What a hospitable offer, your highness." He responded eloquently. He knew that someone who was actually in his place would never reject an offer like that.
"It's the least I can do for you, Lord Kennedy; after all, you've been so dedicated to our cause." A sly villain-like smirk formed on the King's lips.
Leon politely bowed his head in acknowledgment.
The King snapped his fingers, and without an exchange of words, a servant was at the throne you and Leon shared.
You both stood up and followed her, hand in hand.
You passed by the other Lords still seated along the dais. Their prowling eyes raked your body as you walked by. Leon was right; you were in everyone's minds. Stripped bare and doing unspeakable things to them.
It repulsed you to be thirsted over by depraved vampire lords, but in some sacrilegious facet of your mind, you were flattered by it. You even walked in a way that accentuated your hips, teasing them just a little more.
You were just passing the King's throne when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. It was the King who had implored his icy hand around your arm, pulling you into him. You gasped as he bent you over the armrest of his throne and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Bonne nuit, ma chérie" He whispered in your ear.
He activated your desire to fight back; you wanted to place your hands around the scrawny King's neck and kill him right there. You could without any resistance, too.
But, you suppressed your urge. Sweet and submissive, you told yourself. You already got yourself in enough trouble with your previous stunt, best not to ruin it now.
"Goodnight, your Highness," you muttered back as dainty and feminine as you could manage.
The King released you, and as you took a step back, you were in Leon's chest; his arms were quick to wrap around you, like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess.
As you left the dais, the people of the ballroom once again stopped dancing, and bowed as you and Leon walked through, escorted by the servant.
She showed you to your room, opened the door, bowed, and left promptly.
The room was entirely white and gold, similar in design to the rest of the castle, but featuring a giant bed in the middle of the room with a canopy of pooling gauzy fabric.
"What are we supposed to do now?" you whispered once the door was closed behind you.
Leon rubbed the temples of his forehead as if he had a headache, "I'm not sure. I didn't expect him to want us to stay the night."
You looked around the room, unsure of what to do now. "Should we escape?"
Leon peaked his head out the window, surveying the area, "That's an option, but risky," he muttered. "It would blow our cover when they inevitably found us gone. The plan was to kill the nobility a few days from now, on the full moon. That's when they're planning on turning one of the human lords immortal."
"Why does it have to be then? Can't it just be now? They're all drunk and lounging around, for God's sake!" You accidentally raised your voice, and Leon shushed you by pressing his finger to your lips.
"When they turn someone immortal, they have to use the parasite... The plan is to steal the parasite during the ceremony and then kill them. We need to bring it back to America so it can be studied.
But, I haven't been able to find where they store them; as far as I'm aware, only the King knows. That's why I've been waiting for the ceremony."
"So... We stay?" you said defeatedly.
"Unfortunately."
You looked around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the various drawers throughout. Everything was empty except for the Holy Bible in a desk drawer.
"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Leon offered kicking off his boots before sitting on the small white and gold couch.
"That couch is so small, you can have the bed." You tried to negotiate.
"No, no, it's all yours. I've slept on much worse than this." He said, stretching his legs out along the couch. It was too short for him, so his feet dangled off the armrest.
You sighed; there's no point in arguing.
"Well, I can't sleep in this dress. It weighs about 20lbs, and it's too damn hot."
"There was no spare clothes?" Leon asked.
"Nope."
Leon looked around the room, eyebrows stitched together in thought, before he resolved, "You can have my shirt."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, It's no trouble at all, really."
Leon remained where he was on the couch, eyes closed.
You stood on the other side of the room, fumbling with the corseting on your dress, unable to unlace it. "How the hell did I even get this on earlier?" you mumbled to yourself.
Leon's eyes perked open, watching you struggle. He cleared his throat, "Do you need help with that?"
You didn't answer but still struggled.
Leon took it upon himself to help you. He walked over and began unlacing the many rows of tight lacing along the back of your dress.
"Thank you," you said so very quietly.
"I wanted to apologize for earlier, I—"
You cut him off, "Don't—You don't have to apologize. I understand, truly."
Silence loomed over the room, and only the sound of fabric rustling filled the void. You tried to find the right words to say, but you came up empty-handed.
Leon reached the last eyelet, and you held the gown at the bust so it wouldn't fall off. Although you admittedly wouldn't mind if it did.
Your back was entirely exposed to him, only inches away from pressing against his chest. Your mind slipped— what if you took a step back? Let him do what you want him to do. Let him explore your body even more than he did earlier.
His strong hands could surely do a lot, and his pretty blonde hair would look great between your legs—
God damn.
Leon broke your silent daydream by taking off his white-ruffled shirt. He handed it off to you at your side, gentlemen-like.
He meandered back to the couch, resuming his position of outstretched legs along the cushions, closing his eyes.
You checked over your shoulder to ensure his eyes were closed, and then you let your dress fall to the ground.
You dawned Leon's shirt. The cottony fabric felt soft against your skin and smelled overwhelming like him, rugged and masculine.
In the mirror, you watched yourself let down your updo, letting your hair fall and combing it out with your fingers. Here is where you noticed that Leon's shirt is just a little too sheer.
The outline of your silhouette was vaguely noticeable through his airy shirt, but your nipples were definitely visible.
Oh well.
You folded up the gown and placed it at the foot of the bed atop the quilted velvet ottoman. You were about to get into bed before peaking one more glance at Leon.
He was statuesque in the way his body stretched along the couch. He had a hand atop his very defined abs, and his other arm dangled off the couch.
The faint blueish hue of the moon illuminated him in gentle light, it was the only light in the room, save for the single lit candle next to the bed.
Leon was so pretty in the way he slept. He looked so at peace, so beautiful, and so kissable.
It pained you to not invite him to your bed; maybe in another lifetime, you would have.
But you certainly could not let him sleep without a blanket or a pillow.
You peeled off the first blanket layer of your bed, grabbed one of the many over-filled pillows, and tiptoed to where Leon rested.
Gently, you set a folded blanket on the foot of Leon's bed, causing him to open his eyes.
"What are you doing?" Leon's mumble trailed off into a yawn.
You whispered, "I don't want you to get cold, so I'm giving you some of my blankets."
Leon smiled faintly. "Oh, I see…" he trailed off and then added, "Thanks for that."
You looked pretty; your hair and makeup were a mess but in all the right ways.
Leon noticed how pretty you were. How pretty you were in his shirt, with nothing else underneath.
"I hope this is enough for you."
"Yes, it's more than enough," he reassured.
"I'm going to head to my bed then, goodnight Leon."
He didn't show it, and you would never know it, but he loved how you said his name.
"Goodnight to you, too."
In that moment, time stood still. You couldn't walk away. You wanted to bask in the shared space of each other's gazes, bound by lust. Leon, too, made no attempt to break away.
You'll probably regret it later, but there is no harm in trying, right?
Instead of leaving, you bent down as if to pick something up, but you stopped when you reached his ear.
"Leon..." You whispered quietly.
"Yes?"
Your heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest. "Do you really want me to go?"
Leon paused, raking his mind for the correct answer. "No."
He turned his head, pressing his forehead to yours, and resting his hand on the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.
"I didn't want to either," you said breathily.
He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss you shared. It felt like a wave of warmth crashing down your body, every one of your instincts telling you yes. His lips were soft and gentle against your own.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Leon whispered into the kiss.
You replied, "Me neither."
Leon pulled you by your waist, sitting you on top of him, and deepened the kiss by grazing his tongue against yours. He tasted purely of wine.
Your hands ran desperately through Leon's hair as his hands caressed your ribcage down to your hips. His grasp settled onto your waist, stroking his thumbs along your ribs. You playfully bit his lip, praising the way he touched you.
Leon's lips broke away from yours, and they began to press small kisses down your cheek, and then your neck, and then your chest. Every single one felt like pure ecstasy against your skin.
Your arms wrapped around Leon's neck as you arched your back, pressing your chest deeper into his kiss. His grasp along your waist tightened with your movement.
He was aching and so hard in the confined trousers he still wore; Leon rocked you against himself while he made out with your chest.
You moaned with gasping breaths at the feeling of him rutting into you, your head falling back carelessly.
Leon's hand met the spots he kissed, dancing along the wet skin of your chest. His wandering fingers teased the outer edge of the shirt you wore, wanting to pull it down. His lips followed down the V of the shirt, But before he could do anything more, you raised your arms, slipping the shirt over your head.
You were entirely exposed to him, save for your underwear. Leon thanked you by pressing kisses along your pretty breasts, thumbs twirling around your hardened nipples. His lips met where his thumbs danced, puckering his lips around your nipples, stroking and sucking them with his tongue.
You gasped, nearly at the edge of becoming undone. Leon worshipped your breasts like his own personal deity, letting out low, strained moans.
You lost all sense of control, grinding yourself into Leon's bulging lap, getting off at the sensation of his cock twitching for you.
"More," You moaned as Leon released the suck on your nipple with a wet-sounding smack.
You pressed down on Leon's chest, pushing him into the couch.
God, you looked so lovely and desperate from Leon's perspective.
Your hands slipped between your legs, resting on the bulge that strained between them. You caressed him through the fabric, teasing him with a pouty smirk.
Leon's mouth gaped slightly, sucking in a breath as he watched you adore him. You nimbly unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper.
Leon sat up and pushed you back so your legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, picking you up with ease, and walked you to the bed, gently resting you onto the fortress of overstuffed pillows.
He took off his trousers before joining you, his protruding cock making a tent in his underwear.
"You're beautiful," Leon fawned at your figure before bending down to kiss your thighs. "I loved touching your legs earlier, darling," he added.
You're fully melting at his sugar-covered affections.
You sat up, taking Leon's head in your delicate hands with a devouring kiss. You pulled him back, so he laid on top of you. One of his arms embraced you, and the other brushed between your legs.
His fingers toyed with you, sweetly caressing you through your soaked underwear. You moaned into the kiss as Leon began tracing small circles over the fabric. His hands then nuzzled beneath your underwear, meeting your aching sex fully.
His calloused fingers lapped your cunt, but ended on your clit, circling it gently. You broke from his kiss, head arching back from the intensity of pleasure you felt. Leon licked his lips as he watched you fold under him. Leon tugged off your underwear, deepening your pleasure as he rubbed his fingers around your opening.
Your hands, in desperate need of touch, caressed the expanse of Leon's amazingly defined torso. It alone killed you, the sheer strength he possessed. He was trained into a lethal weapon, but man, did he feel so good.
From Leon's torso, you ventured lower, tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Leon's gaze met your begging doe eyes, pleading him for more.
With your help, he pulled off his underwear, releasing his pretty, throbbing cock. Your hand softly wrapped around his length, petting him slowly. Leon's breath hitched as you did so.
You wrapped a leg around Leon's waist, pulling yourself up to straddle him. Perched on his lap, you rested your soaking cunt onto the length of his cock. Leon's hands dug into your hips, grinding his himself against your folds.
"Leon," you gasped, soaking in the feeling of him beneath you.
He moaned, hungrily watching the way your bodies met.
He sat up, pressing his chest against your stomach, and pressed kisses along your breasts. As he did so, he lifted you up by the waist, giving himself just enough space to push his length into you.
Loudly, you whimpered as his length filled your entire cunt. You bounced yourself on Leon as he sucked your nipples.
Leon released you from his mouth, lying back down, fingers digging into your upper thighs as he fucked himself into you hard. Letting his entire length fill you up before pulling back.
You couldn't help your hopeless cries and moans as his pace picked up, fucking you like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.
You were a few forceful pumps away from reaching your peak, and as you forced yourself into him even deeper, Leon lifted you up by the waist, off of him.
Dazed, you whined, "Why."
He only responded by nudging you over onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide for himself.
Leon's cock pressed at your entrance while his hand toyed with your clit, teasing you. He so very slowly pushed himself in, making you feel every inch of his length as he entered you.
"Just like that," he hushed under a moan and then rammed his cock into you, building up speed, fucking you faster and faster.
Your nails dug into the bed sheets, reaching for something that does not exist. Leon smacked your ass with a deep moan as his tip reached even deeper inside of you.
The only noise filling the room was the sound of your skin clapping against his and your shared feverish moans.
"You feel so good," you cooed, pawing at the sheets. "I don't think I can last much longer."
He slowed down his pace, pulling his cock almost entirely out of you before inching himself back in. "You can last just a little longer for me, pretty girl."
"Okay, yes, please just fuck me harder," you pleaded. Grinding yourself on his length, desperate for more than he was giving.
"Well, since you asked so nicely," Leon groaned and fucked you so hard that the bed was shaking back and forth. His arm reached up from behind, grasping your neck in his hand. He was hunched over you, fingers squeezing your jaw as he plunged deeper and faster.
His teeth were clenched, and his breath was fast as he burrowed his throbbing cock so far into your cunt that you came completely undone, crying his name as you rode your climax out.
"Leon, Leon, Leon," you cried as your wetness dripped down his leg.
Leon's breath seized as he pulled himself out of you, resting his cock on the small of your back, spilling hot all over your skin.
His grasp loosened, trailing down your neck. His head rested on your back, reeling himself back from his climax.
You rested your body, splaying yourself along the bed. Leon got off of you and frantically looked around the room for something to wipe your back with. He settled on the blanket you had left for him on the couch, thinking to himself, their problem, not mine.
"Thanks," you giggled as he cleaned you off.
He crawled into bed, tucking into the massive billowy covers, and you did the same. You blew out the single candle next to the bedside, leaving only moonlight to douse the room.
Leon opened up his arm, beckoning you into his embrace.
You cuddled him, soaking up his scent and his warmth. All while relishing in the tingling euphoria your body felt.
"Goodnight, for real?" Leon said quietly, sleep heavy in his voice.
"Goodnight, for real, Leon." Your heavy lids shut, falling into sleep.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
You wake up on Leon's chest to a knock at the door. The morning sun singed the pounding headache induced by last night's wine-filled activities.
Leon woke up, too, wincing and rubbing his temples. He got out of bed, pulling on his underwear and pants.
Leon's hair was a disheveled mess, and the remnants of your lipstick still stained his neck and his cheek. He answered the door to one of the servants standing there.
She bowed, her thick French accent trembling. "Lord Kennedy, I apologize if I interrupted, but the king wants a word with you."
"Can you show me to the bath first? You can't seriously expect me to talk to him looking like this?" he sounded harsh, and you almost forgot about the character he had to play.
Her voice trembled. "Yes, of course, sir. Not that you look bad, but yes, I'll show you to the bath."
"And her too," the servant peaked her head through the doorway, under the arm that Leon propped himself up with, and saw you, sitting up in bed, covering your naked body with the duvet.
She immediately ducked back in line, "Yes, of course." she bowed her head once more.
Leon tossed you his shirt, which was lying on the ground beside the couch. Quickly put it on, and with a motion of his hand, Leon summoned you to him.
You acted shy, meekly hiding behind Leon.
"Follow me, My lord," The servant hushed, trailing you two down the hallway.
As you tiptoed down the hall, you were barefoot and more exposed than you cared to be. It felt slightly embarrassing, but there was no point in caring now, was there? At least you found amusement in a shirtless Leon.
The servant guided Leon to a bathroom for himself. She signaled him in with her hand while her head was low.
Before he entered, he added, looking down at the servant. "And get her a new dress, she can't go out looking like that... And she wouldn't be caught dead wearing her evening dress during the day, would she?" Leon sounded like an absolute asshole, but that was somehow amusing.
"Yes, my lord," She bowed for the 100th time.
He entered the bathing room, closing the door behind him, and the servant showed you to another bathroom.
── ･ ｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──
You bathed in a massive clawfoot tub, sweet floral soap washing off all the makeup and memories of last night.
