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pokemonbiologyirlthetabletop · 7 months

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Spinarak & Ariados

Spinarak (#167)

Arachnifoveros viridis

General Information: Spinarak are spider Pokémon, who produce a poison that is fairly harmless to humans but potent enough to stun prey. They average in at 1’8 feet tall (0.5 M) and 18.7 pounds (8.5 kg). Which is, in fact, a rather large spider.

Habitat: Spinaraks are found in temperate and tropical forests across the globe. During winter they hibernate or simply die off.

Spinaraks and Ariadoses are not natively found on Antarctica, Australia, or Aotearoa (New Zealand).

Life Cycles: Spinarak are able to reproduce as soon as they are strong enough to spare the resources (level 15, as is standard). Once or twice a year, depending on the climate, they will lay around 200 fist-sized eggs (the normal size of bug types). Like other bugs, their eggs are heavily predated upon, and the babies are eaten regularly by bird Pokémon. In a clutch of 200, about 1-4 will survive to reproductive maturity.

Behavior: Spinarak live mostly solitary lives. Their main source of socialization is with other Spinaraks, when finding mates, and the occasional neutral Pokémon—someone who is neither prey nor considers the Spinarak prey. They’re amicable enough when raised by humans and can make a good companion for those who live more introverted lives.

Diet: Spinarak will try to consume anything that it can catch in its web, but due to size constrictions this tends to be other bugs. It’s favorite prey are Cutieflies!

Conservation: Least Concern.

Seriously, they’re spiders. And big ones. Just try getting rid of these fuckers—bet you can’t!

Relationship with Humans: Spinaraks are, well, spiders. While they are certainly cute spiders, they are still just spiders. They are both a nuisance to households everywhere and a boon to anyone with sense because a Spinarak will happily eat all of the other unwanted pests that come crawling around your basement! Additionally, their spider silk is incredibly strong, which humans have been using for fishing nets for thousands of years, and some cultures even use the silk to treat wounds. Spinaraks are common enough in media as any generic spider would be.

Spinarak are seen as perfectly suitable companions for new trainers, though few municipalities give Spinaraks out as starter Pokémon. This is less a problem with Spinarak, and more because of the fact that they evolve into Ariados…

Classification: “Arachnifoveros” means “horrifying spider” and “viridis” mean “green.”

Ariados (#168)

Arachnifoveros arachnifoveros

General Information: Ariadoses are the evolved form of Spinarak, and thus the Very Large Spider Pokémon. The tiny hooks on Ariados’s claws allow it to scale even vertical ceilings. Their average size is 3’7 feet tall (1.1 M) and 73.9 pounds (33.5 kg).

Habitat: Temperate and tropical forests around the globe. They have also been known to make their nests in caves.

Life Cycles: Ariados life cycles are similar to that of Spinarak, but as a much stronger Pokémon a female Ariados will lay clutches between 300 and 500 Spinarak eggs. The parent Ariadoses will even provide basic parental care of the eggs in the form of protection and guardianship up until hatching. Upon hatching, the baby Spinaraks are left to fend for themselves.

Ariados females will mate with males of other species that can withstand combat against it. Weak males are likely to be consumed. To this end, male Spinaraks rarely mate with female Ariadoses, but the reverse is not true.

There are few predators of Ariados. The most notable ones tend to be large bird Pokémon that can successfully defend itself against the Ariados, such as Talonflame, Braviary, and Corviknight. Packs of Arcanines and Houndooms have also shown themselves to be successful predators.

Behavior: The eggs of a mother Ariados will be laid in a protective nest, such as a cave or tree hollow, but in absence of a proper hollow the Ariados will create its own nest that it covers in protective spider silk to keep predators out.

Ariados are cruel hunters who will shoot single threads onto its victims, then follow them back to their nest where their bodily fluids are drank at a leisurely rate. Sometimes, it will allow one of its victims to escape with a single thread still attached to it, allowing the Ariados to follow it back to its friends.

