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jacepens · 3 years

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Hi I see that you're taking requests so if you're not too busy, I got something for you: do you remember the Assassin's Creed thing that Tyranny of King Washington game? Yeah, so a tyrant King George Washington AU but also involving Lafayette as like a French prince or something who is placed in an arranged marriage with George?? And like Lafayette is slowly goes corrupt like his husband and they're soon like this completely sexy evil power couple kinda deal?? Thank you!

Anon how dare you know my heart so well!! I recently played Assassins Creed III and the Tyranny of King Washington. I don’t know if you know the story behind it, because this is definitely based off the game but hooo boy this is incredible. Thank you so so much for giving me an excuse to rant about this. Because oh my god I adored playing Tyranny. (And making fun of King Washington.)

Real quick: for those who don’t know the game (which might also be you anon, I don't know) the reason that in the Tyranny of King Washington, Washington goes absolutely insane with power, is because he’s got an Apple of Eden which is an Assassin’s Creed thing that’s basically an old godly relic that is extremely manipulative and powerful. But anyway, here is your little story that I had way too much fun with :)

EDIT: I just added a few morbid details to some of the things Lafayette asked for because I felt they were quite important to see. So you know, if you read this before you saw those details, I’d recommend you at least glance at it again;). EDIT 2: ok ok sorry to be so indecisive but there is now just a dash more sexy at the very end.

Spoiled Rotten to the Core

A burst of golden light was all it took to bring men to their knees. Was all it took to conjure visions, control minds, bring entire countries to their knees.

King Washington. The name alone made anger rise hot in his chest, made him remember and grieve all the things that name stole from him.

Being Prince of France in a war-shaken world made everything he’d ever dealt with before feel like nothing.

No one was powerful enough to stop him. Hundreds, thousands, tried and they all ended up in the same place. Six feet underground—if they were lucky, that is. He’d read it was quite common for decaying bodies to be left strewn about the American countryside with no respect for life or death. It was despicable.

But then, King Washington made Lafayette an offer he would be a fool to refuse.

Famine, war, destruction, plague—it all weighed heavy on Lafayette’s mind. He had done everything he could to secure his country alongside his father, the King. They were one of the few countries still standing that had not fallen to the plague of America, and they were one of the world’s last beacons of hope.

King Washington, who seemed to live on another plane of existence entirely, descended upon their country with fury and destruction in his eye.

Lafayette hunkered down, sobbing and waiting for the worst to be over knowing that they were done—they were finished!

Miraculously, they were still standing at days end.

And then King Washington promised his country could continue to thrive and be sovereign and independent from America—all he had to do was marry him.

Before Lafayette was able to make the choice for himself, his father was already throwing him on a boat and carting him off to the capital of Washington’s new world. New York City.

Washington’s palace was a grand threat looming over the shore. And Lafayette’s heart was caught in his throat.

When the boat docked, the area became flooded with eager people, so tightly packed together nothing could break through.

Lafayette was paraded through the city like a prize. Their new King! They cried, weeping tears of joy, but Lafayette wondered if those tears were not of joy but of sorrow.

Lafayette was granted permission inside that grand structure they called the palace with a blindfold over his eyes. It was yanked off once he was inside and he was allowed to gawp at the sheer opulence and magnificence of the interior. The exterior may have looked like a threatening symbol, but inside? Why it made Lafayette’s heart soar in a very particular way. A way that his heart craved to feel again.

Meeting King Washington was a strange experience. Just like the feeling he got in the palace, he felt the same way about Washington. Cool, stoic, and wearing decadent clothes only worthy of a King.

He gripped his scepter that brimmed with power, and Lafayette was drawn towards it. He craved that gentle golden light that King Washington possessed, craved the power he gained. Worst of all, he craved Washington.

When he gripped his chin and stared into his eyes, as if he was inspecting a piece of fine china, Lafayette felt an unfamiliar sensation shudder through him. Would he disappoint? Washington left without a single word being said, and Lafayette felt traitorously like he wanted to scream and demand he come back that instant.

He was laid to rest in the comfiest of beds and surrounded by the hundreds of beautiful things that had caught King Washington’s interest over his years as ruler.

Was that all Lafayette was to him? He wondered with growing sickness. A beautiful Prince that happened to gain his interest? Interest already so quickly moved on.

Their wedding was lavish and a display of pure opulence. Lafayette was gifted a grand new ensemble to get married in, and dozens of new outfits to show his station as King. King Lafayette.

A crown was placed upon his head and the crowd chanted his name, thousands of people from below. Lafayette was overcome with adoration for the people below, and the way he understood he could now control them.

He laid in bed with Washington that night, unused to seeing him in such an informal air. The only thing exchanged was a few kisses before Washington suddenly screamed and shouted that he needed to leave at once. He saw that possessive glimmer in his eye, all for that damn scepter, and Lafayette left him to go back to his own room.

He was disappointed to say the least.

As months with Washington wore on, Lafayette understood more and more that he really was there to serve as some sort of pretty pet. But one that Washington readily spoiled.

All it took was Lafayette pressing a few kisses to his lips, and whatever he wished for was his.

He wished for many things as the boredom grew. He wished for paintings and artifacts from across the world, new animals to be displayed in the zoo, and even a little poodle to try and take the loneliness away. As his boredom and curiosity grew, he began demanding more unique experiences. What possessed him to do so, he wasn’t sure. When he asked George for a traitor to slaughter, so he could revel in the sight of their sickly blood slowly draining out them by Lafayette’s almighty sword. When he asked, begged, pleaded if he might throw them in the tigers den just to see what might happen. The angry thought burned in his heart—it was what traitors to King Washington deserved.

Until it dawned on him heavily one day that there was only one thing in the entire world that could make him happy. Two things, perhaps.

The power, and the one who wielded it.

He smiled as he entered the throne room to see King Washington, quickly turned to look at him, a little smirk dazzling his face. Lafayette quickly set himself down in Washington's lap, as he knew he so enjoyed, and quietly pressed kisses to his cheek and down his neck.

It was strange, the way he enjoyed him. They hardly ever exchanged a word together and yet here Lafayette was, working to earn his affections. His arm encircled around his waist and Lafayette sighed and shifted closer.

“You want something else, don’t you?” Washington purred, suddenly bringing his lips to Lafayette’s neck.

He let out a gasp, “Only your affections, my highness.”

“Ah, but you earned that long ago.”

“Did I really?” Lafayette giggled, pressing his nose to Washington’s, “Because it’s my understanding that husbands who love each other are supposed to share.”

Washington roared, suddenly shoving Lafayette back, but Lafayette held firm to his throne. “You dare.” He hissed, unmistakable anger coursing through him.

“Don’t you see it, my highness?” Lafayette dropped to his knees before him, “you chose me for a reason. Two is better than one, don’t you agree?” He hummed, dragging his palms and digging his fingernails up Washington’s thighs. He continued to fume above him, but Lafayette could practically hear that resolve chipping away, could hear a faint humming his ears. “Ah, do you hear it? Bring it out, show me that golden apple and it will show you just how much you need me.” He whined.

He watched with anticipation, could see it like a shivering line around Washington as he reached and pulled the apple from it’s scepter. Lafayette sat up, trying to press forward, his heart hammering loudly, seconds away from everything he could ever dream of—.

He began weeping as Washington pressed it into his palm, tears rolling down his cheeks as his eyes were opened to the knowledge of the universe. He saw strange men with godly powers crushed by this apple, he witnessed entire galaxies being birthed just with the tap of a finger, he saw the way into every person’s heart, he felt every weakness suddenly overwhelm and consume him before he could begin to breath fresh air again.

King Washington took the apple from his hand, and brought him up into his lap again. Lafayette grinned, a sickly dark and previously unknown grin to his face. His fingertips brimmed with power that he could feel rushing through his veins. He saw the way to destruction, a clear path ahead of him with Washington at his side.

“You are beautiful, you know.” He heard Washington growl in his ear, breath hot.

Lafayette hummed and then leered, mind overflowing with new ideas. “Then allow your beautiful King to show you his gratitude for granting him such a gift.” He purred, sliding back down to his knees.

This world was not yet the last they would conquer.

#prompts #hats off to you if you caught my reference to Connor #ahhh but for real I love love love this idea #like thank you so much #whoever you are mysterious anon #washette #hamilton #sue me but I’m tagging this as hamilton and turn #turn: washington's spies #because Lafayette wasn’t in tyranny it’s fine!!#I don’t need the ac fandom rolling in here wondering what the fuck is going on XD #snippet

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sebastianshaw · 4 years

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RP meme from "Chapter Two: Infesting the World" in The World of Darkness Ratkin Breedbook, Part 1 of 2

"What a lovely sound of broken glass!"

"Hide! Danger! Make yourself small!"

"Something about this guy isn’t right."

"His eyes look a little beady, and he seems to slouch a bit too much."

"Your fingers are bleeding."

"Hey, I got a bottle of Jack Daniels inside the truck, if you need it bad enough."

"You want to sleep here in the alley, that’s fine with me, but I’m supposed to drive you out of here."

"You want to sleep in the back or ride up front?"

"Make yourself comfortable. It’s gonna be a long drive."

"Even from the freeway, the city looks cold and unforgiving."

"Apparently, they love to go on about their delusions."

"Makes you sick, don’t it?"

"Five thousand years of human progress, and look at what they’ve got. Street gangs. Rampant crime. Pollution. Homeless dying on the street."

"That’s what humans do to the world. "

"Take a look up at the top of those skyscrapers. The people in those buildings wear nice clothes, trying to live so far above the people starving on the street."

"The rich folks think they’re safe up there. They’ve built up layers and layers of crap — technology, corporations, wealth and progress — that they think it’ll save them from all the madness around them."

" The humans now act like they own the world, and hunt down anything that threatens their superiority.

"It’s all bass ackwards; everything’s gone to hell."

"The solution seems pretty damn obvious."

"It would be so easy to tear it all down."

"Spread a little disease through ventilation system. . . take out the structural foundation with a little pyrotechnics. . .all that steel and concrete. . .it wouldn’t take much to reduce it to rubble."

"You know, every time I come to the big city, I think the same thing. You know what’s the biggest problem they got here? Overpopulation."

"It’s like something was keeping the world under control, and it’s just not there anymore."

"Too many damn people on the planet."

"Every time I see so many people walking down the street, I think, ‘What would happen if a few of them just. . .disappeared?"

"In the history of the world, would it really make much difference?"

" Too many damn people, that’s what’s wrong with the world. Kill ’em off, that’s what we should do. Damn straight."

"Kill ’em off, that’s what we should do. Damn straight"

"Hey, I got some cheeseburgers under the seat. You hungry?"

"I used be a vegetarian, but those burgers smell. . .um. . . kinda good.”

"The taste is foul."

" Let the driver do most of the talking."

"There isn’t much real wilderness left."

"Those bastards way out in Washington want to regulate everything."

"Phone lines, power lines, barbed wire, television aerials, television transmissions, radio waves — they just keep growing."

"Every aspect of our life is contained, regulated and controlled."

"We’re planning to mete out some country justice."

"I’d better be real polite."

" I’m not asking you to join up with what we’re doing."

" I signed on because I was angry about losing my lands, about losing my rights."

"Everyone’s looking for someone to blame. Some blame the government; some blame the bankers; some blame the Jews, or the blacks, or the environmentalists, or the United Nations."

" Me, I know it’s all just the signs of the Apocalypse."

" There’s no handle on the inside."

"This is all insane."

"He's in mortal danger."

"Suddenly, they don't taste so bad."

" I know it might seem like our family’s a little bit crazy, but you’ve got to widen your perspective a bit."

"Even the world you see outside that window is just part of a bigger picture."

"We’re waiting for reinforcements from another dimension." "There’s a world waiting outside the one you see, a reflection of everything that happens in this one."

"We can step out into a world that isn’t as messed up as this one."

"If you concentrate, you can start to see that other world."