You were not sure how to even feel about last night. You'd never slept with a coworker before; you barely sleep with anyone anymore. Is this going to make things awkward when you leave? Or are you to pretend nothing happened at all?
A servant knocked on the door, interrupting your silent pondering before letting herself in. She quietly hung a pretty cream-colored Victorian gown hanging behind the door.
"Madame, Lord Kennedy is speaking with the King. He has asked you to wait while they finish up. We prepared breakfast for you in the dining room in case they go long. When you're ready, the dining room is down the stairs and to the left."
Who are you kidding, there are more pressing issues ahead; you're bathing and being fed in a vampire cult's castle for God's sake.
"Thank you," you said sweetly.
The servant promptly left the bathroom with a bow.
Soon, you will eliminate these vile creatures and leave. You just have to tough it out a little longer. One more day of acting like a mild-tempered little plaything, and this will all be over.
part two coming soon xx
#thank you for reading <3#i've been so nervous to post this eek#i hope you like it#academy fics✨#throne of his own#leon kennedy#resident evil#leon kennedy smut#resident evil smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon resident evil#leon kennedy fanfic
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"A god should know, where all her dragons are."
I've seen plenty of discussion about how it's shitty of Erzsebet and Drolta to refer to Olrox as a dragon, because Quetzalcoatl isn't really a dragon, but it's like... Extra shitty on other levels?
I mean, this quote is already somethin' because dragon or not, she's referring to him as hers and just making it clear that she does not intend to afford him any agency in this """partnership""".
But I keep Having Thoughts ™ about the role and symbolism of dragons in European folklore.
In the most general sense, they represent power. In a lot of these stories, the dragon is an obstacle between the heroic protagonist and some kind of secret treasure or knowledge (Wealth! Land!). Or the dragon is terrorizing a nearby village (Never mind if the 'dragon' was there first!!). Or the dragon is unfairly hoarding riches it has no use for (don't worry, the colonizers will show the 'primitive savages' how to make the most of their land!! Isn't that nice of them??)
In these stories, it's up to the hero to eliminate this obstacle that's separating them from some resource they feel entitled to, or to 'tame' it and exploit its power for their own purposes. As such, they're pretty on-the-nose colonialist propaganda when viewed under the right lens.
So I wanna talk about The Golden Legend of Saint George and The Dragon, which is one of the most famous of these stories.
Story goes: There's a dragon who's been terrorizing a nearby village. The people start offering the dragon livestock to appease it, and when they run out of livestock, they start holding a regular lotteries to sacrifice one unlucky person to the dragon.
St George shows up before the next person (king's daughter) is about to be eaten, and he doesn't kill the dragon, no. He dominates it:
S. George was upon his horse, and drew out his sword and garnished him with the sign of the cross, and rode hardily against the dragon which came towards him, and smote him with his spear and hurt him sore and threw him to the ground. And after said to the maid: Deliver to me your girdle, and bind it about the neck of the dragon and be not afeard. When she had done so the dragon followed her as it had been a meek beast and debonair.
*(debonair in the archaic sense = gentle)
Erzsebet makes it clear that if she can't be worshipped, being feared is the next best thing. She can't get Olrox to ally with her willingly, so she resorts to force. In the end, she's getting what she really wants: obedience and subservience. For him to follow her like a meek beast.
The Golden Legend doesn't stop there though:
Then she led [the dragon] into the city, and the people fled by mountains and valleys, and said: Alas! alas! we shall be all dead. Then S. George said to them: Ne doubt ye no thing, without more, believe ye in God, Jesu Christ, and do ye to be baptized and I shall slay the dragon. Then the king was baptized and all his people, and S. George slew the dragon and smote off his head, and commanded that he should be thrown in the fields, and they took four carts with oxen that drew him out of the city.
A couple things here that slot right into the themes of colonialism in the show:
The dragon is used used as a way to coerce people into converting to Christianity. Just as Olrox would have watched the Spanish settlers do to his people: under threat of force.
The dragon is feared by the villagers despite no longer being an actual threat, but St George does nothing to dispel those fears—he exploits them. Just as prejudices of all kinds are used to justify settler colonialism as necessary or inevitable.
The dragon is slain and discarded once St George is done with it. Just as Olrox would have watched the Americans betray and displace the Mohican people who allied with them during the revolution.
Erzsebet and Drolta calling Olrox a "Dragon" isn't just ignorant or disrespectful because he's not a dragon. It's downright degrading. They're not just refusing to address him properly—they're telling a man who has survived settler colonization twice over that they intend to use him as a tool with which to do it again.
Olrox spends the season carefully stepping around every appeal Drolta makes for him to pledge loyalty to Erzsebet. And he's damned good at it: never giving up his true intentions by saying no outright, but wiggling out of ever having to say yes by instead asking pointed questions and making cutting observations that always land the ball back in their side of the court.
But then this scene happens, and he can't wiggle out of it this time. They've got their dragon where they want him. He's pinned and 'meek'—and I can think of nothing more infuriating and degrading for a character like Olrox than to be paraded about in his own land to help Erzsebet build her empire across it.
Olrox isn't a dragon, but she's going to make him one.
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Concerning the Vil-Epel drama: I'm from a Scandinavian country and even here we have dialects. I haven't heard them myself, but my mom has and she says they are literally impossible to understand and you need a translator to speak with them. And it's not a bad thing- we don't say those people are less than or anything of the sort- it's just like holy cow we cannot understand anything they're saying, how are we supposed to communicate like this (especially when they understand us since our dialect is the 'base' dialect). If anything, it's funny because of how a dialect can make the same language not understandable, and also disappointing/frustrating that we can't talk to them because we literally don't know what they're saying. So to me it seems like part of the reason Vil wants Epel to not speak in his dialect is simply so people can understand him better and so people can actually communicate with him. We've seen in the Harveston event (if I remember correctly) that the others have no clue what Epel says before they jump the gap, and they need to ask his grandma to translate. That's an example of how if he didn't remove his dialect people would not know what he's saying. I don't think it has anything to do with negative connotations towards the dialect (I bet Vil would encourage it if they were in a situation where it would be beneficial/welcoming), but rather Vil trying to teach Epel that it's not about hiding your dialect/culture, it's about being considerate to those around you to have them understand you (like how you pointed out his granny changed to polite speech when talking to the NRC boys). Don't you think even granny would have at some point taught Epel that? (Although not in the same manner or extremity as Vil).
There seems to be some discourse going on of which I was not aware!
Thank you so much for your perspective!! It is very interesting and informative and wonderful to know!
Yes, it does seem strange that maybe no one warned Epel about interacting with people outside the village, but maybe they did!
This gets into conjecture because we have nothing in-game to confirm either way, but it might be possible that they just assumed he would pick it up through personal experience, or he just wasn't able to make the connection between their warnings and what real-world experience would be like.
Marja herself has no problem with adapting to the time/place/occasion, but as Epel is still a child with limited exposure to people from other cultures, we are watching him experience this learning process in real time!
In a way, Epel's experience at NRC could maybe be interpreted as Vil encouraging him to be more like his grandmother :> Epel was likely aware that the older people in the village adapt their speech patterns when necessary, but maybe never made the connection about exactly why?
He knew it was polite, but when early-Epel shows up at NRC, he is already in fighting mode: he has no interest in being polite, which he might have seen as making concessions and, thus, a weakness.
Bullied his whole childhood for his appearance he decides he is going to set the record straight from day one at NRC so that people know not to mess with him, and then Vil comes in.
It seems like it all connects to Epel's arc as he learns that you can be conscientious of time/place/occasion (like his grandmother), but still be proud of your heritage and strong (like his grandmother).
And you can be beautiful (like Vil), but still be strong (like Vil).
(Because Vil is Vil his wording has a lot to do with the importance of beauty, but the more I think about it, the more it seems like Vil is just trying to prepare Epel for life in a society.)
There is an ongoing theme with Epel that we see in Book 5 and Halloween where he gets jealous of people who can do things that he can't, so he doubles down that he is right and they are wrong in order to make himself feel better about his shortcomings.
That might also tie in to his frustration with Vil's restriction of his dialect!
He has more difficulty expressing himself without it, so rather than do what Vil is trying to get him to do and work on it, by Book 5 he is still doubling down and insisting that Vil is the problem, not himself, despite how he was raised watching everyone around him do exactly what it is that Vil is saying he needs to do.
I really appreciate everyone's introspection!! The more you think about it, the more interesting Epel, his family, his relationship with Vil and his circumstances become! :> He is living through his own, personal coming-of-age story before our eyes!
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i fucking love Andor. not a single bad performance, there was so much layering into the first interaction between cassian and the corporate guards--the fact that there even IS a corporation that has its own town, that owns basically everything, that runs the streets, that is being hired by the empire for security purposes. the fact that most of the members of this corporation are white British men (thank you for that disney).
When those guards said "Did you swim over here?" I didn't miss the metaphor for racism in that--asking an immigrant how they got here, assuming they did so through extreme and illegal means. They're basically cops harassing anyone they don't think belongs in their city (Cassian got attention first at the brothel and neither of thse guards was able to let that go). Even Cassian being described as having "dark" features (with so many of these guards, I feel, having blue eyes and lighter hair). This happens in real life and it hurt to see that happen to Cassian.
The acting was incredible on all fronts. I don't remember his name, but the corpo cop who pushes so hard to do the investigation, to go all in on innocent people that he thinks are beneath him--people that are largely people of color? He performed beautifully. Perfect levels of overeager too-strict stick up the ass newbie hoping to get a pat on the head mixed with baby fascist. You'd look at him and 100% expect to go all in if he thinks it's his duty (until, of course, his bullheadedness gets people killed).
(that conversation between him and the higher up telling him to lie? golden. i also loved maarva and cassian's argument.)
Diego Luna was wonderful, and even the side characters were amazing.
The writers didn't hold anyone's hand by having characters explain all their thoughts and why they're doing what they're doing. they code oppression and the need to hide very well in people's dialogue. From the corpo wannabe and his CO talking about how to cover up the death of two guards to cassian and....basically everyone in his town conveying as much information as possible in as normal-sounding dialogue as possible. A necessary skill for people under the thumb of the empire.
(god, I loved the dialogue I really did)
I liked that even with the village children not speaking Basic/English, you could clearly tell what was being communicated. They had enough group behavior and body language to let me know basically exactly what everyone was saying.
The soundtrack? Beautiful. The opening and ending themes are amazing, and the closing scene of episode 3 almost had me pressing my face into the screen (I love that the emblem at the top of the screen in the opening so much resembles a planet being backlit by the sun at first. i noticed just how little sunlight there is throughout the series until the very end).
Andor is such a mature show and I think that ability to go deeper, to have this ambiguity with characters--having the protagonist be as dishonest and slippery as he is, showing these adults trying to manage relationships/sex lives with each other and in some ways that short sightedness causing problems for them--is what allowed it to flourish. They don't shy away from the results of an explosion (not that it's gorey--but how often do people get hit and you hear their comrades calling for a medic?)
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The new trilogy means we finally got official French translations of the fifth and sixth games (the fourth already had one) so I did my thing and played through them, since they're always a lot of fun. Here are some things about French Dual Destinies I thought you might like to know:
Yes, it's set in France as per usual. They are all French people who live in Paris. And yes, that means that in this universe there is a Japanese village themed around yokai within throwing distance of Paris.
Athena lived in America in this version, and therefore peppers her speech with English and Spanish. My favourite unhinged franglais line was "let's get au travail" which I will be using from now on because it's hilarious
Many characters got French pun names again. Simon's name is "Jack Lamenoire" -- Jack, because the French version of Simon Says uses the name Jack/Jacques, and "lame noire" means "black blade". (Also he's not British or anything in this version, he just speaks in somewhat old-timey French.)
He has multiple nicknames for the judge that are all slight variations of "Your Baldness". He doesn't do that "-dono" suffix thing but he does refer to Phoenix in particular as "Maître Wright".
...I don't like pointing out things I didn't like buuuuuut his voice is a huge downgrade. Actually, to be honest, I don't like the new French voices that much in general... idk man they just don't sound very enthusiastic...
Filch's name is "Arsène Loupet", reference to the famous fictional thief Arsène Lupin, which I thought was pretty cool! (Herlock Sholmes was also a reference to that series too btw!)
Athena and Apollo use informal pronouns for each other pretty much from the get-go, but there have been some changes from the previous games: Phoenix now uses the informal "tu" for Apollo (and Athena) whereas in the prev game he didn't, Pearl now uses "tu" for Phoenix as well, and Klavier uses "tu" for Apollo now (but Apollo still calls him the formal "vous" lmao)
SPEAKING OF... SPEAKING OF. The French localisation continues to utterly baffle me when it comes to Klavier (or Konrad as he's called in French). No listen, liSTEN. In the previous game he was specifically stated to be English and did his law exams in England and dropped English words into his speech (and this is still the case in the trilogy version, I checked). But now?? They seem to have gone back on it and in this game he says he's German again, like the in English translation??? But he's still dropping English words into his speech randomly????? Look I already went through the five stages of grief when I found out they'd english-ified him, I made my peace with it, and NOW they change it???????
God and his new French voice sucks too (his old one was actually good)... what have they done to you my poor boy, was making you English not bad enough T_T Oh and he and Athena didn't even get their little language club moment where they both start speaking in the same foreign language?? Like, that just straight-up didn't happen here and I had been waiting for it aauuugh it's cool it's fine it's cool i'm okay i'm--
True to Dual Destinies fashion, there are still typos. In an emotional moment, Apollo took a leave of asbence from the office. Not absence. Asbence.
I can't put my finger on it but Robin's coming out scene felt more... respectful in French? The English translation was done over a decade ago so it feels somewhat dated, maybe that's why... I obviously don't know if she was purposely written to be a trans girl but she very much comes across that way, and it feels like the French translators were aware of that interpretation and took it into account, idk maybe it's just me
THEY GOT RID OF MY FAVOURITE LINE. THE FORESHADOWEY ONE WHERE SIMON TELLS ATHENA THAT THE PERSON SHE WANTS TO SAVE MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE IN THE WORLD DOESN'T DESIRE HER DEFENCE, AND HE'S CLEARLY TALKING ABOUT HIMSELF. THE FRENCH MADE HIM SAY SOMETHING ELSE WAY LESS COOL. I don't wanna be like "FRENCH TURNABOUT ACADEMY IS DEAD TO ME" because most of it was awesome, but man these occasional things made me wanna flip tables
Cosmic Turnabout and Turnabout for Tomorrow were great in French though, so there's that. Clay's French name is "Pierre" which worked surprisingly well because it means stone or rock, and the moon rock was also called that, so like, the phantom had to kill Pierre in order to get the pierre... idk it worked and it was cool
Simon and Athena switch to using informal pronouns for each other very near the end of the game, in the scene where they work together to psychologically mess with the phantom. It's around the time when they start openly calling each other by first name since everyone knows now that they're old friends.
Phoenix and Edgeworth also occasionally refer to each other by first name in this game, which threw me off completely. (Reminder that Edgeworth's French name is "Benjamin Hunter". Just picture Phoenix standing in front of Edgeworth and calling him BENJAMIN. Now you understand how absolutely bizarre it felt.)
Here's the entirety of The Dissin' of Phoenix Wright in French
#ace attorney#dual destinies#aa5 spoilers#random stuff#there's actually a fan translation of this game too but last i checked it wasn't publicly available yet#i think i'd still like to play it though. i know they worked super hard on it#i'll make a post about the next game as well when i can be bothered bc i have stuff to say about that too
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Hello there fellow Disney fans, here's another update onto my "The Wishing Kingdom" rewrite, so here I created a little poster for a bit of promotion and just to get you an idea of what it is going to be: from the poster alone, my version is going to be about the REAL origin story of the famous wishing star with some scrapped elements included like the villain couple, a star boy, the idea of writing your wish on a tree, the village where people ran away from the villains and many more, and with this rewrite, I want to celebrate 100 years of Disney by showing you why it has made such a big impact on all of our lives!