Diet: Ariados are the ultimate generalist predator. They will eat anything that they can catch. In fact, if a Pokémon is smaller than Ariados and is not a steel, poison, ghost, rock, fire, flying, or electric type, then wild Ariadoses will consider it prey. This includes humans. The typings above are not automatically prey because of different incompatibilities, but that certainly won’t stop an Ariados from trying to eat a Pokémon of those typings. For example, a Togedemaru is a steel/electric type, making it both immune to Ariados’s venom and an excellent counter attacker with its electric shocks, but it is the right size to be Ariados prey and a young Ariados who is still learning what is and is not edible will certainly try to eat a Togedemaru that comes its way. Don’t worry, the Togedemaru will be fine in this scenario.

Conservation: Least Concern

Relationship with Humans: Ariados have been known to eat children! Yes, that’s right, human toddlers are meal-sized for a hungry Ariados, and let’s just say humans haven’t been happy with their existence ever since.

For as long as humans and Ariadoses have both been alive, there has been a heated war against each other. Ariadoses see small humans as food (because of course they do), and in retaliation we have notoriously liked killing Ariadoses, for food or for sport, though many cultures did at least eat them on principle. One would think that this would lead to the extinction of Ariadoses, but no, they breed way too quickly and are notoriously skillful predators and evasive prey. The Spinaraks might be fine (for some), but Ariadoses have been the enemy of humanity since the dawn of history. Many an old children’s story involves the slaying of a horrifying Ariados or being caught in its web, and the presence of Ariadoses (and Galvantulas) in adventure books persists well into the present day.

As for Pokémon Trainers, Ariadoses can make fine companions and excellent battlers, but the Pokémon Rangers will have better luck managing these beasts than regular trainers will. After all, millions of years of evolution-driven animosity does not make for good cooperation. The Spinarak may be a good companion for the introverted sort, but give that Spinarak an Everstone until you’re ready to take care of a Very Large Spider. Ariadoses are best suited for skilled trainers, possibly someone with several gym badges, or a Pokémon Ranger.

Classification: Ariados are the namesake of their genus, Arachnifoveros and was one of the earliest Pokémon ever classified by Linnaeus.

Evolution: Ariados evolve from Spinarak at level 22.

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Hey guess what, if you like my stuff, this is my website where you can find other Pokémon I've written on and more information about the game that I’m slowly making! Check it out! I write books sometimes too.

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bloodycassian · 3 years

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Tension - reader x Azriel - reader keeps a secret, Az finds out during battle.

