#the shit with the fog warriors ALWAYS gets me like. fuck man
Photo
“He ordered me to kill them. So I did. I killed them all.”
#fenris#dragon age#dragon age 2#da2#murphys funny little art pieces#the shit with the fog warriors ALWAYS gets me like. fuck man#i have a lot of little fenris pieces i want to do lately but so little time#but im glad i sat down and did this one it was fun#tarot card style drawings are such a blast#you know sometimes i think about fenris and the fog warriors and then i think about his battle dialogue#theres something about the fact that he shouts 'to me my friends' that kinda gets me#'we must fight together' also sticks out but the friends one is forever in my brain#reminded of that one post about him refusing to turn mages in and i think his experiences of betraying people before add an extra layer#to like all of that. he's been hunted and whatnot but he's also had people who took care of him and fought for HIS freedom#and he killed them once before. he wont do it again.#ok done fenrisposting goodnight
651 notes
·
View notes
Text
I get it, live actions aren’t for everybody and that’s totally fine. Not everyone’s gonna like it. But to shit on the stupidest things, or draw the dumbest conclusions??? Blocked. Y’all look dense as fuck. Views will be mixed as they always are, quit clogging up the tags with your negativity and find some chill 😂 The originals are still there to watch or read and enjoy…so go do that…it’s literally on the same app 👏🏻 I’m trying to be understanding I am, but some of y’all are so damn hung up you’re letting it completely destroy something you’d otherwise enjoy
Anyways!! Here’s some of the stuff I loved from the atla live action!
•cinematography, soundtrack, costumes - all on point
•getting to see the airbenders flourishing!!! Also the dude who played Gyatso?! Didn’t think I could love him more!! Even though it was painful as FUCKKKK getting to see the first invasion of the fire benders was an epic masterpiece
•speaking of, the first scene?? With the earthbender soldiers in the fire nation?? Iconic
•Omashu: unpop opinion I’m sure (bc y’all hate change but simultaneously hate when it’s carbon copy????????🤦🏼♀️) I loved how they incorporated like 3 or 4 episodes into one, and they flowed really well together. Jet is FOINEEE. Mechanist was perfect & his son is a freaking badass, amazing casting! Even though it was change, the secret tunnel scenes were still really freaking cool and the badgermoles were SICK AS FUCK. Also I love that Bumi was still cooky but not just randomly cooky? Like mans was run down from being king basically the entire war…which FAIR. And it made sense that he was peeved with Aang BECAUSE they were such good friends. Like the other avatars being mad at him? Yea that’s whatever. But for Bumi it was kinda personal. Also CABBAGE MAN WE MISSED YOU 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 Oh! And the way they mentioned other episodes like they were lore when Zuko was trying to find Aang? That was an amazing way to tie back to the OG series
•I love how they incorporated the blue spirit, Koh, the fog of lost souls & parts of the ep where sokka and Katara got sick & Aang had to get them frogs - just reimagined it. Oh also Hei Bai! Yea, I loved that whole episode. Koh & Hei Bai were SCARY as fuck, it was awesome!!
•HAHN MY BELOVED…I ADORE YOU! Favorite character that they added/changed. Katara getting the other women involved in the battle?! Tui & La? The oasis?! 😭😭 stunning!!!! I also LOVEDDDDD Aangs avatar spirit that he turned into, literally perfect! And I loved the change that he gave himself over to the spirits wrath..fucking SICK. Also right before aang turned into the spirit/whatever that’s called, I was praying they’d do the line and thEY DIDDDD!!!
•Fire lord Ozai?? 😳😚 nothing needed to be said - perfection
•Kyoshi?! The Kyoshi warriors?! SUKI?! - speechless
•I like that they’re making more of a point to show how smart Sokka is! Mechanist calling him an engineer…I hope they play more into that! Ik they did a bit in the show with the subs (cartoon), but still
•”~hE rAn~” seriously my favorite line, I was DYINGGGG!!! The scenes with Zuko and Iroh, Zuko before the war meeting, the leaves from the vine being in the background at the funeral….ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME?! Zuko’s crew being the crew he SAVED?! And when they find out they all do the fire nation bows to their prINCE?! 😭😭😭😭
I’m being fair y’all - things I don’t love/hope they change:
•this one I’m 50/50 on - I don’t love that they tried to give Kuruk a reason for disappearing. They tried to pull shit from Korra to make him look meaningful & not useless as an avatar and it didn’t hit for me
•some of the wigs: obviously we won’t see Yue again, but I wanted her hair to be white. I didn’t love the wig but it wouldn’t have been as bad for me if it wasn’t so grey. Also do NOT love Azula, Tylee or Mai’s hair. Ik they look just like the show but whether that’s wigs or their actual hair (I’m clueless) it needs some serious improvement. Azula’s looks great down, I just don’t like how big the side pieces are that frame her face when it’s up.
•Katara, my love, I am PRAYING part of your development is also going to be her becoming more outspoken and badass, bc this season we saw the tiniest of glimpses of it, not a fan (unless it’s a part of her development…she did grow up in a tiny ass tribe so I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt)
• IK they’re going with a much more serious Aang, but pleaseeeee give us some actual moments of him being a kid. We saw that like twice 😭
•Dante is the PERFECT ZUKO, I will hear NO slander. However, I need him to be more of a dick. I’m hoping we’ll get that when he gets super desolate when they’re on the run & then we have Zuko alone & he has his inner battle. I need snarky dickhead Zuko, so you can truly see the big differences between what he’s fighting (himself vs. who his dad wants him to be)
Have fun kids!
In case I haven’t made it clear, idgaf if you disagree. I go so hard for these live actions because it’s fun! It’s just supposed to be fun and different and new. If you get so serious about it you’re ALWAYS going to be disappointed, there’s no way around it bc nothing is ever going to be as good as the original book, the original show, the original tale. OG atla is ALWAYS gonna be the winner, nothing will compare! So sit back ~relax~ and find some joy in the little things
#also if I see anymore of you IDIOTS say Aang was flying in episode one? I’m gonna choke#atla#natla#Netflix atla#avatar#avatar the last airbender#netflix avatar#netflix avatar the last airbender#zuko#aang#katara#sokka#toph#uncle Iroh#northern water tribe#southern water tribe#kyoshi#kuruk#Roku#yangchen#monk gyatso#appa#kataang#zutara#azula#ty lee#Mai#fire lord ozai#momo#atla spoilers
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
Purpled is interrogated about his linkage to the alien things that have been randomly appearing everywhere. Unfortunately for him, he genuinely has no clue. Aka, just an excuse for lee Purpled. Literally.
Ayo, mates! My requests are still open, if anyone wants anything written!
The whole alien theme was getting out of hand, in Philza’s opinion. The bird man couldn’t find a single place that hadn’t been affected by either the egg or the suspicious alien structures that kept popping up everywhere. They were pretty, but they were a nuisance otherwise. Tommy had been recently complaining of them appearing in front of his house, blocking his way out directly. Tubbo and Ranboo had complaints of the same caliber, having to blow the structure up with a few well-placed pieces of dynamite in order for them to get to their respective places of work on time. Techno had also spoken of random failed ship specimens slamming into him before, although the veracity of that claim is still hotly debated at the dinner table. Nonetheless, it was a problem. A very large, relatively irritating problem. And he knew one of the most likely causes was walking around the area at this very moment.
He scanned the area, sharp eyes undulled by the years scouring the grasslands. A small speck of purple made him grin. There he was.. Purpled. The alien hybrid was known to be a wanderer of his species, getting stranded on the SMP after his UFO failed to take flight again. Then, almost mysteriously, it disappeared. (As in, it blew up, and everyone tried to ignore the shrapnel that landed surreptitiously on their houses.) He had taken to wandering around, fiddling with the extra structures lying about with a look of indifference and a slight flicker of confusion, which added onto the SBI’s belief that he knew what they were, at the very least. Thankfully for the eagle hybrid, the alien usually didn’t pay attention to his surroundings when not in the field of battle. The key word there was usually, though. If he didn’t time his ‘attack’ correctly, he might get a wingtip chopped off by his quick-access dagger. Kneeling low to the ground, he slowly moved closer to the younger of the two. The other didn’t seem to notice, lounging about underneath the shade of a specifically tall tree. A bee landed on his face as he did, but he seemed to not notice, too absorbed in his thoughts. Perfect. The grass gently whacked his face as he slunk closer. Closer….a little more….
Purpled shrieked at the sudden sensation of being tackled to the floor, hand automatically reaching for his knife holster. His eyes shot open to stare straight into bolt blue. “What the fuck?!?” “Sorry mate, I thought you’d run away from me if I walked up to you normally.” He spluttered, mind quickly processing the absurdity of that statement. “So you tackled me instead?” Philza grinned from above him. “I mean, sounds about right.” Purpled narrowed his eyes at him. Wariness was a part of his genes, and he sure as hell didn’t think now would be a good time to let down his guard. “We’ve been wondering what the alien sculptures were. Y’know, the ones that keep miraculously appearing in the mornings. Half-startled the shit out of some of my pals.”
“Uh huh.” The alien deadpanned at the other, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “And this is the reasoning behind tackling me because…?” “I thought you’d know. It does look like you’re familiar with the markings and stuff on the sides of it. Is this true?”: The avian tightened his grip ever so slightly, in the hopes that he would take the hint and answer the question in a straightforward manner. “...Well, I don’t believe I can help you with that. I am not of that species of alien.”
It was Philza’s turn to deadpan at him. He cocked a corn-silk colored eyebrow at him, all playfulness forgotten in the staredown that he and Purpled were currently engaging in. “No, really. What’s going on, mate?”
“First of all, I’m not your mate, and second of all, I still don’t know. What, do you think I can magically glean things from markings?” Philza scoffed slightly. “Doesn’t your species do that? You know, your clothing and your fancy underskin lights?”
“Well,” Purpled answered, matter of fact tone slowly driving the hardcore warrior up the wall, “Our underskin lights and clothes don’t always match up, either. Do humans not have accents or...what was it?...dialects. Yes, that’s the word.”
Philza retorted, “I thought you were a child of your species. How the hell did you even get here, anyways? Do you think your family’s out looking for you? Is that why you don’t know anything outside of your species?” His words struck home.
A small spark of anger lit up in the backs of the alien hybrid’s eyes, pushing at Philza with a strength the other didn’t know he possessed. When he spoke again, his voice was brittle like ice frosting over wood. “My family didn’t want a mutant like me.” The avian felt a pang of empathy for him, loosening his hold a little. His eyes softened, a look of pity slowly growing on his face. The alien didn’t seem to like that very much. In a blur of purple and moss green cloak, Phil found himself smothered by his own garments, his prey’s footsteps leaving him behind. He shoved it off himself, trotting in the same direction to catch up. “Hey! Get back here!” The sound of his footsteps on the pavement echoed slightly, catching his attention. With a powerful beat of his wings, he boosted himself onto the street, sandals making a screeching noise as they made contact with the cobble. A small shape in his line of sight made him ready himself for another boost, wing muscles rippling and wind blowing his family braid around.
Purpled thought he was safe. He had done everything to plan. It was all within his calculations. That was, until the sound of wing beats caught his attention. ‘Can he fly still? I thought his wing was damaged? Oh shit!’ He pushed himself a little more, panting from exertion. He was tempted to use his own to get away, but he shoved the idea back down to the pit of hell it came from. ‘Oh, fuck no. Not dealing with that trauma chapter today.’ He swiveled his antennae around, straining to hear wingbeats… or any noise, for that matter. Confused, he slowed down to a jog, scanning the area for his pursuer. “Where..?” Suddenly, the world careened sideways. He found himself in a very familiar situation. “Uhhh...hi?” “Hello, mate. And sorry, mate.” The hardcore warrior unbottled a potion quickly, the grey potion swishing around as he did so. WIth a flick of his wrist, he poured it over the boy below him. The cold tingle of the potion made him yelp and buck under him. “No! What are you doing?!?”
As the potion’s effects began to make itself known, Purpled’s mind began to fog up, drowsiness slowly suffusing through his body. “If you won’t tell me straight up, I’ll have to enlist some help in finding out.” The alien wanted to retort, but the words stuck in his throat. Against his volition, his eyes began to flutter shut, his focus shifting from trying to push him off to just keeping himself awake. Philza decided to be a little daring. Before he lost his nerve, he pushed his hands through the boy’s platinum-blonde hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.
If he had any last fight in him, it dissipated. With a small whine, the boy’s eyes shut fully and did not open again, his chest rising and falling with his slow breathing. “There we go. And now, I just need to recruit my boys to help me get to the bottom of this mystery. No more of those stupid scupltures, not if I can help it.”
“Seriously, are we just going to wait until he wakes up?”
“How else would we get him to wake up? Prime, Techno. Who do you think we are, brutes?”
Through the thinnest slit of sight he could, Purpled glanced at the menagerie of people nervously, hoping fervently that his antennae haven’t given away his consciousness. With the slightest movements of his limbs,he tested the bonds tying him down to the table. He was slightly grateful for the position, seeing that it had kept him from being in the direct line of sight of the duo next to him. The partially spread-eagle position still kept him in a state of unease, instincts screaming into his ears to struggle, to escape. The two people arguing sounded familiar. ‘Wilbur and Techno, maybe?’ It sounded similar, although he was pretty sure he was used to hearing the softer tones of the former’s voice from Ghostbur.
The only sight he had was the inside of the kitchen, the whole place brimming with chaos and entropy and… life. The fruit and food in the pantry was messy, certainly the product of the other people in the house. A twinge of longing snagged in his throat, stopping his smooth breathing pattern for a split second. He prayed that none of them noticed. It didn’t seem as if they did, continuing their banter and arguing over how they were to wake him. A heavy body got up from a chair, the furniture making an ugly shriek as it rubbed over the wood. Equally heavy footsteps moved into the kitchen, appearing in the boy’s view. The visage of the piglin made him sigh inwardly.
‘Yep, I think that’s Techno. And if Philza, Techno, and Wilbur are around together, that means the whole Sleepy Bois Inc. is here.’ An afterthought gave him pause. ‘And Tommy. I really hope Tommy’s not here right now. That would be embarrassing.’ Another pair of footsteps made him force his antennae from moving towards the sound mentally. ‘Shit, this is going to be a challenge. Curse my stupid biology! Why couldn’t I have had a better pair of sensory equipment?’
Philza came into his view, sending a slight chill down his spine. Was it fear? Was it adrenaline? He didn’t know. Whatever it was, it made his heart beat louder and louder, blocking out any ambient sound in the room. “Is he awake yet, lads?” A small frustrated huff escaped the only other person in his view. “Not that I know of. He’s out cold. How much of the sleep potion did you give him?” The avian had the audacity to scratch his head and look away sheepishly. “..the whole pot.”
At the startle and the turn of the head that the winged warrior got, it was evident that it wasn’t supposed to be used like that. “Heh? A whole potion?!?” Techno morphed into a significantly sleeker body, arms stretching out to grab at both of his shoulders. He shook the other slightly, eyes still wide with astonishment. “Why did you use a full potion on a child? Phil?!?” Wilbur piped up from behind him. “Shh, Techno. If you wake him up now, I don’t think we can discuss the plan of interrogation.” ‘Interrogation? Are they going to hurt me?!?’ A slight burst of panic flooded through his veins, forcing him to focus on tamping down his reactions in favor of listening to the others around him without clueing them into his awakeness. ‘Uh huh. The plan. As if we didn’t already discuss this twice before.” Techno made gestures he couldn’t quite understand. “We make sure we don’t hurt him, we get the info, so on and so forth.” Even his gestures were sarcastic. Purpled liked him already.
“Let’s just get on with it. Just wake him up already.” A smile played on Phil’s face. “Mate, I don’t think we need to wake him up…” He trailed off, tone smug and knowing. His antennae, the fucking traitors, curled up a little subconsciously as the man made side eye contact with him. The avian all but crowed. “I knew it. How long have you been awake, Purp?” The jig was up. He opened his eyes completely, wincing a little at the sudden burst of light coming from the skylight above him.
A gasp escaped Wilbur- at least, he thinks it was from Wilbur. It’s kind of hard to see who is who when you’re focused on one person and one person alone. “Don’t call me that.” His voice sounded unused, as if he had forgotten to drink water before he went to bed. Phil didn’t say anything in reply to that, simply grinning wider. “So, the three of us decided that we wanted to get info from you in a way that didn’t hurt you. It’s not something I’d like to have on my consciousness, the harming of an innocent person on the sidelines of something. Besides, it’s not that important.” Purpled’s muscles relaxed a little, reminding him of how tense he was at the moment. “But. I still need info, and it seems that ribbing you again and again won’t be effective for your caliber of stubbornness.” He had to bite back a retort to that, trying not to ignite the ire of the most merciful person in the room.
“I decided on something that I can guarantee has never been used on you as a convincing technique.” The avian moved closer to him, purple eyes following his every movement. WIth a slow, deliberate movement that he must have learn from ages of working with his hand-eye coordination, he placed his hands on his stomach, resting his arms there. Purpled tilted his head, puzzled. “How is this going to make me tell you anyth-”
He choked on his words at the sudden sensation of Phil’s talons scraping on his stomach. He froze in place, willing himself to not flinch or show any sign of weakness in front of the older. Wilbur and Techno stayed back, watching Philza’s movements with a focus that was almost unnerving to the teen. “What does this feel like? You stopped talking, are you okay?”
The avian definitely knew what he was doing, testing out different spots on his stomach with the accuracy of a well-learned tickler. Purpled trembled lightly in his bonds, still trying his best to not show his reactions. It was a challenge, especially so because of the bondage tugging at his limbs with every slight shift in his positioning. The feeling of being helpless was equally as maddening as the careful touch on his tummy. Even through the fabric, he knew that he wouldn’t last long with the way he was tickling him.
Just when the boy thought that he had gotten used to the sensations, the warrior shifted to his sides, nails barely scratching through his hoodies. “Snrk!” ‘Shit.’ “Oh? That was something! Purpled, you can make this stop if you tell us about those structures landing everywhere. Come on, little guy!” His antennae twitched slightly at his words. He shook his head, eyes determined and sharp. “N-no.” A sarcastic voice sounded out behind Philza. “Ooh, baby’s first words.” Purple bristled at the comment. “Why, you-”
With his mouth open, it was impossible to hide the squeak that escaped him as the light scratching turned into kneading. “H-hey!” Techno snorted. “Hook, line, and sinker. He is ticklish, Phil. Just need to find the ‘on’ switch.” Purpled really, really didn’t want him to find any of his sweet spots. He squirmed away from the winged man, trying to evade his clutches now that he was aware of the effectiveness of his interrogation methods.
“Stohop!”
“Oh, no you don’t. No escaping, Purp!”
He squeezed both of the alien hybrid’s sides, kneading a little more into the softer spots. The younger couldn’t hold his laughter back anymore. “Nohoho! Thihihis ihihihis uhuhunfahahair!” His legs and arms strained against the bonds, body bucking and thrashing in a vain attempt to escape the sensation arcing through his body.
“What’s unfair? All you need to do is to give us the info!” Phil’s eyes trailed up to his antennae. “Aww, your little feelers are getting all trembly! That’s so cute!” At the mention of his appendages, he turned his head to the side bashfully, a small bit of flush coming to color his face. “Shuhuhut uhuhuhup!”
“Is that flustering for you?” The eagle cooed a little, before an idea came to mind. “Hey, just a question for you...are your feelers sensitive?” Purpled’s eyes widened. “Noho!” The response was way too quick for his answer to be true. A cheshire grin slowly grew on his face, coinciding with the sinking/fluttering feeling pooling in his stomach. “Oho, is it your sweet spot?” His hands trailed teasingly from his sides up to his antennae, fingers barely grazing the bases of them. Just the lightest touch on them made him squirm and giggle. “Nohohonohoho! Nohohot thehere, p-plehease!”