Originally I wanted this to be half animated, half animatic but for some reason this is now going to be half written, half animated which means that in some sections I'll post some chapters with some sections of animation like the musical numbers and in some chapters, the scenes would be fully animated, so I'm looking forward to putting my foot forward into this!
During that time, it was taken to rewrite and redesign the main villain couple, King Magnifico and Queen Amaya, in the movie, I noticed that he had a tragic backstory which wasn't needed in terms of how far Disney villains go, but with a villain couple, they have a completely different story.
All Magnifico and Amaya wanted as their motivation is power, this was because they made a wish to become sorcerors who held all sorts of magic, but the stars rejected it as they feared that their magic would release the dark void which was used to suck all the power from the stars leaving them to slowly dissapear in the darkness, in response to this anger, they went to a cabin where they learnt incantations from a book, but there was one that gave them the power to become the sorcerors they always wanted to be, and with that power, they used it to create the kingdom of Rosas and anytime a few people came to the kingdom, they're immediately brainwashed into thinking that the couple's magic could be useful to grant their own wishes, for better and for worse.
During the story, they don't start off as powerful at first since when they are fostering Princess Asha, they keep their powers a secret by telling her the same story as to how they grant wishes for their people, kinda like they are gaslighting her in a way into believing that they can make other people's wishes come true, but as it progresses we get to see their true colours as to why they were hiding this power in the first place, it was a case of revenge from the star kingdom as they couldn't grant their own wish, with this, it kinda ties with the theme of despite having your wish come true being positive and happy, there is a dark side to it as well, and no matter what happens, you should have faith in yourself to make it come true.
Also, their villain song "This Is The Thanks I Get" will undergo 2 versions, the rewritten version and the rewritten reprise, I feel like the reason for this is because I want to try and give the essence of a true tribute to the villains of the past and the present, the title should be "Our Command" and the context shall be revealed in a few days once I get to it.
@annymation @uva124 @oh-shtars @kstarsarts @gracebethartacc @gracebeth3604 @thisnameisnotspokenfor @rascalentertainments @signed-sapphire @wings-of-sapphire @emillyverse @lunellasflo @mythartist21 @mafik-sun @artist-issues @hah-studios @pinkiemachine @synergysilhouette @tumblingdownthefoxden @kmixon
#wish rewrite#wish reimagined#asha wish#disney 100#disney concept art#disney wish#wish asha#wish au#starboy#the wishing kingdom au#twk au#king magnifico#queen amaya#animation student#writers of tumblr#artists on tumblr#animators on tumblr#passion project#rewrite#animation#kingdom of wishes#kow au#wish concept art
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Demon In A Bottle
Took me bloody well forever, but I'm off work now, so here we go!
Febuwhump: Day 1 - Helplessness
Word Count: 5,395
Summary: In the wake of a battle with a demon, one that's abilities allow it to dredge up old miseries, Sky must hunt down their straying captain to try and stop him drowning said old miseries in whiskey.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Alcoholism and Substance Abuse
notes: quite frankly, the theme of this fic is in no ways lighthearted, but while the title jumped out at me from the story, I find it also makes me laugh. I can’t help thinking of the tweetle-beetle-bottle-puddle-paddle-battle-muddle from Fox in Socks and I don’t know if I hate myself for it or am just glad I can giggle about something related to this story!
If there’s one thing heroes are supposed to be able to do, it’s save people. By definition, a hero is someone who helps others, but in meeting the rest of their chain of heroes, Sky has since learned that the title of hero means something else too.
The Hero is a man or child clad in green who appears when Hyrule is in danger to fight away monsters and evil and restore peace to the kingdom. The fashion in which they do so differs of course, as he’s slowly learning, but the fact remains that a hero still has a duty to his people and his country, and while it’s not always something thrust upon them, each one of his brothers bears that burden. Some of them let it drag them down, the weight of the world on their shoulders an inescapable duty, others shoulder it as a life purpose, a defining role, something that they’ve built their whole being around, and others, like Wind, regard it as a natural course of action.
It’s strange, learning that the title is so commonly used, that so many men and boys have borne it since it was given to him what feels like ages ago. In a way, it’s nice knowing that there are others, that there are people like him who understand things, yet in the same breath, they’re all so different, and with such varying experiences that really, in the long run, they’re as different as night and day sometimes.
As if to prove it, Legend’s blatant lack of trust in knights clashes with the fact that so many of them bear the honor of knighthood with pride. Warriors is a polished, well-spoken soldier, trained in the ways of combat, and Twilight is a ranch hand hailing from the country village of Ordon, brash in many ways that clash with the captain. Time is quiet, distant at times, and Wind is warm, welcoming and an ever-present ray of sunshine at their sides. Where Hyrule is unpolished and unassuming, the majority of their group stand out in a crowd. Wild can cook. Truly, there is such variety among their number that it’s a wonder they can all be classified by the same singular word: a hero.
But just because the title is there, doesn’t always mean it always feels like it fits.
Sure, Legend’s whole being is built around his life as a hero. They're not sure how long he’s been doing it, but they don’t call the young man “veteran” for nothing. It’s clear he owns his title without shame, living out each day in the effort of following the destiny given to him. Sure, Wild has taken to heart the burden bestowed on him, striving to be the best he can be and own the title. Sure, Wind accepts it like it’s just another truth about himself, just the same as his golden hair and ocean blue eyes. Yes, the old man seems to characterize what any child might think of when asked to describe a hero. But Sky is not Legend or Wind or Wild or Time or any of the other heroes. They are of the same spirit, and some of them apparently share blood (why had Twilight and Time told no one?) but they are each their own separate selves, each with his own life and person, and unlike them, Sky feels the weight of their shared title acutely.
It was his duty to save Zelda. The weight of the future was on his shoulders. His duty was protecting the people of Hylia and restoring peace and safety to the surface. His whole world expanded in one day from a smattering of islands high above the clouds to a whole huge land full of people and animals and duty.
Duty. What a heavy word.
It follows him. Even with the sword now silent, Fi having gone to rest with the assurance that he has accomplished what he must and no longer requires her aid and guidance (even though he does, he still does, please, Fi, some advice would be great from time to time) his mission isn’t over. No, because now that he’s defeated the god of evil, now that Zelda is safe, now that Impa is dead, he is the one Hylian out of all of them who knows enough about the surface to guide the other in surviving there. Yet, in the same breath, he’s still the youngster who barely graduated Academy, never mind being properly knighted. He’s still young enough that the elders sometimes doubt him, but experienced enough that they know not to treat him like a child. He’s ‘too young’ to understand the Knights of Skyloft, but has seen more of the world than they ever have.
It’s strange, being caught in such an imbalance. People expect so much and yet so little of him. They want him to know what’s happening but doubt that he does. They ask for advice but question anything he gives them.
It’s exhausting. He knows Zelda used to tease him before, but the nickname “sleepy-head” never felt so accurate.
At least with the chain though, he doesn’t need to worry about it. Call him selfish, but there’s a certain kind of relief that comes from allowing someone else to take the lead, knowing that everyone else understands the world around him better and knows what to do. He doesn’t need to babysit them around new species or warn them about dangerous conditions or fauna. He doesn’t need to even be on guard, instead free to drift along at the center of the group, knowing that Twilight’s sharp ears and Legend’s acute sense of danger will provide ample warning if anything does come upon them.
He’s free to sleep for the first time in what feels like forever, without someone busting through his tent in a panic because they heard keese for the first time or realized that rain existed. In fact, he’s allowed to even sleep in sometimes, no plans or defenses or responsibilities waiting for him when he wakes up, just simple easy to follow orders of get up, get ready, walk, fight, and make camp.
Call him crazy, this adventure has been almost a vacation if it wasn’t for the fact that Twilight almost died on them a month ago! Or then again, there’s been a lot that happened since then, but even with that in mind, at least he’s not the sole one responsible for the safety, care and guidance of his fellow heroes. More often than not, actually, they’re the ones looking out for him. Honestly, he doesn’t know how he’ll thank Legend for teaching him about the poisons on the surface, or Wild for letting him peek at the champion’s slate to read what he can about monster types, weaknesses and whatnot. The other heroes have this and that to add, of course, but those two have been the most helpful, seeking him out in order to show him things first hand when they can, so that while Wild and Hyrule often go to muck about, he and Legend find their free time typically spent with the veteran teaching him everything he knows about the surface world, survival, and even matters beyond that; matters beyond being a hero and more about just being. It's nice learning things for the sake of learning, not for the sake of staying alive, and Legend talks with a similar cadence and manner to Fi when he’s caught up in expounding on this point or that, uninterrupted because Sky very much appreciates both the effort and the guidance.
For all Legend has to share with him though, the vet isn’t exactly someone he can turn to when it comes to problems with people. Honestly, sometimes it feels like he returns the kindness shown to him by the younger hero by covering Legend’s ass when it comes to social interactions, at least among their group. The vet’s left a terrible first impression on most of them, and since it seems everyone else is equally bad as he is when it comes to communication, there’s still many in their group under the impression that their vet is a total asshole.
So yeah, Legend is not the best person to ask for help when it comes to people issues. Time either. Time and he aren’t close by any exaggeration of the word, and while the older man is willing to offer advice here and there, Sky’s not certain he feels comfortable seeking it out. Typically speaking, he’s found that Warriors is the best person to ask about these sorts of things, being as he is a man and not a child and possesses the social skill necessary to address this sort of thing, only....
Only, it’s terribly hard to ask someone for advice on how to handle their own stupidity.
He is not blind. Okay, well, maybe, and to some things, but missing Time and Twilight’s relationship is likely more a matter of him not being close enough to either to really put much stock in their interactions. Their leader’s fondness for one of their number wasn’t too shocking considering how attached he himself has become to all of them in such a short time. He'd just assumed that Time moved slower and had begun to warm up to them one at a time, starting with the rancher and moving on to the sailor. He'd thought they’d all follow in time, not that Time just ultimately had favorites.
Despite missing that though, he’s not entirely incompetent. He sees his brothers, and much as they might have all assumed he was simply the tired, quiet one, just because he doesn’t speak up doesn’t mean he’s not paying attention. No, he sees what happens in camp. He sees Legend’s tentative bids for connection, Wild’s withdrawn attitude that hides behind the smile and the laughter. He sees Wind’s worry and Time’s stress. He knows Twilight is wrung out and confused after his secret was exposed and the rest of them have had to accept the fact that their silent, furry companion was, in fact, one of their brothers.
He knows that there’s a breach of trust there, or at least a perceived one. Those who didn’t regard the beast as a threat have often sought the company of their wolf companion in order to express troubles or thoughts that they didn’t wish to share with anyone else, including the rancher himself. Not knowing, they’d told him things, thinking he was just an animal and incapable of sharing them, told him things they didn’t want Twilight to know, things they thought or felt. Now, knowing that Twilight is privy to so many of their secrets, it’s perhaps natural that their barriers have been thrown up, their brothers guarded and wary of what he’ll do with the forbidden knowledge he possesses.
He knows it hurts the man, but he understands. He’d never shared his own feelings with their wolf companion, but if Crimson were to one day take hylian form, he’s sure he’d be at least the slightest bit worried about it, maybe even betrayed. Not knowing a dear companion could speak if they so wanted, could be like yourself, would be hurtful. To know they didn’t trust you when you poured out your heart to them...
Yes, he understands.
Unfortunately, that also means that Twilight is, very much, also not in the category of people who he can come to about things that are worrying him. Sadly, it seems none of them are. He’d never dream of asking the younger ones; Wind is a child and should not be burdened with such things, Hyrule is still struggling to make his own connections, Wild may or may not understand and most definitely has enough on his plate already, Legend is Legend, and he’s never been very close with Four.
Which leaves Warriors, who is, again, the course of his frustration.
Because, unfortunately, despite being a hero, and despite killing an actual god, Sky finds himself helpless to face a mere vice, a common demon that seems to have taken hold of one of his brothers.
It started simple. A night after a tough battle, one where he couldn’t sleep and had wandered downstairs from the inn-room he’d shared with a few of the others, a room where Wind was being kept awake for the sake of his earlier concussion from a battle. Stress was high across the whole group, and he’d needed the space so it was natural that he’d wandered downstairs, hoping to sneak outside and catch some fresh air like he used to on Skyloft.
Like on Skyloft, the awful visions that woke him up that night were also cause for his slipping from bed.
His intention had been to step out, to catch the breeze on his face and maybe watch the stars for a bit. Legend often says that the stars hold comfort and assurance, and while he doesn’t know nearly as much about them, or the stories and figures the vet can pick out from the heavens, he does know that cloudless nights remind him of home, and bright lights twinkling above had quickly become the only familiar thing between every place he’s gone.
Maybe that’s why Legend likes them so much; they’re an unchanging constant no matter where you go.
At any rate, he’d needed the space. He hadn’t expected to find any of the others up as well though, much less the captain. In the end, he never made it outside, instead sitting up and talking with the other.
He’d thought little of the nearly empty bottle of whiskey at the man’s side, too busy with his own thoughts and worries.
He’d thought nothing of it either when, after a terrible battle that nearly saw the loss of the traveler and ended with a passed-out Legend and a very bloody Four, he’d found the captain up stewing quietly over ill thought-out plans and reckless behaviors. The off-handed “I need a drink” had been something to just smile and shake his head at.
But then he’d begun to catch on. Rough battles, difficult nights, sleeplessness from worry, from pain and in his own case; from visions. It had resulted in many a night spent up in each other’s company. More worrying still was the constant presence of a little silver flask, held tight in fainty trembling hands as dulled blue eyes would linger over their younger ones.
He’d thought it strange, but it was Wind’s worried “has the captain been drinking again?” that really caught him by the ears and shook him. He’d thought it a passive thing, hadn’t paid it much attention because there was no true way to know what was in that little flask (Legend has one too, but it’s got some kind of sweet, spicey juice in it). The sailor asking about it though had changed that. It had revealed that, no, it wasn’t simply a passing thing and was very much a longstanding issue. It was not at all what he was hoping to find out. More so, the youngest can’t even say anything about it, because the captain knowing that his former charge is aware of the vice apparently would have some very, very bad results.
So, Wind can’t say anything without potentially making it worse. None of the others know or have seen it enough to realize the weight of the issue, and he’s left the only one who not only knows and witnesses it but has nothing he can do about it.
Long nights, dark eyes and pain, so, so much pain in the captain’s face and voice have left him stumbling. The quiet admission of how their elegant captain’s own stepfather was a miserable drunk isn’t any help either, although that conversation had rather quickly turned from him trying to bring up the issue and into the both of them commiserating on the lack of decent father figures in the world.
From there. It just... keeps happening.
He’s watching, trying to say something and so, so easily letting pretty words and prettier eyes distract him into talking about something else. Quite frankly, it would be terrifying if it wasn’t so impressive how the captain manages to dodge his every quiet attempt by redirecting him onto something else, turning the matter around or simply accepting his concern with a smile and an easy, gentle, so very believable dismissal. Yet, he sees the results. He sees the stress and the tension. He sees the misery that before had hidden so prettily behind a polished mask, but which now spills from time to time into a slippery mess before him, catching him in its mire and leaving him floundering, breathless, and scared.
He’s the hero, the one meant to save those around him from trouble, but he’s failing a battle with a bottle that’s he’s not even touching.
Watching the result of that failure, the downward spiral, it hurts. It hurts more than blades or arrows or even poison. In a way, it is a sort of poison; a slow working thing that, while he never touched it, has infected not only his own life but those around them.