Quietly stacking books, you hummed to yourself. Below the house of wind was one of the most massive libraries in the world, and it was your happy place. The smell of worn leather and the age of the books was comforting. Then there was the monastery screeching coming from the pit. Cassian was yelling too as he shot upwards, like a shooting star sent from hell. And after him, whipping tentacles of darkness that licked at his heels. Then, a blue shield right alongside those arms shooting upwards. The priestess screamed, frantically hiding behind bookcases or feeling to exit. You stood from where you had hid under a desk. Knowing Azriel, he would have told you about the attack if he had the ability to do so. He would have warned you if a threat was about to hit the temple. So this was...unexpected then. Suspicion rose in your chest, making you weary. But the threat was real. The whipping of those ugly arms breaking the railing above was real. You felt the light emerge from you before you could even think of it. The cool thrum of power flowed over you. Taking a breath, you centered yourself and walked to the edge of the balcony, gripping the rail and peeking down. The tendrils of darkness leaked translucent slime down. Not Byraxis, no... Something far more power thirsty. Azriel grunted as he pulled his sword from the side of a thick tendril licking upward. You summoned the light from your chest, coaxing it out of you. Cassian was slicing away at the tentacles that reached for him, while they began retreating. Inquiring about the new power source they felt. You let out your song of light, letting it bleed into that dark abyss below. "The guardian" Someone gasped from the balcony above. "Shes the temple champion." Silence, then awes rang out from all levels. Your light flooded the area, forcing the beast to retreat lower into the abyss. You paused only to hop over the railing into Cassian's arm. He still had his sword at the ready in the other hand. Azriel was far below, avoiding your light. He kept a safe distance away. You cursed yourself, knowing the information you withheld from him was going to cause issues. Your nose crackled at the pressure as Cassian slowly glided you down floor after floor. Chasing those slimy tentacles all the way down. You dared not speak, fearing the darkness would whisk your voice itself away. Whisper it as secrets to other dark forces. You did however, think about all the insults you wanted to throw at the two Illyrians for not warning you of their spying under the temple grounds. No one knew of what forces lurked in the tunnels below. Built by ancient fae along ago, no one remembered. No one dared to try to find out. Cassian and Azriel had only been down there to find out if Byraxis still lived, if the creature had returned to its chasam after the war somehow. The smell was putrid at best. Nauseating at worst. You held in a gag when Cassian landed with you. Your light burned into the side of the fish-like body that lay below, cowering from your light. Azriel stood in a corner behind you, siphons glowing in a blue that matched your light. Pure, bright light. "What exactly do you two plan to do with this now?" You said, biting back the anger that rose in your tone. "We need a spell seeker, someone who can find the book to vanish this thing." Azriel spoke from behind. "And it seems you would be that someone." He nodded to how the monster filling the pit seemed to cower from you. "Check the lower levels, for any spellbook that stands out to you. Cass you're with me." Az waved his friend over, both their siphons flaring as the beast moved weakly. You tried to ignore that clipped tone he used. How his eyes refused to even skim your way. Shame coiled in your gut as you ran to the stairs. You glanced one more time back to Azriel. Wholly focused on the monster in front of him, he tried to ignore the panging urge to protect you. You rushed up the stairs to the bookshelves that were still intact after Byraxis' attack. You followed your gut, trying to get rid of the nagging pull that was trying to bring you back down to Azriel. You closed your eyes, hands out in front of you and let your other senses guide you. Straight into the side of a bookshelf. You knew the Illyrians would be laughing if they had witnessed it. But it led you to just what you needed. The old wooden shelves were cracked with age, weathered. The second shelf from the top seemed to be singing to you. Like a magnet drawing you to it. You reached, standing on your toes. Then jolted back at the sharp sting that zapped through you. + Azriel's heart sank as more and more time passed. The weight of betrayal was still there, but concern overlapped it. The beast hissed and occasionally whipped a tentacle out - testing them. And it grew more confident with each minute. He cursed under his breath, his shadows unable to tell him anything about the dark thing. Cassian roared, spearing his sword into a writhing tentacle that wrapped around his leg. Azriel knew they had to keep it where it was so you could banish it. But the temptation to fly above and dislodge a rock big enough to hold it in place was growing. "I have it!" His heart gave in to relief at the sound of your voice. You held the book above your head triumphantly. "I just need to-" Before you could finish, you were swooped into the air. The smell was worse than before. You clutched the book like a lifeline. Az's shadows flared, beelining to you immediately. They hovered around, unable to spear through that light you emitted. You began glowing again, that blue light flickering as you moved the book away from your chest. The beast wailed.Az's heart lurched in his throat. He took off with a roar, sword out. And sliced precisely through the thick member that had been holding you in place. You fell. Cassian's soft laugh was a comfort. He held you against his chest, sword still out. "Miss me?" He asked, angling his siphon to fend off an attack. He turned serious as he looked down. You could have swore you saw his dark skin turn ashen. "Say the spell, just.. yell. Yell it now." He grunted, swinging his sword and trying to balance you in an arm and fly all at the same time. You stumbled over your words, but summoned that familiar light inside you. You opened the book and began. The ground shook when the beast screeched. Cassian's next words were muffled. Not words, cheering and jostling you in his arms. Azriel circled below, making sure the monster was really leaving. It turned to dust below you slowly, its ashes circling upward and covering you. Cassian coughed. You looked up to see the specks floating high above, shimmering in your light like snowflakes. They raced up, going to that moonlight hole in the roof of the library. "Good work, Champion." Cassian congratulated as he set you down on the floor. Your feet stuck slightly, but the odor was dissipating quickly. Azriel did not look as pleased. He stared at the two of you with the icyness that would make enemies weary. "Why didnt you tell us?" "Why didnt you already know?" You winked, making Cassian hold back a laugh. You turned, going to place the book back where you had found it. It was calling for its home, as if it knew it had served its purpose. There were mutters of the two Illyrians behind you, then rustling of wings as one took off. Azriel followed you, you could feel those cool shadows nipping at your heels. They never fully encompassed you like you'd seen done to his friends. It was like they were weary of you, afraid perhaps. He jogged to catch up to you. "You could have been killed." He growled beside you. His wings were still flared out, as if still waiting battle. You smirked to yourself, not allowing his bad mood to ruin your after battle high. "So could you. Anyone can die at any moment." You didnt spare him a glance, you knew that he was brooding. He said nothing else as he followed you to the bookshelf. You placed the book back with a sigh, the attachment fading. The book seemed to whisper a sort of goodbye before that hum dulled into nothing, and you could feel the exhaustion beginning to gather around you. Azriel had not taken his eyes off you. That cold stare burned into you, and when you finally met his gaze his eyes flared. You could feel those shadows circling you, trying their best to take you in. You let a flicker of that light flare out of you and they retreated. He hissed, taking a step back. "Take a break from it Az, you cant possibly know everything." you scolded, trying to shove past him. He grabbed your hand, pulling you back. "I know about those powers. I know the stories." He bit back a smile as your face flashed in shock. "And I know there are only three of you left." He held your hand still, locking you in place even further. The cool thrill of terror thrummed deep in your bones. You smiled sweetly at him though, hoping to play it off. "I have no idea what you're talking about." You ripped your hand away, your power thrumming in preparation for a fight if he tried. He only chuckled to himself, nodding. Those shadows made him seem menacing, whirling around him in a way that made a bit of fear come out. His wings seemed to grow, towering over his head. "Enjoy the walk up." He winked, before turning and taking off with those powerful wings. You cursed to yourself, stunned there at the bottom of the pit alone. Your mind raced the entire way back up, your light the only thing making it possible to make it past the first six floors. Once there was enough faelight to guide the rest of the way, you tucked that light back into yourself. You could have sworn you heard a soft laugh from the pit.