“Oh? And why not, then?” Wilbur chipped in, chair making a squeaking noise as he stood up. “I think I’ll give you a helping hand, Phil.” A small, quiet “about time” escaped the avian’s mouth. Purpled wanted to speak on that, but the sensation of the light touch moving at such a sensitive spot made him bite his lip in a final resistance to the tingling sensation lingering there. He silenced himself, trying to stifle his giggles as well as he could. “What if I do this, Purp?”
The fingers scratched at either side of one of his antennae’s bases. He squealed, hiccupy laughter escaping him against his will. “EEE! Ihihihi! Nohohoho! Plehehease!” The alien hybrid shook his head, laughter squeaking a little when the movement accidentally scraped Phil’s nails against his skin. The fingers followed his movements, not giving him a moment to rest. Thankfully for him, the man ‘interrogating’ him seemed to understand how ticklish his feelers were, not doing much to speed up the tickling and absolutely destroy him. He was grateful for the moment of relatively gentle tickling, struggling slowly getting less and less and protests beginning to die more and more often before they escaped his mouth.
Subconsciously, his antennae curled closer to the avian’s fingers, as if they were trying to mutually stroke him back. The warrior glanced at Techno, then back at the feelers. ‘Is that some sort of sign that he likes it or something? Damn it, I should have tried to read up more about extraterrestrial body language.’ A sudden buck stopped him from wallowing in his thoughts. “AHA?!?”
“I knew your hips are a good spot!” He turned to look at his son, eyes snapping back to full focus. A beat of laughter from the younger below them passed. “Wilbur. Why did it take so long for you to get from the chair to here?” The musician shrugged. “Took my time, I guess.” Wilbur continued to rub slow circles into the squirming boy’s hipbones, a small smile playing on his face at the reactions he was getting from him. “Stohohop! Ihihihi-Ihihi cahahan’t!”
Purpled’s flustered facial expression and wide smile showed just how effective WIlbur and Phil’s tickling techniques were. The latter chuckled. “Guess the big strong bedwars player can’t handle a little tickling~” He spidered his fingers over his scalp teasingly, just barely grazing the feelers he was scratching earlier. The appendages twitched at the sensation, a small squeal escaping the owner through his already high-pitched laughter. “NohohoHO tehehehe-AH!” His words were swallowed up by his own giggles.
Wilbur grinned triumphantly, kneading his hand into one hip while gently fluttering his fingers over the other. Purpled’s sweatpants blocked some of the sensations, but it wasn’t enough to keep the sparking feeling from coursing throughout his body like an adrenaline shot. He threw back his head, this time avoiding contact with the bird man’s hand. “You ready to tell us, mate?” The duo slowed down a little, giving him a chance to speak. Purpled gasped for air, a smile still plastered on his face. He panted, eyes glazed over a little from the exertion. “You...you guys suhuhuhuck…” His hands balled into fists, resolve (and lee mood) taking over for him. “Ihihihi’m nohohot gohohonna.” Wilbur scowled at him a little.
“Seriously? You have some stamina for a gangly kiddo.” “I’m not gangly!” “Says you. You’re so short.” He growled at the musician a little. Suddenly, a hand laced itself into his hair, making him flinch in surprise. “W-wha-?” “Shhh, Purp. Let me pet you for a bit. How does this feel?”
The fingers slowly raked down his scalp, careful not to nick the then skin. The feeling was heavenly. There was no denying it. Eyes fluttering shut, he pushed his head into his hand. His feelers twitched happily after each round of stroking, making Wilbur stifle a coo at the adorable sight. Techno put down his book, sighing. “Do you really need me to help-” A finger at his mouth stopped him from speaking.
“Shh, let Phil work his magic. Maybe he’ll be willing to give us the info then.” Wilbur whispered, his glasses slipping down on his nose and giving him a disheveled look. A single hoof-hand pushed it up for him. Soft silence surrounded the group for a bit, all for the low, rumbling purr that was emanating from Phil. Wait, from Phil? The two of them snapped to look at their father, a flash of surprise overtaking them both for a moment. Purpled was….purring? Almost reluctantly, the hardcore warrior untangled his hand from his hair, a whine and a stuttering purr following him a little with his head. “Hmm…”
“More headpats after you tell us.”
“Mmmmnooo….”
Purpled opened his eyes slowly, almost boneless in his relaxed state. Philza gently spidered his fingers over the alien hybrid’s neck, smiling slightly at the sleepy giggles it produced. “Aww, come on. You sure you don’t want to tell us, little guy?” Through his giggles, the alien shook his head no, a louder bout of laughter escaping him when the warrior’s hands trailed down to his collarbones.
“Ehehehehe!”
“Kitchy kitchy coo~”
He squealed quietly at the tease, his face blossoming with color again. Wilbur decided to join in again. He carefully traced shapes on the boy’s thighs, enjoying the hybrid’s laughter. “Man, your laugh is so cute! So, Purplee, you going to tell us yet? Or are you having too much fun?” Purpled squirmed in his bonds, sleepily nodding along to what he was saying. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You are?” A mumble underneath his breath. “Phil , what did he say?” The winged man chuckled. “He just said he didn’t know, he just wanted to fuck with us.” Techno snort-huffed. “Of course he did. We are so getting him back for that.” “Why not now?” Blood red eyes shifted to the floor, then back to the bound alien hybrid.
“Because. Look at him. Do you really want to snap him out of this?” Coffee-colored eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. “Is the great Technoblade being soft for a lil guy?” Techno cleared his throat, shaking his head and making his ears flop. “No. Wilbur, no.” The musician walked closer to him, looking up to stare directly into his eyes. “Is the great Blood God getting whipped over a bedwars player?” A low growl cut through the air. “Wilbur, if you don’t stop now-”
Another round of purring stopped him mid-sentence. “That’s it, Purp. You did great.” Phil glanced at the duo who had done virtually nothing to help him, a small glare hinted in the back of his eyes. ‘You will pay for this.’ Wilbur took a step back. Techno did the same, tail whipping at the floor in anticipation. The hardcore player treaded his hands deep into his silky hair, coaxing him back into a resting state. “Did you like this? I hope you did.” Sleepy eyes opened just barely, eyes twinkling with adoration. “....yea...will y’ do ‘t again?”
A breath that he didn’t know he was holding escaped with a happy trill and lilt. “Of course, mate. Sleep well.” For the second time that day, Philza gently coaxed the boy into slumber. A sleepy smile plastered on his face, Purpled’s chest rose and fell rhythmically once more, calm and deep like the lapping of a purple-platinum ocean. “Now, as for the fact that you two didn’t help me at all with that…” He stepped closer to his sons, wings spreading outwards like a rippling wave of pitch. Nervous giggles escaped Wilbur and Techno.
“Nonono! Phil, pleasE-”
Purpled didn’t wake until the morning rays shone down on his face, the scent of pancakes and the smell of home wafting into his nose. And, no, he didn’t inquire at all about why Techno and Wilbur refused to look the eldest in the house in the eyes.
It felt good to be with them.
He hoped it would always last.
#my writing#downywrites#downy writes#tickle fic#sfw tickle#my fic#mcyt tickle#dsmp tickle#lee!purpled#ler!wilbur#ler!philza
127 notes
·
View notes
Note
Is there Any Possible Way we could see that memory if Remus and Virgil absolutely Wrecking Shit Janus was talking about?
Remus, Janus, and Virgil are walking along through the marsh, a bit less comfortably than you usually see them. Remus leads the charge, and Janus -- with the cane, but without the limp -- follows closely behind, though its obvious Remus has slowed his pace a bit to accommodate for him. Virgil follows from several feet behind, so silently Janus keeps turning back every once in a while just to make sure he’s still there. He always is, and his expression doesn’t change, but... Janus can’t help but feel like the then-nameless Dark Elf is laughing at him in some way.
After a minute or two more of walking, Virgil stops, and draws his bow. He holds it low to the ground and whistles, and Remus stops as well, looking around with a grin on his face. He calls out, and several armored hobgoblins step out from where they were hiding up ahead, weapons drawn. Remus laughs at them for a moment, then starts speaking in a language you don’t recognize. They seem to understand him, though, and respond in the same speech, if more fluently.
Janus turns again, to try and get some insight from Virgil, but Virgil has disappeared. Remus laughs manically, yells something, then swings his arm back into Janus. Janus flies back, stumbling as he hits a tree a little ways behind him. He looks up to yell at Remus for the swing, his ribs aching, but the complaint dies on his tongue.
Remus is hunched over, having pulled off his jacket to reveal a shirt with the back almost entirely ripped apart. Shadows spawn around his feet, filling the area like fog as two sets of bird wing-like bones burst out from under his skin, bloodying his ruined shirt, and the scars littered around his body begin to glow like a star is trying to burst out from under his skin. As his wings click into place with a sinister series of clicks and pops, he opens his eyes, now jet back and seeping with whisps of shadow. His pupils glow bright green within the dark, and he flicks his wrists, summoning two mourning stars in a puff of smoke. He lets his wings flare out, rears back, and screams, causing both Janus and the enemy army to freeze in fear. Then, as if materializing there, an arrow sinks into the eye of one of the hobgoblins, and the battle begins.
Terrified and confused, Janus simply watches as Remus tears towards the goblin war band, foaming at the mouth and his pupils glowing like a red sun. He uses his mourning stars like clubs, swinging them around without rhyme or finesse, just trying to cause as much carnage as he can. The hobgoblins’ armor crumbles like tin foil under his blows, and though they land plenty of strikes on the unarmored man, his grin and maddening laughter never falter -- like he can’t even feel it. Like he’s having fun.
Throughout the battle, Virgil’s still not visible -- and trust me, Janus is looking for him. Anything to focus on that isn’t the hulking demon in front of him would be fantastic -- but arrows keep spawning around the battlefield, flying much to fast to read for an origin point. Janus spends so much time staring into the trees that he doesn’t notice Remus being overrun until he roars like a furious animal, shaking one of the goblins from his back as another tries to twist his arm. Virgil appears now, sword drawn, twirling out from behind a tree next to Remus and striking down the one pinning his arm.
Remus takes care of the rest, never even noticing as Virgil disappears again. Just as Janus loses Virgil in the trees, he hears a snarl behind him, and just barely dodges out of the way of an incoming attack. He runs away, keeping his distance from Remus and trying to put distance between himself and the lone soldier that decided to pick him off instead of focusing on the barbarian. Which, to be honest, Janus can’t really blame them for; it’s absolute carnage over there.
Struggling to release the clasp on his cane that reveals a hidden sword -- one he’s never actually had to use before -- he trips onto the forest floor, and can do nothing but raise the staff defensively as the soldier rears up high with his sword. Before he can slice down, though, Janus hears a deafening crack, and the solider screams with rage and turns back around. Janus peeks around him, and sees Virgil, smiling for the first time Janus has ever seen, and twirling a whip around his person that Janus wasn’t even aware he had. Virgil clicks his tongue, taunting the goblin, who roars in retaliation and charges forward with his longsword.
He deflects the cracks of Virgil’s whip with the sword, but cant close the distance enough to land a blow himself. Virgil’s just smiling at him, dancing around the forest floor like he doesn’t have a care in the world, just playing with his enemy. Janus momentarily analogizes the dark elf to a cat in his mind, and muses to himself about how often the comparison comes up, once again simply spectating with his back to a tree. Virgil continues to let the soldier heard him around the trees, occasionally landing a snap on his face or his arm, in the slots between his armor. The goblin’s bleeding now, but much too angry to give up.
Determined to run through the man that’s been making a fool of him for the past half minute and seeing a small opening in Virgil’s guard, he charges forward with a messy thrust. Virgil frowns again, seeing the other warrior fall for his trap so quickly. He feints to the side, cracks his arm to wrap the whip around the goblin’s neck, and grabs the other end to pull his skull down towards his knee, nearly knocking him out with a sickening crunch. Virgil lets him go, and waits for him to steady himself before cracking at his knee and kicking his side.
The hobgoblin goes spinning, and lands in a kneel halfway between Janus and Virgil, his head hung low and eyes unfocused. Virgil saunters over and rests his foot between the goblin’s shoulder blades, pushing him further down towards his knees, and Janus realizes with a start that Virgil has been... making a show of this for him. Virgil looks up at Janus through his fringe, obviously waiting for him to do something.
Though it makes him sick to his stomach, he nods to Virgil, hoping that’s what he wants. It seems to suffice, and before the goblin can regain his senses, Virgil’s planted a dagger in his neck. Janus looks away, not quite sure why this is so disturbing but disturbed nonetheless, and he hears Remus roaring again in the distance. He thunders towards them, and Virgil readies his whip again, waiting for him. His ethereal form is gone, but he looks no less threatening now, still foaming like a beast and absolutely drenched in blood.
For a moment, Janus is terrified they are going to kill each other. And Remus does strike at Virgil, but Virgil dodges him just as easily as the hobgoblin, and seems to be cracking his weapon just to make noise. He’s distracting Remus from Janus’s presence, leading him around like a bull in an arena. After a few seconds of this feinting, Remus’s eyes seem to clear. He misses another blow on Virgil, and when his hand lands on a nearby tree instead, he pauses there to lean on it and take a few deep breaths. Virgil keeps away for a few breaths, then walks back over to him and lays a thin hand against his cheek. Remus laughs and turns his head to lick Virgil’s hand, and Virgil glares at him, annoyed but not entirely surprised. Janus is so winded he can’t even comment on that.
Remus looks down at the mess Virgil made, and he laughs and ruffles Virgil’s hair with an uncharacteristic gentleness. Virgil still yells in Undercommon and squirms away as Remus trots over to Janus, extending a blood-covered hand to help him up.
“That means he likes you~!” Remus quips, looking absolutely fucking pleased, as if this hasn’t been the second worst day of Janus’s entire life.
...Still, he takes the bubbly barbarian’s hand.
#oh this one's bad yall#violence#blood#flashback#janus's visions#lets roll#cruelty#idk how else to tag what the fuck virgil just did tbh#cursing#torture#torture maybe works#ssenkradisacoolnameithink#please tell me if i need to tag anything else!
183 notes
·
View notes
Text
5e Viego, the Ruined King build (League of Legends)
(Artwork by Pan Chengwei. Made for Riot Games.)
What? Did you expect me not to make this? It’s the goddamn Ruined King! He’s finally out after all these years! I mean sure he’s a goddamn twink but still; he’s finally out! Also Samira build is coming out 35 years from now.
And even though I put a Warlock TikTok meme in my last video, here’s a whole bunch of them because... yeah no shit he’s a Hexblade... Of the Ruined King.
undefined
youtube
GOALS
Ruin to all! - MIST'S EDGE: Basic attacks deal a percentage of the target's current health bonus physical damage on-hit.
Serve me in death - If you ever wanted to play as the enemy for a bit Viego will let you take a ghost or two; as a treat.
The mist is my great unending sadness - Foggy days are typical for an edgy boy, and King Ruin is so edgy he wants to cover the entire world with fog! Yeah that “mist is sadness” quote is real; I got it from the Wiki.
RACE
Viego is a human... but he has a great degree of variance. We’ll be going for yet another Variant Human because we’re not allowed any monster champions anymore. As a Variant Human you get a +1 in two different stats of your choice: increase your Charisma and Strength by 1 for the strength to be beautiful for your queen. You also get proficiency in a skill of your choice: Perception will let you see through the mist and search far-and-wide for your queen. And you get a language of your choice: Abyssal seems reasonable to speak to the mist.
Of course the main appeal of Variant Human is the feat at level 1, and to swing the Blade of the Ruined King Great Weapon Master will let you cut through a percentage of the enemy’s health! When you make a melee attack with a heavy weapon (such as a greatsword), you can choose to take a -5 penalty to your hit chance. If you do hit you’ll do an extra 10 damage with your strike! And as an added bonus when you score a critical hit (with a melee weapon) or kill a creature, you can make one melee weapon attack as a bonus action!
ABILITY SCORES
15; CHARISMA - League of shirtless anime boys amIrite? Gotta look good for Isolde.
14; DEXTERITY - Repeat after me: “something something Medium Armor.”
13; STRENGTH - This is a requirement for another one of the classes we’ll be taking. Yup this isn’t just straight 20 levels in Hexblade!
12; CONSTITUTION - A ruined king with a blackened heart is still allowed to have some health.
10; WISDOM - Destroying the entire planet just to simp for your wife isn’t the wisest move.
8; INTELLIGENCE - Nor is it the smartest.
BACKGROUND
You were the king of a long-forgotten nation, so unfortunately noble wouldn’t work. But you still have servants! The Knight background grants proficiency in the History that you lived through as well as Persuasion to get Isolde back. You also get proficiency with a Gaming Set and Language of your choice, which I’d say pick your fancy.
But the main reason we’re taking Knight (and not Noble) is for Retainers! You get three knights sworn to your kingdom (Kalista, Hecarim, and the third one) who will do mundane tasks for you. While Hecarim may be up for a slaughter unfortunately your retainers can’t do anything in combat and won’t follow you into dangerous locations. And of course if you treat your subjects poorly they will leave you. But it can always be useful to have more spirits in the mist to search for her!
(Artwork by @thejenneralchen on Twitter)
THE BUILD
LEVEL 1 - PALADIN 1
Hah! Did you think we’d be starting with Warlock? Put simply we need things from Paladin more, notably the proficiencies as well as starting equipment. Dude imagine having to spend 3200 gold to buy the sword literally named after you? But for now you might just want to grab a Longsword to start. Regardless Paladins get proficiency in two skills from the Paladin list: Athletics are required in the jungle, and Intimidation will let everyone meet know that you will stop at nothing for her! You fucking simp...
You also get Divine Sense to sense the beasts of the mist, or your queen. As an action you can know the location of any celestial, fiend, or undead within 60 feet of you that is not behind total cover. You know the creature type, but not its identity. Within the same radius, you also detect the presence of any place or object that has been consecrated or desecrated. (Have a feeling you’ll find a lot of desecrated areas.) You can use this feature a number of times equal to your Charisma modifier plus 1, and regain all uses at the end of a Long Rest.
And you can restore a bit of health thanks to Lay on Hands. You have a pool of healing equal to 5 times your Paladin level that comes back at the end of a Long Rest. You can heal a creature for any number of hitpoints from that pool as an action when you touch them, or cure a disease / poison affecting them with 5 hitpoints. Man that would’ve been useful a couple of thousand years ago, huhn?
LEVEL 2 - WARLOCK 1
Time to pick up the Sword of the Ruler of the Mist. Hm... There has to be a better way of saying that. Regardless Warlocks get to choose their subclass at level 1 and to get a comedically large sword that saps peoples’ lifeforce we’ll be opting for the one, the only Hexblade patron! As a Hex Warrior you can wield martial weapons as well as medium armor (which you already could cause Paladin), but can also choose to swing a sword with your Charisma instead of your Strength or Dexterity. Which is great because you’re not exactly the buff sort. Unfortunately you can’t use a two-handed greatsword just yet, which is why I said you’d do good to grab a longsword instead.
But if you are locked in combat Hexblade’s Curse will make sure that you can dispose of them quickly. As a bonus action you can mark a target for 1 minute. During that time you do bonus damage equal to your proficiency bonus to the cursed target, crit on a 19 or a 20, and regain hit points equal to your warlock level + your Charisma modifier when you kill them. The curse ends early if the target dies, you die, or you are incapacitated.
And of course as a Warlock you get Pact Magic. You learn two cantrips and two leveled spells: Eldritch Blast will let you manipulate the mists for a ranged attack, and Prestidigitation will help you keep clean and kingly despite all the black mist flowing out of that gaping stab wound in your chest. As for leveled spells Armor of Agathys will let you put on some Thornmail to keep your health up and hit your foes back, and I mean Shield is on the Hexblade expanded spell list anyways so we may as well use it.
LEVEL 3 - WARLOCK 2
Second level Warlocks get Eldritch Invocations as the mist manipulates your body and soul. For now take Devil’s Sight to see through your Harrowed Path with your dumb human eyes, and we’ll be leaving the other invocation slot open for a level.
You also get another spell but all the other first level spells don’t really interest me. Yeah we’re not taking Hex you’re going to have to live with it!