As chaos sows itself across the kingdom, poison spreads within their own number. The attention of their brothers, and indeed, most of his own, is fixed on the protection of their home, on defeating the newly risen foe, on ending things so that their lives can return in some small manner to a semblance of normalcy. And somehow, he lets his worries fall to the background, let’s his mind turn to the struggles spawning up around him with the others, with himself, with things that are ever so much more prominent than a little silver flask. Even the yelling match that sprung up between the vet and druken captain hadn’t refocused him, his attention more fixed on other things in the aftermath; Legend’s behavior, his own aggression when shouting at the captain to just cease and desist with beating the dead horse before he’d marched off after the vet.
Fighting and travel have kept him busy since, but failure is as sure a trigger as anything, or so he’s learned. Even now, he watches as the others retreat to lick their wounds, to hide away in their inn rooms, silent and mournful, blood still staining their clothes. He’s sore himself, tired, weary, too worn from the events of things over the last couple of months to actually want more than to lay down himself and sleep, but he doesn’t.
No, because when the rest of them go to hide at the inn, the captain goes off alone, a cold, dangerous, dark look in that drawn and tired face, and worry gnawing at the skyloftian’s own heart will not allow for him to even entertain thoughts of sleep, not when he’s learned to know what that look means. He lingers only as long as he must to ensure all the rest are settled, safe and stable, before darting back out onto the streets.
Watching is hard. Seeking is harder.
There’s an awful sort of feeling that comes over him at the realization that the nearest bar is mostly the new location of his straying brother but finding it in the dark is nearly as difficult as dragging himself towards it, knowing full well what he’ll find inside. He does though, he does because he has to and because it’s the right thing to do. He does it because it’s what a hero would do.
Heroes save people when they’re drawn into danger, and the devil in the bottle is slowly urging his beloved brother and friend in. A steady hiss or whisper or however it’s call manifests for the captain, and one that, if he doesn’t make it in time, he won’t be able to stop from taking hold.
He can whisper a begrudging thanks to the heavens that Warriors is a gentle drunk most of the time.
-
The bar-room's floor is shockingly clean when he enters, considering it’s a farming town they’ve stopped to stay in at Time’s suggestion. Faint, dusty footprints from one or two people scuff in and out, but he can see where thick ash and dirt have clumped and marched across the floor, and following the trail is the easiest thing he’s done today after fighting a far larger, far more terrifying demon.
In his mind, Sky steels himself; if he can fight Demise and come out alive, he can face up to the captain about this most worrisome coping technique. The key is simply not to let Warriors distract him with something else, so at the first mention of anything that’s not the man’s own issues, he needs to start to redirect.
Hylia above, why couldn’t those cursed goddesses have granted him even just the smallest piece of Wisdom? Charging in is the easiest part, getting through the battle with a silver-tongued soldier is the thing it seems he can’t do properly.
Glass taps on polished wood, a heavy and familiar sigh following. Trailing his eyes towards the back corner of the room, he can easily make out the bloody and worn form of his brother, slumped against a small table and already with a hand ploughing through his ash dusted hair. Warriors looks like hell. Dark bruises beneath darker eyes, face drawn and still stained with the remains of their defeat. The usually proud appearance has been crippled, uniform torn and filthy, and blood still spattered over armor, leather, and skin. The man doesn’t so much as spare him a glace as Sky settles across from him at the table, keeping the barrier between them for both their sakes.
“Hey.”
A long, drawn-out sigh sounds off the wood of the worn bar table.
Sky waits. Pressing any of his brothers is counterproductive. Sitting quietly, taking in the situation, is the best approach, letting them determine whether or not they’re ready to speak yet. He won’t push either, he just sits and rests his arms on the table, glancing the empty glass and the blessed lack of a matching bottle.
“What d’you want, Sky?” Still not even a flick of dull eyes up towards him. “Shouldn’t you be with the rest?”
He shrugs, stiff, as though he’s not being eaten up a bit with guilt at leaving them. The other adults can keep an eye on things though, and Wind was already doing a marvelous job of talking them out of their heads. It’s up to him to handle the captain though, as the sailor may or not have even been allowed inside the bar. The kid shouldn’t be here anyway, for the captain’s sake and his own.
“I didn’t feel right about letting you go off alone.”
“The kids need you right now.”
“They need you too,” he challenges, leaning a bit closer and trying to catch the turned away eyes of the other. “And I think you’d do yourself some good to be around them.”
A twitch of the fine-featured face before him is his only answer as sooty fingers toy with the empty glass between them. It’s lifted briefly, before the other man seems to check himself and realize it’s empty.
Sky needs to prevent it getting refilled. Hopefully, he can drag the captain’s ass out of here and back to their brothers before then. The key is just getting through to him, and though it feels like ages since he’d looked at the other man and found only unreadable smiles and perfection, there’s still a barrier that stops him really understanding what the captain might be thinking. Goddesses above, how is it that even Legend is easier to read than this man?
“Wars, you’re worrying me.” He tries. Slowly, softly enough that no other patrons in the place will hear him, but it seems the captain doesn’t hear it either.
No, the man just taps his glass against the table-top, distracted, and sigh so heavy he seems to shudder. “Go back, chosen.”
“No, captain.”
In battle, maybe blue eyes hold the flames of the goddesses themselves, but in the dim light of the bar, there’s only a dullness and flickering darkness that makes him want to shift and draw away. He doesn’t though, doesn’t dare. Instead, he sits under that stare for the brief second it's spared, and then the soldier is shutting his eyes with yet another heavy sigh. “Rest, you need it.”
“I can’t.” You’re here, he wants to add. You’re out here and you’re worrying me, and I can’t sleep easy until I know we’re all safe.
Fine features twitch, shifting into a frown that would be very terrifying indeed if Sky hadn’t gotten used to all the harsh looks of his team over the last while. Time’s dark looks and Warriors’ disapproval aren’t nearly as weighty all things considered, and he carefully doesn’t respond when the other looks up at him again, brows drawn low and tightly together, jaw twitching slightly. “Sky-”
“Link,” he returns, sharp to match the look he shoots at the other. Their given name slips strangely off his tongue and earns a twitch of the brows in answer. “No. I’m not letting you sit alone a stew.”
“Even if I want to?” The glass taps loudly against the table, a sharp contrast to their low voices. “Does that matter at all?”
Okay, that’s just a bomb-burr waiting for him to walk too close. “Link, please,” and the use of their shared name seems to have fingers closing tighter over the mouth of the whiskey glass, “we both know what will happen if I leave.”
His words are proved by the lack of verbal answer, instead the tapping of the glass back onto the table as dark eyes meet his. They’re blank again, impossible to read past that closed off, stern expression. It's not one he’s used to facing much these days, but he’s seen it turned on the younger ones plenty of times.
“I leave,” he presses, “and you’ll drink.”
There’s the faintest tightening again around the glass still clutched in sooty hands. “It could be worse.”
“You’re right,” he agrees, nodding slowly, “it could. I could keep ignoring it and you’ll keep getting worse.” He steels his own jaw, folding his hands if only for something to do with them before he meets the stare now fixed, heavy and harsh, on his face. “When we all met, you hardly touched the stuff save maybe after a bad battle, and I mean a really bad one.” The same as Time here and there. The same as any man likely might. A really bad day is fair enough excuse for one drink, but Warriors used to stop at one, and now he doesn’t. “Now it seems every time our backs are turned...” he motions to the glass, watches as blue eyes dart down to follow his gaze.
The captain’s hands aren’t shaking like they normally do. They’re perfectly still as he clutches hold of the empty cup.
He doesn’t like it. The tremor is normal, it is a sure sign of ease. He knows the after effects of their last battle, the magic in it, the illusions cast around them of the worst they’ve seen, worst they’d imagined, used as a distraction shook all of them, but seeing the man still so tightly wound, still so caught up in his head that his body is still responding as though he’s in immediate danger, it doesn’t sit well with him.
“Come back to the inn,” he begs. “We all-”
The sudden shriek of the chair as the soldier stands might be what cuts him off, the cold look in closed off eyes definitely is though. “I don’t know what that demon showed you, chosen, but know this: you can fight gods and you can win, but some of us have fought men and believe it or not, there’s something quite different and more terrible about that.” It’s the clipped soldier’s voice that speaks to him, resounding enough in the bar that everyone else present has fallen silent and tense, looking up from their own conversations to stare. “So go back to the inn, get over what you saw, and let me do the same here so we can face the demon again in the morning.”
“Wars-”
The other turns, heading back to the bar and no doubt with full intent to refill the glass he holds.
Sky darts after him. “Please, Link! This isn’t good for you!”
“Well, it isn’t exactly hurting you now, is it?” Is the sharp answer as barkeep approaches the two of them, wary.
For a moment, Sky debates between telling the barkeep to not serve his brother and telling the captain to just walk away. Caught betwixt, he misses the opportunity for both, too distracted, too unfocused, to slow, and when his brother motions for the bottle in the hands of the barkeep, it’s only then that he gets his wits about him enough to catch hold of the thing himself.
The barkeep darts away, no doubt eager to avoid the mess as snapping eyes fix on storm cloud blue as Sky’s voice rumbles low like thunder between them. “You doing this hurts everyone that loves you. We can’t stand to just sit back and watch anymore.”
“Well no one asked you to watch,” the captain bites, “or care.”
“But we do,” he answers back, trying desperately to catch those eyes again, “we chose to be your brothers, and thus we chose to stad beside you.”
“Then don’t blame me when your choices get you hurt.” The hand he’s set on the bottle is knocked away as, once more, Warriors turns his back on him and heads back to his table.
He’s not sure if he should chase or walk away or give up. He’s left standing for a moment before darting after, again, unable to stop the other as a finger of amber is poured and knocked back without so much as a flinch. Well, not a flinch from Warriors, he finds himself recoiling just the slightest bit as he watches.
He tries again, this time not daring to push further by touching the forbidden poison, but instead trying to break through and get the other to just look at him. “Link, please, you’re killing yourself like this.”
Dark eyes are empty, lifeless, as they turn upwards to look at him, like visions of the sealing grounds were once, thousands of years ago; barren and ruined by battle and death. “Good.”
And then it’s gone, another glass knocked back and Sky left standing, only able to watch.
What else is there to be said? What argument is left to beg, to plead, to convince? He’s the hero, he’s good with his hands, his blade, his strength. He sees foes and he crushes them. He sees allies and he aids them. But when an ally embraces the foe, what then? What’s left for him to do? What course of action is there left save to beg? And when even that fails there is nothing.
Nothing but watching, unable to go back without fulfilling his mission and unwilling to let his brother be left alone in the weakened state the quickly emptying bottle will leave him in. All he can do is watch as golden poison flows, as sooty, bloodied, burned hands lift and toss back, as glass clacks against the tabletop again only to be refilled once more. There's nothing else he can do or say. There may be other arguments, but they’re lost to him, buried instead under that horrible stare and the cracked and shattered soul that had glinted through on that single, devastating ‘good’.
It’s not the first defeat he’s faced today, but between the two, this is the one that leaves him truly helpless in it’s wake.
#febuwhump#febuwhump2024#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu warriors#lu sky#ketto writes#technically#tbohh#the blood of heroes' history
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Kid-friendly holiday crafts !! 🐣
I've created a list of all the crafts i want to do this year for the holidays. Most of them are kid-friendly as well and especially fun to do with regressors 💕
I've also included difficulty ratings of one to three stars. If a craft is more difficult littles might need some extra help to make them !
Homemade Gift Wrapping
Difficulty: 🌟
Such a cute and easy way to make Christmas more creative !! And a good way to use the cute paper and stickers I've been hoarding all year because I don't know what to do with them 😖
Felt Christmas Cookie Ornaments
Difficulty: 🌟🌟🌟
These ones are a little tricky but they're so cute, I love the colourful beads on them that look like sprinkles !! And a Christmas tree would look so good with lots of these hanging up🎄
Scented Salt Dough Ornaments
Difficulty: 🌟
I only gave these a one star difficulty because they're very easy to make. But keep in mind that they do use the oven ! Other than that, they're cute and smell nice, it's like the best of both worlds 😆
Christmas Bunting
Difficulty: 🌟🌟
I love bunting, not only Christmas themed, but all year round !! It's my favourite wall decoration and makes my room feel like I'm having a party every day 🎉
I also found some other bunting patterns in different shapes, these ones are more holiday themed ! But that means that they're a little more difficult to make. Here's the links for star and Christmas tree patterns.
Difficulty: 🌟🌟🌟
And also, another one because I just love bunting. This one's Christmas tree shaped but is much easier because it doesn't require any sewing !
Difficulty: 🌟
Gingerbread House Gift Wrapping/Advent Calendar
Difficulty: 🌟
These ones are very similar so I grouped them together. Decorating brown paper bags with white markers to make little gingerbread houses ! Which you can use for wrapping presents but also to make a whole village for an advent calendar 🏡
Fabric Paperchains
Difficulty: 🌟🌟🌟
I love paperchains but they always tear when I try to make them. These one's won't though and because they have velcro you can mix and match the patterns when you get bored of them 💭
Gingerbread House Card
Difficulty: 🌟
You can probably tell I love gingerbread houses. I just think they're so cute and Christmassy ! And it would be so fun to make these cards but also everyone would be so happy to receive such a cute card ! 🌈
And that's all !! I might update this post as I see more crafts during the month but I think this is a good list to start off with. Also if anyone does any of these please post a picture ! I'd love to see them 🥰💖
#sfw agere#agere#sfw age regression#sfw regression#age regression#agere little#agere aesthetic#agere caregiver#crafts#arts and crafts#christmas#holidays#holiday crafts#christmas crafts#sewing
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youtube
Subway to Stardew - Passenger Events - Saloon Part 2
This plays after you see the first saloon event (submas having lunch with Elliott!) and visit on a Friday after reaching 3 hearts with Elesa.
Commentary under the read-more!
Did you notice the sprites? No? Great! I finally stopped procrastinating and recolored their spritesheets so now they don't share the same brown outline and match vanilla style a bit more!
Sprite-wise... they're over 80. Emmet's in his 90's.
So many sprites.....
Also... Elesa's back! We have a basic outline for what would happen in Elesa's events, but we haven't written anything for her yet... She has plans though! She's rounding up all the artists for it. Meanwhile, submas are still struggling with passenger relations.
Elesa's storyline is going to be fun to plan out but one of her B plots is making sure Ingo and Emmet take their breaks!
Elesa's fun. She's a bit awkward herself (girl can NOT keep a secret for the life of her) but she's doing things. Nimbasa trio share a braincell and they pass it around throughout this event.
We wanted to show a little more insight into their life in the valley and how others feel about them. This time, you're catching them on a bad day. One of my favorite things about Stardew is how everyone is very much flawed in some way and everyone is an unreliable narrator. I love how it just presents life in a run-down town as is and it's up to you to interpret whatever glimpses you get.
Trying to merge the two different media's in terms of tone and seriousness is a bit complex. Pokémon - as a franchise - is at the end of a the day; kid friendly. Stardew Valley, while may look happy go lucky and cute touches upon some really heavy topics.
We are basically skirting the lines here and there with the themes and even trying to make it in character for the Pokémon characters as well.
Taking a kid friendly characters and just trying to touch upon tough subjects while also trying not to seem OOC or off - is tough. So creative liberties it is.
Not everyone gets along in Stardew. I tried to emphasize that in Sebastian's distaste for submas. He would hate being their neighbor. He's cranky because he can't sleep in until 10:00 AM anymore because they're already at work before it turns 6:00 in the morning. Extreme opposites with their problems.