#azriel #acotar fic #azriel fic #azreil x reader

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goldenpixel · 3 years

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The scene with Wilbur in Quackity’s latest lore stream made me Think some Thoughts, and I wanted to get all of my SBI family headcanons together in one place, so here’s this post

First thing, this is their age order:

Philza -> Techno/Wilbur -> Tubbo -> Ranboo -> Tommy

- Techno and Wilbur were born on the same day, so most of the family refers to them as “the twins” but they are not blood related

- Philza did not know how old Techno was when they were ruling the Antarctic Empire, he thought that Techno was around 21 when he was actually around 14-16

- this is a fact that haunts Phil to this day, because he committed a massive amount of war crimes with an actual child, and also for reasons that will soon become very clear

Philza and Techno

- they’re married

- they got married with them each thinking that the other was close to their own age (Phil thought Techno was in his early 20’s, Techno thought Phil was in his late teens)

- for more on their marriage, check out this post

- despite Techno and Wilbur being the same age, Techno is mentally much older due to his past and his general status as the Blood God

- Phil did most of the work raising the older kids, but Techno did his fair share, and you can definitely see his influence when you look at the kid’s behaviors

- both of them are immortal

- Techno is a new immortal, the Blood God has only just come into existence, but he isn't leaving anytime soon

- Philza is an old immortal, he was there when the world was born, and he'll be there when it dies