LEVEL 4 - WARLOCK 3
Third level Warlocks get their Pact Boon for a particular tool of the Warlock trade, and to wield a weapon of spectral steel grab Pact of the Blade! The long and short of it is you can make yourself any melee weapon, and Hex Warrior affects any weapon you summon with this feature! This means that you can actually wield a two-handed Greatsword, but feel free to choose other options. Especially now that you can take the Improved Pact Weapon invocation to turn that Cutlass of the Twink King into a +1 weapon, and also summon yourself a gun (shortbow / longbow / light crossbow / heavy crossbow) if you so desire. But I mean, why would you when you have Eldritch Blast?
You can also add some second level spells to your list like Darkness to walk a Harrowed Path through the mist, though remember that even if you can see through the mist your allies probably can’t. And Misty Step, because something something Flash.
LEVEL 5 - WARLOCK 4
4th level means the first of many Ability Score Improvements. Charisma is used for everything that you do so... maybe increase that?
You also get another spell and another cantrip! For your cantrip Mage Hand is helpful to manipulate the mist to grab things from high places. As for leveled spells Blur is on the Hexblade list... but why would you take that instead of Mirror Image, which doesn’t require Concentration.
(Artwork by @WetHamster1 on Twitter)
LEVEL 6 - WARLOCK 5
5th level Warlocks get more Eldritch Invocations. To knock a foe down with Spectral Maw take Eldritch Smite, letting you channel a spell slot into a particularly deadly slash of your Viego’s Edge.
If you want an extra attack early you can also replace Improved Pact Weapon with Thirsting Blade, which is now available. But we will be getting Extra Attack from other sources later.
You can also now learn third level spells like Vampiric Touch for a bit of lifesteal. As a treat.
LEVEL 7 - WARLOCK 6
6th level Hexblades can put their passive to work, and have spirits serve your Sovereign's Domination. Accursed Specter lets you use the soul of a humanoid you killed and make it serve you, using the stats of a specter with temporary hit points equal to half your Warlock level and a bonus to hit equal to your Charisma modifier. The specter remains in your service until the end of your next long rest, which is good because you can use the ability once per Long Rest. The specter rolls initiative separately from you, and obeys your commands.
And hey: you’ve already got ghosts fighting for you, so why not summon your depression to fight as well? Summon Shadowspawn from Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything (requires a 300 gold gemstone containing tears and) summons a spirit of Fury, Despair, or Fear to fight alongside you. There’s a lot of specifics to this spell that I don’t want to go into (its actual description does a far better job than I ever could) but the important thing to note is that it’ll give you another loyal follower.
LEVEL 8 - PALADIN 2
Time for a few levels in that other class we have. Second level Paladins can choose their Fighting Style and of course to swing a Shank of the Former Blessed Isles Great Weapon Fighting (style) will let you reroll low die to more reliably cut through the mists.
Paladins also get Spellcasting at level 2, and unlike with Warlock casting you actually get some spell slots! You can prepare a number of spells equal to your Charisma modifier plus half your Paladin level (rounded down.) Divine Favor will let you do a bit more damage with your titular blade, and if you want more of a burst of damage then either Thunderous Smite or Wrathful Smite will do some more damage along with additional effects. To protect yourself from the mists and others who’d want to keep you from Isolde take Protection from Evil and Good. And to borrow a death realm from the other world-ending lord of Runeterra take Compelled Duel.
Of course you could ignore all that spellcasting stuff for even more Damage of the Ruined Blade! Divine Smite will let you do 2d8 damage with a first level spell slot, plus an additional 1d8 per spell slot above first, up to a maximum of 5d8 (with a 4th level slot.) Additionally if you hit an undead or fiend you’ll do an extra d8, meaning that with a 4th level spell slot you can do 6d8 damage!
The real neat thing is that this works with Smite spells as well as the Eldritch Smite invocation, allowing you to effectively use two spell slots at once to smite if you so desire.
LEVEL 9 - PALADIN 3
3rd level Paladins get to choose their Divine Oath and nothing will stop your Oath of Conquest to save your queen. You get to add the Command spell to your spell list, as well as Armor of Agathys... Uh woups. Uh we’ll address that when we go back to Warlock.
You get two Channel Divinity options: to keep others from stopping you from reaching your queen Conquering Presence will let you force a Wisdom save on units of your choice within 30 feet to frighten them! Alternatively Guided Strike is like Great Weapon Master but in reverse, giving you +10 to hit. This means that if you use Great Weapon Master as well you’d have a +5 to hit and do +10 damage! But remember that you only have one Channel Divinity per short rest.
You also get Divine Health, because simps don’t take sick days.
LEVEL 10 - PALADIN 4
4th level Paladins get another Ability Score Improvement, and we still use Charisma for basically everything so with this you can cap it off completely!
You can also prepare two more spells but... there isn’t much I want from first level? I mean you can take Cure Wounds for a bit of healing... as treat.
LEVEL 11 - PALADIN 5
5th level Paladins get an Extra Attack. If you took Thirsting Blade from Warlock you might want to replace that too.
You can also prepare second level Paladin spells now! As a Conquest Paladin you get Hold Person to stun with Spectral Maw, and Spiritual Weapon for more soldiers from the mist. You can also prepare Aid to strengthen your army and Branding Smite to see your foes through the mist.
(Artwork by @vmatbox on Twitter)
LEVEL 12 - WARLOCK 7
Back to Warlock to replace a lot of things. But firstly you get another Eldritch Invocation: take Trickster's Escape for an emergency QSS.
You also get 4th level spells like Shadow of Moil to become a creature of the mist, and also to get an upgrade from the Darkness spell (which you might want to replace.) Speaking of replacing spells: you got Armor of Agathys from Paladin so replace it with Hallucinatory Terrain to cover the land with mist.
LEVEL 13 - WARLOCK 8
8th level Warlocks get another Ability Score Improvement or a Feat. We’ll be taking the Eldritch Adept feat for more Eldritch Invocations. Which Eldritch Invocation? Why Undying Servitude of course, for more servants of the mist!
D&D Beyond tip: Replace Devil’s Sight and then give yourself 120 feet of Darkvision on the sheet.
You can also get another 4th level spell like Dimension Door, to travel far and wide in a flash to reach your queen.
LEVEL 14 - WARLOCK 9
Hey more Eldritch Invocations! Whispers of the Grave will let you speak to the fragments of Isolde’s soul.
LEVEL 15 - WARLOCK 10
And hey: 5th level spells finally! To strike a foe with Heartbreaker take
Negative Energy Flood, sundering their health and making them rise to serve you if you end up killing them.
10th level Hexblades get Armor of Hexes. If the target affected by your Hexblade’s Curse hits you with an attack roll, you can use your reaction to roll a d6. On a 4 or higher, the attack instead misses you, regardless of its roll. Naturally this ability makes you particularly good in a 1v1 with whoever you target for Ruination.
You don’t get another spell but you do get a cantrip. Take Toll the Dead to deal with enemies who have high armor, for the mist comes for all.
(Artwork by @stingrae36 on Twitter)
LEVEL 16 - WARLOCK 11
11th level Warlocks get their 6th level Mystic Arcanum, which looks like a spell slot and acts like a spell slot (IE it comes back after a Long Rest, not a Short one) but can’t be used to upcast your other spells. You can only use it to cast one spell, and for an AoE Heartbreaker take good ol’ Circle of Death.
Also more spells known from your regular Warlock slots: Banishing Smite is on the Hexblade list, and can be used to send any demons back to whence they came.
LEVEL 17 - WARLOCK 12
12th level Warlocks get an Ability Score Improvement or a Feat. I have no idea what else to grab so take the Tough feat for a much needed 24 hitpoint increase to a primarily melee-based character.
You also get another Eldritch Invocation so it’s finally time to get the true Blade of the Ruined King damage with Lifedrinker! This will make any foe struck by your Pact Weapon take an additional 5 necrotic damage. This means that you should be doing 2d6 + 11 damage with every swing of a (+1) Greatsword!
LEVEL 18 - WARLOCK 13
More Mystic Arcanum, this time at 7th level! Power Word Pain will let you subjugate the weak.
And more regular spells: Danse Macabre lets you get more servants forever loyal at your side!
LEVEL 19 - WARLOCK 14
14th level Hexblades are Master of Hexes. Put simply: when a creature affected by Hexblade’s Curse dies, you can apply the curse to a different creature you can see within 30 feet of you. (Though you won’t be healed for the last foe’s death.) This will let you bounce your curse around and reap all its benefits constantly, becoming a master of your own blade.
LEVEL 20 - WARLOCK 15
Our last level is the 15th level of Warlock for a handful of benefits. Firstly we can get an 8th level Mystic Arcanum: Feeblemind is the ultimate tool to truly sunder the weak and discard the chaff.
Secondly you can get your level 15 Eldritch Invocations, and to never mistake Isolde’s face Witch Sight will let you see through any illusion that may be hiding her!
You may also want to replace Improved Pact Weapon as by this point you’ve likely found something better than a regular old +1 greatsword. Visions of Distant Realms and Shroud of Shadows are both very good options.
And we can finally get our last spell: as you gather enough information on the new world Scrying will help you expand your search further beyond!
FINAL BUILD
PROS
Surrender to me! - Two smites plus Great Weapon Master on an already deadly blade results in absolutely devastating spikes of damage with your sword. God forbid you crit!
The black mist flows from me like a tide - You also have plenty of tricks to give you an upper hand in longer combats. Hexblade’s Curse of course, but also Armor of Agathys, Shadow of Moil, and Spiritual Weapon.
Fight, puppet; fight for your king! - You can summon all manner of ghosts, ghouls, skeletons, zombies, and everything in between to serve in your search for your queen.
CONS
The world denied my happiness - Low ability scores mean that your skills won’t be amazing. The ones you’re proficient in are alright but you aren’t much help outside of being deadly and being royal.
Answer for your crimes, death; answer me! - We didn’t take the 6th level of Paladin which means we didn’t get Aura of Protection. As a result your saving throws are rather low, and while I tried to avoid grabbing too many Concentration spells yo do still have quite a few, which is not at all helped by your meager +1 to CON.
She remains in this world; I can feel it - All the melee tools in the world don’t mean much when you lack any proper way to get close. You have Eldritch blast sure but beyond Dimension Door (which granted is very strong) enemies can easily keep their distance from the mad king with a big blade. Even if you want to use Dimension Door you have a very limited amount of spell slots.
But the world can only hide from the Ruination for so long. The black mist comes, and with it you come to search for your queen. Nothing can stop you; nothing will stop you until you have her again. The world shall be torn to shreds and shattered beyond repair, as long as you can have your queen... Or like, just find a Wish spell or something? Shame you’re a couple thousand years old because True Resurrection doesn’t even work anymore.
(Artwork by Bo “chenbowow” Chen. Made for Riot Games.)
#dnd#dnd build#dnd guide#League of Legends#League of Legends Viego#League of Legends Ruined King#Ruined King#LoL Ruined King#Blade of the Ruined King#dnd warlock
16 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello my beautiful friend! (Highkey am missing you even tho it’s only been a few hours 😩) i have come with a request if that’s okay! It’s kind of a joint request from me and @shiftysdogtags lol... could you maybe do a Guernere fwb to proper lovers fic 👉👈
Sunrises & Trying Again. | Bill Guarnere
(click here to read on wattpad!)
REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN.
pairing: bill guarnere x gender neutral reader
wc: 1.8k
tw: mentions and hints of sex. this isn’t NSFW but my confused self kinda feels like it is so if you are a minor and uncomfortable with things like this PLEASE DO NOT READ thank you i’ll cry otherwise.
A/N: thank you @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant and @shiftysdogtags for requesting this! i’ve never written anything for bill before so this was super exciting.
also, pretend he and toye never got injured in bastogne please i couldn’t figure out WHERE they would do.. “It” and the thought of them swimming in a lake and just being happy made me so happy. 🥺 also! so sorry for writing so much about zell am see. i’ve just been feeling bad lately so them vibing by a beautiful lake? i wish that were me.
tagging: @teenmagazines @alienoresimagines @order-of-river-phoenix @julianneday1701 @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @wexhappyxfew @rarmiitage @mavysnavy @punkgeekchic @vintagelavenderskies @georgeluzwarmhugs @ray--person @wecomrades @jussipogideonlaufeyson @happyveday @snafus-peckuh @urlocalfrogmammy @kathikon @were-supposed-to-be-surrounded @warrior-healer
feel free to message me if you’d like to be added to my taglist!
***
Your forehead was slick with sweat, your breathing heavy. “I can’t believe we did it again,” you said to yourself, your voice incredibly sore. Of course, it happened again. It wouldn’t stop happening ever since you first bumped into Bill in the middle of the night in front of the washrooms back in Georgia.
You’d find yourself in his bed, promising it would be the last time, and try your best to sneak back into your own, careful not to wake anyone. When there was more privacy, he wouldn’t put a hand over your mouth as you did it, the sounds of your quiet voices filling the room. Even at Bastogne, you found yourself staggering out of his foxhole, despite the absurdity of it all, adjusting your pants and flattening your top, as though anyone would notice.
You hated every part of yourself for it, but everyone had urges. You and Bill’s were just a lot stronger than everyone else’s.
“Of course we did,” the man beside you muttered as though he could read your mind, “You can’t resist me.” He threw you a wink, that nearly made you want to pounce on him once more and go for another round, and the thought of it made you sick at the same time. Mostly because he was right; You couldn’t resist him one bit.
Instead, you rolled your eyes. “More like you can’t resist me,” you swiped at the sweat on your forehead, sitting up on his bed. Being in Austria meant more privacy. That meant more nights on his bed instead of yours.
Bill chuckled, and you bit down on your bottom lip, the temptation nearly unbearable. It was even worse was that he was leaning on his elbows, propping his head up with his arm. His hair was slicked back, his chest glistening with sweat. “That’s true,” he whispered, eyeing you as you pulled up your hair and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible, “You aren’t sleeping with me tonight?”
You turned away, knowing full well you’d give in to his puppy dog eyes, and the cycle would begin all over again. “No,” you pursed your lips as you continued getting dressed, his eyes burning holes into your skin, “I don’t want people thinking we’re sleeping together.” The words came out wrong, and you felt Bill turn away. “I didn’t mean-”
“Don’t worry about it,” he raised a hand dismissively, standing up from his bed and opening the door for you, “You better get going then.”
Shocked, you quickly picked up your stuff, shuffling out the door. “Goodnight,” you tried to say, but Bill’s door was already closed.
———
It had been 3 days since that whole debacle, and you weren’t sure if you were supposed to be relieved or upset that Bill hadn’t shown up in front of your door ever since. You fiddled with your fingers as you kicked your feet around in the lake. The rest of the men were behind you, starting up campfires and just messing about.
“Why so glum?” you heard a husky voice behind you say. Toye rested his hand on your head, messing up your hair. He took a seat beside you, occasionally glancing at the men, but their laughter and their voices were drowned out by the thumping in your head. You had wished it was Bill who came up to you.
Maybe that was why you were seated at the edge of the boardwalk all alone. You were upset after all.
You shrugged. “It’s nothing,” you smiled at him, bumping his shoulder gently, “Just thinking. Thank you for asking, though.”
The smile on his face faded, and Toye furrowed his brows. Taking a sip from his canteen, he handed it to you with a wink, but you rejected it and instead stared back down at your feet submerged in the water. “You must be thinking about something so terrible that you’d be so upset, despite being in the best place in the world since home,” he mumbled, cracking his knuckles together, “But whatever it is, you can tell me.”
“Its Bill,” the words spilled out before you could do anything, but Toye seemed unfazed, still staring ahead, “Why aren’t you surprised?”
He looked down at you, an amused smile on his face. “You know we can all hear the two of you going at it like rabbits right?”
A blush creeped onto your cheeks, and you put your hands over your face, rubbing vigorously. “Oh god,” you groaned into your hands, but Toye laughed, throwing his arm over your shoulders, “I’ve done a terrible thing.”
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t think anyone cares, but we do tease him a lot for it,” Toye started, patting you gently, “What’d you do?”
“I kind of told him I didn’t want anyone to think we were sleeping together,” you frowned. The fact that they all knew either way was humiliating, and Bill had known they were aware of your late night rendezvouses.
Toye flinched, running a hand through his hair and leaning back. “Wow,” he chuckled, “You did fuck up.”
“You’re supposed to make me feel better!”
“I was never here to make you feel better,” he laughed, raising his hands defensively, “I was just wondering what got you so sad.” Toye smiled, and that made you smile as well. “However, I can offer you a piece of advice.”
You leaned in closer, nodding. “Its definitely more than just sex to you if you feel this bad about it,” he winked, before standing up, tousling your hair again, and heading back to the rest of the men.
You watched him walk away, before your eyes trailed off towards Bill, who was laughing with Frank and Malarkey about something you couldn’t hear. He looked so happy, but the second his eyes met yours, his smile fell. Your heart pinched.
Toye was right, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It was more than that.
———
“Y/N,” someone shook your shoulders, and you sat upright on your bed, bumping foreheads with whoever was trying to wake you up, “Goddamn.”
You cursed as well, rubbing your forehead. “What the hell, Bill?” you groaned, lifting your pillow and hitting him with it, “What time is it?”
He raised his arm, glancing at the watch around his wrist. “4AM,” he muttered, before hitting you back with the pillow.
“What are you doing here?” you glared, scratching your head. You were still very much asleep. Looking around, you realised it was still dark outside, and yet Bill stood in front of you fully dressed. “I’m not having sex with you at 4 in the morning.”
Hurt flashed across his face, and you instantly regretted saying that, but instead he chuckled lightheartedly. “It's not that, asshole,” he grinned, grabbing your hand and pulling you into an upright position, “Though you had no trouble doing that in the past.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
You rolled your eyes, standing in front of him in your pajamas, crossing your arms. The two of you were tangled up with each other so often in the past, and yet you felt more exposed now than ever before. “You didn’t answer me,” you stated blankly, refusing to lose to him, “What are you doing here?”
“Well,” he started, his eyes avoiding yours, “I was wondering if you wanted to go see the sunrise? Major Winters goes swimming every morning and told me how peaceful it was, and I thought maybe you’d like to go with me.”
You mentally cursed. Bill was so hard to resist.
“I’d love that,” you said, despite your brain yelling at you not to. There was no reason why two friends, who have seen each other naked more than once, couldn’t go and see the sunrise together, right?
That’s what you kept repeating to yourself as you changed. You met him at the door, followed him towards the boardwalk, and set yourself down on the cool wood. Fog rolled over the lake, the air cold in your lungs. “Major Winters swims in this weather?” you breathed, and Bill wrapped his coat over you, “I know it's summer and all but wow.” You tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach.
He shrugged, glancing at you for a moment, and once more, you felt exposed. “I guess nothin’s colder than Bastogne.”
The sun slowly rose, casting a pink glow over the lake. Bill whistled. “Lucky to be alive, Y/N,” he mumbled, but you almost couldn’t hear him, so entranced by the view in front of you. You nodded, mouth agape.
When the sun had completely risen, you found yourself resting your head upon his shoulder, and your face turned beet red. “Oh, shit,” you cursed, standing up quickly, “I’m sorry.” You needed to get out of there.
“For what?” Bill exclaimed, the peace that surrounded the two of you left your bones, and you hugged his coat tighter around you. His coat. You wanted to cry.
Refusing to turn and look at him, you stopped in your tracks, head hunched down. “Look at me,” he said kindly, even though you knew he was fighting the urge to raise his voice, “Please.”
You turned slowly, staring at the ground in front of you. “What are you sorry for?” he asked again, his eyebrows scrunched together in worry.
“Why did you ask me here, Bill?” you asked in return, your eyes pleading to his to stop with the games, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend we’re just friends.”
He smiled sadly, taking a few, slow steps towards you, the wooden boards creaking underneath him. “Neither can I,” Bill whispered, “That’s why. I thought maybe, maybe, if we did something other than sex, you’d see me the way I see you after. When we’re covered in sweat, in the dark, talking about life, and our dreams like we didn’t just do what we did.”