Sebastian and Submas DO NOT get along... They may tolerate each other at the end of the story but they just do not mix well.
I also think that Sebastian would just project a lot of his personal problems onto them... He already does that with Maru. He's not the best taking out his frustrations in the right direction. Haven't finished Maru's passenger event yet (another battle event...) but submas would be decently close with her since she has an interest in Pokemon and Sebastian would take that as "siding" against him. They are also decently aquainted with Demetrius which isn't the best for Sebastian's dad issues. He's not fond of the invasive species they brought in but they do appreciate infodumping to each other about mechanics and such.
Oh, Demetrius... I'm going to have fun with world building info-dumps with him. Ya'll like world building? Well, talk to the villagers, they may have a glimpse into things.
I do headcanon Demetrius (pretty much painfully canon...), Maru, and Sebastian as autistic themselves just like the Nimbasa trio. Unfortunately, that does not necessarily mean that they'll always have solidarity. For one, Sebastian's sensitivity to loud noises puts him at odds with Ingo. Submas fare better with the more infodumpy types.
Sibling relations are a sore subject for all of them so submas are horrified at even the thought of splitting tracks and hating each other because they have codependency issues; Sebastian has an inferiority complex and hates how they make him feel like even more of a failure because he doesn't like Maru. Neither parties are exactly healthy, but you can pick between who you're going for! (I was curious as to what the deal was with Sebastian so he was the first bachelor I married... I think you can tell that I divorced him.)
Sebastian has his issues... He was also going to be my first bachelor but uhh, I went with Harvey. I still love Sebastian as a character tho, he is really complex especially family dynamic wise. I do feel bad for him....
He does. I do appreciate how messy his family dynamic is, but I'm a little biased against him since I appreciate Maru and Demetrius more (sorry). I really like how he doesn't handle his issues healthily (I mean... look at Emmet.) and it's interesting to compare him to the other characters.
Like Sam! Sam's a good kid (college age 20 something year old...) and actually really emotionally mature even if he's a bit childish at times. Abigail... isn't quite all there yet but she has a strong sense of what's right and wrong. She's less hesitant than Sam when it comes to things, but Sam serves a bit as damage control here. I headcanon Sam and Abigail to have ADHD so they kind of have an idea about submas being autistic and what that entails, but it's not at the forefront of their mind. It doesn't help that their autism manifests in verrrrry different ways and they don't really know them all that well in the first place. It's a bit awkward between them but they're okay with each other.
We had a bit of fun determining the heart point changes between each route. Personally, I think friendship decreases are hilarious. Also if you don't back up anyone in this situation then... 🤨
(1) Sebastian -
Ingo -100 | Emmet -250 | Sebastian +250 | Sam -5 | Abigail -15
(2) Ingo -
Ingo +40 | Emmet +5 | Sebastian -100 | Sam -20 | Abigail -25
(3) Emmet -
Ingo +25 | Emmet +30 | Sebastian -100 | Sam -5 | Abigail -5
(4) Sam and Abigail -
Ingo +20 | Emmet +5 | Sebastian -40 | Sam +50 | Abigail +50
(5) Nobody -
Ingo -50 | Emmet -200 | Sebastian -200 | Sam -50 | Abigail -50
I don't see friendship decreases as characters getting angry at you per se. It can always just be them feeling awkward and wanting to distance themselves from you for a bit. For example, if you reject Ingo in his 8 heart event, you get knocked down two hearts just so you can get more friendly-but-not-too-friendly dialogue before it stagnates again at 8 hearts.
The "true ending" is Sam and Abigail's route since they're fairly neutral picks. You should stand up for them! Sebastian would agree that him lashing out was wrong, but he just doesn't want to talk to you about it. Why would he? You would just lecture him or something.
Bad ending is not siding with anybody like a coward. Sebastian's being a bit of a bully here (mainly to a grown man a whole head taller than him, but still, his friends got caught in the crossfire) and if you're wishy-washy then that's just odd of you as the town's farmer and supposed protagonist that goes out of their way to befriend everyone. Not a good look.
Sebastian's route is a bit of a jab at how his romance plays out. A few people have mentioned Emmet and Sebastian being friends with each other under the reasoning that they're lonely autists (but mostly just being favorites, which I get) buuuut... Not sure why you would go for Sebastian when submas is right there. Pick one or the other. They're enemies here. I can't quite see them getting along past that surface-level analysis. Smoking alone is a hard No. from Emmet since birds are super sensitive to airborne toxins (so much so, you can't even have non-stick pans around them!) and he's protective over his defeatist of an Archeops.
Ingo's route is more for fun than anything. If you really want Ingo, you do get the most points with him for mentioning him, but he's confused as to why you're trying to win him over now of all times. He's concerned about Emmet first and foremost!
Emmet has trust issues so even the slightest red flag puts a quite a bit of distance between you. He has low point increases because it's hard to win his trust. In this situation, a point increase mostly just means you didn't do anything wrong. If you side with him, that's what you're supposed to do since he's the side against Sebastian. He may be getting picked on, but he's a bit of an instigator himself. His own route aside, Ingo would be most pleased to see you speak up for his brother. Ingo's route is only has the highest point increases for him because it's well, his.
As for the bar fight... It was a bit difficult to figure out how to make it play out believably and interestingly despite it being three New Yorkers against some grocery store owner. Ingo is more focused on defense, de-escalation, and protecting his passengers (in this case, the college kids). He can take a hit and doesn't want to resort to making any attacks unless absolutely necessary, so he was blocking for the most part. Had Ingo not been the designated grocery shopper, Pierre and Emmet probably would have already killed each other. Emmet doesn't have the patience to deal with Pierre. He thinks Reshiram will smite him for upcharging them and will take it upon himself to deliver the justice of truth. Emmet's swinging at Pierre. Unfortunately, he doesn't have the best defense nor balance when he's kicking and punching. Pierre's too drunk to talk about it, but even sober he suspects that submas are working with Joja because as far as he knows, he saw Morris walk away from the Railroad when they first arrived.
Ah yes. Joja stuff. *Realigns stacks of papers* Lets touch upon Joja here for a moment and Pierre's view of things. When Submas first came around. Pierre was already suspicious of them - more confused if anything - why are two major city boys who also- mind you- come from a foreign region and bring along Pokémon. Take interest in a small town? With an abandon railroad? Right off the bat he does not have a great view; he is worried about his store, his income, and family and this is stemmed all due to Joja Mart.
Now Pierre spots Morris heading towards the railroad - of course Pierre does not know what the interactions between Submas and Morris are. In his mind it's Submas making a deal to work with them or is already with them! Pierre already hates Morris as it is.
That is why he is so passive aggressive to Ingo and Emmet. Just this time around - Pierre is drunk... and Abigail's friend is being "annoyed" by them.
Well... outright agressive in this event haha. I don't quite remember how the idea was finalized, but we decided that they would get into a barfight when doing another "showing passenger relations at the Saloon" event.
As for Joja itself. I most definitely headcannon them in this whole crossover universe as the typical "bad guy" Pokémon team. However they have already won/succeeded (Pokémon are no longer in The Ferngill Republic....) However things are now being shaken up and changing.
I could go on and on about Joja and how I view them... but I think that will be a separate post (if people want to know)
The fight was a pain to debug. For one, Pierre kept running off into the void like a coward. Ingo's lines about staying behind the yellow line were made in the debugging phase because I got fed up with him for doing that.
Worse yet. 1.6 broke the Pokemon animations so now I have to go back into every event and redo everything (RIP green bean X-Scissor). The old method I was using no longer worked; before, I was using the addObject command. Now they show up as error signs because the sprites that were previously on the sheet called from were removed as they are not valid objects.
I ended up having to figure out the temporarySprites command to replace the "using a Pokeball" animation. There are no instances of it being used in vanilla. Nobody seemed to figure it out either, so I had to make a mini-event just to test its usage and figure it out.
I eventually did. Thanks to the help of my emotional support Emmet.
Ah yes... 1.6 has broken some events. Small things. (events are still playable) But we will definitely be revisiting some events to improve or make better. Or to just fix.
I have so much backtracking to do 😭😭😭😭😭 Oh well... I thought events were safe to work on since barely anything about them changed in 1.6... I was wrong.
The ending had quite a bit of revising for concision and tone. It was much more lighthearted in Kade's drafts, but I figured that Emmet is low on steam and probably would have gone nonverbal after everything. Too much passenger interaction for the day. He just wants to depart back to his home station.
Yeah there was a lot of dialog and exposition cut. (Hmm no wonder why it's only 13 minutes long. lol)
Only 13 minutes... Still a lot considering that most vanilla events are around the 1-3 minute mark...
Poor Emmet.. and Ingo. I won't lie, when first seeing the event I burst out laughing during the fistfight. Just somthing about Ingo suddenly collapsing due to Pierre. BUT THEY'RE OKAY - ISH.
It's a bit comical! I had fun ragdolling them. Emmet was going to be much more swingy in his attacks but I ended up not keeping it in since it just didn't look right when used as an animation frame.
We at least kept one of the rag-doll sprite as a "knock back" from Pierre. Which transitions well with his passed out sprite.
Until next time! Thank you for boarding!
#subway to stardew#submas#pokemon#stardew valley#ingo#emmet#elesa#sdv mods#subway to stardew terminal station
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Reading "One Piece" for the first time, Part 5:
So, pretty early on (about the time a murder clown nuked a village) I realised that escalation was basically a crapshoot in this series, and honestly one of its charms thus far.
Now the Idiot, the Himbo, the Cartographer with a Brain Cell and Meme in Progress Usopp are chilling at this floating fish restaurant. The Giga Chad Chef they met who kicked an entitled Karen in the face has now given free food to a pirate in need, because he's a pretty stand up guy. Nice touch honestly.
But now a man made of guns has arrived and declared war on the restaurant because he wants the logbook of the elderly chef who runs it (and has a pegleg, honestly I am surprised at the restraint in waiting this long for a peg leg on the author's part, though I am surprised also that it doesn't have a shotgun in it or an interdimensional portal to the food dimension, or something) so he can cross "The Grand Line" after a fuck load of his crew got their shit pushed in out there.
Naturally the restaurant and old man want him to shove it, so a fight ensues. I like the wholesome army of chefs who cannot work elsewhere and will defend this place until death, it's becoming a theme. This villain is kind of meh, especially after the Cat Guy in the last volume, and he keeps doing that thing of shooting his own dudes in the face which... okay man, great tactic.
Still, we get to see the Giga Chad (I think he's going to be my favourite) roundhouse spiral kick a bunch of dudes and that's honestly kind of cool. The Cartographer with a Brain Cell has pissed off with their ship and loot, which I should really have seen coming, but in my defence I was distracted by the chef pirate battle and the arrival of... I'll get to you...
I'm looking forward to them confronting her and getting their stuff back, I mean: they literally only just got this thing!
Anyway, the fight is fun, kinetic, vast, frantic, it's the first one which really busts free and does its own thing and isn't merely "Dragon Ball Z" showdowns (RIP Toriyama, King) between two guys in fields.
But then this fucking guy arrives.
"Dracule Mihawk", the man who cuts a ship in half. You can tell this series was started in the 90s, because he is cringe incarnate, he is the edgelord anime stereotype of a badass, spoken of like a whispering nightmare of death upon the wind. And honestly I find him super dull, super cliched and just not worth my time at all. Naturally he ends up stabbing the Himbo with only a small dagger and is going to be his nemesis for the series. I appreciate them bringing in a character who will be a recurring, soon to overcome villain, but for fuck's sake, can it be literally anyone else? I'll take that Morgan guy over him. I'll take the fucking Lion Tamer.
But no, we get this towering inferno of cringe.
Also, Usopp doesn't really have anything to do here, shame.
Anyway, now they're battling a man made of bin lids who calls himself "Pearl". Sure.
#One Piece#monkey d. luffy#Usopp#Meme in Progress#Roronoa Zoro#Nami#Sanji#Vinsmoke Sanji#Himbo#Giga Chad#Manga#Reading One Piece for the First Time
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wot deeper dive 2x5: damane
This specific post I am going to avoid any spoilers from the books! I will be doing another post later today that includes those spoilers and related thoughts.
Starting with a bigger introduction to the Seanchan. I love how much the show has worked to set them apart from our familiar Westlands characters. Everything about them -- their clothing, their mannerisms, their accents (their background music) -- all works together to convey the knowledge that they are different from the Westlands characters.
2. We learn some very important things in this first scene:
a. Suroth attacked that village on her own initiative (aka because of Ishamael), which means that Ishamael was having her search for Perrin under the cloak of ranging out for more damane and territory, and that specific attack was not ta'veren coincidence.
b. Suroth is not the leader of the invaders; High Lord Turak is. We also get to really see the dynamics of who is allowed to look at who and who is allowed to talk to who.
c. Ishamael lets Suroth take the fall for attacking the village before he reveals the thing that could have let her off the hook (the Horn of Valere). And Turak is definitely paying close attention to the dynamic between Suroth and Ishamael.
d. Turak, as a 'collector of ancient oddities' was able to open the box containing the Horn of Valere.
e. Loial and Ingtar are dressed up in a very specific and fancy style, and Suroth makes a point of mentioning that Ingtar is a 'lord' (and called Loial an 'Ogier slave').
f. We really see some different levels here, showing Seanchan society. I love the variety of styles! They're all in the same general theme (the shaved sides of the heads for the high status people and the longer fingernails) but they each have their own distinct style. And each of them has their own slave with a parasol and the slaves have individual styles as well -- picked out by their masters, one assumes. And none of the Seanchan sitting and watching the show here have nails as long as Suroth or Turak. Turak is the only one with the fancy gold nail protectors that extend all the way down the nail (Suroth has long nails but no extra protection behind the small band at the finger).
g. If Loial and Ingtar are dressed as some variety of slave, then the people standing behind Turak who are also dressed in that sort of seafoam-green clothing are likely slaves of the same rank. Looks like one of them is holding a tray of pastries, so that tracks.
h. Turak says that their mission here in the Westlands is to unite the people of the world to fight the Shadow, which means that he does not know that Suroth is a darkfriend and it makes it clear that the Seanchan as a whole are not actively fighting 'for' the Shadow. They believe that they are in the right, which is very important to know for their motivations going forward, I think. He's upset with Suroth because she's moving too fast -- Turak wants them to consolidate their position here first and only push out and take lands that they know they can hold (and we know that's true, because we will learn later in this episode that the Whitecloaks have taken it from the Seanchan).
i. The reaction when Suroth's nails get shortened is very telling. It makes it even more clear what a status symbol they are, as Suroth is basically told that Turak isn't going to let her be part of the ruling council again until her nails grow back out.
Great opening scene. Chilling. We learned so much about the Seanchan!
3. The chase scene between Rand & Moiraine and Lanfear is informative in so many ways. We see Moiraine's ruthlessness (she kills the horse and sets up the stable mistress to most likely be killed as a decoy); we see that she knows Rand better than she did when she was trying to convince him to follow her last season (she promises to tell him everything once they are out of immediate danger); we see how lethal and ruthless Lanfear is and how she enjoys causing suffering; and we see Moiraine's cleverness (the entire horse plan).
We also have the beginning of Rand getting devastating news that he needs to process -- last season, he dealt with that by going into severe denial for six episodes about what his father told him and what that might mean re: being the Dragon Reborn, but he's not doing that here. He has to come to terms with the idea that he's been having sex with one of the monsters from the stories that people tell about the end of the last Age but he doesn't try to pretend that it's not true at any point. Both Rand and Moiraine stay more grounded in reality here than they were last season (Rand hid in denial while Moiraine kept leaning on wishful thinking).