" We’re gonna take a little short cut."

"Everyone’s getting pissed off."

"Don't look at me that way."

" Look, I know it’s all a bit much."

" You think we’re all insane, don’t you?"

"I had it a bit easier I guess."

"Yeah, I see that look on your face."

"You’ve heard the voices too, haven’t you?"

"Did they put you on medication?"

" I kinda like it."

"That’s how our family has stayed together for so long."

" I knew the End Times were coming."

" It’s enough to drive some people mad."

"I’m sure someone’s told you about the struggle, the battle between good and evil."

"After all, what exactly’s at stake?"

" I’m thinkin’ that maybe the “end of the world” will just mean the end of human civilization."

"For me, there’s nothing wrong with that."

"And once the humans have been exterminated, millions of our brothers and sisters are gonna swarm over the world."

" Pure chaos will overwhelm everything that remains."

"You’re family now, and we’ll take care of you."

"Might as well play along, since none of these people can be trusted anyway."

" You look like a mess."

"So much for romance."

"Are you about to tell me the reason you’re buried in this school bus with all these sacks of fertilizer and boxes of ammunition?"

"You can see where I’m going with this, right?"

" Do you know what happens if rats breed more children than their environment will support? They know that we know that when a colony is too big, they can either all die slowly of starvation and disease, or a few of us can die quickly. It’s only logical for us to turn against each other until the balance is restored. Mothers eat their weakest children, and the weakest of the swarm is destroyed for the benefit of all."

" There are too many humans on this planet for the Earth to support. They can all suffer slowly, through disease and starvation, or the weakest should be killed."

"Me? I just pray for the day when the human race dies out."

"Look at you! You’re so scared that your hands are twitching. I can almost feel your muscles tensing from where I’m sitting."

"You look skeptical."

"If you’re quiet enough, you can almost. . . hear. . .the

spirit world."

"Sit still and listen to the blood flowing through your veins."

"Ssssh! Ssssh! Calm down! It’s okay!"

"It takes some practice to get used to your nerves racing like that."

"See, if the stress and anger builds up in you too much, your reason can’t contain the rage building inside you."

" You can help reason win out over rage."

"No more damn lectures."

" No sane man would dare walk down that path, and probably, no one ever has."

" Stop acting like a damn housewife!"

" We need to find you a name."

"First we got to figure out what the hell you are."

" They hold all the clues about who you really are."

" There’s a few lucky ones, though, who never have to be alone."

"I got me a name, and I found it the old fashioned way; I stole it."

"I can tell you’re gonna be one of us, so this’ll be easy."

"Yeah, if a rat lives in filthy conditions with constant danger, he’s gonna act like a feral little beast."

"This is your crash space, and you better remember where it is."

"Around here, we’re all rather informal."

"We all see things differently, but it’s not like we’re going to eat each other because of it."

"I know this is all confusing; It’s because people have been lying to you for so long."

"Human history is built upon lies."

"Bastards. Deceivers. Killers."

"They like to keep it all shiny and new, just to fool themselves."

"Their whole society is built around the nicely packaged, the neatly contained, and the freshly scrubbed."

"Those big square buildings above ground they like so much, they keep them shiny and bright, just to keep from thinking about all the rot and imperfection inside everything."

" Chaos works much faster than corruption."

"That seething rage that lies sleeping within you, that’s chaos."

"Maybe there’s hope, huh?"

“It’s addictive, though. Once you let a little chaos out, you’ll want more."

" If all the human cities go to hell, that doesn’t mean the end of the world."

"It’s a war we’re going to win."

"You better start training now.

"You’re talking about gratuitously ripping and tearing down

anything you feel like."

"You’re talking about messing with people’s shit."

"They’re so cute when they’re small."

#roleplay meme #roleplay memes #roleplay starters #rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #ratkin #world of darkness #my meme #my memes #my starters #out of shirt #okay to reblog

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clownfuckery · 7 years

Text

A Monster for a Mate - Chapter 1

PENNYWISE X OC

Table of Contents (in progress)

Prologue

A/N: Let’s find out a little about our OC, shall we? -----

Reminiscing

May, 2016

So, where does this story begin?

Some would say in September of 1989, when a wounded It went deep into the earth to heal, sleep… and to plot. Some would say it begins when It awoke once more, in the summer of 2015 to feed upon Its game. There are those who say it begins upon my own awakening, nine years prior in the fall of 2008. Others would argue that it begins on the day I met Pennywise the Clown. And then there are those who go off the deep end, who begin to rant about how Pennywise was doomed the moment Its opposing force, some great big Turtle floating in space, choked on a couple of galaxies. But all I know, all I remember, are the ramblings of some madman dressed in a crisp black suit. He spoke as if from far away, spinning a tall tale of how the balance of some cosmic, mythological structure in the blackness behind the universe hung by the guardians of the beams. He talked of how they all needed to come down. It all seemed ludicrous then, but now I know that he spoke as though I would somehow come to play a part in it all. Perhaps his words held no real meaning, perhaps they were simply the disjointed, incoherent, and angry mumbo jumbo of some space lunatic.

But now I know he spoke of It, and the one certainty which came to pass years later. And now, in these short, few months in which I fell under the spell of Pennywise’s guises and floated in the deadlights that danced in his eyes, I grew to understand him. To like him, need him. Love him? Maybe. Yes, maybe that too.

“Shh, there there,” I whisper as I place the small, warm bundle in the nest. A sound that is both a sigh and a chuckle escapes my lips as the bundle stirs and begins to whine, then quiets and goes still. Part of me wants her to wake just so I can look into her eyes and fall in love all over again with those two, shining yellow embers. Instead, my hand reaches out and I smooth back the red wisps of hair that stubbornly stick out around her head.

Just then, the fear strikes me. It is a primeval cold that seeps into my bones and makes me stiff with dread. The fear is not my own, and I cannot truly rationalize it, but it still leaves me paralyzed, and against my nature, I fear my own mortality.

“They’re coming” the voice behind me says. I turn to find Pennywise entering the nest. He collapses in my arms, and I try my best to soothe that fear, that white silver pain that leaves him blind and terrified.

“They can’t kill you” I say, wrapping my entire body around him. “You can be hurt, threatened, cornered. But never killed. You’re the Eternal, the Eater of Worlds”

He shudders, and my embrace tightens.

“Do you hear me?” I say forcefully, pulling back to look him in the face. He nods frantically, trying his best to smile and look composed, but I see the desperation in his eyes. They’re bloodshot, and the black kohl around his eyes is glistening with tears.

“I called for them. I sent them my calling card in blood. And when they get here I will kill them all! I will cast them, shrieking and insane into the deadlights. And then…”

“…we will feast” we say together “and doze for a while”

He presses his lips to mine, and as I taste the sweetness of his mouth, I feel his lips tremble. The words of that man in black come to mind once more, and I can’t help but think that the ka-tet of six who were once seven are agents of that man. Or perhaps… I was.

“The portal must remain open” were the last words he had said before he disappeared into the bustle of Main Street, leaving me stranded in a town I did not know.

So, where does this story begin?

The Opera

October, 2015

Masquerade!  Paper faces on parade  Masquerade!  Hide your face  So the world will never find you… I stood behind the curtain and watched in fascination as the performers followed the choreography to perfection. I looked out to the audience, and my eyes scanned over the throngs of black hoods that lined the aisles, invisible to all, save for me. Instinctively, even after years of having those dark guardians as my constant companions, I still looked around me to see if any had noticed. I caught a glimpse of my costar Michael O’Hare getting into position to burst into the scene at his cue. The makeup artist was adjusting the mask that covered half his face, and he was wrapping the cloak around him in just the right place that would allow him to create the Phantom’s signature swoosh of the cape. I turned back to the stage and watched as another fellow performer, Jeremy Hammell, who stood on stilts and wearing a big ruffled onesie, sprinted to the front of the stage, where he did a tip-toeing number as the rest of the ensemble brought the second act into full gear.

Eye of gold…  Thigh of blue…  True is false…  Who is who?  Curl of lip…  Swirl of gown…  Ace of hearts…  Face of clown…

“Faces… drink it in, drink it up, till you’ve drowned in the light…” I hummed along quietly as I watched him prance around the stage, the exact image of that character from my childhood I held dear. As he finished his small number and retreated to the back he flashed me a wink, and I returned it with a thumbs-up. I knew he would agree, he had no choice in the matter.

“Oh come on Jeremy! Do it for me” I had whined in rehearsals, batting my eyelashes like an exaggerated coquette.

“Fine fine, don’t get your panties in a wad” he said, taking the folded paper which bore the somewhat grainy and low-quality picture I had printed out “what’s the deal with this clown anyway?”

“He was my favorite growing up! You know, my mom even drove five hours just so I could see him at a fair in Buenos Aires. I watched his…”

“You watched his show every freaking day, yeah you told me that. Creepy looking bozo, probably some pedophile or a drunkie. You owe me dinner” he retorted, handing the picture to Gladys, one of the makeup artists.

“You’re the best!” I squealed, kissing him on the cheek and rushing out of the trailer to get fitted.

I was brought back to the present when I felt someone come stand next to me, take my hand, and wrap it around his arm.

“Now look like you really love me” quipped Conor Fontaine, my costar who played Raoul. He was tall and unbelievably handsome. A perfect poster boy with his long blond hair and piercing blue eyes; and yet it was Michael, with his rugged looks and unapologetic humor into whose hotel room I snuck in at night.

“Scarlett, Conor… off you go” signaled the stage master.

“I will never get used to your stage name” Conor laughed and we waltzed back into the scene.

The production had been a roaring success. Thirty cities, one hundred and fifty shows, sold out theaters across the country, Canada, and Mexico. But on that night, on the last show of the Phantom’s North American tour, the energy was electrifying. As much as I was a creature of control and poise, I allowed myself for once to become lost in the magic of it all. The lights, the colors, the rousing music of the orchestra. In my eyes, Michael truly became the Phantom, Conor was Raoul, and Jeremy was Pizarrín, the clown who had delighted my afternoons as a child.

Have you gorged yourself  At last in your lust for blood?  Am I now to be prey  To your lust for flesh?

My voice cracked with rage and horror as I confronted the monster. I could feel more than hear the held breaths from the audience. The throngs of black hoods that lined the aisles however, remained motionless.

I kissed the monster then, and I could feel the prosthetics that covered half of Michael’s face tickle my lip. The kiss was intense, passionate, and as he returned the fervor, I wrapped my hands around his neck. The audience burst into raucous applause. A few moments later, there were tears in the audience and from fellow cast members watching from behind the curtain as I sailed away with another, leaving the monster to crumble in the depths.

The curtain fell.

One by one the cast walked onstage to receive their accolades. When Michael and I walked hand in hand, we received a standing ovation. The cheering and applause were deafening. The black hoods finally raised their heads and at once, they joined in the applause. I blew a kiss, and even though to the eyes of all I was reciprocating the love from the spectators, I was in truth acknowledging my father, who stood just behind the orchestra. From his black cloak he retrieved a single red rose tied with black ribbon, and he tossed it at the stage. It landed at my feet, and I picked it up, took a long whiff of its fragrance and walked backstage.

The curtain fell again.

Daddy Issues

I listened to the sound of Michael breathing. His left arm was wrapped around my waist and his naked body was pressed behind me. His breathing, still shallow and coming in pants, was beginning to slow down and deepen. A minute or two more, and he would be fast asleep.

It was almost a science of sorts. You learn to predict the post-coitus patterns of a man after a few times underneath him. For Michael, I had his pattern down to a tee after Washington D.C. We had begun to sneak into each other’s hotel rooms and dressing rooms at Atlanta. From casting and rehearsals, there had been this energy between us. No, not actor’s chemistry, but an electricity that sparked and crackled the moment we touched hands and began to go through the early stages of learning the choreography. We sang as we rehearsed, and I could feel his eyes burn into mine, not in that beguiling, deceitful way typical of a performer of his status, but his eyes danced. They were a bright, open shade of blue, and yet behind the frankness of their depths, I could see the storm brewing within. It was dark, and full of lighting and thunder.