You paused, your hands falling slack at your side. Bill was in front of you now, so close you could smell his aftershave, and it wasn’t lust that took over you. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, a kiss that was nothing like the ones you shared when he pushed you onto your back. A kiss that meant so much; Like quiet words shared in a foxhole, minutes before you climbed out. Like dreams and promises and hopes for the future.
“You’re not mad at me?” you breathed against his lips, his breath smelling like peppermint.
Bill shook his head, tilting your head to give you another kiss, “I’m mad at myself for not doing this sooner. Let’s try again, shall we?”
#band of brothers#hbo war#hbowar#band of brothers imagines#band of brothers fanfics#bill guarnere#william guarnere#bill guarnere x reader#guarnere x reader#giana:parsuna#hellitwasyoufirstsergeant
54 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello father >:] can i request some headcanons for a shy gender neutral s/o's first kiss with ash, ace, and hanzo? thank you for your service i will give you a kiss for your hard work
A/N: Pack it up boys, the himbos have arrived (plus one archer who REALLY needs a hug). This Is actually my first time writing for these three, so I think I went a little overboard making this.
Actually, now that I think about it, most of the Hcs down below kinda lean towards a “getting together +first kiss” than an actual established relationship. If you aren’t happy with this batch, be sure to let me know so I can redo these!!
(Read more placed due to lengthiness)
Additional note: I mostly wrote the Hanzo portion with the idea that you met before the short Dragons takes place. Hence why Genji is mentioned as dead or killed.
Ash Williams First Kiss Hcs:
When Ash was first dumped into the Entity’s realm, he had little intentions of bonding with his fellow survivors. He had figured that this entire mess was just fate deciding to fuck him over again. After all, why else would he suddenly be ripped away from Kelly and Pablo?
During the first few trials, Ash kept to himself for the most part. He still pulled his weight in trials, but he tried not to get too close to anyone. In his eyes, it’s better to be a lone wolf again to save himself the emotional heartache.
Of course, that plan eventually went out the window when you showed up.
You had been a lot meeker compared to the others, and despite himself, Ash couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit protective over you. As luck may have it, the older man ends up developing something of a small crush on you.
It eventually reaches the point where Ash’s tough “lone wolf” front begins to crumble around you. He becomes a comforting presence for you after trials, often doing so in the form of cracking jokes and telling stories from his younger years to help take your mind off of your circumstances.
It’s during these times that Ash ends up slipping in flirtatious remarks mid-conversation. And while a part of him warns him not to get his hopes up, he couldn’t help but grin whenever you gave him a flustered laugh and that shy smile he grew to love.
When the two of you finally share your first kiss, Ash can’t help but feel a mix of pride and bashful. Out of all the people you could’ve picked, you chose him, some washed-up, old fuck up, for your first kiss?
Well, he isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Just as the two of you slowly pull away, Ash gently wraps an arm around your hip. He hasn’t felt this light in years. Cheeks flushed, the older man gently bumps his forehead against yours, cheeks stinging from how hard he was grinning.
“Gimme some sugar, baby.”
Ace Visconti First Kiss Hcs:
With his time in the fog, Ace managed to gain an amicable relationship with his fellow survivors. He and the older men around the campfire liked to play cards and chat. He's been friendly enough with the younger survivors, even earning the status of the "weird uncle" of the campfire.
And when you first showed up, Ace didn’t treat you too differently-- you were a bit more on the quiet and shy side, so he tried his best to keep you at ease if you were in trials together.
Then you started approaching him after the trials. It had started innocent enough-- casual conversation, plans for future trials, etc. But then Ace found himself fixating on smaller details about you-- how you quietly try to hold back a laugh at his god-awful jokes, the little secretive smiles you gave him whenever you watched him play poker, how quick you were to break eye contact with a bright flush….
Well shit. Ace doesn’t think he’s had a crush this bad since he was a schoolboy. And luckily for him, it seems that you felt the same-- unless he somehow misread the flustered glances you’d shoot his way when you think he wasn’t looking...
Ace ends up becoming a lot more...forward from then on. He flirts with you at any given chance. While a part of couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit bad teasing you like this, he can’t help but find your red face adorable.
When you finally share your first kiss, Ace was the one who took the initiative.
With a gentle yet firm grasp on your shoulder, the older man pulled you against his chest. Thin lips brush against your own, and the scruff of his facial hair lightly scratched against your cheeks. A nervous, elated giggle tumbled out of your throat, and you felt Ace grin against your lips.
“You know, you’re not that bad for a first timer. You feel like going another round?”
Hanzo Shimada First Kiss Hcs:
If you’re anxious about your lack of experience, don’t worry-- Hanzo’s cold and calm front hides a man plagued with demons. While Hanzo has had dates before, he’s never been as prolific with romance as he’s been with his training as the heir to the Shimada legacy.
After killing Genji and rejecting his birthright, Hanzo bore the weight of his grief and guilt in self-isolation-- wandering from nation to nation to hone his skills as a warrior. All the while killing any mercenaries after his head, courtesy of his former family.
In short-- romance was the farthest thing on Hanzo’s mind. There were moments where he had dwelled on the idea, but they were always very brief. He was a drifter with hardly a drop of honor to his name now. He had killed his brother before he had the chance to grow or fall in love. Why should he deserve what he had denied his younger brother?
And yet he had found himself envisioning a future with you.
Around you, Hanzo is given a brief respite from the ghosts of the past. You were a calming presence in his life, and he’s come to cherish the time you have together.
Though he isn’t the best at showing affection, the small touches and soft-eyed glances he gives you come from a place of love and need for connection; desperate to remind himself that you were real and that this all wasn’t a cruel dream.
Your first kiss is no different.
His hand tentatively reached out towards your cheek, his touch feather-light as Hanzo stared down at you with lidded eyes. You faintly make out the outline of his adam’s apple bob as he took in a shaky breath-- cheeks dusted with light pink. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he drew near. He hesitated for a moment, but a gentle tug on his shirt collar spurs him forward.
His lips met your own, and his shoulders tensed for a moment, eyes widening. Your hand gently moved to hold his cheek, and you felt him melt beneath your touch.
As he slowly pulls away, eyes visibly bright and cheeks flushed, Hanzo gives you an almost boy-ish smile.
“Thank you for staying by my side....”
#my writing#requests#x reader#reader insert#dead by daylight#dead by daylight hc#gender-neutral reader#ash williams x reader#ace visconti#ace visconti x reader#ash williams#Overwatch#overwatch reader insert#dead by daylight x reader#hanzo shimada#hanzo shimada x reader
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Royal Report– A Crown of Candy Ep 14 Encounter in the Ice Cream Temple
We All Scream
We return to the Ice Cream Temple after the absolute bombshell that the SPF engineered Jet’s death as a way to get the Candians to her lair and gear up for the fight that that revelation obviously triggered. We get a better idea of the battlefield with the amazing Rick Perry set--like even by his standards it’s amazing, fog is involved. The party is on a ledge on one side of the room and there are huge levitating Popsicles and ice cream cones between them and a massive tower of frozen desserts which has the chocolate egg stuck in it in a little alcove.
As the fight begins, the SPF quickly cycles through all her glamours before revealing her true form, a huge, blue/purple, many-faced, many-winged, angelic type being--but angel in the, “We’re saying ‘be not afraid’ not as a formality but because we know we look scary,” sense. And with a Nat 20 initiative she goes to cast something in a cone that would have hit everyone for 8d8 damage but Rina dispels it with a clutch 5th level Counterspell (rolling exactly the DC without even adding her mod), absolutely foiling Brennan. In celebration, she finally puts the crown on Amethar tossed to her a couple of eps back.
Cumulus does some crazy monk movement to jump all the way across to the alcove with the egg. Unfortunately, the SPF immediately uses a legendary action to hit him with with a Ray of Frost for 27 damage and then gets a lair action to skewer him with an icicle, fully dropping him to death saves. The one small mercy is that Cumulus falls towards the egg, not into the mist.
Liam takes some shots at the SPF, and learns that she has both a really high AC and some kind of Mirror Image spell going to take some of her hits. He also eats the Peppermint Heart Seed the SPF returned to them, hoping it will give him flight like it did to Preston (almost jumping off the ledge to test it) but Brennan rolls on the Wild Magic Table and it instead makes the entire party Invisible.
Ruby (at Brennan’s mischievous suggestion) jumps off the edge so she’ll be in range to use Mage Hand, ties it to the end of the rope to the closest floating Popsicles (the orange one), and hangs on. In the distance, she can hear her aunts cheering for her. The SPF blasts her with some cold damage, insisting she just wants to take her somewhere safe but Ruby is having none of that.
Amethar throws some javelins which just gets rid of some of the illusions. The SPF does some more damage to Ruby.
Theo, student of Lazuli, realizes that the SPF is like a dragon sitting atop all this magical treasure but she’s not the source of the magic per se and they should be able to get the floating Popsicles to move at their command. He tells everyone and then holds his turn to see if Rina does anything crazy. Rina Thundersteps herself and Theo to the Popsicle Ruby is hanging onto and uses Winterscoop like an oar to try and move it (DC 10 Wis check w/ advantage--Brennan’s one small mercy). She gets it and yells to her guys to jump onto the other Popsicle (the red one) but they aren’t able to move it. With the rest of his held turn, Theo cast Protection From Evil and Good on Rina.
The SPF tries to blast Rina’s group with another cone attack but Rina stops it cold (ha) with another Counterspell, viably breaking Brennan.
Cumulus fails a death save. Theo takes some cold damage which he lessens with Absorb Elements. Then the SPF casts a spell on Ruby, entering her mind and saying, “You came to me in the glade. Wherever you go, I go.” And she hears a scream from Jet as the SPF begins stitching her own shadow to Ruby. (Spooky, hate that!)
Liam jumps on the red Popsicle and attacks the SPF again, getting rid of the last of her protective illusion.
Ruby swings up to where Cumulus and the egg is. She the rope to Cumulus and pushes him off the edge (Zac’s Face: *Immediate Concern*) so they can pull him up and help him. She also does an Insight check on the egg and feels that the outside is cold but there’s a deep rumbling from within.
Amethar jumps onto the red Popsicle and is finally able to move it. He gets closer to the SPF to throw some javelins and gets a hit this time but, unfortunately, as the SPF is hit, an identical wound dealing half damage appears on Ruby. Ruby yells this info to everyone else.
Theo again delays his action to wait for Rina to act. Rina Healing Word’s Cumulus both because he’s down and to boost her movement by ten (she gets that free 10 feet of Fly when she casts a spell) and she uses that movement to get within range of the egg and cast Bonfire (a cantrip) on the egg (Ruby insisting she could have done it without help). Brennan, womped thrice, needs a 12 or higher on 2d8 to damage the egg. Rina gets a 13 on the dice without having to even do any Sorcery shenanigans.
The egg cracks, releasing hot steam, the smell of cinnamon and the most ADORABLE baby dragon that imprints on Rina immediately. Rina coos that she finally has a family.”
“That is mine,” the SPF says.
“Not anymore,” Rina replies.
Ruby’s Big Day
Jon Bon nails the SPF with a throwing ax, doing half damage to Ruby again.
The SPF does a ton of damage to the red Popsicle peeps and Swifty and Gooey look ROUGH.
Cumulus (after determining that the SPF connection with Ruby will fade soon) jumps and grapples the SPF, doing a successful Stunning Strike, but the SPF uses a legendary resistance to come out of stun and then attacks him, paralyzing him and leaving him to fall.
Ruby tries to figure out if she can do something and Rina says if she trusts her and holds her action, she can do something to help. But it’s not necessary because, on his turn, Liam hits the SPF with a crossbow bolt (Ruby takes no damage as the connection has faded) and then moves the Popsicle under where Cumulus is going to land. The SPF hits Liam for 25 points of damage, taking him down to 9.
Even though she doesn’t need it to save Cumulus anymore, Ruby still delays her turn to get movement help from Rina (reluctantly). Amethar catches Cumulus out of the air before he hits the Popsicle and then does almost 50 points of damage to the SPF with Payment Day now that he’s in melee range.
Theo moves the orange Popsicle closer to where the action is happening, Misty Steps to the floating ice cream cone between his Popsicle and the other one, then tries to boomerang his sword to hit the SPF, but it doesn’t hit.
Rina (slipping into a very Fig manner of speech for a second) asks Ruby, “You wanna go for a ride?” Ruby accepts and Rina (after telling Cinnamon--the newly christened dragon--to fly over to her when he has a chance) Thundersteps herself and Ruby over to the very crowded orange Popsicle with the SPF. She also casts Create Bonfire on the SPF which does double damage--24.
And Ruby decides to take her held turn.
She casts Green Flame Blade on Flickerish--Jet’s sword--and says, “For Jet, bitch.”
Yak flies over to give her advantage (and make this as cinematic as possible).
Nat 20 bay-bee!
So she’s getting extra dice from Green Flame Blade, Rogue Sneak Attack, Flickerish’s Superiority Dice, and the Nat 20. Siobhan is rolling a DM number of dice here and you truly love to see it.
Brennan, sensing that, writes a number on a folded piece of paper and hands it to her. The amount of HP the SPF has left. Then he has her roll in the Box of Doom. She lets those colorful dice fly and counts them up--while Brennan looks on with increasing consternation in the background.
59.
She opens the piece of paper.
52!
Ruby lands graceful, balancing with her circus training, shadow of Jet being cast tall on the wall of the cavern.
“Can’t you come home with me?” asks the SPF.
“Why don’t you come home with me?”
Ruby thrusts the sword forward and the SPF (who Brennan says was literally just about to use her 9th level spell slot to cast Wish and restore all her HP) is no more.
Cold Shoulder
Fight over, the mist begins to clear. They see the floor of the cavern is just magical items on magical items and Swifty is stoked as hell. The magic of this place goes from painfully freezing cold and sickly sweet to the good kind of crisp cold and welcoming availability.
Ruby in her ear hears 4 voices:
“Proud of you, kid.”
“You make it look effortless. I am so proud.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t know where we’re going next. It was nice to be here, but we’re gonna go somewhere we don’t know, but we’re gonna go there together.”
“I was fourth in line and I didn’t know that we were all gonna say something. They didn’t tell me.”
“Look after her please,” Ruby says.
“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.”
Then she feels the embrace of her shadow and it returns to its place.
(“I love you so much. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”)
Rina says to Ruby that she could have finished off the SPF herself but she wanted to let her have the killing blow because it clearly meant a lot to her. She doesn’t know if that will mean anything to her now and she feels that maybe she’s wasting her time continually trying to reach out to her but maybe, someday, it will get through to her.
Rina’s guys escort her away and she can tell that Gooey has something on her mind. Rina gives her permission to speak freely and Gooey (with Swifty and Jon Bon chiming in) basically says, “Fuck the Candians. They treat you like shit. We’re your real family. You’re gonna be a dope ass queen.”
“You know, it’s funny. That’s the first time someone has called me queen and it hasn’t felt uncomfortable. It actually felt really good.”
Ruby takes another moment of silence for Jet. Theo says that it was always Jet’s dream to be fighting with and for the common people which is Rina’s whole thing. They should be rallying behind her. Ruby and Amethar never even wanted to rule--now he gets to be a warrior again like he wanted. Amethar shoots back with his perspective on the last 4 weeks: his daughter died, he died twice, he decided he was gonna finally man up and bam, it turns out he’s not even king anymore. So excuse him for not being the most gung ho person in the world.
Theo says that he trusts that Amethar is on board but Rina doesn’t know him. From her POV, this is just unprovoked shunning.
“You have two living daughters.”
Ruby goes to talk to Rina and, on a Nat 20 Insight, sees that all her guys are fully ready to remorselessly kill her if given the order. Still, she presses on, laying out her cards: Her entire worldview has imploded in a matter of weeks. Her twin sister just died. She’s going through so much and now this too? She can’t accept Rina as both her sister and her queen. She has to pick one.
“I understand that you lost everything,” Rina says, “but I was born with nothing.” She says that she was actually very excited to meet Ruby and have a sister and finally not be alone anymore, tears cracking through her cold facade for a moment. But then she gathers herself.
“If I must choose, then I choose to be your queen.”
“Very well.”
Rina and her crew exit the Temple and start down the mountain. Everyone except for Liam follows them. Liam goes to check on the hoard and rolls a 24 Investigation check. At the base of the tower he sees an old lair with ancient chocolate eggshells. He knows this is the dark space from his dreams and he knows this was once a dragon lair. At the center of the nest (which is still somehow warm), there’s a little ember that glows brighter as he approaches. It grows red and bright, filling his vision, a hand reaches out, grabs his throat and pulls and we end the ep!
Medal of Honor
Killing a god should be enough to get anyone this spot.
But killing a god with only a 7 point margin on a Nat 20 in order to avenger your sister’s death with her own sword a turn before said god was about to down a Full Restore?
Ooh, man. All hail Princess Ruby Rocks baby!
Things I’m Concerned About
OK, I mentioned last week I was worried about Rina doing a Cat's in the Cradle but I said I’d elaborate later and what I feared seems to be materializing so I’m going to talk about it now. Rina clearly had a certain vision of what she wanted this family reunion to look like and, for valid reasons, it’s not happening that way. They’re not really bonding. So what this ends up being is them relying on her in battle but brushing her off socially--at least that’s what it looks like from her POV. And like, she’s been around for like 2 days so it’s kind of unreasonable for her to expect them to be fully on board already but I see where she’s coming from. If I grew up as basically a Dickensian orphan and a princess told me a sob story (however valid) I wouldn’t be impressed. It would be a complicated situation even without a war happening in the background. On top of that, Rina is surrounded by Yes-Men which concerned me from the start when Gooey pulled her aside that first time. The last time we had the potential for serious party conflict in D20 (not counting Bloodkeep because I maintain that, despite the setup and Brennan’s best efforts, that was never going to happen) was the Kingston/Pete situation and that ended up fizzling out but idk man. That conversation Rina had about how it felt kinda nice to be called queen? That def set off some alarm bells in my head. I don’t know enough about GoT to know if this is a totally valid statement but when she got the dragon and then that convo happened I was like...hmm...how does Dany’s story end again?
Lol also, whatever the heck is going on with Liam and the dragon. Really this should be first but, I’m gonna be real, the Rina thing was so much that I fully forgot this was a thing that also happened.
I’m concerned about whatever happens next ep that was so bad they’ve been talking about it for ages. Feeling pretty trepid about that my guys.
We haven’t heard from Annabelle and Primsy in a while and that doesn’t necessarily mean anything bad but...hmm...
Five A Few More Things
Ah yes, the return of the, “Why can’t a butterscotch bird help me perform first aid?” argument. “Are you telling me a bird can’t save someone’s life?”
“Give me the child.” Brennan, I know I say this a lot but if anything happens to Cinnamon...a single thing...a solitary hitpoint...Brennan…
There's a bit where Cumulus rolls like a 9 and Ally goes, “Can he get advantage from the egg?” And Siobhan makes a face like, “Fully what?” but then a second later is like, “That’s a great question,” totally straight-faced and it’s so funny.
I wonder if Rina’s peeps feel the way they do about the whole party? Because Theo is honestly (in Murph’s words) also one of her goons practically and Cumulus pledged the orders’ services to her. You’d think they’d get consideration.
When Cinnamon gives Rina a Help action she goes, “I’ve never gotten Help action before,” and I understand what she meant but also, lol, she gets Help actions like every turn from her guys.
“Don’t come after my distant cousin!”
Very happy that if combat is happening in our story eps we’re getting some story in our combat eps. Getting a significant chunk of immediate aftermath is very cool and something I often wished for in the other main seasons.
FYI: Celestial is Liam’s Greater Favored Enemy.
Brennan really does love to undercut the tenseness of the situations of his dark world by reminding us all that it’s also deeply stupid and made of candy and I think that’s great.