And we know from Moiraine's terrible wound last season that Aes Sedai cannot heal themselves with the One Power, so the fact that Lanfear CAN heal herself shows what an immense power gap was here even before Moiraine's ability to touch the Source was taken away. What Lanfear uses to heal herself also looks very different from the weaves of the One Power that we've been seeing all this time (including from both Ishamael and Lanfear).
4. Lanfear checking in with the stable mistress about who appeared to be in charge between Rand & Moiraine and noting that it was Moiraine and mentioning that she must remember how young Rand is. I was definitely thinking that she would probably place the majority (and potentially all) of the blame for what happened on Moiraine and not on Rand. Rand is young! He was led astray by this awful Aes Sedai 'bitch'. He just needs to be led back to the correct path! She can Fix Him (by breaking him). Lanfear can definitely still have her happy ending that she sold herself to the Shadow to get! I love her instant change in vibe now that she's not pretending to be Selene. "Is there anything slower than a horse?" And, of course, we know from the 3000 years ago flashback that they had some sweet technology back in the previous Age.
5. Perrin's scene here with Elyas is so good. We got hints in the previous episodes that Elyas is detached from humanity as a whole, but this scene really shows its... teeth about that. When Perrin realizes that Elyas lied to him and is leading him away from the caravan that kidnapped his companions, he immediately gets upset. He wants to learn more about what's happening to him but not at the cost of losing everything that he loves. Perrin's storyline in season 2 really has been absolutely fantastic.
We learn here that Perrin's eyes are going to completely switch over at some point.
6. Perrin has been getting progressively more and more upset after he realizes that Elyas lied about where he was taking Perrin (and Perrin had even mentioned last episode that he was worried they were going the wrong way and Elyas 'reassured' him by telling him that wolves don't get lost) but it's the mention of his wife that gets him to snap and leave Elyas behind. It must feel like a real betrayal, since he knows that Elyas is aware of his nightmares about Laila's death. That Elyas can know how deeply he grieves her and still dismiss her that way. She's 'not his pack' (she was not a wolf), so she doesn't matter.
7. We do get it fairly clearly stated here that the Forsaken were individually trapped by the previous Dragon and thus will be released individually as well (last episode implied it but now it's directly stated). I will note that for all that Moiraine mentioned she would tell Rand 'everything', she does not tell Rand that Lanfear was in love with the previous Dragon until the end of the episode, when she's decided that he needs to face Lanfear instead continuing to run.
8. I love that Hopper came back to try to help Perrin! I continue to love the way that they are showing how the wolves communicate with each other. Sad note: Hopper's actor doesn't get mentioned in the x-ray that pops up when you pause the show.
I love Perrin touching on the 'they didn't even bury him' idea after we had Ingtar showing respect even to the Darkfriend in the previous episode and giving him a burial. That Uno is being used as a prop, even after his death, to show how brutal the Seanchan are (and! being used that way by the Whitecloaks too, since they also didn't take him down and bury him).
9. Introducing... Aviendha. She gets a good introduction here -- she tries to help Perrin avoid running into the same danger she ran into, into coming into the wrong town at the wrong time; we learn about how dangerous she is (oh, Dain mentions that the last man who touched the cage got his arm broken -- we later see Valda with his arm in a sling). "You can't trust an Aiel," Perrin is told by Dain.
10. Dain Bornhald is another character introduction -- he survives the episode, so it's a safe bet that he'll be seen again. He's quite friendly with Perrin, and also quite observant -- he notices that Perrin is wearing a ring that looks of Two Rivers' make, he warns Perrin about not trying to help the Aiel woman, because he can tell that Perrin is uncomfortable with her being caged up.
There's also a lot of tension between Dain and Valda, once he shows up. Valda dislikes that Dain gave Aviendha water; Dain is amused when the small dog scares Valda (because he's got wolf-related trauma now); and Valda is of the opinion that Dain only holds power because his dad is important in the Whitecloaks.
11. This Verin plotline really is so delightful. It's actually a good parallel to Alanna's plotline in the last episode -- both of them are trying to ferret out information because they're worried about the current situation, and both of them encounter troubling hints that fellow Aes Sedai may be involved with the Shadow. But I love the comradery that we see here between Verin and her fellow Brown Ajah Sisters. Her two Sisters are just so instantly charming and I loved getting to see her talking with them.
12. Nynaeve and Liandrin's conversation is so good. Nynaeve figuring out that, all this time, Liandrin has been trying to recruit her for the Shadow and not for the Red Ajah. Liandrin has known from the beginning that Nynaeve was never going to pick the Red Ajah. But she had hopes about Nynaeve choosing the Dark...
We also get some nice history that expands on the lore of the Three Oaths from another (very biased) PoV.
Nynaeve sees right through Liandrin, though, and calls her out on trying to justify her choices, even now that they've taken her to places she genuinely dislikes.
13. Alwhin, Suroth's Voice, being ordered out of the room with everyone else (by Ishamael!) does imply to me that she isn't aware of who he is and doesn't know that Suroth is a Darkfriend.
We get our first (but not our last!) Darkfriend vs Darkfriend spat of the episode! I really loved that this episode is starting to explore the weaknesses of the Shadow, even as we're seeing how dangerous they are as well. They don't all agree on what they want or what means to take to get there. They hold each other in contempt (Suroth trying to tell Ishamael, leader of the Forsaken, that he's here on her sufferance because she's of the Blood and he's not... what an amazing moment that shows that as much as Suroth is a Darkfriend, she is still very much of her own culture as well).
Suroth is Big Mad at Ishamael for essentially throwing her under the bus. He was the one who ordered her to the village but she is the one who paid the price for it (as much as she calls Liandrin's Ishamael's 'dog' later in the episode, she is also very much on his leash, as he proves here when he yanks on it and she acknowledges that he's above her).
14. The second mention of a fight in the skies; Ishamael says that the Last Battle is going to happen here. Ishamael believes that the Last Battle is about to be won in Falme -- it seems like the reason that he believes that is because he thinks that Rand is about to fall over to their side. That's the first hint we have that he's confident to the point of arrogance imo (we'll get more later).
15. Everything about Aviendha and Perrin's conversation is great. "People shouldn't be in cages". The contrast between Aviendha's formal introduction of herself and Perrin just going "I'm Perrin... Aybara". And then the fight! We get to see Aviendha in action and everyone who might have forgotten about the fight in the cold open of 1x7 likely remembers it now. I love Aviendha's amusement over Perrin trying to be protective. "Perrin Aybara, do you like to dance?" and the confusion on his face every time she says something that he doesn't understand.
16. Moiraine does not tell Rand here that she can't channel (he may have guessed, but she didn't tell him). She only tells him that she can't use the One Power to keep them awake. We know that Moiraine is secretive and I think that a lot of the confusion earlier in the season over whether she's stilled or shielded also comes from both her and Lan being incredibly secretive and only sharing information on a need-to-know basis. She tells Rand about Tel'aran'rhoid because it is an active danger that he needs to stay wary of -- if he sleeps, then Lanfear will be able to reach him.
(I'm also hoping that show-onlys took note of what Moiraine said here and went back and rewatched the red coat sex scene with this new knowledge in mind)
I do not think that Moiraine told Alanna & co that she couldn't channel. All they know is that she doesn't want Lan around anymore and Alanna's plotline in 2x4 was all about the three of them trying to figure out why Moiraine dumped Lan (that plotline made so much more sense once I realized it was an Alanna plotline and not a Lan plotline). I think, out of necessity, that she told Verin & co that she couldn't channel and they likely assumed that she burned out, which is a known hazard (well, Verin may not have actually assumed that, given what she says to Moiraine in 2x2, but she let Moiraine believe that she assumed it). So I think a large part of the 'mystery' around Moiraine is simply because she doesn't tell anyone anything unless she believes that she absolutely has to. Now, luckily, she has realized that Rand NEEDS more information from her because it helps him trust her, so she is telling him a lot more than she did last season.
17. I am also going to note how incredibly similarly Rand and Moiraine are dressed here. The show did that a lot last season too (with the addition that Egwene was also dressed similarly to the two of them in s1, though that wasn't possible this season due to her needing to wear novice whites).
18. I loved the scene with Rand and all the Damodreds. Them mistaking Rand for Moiraine's Warder and her trying to will him to go along with the lie and her despairing, "This is.... Rand" when he reveals that he is not her Warder. Lady Anvaere revealing to Moiraine that she's already met Rand, which does not seem to be information that she shared with Moiraine over their tea session, given Moiraine's reaction. And Moiraine interacting so awkwardly with her nephew Barthanes.
We also get the information that the upcoming royal wedding will be in a few weeks.
19. Poor Rand is just getting so much new information thrown at him. Though at least he's had more sleep than Moiraine, he did just spend all night walking to Cairhien. Moiraine starts out with the idea that they just need to run as fast and far as they can, but Anveare makes her rethink her plans. She gets Moiraine to stop and think about the situation as a whole -- IS Rand actually in danger from Lanfear? If he is in danger, what kind of danger is it? And would running actually fix any of that when they know that she can get to him in his dreams? I think the show did a really good job of showing why Moiraine decided not to keep running here.
20. Verin and Sheriam's conversation is very good, how she feels out the situation with Sheriam and then sets up a reason for them both to need to leave the room together so that her friend can sneak in and check out Sheriam's book. And what we see of the confusion on Sheriam's face here tracks with Verin wondering about the possible of Compulsion later on.
21. Yasicca of the Brown Ajah is absolutely charming. I love her accent. I hope we get to see more of her in the future. If the show continues to follow up on the Black Ajah thread that they've laid out here, Yasicca could be a major player (... or she might be destined to be killed off because she gets too close to the truth. oh, that's sad! I like her so much already and I barely know her!). I also loved that we got to see the writing in the show. Verin is very good about starting conversations and letting the other person finish it, giving them prompts as appropriate.
22. Our second Darkfriend vs Darkfriend spat occurs as Liandrin delivers the Wondergirls into slavery. I do think that Liandrin was definitely holding onto the Power this entire conversation. The way that the damane who pointed out the girls in the village looks at her feels like she can sense it. She also looks mournful when she's caught Egwene, imo. I really like how this episode is showing the cracks in the Dark.
23. I'm not going to get into Egwene's (horrible, heartbreaking) situation too much here because it's clear that the next episode is going to go into a lot more detail.
24. Aviendha and Perrin continue to be a delight. She's very patient with him but she teases him too. We also learn here that she's searching for the Aiel's chief of chiefs, their Car'a'carn. Just a genuinely lovely scene. And Hopper just hanging out with them!
I love that Aviendha doesn't even ask why they're going to Falme. She goes where he goes! She owes him a debt! He'll tell her if he decides to!
25. Elayne trying to be helpful while Nynaeve is just spiky because she barely knows this girl: understandable! Good thing Ryma's Warder found them!
26. A great conversation between Verin and Liandrin here. Liandrin's attempt to ~casually lean~ against the wall when she sees Verin genuinely made me laugh. Verin, of course, is now following up on the thread that she asked Yasicca to investigate for her -- anyone who has left the Tower in recent days. Liandrin makes the big mistake of liars here in that she talks too much and gives too many details.
27. Seeing Moiraine's exhaustion here was so good and so important. She's so tired but she can't sleep! And I really love the conversation between her and Anvaere. We also find out here that their father was kind-hearted and Barthanes takes after him. I love that Anvaere knows Moiraine well enough to tell that she's at a loss for her next move. We really get to see Anvaere's perceptiveness here. And Moiraine trying to figure out how much is safe to tell.
28. Darkfriend vs Darkfriend spat number three. Though this one comes with a side of how much they both are desperately obsessed with Rand. Also, Lanfear & Ishamael imply here that Lanfear's big plan last episode was to reveal her identity to Rand. Given what he says in an upcoming scene ("You want me to pretend to be in love with a Forsaken?"), I'm... uh, not sure that conversation would have gone the way that she wanted. But, yes, Ishamael confirms here that he's our True Believer of the Forsaken/Chosen, while Lanfear just wants her ex back. Lol, the way they stare at their imagined Rand for a while cracks me up.
29. I also think this conversation gives us our second big moment of Ishamael being overconfident to the point of arrogance, in his assessment of the ta'veren five. He thinks that all of them are on the cusp of being broken:
a. that Egwene craves power (though the viewers know from last episode that she wants power explicitly to protect the people she cares about and not for its own sake)
b. that Nynaeve fears her power (not necessarily wrong, but it also doesn't mean that her fear will lead her into aligning with the Dark; an option that she just firmly rejected from Liandrin)
c. that Mat was 'born mine' which is following on a thread that was set up last season, where both Moiraine and Mat himself worry that the world would be doomed if Mat were the Dragon
d. and that Perrin is going to soon be 'more wolf than man' (but the viewers just saw him refuse to isolate himself from his friends and refuse to disconnect from humanity)
And Lanfear believes that if Rand sees that his friends have fallen to the Shadow, that he will break.
The only one of them that's actually under Ishamael's power right now is Egwene, captured by the Seanchan.
30. I find it fascinating that Alwhin, Ingtar, and Loial all appear as part of Ishamael's entourage when he's summoned to speak with Turak, even though Suroth isn't there yet. We get another name -- the Court of the Nine Moons -- and we learn that he's the one who saw the omens that led to the Seanchan mounting this attack on the Westlands.
31. We're only just barely introduced to Ryma and her Warder, but I'm looking forward to seeing more of them (probably next episode). She's going to be able to give them all the info on the Seanchan (that we are going to see played out with Egwene - ugh this collar scene is so heartbreaking).
The sul'dam who collars Egwene doesn't have the facepaint. I wonder if they only wear that when they're actively working as part of the armies or guard. Hmm, but the sul'dam standing on Egwene's other side does have the facepaint, so I don't know. X-ray confirms that her name is Renna. The magic of the collar itself has almost a sci-fi or steampunk vibe. It forms almost like gears. We see a 'leash' of the One Power going from Renna to Egwene and then she puts an actual leash, a chain, on Egwene's collar.
It really is hard to watch.
32. Moiraine and Rand. Going off to a bedroom together. Barthanes and Anvaere have a lot to think about in terms of hot gossip. I really do like Rand and Moiraine's conversation here. Rand's realization of what Moiraine is asking him to do here (catfish one of the Forsaken, as someone put it) is very well done. But, wow, Rand clearly has not had a chance to process any of his trauma from their relationship so him diving right in to confront her is definitely a dangerous choice.
Their conversation in TAR I'll save for when we actually get it in the next episode (I'm assuming). But Lanfear certainly knows how to set a scene.