Soon after the production left its home in the Majestic, our hands began to do the talking. Flowers in my dressing room, embraces held a few moments longer, tighter and constricting. That electricity soon made its way onto the stage, and it echoed in the reviews that followed the Phantom after it packed and made its way onto the next city. “The passion and the aura ooze from the wooden beams of the stage, flow past the pipes and strings of the orchestra, and intoxicate all that sit in the plush red seats of the opera house” Steve Connelly from the New York Times had written.

I let out a small giggle and I felt Michael shift behind me. His breathing was now coming in long, deep inhales, and he turned onto his back. He was asleep. I stole a glance at him, and I slunk off the bed. Upon emerging from the bathroom, I quickly gathered my undergarments from the floor, then the red beaded Versace dress I had worn to the after party. I slid on my pumps and turned back to the bed. I watched Michael sleep, taking in the way his black hair covered half his face, almost Phantom-like. His broad chest rose and fell, and my eyes ran over the thin line of hair that traveled from his chest, down his stomach, and disappeared under the sheet that draped over the bottom half of his body. He was an excellent lover, perhaps one of the best I’d had, but that wasn’t saying much. He mattered to me no more than my next meal. I would not see him again until the international tour kicked off in four months, and most likely by then, there would be a new toy to play with.

I placed a gentle kiss on the one cheek that was exposed and headed for the door. As I passed the sitting room, I gulped down the remaining wine from the bottle at the table, grabbed my wristlet from the couch, and left.

Upon exiting the elevators and crossing the lobby, I took notice of the striking man in the black and red suit waiting by the doors. He twirled his cane in what I knew was exasperation and impatience.

“Were you really going to stand there till I came out? What if I decided to stay the night for once, dad?”

“Ha! You never do” he snorted, wrapping an arm around me and guiding me out to the black SUV with tainted windows that waited. A black hood disguised as a valet attendant held the door open.

“There’s bound to be lots of attention at the Ritz” he said as the SUV took off into the brightly lit streets of Los Angeles.

“Why would you do that? What if I wanted to be alone for once?” I groaned, looking out aimlessly toward the city lights. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his head snap toward me so fast, he might have broken a bone or two if he were human.

“On your night of triumph?! What’s come over you? You wanted this”

I didn’t answer, pretending to be enthralled by the darkened windows of buildings and small shops. There was a mural that depicted the struggles of Mexican immigrants in the narrow and over-populated streets of downtown LA.

“I sent flowers to Katherine” I said after a while “you nearly killed her”

“Oh come on, since when you do you feel any remorse? You wanted this” he repeated, and this time, his voice dropped a few notches, turning raspy and dry, almost like a growl. He was twirling his cane again, and I watched his fingers run over the handle made out of solid gold and carved into the image of a serpent. Or was it a dragon?

“I didn’t mean it when I said it. If anything, you could have just…” what could he have done? Make her catch a really bad case of tuberculosis and make her miss the production, only to return after convalescing, thus leaving me in the sidelines again to play poor old Meg Giry as I was originally cast? Or maybe…

“Given her throat cancer?!” he laughed, loud and boisterous, slapping the shoulder of the black hood sitting on the passenger seat. He and the other sitting at the wheel laughed along.

“With only a month before rehearsals? How would you have done it, Lus?” the one driving asked through his laughter, looking at me through the rearview mirror with his bright, red eyes. I made a face at him.

My dad scoffed. “Say what you will, that human part of you will always infuriate me. You take what you want, with no thought to the cost. Do you understand me?” he asked, taking my hand. I nodded.

“Yes, dad”

The SUV was now turning into the circular driveway of the Ritz Carlton. “Good. Now, get out there, and bask in the glory you deserve”

The black hoods at the front transformed into men in suits as we drove into the chaos of paparazzi and fans. The black hoods stepped out, with one going to control the crowd, and the other to open the door of the car. Right before I stepped out, I turned to my father once more.

“I will be going back to Vermont tomorrow and there is something you WILL do for me” I snapped at him and then exited the vehicle.

I smiled my way through the crowd, signing pictures of Michael and I as the Phantom and Christine, pictures of me alone on the stage belting out “Think of Me”, and editorial photographs. I took selfies, shook hands, gave hugs, and tried my damned hardest not to squint at the binding flashes of the photographers. My father stood directly behind me, invisible to all, and yet with the smuggest smile upon his face. If there was something the daughter of the Great Orchestrator of all evil could boast of, it was of a doting, proud, overprotective father.

“Whatever it is, I won’t do it. I know where you’re going with this” he retorted as I finally made it inside and the elevator doors closed. He said it with such rigidity, and yet his voice sounded already defeated.

“Yes, you will” I smiled, taking off my pumps.

“I will not leave you unprotected”

The elevator dinged, and we exited into the Presidential Suite.

“Unprotected?!” I laughed, walking into the bedroom. The black hood who kept watch over me stepped out of the closet and transformed into his usual façade. “And just who do I need protection from? Nosferatu?!” I said with obvious sarcasm, pointing to my guardian. He sucked in a breath in mock offense.

“Sorry Nos” I said to him. He only chuckled, exactly like my favorite monster, and waved his long, spidery hands at me.

“There are things you do not understand” my father nearly shouted “things you will never be able to even begin to comprehend, because of that cursed human nature you carry. You’re limited, and as much as you are my daughter, and an Untouchable, you are still at risk…”

“Aww, am I really so-”  Important  “-precious to you?” I cooed, stepping towards him and placing a hand on his arm.

“Don’t try to flirt with me, I’m not one of your toys” he said, shaking me off. My tone softened even more.

“All I ask is ten days. No you, no black hoods, no guardians. I need some space”

“You wish to be rid of me, Lus?” Nosferatu gasped, clutching his chest, pretending to be deeply wounded. I chuckled and walked to him, wrapping my arms around him. He returned the embrace and placed his cheek upon my head. Nosferatu had been with me since my eighth birthday, never leaving my side. I had convinced him to change his appearance into the classic vampire, and had remained my closest friend ever since.

“I think the precious princess needs a vacation. You’re tired, aren’t you?” Nos said softly, gently holding my chin and cooing at me. I nodded and stuck my bottom lip out like a little child.

“Enough!” barked my father, sickened at the childish sight. Nosferatu looked at me and shrugged.

“Killer of joy” I murmured under my breath, but Nos wouldn’t dare react, biting his lips to keep from laughing.

My father sighed. The cane twirled again. He had lost this battle the moment I had stepped out of the car.

“You will not leave Vermont. Ten days” he said with finality. I squealed and I hugged him tight. He only rubbed my shoulders twice and stepped back. Physical contact was something he always shied away from, especially from me. I never understood why. He showed his affection in much “practical ways,” as he put it.

The Man in Black

I landed in Vermont to no fanfare, having left it behind in the chaos of L.A. My white Range Rover was waiting for me at the parking garage when I exited Morrisville-Stowe Airport. The car was unlocked, and the keys were in the ignition. No black hood in sight. With my bags secured in the trunk, I now drove down Route 100, past the lower village and the tourist area, into the residential area of the mountains. Getting off the main road and taking the narrow streets into the wooded area, I soon reached the one-lane that diverted into the long driveway lined with pine trees, and I stopped at the wooden gates lined with black ironwork. The gates beeped and whirred as they opened, and I was home. I had changed the name of the property from Black Mountain Villa to Haven Estate upon my purchase of it nearly three years ago. The majestic stone mansion rested on top of a hill, the crowning glory of the thirty acres that surrounded it, mostly hidden by pines and evergreens.

I opened my luggage and threw my clothes on the bed as I made the necessary phone calls. My adoptive parents were first, and it took enough convincing to keep them from getting into the next plane. I lied, saying I was going to New Zealand on vacation. My brother and sister were next, and the same lie kept them away. Friends were kept at bay by simple text, and the messages sent by Michael, asking where I was and if we could meet up, went ignored. The last call I placed was to the housekeeper. She had been to the house just the day prior, she said, and had stocked up the fridge. She offered to come in, but I told her I’d be away, and instructed her to return with the cleaning crew in ten days. With hesitance, she relented.

I walked down the winding staircase and entered the butler’s pantry to grab a beer from the bar when I suddenly stopped in my tracks. The fridge was open. As I closed it, I turned to the sound of a crown cork popping open, followed by a sigh of contentment and whistling coming from the balcony adjacent to the kitchen.

My blood boiled as I sprinted past the kitchen and burst into the balcony.

“You lying, deceitful snake! How could…”

My accusation died in my throat as I took in the man sitting on my armchair. His wavy, black hair was perfectly combed back, his black suit was perfectly pressed, and his blue eyes looked at me with amusement.

“…you” I breathed.

He smiled and nodded. I hadn’t seen the Man in Black in years, not since the day of my Awakening. It had been my 21st birthday, the day I had been officially recognized as my father’s daughter, the last descendant of the Nephilim.

“Forgive me for making myself at home, we don’t have beer this good where I come from” he said, taking a long chug of my Stella Artois.

“What are you doing here?” I said, snapping out of my shock.

“Oh, you know me, I’m just a walkin’ dude, passin’ thru” he said in his distinct drawl. He looked me up and down. “You look good. Healthy. Prosperous. Congratulations on the play. You got what you wanted”

He threw an open newspaper on the table. I picked it up and groaned when I saw a picture of me performing two nights ago with the title: “The Best Christine Daae since Sarah Brightman?”

“The most angelic voice to ever caress the walls of the Shrine Auditorium” the Man in Black quoted from the paper. “I don’t know where the Shrine Auditorium is, but it sounds like some pretty big stuff. Daddy must be proud” he winked and took another long drink. I shifted on my feet and crossed my arms. He wasn’t praising me, he was judging me.

“If you’re passing through, you must be going somewhere” I said.

“Indeed I am” he said, standing. He walked up to me, tilting the beer bottle back and taking another long chug. “Just left New York City. Looking for a boy named Jake. Got a couple of questions for him. Figured I’d stop by and check in on you. See how you’re holding up”

“Well, you seem to know everything there is to know. Save you a trip up here”

“Oh, but I did need to come here. Last time, when we met, you had quite a few questions, don’t you remember?”

I looked away. I remembered quite vividly. I had hounded him with the million questions that gnawed at me from childhood. He had sat down on the pool chair at my parent’s house, hidden in darkness as I sneaked out of my room to meet him. Of all the characters who had called on me on the day of my Awakening, the Man in Black, or Walter Padick as he had called himself, was the one that had stuck most prominently in my memory. A sorcerer from another dimension, he had talked of parallel words in six different universes. He talked of recreating them all in the image of a great King, and spoke of ways to access these worlds through portals to a place he called Mid-World, with some of these portals being on Earth. When I asked him to take me there, he simply looked at me with a hint of disdain and regret, saying I was “too old to be of any use there”

“You left me with more questions than answers” I now said accusingly.

“Some of your questions didn’t need answering” he replied.

“They do” I said, looking him dead in the eye.

“Ah, the big one” he exclaimed, placing his arms out and turning dramatically “why are the Ancients relegated to Earth? You know, you keep asking those kinds of questions, one day they’re going to get you hurt”

“I need to know”

“You have everything you need to know. You already know of the places on Earth where your daddy’s kind is not permitted to go”

My eyes widened. Father had always boasted of Earth having been his domain from the moment of his exile. He claimed every square inch as his own.

“Oh, he hasn’t told you!” he exclaimed “you’ll have lots to talk about when he gets here. Probably in no less than twenty-four hours, if you’re lucky. Black hoods are probably flying on swift wings as we speak”

I didn’t respond. I knew he was right. There was no way my father would let me out of his sight for too long. Even at the age of twenty-six, I still felt like a repressed little girl. More so now, standing before that great traveler, seeing his sympathetic gaze, no doubt thinking that I was a pitiful child.