One More Thing
Two big fandom art things are happening right now that I want to shout out:
(1) Until the 24th, D20 is accepting CoC fanart for their finale montage. The email is [email protected] and the details are on their Twitter.
(2) A fan run event is also happening--as big bang (which is a fanfic-visual art team-up thing that I’m learning about for the first time but seems really cool). Info for that is here.
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
trish walker — ( @theyeardecembered )
“ movies don’t create psychos, movies make psychos more creative. ”
she says it outright mocking. fuck you , man , she’s lost the ability to care. trish walker has died so many times before she was even stuck in this shithole with this faction of freaks living an endless american ninja warrior. she doesn’t give a shit. why would she be afraid ? life was infinitely more fucking terrifying than this. – even if you can all go fuck yourselves being the proximity to her just getting the fuck out of a rehab stint that was more like twelve vacations without any vacationing.
she’s sober and she’s motherfucking furious. she’s resentful. she’s hateful. but most of all , she’s fucking delighted there’s no structure to what she can do. she doesn’t have appointments. she doesn’t have photoshoots or tapings.
“ oh my god , you fucking weirdo. i swear , there’s a new one of you losers every week. yeah. i was talking shit. and i’m basically rabid so if you decide to pick me up i’m gonna take a fucking chunk out of your repulsive flesh with my teeth. oh wait. lemme save you the next lame few seconds of your life – ooh , kinky. was that your next statement? ”
she rolls her eyes.
“ get your own gimmick , newbie. and give michael his knife back. if he can’t find it maybe he’ll kill you with it when he sees you holding it. ” —— ( *69 )
it was rare for a survivor to get an audible laugh from the ghost, but this woman? this woman got a visceral kick from his lungs. the soft smack of his gloves clapping together in delight accompanied the cloying chortle that clung to the back of the murderer's throat. it was a ghoulish sound, rusted by a neglect that took root long before he'd been enveloped by the fog.
what a monologue! of course, he had survivors cuss him out before. they chewed into what they thought were his nerves with sour words. they glowered with a shimmering hatred from the hooks when their sobbing whimpers didn't catch a morsel of mercy from his long-dead heart. but a whole parade of trauma decked in spite and loathing for not just him, but e v e r y t h i n g that drew breath.
how unfortunate for her then that bitter women held a certain allure.
like a cat nose-deep in nip, ghostface basked the precious air she wasted with all her vexing words. the smile beneath his mask stretched wider the longer she went on. but it was the way she spat out "kinky" that really brought the glittering light from the depths of the killer's dark eyes.
❝ i always thought i was more bava than myers, ❞ he uttered the name so gently as tapped the tip of his blade against the chin of his mask thoughtfully. his voice was surprisingly smooth even through the vinyl, coat against the dense cold that seeped in through the gaps between the rotting rafters.
❝ ah, but such a clever miss. she's got me all figured out. ❞ his hunting knife caught the reflection of the snowlight that cut through the gloom as he played with the tip. he thumbed it, turning it over in his hand as he looked her over from beneath shroud of his mask.
what a fascinating story her vitriol must protect. the specter wondered how much of it he could coax from her lips before she gagged on her own blood.
❝ but i'm a persistent man. so, if the hook's too vanilla for you, sweetheart, i've got an idea that will make this night — ❞ the steel of his blade rang as he gave it a final flick, ❝ a real headliner. ❞
#theyeardecembered#theyeardecembered / 01.#theyeardecembered / trish walker.#main tbt.#danny: i like my women how i like my coffee#bitter and keeping me up all night
1 note
·
View note
Text
Hieibara Week Day 3: Bed Sharing
[I wanted to write something lighter, and I completely failed rip. Sorry in advance.]
“Kuwabara!” Yusuke shouted even though he was right next to him, “I’m gonna funnel the tequila, you wanna help me?” He fumbled as he tried to connect the rainbow funnel with its matching tube.
“No one’s funneling hard shit in my fucking house!” Shizuru bellowed from across the room. She was definitely drunk and taking what had to be her fifth shot of the night with Botan. What a hypocrite.
Kuwabara sighed and finished his beer, “I think you’ve had enough Urameshi.” He, on the other hand, was nicely tipsy which, in his humble opinion, was the best kind of drunk. All the stupidity and fun and none of the hangover in the morning.
“Aw, you guys are so lame. I’m just trying to catch up with Hiei,” Yusuke whined, “You should drink more, dude. It’s your birthday after all.” He sang the last two words, and Kuwabara forgot just how tone deaf Yusuke was.
Hiei was sitting criss cross applesauce on the carpet by the couch, wearing Shizuru’s bright red sunglasses and nursing his own personal bottle of Malibu rum. He leaned against an unbelievably patient Yukina, who was desperately trying to replace the rum with a bottle of water. Unfortunately for her, Hiei was even more stubborn than usual once he started drinking.
“Hiei’s not someone you want to beat, man. You’re gonna get alcohol poisoning trying to keep up with him.” Kuwabara tried to pry the funnel from Yusuke’s iron grip, and just when Kuwabara was making some progress, a hand pulled him back.
He turned his head, baffled, “Kurama, what the fuck?”
Kurama had probably 20 plastic bead necklaces around his neck and a tired smile on his face, “Yusuke’s fine. We should let him funnel something.”
“Kurama! See Kuwabara? He’s the smartest guy we know! I’m fiiine!” Yusuke chimed in. He was attempting to bop his head to the pop music Shizuru had put on, but he was incredibly offbeat.
Kuwabara slapped his forehead and groaned, “Jesus, you too? How much did you fucking drink? Yusuke’s two drinks away from vomiting on the carpet and if he does that again Shizuru might really kill him this time.”
“I haven’t had nearly enough,” Kurama sighed and pushed his hair behind his shoulder, “But I’ve been the bartender all night. Yusuke could really use this.” Kuwabara was about to scream because Kurama was sounding absolutely insane, but then he finally noticed the tall glass of water behind Kurama’s back.
“You’re a fucking genius,” Kuwabara said in awe.
“I know,” Kurama nodded to the carpet, “You mind helping Yukina?” Kuwabara followed Kurama’s side glance. Hiei took another swig of Malibu from the bottle.
“Alright. You sure you can handle him?” Kuwabara asked. Yusuke picked up a third empty bottle, desperately trying to find more alcohol before he funneled an absurd amount of what he thought was tequila. As if on cue, Keiko came up from behind Kurama and Kuwabara and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I got this,” She said brazenly. Keiko was a warrior bravely venturing into a bloody battle. Kuwabara almost saluted her.
Kuwabara glanced over at Hiei again before he left. Kurama whispered to him, “He’s very touchy and mean right now. Be prepared.”
“So he’s normal,” Kuwabara grumbled. Kurama snickered, the little alcohol he drank making him giddier than usual. Kuwabara grabbed a beer on his way to Hiei and Yukina.
“Please, Hiei. You’ve already had so much. I’m sure you want something to eat,” Yukina begged quietly. She held a pretzel towards him. The pretzel dangled in front of Hiei’s face, and he didn’t even register that it was there.
“I want to be drunk,” Hiei mumbled. He pushed Yukina’s hand away, and the pretzel fell to the ground. Kuwabara noticed that the red shades Hiei was wearing covered his eyes, but not the Jagan. It was almost funny. Kuwabara thought briefly about how he should buy Hiei one of those three lens sunglasses for costumes.
“Yeah, so do I, shortie. But instead I’m babysitting Urameshi and you. Just eat the damn pretzels,” Kuwabara responded, exasperated.
“Oh, Kazuma!” She greeted, “Can you help him for a bit? I need to use the restroom,” She smiled warmly and rushed off to the bathroom. Kuwabara stood, stunned at the sudden responsibility he was given.
“Great, now the oaf is going to try to tell me what to do,” Hiei huffed and tried to take another swig. Kuwabara was, for once, faster than Hiei. He did a very bad job of not trying to gloat.
“Can’t drink if you don’t have alcohol,” he said. He looked at the Malibu bottle, took an experimental sip and was surprised when he didn’t wince, “This is really sweet. No wonder you’re drinking so much.”
Hiei stared at his empty hands, “That was mine.” He didn’t try to take it back from Kuwabara. Kuwabara shoved the Malibu in the cabinet that held all their DVDs and turned back to Hiei.
“And now it’s gone. Sucks. Eat the pretzels Yukina got you,” Kuwabara bit. He wasn’t good at babysitting drunk people. He wasn’t even good at being a drunk person. When he got really wasted, he would usually end the night sobbing about everything and nothing.
Hiei didn’t move or say anything and Kuwabara sighed and sat next to him on the floor. He still didn’t move.
“Hiei?” He leaned closer and heard his steady breathing and relaxed. Kuwabara took off the red sunglasses and confirmed his suspicions. Hiei fell asleep.
“You did it!” Yukina cheered walking back to the two of them.
“He passed out as soon as I took the bottle away. I didn’t really do anything,” Kuwabara said, and he downed the rest of his beer. It would be his last drink of the night, even if he did want to follow in Hiei’s example and just pass out drunk.
Yukina picked her brother up, surprisingly easily, and turned to Kuwabara, “Can he stay the night? I don’t want to move him too much on our walk home.” The insinuation that Yukina could walk all the way to her house carrying Hiei gave Kuwabara whiplash. He constantly forgot that Yukina was a demon, and because of that, she was extremely powerful.
“Yeah sure,” Kuwabara replied nonchalantly, ignoring his initial shock, “I’ll take him upstairs.”
“Oh, he can sleep on the couch. It’s not a big deal,” Yukina insisted, and Hiei shifted in her arms.
“That couch will break his fucking back, believe me,” Kuwabara shrugged, and Yukina raised an eyebrow, “It’s not a big deal. I’ll just use a sleeping bag.”
She nodded and carefully handed Hiei off, trying not to jostle the fire demon too much. Hiei felt warm and so ridiculously small in his arms. He wanted to bring him closer, feel more of that warmth.
Maybe he shouldn’t have had that last beer.
Yukina gave him a smile and waved him off, going towards Shizuru and Botan. He walked carefully to the stairs. Yusuke drunkenly whistled at them on his way out of the living room, and Kuwabara felt his face heat up.
“Shut up, Urameshi,” he muttered.
Surprisingly, he made it all the way up the stairs and into Kuwabara’s bedroom without Hiei waking up. He carried him to the bed, and gently placed him on it, bringing the covers over him. Asleep, Hiei didn’t look nearly as aggressive or intimidating. He looked innocent, almost cute. Almost.
Kuwabara sat at the edge of the bed, “Happy birthday to me, I guess.” He sighed and went to stand up, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm. He turned around, “Hiei?”
He had a dazed look in his eyes. His little nap didn’t sober him up at all. Great.
“D-oh…” He groaned, his voice gruff from the alcohol, “Ugh.”
“Go to sleep. You need it,” Kuwabara was dumbfounded with just how out of it Hiei was. He was almost a different person.
“Don’t go,” Hiei finally got out.
Kuwabara felt his jaw drop, “What?”
Hiei grimaced, still disoriented, and practically whimpered, “Don’t leave me.”
Kuwabara snapped his jaw shut, speechless. This was Hiei saying that he didn’t want to leave Kuwabara. He barely even liked Kuwabara, but he wanted to spend alone time with him? Hiei must really be wasted.
“You’re drunk, Hiei,” he said, his face still the dictionary definition of bewilderment.
Hiei frowned, “I know that.” He moved slowly on the bed and leaned against Kuwabara and practically fucking purred. Kuwabara pinched himself, and it stung. Not a dream.
“Then, you know that that’s a stupid thing to say.” Kuwabara said. He just wanted to grab his sleeping bag, and sleep this whole night off because there was no way this could be happening.
“You’re the stupid one. I want you here with me,” Hiei said, and his words were a bit slurred but confident. Drunk Hiei really wanted to spoon with him all night. What the fuck. Sober Hiei didn’t even want to be in the same vicinity as him.
“W-what?” He was nervous. Why was he nervous?
“Hm?” Hiei growled and buried his face in Kuwabara’s shoulder. The hand on his forearm crawled its way to his bicep, and it was so, so warm. Jesus, was he really that touch starved?
“You don’t know what you want. You’re drunk,” Kuwabara reasoned.
“You’re a fool. You haven’t made a move,” Hiei breathed into his shoulder, and Kuwabara shivered.
“What are you even talking about?” He asked.
“You’ve been looking at me,” he whispered, and Kuwabara froze, “You haven’t made a move.” Drunk Hiei was pretty fucking coherent, and Kuwabara couldn’t help but wish he wasn’t.
He bit the inside of his cheek, “No, I haven’t.” He didn’t think there was any reason to. He thought it was pointless. Hiei would just write him off like he always did.
“Why not?” Hiei asked, and his lips brushed against Kuwabara’s neck. Kuwabara swallowed thickly, and pulled Hiei off him, looking him in the eyes.
“This is dumb,” He sighed for what felt like the millionth time that night, “You’re drunk. I’m not having this conversation until you’re sober.”
There was a sense of clarity in Hiei’s eyes as if, underneath the fog of alcohol, his brain grasped onto what Kuwabara said. He nodded, unwilling to say anything more.
“I gotta grab my sleeping bag,” he said to himself. He got up.
“Please, don’t. Stay,” Hiei said, quiet and begging. Kuwabara didn’t turn around to look at Hiei’s expression, afraid of what he might see. Afraid to get hope. Hiei was drunk. He wasn’t in his right mind.
“You don’t want this. Not really, anyway,” Kuwabara choked out. He was barely holding back a dam of tears. Damn, he really drank too much tonight. He shouldn’t be crying. Not over Hiei. Not over someone who can’t and who won’t love him back.
“I do. Please, stay. Please,” Hiei was really begging now. Kuwabara hadn’t heard him beg for anything, not even his life, “I can’t be alone. Please.”
Kuwabara’s heart broke. Hiei sounded desperate.
“Just to sleep?” Kuwabara asked.
“Anything. Please,” Hiei repeated.
Kuwabara said good night to the remaining partygoers downstairs and changed his clothes in the bathroom, and when he returned, Hiei was already fast asleep on his bed.
“So much for needing me to stay,” he said fondly. He crawled in bed anyway, leaving plenty of room between them. Hiei was so small that it wasn’t difficult even though Kuwabara’s bed wasn’t particularly big.
Despite drinking, he found it very difficult to sleep. He faced Hiei (so peaceful, so perfect), and thought about what would happen in the morning. More than likely, Hiei would find a way to sneak out and avoid him for weeks, maybe months. He’d pretend like he said nothing tonight, that they were still practically enemies. Kuwabara would play along because that was easier than trying to get Hiei to talk about his feelings. It would hurt, and he would bury his feelings as much as he could.
Still, something in his mind insisted that even though Hiei was drunk, he was honest. Hiei really did want something more between them. Kuwabara only hoped that, in the morning, he would stick around long enough to talk through this.
Kuwabara watched Hiei, curled towards him, still not touching. His breath was steady and almost silent.
He wouldn’t allow himself to touch Hiei, no matter how much he wanted to. It was a violation of Sober Hiei’s space, and he wouldn’t do that. After all, he was still a man of honor. He would willingly lie next to Hiei, not touching, for the rest of his life, if Hiei would just talk to him openly while he was sober.
But he did allow himself to whisper one thing to Hiei’s sleeping, unaware ears. He was only human, after all, and what Hiei couldn’t hear wouldn’t hurt him. It would only hurt Kuwabara, and he would willingly hurt himself just to get it off his chest.
“I think I love you.”
#hieikuwabaraweek#hieibara#my fics#second time i'm writing about a drunk hiei in these one shots#i'm living my last year of college through my small angry boy bc mr corona took it away
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Waylan’s Sabbatical (6/?)
A chunk of writing following our party NPC (and my Son) as he breaks away from the party. Our campaign uses names of places from various fandoms for fun but they have no real relation to the source material. (We also call the Raven Queen Nara because of some hasty Wiki reading) This section contains Terran and Waylan’s first meeting!
TW: Mentions of past torture, general violence, injury.
Part: First | Previous | Next
“Wake up!” The slap rattles his teeth as it hits him. If he wasn’t already crying he thinks the blow would force tears to his eyes. A fresh taste of blood coats the inside of his mouth as his vision swims around the dimly lit room. The Crimson Sign sneers down at him. Gods what he wouldn’t give to forget the times that Maurak sat down at the bar to share a drink with Gadreel. Because those memories only make the monster standing in front of him, a monster who has shattered his bones and hacked away at his arm, more vivid. Maurak was always a monster. He had just hid it well.
Another blow snaps his head to the other side, but this one is harder, hard enough he feels his cheekbone crumple inward and one of his teeth splinter and jam into the side of his tongue. Black spots dance across his vision and he tries to spit out the blood that’s rapidly pooling in his mouth before he chokes on it.
“He wasn’t the only monster in hiding.” Oh. Oh, thank Gods. It’s another one of these. His head spins as he forces himself to look up. He’s standing in front of his own bound body, Maurak’s knife in his flesh hand, and his metal one raised to deliver another blow if need be.
“It’s just a dream.” Waylan slurs to himself. “You’re not real.”
“Not yet.” The blow comes again. But this time he feels it reverberating up the gears of his arm. Sees Gadreel’s head snap to the side. Sees Lugh spitting out blood. Sees Vani’s legs bent at odd angles. Sees Ray’s arm hacked off, tattoos still burning. And it feels so good. He loves pressing his metal hand against their begging mouths, love watching his hand catch fire and the flesh bubble and blacken on their face as their screams rattle against his palm. He burns them until he can’t see their faces anymore, until he wakes up screaming with smoke clinging to the back of his throat.
****
It’s rare he wakes up screaming, and even rarer that he loses control of his magic nowadays. But when he comes out of his nightmare, brain soaked in pain and fear and sees a shadow moving towards him he strikes without thought. Magic dripping from his lips as he throws out a hand and blasts the approaching figure with a burst of flame.
“Waylan!” The Knight’s voice, so unfamiliar compared to the ones that haunt his dreams, manages to shake him from the lingering terror.
“Fuck, shit, Gods I’m sorry,” he jumps from the bed and rushes forward. “Are you alright?”
“I’m well enough. It would take far more than that to incapacitate me. You were screaming.”
“I’m sorry. That doesn’t usually happen.” The Knight stares down at him for a long moment. It’s times like this, with glowing red eyes looking down at him, he remembers that the lich towers over him just like Radiance, Lugh and Gadreel used to.
“The screaming, perhaps, doesn’t happen. But I watched over you as you healed. I had thought your nightmares a symptom of fever, but they haunt you now as well.” Waylan swallows the wave of shame that tries to crawl up his throat, reaches for anger instead.
“It’s none of your business.” The words are covered in barbs but the lich doesn’t seem to notice.
“Why do you keep coming back into the forest, Waylan?”
“What the fuck does it matter?” He turns away from the Knight, stalks over to the wardrobe with no doors to grab his few belongings. “I won’t be back.” Because this is too much. Too close. He left Creta so that no one would ask him questions he can’t answer. He doesn’t need those questions to find him here, least of all out of the mouth of an undead. He gathers his things as quickly as possible and makes for the door. The Black Knight’s gloved hand slams into the stone beside his head, cages him against the wall before he can make a break for it. Sparks flick up over his fingers nervously. He can’t fight a lich. He’s not strong enough for that. And even if he could get away from him he doesn’t know the castle as well. The Knight could certainly catch up to him if he wanted.
“Waylan.” He says his name lowly, the sound of it reverberating against his helmet. “You are not a traveler are you?”
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” He says, his throat tight.
“You are not traveling, you are running. A coward, fleeing from a person, or a memory. And you have found a home in woods that makes cowards of all who journey inside.”
“You’re still here.” He snaps. “Two hundred years later in this place for cowards. What are you hiding from?”
“I’m not hiding. The forest you see and the one I live in are very different. You will stay here and I will show you.” The Knight drops his hand and gives Waylan a bit of space. “Maybe when I am finished you will be able to face what you were running from.”
“You aren’t going to keep me here against my will.”
“I’m not. But I think you know as well as I that you’d return again even if you left right now.”