#butterfly watches wot#wot#wheel of time#wot on prime#wot show spoilers#wot prime spoilers#wot s2 spoilers#wheel of time s2 spoilers#wot 2x5 spoilers
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my friend asked me for murder show recs and i put together a list of a bunch of them and thought i'd also share it here in case anyone else who was not raised by the glow of mystery! on pbs might want an intro. extremely subjective commentary, obvs. enjoy.
hello. welcome to the world of finding television shows about people getting killed comforting. it's fucked up, but who isn't. here's a list of the ones i like and why and where to watch them.
midsomer murders (1997-current): this is one of those sterotypical "it ran for 25 years and did nearly 18 episodes" british shows. it was adapted from a book series, which are the early eps. they're really fucked up and great imo. the later ones lose that sharpness, but until seasons 20+ i think it's a really solid show. the theme song is performed on a theremin. pluses: every great british actor shows up at least once, incredibly great deaths, lots of hyper niche hobby groups, tom barnaby is the best. minuses: showrunner brian true-may quoted as saying that his version of "english countryside" is entirely white. he was booted from the show at that point, however. i've watched the entire series 2-3 times, except for s5e3 "Ring Out Your Dead" because there's a death in it that i found particularly tragic the first time i watched it and have no desire to revisit it (but ymmv). robyn's fave ep is s3e3 "Judgement Day," because a brass band plays the show's theme song at a village fete and also Orlando Bloom is run through with a pitchfork. (ACORN)
Poirot (1989-2013): truly the goat. David Suchet bodies this role. i don't know how familiar you are with christie, but hercule poirot was her recurring detective character, a fastidious little belgian living in 1930s England. in this show, it's the late 1930s for 20 years, and the sets and costumes are so good. not a single streamline moderne property in england is overlooked. the early episodes are short--40ish minutes each--but they transition to 90 minutes at some point. they adapt all of the poirot books, with the big ones--murder on the orient express and death on the nile--done as higher budget tv movies. (BRITBOX)
marple (2004-2013): another christie adaptation, with 2 actresses playing miss marple in sequence. they also adapted a bunch of non-marple stories to have miss marple in them. set post-WWII, mainly countryside english mysteries. (BRITBOX)
miss fisher's murder mysteries (2012-2015, film in 2020): set in 1920s melbourne, mfmm follows independently wealthy private eye phryne fisher. it's an adaptation of modern novels, so it's less conservative than the christies. phryne's best friend is a suit-wearing lesbian doctor. it's a sharp, smart show, and phryne herself (as well as her relationship with buttoned-up detective jack robinson) is very sexy. it ran three seasons and was followed by a crowd-funded film in 2020, which isn't GOOD, but it is FUN. there's another a spin-off set in the 1960s called miss fisher's modern mysteries, which follows phryne's niece. again--not good, but fun. nothing beats the og series tho. (ACORN)
lewis (2006-2015): this is technically a spin-off of the inspector morse series, which started in the 80s, but i've never watched it so you should be fine. this follows very un-academic inspector lewis and his very academic assistant DS hathaway in EXTREMELY academic oxford england. i really dig the pacing of this, as well as how profoundly weird smart people can be. the big downside is the actor who played hathaway is laurence fox, who's a real stinker of a dude. right-wing, racist, etc. so. ymmv. (BRITBOX)
vera (2011-current): vera is a nearly retired, irascible, set in her ways detective in northumberland. she heads her own department, so part of the appeal is definitely trim youngsters dashing to do her bidding with a "yes mum." she drives a huge old land rover, wears a raincoat everywhere, has no patience for class barriers, and in short i love her. in the newer seasons there is also a detective in her squad called Jaq who is a very cute butch. (BRITBOX)
dalgliesh (2021-current): adaptation of pd james novels following detective-poet adam dalgliesh. set in the 1970s, which sets it apart and which i quite enjoy. his character is really sensitive and thoughtful is a way that's unusual for cop shows. (ACORN)
annika (2021-current): i'm gonna dive into some of the weirder ones now. annika is still pretty serious, but the title character has a habit of breaking the 4th wall to loop the audience in on the meta nature of her thoughts--usually relating to a book or story. it's set in glasgow and they investigate marine crime specifically. annika is played by nicola walker, who full disclosure i find VERY attractive. she's norwegian, she's odd, and she's trying her best. she has a teenage daughter who's gay. (PBS)
queens of mystery (2019-current): this one is VERY odd. think british murders meets pushing daisies. there's a narrator, and occasional technicolor flights of fancy. it follows a very serious detective who was raised by her three aunts after her mother was killed. she comes back to work in her home town and has to navigate both sides of her life, plus still wanting to know who killed her mother. production was interrupted by covid, so the main actress changed between seasons, but the new person is also very good. (ACORN)
brokenwood mysteries (2014-current): this one is sort of...sillier than the rest? it's a new zealand show set in a small town. it's fairly queer (although not nearly queer enough), and one of the things i love the most about it is it maintains a roster of recurring characters (which i think is only possible because of the small size of the NZ film industry). pretty good maori rep, especially jared, a local who seems to know or be related in some way to everyone in town. i adore him. he's off the show now, and i miss him. (ACORN)
mcdonald & dodds (2020-current): set in bath, this is an odd couple partnership of an ambitious young cop lately from london and a shy older cop who has lived in bath all his life and hasn't seen action in a decade. their interactions are funny and lovely, and it's refreshing to see a black woman character allowed to be ambitious. (BRITBOX)
#took out the julie mentions left in the robyn mention#because their love of a tv show playing its theme song on the show is so funny and i love it#gentle murders#this is like. half the length this list could have been#and that's not even getting into the mini-series
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The live action ATLA is amazing. 9.5/10. I didn't love everything about it, but there are so so so so many good parts and I'm so glad that Netflix decided to make this. I've seen a lot of weird criticism from long time fans and maybe I just haven't been in the fandom long enough, but. I absolutely think it's worth giving a watch if you go in with a semi blank slate. The Netlfix series is not trying to be an exact scene by scene remake of the show.
The thing about it that you have to remember when you go in is that they said they were going to change the tone of the show, and they did, and it works! It's not the same. It's not a comedy. It's funny, but it's not a comedy. Character motivations were changed to fit the darker theme. It's using Avatar as source material and intends to be an adaption, not a reconstruction of the series.
Katara is much more traumatized about her mom's death, which made sense! She was murdered in front of her. She's afraid to take on a maternal role because of that. She's quieter and softer because she's afraid and she's healing from her mother's murder. Katara in the series made sense, too, but I feel like someone looked at her and went! Wait. Smol child is maybe...not okay??? I have faith they will build her up as the seasons progress if they continue.
Hakoda is disappointed in Sokka barely passing his trial. Makes sense! They're at war! Sokka has to take care of the village, of course Hakoda has high expectations for him. And the thing is--Hakoda still trusted Sokka with the responsibility of the village anyway, so his disappointment in Sokka's trial didn't stop his faith in his son. And honestly, I think it's fine that Hakoda is not a perfect parent who never makes mistakes. Parents rant about their kids to their friends all the time. It's healthy because they're not doing it in front of, or to, their kid. Hakoda didn't know Sokka was listening. So. Idk. Sokka doesn't go through his misogyny is bad actually arc, and while I missed it, I thought he functioned really well in this story without it. And for the record!!!! Sokka STILL makes stupid jokes the entire season. He didn't lose his sense of humor.
Aang feeling so much guilt about leaving? Yep! I can vibe with that. I missed his innocence and playfulness, but I feel like this wasn't a bad take on the character either. He was still playful, but in the world they live in, it would make sense that he feels terrible for leaving. And everyone they encounter takes it upon them to rub it in his face so why wouldn't he feel bad or out of place?? Especially after Bumi. Everyone says he needs to face this alone, and Aang learning that he doesn't have to?? Powerful!! Is it the same arc as s1 of the show? No! It's not supposed to be!
Zuko's actor was perfectly cast. That boy IS Zuko. The scence at the end of e6 made me cry because it was so powerful with the 41st, and that felt so EARNED after episodes of watching Zuko's crew despise him to suddenly realizing the only reason they're alive is because of him and realizing it's an honor to shelter him. Zuko drawing Aang to pin him on his disaster wall was amazing. Him getting hit by some random woman for attacking Aang? Amazing. Him sitting next to Iroh during Lu Ten's funeral? So soft. The Agni Kai really rubbed people the wrong way, but I think it was interesting that they decided to have Zuko showing compassion be the root of Ozai's anger. He showed compassion to the 41st, he shows compassion to his father, and when Ozai has defeated him, he has him on the ground and could walk away, and he chooses to burn his face. It's not exactly the same as the show, but again, it's not intending to be.
Azula being here was interesting. I don't know if I loved Zhao being incapable of doing anything without her, but it works for what it is. Zhao is intended to be annoying and he was! So. 10/10. She cried when Zuko got his scar! Ozai playing the long hand of terrible abusive tactics made me want to bite him. Because Ozai doesn't care about Zuko. He uh. Made that pretty clear when he banished him and then at the end when he's explicitly told Zuko might have died at Agna Qel'a and he's like ????????? Am I supposed to care??? We've gotten rid of weakness. So??? Like he used Zuko to force Azula to become more ruthless. He used Zuko to shape her. I do hope we get more exploration of Ty Lee and Mai so they aren't Faceless Blorb Friends, but I just don't think there was really time in s1.
The parts they chose to remove and add into the story was interesting. You got to explore the story for the first time again. I definitely think both versions have merit and are deeply enjoyable, I just don't think you should go in expecting it to be exactly the same thing? I was happy to see a new take on the story, but that might be because I knew that it was going to be darker and the characters would adapt to that. I do hope we can get more of the vibe of the show's humor in season 2 if we get season 2, and Katara feels little more like her show-counter part because I missed her, but honestly, I do recommend to a friend.
Or at the very least, if you absolutely refuse to watch it, PLEASE go watch the last 1/2 of episode 6 with Zuko and the 41st because I CANNOT.
+THEY ACTUALLY PRONOUCED EVERYONE'S NAMES CORRECTLY #bareMinimumAward
#avatar the last airbender#avatar live action#Netflix Avatar#netflix avatar spoilers#atla#idk#my two cents#i binged the whole thing and I had fun#i haven't wanted to binge anything in forever#but I hope they get renewed because I'd love to see their take on s2 and 3
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Yo I need number 8 on your namor prompt list PLS 🙏🏾 I honestly live for your fics!
Pairing: Namor x fem!reader
Warning: ooc!Namor (tbh not a lot he's already mean as himself), no plot just angst, hint of yandere, suggestive theme, don't read if you're uncomfortable with it
A/n: dialogue prompt #8: "Áantení! P’atéen tíin juunaj! (Help! Leave me alone!)" ― "Silent!"
Summary: Namor is a king, and a king gets whatever he wants, even if it's by force.
"Stop crying; you're irritating me." Namor growled as he watched Y/n sobbing her heart out in one corner. The poor woman was squeezing herself into it, trying to be as small as possible.
Namor could only glare at Y/n, his eyes focused on her tear-stained face. "If you cry for another second, I will destroy your village on land."
"No! P-Please... I will stop." Y/n quickly wiped her puffy red eyes, swallowing hard at Namor's threat. She can't let everyone in danger just because of her selfishness—how ironic that they're the ones who selfishly threw her away to Namor in the first place.
Y/n bites her lips when thinking back to the conversation she had with the elderly.
'You're the only one who is worthy enough to sacrifice to the god'
What nonsense! The village only picks her because she's a nobody, the black sheep among everyone, the person that no one will miss even if they goes missing.
But that won't stop Y/n from fighting for her freedom and her life.
"Please...please let me free; I'm begging you." Y/n start to crawl towards Namor, knowing that being submissive to the king is the only option.
The woman can physically hear the heartbeat hammering in her chest, waiting for Namor's answer. He is sitting on his throne, his eyes full of boredom; someone could even say he will let out a yawn at any moment.
"No."
Namor spit out one word before smirking, enjoying Y/n's frantic reaction; she's on the verge of a breakdown, and to him, the show has just begun.
"What do you mean?! Please I'm worthless to you, I- You won't even know what to do with me-"
"Who said I wouldn't know what to do with you?" Namor cut Y/n off before slowly walking towards her like a predator to a prey. The king likes to tease around a bit, but his patience has run thin and he doesn't want to wait any longer.
Y/n's thoughts run wild when Namor gets closer and closer to her. The "flight or fight" instinct turned on like a switch inside her; she decided to run but quickly got caught by Namor.
"You think you can run?" Namor grabbed Y/n's face, squeezing her cheeks. " In yakunaj (my love), I'm disappointed in y-ARG!"
Y/n has used all her strength to bite down on Namor's hand, making the man let go of her in surprise.
"Áantení! P’atéen tíin juunaj! (Help! Leave me alone!)"
"Silent!" Namor becomes angry when Y/n still doesn't accept her fate yet; she now belongs to him, to Talokan. "This is your home now, and you don't run away from your home."
"No..no..how could you..how could you do that to me?!" Y/n fell to her knees, crying in agony after listening to what Namor said.
How could this be her home? She missed her real "home," a place with fresh breeze blowing her hair and blazing hot sun on her skin.
Namor just stood aside and watched everything. Sooner or later, Y/n will enjoy living here with him; he will make sure of that.
Even if it's by force.
#namor x y/n#namor x reader#namor fic#namor imagine#namor x you#k'uk'ulkan#k'uk'ulkan x reader#k'uk'ulkan x you#black panther wakanda forever#mcu namor#mcu x reader#mcu imagine#mcu fic#tenoch huerta namor#tenoch x reader
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Until It Doesn’t Hurt
Chapter 11: So Long and Lost
Summary:
20 years since the RDA was pushed off of the moon of Pandora, they are back once more. The RDA thinks their only problem is the traitor Jake Sully and his family, but as it turns out, Jake wasn’t the only ‘problem’ left behind 20 years ago.
Anthe was a child soldier, stolen from their home and forced to learn the ways of the humans, erasing any of their connections to the Na’vi from before. Finally free from the RDA’s hold after being trapped in cryosleep, they're about to make themselves everyone's problem.
---
Tenak has entered the chat, Neteyam struggles to adapt, Anthe and Spider get bad news
_____________________________________________
Pairing: Aged Up!Neteyam X Nonbinary!Na'vi!Reader/OC (OC and Neteyam are both around 20)
Warnings: Mentions of Past Violence, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mild Claustrophobia, No Use of Y/N, Blood, Self-depreciation, Neglectful Parenting, Suggestive Themes, Mutual Pining, Hurt-Comfort, Found Family
WC: 3672 words. AO3 Link Here
A/N: Okay its been a sec! I graduated college (yaay) and also had my laptop and switch stolen in the same day (;~;) SO, this took me a minute to finish. Also thank you to everyone who has been liking and reblogging my doodles!
I feel like I should also note that I still have not played Frontiers of Pandora so, there are obviously going to be differences. I'm staying away from using too many explicit references, or else im gonna frustrate myself when i actually do get to play the game lol
{ } indicate speaking Na'vi
Masterlist
Previous Next
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One of Tenak’s clearest memories of his childhood was the first time had met Anthe. He was thirteen years old, the oldest child to have been taken just a few years prior. There were only three others then, all between eight and eleven, and all looking to him for safety and guidance. Anthe arrived with three more children, nine years old and full of spite and fire. The others that came with them were even smaller, six and seven at most, clinging to Anthe’s legs, trying to hide from the strangers that had killed their families and stole them from their homes.
Tenak watched through the classroom window with Kala, a girl from his village that had been stolen with him, waiting to see what would happen with this new group of Na’vi children. They watched the RDA soldiers try to drag Anthe and the other kids towards the classroom. The smaller children went more easily, still too scared to fight back, but not Anthe. Tenak watched the younger child kick and hiss at the soldiers. Teacher tried to step in, urging the soldiers to stop trying to force the child to go, but the soldiers were already angry, and Anthe was still kicking and cursing at anything that tried to get too close.
So, Tenak made a choice. He left the classroom, pushing past Teacher and the soldiers and putting himself between them and the child. Someone tried to grab him, and drag him back into the classroom as well, but at thirteen Tenak was already taller and stronger than the human soldiers, and could easily brush them back. He stuck out a hand to who he would soon know to be Anthe, helping them back to their feet where the soldiers had pushed them down. They eyed him warily, as Teacher was frantically trying to keep the soldiers from escalating things further.
“{Why do you dress like them?}” Anthe’s voice was small but accusatory. Tenak looked down at himself, clad in the TAP issue pants and shirt he wore. By contrast, this new child still wore their more traditional Na’vi clothes, a woven and beaded top with matching tewng.
“{They took my clothes.}” He said simply, his mother tongue feeling rusty in his own mouth. “{They will take yours too, and anything else you have.}” The child swallowed, curling in on themselves protectively.
“Hey! English only! You know the rules!” One of the soldiers grabbed Tenak by the arm, shouting in his face.