Wilbur

- Wilbur and Philza are the only blood relatives in the whole family

- as much as he loves him, Wilbur has always been a bit bitter towards Techno, because when they were teenagers, Techno was off ruling and adventuring and having fun with Phil during the AE, and Wil was left home with a young Tommy to look after

- Wilbur’s hair is naturally blond, just like Phil and Tommy’s

- no one knows who Wilbur’s mom is (unfortunately mpreg is the norm on this server, so Phil carried him, and he’s got some ideas on who Wil’s mom is, but he honestly doesn’t care enough to look into it)

- Wilbur has wings

- they’re much smaller than Phil’s, he can barely fly with them, but they’re the same color and shape as Phil’s

- because of how fragile his wings are, Wilbur should not technically be able to fly, but he literally sheer force of will-ed it and threw himself off the roof of their house so many times that he can glide when he jumps from high places, and if it’s a really high place, he can get in a few good flaps of his wings to get him some extra distance

- Phil doesn’t learn that Wilbur can semi-fly/glide until one day they’re off adventuring together and Wil is being dramatic and theatrical and walking backwards while he talks, and he falls off a cliff

Tommy

- Tommy has been with them since he was a few days old

- because of his light features, most people assume that he is Phil’s son by blood, and he just didn’t inherit the wings

- (at ages 10 and 16, Tommy and Wilbur did the blood-brothers handshake where they cut their palms and then shook hands, so if you ask them, they’re blood brothers through and through)

- Techno taught Tommy how to sew

- Tommy is a young god, but he hasn’t grown into most of his powers yet

- Tommy is a god of death, the future Death himself, Kristen is his mother

- (this is how Phil comes into possession of him. Phil, being the Angel of Death, was really the only reasonable choice when it came to Death herself finding someone to raise her son)

- Tommy has light features, even though Mumza has dark features, because she purposefully made him out of the light, she wanted him to be good and kind, so she created him from the literal light that you see when you're dying

- because he was born from the actual moment of death, despite Tommy's eyes being blue, they hold the void itself in them

- if you look too closely into Tommy's eyes, it can be easy to lose yourself and fall right in

- sometimes Mumza comes to visit, these are very bittersweet moments for Tommy

- he loves his mom, and he loves seeing her and seeing Phil happy to see her, and she usually takes him along on her next trip, ever so slowly teaching him how to be Death, but he also hates that that is his future

- he doesn't want to be the next Death, he doesn't want to outlive all of his friends and his brother, he just wants to be normal

- because of this, Tommy represses pretty much all of his godly powers, trying to seem as normal as possible, the one he represses the most is his automatic healing, when he gets hurt, he wants to stay hurt

- he represses everything so well that its years before Tubbo finds out that his best friend is a god

Ranboo

- Techno raised Ranboo more than Phil did

- (because of this, he’s the only kid who actually views Techno as his father. Despite him literally being their stepdad, the others see Techno as more of a brother or an uncle)

- Techno found Ranboo when he was around 12 years old on the edge of a warped forest in the nether (if you want some more nether-boys hc’s, check out this post)

- at that age, Ranboo hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet due to malnutrition, so he was much smaller than the average human 12 year old, and everyone thought he was around 8-10 (because of his memory issues, Ranboo thought the same thing until Tommy kept pestering him about when his birthday was and he remembered the year)

- Ranboo is brought into the family when he’s 12, Tommy is 11, and Wilbur and Techno are 17

- as I said before, Techno may have been 17 when he took in Ranboo, but he was definitely a father to this anxious amnesiac preteen

- because of his height, Ranboo is constantly slouching to fit through doorways, inside houses, and to make himself appear smaller, so he grows to need a cane

Tubbo (and Dream)

- street cat

- they fed him once and he just kept coming back

- sometimes he’ll disappear for a few weeks, but he always turns up eventually

- boy’s got some family issues, some real bad family issues

- his dad is Schlatt, who left him and big brother Dream to fend for themselves when he and Dream were 6 and 11