And every nerve in him is scraped raw and pulled taut and he desperately wants to walk out the door, take his things, find a ship, and move on to a new place. He could be away from Okren in four days time if he didn’t rest. He could leave and never come back. Never blink at what might have happened to the Dark Forest and the warrior lich that lived there.
But the stump of his arm is aching, and his throat is still raw from screaming. He hasn’t heard from the others in weeks. He hasn’t slept well in months. And he’s tired of running.
****
The next morning the Knight has him up at the crack of dawn and as soon as he’s dressed and fed they’re heading out through the service tunnels and into the forest. To be honest he’s still half furious with himself for staying. The other half is furious with the lich for presuming to know so much about him and having the gall to be right. Which doesn’t make him much for conversation and they head deeper into the forest.
Waylan’s been past the castle before. He’s gone about four days further, but it was extremely slow going. When he’d first started traveling through the Dark Forest he thought that the castle would be at the heart of the forest and the most difficult to make it to. But while there are plenty of monsters and treacherous land serving as deterrents, he found the actual landscape of the forest beyond the castle is far more hazardous. The Knight navigates through the foggy landscape with ease even as Waylan starts to struggle for breath as a the mist takes on a sharp and nauseating odor. It takes until about mid day, but eventually he has to pause, coughing hard enough that he thinks he might shake a lung loose.
“Apologies, I forget the boons my existence offers me.”
“Yeah, well, do you know if this fog is toxic for us lowly humans?”
“It will not poison you, but it will be uncomfortable.” The Knight looks around and then says, “Ah, little one,” Waylan is about to start cursing when he sees the lich looking over at a squirrel that’s sitting up in a nearby tree. “Get a message to your master. Tell him I have come to visit and hope he will extend the same hospitality to my friend as he has graciously done for myself.” The squirrel cocks its head and then skitters across the branches, leaping into the next tree and then on into the thick forest until Waylan can’t spot it anymore.
“I don’t think I want to meet your friend.”
“I will do my best to keep you safe.” And Waylan doesn’t like the sincerity in the tone.
“What am I about to meet?”
“‘Who’, you’re going to meet the dragon who has made his home within my borders.”
“A dragon?” Realization slides sickeningly along the same path as sour air to his lungs. “A green dragon?” The lich inclines his head. “I can’t meet a green dragon, Knight! I helped kill one!” He hisses.
“And why would I care about that little human?” The words come in raspy tones and Waylan tenses as he turns to face the new speaker. Fuck him with a dull pike. Fuck.
There is no towering creature before him and somehow that makes what is standing there even more terrifying. Only old dragons can take human form and the one standing in front of him has to be old. And the older a dragon is the more dangerous. The man is tall and thin, too thin, with his dark leathers clinging to his body. His cheekbones jut out sharply as if he’s missed a few dozen meals, and the long fingered hands that he folds in front of himself as he considers the two of them are thin with his knuckles making knobby protrusions. His eyes are an unnatural vibrant yellow and his hair is shorn very short against his skull, so short Waylan can’t really tell the color, only that the fuzz is very dark.
“If you managed to kill a dragon that means it was not worthy of life. What kind of higher being gets slain by a flea?”
“Waylan this is Terran, the Hungry One.” The Knight dips his head respectfully and Waylan follows suit. “Terran, this is Waylan, the human who has been mapping the forest.”
“Yes, yes, your little pet project. Why bring him to meet me?” Terran looks Waylan over disinterestedly. “Unless you’ve brought me an offering, Lich?”
“Not this time.”
Waylan is half a second away from casting a fireball between them all, turning invisible, and making a run for it.
“He speaks draconic. You so often complain you no longer get to converse in your mother tongue I thought you would appreciate the opportunity.”
Waylan thinks he sees a spark of interest in the dragon’s eyes. “Is that true little human, do you speak a language far superior to the one that humans use to grunt through their meaningless lives?”
Every inch of him bristles at the comment. And for a wonderful, suicidal moment, Waylan considers telling the dragon to go fuck himself in clean curt draconic. Instead he settles on, “If a language’s worth is based on how many know it then the ravings of a madman must be far more blessed than even Tiamat’s tongue.”
Terran stares at him for a long moment and Waylan wonders if he can still spit poison in this form. Then he looks over at the Black Knight. “He lives, for now.”
“Your patience is appreciated.”
#wow i was really up my own ass with the purple prose when i wrote this huh#cotd fics#waylan's sabbatical#waylan#terran#corzaren#my writing#dnd fic#this is what happens when you let something sit in your docs for a year
1 note
·
View note
Note
do you happen to have any random hcs/facts/info about the electric sheep verse? (i'm in love with it)
hi anon!!
Sorry it’s taken me an age and a half to get around to this question, I’ve been in dissertation-mode for the last two weeks or so.
BUT
I love love love my electric sheep series and I would love to maybe do a quick little spin off piece or two with it at some point.
I don’t really have too many headcanons/facts atm, but I do have this fun idea at the top of my head right now (I’m putting it under the cut since it’s long and silly)
So electric sheep ends with Matt becoming a vigilante for droids. At some point, Jess realizes that she can make something of him for her PI work and tries to borrow him off Foggy and Fogs is like, yeah, fucking take him he’s droid-teething and keeps chewing on all the Expo markers in the office. Jess does.
They get into all kinds of trouble. Jess starts dragging Matt with her further and further out of Hell’s Kitchen and he starts making other friends along the way.
He befriends Clint who doesn’t realize he’s a droid at first. He’s just like, ‘woah, Jones, handsome, flexible boy you’re got there, mind if I borrow him for a minute for some satellite-dish-related issues?’
To which Jess thinks, ‘I need to see this android confronted with his dumbass dish-cousin; this is gonna be like him crooning at Nelson’s laptop all over again’ and says, ‘yeah, take him.’
After this, Clint learns that Matt’s a bot then just assumes that Matt is kind of like a household AI. Like a really fancy roomba. So any time he sees him, he’s like ‘heeeeeey, Red. You got a minute? I got a pilot light out.”
And Matt doesn’t know what to make of this friendly human and the hair ball that stalks him, so he just kinda goes, “help? I am good at helping. What is a pilot light? Does it fly?” and he goes and Clint eventually realizes that he’s teaching this droid more about home repair than the droid is actually repairing his home and it finally dawns on him that maybe this is not Matt’s primary purpose.
But, not to fear! Clint is familiar with someone like this!
He introduces Matt to Bucky, who is partial droid with his arm and the like. Buck, though, is confused by Matt because, well. “he’s one of them war-bots, man.” And Clint is like ‘oh. Fuck.’ Only to realize that he’s lost Jess at some point and he doesn’t actually know who Matt belongs to.
Matt tells him he belongs to himself and both Clint and Buck get freaked out because they think he’s like a sentient AI built specifically for fighting purposes and they decide they need to remove him from his owner, actually, since this guy is a warmonger-er.
So they laugh nervously and watch Matt bounce off back to Hell’s Kitchen and then they go panic-run to Steve who is, at least in the eyes of the law, Buck’s owner in the case that he goes berserk or something. And Steve is like,‘oh fuck. no. I’ve heard of that cat, he’s the rogue bot that’s been out at night fighting humans left, right and center.’
So he agrees to go intercept Matt and take him to Buck’s mechanic to get him sorted out and reprogrammed to be less of a violent hellhound (they still don’t know that that isn’t his programming, that’s just him being him.) Anyways, they go and track him down to find him lawyer-ing away with Fogs and trying to sneakily chew on shit in the office and they’re like,
‘what.’
But they try to intercept anyways, and then that turns into them accusing Fogs of being an underground war-bot trafficker and he throws them out and Matt waves while he does while Karen tries to tell him that this is “no. This is bad. Those are not friends, Matthew.”
This really only makes Steve, Buck, and Clint more concerned than ever, so they decide they’re gonna steal Matt.
They do not have to steal Matt. They catch him in the middle of a fight, right after a perp lands a hit that sends his processor flying and voila, just like that, they’ve got dopey, sweet, droid!Matt who knows mostly that his human is Foggy and, in the absence of his human, he really likes Clint (the pilot-man) and his harmonica.
The others note the personality change and the missing processor several blocks over and go, ‘wait no, that seems problematic.’ They ask droid!Matt about it and he hums without it and takes an age and a half to answer any of their questions, at which point it becomes very clear that that thing on his face was very important and–oh, fuck. He’s one of those human-made-droids and they just lost the key to giving him his humanity and oh, god, they’d harassed Nelson for no reason–they’re about to get their asses sued to hell and back over violating android rights.
Rather than face Nelson who will murder them in cold blood, no doubt, they decide to hold onto Matt to keep him safe until they find his processor. Then they’ll give him back and apologize for the misunderstanding.
Steve goes back to find it. Buck and Clint, not knowing what to do with this very friendly bot in the meantime, decide to take him to Buck’s mechanic to see if they can do anything for him until they find his processor.
Peter’s the mechanic. Teeny baby 12yo Peter working with Uncle Ben in their bot-shop.
Peter falls in love with Matt instantly; Ben recognizes his hardware as Advancement’s tech, though, and immediately knows the shit he’s been through. He knows that Matt is programmed to be a fighter bot and he wants him to get the fuck away from Peter–but it’s too late. They love each other.
Matt gets territorial over Peter and won’t let anyone touch him. Steve comes back with the processor and they wrangle Peter away from Matt and then the processor back onto him. And just like that, now they’ve got a pissed off, disabled, former-warrior-bot-turned-lawyer on their hands, threatening them with legal action.
He huffs. He puffs. He leaves, embarrassed. He finds Foggy and clings. And the others are all so baffled at what’s just happened and Matt’s frankly incredible abilities that they decide that they want to get him to work with the Avengers Initiative.
And then a whole new cycle of ‘fuck you, don’t you even look at me or my human ever again’ starts up between Matt and Steve and Buck, whereas towards Clint Matt’s always like ‘why have you betrayed me like this pilot man? I thought you were kind and good?’
Clint feels bad and tries to make amends and in doing so finds himself becoming a Trusted Human for half the former-fighter bots in the city. They all call him the Pilot Man. Peter starts calling him the Pilot Man and sneaks into the circle to do rogue repairs and programming for these former war-criminals.
And end scene.
Anyways, this was a whole lot of nonsense anon, but I hope it did something for you!
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pretender Reads A Little Hatred, Part I, Chapter One
It's time. Goes without saying spoilers ahead for the entirety of The First Law works beyond the keep reading. Read at your own risk.
PART I
"The age is running mad after innovation;
and all the business of the world
is to be done in a new way.”
—Dr Johnson
No joke? This quotes gave me chills as a declaration of authorial intent. I have a slightly more optimistic view of The First Law’s world, but even I knew the first trilogy’s intent was, beyond commenting on how much Abercrombie dug Lord of the Rings so much that he wrote a trilogy to show his... appreciation, to show that, as much as people want to change, they are helpless to actually commit by their pasts, being pieces and pawns to the old ways and grudges of Bayaz and Khalul’s “great” war of two old assholes fighting over grudges kept alive solely two great powers butting heads over wrongs long past.
That human nature is fundamentally unchanging.
But, at the same time? Abercrombie’s throwing down a gauntlet with this quote. With the new flavor of fantasy he’s promising, the new generation of characters he has to usher in to spearhead that new age, he has to change. He cannot rehash the old stories. Cannot repeat the old patterns. Cannot force the old systems continuing to work, having grown rusty and creaky with age. History has to move forward. Meaning he has to pave the path to new ways. The question is, new way in what manner? New ways as in a social progress, positive change, a better world? Or new ways as in Bayaz changing from magic to money, and from spells to cannons, in order to assert the same small-minded ideal of might makes right with different tools?
It’s a new age of madness, but with human nature being what it is? Abercrombie has shown that a little hatred goes a long way to lead us to stepping upon old roads left behind our parents, who they themselves trod on by their predecessors.
Chapter Title: Blessings and Curses
Point-of-View: Rikke
“Rikke.”
She prised one eye open. A slit of stabbing, sickening brightness.
“Come back.”
She pushed the spit-wet dowel out of her mouth with her tongue and croaked the one word she could think of. “Fuck.”
Now isn’t that just a typical Abercrombie sentiment. Actually, what I want to focus on is how this opening is lean compared to The Blade Itself:
Logen plunged through the trees, bare feet slipping and sliding on the wet earth, the slush, the wet pine needles, breath rasping in his chest, blood thumping in his head. He stumbled and sprawled onto his side, nearly cut his chest open with his own axe, lay there panting, peering through the shadowy forest.
—The Blade Itself, The End
From Blessings and Curses, we already see a much apparent crispness of voice, short paragraphs broken apart, an unusual situation of a girl opening one eye and having to come back (come back from what?) There’s a surreal quality that Logen’s opening, as much as I like it as an introduction to The Blade Itself, can’t beat beyond the chapter title. Yet, to remind us it’s Abercrombie, someone has to say fuck. Because of course.
“There’s my girl!” Isern squatted beside her, necklace of runes and finger bones dangling, grinning that twisted grin that showed the hole in her teeth and offering no help at all.
HOLY FUCK IT’S CRUMMOCK’S SHIN-KICKER AAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
“I saw folk falling from a high tower. Dozens of ’em.” She winced at the thought of them hitting the ground. “I saw folk hanged. Rows of ’em.” Her gut cramped at the memory of swinging bodies, dangling feet. “I saw … a battle, maybe? Below a red hill.”
Isern sniffed. “This is the North. Takes no magic to see a battle coming. What else?”
“I saw Uffrith burning.” Rikke could almost smell the smoke still. She pressed her hand to her left eye. Felt hot. Burning hot.
“What else?”
“I saw a wolf eat the sun. Then a lion ate the wolf. Then a lamb ate the lion. Then an owl ate the lamb.”
“Must’ve been a real monster of an owl.”
“Or a tiny little lamb, I guess? What does it mean?”
So, full disclosure here: I did read the A Little Hatred blurb before reading, so I already knew we were getting something like this... but holy shit, we’re seriously getting a prophet? I’m going to talk my precise thoughts on this later, in full first impressions of Rikke as a character, but man, I usually hate prophecies and prophets, but with Abercrombie? Dude’s earned enough credit (specifically, everything to do with Grom-gil-Gorm’s prophecy in the Shattered Sea series) at my trust bank to get me to care. And I love how Rikke can still feel the sensory details of her visions, the costs of magic. Magic.
Also, am I a terrible person for, seeing the eats in the prophecy, immediately thinking Eaters? I probably am.
I’ll hold off on dissecting the prophecy at the chapter’s end.
"Well, I can unveil two secrets right away.” Rikke groaned as she pushed herself up onto one elbow. “My head hurts and I shat myself.”
"That second one’s no secret, anyone with a nose is party to it.”
"Shitty Rikke, they’ll call me." She wrinkled her nose as she shifted. “And not for the first time.”
"Your problem is in caring what they call you.”
There’s definitely a very winning formula with how Rikke and Isern’s dynamic works: the young, soft-hearted naif butting and bouncing heads against the more world-weary, a touch twisted, experienced warrior. Rikke complains about how much the world will react to her, Isern tells her to suck it up because Rikke doesn’t have to care at all.
Also, not going to lie: part of why I love Rikke is that she shits herself during her visions and fits. It undercuts the mystique of magic with the unpleasant consequences, grounded in reality.
Isern tapped under her left eye. “You say cursed with fits, I say blessed with the Long Eye.”
So. First off, fun fact:
Crummock spun one of the wooden signs on his necklace round and around. “I can’t see her letting Bethod lose, and herself along with him, can you? A witch as clever as that one? There’s all kinds of magic she could mix. All kinds of blessings and curses. All kinds of ways that bitch could tilt the outcome, as though the chances weren’t tilted enough already.”
—Last Argument of Kings, Leaves on the Water
History echoes, doesn’t it? Another i-Phail, another user of the Long Eye, and a discussion about the blessings and curses of magic. The players are different, but the sentiments are similar enough to ripple from the past to the present.
Now, my first reaction to reading this part of the blurb was: WHOA WHOA WHOA, Caurib’s Long Eye from The First Law trilogy? OH MY GOD!!!!! Just more connective tissue to link this book from its past, the earliest roots of Abercrombie’s world-building, when he was still tinkering with what he wanted (long eye isn’t even capitalized in The First Law’s mention of it). It’s a nice reference for us long-time readers and a magical power for the new readers.
Mind you, all I’m thinking is: was Caurib, every time she was decked out and being impossibly beautiful in the way Abercrombie wrote her... was she actually having fits and headaches and shitting for her visions? Because, wow, I can only imagine how frustrated she must’ve been having to make public appearances. I can just imagine her wishing everyone would fuck off so she could have headaches and shit in peace. Already makes me like Caurib a lot more now.
“Huh.” Rikke rolled onto her knees and her stomach kept on rolling and tickled her throat with sick. By the dead, she felt sore and squeezed out. Twice the pain of a night at the ale cup and none of the sweet memories. “Doesn’t feel like much of a blessing to me,” she muttered, once she’d risked a little burp and fought her guts to a draw.
I really do appreciate how much Abercrombie grounds and mixes a curse into magical “blessings.” I was really skeptical of putting in some last trace of magic in anyone, but Rikke’s right in it not being a blessing, and considering magic is on its last legs, there’s no way Bayaz won’t meet her later and clutch his monstrous hands on her Long Eye, teaching her finesse in exchange for getting to aim where it goes towards.
Another tool. Another weapon to kill his enemies.
"Might have to rope you in future, make sure you don’t crack your nut and end up a drooler like my brother Brait. At least he can keep his shit in, mind you.”
HOW MANY SONS DID CRUMMOCK HAVE. THE FUCK!? I can’t even find a Brait anywhere except The Heroes and that was clearly not him. For one, he didn’t drool!
“My head still aches so bad I can feel it in my teeth.” Rikke wanted to shout but knew it’d hurt too much, so she had to whine it soft instead. “I need no more small discomforts.”
“Life is small discomforts, girl! They’re how you know you are alive.”
Another part of why I like Rikke so much is that, as a character starting out, she whines. A decent amount. She’s admittedly got some good reason to do so, but as the narrative points out and Isern especially, at least living means you get to whine about it and too much of it will only enable more discomfort, make the pain bigger. There’s intentional room to grow for Rikke and the fact that Abercrombie lets her be a bit of a whiner at the risk of alienating readers is a writer’s courage I always try to emulate.
Character development’s has to start somewhere.
“Guess not. Just, in the songs, it’s a thing witches and magi and deep-wise folk used to see into the fog of what comes. Not a thing that makes idiots fall down and shit themselves.”
“In case you never noticed, bards have a habit of dressing things up. There is a fine living, d’you see, in songs about deep-wise witches, but in shitty idiots, less.”
Snrrrrrk. I got to love how Abercrombie shades lesser and classic fantasies. He does so well with it.
“And proving you have the Long Eye is no simple matter. You cannot force it open. You must coax it.” And Isern tickled Rikke under the chin and made her jerk away. “Take it up to the sacred places where the old stones stand so the moon might shine full upon it. But it’ll see what it sees when it chooses, even so.”
Huh. Crummock made it clear that there was something special about the moon during his time in Last Argument of Kings. I assumed it was solely just him thinking the moon’s love made men more violent and strong, but did he think it could influence magic? Given his more singular focus on violence and his clear Bloody-Nine murderboner fanboying, I think Crummock was a lot more close-minded about how the moon can affect things. Isern’s a lot more flexible, by comparison.
(Also, are those sacred places that fortress Logen and Crummock and the rest had their last stand in the High Places? Crummock did say it was well loved of the moon...)
“War?”
“It’s when a fight gets so big almost no one comes out of it well.”
“I know what it bloody is.” Rikke had a spot of fear growing at the nape of her neck which she couldn’t shrug off however much she wriggled her shoulders. “But there’s been peace in the North all my lifetime.”
“My da used to say times of peace are when the wise prepare for violence.”
“Your da was mad as a bootful of dung.”
“And what does your da say? Few men so sane as the Dogman.”