“You know, there is a place you can go where he can’t find you” he whispered after a short, unsettling silence.

I looked up at him confused. “A portal?”

“Of sorts. It’s the only place where you can disappear without having to step off-world”

“Where?” I asked.

“A little town in Maine, called Derry. The place itself is nothing out of the ordinary, small and industrial but it is a direct link to my world. You can stay there and hide for a few days. It’s the only city in the Keystone World where your daddy and his minions are forbidden from entering”

“Hmm” I mused. I wanted to say no, but the prospect of being away from the ceaseless watch of black hoods was nearly irresistible.

“How do I know you’re not tricking me into something?”

“And risk daddy’s wrath? Now why would I? The ol’ serpent may be banished, but he sure as hell ain’t one to trifle with. I promise, you just stay for a few days and come back in one piece. I am the only one permitted to use that passage so you’ll be safe. He’ll forgive you for dropping off his radar, like he always does”

I watched him. His face was serious. He drank the rest of the beer, and placed the empty bottle in the waste bin.

Derry, Maine.

“I’ll go” I said.

End of Chapter 1

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 2

-----

Tagged: @hello-helianthus

#pennywise #it 2017 #it movie #pennywise fanfic #pennywise fanfiction #pennywise x oc #pennywise fic #fanfiction #fanfic #it #stephen king #daddywise #clowndaddy #pennyboi #clownboi #clownfucker #pennywise smut #horror

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my-lazy-genius · 7 years

Text

Stardust

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Characters: APH Belarus (Natalya Arlovskaya), APH South Korea (Im Yong Soo). Mentions of: APH America (Alfred F. Jones)

Pairing: KorBela [South Korea x Belarus]

Summary: In which new doors open - literally.

Author’s Note: Me, dragging myself out of a ditch: I’m……. alive…….. aka this was for @weekofhetalia‘s hetalia extravaganza last month but that just…. didn’t happen. Anyways this is really long. One of these days I’ll redo this and make it longer and less rushed.

Natalya’s fingers skim comfortingly over the switchblade in her pocket. Her shoes click against the concrete as she hurries down the road, eager to get back home. She’s not particularly afraid of the things that lurk in the dead of night, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t paranoid. Still, she knows this route backwards and forwards.

So generally, it’s a surprise when she sees a doorway that she’s never seen before, light filtering beneath it.

That, she concludes, is odd. The building has always been there, but the doorway is new, and despite the light beneath it, the building itself is entirely dark. As though responding to her attention, the door clicks and swings open, briefly blinding her. Suddenly, she feels as though she’s being tugged, half dragged, towards it.

And then she’s falling.

–

Natalya wakes with a start. Her gaze fixes on the sky, dark and smoke filled. This isn’t her town, she immediately knows. Machinery whirs all around her and distantly, she can hear voices. Her head is spinning and it takes her a moment to gather her bearings, staggering to her feet and leaning heavily against the wall of what appears to be an alley. It’s rundown and foggy, criss-crossed with wires and gray skies overhead.

Where the hell am I?

More importantly, what the hell is she wearing? Natalya is suddenly conscious that she’s not only in heeled boots, but a corset and skirt. It looks distinctively steampunk, now that she thinks about it. She’s not too familiar with the fashion - she’s only seen some at costume parties back home. Her gaze darts up, watching people pass the alleyway - and sure enough, they’re all dressed in similar fashion, tailcoats and machine cogs.

Well, it explains all the machinery and factories looming on the skyline.

She moves to step into the street, but fingers curl tight around her arm and yank. Natalya hisses and instinctively goes for her blade, only to abruptly remember that she’s not wearing the same clothing and not only is her switchblade gone, but her phone is missing, along with her messenger bag. So she has no idea where she is, no way to contact anyone, and she’s staring into the eyes of a viciously grinning man with a death grip on her forearm.

“Where’re you headed, sweetheart?” He drawls. “Stick around a while.”

Natalya promptly stomps on his foot, hard, digging her heel in. The man snarls and releases her, and she whirls around and darts out of the alley, all too glad that she’s accustomed to moving fast in heels. Only briefly, she hears the man giving chase, but she’s already darting into the crowds of moving people, blending in.

–

When she’s sure she’s lost her pursuer, Natalya decides to ask around.

“I’m not from around here,” she tells people, “could you help me?”

People only give her odd looks and move on. An older man, crow’s feet around his eyes, is sitting outside of a hat shop. He gestures her closer and Natalya hesitates, just for a moment, but she doesn’t have many options and ultimately goes forward.

“At the edge of town, you’ll find a mechanic shop - ask for Im Yong Soo. He’ll be able to help you.”

She hesitates again. “You’re helping a perfect stranger. Why?”

“You remind me of my daughter,” he tells her, and says no more.

Natalya thanks the man quietly and slips back into the crowd.

–

The place takes time to find. It’s a hole in the wall, half hidden on the corner and crushed between what seems to be a bakery and a place full of leather clothing. At least, Natalya hopes this is the place. Putting her pride aside, she strides up into the open building. The noise is louder here, the whirring of machinery echoing in the space. Despite hearing the obvious presence of a person, she can’t see anyone.

The sound stops.

“You’re new,” says a voice, “I wouldn’t forget a pretty face like yours.”

Her gaze finds the source of the voice quickly; a tall, wiry boy, pushing goggles up from his soot stained face. He smirks at her and Natalya narrows her eyes, once again questioning her decision as she watches him sweep up a rag and wipe his hands off.

“I’m looking for someone named Im Yong Soo. I was told I would find him here.”

The man’s grin seems to widen. “Well, sweetheart, you’re in luck. Im Yong Soo, at your service.”

Figures.

Natalya promptly decides that she doesn’t like this guy. Unfortunately, he’s the only lead she has.

“Right,” she says instead, shoving her pride as far down as she can manage, “I need your assistance. I’m not from here - actually, I haven’t the slightest idea where here is.”

He scrutinizes her. “Don’t get many outsiders around here,” he replies, slowly, “where do you come from?”

“A city called Seattle.”

His dark eyes fix on her, hard. “Oh. You’re from the other side. How-?”

“Look,” she cuts him off, “can you help me, or not?” “‘Course,” says Yong Soo, “but only under one condition.”

Briefly, excitement swells in her chest at the idea of getting home. She nods, urging Yong Soo to state his condition - if it’ll get her home, she doesn’t care.

He sets the rag aside. “You have to take me with you.”

Natalya audibly sighs.

–

“Of all the places - why a flea market?”

Yong Soo beams back at her, fixing his goggles back in their place over his hair. “Flea markets are always the first places to know about anything. People share gossip, vendors pick it up. Now listen, there’s only two ways to travel between our two words - being summoned through an old and mostly forgotten ritual, or the Stardust crystals.”

“Long time, no see, Yong Soo,” greets a vendor, waving him over.

She watches as Yong Soo puts on an easy smile and strides on over, following after a moment of deliberation. He’s chatting cheerfully, but Natalya notices the way he’s subtly digging for information, nodding along to keep the vendor talking.

“-and there was this group of guards earlier, talkin’ about how supposedly that lost princess had returned,” the man is saying, gesturing vaguely.

In the crowd, there seems to be some commotion. Natalya turns her head, watching suited men with weapons pushing through. Yong Soo isn’t turning, so Natalya reaches forward and yanks his arm sharply. He turns, finally, following her gaze. He spots the men the same time as they spot Natalya and Yong Soo.

“There!”

“Well,” Yong Soo drawls, “that’s our cue to get out of here.”

–

Yong Soo leads the way, weaving through alleys and sprinting down city streets.

“What did you do?” Natalya demands, having foregone her heels long ago and now just carrying them.

“Sorry, princess, this one is all on you,” Yong Soo informs her, huffing as he darts into another alley and make a running leap, dragging down a rusty ladder, “now climb!”

Natalya doesn’t even hesitate, hurrying onto the ladder and climbing up towards the building’s roof. Yong Soo follows just behind her, dragging the ladder back up just as the men round into the alley. Yong Soo scrambles onto the roof behind her and sprints on, clearing the jump between the roof and the next one easier. Natalya thinks he’s insane, but she leaps after him, chest heaving and hair flying behind her.

Yong Soo comes to a tower structure on top of the building and starts up the ladder quickly. Up here, the smoke is strong enough to smell and Natalya coughs as she climbs up after him slowly. The men have made it onto the roof across and are running towards them.

Yong Soo is grinning. He holds out a hand to her. “Do you trust me?”

Natalya scowls. “No,” she says, but reaches out regardless.

His grin just widens, and he takes her hand, pulling her up and to him. “Smart girl.”

“Why are we up here?” Natalya demands, watching the men make a running leap to the roof. “We’re cornered!”

“Here,” says Yong Soo, thrusting a pair of goggles into her hands and yanking his down over his eyes, “wipe your goggles, hitch up your skirts, and try not to breath too deep. Also,” he grins as she yanks her goggles down over her eyes, “you might wanna hold on tight.”

There’s a distinct sound, something cutting through the air, and Yong Soo raises his hand the same moment a rope appears through the smoke and clouds, dangling down towards them. Natalya gapes, but Yong Soo’s arm is around her waist, and all she can do is cling tight to him as he grips the rope and both of their feet leave the ground.

Natalya holds her breath.

–

The people above pull the rope up onto the deck of the airship. Natalya’s seen images of what they were imagined to be like, but seeing one - being in one is an entirely different story. It’s wide and supported by sails and balloons, dark fabric casting massive shadows.

Yong Soo helps her up over the railing first and she promptly slumps, catching her breath. He rolls onto the deck with a whoop, back pressed against the hot wood and chest heaving, sweat glistening at the curve of his throat- Natalya immediately halts her thoughts. Oh, God. Am I attracted to him? Gross! Ovaries, she reminds herself, sharply, tearing her gaze away, we don’t like him, remember?!

Yong Soo is getting up, still laughing a breathy laugh. He gestures vaguely to the ship and then sweeps his arms in a mocking bow. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

“You’re a pirate,” Natalya replies, gaze darting.

He laughs, reaching out to pull her up. “Yeah, more or less. Sky pirates are pretty different from what you call pirates, though. I’ve read about yours - sea dwellers, yeah?”

She only manages a nod. Yong Soo greets and jostles shoulders with the crew members as he tows her up towards the sails and balloons, releasing her arm only to climb the ropes and hang there by one hand, grinning as the air rakes through his hair.

“You’re insane!” She calls up to him, wind whipping her hair around her face.

“Not insane,” he retorts, “just fun! Sky pirate code says we shall not give way; the air is our domain and it is free! Listen, girl-”

“Natalya,” she tells him, “my name is Natalya.”

She catches herself debating if Yong Soo is a beacon of light, just for a moment, when his grin lights up his expression.

“Alright then, Nat,” he laughs, “you’ve got spunk! I like that; let me tell you something. People here, anywhere - they’re going to try to take away your anger. Don’t let them.”

At the helm, one of the crew members shouts, “Take what you can!”

Yong Soo’s voice crows with the rest, “And give nothing back!”

–

Natalya wonders how the passage of time works here in comparison to home. She thinks about her friends, wonders if they’ve realized she’s gone.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

As the days go on, she learns that Yong Soo isn’t so bad. Eccentric maybe, but not terrible. He’s trying to help her - that much is obvious. There are nights when she can’t sleep - she’ll stand out on the deck, feeling the chill of the night air, and he’ll come and sit with her. They don’t speak, most of those times, but she’s grateful.

–

“There’s two crystals, see,” Yong Soo explains to her, muscles flexing as his arms work hand over hand to adjust the sail, “and when they’re together, they produce the ability to jump between worlds. Or rumor say so, anyways, but I’ve got a habit of believing those around here.”

“So they’re separated?” Natalya asks, watching him, silently learning the jobs around here.