“They do not know English yet.” He hissed back through gritted teeth. “They are confused, and will not listen until they know what’s going on.” There was a moment of tension, Tenak staring down the soldier holding him, ears pinned back against his skull.
“Then do your explaining back in the classroom.” The soldier finally relented, shoving the children towards the door. Anthe was less resistant this time, holding close to Tenak as he quietly ushered them into the room, Teacher close behind them. The three other new children were all huddled together around Kala, sniffling and sobbing into her shirt. She was only eleven, and already acting like a mother hen for all the younger children.
“Okay.” Teacher let out a shaky breath, closing the door behind her. “New agenda for the day, we are going to help our new friends get adjusted.” Her smile when she turned back to the eight Na’vi children did not meet her eyes, and Tenak could see the anxiety in the shake of her hands.
Over the next several hours, Tenak and Kala helped Teacher clean up and dress the new children in TAP uniforms. More soldiers came and went, taking away the children’s old clothes and songcords, but while there were many tears, this time there was less fighting. Anthe, as Tenak finally managed to get their name, refused to make a single sound or acknowledge anyone but him. Not once did they cry, only gritting their teeth and clenching their fists as even more was taken from them. That was the last day any of them were allowed to speak Na’vi freely and without punishment, the last day they had even the smallest taste of home, and the first day of the rest of their lives.
Ten years they stayed in TAP, losing their language and stories with the passage of time. Ten years trapped in a cage that turned them into weapons against their own people. All the younger ones were gone now and all that was left were Tenak, Kala, and Anthe. But, Anthe hadn’t woken up when he and Kala had. They had lost fifteen years of their lives to the cryopods and Anthe was still asleep.
Every year, for the last five years, he had made a point of going back to TAP and checking on Anthe in their pod. When he and Kala had first woken up, Anthe’s pod was the only other one to have not gone completely dark already. They had tried everything they could think of to get their younger sibling out and nothing had worked. So Tenak took to waiting, going back as often as he could, waiting for Anthe to wake up.
However, he had gotten caught up in the new RDA invasion, trying to protect the new friends and clans he had met in the Western Frontier of Pandora, and now Anthe was gone. Tenak had returned to where Kala was staying with the Aranahe clan in a panic, Pandora was a big place and their younger sibling could be anywhere. Kala was significantly calmer about the news, reassuring him that Anthe would find their way back to them. She had always been the wisest of their family and a mother figure to the younger of them.
“They are strong, Tenak. Anthe knows how to take care of themselves.”
“But they are alone! And you know they hate about being around strangers. They’re not going to stay with another clan.” Tenak knew Anthe too well, and knew their anxiety about being an outsider. He had struggled with it as well before he and Kala had met the clans in the west.
“We don’t know that. There are many clans, it's entirely possible that they found a safe place to stay.”
But where Kala was a calm and patient voice to soothe him, Tenak’s own inner voice was the exact opposite. Within two days, Tenak was searching every clan in the area, using an old photograph of the two of them he carried with him to ask if anyone had seen Anthe. The longer he searched the more stressed he got, especially knowing that the RDA was back, leaving Anthe in more danger because of it.
Now, Tenak was practically a year into his search, and there was still no sign of his younger sibling. Kala stayed behind with the Aranahe, just in case they popped up, but Tenak set his sights for the East. There were a number of clans in that direction, as well as the new RDA headquarters if his intel was right. If Anthe was there then Tenak would find them, no matter what it took.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The Metkayina Clan at Awa’atlu were kind to the Sully’s for the most part. The first few weeks in the reef village were tense, but with help from the Olo’eyktan and his family, mostly his daughter Tsireya, the family was brought quickly into the larger community. Neteyam’s siblings seemed to take to the ways of the water quickly, but the same could not be said for Neteyam himself. Where once he excelled in every aspect of his life, now he floundered. He struggled to master the breathing techniques Tsireya taught them, and grew frustrated by his slow pace in the water. It was not helped by Ao’nung, Tsireya’s older brother, and his taunting. Neteyam hadn’t wanted to leave home in the first place, but he needed to stay strong for the rest of his family. There was no room for Neteyam to mourn.
Now he sat on the sandy beach, watching his siblings joke with each other and their new friends. Kiri and Tuk were building a sandcastle with Tsireya, while Rotxo was play-fighting in the serf with Ao’nung. Lo’ak had run off in a huff earlier, upset that no one believed that his new Tulkun friend was not the killer they believed it to be. At least his younger brother was no longer fighting with Ao’nung. It was a good development, especially given the recent fight the Sully brothers had had with the Metkayina man and his friends. Neteyam licked the healing cut on his lip at the memory, wincing as it still stung. Neteyam was still pissed at Ao’nung himself, even if his brother had apparently forgiven him. After the fight, when Lo’ak had attempted to make peace, Ao’nung had almost gotten Lo’ak killed, abandoning the younger man outside the reef in Akula territory. At least, there was no more fighting or insults being thrown.
Neteyam thought now, as he did often, of Anthe, wondering if they were okay, if they had escaped the RDA or were still there with Spider. If they were even still alive. He thumbed softly at the hilt of Anthe’s knife, the only thing he had left of them besides the gifts he never got the chance to give them. Neteyam had finished the knife he made for them, and kept it wrapped up with his belongings, and the clothes Kiri had made for them, hiding it from view. No one had tried talking to him about Anthe since they left the Omaticaya except Kiri, who did her best to reassure him that they would be fine, wherever they were. Even his parents seemed to avoid the subject, as if they had never existed, as if they had never spent the better part of a year in the family's company.
He thought back to their last conversation, how Anthe could believe they weren’t worthy of safety or belonging within the Omatikaya. The thought that they couldn’t ever belong. At the time, he found it hard to understand. He couldn’t see how just having a different upbringing could make a person feel so separate from those around him. Unwelcome. Outsider. But, Neteyam understood it now. He felt it, here with the Metkayina, where none of his previous skills had value, and he was no longer the eldest son of the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya. Just another demon blooded outsider. Kiri and Lo’ak had it even worse too, he knew that, even back home they had struggled. Neteyam felt like he had no right to feel this pain now, while his siblings had felt it their entire lives. At least he had his family, all together, all safe, going through the same things with him. Anthe was just alone, not knowing if their family was even alive. No wonder nothing he said had helped. No wonder they had left him when he couldn’t even understand that much.
“{‘Teyam?}” Kiri’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, back to the beach.
“{Kiri, hey.}” Neteyam shook himself, pocketing the knife again.
“{Are you alright?}” Kiri asked, plopping herself down beside him, and leaning close.
“{I’m fine.}” He shrugged, not looking at his younger sister.
“{Come on, Neteyam, don’t be like that.}” Kiri frowned, nudging Neteyam in the side. “{You’re worried aren’t you?}” Neteyam just shrugged again, leaning into Kiri a bit.
“{I’m fine, Kiri, I promise.}”
“{But you’re not! I know you miss Anthe and your home sick, we all are.}”
“{Kiri.}” He sighed, “{You really do not need to worry about me, I will be fine, I’m just…}”
“{Sad. You’re sad, and heart broken, and I know you would rather wallow in it but I don’t accept that. I miss Spider more than anything, but we have to trust that they will be okay. They will come back.}” Kiri spoke, holding Neteyam’s face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. Of course he knew she was right, just as she usually was. Neteyam let out a heavy sigh, slumping into his sister’s hands and letting his face squash in her palms. Kiri smiled, pinching her older brother's cheeks with a soft chuckle.
“{Tsireya said she got her mother's permission to take us to the Spirit Tree here, you should come with us. Please, come with us.}”
“{Okay.}” Neteyam nodded finally, letting Kiri drag him back to his feet.
“{Is he coming?}” Tuk hollered, seeing her older siblings approach where she and Tsireya sat.
“{Should we try to find Lo’ak too?}”Tsireya looked to Kiri, worried expression on her soft features. The Metkayina girl had grown close with Neteyam’s younger brother, who in turn had a very obvious crush on her as well.
“{I’m not sure he really wants to be around us yet. We can bring him next time.}” Kiri sighed.
It didn't take long for the group to reach the Metkayina’s underwater Spirit Tree, but the sun was still setting quickly in the distance. Ao’nung had excused himself before the group had left, leaving Tsireya and Rotxo to guide Neteyam and his sisters. Even from atop the waves, the view of the glowing tree below them was breathtaking. Tuk was standing excitedly on the back of Kiri’s Ilu, eager to jump straight in, while Tsireya explained that she and Rotxo would act as the Sully’s dive partners to keep them safe while they connected to the tree.
One by one they each slipped from the backs of their Ilu and dove down into the water. Neteyam could see that Kiri especially seemed excited. She had prayed at the Brother Tree back in their home forest all the time, and was deeply spiritual compared to Neteyam and the rest of his siblings. This would be the first time in months that she could connect to Eywa again since they left. Rotxo brought Tuk to one coral-like branch of the tree while Tsireya led Neteyam and Kiri to their own, encouraging them to connect. He could see why his little brother could be falling for such a sweet girl. Carefully, he reached back for his kuru, watching the pink tendrils hidden beneath the end of his braid eagerly reach for the tree as he brought them to the branch and closed his eyes.
Neteyam was back in the forest, familiar and warm, in an area he knew quite well. He followed the small path to the pond he had brought Anthe to so long ago. It was just as he remembered, the afternoon light bleeding softly through the tree canopy above, glittering across the shifting pool like gems. It felt calm there, peaceful in a way Neteyam missed. But something still felt like it was missing, beyond just the fact that Neteyam knew he wasn’t actually there. It was calm, but it was also lonely, the lack of Anthe’s presence making itself known.
Homesick, heartbroken, hopeless, Neteyam felt all of it. At least here, he could actually let himself feel it, finally someplace private without fear of interruption. The last time he had tried to have a moment to himself, it had been cut off by the admission from Ao’nung that Lo’ak had been abandoned out in open water, and Neteyam had been scolded for not being there to stop it. Here that wouldn’t happen, he could just be alone and feel as sad as he needed to without being a burden to anyone. It was cathartic, right up until the flashing started, suddenly pulling Neteyam from the connection, back to reality. Neteyam shook his head, trying to orient himself as Tsireya rushed past him, towards where he saw Kiri convulsing, seizing under the water.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
“We found something.” Quaritch grinned at the group of Recoms standing around the conference room, and Anthe felt their heart drop to the pit of their stomach. There was a chorus of whooping and cheers from the soldiers around them, but Spider was stock still and pale as a ghost. Anthe did their best not to show their dread, forcing a grin and high five when Ja turned towards them to celebrate.
“We got a helicopter ping headed in the direction of this cluster of islands.” The Colonel pointed out on a holographic map, showing an area to the South West of their current location.
“Ardmore is sending us to the RDA coastal base, here.” He pointed to an area more immediately west of Bridgehead. “Where we will catch a ride to search the islands.”
“Colonel.” Anthe managed, doing their best to seem as neutral as possible. They had only just been released from their ‘probation’, their ankle tracker finally removed, and one step closer to getting out.
“What is it, private?”
“Are we sure it’s them? You said all that was left back at the original RDA base were scientists, could it just be a research team or something?”
“It’s possible.” Quaritch nodded. “But it's still a lead to Sully. If it's anything good, then maybe you’ll get some use outta that rifle of yours, too. Speaking of-” Quaritch motioned over to a grinning Lyle who excitedly pulled a familiar large shape from behind his back, handing it to Anthe.
“You get your piece back!” The recom grinned, clapping a hand on Anthe’s shoulder. Anthe was quick to check over the rifle, it was cleaner than they expected with a new strap, but undamaged and otherwise unchanged. The weapons' familiar weight in their hands brought with it a sense of safety Anthe hadn’t truly felt in a while, that made the smile that crossed their face feel that much more genuine. They held it close, nodding a quiet thanks to Lyle as he crossed back to his place at the Colonel’s side.
“Right.” Quaritch coughed, regaining the room's attention, an air of smugness about him that suggested he was pleased with Anthe’s reaction. “We leave in one hour, so get your shit together and be ready to go. Anthe, make sure the kid doesn’t break anything while we load up. Dismissed.”
As soon as Quaritch said the word, Anthe was half dragging Spider out of the conference room, back to their dorm. The rifle was comfortably back on their shoulder right where it belonged. Spider was silent, his hands balled into tight fists as Anthe pulled him into their room, locking the door behind them. They turned back to the man slowly, standing stock still in the middle of the room.
“{Spider-}” Anthe started, moving towards their friend.
“{Do you think it’s them?}” Spider suddenly spun towards them, eyes panicked.
“{I don’t know.}”
“{It can’t be them right? There shouldn’t be any reason for a helicopter to go find them unless… unless something went wrong.}” He was spiraling, eyes darting around as he was definitely imagining the worst possible reasons for the Sully’s to suddenly need a helicopter.
“{Spider, look at me.}” Anthe knelt, tossing the rifle on the bed.
“{Something is wrong, something has to be wrong! What if someone is hurt? Lo’ak or Kiri- What if-}”
“{Spider!}” Anthe grabbed both sides of his face, forcing him to look at them. “{We won’t know until we can get out of here, okay? I need you to breathe, deep breathes.}” They placed a palm on his chest, which Spider quickly grabbed onto, trying to anchor himself. Anthe guided him in taking deep, slow breathes, until the man's heart was no longer beating so erratically under their hand.
“{Thinking up worst case scenarios is not going to help anyone right now.}” Anthe spoke again, once Spider had somewhat calmed, and they were both sat on the cold floor of the dorm.
“{Those idiots just gave me back my gun, and they took off the ankle tracker. All we need now is to get rid of your tracker, and find an opportunity to get out of here. If the Sully’s are on one of those islands, then the sooner we get out and warn them, the better. Okay?}”
“{Okay.}” Spider said nodding, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“{We won’t let anyone get hurt. I promise.}”
An hour later Anthe and Spider were on one of Bridgeheads roofs with the rest of the Recoms, securing their few belongings onto Anthe’s ikran before they flew out to the RDA coastal base. Spider remained quiet, largely giving everyone but Anthe the cold shoulder. Quaritch kept looking over at them, something like concern playing on his hard features.
“Okay, Ted. Ready to go?” Anthe said quietly as they mounted their Ikran, the aforementioned Ted, who shuddered lightly as Anthe bonded to her. They leaned over, reaching a hand out to Spider and hoisting him up into their lap when he took it.
“I still can’t believe you named her Ted.” Spider scoffed, setting himself more comfortably against their front, while Anthe made final adjustments before take off.
“Ted is a fine name, and it's better than ‘Cupcake’,” Anthe smiled, gesturing to where Quaritch was mounting up, making Spider snicker. “Or whatever Lyle named his. What was it again? Manly Barber?”
“Malibu Barbie!” Lyle shouted from the back of his mount, sounding offended.
“Why?” Spider asked, not bothering to hide his incredulousness.
“She’s pink!” Lyle gestured to the creature's bright pink and yellow markings. Anthe and Spider looked at eachother, sharing confused shrugs.
“I don’t get it.” Anthe shook their head back at Lyle, who groaned in frustration.
“Barbie! The fashion icon! How do you not know this?!”
“I think it’s an earth thing.” Spider frowned up at Anthe, who was feeling increasingly confused.
“Wainfleet! Quit screwing around! We ready to go?” Quaritch shouted over the bickering. There was a small chorus of ‘yessir’s from the recoms, all mounted and ready on their Ikran. Quaritch signaled take off, launching into the air and taking the lead as Anthe and the other soldiers followed.
#froglet writes fics#avatar way of water#atwow#avatar the way of water#james cameron avatar#neteyam sully#neteyam x oc#avatar frontiers of pandora#neteyam x reader#until it doesn't hurt#navi oc
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