Rikke wriggled her shoulders one more time, but nothing helped. “He says hope for the best and prepare for the worst.”
Isern’s first line is true, but also makes me think of all the Northmen who came into war, looking for glory and a Name, and came out dead or unable to stop killing, their bloody footsteps followed by fellow warriors with same dreams of glory and a Name, just younger. War chews up men and spits them out, dead or alive, no one living coming out without trauma and/or a score of dead friends.
Also, Dogman’s daughter, huh! Good on him for managing to raise a decent child in the Circle of the World, even if she has her share of flaws. Rikke certainly reminds me of a softer, more whinier Dogman, yet still decent.
Rikke blinked at her. ‘You can’t have been ten years old.’
‘Old enough to kill a man.’
‘What?’
‘Used to carry my da’s hammer, ’cause the smallest should take the heaviest load, but that day he was fighting with the hammer so I had his spear. This very one.’ Its butt tapped the rhythm of their walking on the path. ‘My da knocked a man down, and he was trying to get up, and I stabbed him right up the arse.’
‘With that spear?’ Rikke had come to think of it as just a stick Isern carried. A stick that happened to have a deerskin cover over one end. She didn’t like thinking there was a blade under there. Especially not one that had been up some poor bastard’s arse.
I love Abercrombie’s humor, especially given how actually rather depressing Isern’s age of killing was. It always serves to give levity to some heavy stuff in the story, preventing the darkness from choking most people whole. It’s the “poor bastard” part of that last line that brings the smile and laughter out.
“Girl, you have a ring through your nose.”
“I am aware.” And Rikke stuck her tongue out and touched the tip to it. “It keeps me tethered.”
Hey, you want to know another part of why I really like Rikke? Nose rings are fucking cool. Gives her a distinct appearance and fashion.
Now if only other prophets had nose rings instead of cloaks and vague portents, I wouldn’t find them so bloody boring.
“You’ve a wolf on your shield,” she said.
“Stour Nightfall’s mark,” growled the big man, with a hint of pride, and Rikke saw he had a wolf on his shield, too, though his was scuffed almost back to the wood.
(Looks at his book) Well, shit! The cover’s actually relevant. I was eyeing the UK cover better, but now that this US/Can one has meaning, I can accept it.
Also, Stour Nightfall is the coolest fucking name. Can’t wait to meet him!
“Nightfall’s the greatest warrior since the Bloody-Nine!” piped up the young one. “He’s going to take back Angland and drive the Union out o’ the North!”
(Arches an eyebrow) I don’t take issue with taking back Angland, there’s some valid enough history with Casamir that I don’t blame the North for it, but how did what I theorized to be Calder’s son become such a beef-cake? But really? Greatest warrior since the Bloody-Nine? I can’t help but think him a cut-price Bloody-Nine now.
“The Union?” And Rikke looked down at the wolf’s head badly daubed on his badly made shield. "A wolf ate the sun,” she whispered.
Thank you, Rikke, I studied English lit in high school. I can do my own analysis of symbolism and visions.
Rikke’s arrow stuck into his back, just under his shoulder blade.
Her turn to say, “Oh,” not sure whether she’d meant to let go the string or not.
A flash of metal and the old man’s head jolted, the blade of Isern’s spear catching him in the throat. He dropped his own spear, grabbed for her with clumsy fingers.
“Shush.” Isern slapped his hand away and ripped the blade free in a black gout.
The inexperienced child and hardened warrior dynamic continues with Rikke accidentally, not knowing if she meant to or not, dooming a boy to death and Isern, experienced hand at the black business, aims for the kill and gives her enemies no ground to gain leverage upon her. But, ultimately...
“You killed ’em.” Rikke felt all hot. There were some red speckles on her hand. The big one was lying on his face, shirt soaked dark.
“You killed this one,” said Isern. The lad knelt there, making these squeaky little gasps as he tried to reach around his back to the arrow shaft, though what he’d do if he got his fingertips to it, Rikke had no idea.
... no one’s hands in this world remain clean for too long.
“Then killing ’em was all o’ the one choices we had, eh? Your problem is you’re all heart.” And she stabbed Rikke in the tit with one bony finger.
“Ow!” Rikke took a step away, holding her arms across her chest. “That hurts, you know!”
“You’re all heart all over, so you feel every sting and buffet. You must make of your heart a stone.” And Isern thumped her ribs with a fist, the finger bones around her neck rattling. “Ruthlessness is a quality much loved o’ the moon.” As if to prove the point, she bent down and heaved the dead lad into the bushes. “A leader must be hard, so others don’t have to be.”
First off, I stabbed my own chest with my own finger just now to see how much it hurt. I can only imagine the increased discomfort with doing it to breasts.
Second off, to give my first impressions of Rikke... well, it’s funny. I once talked to a great friend of mine who we love to talk tropes and stories and fiction about and I told him I generally don’t gravitate to the rougher shit-talking tomboy and the prophet character tropes. To be quite frank, the former bores me on general lack of craft (everyone seems to think the trope itself constitutes a strong personality!) and the latter is just dry plot exposition on two legs generally, full of billowing cloaks and being fuck-useless 99% of the story.
Rikke might have been love at first sight for a few reasons.
The consequences of prophecy. I keep nailing this point, but I do for a reason: I have rarely seen a prophet actually endure physical ailments for their magical gifts, and the headaches, the fits, the burning hot eye, and the shitting? It helps ground Rikke’s struggles in less abstract details so we can sympathize better. We might not have had visions, but we’ve had headaches, hot eyes and shat before.
She’s got a personality! She’s rough, she gives as good verbally as she gets, but she’s also kind and not someone who goes for violence as a first resort. But, at the same time, she’s definitely got her flaws. She’s a whiner. There’s a touch of naivety and inexperience that shows when she talks how times were different when Dogman was fighting and Isern shuts that illusion down, there’s even a softness in her with how she said they should’ve given Stour’s thugs a chance.
Her partnership dynamic with Isern is really winning, allowing more of her personality to bounce off of Isern while having some sass of her own to snap back at Isern, allowing her to have a personality to bounce off of. It allows for development of both characters in a way that Abercrombie’s first attempt at having an early traveling pair in Malacus Quai and Logen can never match, given all the personality leaping off the screen.
The tonal difference. Rikke is a really decent kid dropped into the Circle of the World. In any other series, my eyes would glaze over in boredom. In here? There’s so much misery and depressing reality that happens in the Circle of the World, that it looks like it’ll be a treat to see how she’ll interacts with the older, hardened generation of characters and how much decency might touch upon them. And that only makes Isern’s advice to her all the more interesting. Because her being all heart is hardly Bayaz’s ideal tool and I get the sense that her turning her heart into stone won’t be a smooth ride.
The nose ring. I’m sorry if it makes me shallow, but that’s a cool design choice and love the tethered justification.
The morning mist was long faded and she could see all the way across the patchwork of new-planted fields to Uffrith, wedged in against the grey sea behind its grey wall. Where her father’s old hall stood with the scraggy garden out the back. Safe, boring Uffrith, where she’d been born and raised. Only it was burning, just the way she’d seen it, and a great column of dark smoke rolled up and smudged the sky, drifting out over the restless sea.
(winces) Well, that’s one part of the prophecy dealt with.
Isern wandered from the trees with her spear across her shoulders and a great smile across her face. ‘You know what this means?’
‘War?’ whispered Rikke, horrified.
“Aye, that.” Isern waved it away like it was a trifle. “But more to the matter, I was right!” And she clapped Rikke on the shoulder so hard she near knocked her down. “You do have the Long Eye!”
Hah! Somehow, Isern, I think she won’t take the blessing of that statement and only see the curse of it.
So! Theory-crafting on the prophecy itself!
The only tower I know of in the North was in the High Places, and given Isern’s with Rikke, I can imagine that’s certainly plausible. Either that or somewhere in the Union, given its towers, especially the Tower of Chains?
The battle below a red hill will be one of our battle set-pieces. Definitely something like the Casualties chapter in The Heroes.
Uffrith already burnt, but it was the first thing to happen, so the people hanged from towers and the red hill battle are yet to happen.
“I saw a wolf eat the sun” Stour taking down the Union.
“Then a lion ate the wolf” Leo taking down Stour, which I’d normally take as a sign I shouldn’t get invested because I already know the outcome... but given Grom-gil-Gorm’s prophecy twist, I think there’s plenty of ways this could easily turn twisted, especially with Black Calder about.
“Then a lamb ate the lion” I heard a decent amount of people say they thought it’d be straight-up Lamb and, man, NO. The point of Red Country is that, deep down, Lamb was only pretending to be a lamb and was really a wolf in lambswool. Someone who genuinely is worthless... Orso, from the blurb, seems to fit the bill, given that Leo’s been hoping for help there.
“Then an owl ate the lamb.” Bayaz with Orso. Owls are symbolized as knowledge and Bayaz’s being the First of the Magi, feels right for that... and given that Orso is part of the royal family and how Bayaz “ate” Jezal, I can’t say him repeating it with Orso is implausible. My only worry is, how will this be new from Bayaz and Jezal’s deal?
PART I
Chapter One: Blessings and Curses
Chapter Two: Where the Fight’s Hottest
Chapter Three: Guilt Is a Luxury
Chapter Four: Keeping Score
Chapter Five: A Little Public Hanging
Chapter Six: The Breakers
Chapter Seven: The Answer to Your Tears
Chapter Eight: Young Heroes
Chapter Nine: The Moment
#a little hatred#a little hatred spoilers#the age of madness#the first law#joe abercrombie#rikke#a little hatred part I
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Caught Red-Handed
Pairing: Finn Balor/Demon King Balor/Angeline (OC)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Dom/Sub interactions, DaddyKink, Oral, Orgasm Denial, Threesome? (Does it count as a threesome if two of the participants share a body? I feel like this should come up more often when it comes to Finn) SO. MUCH. FLITH
Author's Note: So I got hooked on ASMR. Specifically smutty ASMR. My favorite (performer?) is a guy with an Irish accent that always brings a certain wrestler to mind and so this was born.
Taglist: @tacoshu @ladytea19 @nerdlife0612 @wwevampireamongkpop @winged-time-criminal @blondekel77 @kayah16 @finnsauroraborealis @savemeroman @gold--gucciempress @littledeadrottinghood @evilangel84 @buttons-beads-lace @deepdisireslonging @mohawkmama
Angel's POV
"Acushla?" Finn's voice permeates the hazy fog of sleep I'm lost in.
"Mm?" I try to answer him but Seth had a party in his hotel suite last night so I'm tired and my head is absolutely fucking killing me.
"I have that radio show interview and a signing, then i'll be back Mo Chroi" I hear him say
"Mm" I try to make a affirmative sound
My side of the bed dips and the covers are pulled from off my head letting in the bright morning sunlight, I blink a few times and try to focus on the beautiful man leaning over me.
"Hungover darling?"
"I am never letting Dean make my drinks ever again" I reply
Finn laughed lowly "A lesson we've all learned, love"
"Is THAT why no one else drank Dean's punch?! It doesn't even taste like it has that much booze in it!"
"I don't know what Ambrose puts in that magic potion of his but its all alcoholic" Finn tells her
"Oh" I murmur already planning out how I'm going to kick Seth's ass. I'd drank Dean's concoction on his suggestion but apparently I'd been pranked.
"You need to eat something, take a shower and rest. You don't have any press today?"
I ran through my schedule in my head. "Nope. I did the last round so its Becks turn."
"Good. Eat, shower and rest." he says kissing me on the forehead "If you take care of yourself like a good girl you'll get a treat when I get back. Normal rules are still in effect. No touching that sweet little cunt while Daddy is away."
Finn's POV
The interview went off without a hitch, and I'd done my job of talking up this weekend's PPV. The signing however? That was a fucking mess. There had been a mix up with the venue's security and we'd had to cancel. So here I was back at the hotel irritated at disappointing the fans who'd come out to see me, but happy to be headed back to Angel hours earlier then I'd planned.
I get to our hotel room and open the door only to be completely shocked at the sight before me. Angel, naked except for one of my button down shirts laying on the bed in front of her laptop with a toy buried deep inside of her.
"What is this?" I say louder then I'd intended
"Daddy?!" She says sitting up abruptly "Your early!"
"The signing was a dead loss, I was going to surprise you but I'm the one who got the surprise…Is that…one of my matches? And Toys? What happened to being a good girl for Daddy?"
I hear her mutter something "What was that? Speak up." I demanded
"I got turned on watching you" she says louder, blushing from what I assumed was a mixture of arousal and embarrassment
"You are a VERY naughty girl and you are in SO much trouble" I say walking towards the bed pulling off my suit jacket and loosening my tie.
Angel's POV
Well shit. I think to myself as I watch Finn walk toward me. I’m fucked aren’t I? And from the red and black stains crawling their way across his skin as he unbuttons his shirt…not only was I in trouble, I was in trouble with both my Daddy and my King.
“Oh my Angeal was a naughty, naughty lass wasn’t she?” That dark, velvety voice that was Finn’s and not Finn’s asked me.
“Yes, My King” I answer hesitantly
Balor clicks his tongue like a scolding parent “My dear Angeline. Whatever will my host and I do with such a naughty little girl?”
Balor's POV
The host and I didn't agree on much, I personally didn't understand why he didn't just let me out to destroy all these peons who dared to disrespect us, but since we'd come to America the host insisted on doing things 'fair and square' and would only ever let me out under extreme duress. I longed for the days when my host had thought of himself as royalty and we worked together to obliterate anyone who dared to oppose us.
The only thing good about our current surroundings was the one thing on which we did agree. Our Mate. Our beautiful Angeline, with her milk chocolate skin on, curly black hair and pretty brown eyes was a warrior in her own right and the only woman we'd deemed worthy to be our Queen since we'd shared this form.
Speaking of our Queen, she'd been a very bad girl and that just wouldn't do at all.
"How are we to punish you?" I ask her, enjoying the mix of emotions drifting across her face
Finn's POV
I strip down, walk over to the bed and take Angel's laptop, glancing at the screen and seeing it paused on myself, wearing Balor's warpaint before I place it on the desk out of the way.
"Look at you, all flushed and trembling, did I interrupt you before you could come?" I ask her
"Yes Daddy" she tells me.
"Well at least there's that. Maybe I should just make you go take a cold shower to cool off. After all you disobeyed me."
"Hmm, or maybe…you wanted to try edging didn't you my Angel?"
Angel's POV
Holy fucking shit. Edging was something we'd talked about trying but now? As a punishment? With both of them?
Yes, Daddy" the words slip out of my mouth before I can even wrap my head around the gravity of my situation
I watch as my Daddy., I could tell from his movements that this was Finn, but from the ever shifting red and black coating his skin I could tell My King wasn't far from the surface.
Finn climbs on the bed with me and gently walks his fingers up my legs toward my pussy.
You know you aren't allowed to dip into Daddy's pleasure when he's not around" he says, skimming a finger along my damp slit
"Look at this, all this wet, slick heat and it's not even for me is it?"
Well, I guess technically it was since I'd been getting off on one of their matches but I doubted that would be a sufficient answer for them.
"Shhhh don't speak right now." He says before I can answer him
He picks up the vibrator I had just been using and rubbed it along the same path his fingers had just took stopping at the top of my slit to press it against my clit before flicking it on causing me to let out a loud moan.
"You were soooo close when I interruptted your fun. Sooo close to coming all over this toy. But now you're not going to…so don't you dare come Angel. Not until Daddy says so."
"My Angeal just isn't living up to her name today, is she?" My King asks me
"No My King" I answer as I start to writhe on the bed, I had been so fucking close when Finn had surprised me and now my whole body was tingling with the need for orgasm
"We have the rest of the day, I could just tease and tease and tease you for hours." my Daddy says
Shit, I both loved and hated when they decided to keep switching on me. Finn and Balor were both dangerous in their own right…but when they worked together? They were lethal to my senses.
He, and at this point I wasn't exactly clear on who was in control, moved the vibe away from my pussy and buried his face between my legs.
"You taste so fucking good. So fucking sweet. Now this. This is for me, it's for us. Isn't it my Queen?"
Well fuck, I should have known. I thought as pleasure overwhelmed me. It was Balor. Balor loved eating pussy for some reason, even more than Finn.
"Don't even think about coming" he growled against my clit before sucking it into his mouth.
"Fuck!" I cried out "My King, my King. I can't." I babbled, he had to be kidding right? He was doing the exact thing that NEVER failed to make me go off like fireworks and I WASN'T allowed to come?
With one last nibbling suck, he sat up to look at me. It was definitely my King in full control now, Finn's gorgeous blue eyes were rimmed in red and black and Balor's markings were fully realized on his skin in a way no artist could duplicate.
"Do you need something to distract you?" he asks me.
When I nodded he flipped our positions so that I was draped over him with his beautiful, thick cock at my mouth and, my pussy over his face.
"Suck my cock, Angeal" he demanded before thrusting his abnormally long tongue into my pussy.
I licked at the precome beading the head of his cock, as always marvelling at the changes Balor wrought in Finn's body. He even tasted different then Finn did.
"I'm doing the teasing here not you, My Queen" Balor's voice brought me back from where I'd drifted off.
"AHHH, yesss," I hear him hiss "Now you're being a good little girl, that's it my Queen, suck my cock deep, while I eat this delicious cunt."
His words of praise send even more jolts of pleasure through my body, as he continues to wreck me.
"My perfect Queen, my perfect mate. Someone worthy of my status." I hear him growl against me.
His words cause another moan to vibrate around his cock. It was amazing to me that this was my life. That both these perfect beings, The Demon and the man agreed that I was absolutely perfect for both of them.
"When I come, my Queen you are going to swallow my seed, then and only then can you come."
With that command ringing in my ears I got serious about sucking his cock swirling my tongue around the head before sucking him to the back of my throat.
"That's it my good girl suck me down. Make your King come for you so you can come for him."
I redouble my efforts at those words, sucking him right down to the base causing him to let out a gasping moan before his hot cum filled my mouth and I swallowed every last drop.
At that moment two long fingers filled my soaking wet pussy hooking to hit my G-spot dead on "Such a good little Queen making me come for you. Now you are going to cum for me"
With those words, I exploded in pleasure with a scream hoping that none of our Co workers were in the ajoining rooms
Still breathing heavy I let Balor move me like a boneless doll until I was cuddled in his arms, tracing the patterns on his skin as they faded leaving only Finn's perfectly tanned skin behind.
"Rest, Mo Chroi" I could hear him say as I drifted off "When you wake. It's my turn."
108 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fire Emblem Three Houses Review: A Great Game Crippled By Squandered Potential
Now that the clickbait title has grabbed ur dick and engaged the hate boner it’s time to sit down and take a look at the newly released Fire Emblem game everyone loves (including me, to an extent, despite what the title says.)
I’ll put the whole thing under a readmore to safeguard from spoilers, save dashboards and for anyone who doesn’t give a shit to just stop reading now at a convenient point. As for mobile users, fuck you, I’m a phone hating old man. Read this on an Apple Refrigerator or die.
The TL:DR version is: Game good overall, but not enough variety and near lazy repetition makes both gameplay and story feel a bit disappointing overall once you play all the routes.
Also you can’t fuck Rodrigue so 0/10 worst game in the series.
Right now I’ll address the good points about the game since I do in fact have heaps of praises to sing it’s just easier to clickbait with negativity of which I do have but the positive bits come first cos I said so.
The gameplay is good Fire Emblem, unlike SoV which was ass don’t @ me, as the kids say. Aside from fog of war and a very occasional desert map there’s not too much unpleasant shit and there’s not really any spam which is great since the past few games were getting guilty of that. The maps are a bit plain in layout but they’re not bad either and the enemy placements, choices, map features and terrain are all nicely put together to make a fairly pleasant experience with each one. There are no desert fort maps surrounded by 5 range archers on all sides. There are no cantors spamming infinite terrors or infinitely spawning faceless reinforcements. The weapon triangle might be absent but the breaker skills have been retooled and brought back to allow you to choose if you feel like opting into it or not on your own end. It allows alot of units and weapons to shine and combined with the class freedom the game gives to allow you the wiggle room to make your own playstyle, so if an entire army of Wyvern Lords if your thing then the game is nothing short of an enabler there. Combat Arts are back and nicely well balanced and feel more useful than in SoV, not to mention gambits being a natural expansion on them, Battalions being a positive this game brings to up the scale of warfare rather than it just being Anime Teens VS The World and adds another combat art not tied to a weapon and nice stat boosts and effects to change how you interact with enemies, such as using Assembly to drag a boss off a heal tile, and so forth. The more options the better, and the game is full of freedoms for you to play around with.