It’s odd; they don’t seem to have a specific leader. Sure, there are people that most of them seem to look to - one of them being Yong Soo - but nobody seems to be a designated captain. She half expects that sort of situation to end in chaos, but these people seem to work well together.

“‘Course,” says Yong Soo, interrupting her thoughts, “otherwise there would be a constant portal open, and who knows how that would end. I’ve got location on both, though - it’s just a matter of beating the royal guard there. Speaking of which, what’s this business about you being a princess? The princess in this kingdom went missing nearly twenty-one years ago, a year after I was born.”

It occurs, very briefly to Natalya, that she’s the right age to be this so-called princess, but it’s a ridiculous thought and she shakes her head. “I’m no princess.”

“Hm,” Yong Soo muses, tying down the ropes.

–

The light from Yong Soo’s lantern flickers ominously against the walls of the cave as he takes the lead in, leaving Natalya to fall into step with another one of the crew members - a blond boy with a bandana tied around his forehead.

“So,” he starts, “you’re from the other side?”

Natalya eyes him. “I suppose. That’s what everyone keeps calling it.”

“Alfred, Natalya,” Yong Soo calls, gesturing them forward and ducking into an offshoot of the cave.

The room lights up brilliantly - the source seems to be a pale crystal, golden and gray specks floating and glittering within. Natalya steps forward, circling it as Yong Soo approaches.

“Is that-?” Alfred starts.

“Yeah,” says Yong Soo, “one of the Stardust crystals.”

The cave rumbles as Yong Soo wrenches it from its place, and later, Natalya watches the entire thing collapse as they soar away.

–

“Do you have a family back home, Natalya?”

Yong Soo’s voice startles her - it’s the first time he’s called her by her whole name, not Nat. She lifts her gaze as he crosses silently towards her and sits down. The deck is quiet, save for the few people who are making sure they stay the course. She sighs softly, turning her gaze back to the stars.

“Yeah,” she tells him, “I do.”

“Do you miss them?”

She tries not to think about that.

“Every day,” she tells him, dropping her head onto his shoulder, “my brother and sister are very dear to me. Do you have family, Yong Soo?”

He doesn’t answer.

–

They don’t quite beat the guard to the second crystal. In the midst of fighting, howling voices and bloody blades, Yong Soo pulls Natalya aside and shoves a firearm and his satchel into her hands. For just a moment, his hands linger on hers and the shouts fade.

“Go,” he tells her, holding her gaze with a rare intensity, “the first crystal is in that bag. Get the second one and go home to your family.”

He leans forward, then, and it only clicks that he kissed her once he’s disappearing into the throng. She whirls around and sprints into the rundown factory where the crystal should be. They’re running on rumors, but the rumors place it here.

She can only hope they’re right.

~*~

Yong Soo keeps thinking about the time Natalya asked him if he had a family. He didn’t answer then, but he knows the answer.

“Take what you can!” He howls.

This crew is his family.

Voices rise around him. “And leave nothing in return!”

Distantly, he’s aware of a firearm going off, a blade catching his sleeve, Alfred fighting back to back with him, the memory of Natalya’s lips against his. His eyes feel too heavy, threatening to slide shut, and his body feels like stone, sluggish and dragging. But he fights on.

~*~

When Natalya steps back out, she’s hyper aware of the power in her hands. She’s not expecting the carnage outside of the building - there’s nobody left standing. Her stomach wrenches as she picks past the red clad bodies of the guards, mingled with the mix-matched colors of the pirates. She finds Yong Soo in the center of the slaughter, slumped and pale. It looks as though he’d tried to stop the bloodflow of a bullet wound in his side.

Yong Soo groans softly when she hooks his arm over her shoulder and carefully hauls him to his feet.

“You came back,” he manages, looking at her through glazed eyes.

“I made a promise,” she tells him, jaw set and eyes forward.

“Someone like you shouldn’t bother with the likes of me.”

“Why not?” She asks. “My life needs some unpredictability and you may just be what I need.”

When she sets the crystals together, they hum and glow until the world goes white. Home feels like such a distant idea, suddenly - but she can’t leave him here. Somehow, he’s snuck into her life, become a part of it that she can’t leave behind.

And she’s falling again.

Natalya holds tight to Yong Soo’s hand.

#korbela #hetalia #aph south korea #aph belarus #my writing #hetaliaextravaganza2k17 #future writing

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amidst-the-storm · 5 years

Text

(This is going to be a very long post under the cut since I’ll be copying and pasting portions of Leashed Emotions.

Warnings: burns, torture mention, possession, split personalities, permanent scarring, Tempest’s past, semi-graphic descriptions of three deaths. And: There’s a fluff portion near the end so bear with me.)

YOU ACTUALLY DECIDED TO READ THIS?.... Okay well thank you. This is all crap that I’ve written, and it’s stuff canon to Tempest’s past on this blog. If you want to give her story a look-see, please use the above link to Leashed Emotions. Book Two, Drowned Out, is currently a WIP and thus anything beyond book one’s timeline (so most of this blog’s persona) is subject to change as the ‘past’ gets written into existence.

Anyway TIME FOR SOME TORTURE N’ FLUFF HAVE FUN AND IN WE GO!

Time frame: Timeline two, Sonic 06, forest, Tempest is 19 years old (+12 extra hours thanks to time travel).

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"....-t.... T-em...-pes-t?..." The broken words reached her ear like a whisper. Tempest stopped instantly, Sonic's next words falling on nothing. Her head turned to a large area of dirt, breathing in shallow breaths. "..... Tempest.....?" Her father's question was so low, so lost.... The two adults were huddled together in the middle of the clearing. Tempest didn't even think. She ran to them, dropping to her knees the moment she was close enough and hugging them. That lump came back to her throat as she clutched her parents tight. She wouldn't let them slip through her fingers. Not ever again. "Mom! Dad!" She whimpered. Something inside her fell away, a wall she had long ago created. Her parents hugged her back, weakened by whatever had happened to them. ".... Where'd you-... Go...?" Tempest's question was met with a quiet and sharp gasp. She raised her head, eyes dilating as she fell back. Her butt hit the ground as she stared in horror. Her father tried to speak, but blood bubbled forth from his mouth. Both of her parents choked on their own lives. A single piercing round of crystal had ripped through the chest of her father, into her mother, and then arced into the ground. It pulsed and glowed with an ominous purple aura. Sunbeams ripped into her skin, oceans drowning her breath out. Someone was talking to her, but she heard nothing. A sort of liquid- was that-.... A 'tear'?.... Formed in her eyes, blinked back. A cut deeper than any knife or metal could create plunged into her chest. Lava bubbled and phantoms screeched. It took a few seconds for Tempest to notice that the screeching was her own. Her head had tilted skyward, no longer focused on the image her parents' bodies offered. The agony- it was awful. Someone was plunging a knife full of venom into her heart, twisting until the organ was soup in her chest. Something sliced open her cheek. Tempest barely noticed the pain, until more slices appeared. Purple smoke obscured her vision as the pain exploded from every location. Nothing existed except loss. All that was felt was pain. They were in so much agony. They were in so much pain.... They were so.... So.... ..... Hungry......

[/|\]

Sonic's jaw dropped. He had tried to scream, run to Tempest and pull her back.- But something stopped him. A wave of fire burst out from her, slamming him into the tree he'd been leaning against. He grunted from the hit, cracking his eyes open by the smallest fraction. If there was any chance of helping her, of saving her parents- What he saw wrecked every line of thought. A purple and white hedgehog was being absorbed by her. She was lifting into the air, surrounded by a tornado of flames. The hedgehog's crystalline structure melted away like ice cream in the sun. Tempest herself was still screeching, but it was changing. She was growing exponentially in size, skin altering color as something grew on top of it. Her back warped and twisted, before bone-like wings burst in an explosion of blood from her. Light burned into his retinas. Sonic shut his eyes tight, turning his head sideways as the intensity broke through his flimsy eyelids. Everything fell away, replaced by the searing pain. He tried to squirm, but found his body was pressed up against something. The light began to fade, leaving the hedgehog temporarily blinded from it. Sonic wriggled a little longer, before noticing the cut of small pebbles into his skin. He opened his eyes. The world was absolutely wrong.- Chunks of it floated above, biomes ripped from the ground up. The sky was an endless cascade of dark purple webbing, energy coursing through it. Everything smelled like nothing. Sonic breathed in, jumping upright. He had been laying on the cobbles of the New City district. "Sonic!" Tails rushed over, his hands fidgeting in worry. "What happened???" "A bright light happened... And a headache." Knuckles groused, stomping over from a fountain. He shook his head in annoyance, before realizing what was above. He stared, mouth opening slightly in shock. ".... Wait, what?!" "..... Where are we?..." Amy stumbled out from behind a building, appearing better for wear than Knuckles. At least she wasn't clutching her head and tapping a foot in annoyance. ".... What's going on...?" "The Chaos Emerald has disappeared...." Silver whispered, looking between his hands. "It's all because of Solaris." Rouge stepped into the group, that normally sassy tone of hers gone. Shadow nodded beside her, while E-123 Omega simply... Stood... Silently... Behind them both.... Not creepy at all. "It seems we were all caught by the spatial distortion." Dr. Eggman noted from nearby, sighing as he did. "..... I figure that this land will soon collapse into nothing... And that will be the end of it." "Not if I can help it." Sonic smirked, throwing out a thumbs-up. "Any ideas-" A loud growl shook the world. It echoed in every bone, shot through every vein, and distracted every thought. "..... What....?" He looked up. That bright light was centered above them, burning a hole into the protective shield. Sonic lowered his head once more. "..... Mephiles played us all for fools, in order to break Iblis' Seal..." Eggman chuckled. ".... If we weren't in mortal danger, I would congratulate him... He caused that girl to be so consumed with despair that she cried... Breaking the Seal." Eggman clapped his hands together. "And now that Solaris is alive, it will inevitably destroy what remains of this world in its desires to eat." "Then we need to stop it." Shadow grunted. "So how to do we do that?" Eggman waved his finger. "No, no. Defeating Solaris here- now- would do absolutely nothing. Solaris is a creature that exists in the past, present, and future all at once." "I don't care! If that's what it takes- past, present, and future- I'll destroy them all at once!" Silver clutched his fist. He planted one foot forward, glaring Dr. Eggman down. "Solaris will be stopped, today." The man huffed, crossing his arms. "I suppose, if all three of you were to attack Solaris at once- your combined energy of the past, present, and future would be able to stop it.... But..... It would require a massive amount of power..... Such as the Chaos Emeralds, which are far too scattered to be collected in time." "Pfff- really, Egghead? C'mon, you know me better than that by now." Sonic danced from one foot to another. "We'll have those Emeralds in a sonic-second!" Eggman glared over his bushy mustache. "..... Fine.... But if you die in the attempt, then we are doomed." "Whatever, Eggman.... Just point me in the right direction, wouldja?" "...... Its all of our necks, hedgehog-" "Just give us the directions already." Shadow interrupted. Eggman glared at the ebony hedgehog, before sighing. "...... That way." He raised a finger. Sonic was gone in a flash of an instant, leaving Eggman with several would-be helpers... It didn't take long for him to relinquish the other gems' locations.

[/|\]

Sonic flashed away from one of the growing tears in reality. It had taken a few minutes to grow used to the dim neon-colored landscape, but once he did, it became recognizable. What had been a discolored and glowing metropolis now vaguely resembled one of the off-shoot merchant wharves Sonic had seen a few days ago. He did his best to avoid the green and glowing water. What had once been a peaceful land was now being torn apart into nonexistence. An invisible force slid him towards another crack in reality. He sped up, jumping away from certain death. If he could just find a Chaos Emerald, get back to the others... ... Tempest was probably in that thing, somewhere..... But it was destroying Mobius.... And he had to stop it, even if one of his friends was the monster. He was going to save Mobius..... He had to.