- luckily Dream has an excellent sense of direction and memory, and got them to Aunt Puffy’s current port before she pushed off on her next adventure (but not before getting briefly separated and making some friends)

- (the few weeks they spend separated are when Tubbo first gets found by Wilbur and Tommy and forcibly adopted by Phil, and Bad lures Dream home with food and he meets Sapnap)

- both boys have ram features - floppy ears, horns, etc., Dream also inherited their Aunt Puffy's rainbow hair (he dyes it blonde semi-regularly. It's dyed when he meets sbi, and Wilbur and Techno have the exact same reaction to it when they finally see his natural hair: relentless teasing. Like father like son amiright?)

- Tubbo and Dream are half brothers (same dad, different moms), Tubbo is 1/2 ram and 1/2 human, Dream is 1/2 human, 1/4 ram, and 1/4 what he and Sapnap think is demon (basically Dream had a human-ram hybrid dad, and a human-demon(?) hybrid mom)

- when Tubbo introduces Dream to his new brother-in-law, Dream feels a bit of a kindred spirit, but he quickly brushes it off

- Dream spends most of his time either with Bad, Skeppy, and Sapnap, or on the sea with Puffy, so Tubbo mostly fends for himself

- Tubbo is more than happy to fend for himself, he actually prefers it most of the time. He doesn't like people fussing over him and sheltering him, so whenever his mood switches and he decides that he does, actually, want some family time, he just appears on sbi’s front porch

- Tubbo first meets Ranboo when he comes to visit after a few months away. No one told him that Tommy was with Mumza for the weekend, so when he arrived at 3am, 2 days before he told Phil he’d be there, he just let himself in and threw himself on top of the sleeping figure in Tommy’s bed, only to be met with a startled enderman screech that woke the whole house

- (Ranboo was in Tommy’s bed because he might not be a part of the official Clingy Duo, but the boy is as clingy as they come. He regularly sleeps in his family’s beds, both when they’re home and when they’re away, because his sense of smell is heightened as an enderman and he needs to be surrounded in their scent when he misses them or when he’s feeling sad (especially because these are the only scents he knows, he doesn’t remember any of the scents from before Techno found him))

Big brothers being friends

- one day, after Tubbo’s near-constant raving about how great the Minecraft family is, Dream agrees to visit with him

- this visit happens to fall during the AE, so the only ones home are Wilbur and Tommy

- Dream and Wilbur take one look at each other and their similar situations in raising their chaotic, problem-child little brothers, and never let go

- the four of them live together for a good 5-6 months before Dream gets a letter and he and Tubbo need to leave

- after this visit, Dream and Wilbur stay in contact, and they visit each other even without their brothers around to drag them along

- I know I said that Wilbur makes fun of Dream for dying his hair, but that’s only in public

- in private, Wilbur confesses to Dream that he also dyes his hair, that his hair is naturally blond and he dyes it darker. After this, Dream and Wilbur start dying their hair together, it becomes something scheduled that they both look forward to immensely each month

- the next time Dream and Tubbo visit together, Wilbur is off with a water spirit who stole his heart (I refuse to write about fish Sally, fight me), and Phil is showing Ranboo some cool builds in his current hardcore world, so it's Techno and Tommy who welcome them in

- Techno starts out pretty hesitant of Dream, but Dream almost instantly is like

- "I'm gonna annoy the blood god into being my best friend"

- and whatever Dream sets his mind to, he achieves

- so the visit sort of ends with Dream and Techno making Tommy and Tubbo promise not to burn the house down, and leaving them home alone to go off to cause some chaos together

Father/son relationships

- As I said earlier, Phil primarily raised Wilbur and Tommy, and Techno primarily raised Ranboo, with Tubbo coming in and out like a feral cat

- to Wilbur and Tommy, Techno is more of a cool uncle who brings them valuable trinkets from his adventures, and they want to be like him one day