Garreg Mach Monastery is where most of the game takes place and where a good chunk of hours are spent. Being able to train weapon and movement type ranks outside of battle is also great and adds more micromanaging onto a series about alot of micromanaging and helps units keep up with each other, as well as letting you farm your own resources, bond with the gang and do little activities to give you some reprieve between fights. You can tell Koei Tecmo did alot of work on the development of Three Houses since this section of the game reminds me of Dynasty Warriors when you go back to your base and sort things out there and wander around. It also breathes some life into the setting and gives a good sense of permanence to the world and its’ characters.
The world of Fodlan is also a major strong point, there’s lore, backstory, history, politics, a culture and even clashes and divides. It’s the most well realised world in a Fire Emblem game since Jugdral which it clearly has drawn inspiration from and I cannot praise Fodlan enough for being as well realised as a setting as it is, since the characters and exposition really give you a proper impression of how this world functions on social and political levels. The school setting of Garreg Mach is one I was initially iffy about but it fits surprisingly well and definitely grows on you over time since the game does a good job of immersing you in the role of a teacher.
Tying into the world is also Crests, which, when combined with the Ability system, is great, making you pay attention to your characters crests, what they do, how they can benefit you, how you could use them, and to pay attention to enemy bosses and minibosses to see what crests they have, and in turn, pay attention to abilities some more too, to both create your ideal units, and keep an eye out for the same on the enemy team. It’s quite well balanced overall and is a sneaky hint of a possible Genealogy remake on the way someday.
The characters are also wonderful, often three dimensional with their own political views, own social perspectives, quirks, oddities, backstories, character conflicts, relationships, and of course, boatloads of trauma. Watching them all interact with each other and reacting to the story events and getting to know them was an excellent experience in proper character writing and interactions that the series has been starved of thanks to the very hit or miss (mostly miss) characterisation from Fates. The main lords are also incredible, from Edelgard and her dark as fuck backstory and her powerful resolve and willingness to do whatever it takes to achieve her wider scale goals, to Dimitri and his intensely personal conflicts and emotional baggage and his journey of highs and lows, to Claude and his boundless charisma and similarly his own ambitions and dreams all wrapped together in a charming package. The characters are all great and I can’t really find myself with any grievances about them that don’t boil down to wanking off over nitpicks over Hubert’s left testicle being out of place in a cutscene or something daft like that.
The soundtrack is good. Not my favourite one but as always with Fire Emblem it’s good and makes the maps more fun since you can listen to a nice tune while thinking about how to murk the pair of armour knights. My only gripe really is the normal versions of songs all sound better than the in-battle variations they get. I also like that a boss theme or miniboss theme will continue to keep playing on the map itself until you beat that character, so you dont have to dip and dive into chip damaging Lyon to hear The Prince’s Despair anymore.
The overall story is fairly decent, not as bad as Fates’ writing, or the fairly bland writing of some of the past games like Awakening that play it too safe. It’s willing to go in dark directions and focus in worldbuilding with its’ plot. However I do have alot of negatives to say about it by contrast but know that the overall story of the game and its’ many routes is one that I don’t hate, but I certainly feel wasn’t as well handled, especially in the second part of the game, as it should be. On an individual level, each route is decently well paced, aside from Edelgard’s route which is mysteriously 4 chapters shorter than the rest for no discernable reason at present until developer interviews shed light on that. The plot is for the most part decently well executed on an individual level.
Now I’m going to insert a very important opinion of mine. I think a game can have a bad story, or no story at all, and still be great, so long as the gameplay is good, because gameplay is what makes a video game a video game, rather than just a dvd with an interactive menu. A game can have a great story, but if the gameplay is shit, the game suffers as a result, and it needs to play its’ focuses very well in order to redeem that. I try not to put as much important on story if I can’t help it, since I’m playing games for the game part first and foremost.
I bring that up because unlike Fates, where you can ignore the plot and have a good time with it, Three Houses isn’t so merciful, due to how much raw time is spent in cutscenes before, during and after battles, as well as engaging with the story at the monastery too, alot of time in Three Houses is not spent in the gameplay portion, but interacting with the story instead, so I have to place importance on the story because the game is, so I have to put more focus than I usually do on it because the game does by necessity of raw amount of time. Otherwise I honestly wouldn’t mind either way if the story was bad or good.
This is to transition over to the negatives.
For the bits where I’m not tying the gameplay and story together for reasons seen in a bit, understand that I was wary about the removal of the weapon triangle. While I don’t mind how it’s been handled, I still think the game is missing something for not having it since the beginning, and it’s definitely a core aspect I enjoy about the series, since now you can forgo unit variety and planning weapon level ups and just use whatever to win, and that level of freedom can hamper strategy in thinking on a more necessity based level, which in turn has subtle but noticeable effects on difficulty.
The amount of time you spend not doing maps is honestly still jarring. Most of the time in these games if you’re ever spending lots of time between maps, it’s usually to get through a mountain of supports you forgot about, rather than spending alot of your time in cutscenes and doing stuff in a monastery. While I don’t hate it, I find alot of my time is spent not doing the Fire Emblem parts of the Fire Emblem game I’m playing and considering the fact that each route is 18-22 chapters long, compared to most FE games which go more than that typically, and you come to realise that the other stuff is sort of padding to distract from the low chapter count overall.
Now this is where I tie gameplay and story together in terms of the more major flaws to the game and what really held it back for me.
Three Houses has 4 routes, all of which I’ve played; Edelgard’s route, Dimitri’s route, Claude’s route, and the Church route. The big problem here in both story and gameplay is the raw amount of repetition and lack of variation the game has with this. Unlike Fates, where the three routes all featured both unique maps, variations on maps, or if they did share maps, usually put them at different stages in the game, Three Houses doesn’t do that at all. Map variety is something this game is weak in, since paralogues just reuse story maps, and so far, only 2 or 3 maps seem exclusive to paralogues, and even then can be repeated by other paralogues. Worse still, earlier paralogues, like Ingrid and Dorothea’s, can spoil maps later on, and don’t even make sense when you get the context for that location. In every other past FE game, the paralogues all got their own maps. Repeating maps in a single run is already a risky business, but then there’s overall repetition. The first part of the game is exactly the same on all routes, it follows the same story and overall beats, an the only variation is chapter 12, if you’re playing Edelgard’s route, if not, it’s the same for the other 3. And for context, I did Edelgard first, Dimitri second, Claude third and Church last. In hindsight, that was a terrible order, since I basically ended up repeating myself 3 times in a row thinking I was getting something different. When the timeskip hits you expect each route to get different, but only Edelgard’s does. the other 3 routes are all about fighting the Adrestian Empire to save Rhea. That’s it. Dimitri, Claude and the Church routes all follow the same story, and by extension, maps, making you do them all in the same order as each other, with a minor variation here or there like Dimiri getting a chapter to retake Fhirdiad then resuming the static map path. The only difference is in the plot contrivances that don’t come up on the other routes despite following the exact same events to steer you towards a different final boss. Those Who Slither In the Dark are a great example of this. They destroy Fort Merceus only in Claude’s route, and for no reason are barely involved in the fights of the other routes and are never dealt with. They themselves are also wasted villains, with Kronya and Solon shown off once, then killed off in their second appearances, then Thales barely being in the game only to die in Claude’s route. The game sort of forgets about them in the other routes, and, insultingly, they’re fought by Edlegard in her route, but only in the epilogue, rather than having her missing 4 chapters cover that conflict.
Really, the only point to playing a route is to get a different final boss, and to get some different lore in the final chapter. You only learn about Nemesis right at the end of Claude’s route, you only learn Byleth’s origin story at the end of the Church route. Outside of things like that, you’re just playing the same game, same maps, and same story but with different playable characters over and over again with no real variety until right at the very end, which is highly hollow. Edelgard’s route offers the most variation on all this, and yet it’s 4 chapters shorter than the other routes, so you’re either condemned to play the same shit over again, or you barely get any time with the one that’s a bit different. It really sucks since the map variety really is nonexistent. You play the exact same game for 12 chapters, think you’re getting some variety, then just get the same shit as the last run, or, only get a few maps and then you’re done. Either way, the sheer lack of variety in maps and accompanying story really makes the hyped up timeskip feel like a colossal disappointment in hindsight, and when Fates, a 3DS game, has more map and story variety (yes even if that story was awful) than a home console game, then something is deeply flawed about this game.
The pacing is also fairly bad if not close to terrible. At most the game is 22-23 chapters at the most, 18 at the least, and it spends 12 of these on the Academy phase of the game. The game drags its’ feet with the story for the first half, slow burning its’ way along, feeding you hints of lore to come and setting things up and, to be honest, doing a good job at worldbuilding. Then the timeskip happens and the war phase just rushes by at one hell of a fast pace. The maps being the same across them doesn’t help, but pacing can also damage the routes. For example, Verdant Wind builds up to fighting the Agarthans, it builds up to them but only with hints and setup while you’re busy fighting Edelgard, and then once’s that’s done, you have two chapters left, one of which has you fight the Agarthans in one map, beat them, and then have the final battle with Nemesis, which, while the map itself is arguably the best of the 4 and really feels like a final battle, story-wise comes out of fuckin nowhere just to have a cool end to the game. And then there’s Crimson flower, which steamrolls through the game and is definitely missing chapters, with key events like the battle at Gronder just not being there at all. In general the story pacing is just too wonky and every route really needed more chapters to flesh out the conflicts rather than rushing along the most engaging bits of the game.
Also the graphics are kind of weird looking for a 2019 game and some of the cutscenes are animated so stiffly it’s strange to watch. Honestly the visual presentation in Fire Emblem has never really been very good outside of fully rendered cutscenes in previous games like Awakening or Radiant Dawn, but it’s a shame the Switch’s capabilities weren’t fully utilised, especially with some textures, although Warriors with its’ JPEG stone floor in Hoshido Castle is no doubt to blame as well for that influence. That said, it’s not all that big of an issue for this series, and you really don’t notice it as much, just felt the need to address it since it is there and the Switch launched with Breath of the Wild which looks wonderful and then there’s Three Houses looking like it just got out of bed by comparison.
My main issues with the game stem mostly from the larger segment above, the constant repetition of maps in almost perfect order after each other, the exact same story playing out for the majority of what should be different routes, and the school phase being the most repetitive as well really dragging the game down. The first time I played the game I loved it, no doubt, but the subsequent runs made me realise that alot less overall variety was put into the game than I thought would be, and that hurts the quality for me, to know that 3/4 options have me doing 95% the same thing but with different units, and the other option is just a bit too short to be able to fully enjoy what it has to offer. Fire Emblem is a bigger name now than it used to be, and Three Houses honestly deserved to be a bit better than this overall.
Also you can’t fuck Felix’s dad so what’s even the point of it all, really.
I have no doubts though that people will still love this game, and rightfully so, it’s a great entry in the series, just not the best. I’m sure people who’ve only done one or two routes will think it’s fantastic, but once you do all four of them, I think the honeymoon period will pass by, and the initial spark of excitement of a new game will wear off, and just like how everyone tore into Fates a year after release, I think Three Houses might end up suffering a slightly similar fate as well once people realise that the game really doesn’t offer as much variety as it seemed to be offering. Maybe there are people who don’t mind all the repetition and the sameyness of it all, but for me, it held the game back from being truly great. The Lords are what really carry their respective routes, due to their character strengths, and a certain route definitely suffers for only having Byleth (and Seteth of all people) as the main driving force of that route.
All that said, I really recommend any Fire Emblem fan or even any Switch owner to play Three Houses. It’s not perfect, and it certainly loses it’s magic over time and really needs some reworking in places and major injections of variety, or a really good DLC, but it’s still definitely got plenty of good quality to enjoy and the bits that are good are really good and worth sticking through each route to be able to play with.
The score this game gets is a
Forever Pissed I Can’t Marry Rodrigue/10
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Triple Trouble 2 (DAI AU)
A/N: follows directly from this post. READ THE TAGS because I’m not using usernames from this point on, only nicknames. Still tagging @uru-viel an @lucide-dreamer-dreams and @neverending-shenanigans just for funsies.
In very short order it was established that Mews was the oldest (”I am thirty years old, I don’t care if I woke up last that does not make me the goddamn youngest!”) and they were all seriously, completely fucked.
“I really don’t want to lose an arm,” Lucy said, staring at her glowing hand.
“I don’t think that’s our most immediate problem,” Shen pointed out.
“Losing an arm is a pretty big-”
“Um, hi!” Shen said brightly, waving at the two women standing in the doorway.
Lucy spun so quickly she fell on her ass. “Oh fuck,” she said when she saw what had to be Leliana and Cassandra, the left and right hands of the recently-deceased Divine.
“That’s my line,” Mews muttered.
The game devs hadn’t done either of the women justice. Leliana had a downright angelic face and her hair positively glowed in the flickering torchlight. Cassandra was a good six inches taller than the other woman, with steely grey eyes and a full-lipped mouth twisted into a perpetual sneer by the scar that angled down from her cheekbone.
“Oh fuck,” Lucy said again, this time in an entirely different tone.
“Keep it in your pants,” Mews advised. “They don’t look too friendly.”
“Maybe because we’re speaking a language they don’t know?” Shen pointed out. So saying, she immediately switched to Trade: “Hello, could you please tell us what’s going on?”
“You claim not to know?” Cassandra demanded, stalking forward.
“The last thing I remember was...” Mews trailed off and switched to English, turning to her two companions: “Booting up the game?”
“Booting up the game,” they both agreed, nearly in unison.
“I remember a woman,” Mews said shakily, voice cracking as she stifled a hysterical giggle. “There was a green light and...things. Things chasing me.”
“I remember the woman,” Lucy said slowly, and the distant look on her face combined with her panicked glance at Mews made the latter almost certain she wasn’t lying.
“I think the things were spiders,” Shen said, shuddering.
“A woman?” Leliana murmured, eyes flicking between all three near-identical faces. “And spiders, hmm? How interesting.”
“What did happen?” Shen asked after a brief and uncomfortable silence.
“Perhaps we should show you,” Leliana said.
“Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take them.”
“All three?”
“We may require it,” Cassandra confirmed, grim as death.
The redhead nodded and slipped from the room.
“You still haven’t said what happened,” Mews pointed out.
“It will be easier to show you.”
They kept quiet while the warrior slipped the chains from the pole, leaving their hands bound together but no longer tethered to the center of the room. Shen caught Mews’ eyes and gestured towards Lucy, whose eyes were firmly planted on Cassandra’s swaying hips as they followed her through the creepy basement to the hall and out into the sunlight.
“She’s straight,” Mews hissed out the side of her mouth.
“I know,” Lucy said mournfully. “I’m just looking!”
“Look up,” Shen instructed in a wobbly voice.
The sky was a nightmare writ large. It looked broken in a way that was difficult to put into words. It looked like a thousand things pulled from the uncanny valley. It looked like a cracked window into a basement, like fractured ice over a deep lake, like heavy fog in an unfamiliar place, like flickers at the corner of your eye, like the feeling of someone watching you, like missing a step at the bottom of a staircase. It was jarring and unearthly and it bypassed the eyes and reached directly towards the hindbrain singing a discordant song of wrong, wrong, wrong.
Mews had to swallow hard to keep from gagging. Lucy dropped to her knees, legs gone numb. Shen swayed and might have fallen if Cassandra had not grabbed her arm and levered her up.
“It’s like-” Lucy gestured wordlessly, face scrunched up.
“Worlds of nope, fucking galaxies of nope,” Mews muttered in English.
“We can fix this,” Shen said. They had to fix this. They were the only ones who could, apparently. She nodded at Cassandra to show that she could stand on her own again. “We will help you, however we can.”
Haven was crowded, smelly, and full of people glaring at them. They were all very happy to be shot of it. The walk from the first bridge to the second took significantly longer than any of them expected, and the Breach expanded twice in that time. Both instances sent all three elves to their knees. The second time, Mews and Lucy vomited from the pain and shock.
“The pulses are coming faster,” Cassandra said, helping Shen grab handfuls of clean snow for the other two to wash out their mouths with. “We need to move more quickly.”
The second bridge was already destroyed by the time they got there and demons were pacing around the shattered remains.
“We must get past them, this is the only way,” Cassandra said, clearly unhappy with the options available to her. She gestured to a few boxes of supplies on their side of the broken bridge. “There are weapons there, you may arm yourselves. Know this - I am Templar trained and should you turn on me, I will not be merciful.”
“Noted,” Mews said.
“I would never!” Lucy cried.
“Understandable,” Shen responded with a brief nod.
The trio exchanged glances as they slowly moved towards the boxes.
“What are we specced as?” Mews whispered. “I mean, I always play as a mage but I don’t really feel too...different?”
“Aside from shorter?” Shen asked, tongue planted firmly in cheek.
“Aside from shorter,” she agreed, scowling.
“I think I’m a mage,” Lucy said, grabbing a staff and turning it this way and that. She tapped it gently against Mews’ forehead, whispering, “Protec,” and grinned when a shimmering teal bubble briefly flickered into view around her.
Mews rolled her eyes and grabbed a staff as well, angling it towards one of the Shades circling the frozen riverbed. “Attack,” she muttered, and jumped when ice suddenly spiked up through the demon, impaling it. “Holy shit!”
“Hey, don’t leave me out!” Shen took her own staff and aggressively stabbed towards a different Shade, grinning when a ball of fire the size of a man’s head flew from the end, exploding when it impacted the demon. “This is wicked,” she breathed, beaming.
“A little warning next time,” Cassandra said dourly before sliding down the incline and engaging with the half-frozen demon.
“Three mages, no waiting,” Lucy said. “Little lame that I don’t have any attacks, though. You guys get fire and ice and I’m spirit?”
“Try attacking,” Mews said.
Lucy pointed her staff at the scorched Shade and nearly dropped it when lightning burst from the sky, sizzling the demon into a puddle of blackish goop. “Storm and spirit!” she crowed. “This is awesome!”
Shen frowned thoughtfully, “You know, I think-”
“Way ahead of you,” Mews said, and hurled some lightning of her own.
“We’re all storm,” Shen confirmed, waving her glowing hand at the other two. “Look at the light. Mine is fire and lightning.”
“I must be ice and lightning,” Mews guessed, poking at the green gash.
“Stop that,” Lucy said, slapping her hand away. “You’ll go blind.”
“Oh har dee har. Is this really the time?”
“We’re about to go risk our lives to save a universe that didn’t exist outside pixels a few hours ago. Yeah, I think it’s the time.”
They picked their way down the incline carefully to where Cassandra was waiting. “You are effective,” she said, her tone making it difficult to say whether it was a compliment or potential proof of their assumed crimes. “Come, we must move faster. They are waiting.”
#triple trouble au#amuse writes stuff#dragon age inquisition#modern girl in thedas#self-insert#sort of but transitioning to original characters pretty damn quick#lucy is real thirsty for cass#mews is an anxious mess but also the talker#shen is the voice of reason right now#don't worry they'll trade depending on circumstances#also if i post this to ao3 i will open voting for pairings because#THIS IS THE LIE BACK AND THINK OF THEDAS AU#so the READERS get to choose which of us is most effectively gonna woo Solas#yeah i'm going there#MAYBE ONE OF US WILL GENUINELY WIN HIS WOLFY HEART#doubt
18 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
risemaclay
RM
dreamvkations
Travel Choices Made Simple
freelancingcourse5
Freelancing Course
helterskeletors
gooch