[/|\]

It all combined. A million realities convulsed and writhed in an endless screaming expanse. Their mind stretched into the infinite. The past, present, and future all exploded in a whirling firework of insanity. Solaris’ memories flared like solar winds, ripping away the veil of time itself. For one brief moment of eternity, they all understood. Mephiles’ ambition cut through the moment, erasing that beautiful second of clarity. Everything plunged into death. The dust of enemies long past filled their senses. The iron stench of spilled blood permeated their collective nonexistence. The uncontrollable desire to rule poisoned their mind. Tempest’s life flowed over the poison like a river. A million milliseconds of life flashed and sparked with locked feelings. In a torrential wave of emotion, it burst forth. The power of the Iblis Flame scorched them all. They fell into a soup of memory and thought. Everything was nothing. The endless expanse of reality was before them, unveiled like a finely printed map. They reached out a hand, scratching a million souls out of existence. They swallowed them all, breathing in deeply. A low roar echoed from their vocals, burning into the universe. There was so much possible energy here. A swipe was made at some of it, greedily devouring the freely offered energy. She was so hungry, so starving.... She would eat until she could feast no longer.... Not like this world would offer him enough food, anyway.... They drank with gusto from the wine of time, cracking open a million planets like they were fortune cookies. The energy of every star was siphoned into their gullet, burning as it went down. He would never stop eating.... But he had to... He missed his parents... But she would not stop. She would eat. She had manipulated him, after all. Yet he had destroyed him.- They were unsure, but that meant nothing. So what if they could no longer determine whose memories were whose? They had a massive supply of food. Nothing would stop them from eating until they were full.

[/|\]

Sonic stood in the circle of Chaos Emeralds, facing both Shadow and Silver. His eyes were set on the two, mouth a firm line. "Let's do this." He raised his hands, one facing Shadow and one facing Silver. The other two hedgehogs copied his movements, before the Chaos Energy began to flow into them all. Sonic didn't even flinch as the familiar power washed over him. Silver on the other hand stumbled, surprised by the pure ability that flowed into his veins. Shadow barely blinked. All three were encompassed in a blinding light, their fur brightening and turning gold as their eyes sharpened. All senses went up, powered by the universe itself. Three sets of ruby-red orbs shot open. The three leaped into the air. They soared towards their goal. Sonic narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the goal. Save Mobius. Save Mobius. Save Mobius. ..... Save Mobius... .... And try to save Tempest. The three broke through the light that had previously burned. Now, it was a dim flash of luminescence that barely phased them. Silver and Shadow vanished from Sonic's physical line of sight, but in a way, he could still 'see' them. Shadow now fell to the past, already prepping a surge of a Chaos Blast. Silver echoed down from the future, telekinesis a light in the dim reality. Sonic surged forth, trying not to look at what he was fighting. He spun away from a surge of blue fire. The monster before him roared in ancient anger. Its eyes were purely white, black hair floating up above as if caught in an endless wind. Six bone pieces flapped behind it like wings, crystalline skin reflecting the flames that burned eternally on all the wing fragments, connecting them. The thing had no clothing, but it was so smooth that its gender was unknowable. The only hint that Tempest was in there was the black coloration of the hair. "Temps-!" He shot right. Six funnels of crystal turned to follow him, flames igniting in his wake. One hand outstretched to snag him. Sonic flashed between the fingers, slashing upwards as he did so. Chaos Energy ripped into the skin, spurting blood momentarily. Sonic shot up into the stars, his red eyes staring down at his friend. But this thing wasn't his friend. This was Solaris. His friend was gone. .... But she couldn't be. Sonic plummeted. One foot kicked down, both hands lowered. The world lent him its energy, coalescing into the point he wanted. "Hƨiɿɘq llɒʜƨ llɒ!" Sonic was smacked left by a backhand. Solaris laughed. It was creepy- filtered with a million voices, a million words. All of time itself was in that voice, all voices ever made echoing in its timber. Sonic yelled out, covering his ears.

[/|\]

"Hƨiɿɘq llɒʜƨ llɒ!" The universe rolled and rocked. Insanity flitted through every word, every memory snapped and torn. They were in so much agony. They were never made for this. They didn't have enough. They reached out to the galaxies, wiping out civilizations as old as time in favor of food. Nothing would stop their conquest.... They would feed.... Until it was all stripped bare. "Tempest!!!!" That voice. He recognized it. She hated it. She missed it. He reached out, blind and fumbling. He pulled her back. The three struggled, burning a hole through three planets in their annoyance. How dare they be disrespected? They were a god- goddess- whatever it was!- Solaris roared. Their hand struck out, smashing into the golden nuisance. At the same time, they deflected a bolt of energy. A third destroyed rocks as they sailed towards them. "ƎM ƎЯOᆿƎઘ ⅃⅃Aᆿ ⅃⅃IW UOY!!!" Flames shot forth, atoms ripped asunder beneath their onslaught. Millions of them combined into the main three, screeching. Their hands shot out, flames bursting forth, feet kicking. They refused to be met with defeat. Each of them fought with the same burning velocity, one of them succeeding in breaking a fragile hedgehog bone. Silver grunted, but continued fighting. Shadow's bolts shot into their eyes. They screeched, backing up with a deafening scream. Shadow didn't pause. He aimed straight for the heart, breaking through the skin. That Solaris vanished, its remaining energy bursting into its two remaining forms. They redoubled their efforts, slamming everything they had into Silver and Sonic. The golden hedgehogs dodged each attack, Silver firing projectiles of rock back while Sonic just kept dodging. They were so angry.- Everything had culminated into this. They were going to win. They refused defeat. Teeth grit beneath the skin, power siphoning from all the stars in the universe. Fire flowed to their hands, burning away sanity as it sharpened. Smaller. Sharper. More dangerous. They slashed their fire-sword out. A rock projectile crashed into their windpipe. Solaris gasped. Solaris cut apart atoms. Nuclear explosions encompassed their body. Blue flames burst into a cage of death, shooting out. Silver crushed their windpipe. That Solaris vanished, energy collapsing into the final form. Beneath it all, she was screaming. It hurt so much. He wanted it to end. He would never give up fighting. She had to give up. But she couldn't give up. She had come this far, found all the answers- he had done so much.... They engulfed a galaxy, breaking it apart beyond the base level. A golden streak made it by their line of sight. Something cracked against their skull. It drilled deep into their brain, beyond the crystal and fire. No blood came from the wound- the energy was so powerful, that it cauterized the injury on contact. Solaris released a mute gasp. "..... I've got you......" He didn't want to die- she didn't want to die- why had they not foreseen this- why- why- y- the final Solaris form screeched to a halt, staring into nothingness. Deep within, Sonic gathered all the power he could find. Flames scorched his nerves as he breathed in deeply, curling into a ball.... "KshhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHOOOOOOOM!!!!!!" Everything went up in a blast of unbridled, unrestricted power.

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Agony. That was all she could think to call it. Something was tearing into her ear drums, while lava destroyed her back. It burned and seared, breaking down the skin. She could feel it going into the nerves. She couldn't scream. Her lips were frozen shut, freezing from nothing. Mephiles' laugh echoed in her broken ear. It was healed, before fresh pain ripped into the shell. Tempest struggled, trying to get away. His laughter never stopped. It was everywhere in the nothingness. "GET AWAY FROM US!" Mephiles roared. Acid spewed into her veins, racing into her every nerve. Tempest whimpered quietly through her unopened mouth, wanting it all to end. She felt tears slip from her eyes unbidden, falling into the void. A soft golden light slowly materialized before her. The pain ebbed, her ears recollecting themselves and becoming whole once more. Something went wrong with her back. Tempest screeched, ripping open her mouth. Those wounds healed in milliseconds, but her back- oh heavens above- "STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!!!!" She convulsed. Something settled on her back. The pain grew even worse. Tempest screamed even louder. She was pulled up slowly, carefully, as she continued to writhe from the damage. Her eyes now refused to open. She saw only red, with faint traces of gold. ".... It'll be alright....." Something cool flowed over her back. Tempest came down from the pain high one bit at a time, screams transforming to gentle whimpers. She was in so much pain.... Her body ached... Her back burned like wildfire.... Her veins felt acidic.... But she couldn't prevent anything. She was helpless. "..... I'll find you...." "..... Hel....p....." "..... I'll find you...."

[/|\]

"Tempest, you'll be late for school dear!" She opened her eyes. The ceiling was above her, but... It was far too high. She went to move her body, only to silently reel back from what she received. Something on her back was aching.... And her nerves... They felt... Too short.... Tempest sat up and clambered out of bed. She dropped from the side with a quiet 'thump!', hitting the ground. In her haste to meet her mother, she barely noticed. "Mom??" She jumped upright and bolted from her room, down the hall, beyond her parents' room. The girl ran into the kitchen, spotting her mother making breakfast. Eggs and pancakes. "Yes dear. Now go get ready- unless you want to be late for your first day of kindergarten." The woman winked. Tempest blinked back in shock. "Kindergarten-? But- mom, I'm nineteen." She spoke calmly, those accursed phantoms already beginning a slight swirl around her head. She bit into one of her fingernails, looking at the floor. It was really close- and her feet were-... Really... Chubby.... "Of course you are, but you still need to get ready." Her mother's feet appeared in her vision, before a hand rubbed her hair. Tempest shook her head, ridding herself of the offending appendage. ".... Bu-...." She looked up, only to be met with a slightly stern glare. Tempest silenced herself. She turned and slowly trekked to the bathroom. The counter was above her. Tempest glanced to the toilet, before lowering the lid and clambering atop it. Then she hopped onto the counter, and finally looked herself over. ..... She was a kid. And not just any kid- she was a small kid. Herself, maybe... Four years old? She blinked at her bare chest, feeling her heart stop. Two gray streaks- indents of sorts- ran down either arm, all the way from somewhere behind her to her elbows. They were.... Weird. She tapped one, feeling a normal touch sensation in her brain. It was as if her arm had just- sunken in at the indents. It reminded her of-..... Mephiles. Tempest gulped silently and quickly turned. She stopped when her back was to the mirror. Two burn scars- one at either shoulder blade- rested on her back. They were filled with gnarled and light yellow flesh. She experimentally tapped one, feeling limited sensation from the area. "..... You can not escape what you are..." Tempest jumped off the counter. "Are you getting ready?" Her mother's voice echoed from the kitchen. Tempest did not dare look at her reflection again. She covered her left eye as she left the bathroom, darting to her room. She quickly found a shirt and pulled it on, careful not to catch it on the edge of the indents in her arms. "Yes mom!" '..... What is this....'

[/|\]

Twelve years, come and gone. Tempest picked up the book from the University's library. She knew she was stealing it- she was destined to steal it. Nothing in any world would ever stop her- any where she existed, anyway.... Too many years had drifted by with no word from the others... Tempest had never doubted that it had happened. The scars on her back and the indents in her arms were evidence enough of its occurrence.... It didn't help that she had nineteen years worth of memories... Of a time that never happened. But when that purple ray filled the sky, and the planet shook.... Tempest knew for certain it had been real. Keeping it to herself for so many years had been hard- she had always failed to act her age, and.... Well, that was apparently just as much a reason to ignore a kid as them being emotionless. Still. Tempest sped over to the hatch that she vaguely recalled, a silent smile crossing her face as she climbed up the bookcase with ease. A second chance at reality had taught her a lot... And hurt her a lot... But that was best not to focus on at the moment. Tempest heard voices as she pushed open the hidden hatch. She jumped up and raced to the edge of the University's roof, heart racing. She could barely breathe. Her burn scars ached just as much now as they had every second, of every day, of every year... For a long time. The moon glowed from above, dropping sweeping swaths of glowing light upon the city. Spagonia hummed lowly, old cobbles stretched and worn thin from many years of use. Buildings stretched lazily to meet the sky. Streetlamps waved to the stars, a wind of dust and pine trees drifting through each and every alley. It felt like home... A very old, very familiar home. "Hey!" A deep, gruff, and slightly smoked voice called out. It wasn't threatening like last time, though. Tempest looked up at the moon without turning around. The fateful book was held tight in her grasp- 'Evidence of a Gaia', by one Professor Pickle. It felt different, yet the same. The summer winds rippled around her dark gray hoodie, hiding what had happened from reality. ".... Temps?...." The question was broken and quiet. Tempest turned slowly, feeling tears prick at her eyes. A smile that could put the sun to shame fixed itself on her face. She ran full-tilt into the werehog, hugging him tight. More drops of salty water fell from her eyes as Tempest breathed into his fur. ".... I-it's been a w-while...." She laughed breathlessly, feeling like her heart would break out of her chest at any moment. ".... I-I've mi-issed you..." Two very fluffy and furry arms slowly wrapped around her. They pushed gently against her hoodie, before getting tighter. Sonic released a quiet laugh. Tempest could feel the sunbeams radiating off of him as the two shared that moment. ".... I missed ya, Temps..." Sonic and Tempest separated at a snails' pace, neither wanting to forget the other. "... What am I missing here?" Chip's voice was like a stone at glass. Tempest's eyes slowly turned to face the small god, staring at him. More tears filled her eyes. Was this what it was like to cry?.... It felt so nice.... She waved, trying to keep her voice in tact. ".... I-I'm an old friend of Sonic-c's." She laughed. "C-Chi-ip, I missed you s-so much..." "..... What?" Sonic smiled, patting Chip on the back with a furry hand. "I'll explain in a few days." He grinned mischeviously. "Don't worry." The hedgehog turned his face back to Tempest, a very, very familiar smirk on his face. He stretched out one hand to her. ".... Wanna join us?" She didn't hesitate.

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ANYONE WANT TO CRY ‘CAUSE I JUST RE-READ THESE PORTIONS AND I’M READY TO CRY-

Gosh above I forgot how much I loved writing this... This is why I can’t. Re-read. My own. WORKS. WHY’D I DO THIS TO MYSELF-

#[outside eternity:the mun]#[burned thunder: tempest]#[pencil and paper: writings]#tw: trauma #tw: negativity #tw: murder #tw: head trauma #tw: torture #tw: body horror

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littledraga · 6 years

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Moonstone and Sunshine Chapter 5

As the days went on, Ignis was finding it harder to go to work. A fact that didn’t settle well with him. His duty had always come first, been the structure that his life was based around.

Now, warm moonstone eyes teared up at the door to his apartment, begging him to stay, just a little longer. This had been going on regularly since they had gone on their first adventure into the city together. Prompto would beg him to stay, and he would promise to rush home as soon as he could. This time he had an extra promise to give.

“Shopping needs to be done tonight so that I can make dinner.” Prompto’s lip quivered, and Ignis smiled softly. He knew how to pull at Ignis’ heartstrings. He hated the idea of leaving him alone, but Ignis had to stay strong. There were things that needed to be done.

Pulling Prompto to him, Ignis held the blond against his chest as he spoke, “I’ll hurry home tonight, then we can go together. Does that sound fair?”

At the offer, Prompto jumped with delight, nearly colliding with Ignis’ jaw. Clapping his hands together and holding them to his chest, “Do you mean it?”

Nodding, Ignis chuckled, “Of course, Prompto. You can help me pick out what to make for dinner.”

With an excited nod, and a promise to find the best recipe ever, Prompto scampered off to the kitchen.

Ignis could hear him prodding at one of the cupboards as he stepped out of the apartment. “It seems he’s found the cookbooks,” said Ignis as he smiled and made his way down the hall. Today was an important day. Today he would talk to King Regis about Prompto and what Ignis had done. He had to admit he was more than a little nervous.

Ignis should have kept the this to himself.

“You summoned a fairy?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“From a book, you bought at a thrift shop a week or so ago?”

“Correct.”

“One with feathered wings that shine like… What was it now?”

“Moonstone, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, and if I recall you missed a day around that time. Gladiolus had brought in Noctis, and he stayed the night in the Citadel to give you time to rest.”

Ignis frowned. He wasn’t sure how that was relevant.“That is correct. My alarm had been turned off, and my phone shoved under myself.”

The King and his Shield gave each other a quick and knowing look. A soft smile and Regis leaned forward on his throne. As he spoke, his voice was soft, concerned.

“And do you think you gave yourself enough time to rest, Ignis?”

Ignis positively bristled at the insinuation. While he tried to keep his tone proper, his frustrations were poorly veiled. “With all due respect, Your Highness, do you honestly think I would present something of this...” he gestured vaguely with his hands, unsure how to explain the situation simply, “... nature if I was not fully certain myself?”

For their part, at least the King and Shield kept their surprise to a minimum. With another silent exchange, one that made Ignis’ blood boil, Regis gave his final verdict.

“Ignis, while I greatly appreciate everything you have done for Noctis, and the crown, I think you may be pushing yourself too hard. Please take the rest of the day off and rest. Allow yourself a few days of respite, and I will be happy to see you then if you still feel that there is a fairy in your presence.”

Schooling his face, Ignis gave a bow and made his way out of the throne room. With people down every hall, Ignis had to keep his composure until he was sitting in his car. Once the door was shut, he collapsed against the steering wheel, letting out a frustrated groan. He had never felt so embarrassed in his life. A healthy level of skepticism was one thing, but to send him away like he’d lost his mind? For as long as he had worked for the crown, he thought he should expect to be treated better than that.

Taking a deep breath, Ignis straightened himself in his seat. He could worry about explaining things to the King later. For now, he may as well take advantage of getting extra time off. With that thought and a smile, Ignis was off to his apartment. He had made plans after all.

Opening the door as quietly as he could, Ignis crept silently into his apartment. There was a sound of humming and, as he came closer, he recognized it to be the tune Prompto would always hum, leaving Ignis to try and recall why he knew it. Only this time he heard a snippet of words as Prompto hummed.

“I want to ride my chocobo all day!”

So that was the song. Ignis couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdness of the lyrics. It was still rather fitting for the blond. Making his way deeper into the apartment, he found Prompto sitting at the kitchen table, all of his cookbooks strewn across the polished wood.

Curled over the pages, Prompto idly flipped through them. Some of the books were open, but most of them laid closed. It was the first time Ignis noticed just how many cookbooks he had. Maybe it was time to downsize.

Leaning against the door frame a few moments longer, Ignis let himself indulge in the sight before him. Prompto seemed content to pour over the books to find the perfect recipe. It made something in Ignis’ chest swell. Shaking his head, Ignis took a deep breath. It was nothing but the by-product of Prompto’s magic. He couldn’t let himself get carried away. With a gentle knock on the door frame, Ignis smiled. “Hello, again.”

Jumping at the sound, Prompto fell out of the chair with a yelp of surprise.

Ignis rushed over as Prompto lay sprawled out on the tile. “Prompto, are you alright?”

Looking up, Prompto blushed, pink cheeks making freckles stand out even more.

There was a strong urge to trace along the patterns they made, but Ignis swallowed it down as he helped the blond sit up.

Once up, Prompto winced as he stretched out his limbs before he turned to give Ignis a smile that made his heart melt and wrap his arms around Ignis’ neck. “You’re home early! Or,” pulling away he turned, Ignis assumed he was looking for the time, “Have I been sitting there that long?”

Laughing, Ignis pulled Prompto close again. Even if it was only magic, Ignis was grateful for how Prompto made him feel. “No, I’m early. The King sent me home. He seems to think I’ve gone mad.” Letting out a huff, Ignis rested his chin on top of Prompto’s head. He could feel him wiggle in his arms, turning to get comfortable he figured.

Once Prompto had stilled he asked, “Why would he think something like that?”

“Because there’s a fairy in my apartment,” he said flatly. He understood how insane it sounded but he still thought he deserved more credit than that.

Prompto apparently agreed with a huff of his own, leaning more against Ignis. “You’re not crazy! I’m right here.”

Ignis tilted his head down when he felt Prompto tilt his up.

Moonstone eyes peered up curiously at him. “Why were you telling him anyway?”

“This is a different kind of magic. Here we use the power from the Crystal; the few of us that use it, at least. I don’t know anything about this kind of magic, so I was hoping for advice, though it seems it’s not something the king is familiar with, either.”

Prompto made an amused noise and sat up properly. “So you don’t know how to use magic, just borrow it from the gods?” He seemed to regard Ignis curiously a moment before he let out a giggle. “But you’re so good with magic!”

Before Ignis could defend himself or ask what Prompto meant by borrowing power, the blond was on his feet, scrambling to the table.

Pushing over a small pile he grabbed a familiar leather-bound book from the bottom of a pile. “This!” Dropping to his knees again, Prompto handed to book over to Ignis. “Show them the book, and they’ll believe you, promise.”

Looking down at the worn leather, Ignis ran a hand over the cover. It seemed a good plan as any, at least it would show them something substantial. Looking up to Prompto, he smiled and nodded.

“I’ll show them tomorrow, but first.” Standing up, he offered a hand to Prompto to do the same. “Have you any ideas for dinner tonight?”

Nodding excitedly, Prompto grabbed one of the books he had left open and showed Ignis the page. The recipe was a meat pie, and one of the more time-consuming ones. “Since we have extra time, can we have this? It sounds tasty, but I was afraid it would take too long after you got off work.”

Prompto was bouncing so much that Ignis had to take the book from him to read it. The hardest part was the crust, but he could do that and let it set before they left to go to the store. “Perfect, I’ll get started with the dough, then we can be off to the store for the rest.”

Nodding again, Prompto was quick to clean up his mess while Ignis started on his dinner prep.

When preparing to leave, Prompto tugged on Ignis’ jacket. “Are you really going to go out dressed in work clothes?”

Turning around slightly, Ignis gave him a curious look before looking down at his clothes. “Did I get flour on my pants?” He gave a swipe at his pants just to be safe, and Prompto giggled and shook his head.

“No, I mean don’t people change out of work clothes after work?”

With a soft smile, Ignis shook his head. “These aren’t ‘work’ clothes. Just my clothes and I happened to wear them to work today.” Thinking that was the end of it, Ignis made to open the door, but there was another tug on his suit. Turning again, he saw Prompto fidgeting slightly. Confused, he turned around entirely. Reaching for Prompto, Ignis stopped himself. He was touching Prompto a lot again. He needed to regain control.

Before he could make up his mind on what to do, Prompto looked up with a sheepish smile. “I don’t fit with you.” There was a pause where Ignis tried to understand before Prompto elaborated. “You’re all dressed up in a full suit, and I’m in a tank top and jeans. Aren’t I embarrassing like that?”

With a soft chuckle, Ignis shook his head, reaching out then for Prompto’s hand. “Nothing about you embarrasses me, Prompto. You’re dressed in clothes you like aren’t you?” Prompto nodded again, “And I’m dressed in clothes that I like.” Another nod and he tried to smile, squeezing Ignis’ hand. It seemed an inconsequential thing to be upset over, but, “Would it be better if I changed into something more casual for our outing?”

Beaming, Prompto nodded, before adding quietly, “You don’t have to, I know it’s silly.”

“I know, but it’s one of the many things I adore about you.” Pressing a kiss to his forehead, Ignis moved to the bedroom to change. Once the door was closed, Ignis leaned against the door and stifled a groan. He wasn’t getting any better at dealing with the feelings Prompto gave him.

Whenever he seemed upset, Ignis couldn’t help his need to care for him. When he smiled, it felt like Ignis would burst, how his chest swelled. Ignis wanted to hold him and keep him happy. More than anything he wanted to cherish that smile. He would find the balance. But first, there was shopping to be done.

Setting down their shopping, Ignis smiled softly as Prompto bounced around a soft, green chocobo plush they had found in a nearby shop. ‘Just waiting to be rescued’ Prompto had said, and who was he to argue with such sound logic. Putting everything away except what he needed for dinner, Ignis quickly began his work with Prompto chatting nearby to his chocobo.

“I suppose I never thought about it, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you love chocobos.”

Prompto gave an undignified squeak, holding the plush to his chest. He feigned insult but still smiled at Ignis. “I’ll have you know, chocobos are amazing creatures! Take the green chocobo,” he held up his own for reference. “There’s nothing that can get in its way on land. Mountains and valleys; nothing will stop it!”

“Except a puddle,” Ignis added as Prompto squeaked again, defending his precious chocobo. Ignis spent the rest of the night listening to stories of chocobos that Prompto had met as well as other creatures. Including in one case, a friendly tonberry.

The next morning, Ignis marched on to meet the king again, this time with the book in hand. Before King Regis could question why he was back so soon, Ignis held up the book, letting a guard take it to His Majesty.

After a few moments of flipping through the pages Ignis heard him mutter to his Shield, “Well, that’s different.” He had enough tact at least not to look smug, even if he felt it.

Once they had finished looking through the book and passed it back, there were questions again, but at least they weren’t asking if he was crazy. They were simple enough questions, asking about what had transpired so far. Though one question he was unprepared for.

“And what is your relationship with the fairy?” That was the problem, wasn’t it? He wasn’t so sure himself. There was no way to answer that and Ignis began to panic. Clarus seemed to take pity on him, and his silence, moving on.

“We will need to question him, for the sake of security, of course. Though I’m sure, people will be interested in learning that there are fairies as well.”

Ignis gave a nod, inwardly cringing at the idea. Prompto had never seemed afraid of crowds, but he was unsure about the groups that could draw. As he made to leave, Ignis quickly turned again and bowed deeply. He was in no position to ask, but all the same, “Please treat him with kindness; I have suspicions he hasn’t seen much of it.” The two shared a knowing look but nodded in agreement all the same. All that was left was telling Prompto, but that was far off yet. He still had Noctis to get home.

After their fight, Noctis had improved, going to his meetings regularly and training without too much complaint. Ignis was grateful for the turnaround and was doing his best to compensate the prince. He still needed to eat his vegetables, but what was the harm in letting him have a larger portion of fish to go with it?

Though for all his improvement, Ignis noticed he was nearly as tired as he was before. The bags under his eyes were rather prominent. Checking the schedule, he smiled as he typed out a memo to the staff. With Prompto’s help at home, Ignis was ahead on his work. If Noctis went to the first two meetings, Ignis could cover the last while Prompto met with Clarus. The others were minor and could be easily dealt with with meeting notes. Noctis earned some rest. It would be a pleasant surprise for the morning.

Telling Prompto about being questioned had gone..., worse than he had hoped. He was cowering in the corner of the couch, arms wrapped around his legs and trembling.

“Prompto, it’s alright,” he spoke as soothingly as he could, reaching a tentative hand to the blond. The trembling stopped. Prompto now sat rigidly. With a sigh, Ignis leaned back on the couch, leaving the offer for Prompto to come closer open as he spoke. “Clarus may say it’s for security, but to be honest, I think they’re just excited to meet a real-life fairy.” Prompto began to relax a little, so Ignis kept talking. “It’s not every day someone gets to see a fairy, and you have a completely different kind of magic. And once you’re done, I can show you the gardens if you’d like?”

Prompto had nearly launched himself into Ignis’ lap. “There’s a garden? What kind of flowers does it have? Are there trees? Is there a pond or a fountain? Does it have fish in it? Are there animals in the garden? Butterflies? Oh, I miss butterflies!”

Laughing, Ignis reached up to hold Prompto’s face, gently in both hands, a thumb resting lightly on his lips. They were so soft, just like he remembered when he’d kissed him before. They hadn’t kissed since the first night they had shared a bed. Ignis was afraid of Prompto feeling forced into it, but if he was the one to initiate it, maybe it wouldn’t hurt.

Prompto seemed to read his mind, laying a hand over the one of Ignis’, gently brushing the thumb away, leaning down to press his lips against his own.

Sighing contently into the kiss, Ignis ran a thumb over Prompto’s cheek, relishing in the warmth under his palms. Prompto leaned up, forcing Ignis to lean back, deepening the kiss. The hand not under Prompto’s trailed down his neck. Ignis enjoyed the shiver that ran through the other as his hand continued down until it came to rest on Prompto’s hip.

Prompto intertwined their fingers, letting their hands relax at their side as he broke the kiss. Leaning his forehead against Ignis, he smiled softly.

Smiling up at Prompto, he couldn’t resist reaching up to steal another kiss, and another until Prompto erupted into a fit of giggles.

“You promise to take me to the gardens tomorrow?”

“I promise,” whispered Ignis.

At least, he had meant it when he made that promise.

Standing at the door to one of the many conference rooms in the Citadel, Prompto kept a painful grip on Ignis’ hand. Prompto had insisted on the suit that Ignis had made for him, even though Ignis had told him that a nice shirt and slacks would have been enough. First impressions, he had reminded him, and Ignis laughed. Now that they were there, any confidence he had was gone.

Trembling so much Ignis thought he would shake right through the floor, Prompto’s eyes darted around the spacious hall.

Leaning close to Prompto’s ear, Ignis whispered, “Just think of the gardens, Prompto. Once I’m done with the meeting, I’ll come collect you, and we’ll spend as much time there as you’d like.”

With a nod, he still shook, but he straightened himself and looked a little calmer.

It wasn’t long after that Clarus walked down the hall with three more people in tow. Another Crownsguard and two men in suits; Council members. Seeing that many people made Ignis nervous, he didn’t want Prompto overwhelmed. Not that he got a say in the matter.

Introductions were easy enough, and once Prompto had a name for everyone he started to relax a little. One of the Council members had tried to begin questioning Prompto outside, asking about fairies.

Before he could answer, Clarus gave him a soft smile; one that Ignis had only seen him give Iris until present. “Why don’t we go inside first? It will be more comfortable to sit in the chairs.”

As the others made their way inside, Prompto fidgeted in the hall, watching Ignis. “You promise to come back and show me the gardens?”

With a quiet chuckle, Ignis nodded. “Yes, I promise. I’ll hurry over as soon as the meeting is done and we can walk the garden as much as you like. Now hurry on in, the sooner you start, the sooner you finish.” Leaning up on his toes, Prompto pressed a kiss to Ignis’ cheek and darted into the room with a small giggle, leaving Ignis to stand in the hallway of the Citadel red-faced and stuttering.

Quickly turning on his heels, Ignis made his way to the meeting. He could feel Prompto’s lips on his cheek and the warmth of his skin throughout the conference. It was comfortable. Ignis couldn’t remember a time that a meeting had gone by so fast, but maybe it was because he was distracted by the promise to spend time with Prompto again.

Eventually, Ignis would learn to accept that fairies were good at causing trouble. Today, it was a disappearing act.

“What do you mean he vanished? When there’s a guest in the Citadel aren’t you supposed to be watching them?” As the guard tried to stammer out apologies and excuses all at once, Ignis let out an aggravated sigh, waving him off. He knew he was being rude, but it was hard to keep calm when Prompto could be anywhere. “I see why it was so easy to lose a young girl in your care.” Turning again, he made his way down the hall. The guard had said Prompto had been alone in the waiting room for a bit more than an hour. Who knew how far he could have gotten. It took more than half an hour before Ignis was struck with inspiration on where to find a blond fairy he had made a promise to.

The gardens were extensive. There wasn’t much left of nature inside the wall, so it had been readily agreed to bring as much of it in as possible. Ignis was afraid Prompto would wander off again before he could find him, assuming the blond was here in the first place.

It wasn’t long into his walk in the gardens that Ignis began to hear voices. Whispers. There was laughter too, soft and light in his chest. Picking up the pace, he followed the sound, he would know it anywhere. Coming closer the other voice was easier to pick up as well, and one he knew. Noctis. Uneasiness settled in his chest. Would Noctis be upset he had hidden this from him?

Steeling himself for the worst, Ignis turned a corner in the path that opened up to a small clearing. There against a tree, they sat shoulders pushing against each other. Noctis was wearing a crown of sylleblossoms that balanced on his head. The gardens had never been able to grow them. In his hands were daisies. Prompto was talking him through putting the last touches on a flower crown.

“Alright, now just slip the ends between the braids from the beginning.” Leaning more against the prince, Prompto eyed the work carefully until the last end blended in with the beginning. “Perfect! You did really well for a first try.” Giggling as the crown was placed on his head, Prompto lifted his head, finally noticing Ignis. “Ignis! I found the gardens! And a prince!”

Said prince waved sheepishly to Ignis from where he leaned against the tree.

Ignis chuckled at the sight, resting his hands on his hips. It was a photo worthy image, but he couldn’t imagine Noctis would approve.

“Found him walking the gardens and told me he was a fairy,” said Noctis, taking off the crown to look at it in his hands. “Grew a crown to prove it to me.” Carefully touching the petals, Noctis seemed lost in thought before he quietly murmured. “Is he really a fairy?”

“Yes, Highness. Prompto is a fae.” Ignis seemed to pause as the prince’s words sunk in. “He grew it as a crown?” he asked, perplexed, looking between the two.

Prompto nodded, beaming up at Ignis. “I asked him his favourite flower and had them weave together as they grew,” giggled Prompto as Noctis put the crown back on his head, pulling himself to his feet.

Turning to help Prompto stand, he called over his shoulder. “I think, Iggy, that you’ve got a lot of explaining to do. Does my dad know yet?”

Ignis explained the last few weeks to Noctis as they made their way to the car. Noctis had insisted Prompto come over for dinner so they could play video games.

As Ignis prepared to start dinner, he kept an eye on the living room and the two that were excitedly pulling out the latest system. It seemed they were already getting along like old friends. Prompto’s magic must work on more than just him, he thought as he went back to work on dinner.

Noctis laughing, truly laughing brought his attention back to the living room. Prompto was standing in front of the couch, trying to hold on to the controller like an old arcade machine while keeping it in his hand. Even Ignis couldn’t resist a small chuckle at the sight before Noctis grabbed Prompto’s slacks and dragged him onto the couch.

“What are you doing? Just, just sit down and hold it like this.” Noctis showed him how to hold a controller and walked him through how to use it. Once the game started, it had been less than five minutes before Noctis was loudly complaining and laughing about how badly he was losing to someone who had never played video games before.

“I’ve played video games before!” laughed Prompto, relaxing on the couch.

“There was a time where I would spend most my days in an arcade. I got free tokens,” Prompto glanced over to Ignis with a sheepish smile before he continued, “and we would play all day. I was best at the shooting games though.”

Noctis laughed, leaning back into the cushions. He seemed to resign himself to his fate as they clashed on screen. Ignis finished dinner to the sounds of Noctis and Prompto cheering.

“Hey, after dinner let’s play a co-op game so you stop rubbnning my face into the ground.”

As Prompto eagerly agreed, Ignis inwardly groaned, he really didn’t like being the death of the party. “After dinner, you should go over your notes for tomorrow’s meetings and go over the ones that were taken for you today,” Ignis spoke as he began dishing out plates for the three of them.

Ushering Prompto to the table, Noctis looked, smug.

Raising a brow at that Ignis waited for what excuse the prince would try to give him.

“Already went over tomorrows meetings and the notes from today won't be ready until tomorrow apparently.” With a hum, Ignis checked his phone to see he had a memo saying the same. He supposed it made sense they did leave before all the meetings were done. Smiling, he gave a nod.

“Very well, it seems the matters of the day have been properly dealt with. I don’t see any harm in you two playing a bit longer. However, it won't be too late, Highness. We have an early morning yet.”

Both boys cheered again and Noctis quickly started explaining all the multiplayer games he had for Prompto to choose from. Prompto excitedly began to ask questions about everything. And so their evening was set, and the beginning of a strong friendship began.

This new friendship was going to be the death of Ignis.

#ffxv #ffxv fanfic #promnis #Prompto #Ignis #Fairy au #cute #snuggles #Regis isn't trying to be a dick #Noctis understand #just let it be

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