- Ranboo and Phil’s relationship is almost exactly the same as Wilbur and Tommy’s relationship with Techno

- when Techno brought Ranboo home, Phil pretty much decided that he had his hands full enough with raising his two chaotic boys, and he declared that it was finders-keepers, Techno found Ranboo, so he gets to raise him

- after L’Manburg, Ghostbur and Phil learn sign language, because the explosion blew out Phil’s hearing in his left ear, and Ghostbur’s so soft-spoken that it’s sometimes really difficult for him to hear his son speaking

For more random hc’s I have about these characters and the characters of the smp in general, check out this post

Some quick tags for people who commented on my post asking who wants this post, thanks for the support guys :’) @anotherweirdohere @haveadayasgreatasyou @jupiterjordan

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justactsupernatural · 3 years

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We’ll Never Leave You Alone Allie

Warnings: mental health issues, possesive behavior and implied murder

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He was their baby, their mother’s last gift before dying.

How could the world expect them to give him up?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Alan was three years old when their mother had died, having survived the avalanche that had threatened to take them both because of their mother’s protective embrace, taking the brunt of the snow to save the child.

After the accident, their father went MIA on them and focused solely on his work, leaving the five brothers to fend for themselves. This had a major effect on their whole dynamic, starting with the fact that the youngest Tracy needed constant care.

Scott grew up too fast for a boy his age, running himself ragged in his attempt to take care of his younger brothers. He helped with homework, with getting dressed, making dinner and breakfast, and keeping everyone alive. At only 13 this certainly wasn’t something he should be worried about, but with their father practically living at the office someone had to keep what was left of their family going.

Even though he was raising four younger brothers, he could always feel a deep connection with Alan. Granted, he had a connection with all of his brothers, but the youngest Tracy was different; the three-year-old was innocence itself and the little firework kept them all going during that dark time.

Which was probably why they all freaked out when the world threatened to take him away for the first time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The mystery car arrived at their around nine months after the funeral, it was a Saturday, and all the boys were in the house. Scott, John and Virgil were awake and picking up the discarded toys and dirty dishes of the night before while Alan and Gordon slept upstairs. Their father never got home the night before.

Scott had just finished putting the dishes in the dishwasher when Virgil called his name near the front door. Going to see what was up with his brother, the brunette left the kitchen and approached his nine-year-old sibling, John at his heels.

“There’s a car outside” said Virgil when the older boys got to him, pointing out the window to their front lawn where a car with that blasted symbol was parked. The woman coming out of the car had a folder on her arms and was making their way to the door, the sound of her heels unheard because of the distance but each step marking the beat of Scott’s heart.

Child Protective Services.

The lump in his throat was making it almost impossible to breathe. They were going to take his brothers away, tearing apart his family and giving them away like some kind of sick fair prize.

The curse that left John’s mouth told the oldest Tracy that he knew what the symbol in the car meant, even if Virgil didn’t. After telling the dark-haired kid to go to Alan and Gordon’s room and stay there until he was summoned, he turned to his other brother and told him to go unmake their dad’s bed.

John didn’t question him, he was smart and knew that if that woman thought their father wasn’t home enough they would be in big trouble. Someone looking at their private mess of a life wasn’t ideal, but Tracys aren´t stupid, nor are they weak and the threat to their brothers and what could happen to them if they failed was enough to motivate the both of them into action.

Going to the kitchen, Scott mentally steeled himself for what was to come and waited the few seconds it took for the woman to reach their door. Making his way to open it, only one thought was going through his mind: ‘I’m not letting them take my brothers away’.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everything had been going just fine, the woman looked around the first floor and asked some questions that both Scott and John handled perfectly, using the excuse that their brothers were sleeping to explain their absence. Creating scenarios where their father had been present in the last five months was easy when they were memories already existent, only slightly altered; the CPS lady seemed to be buying it and was about to leave when it all went wrong.

After spinning tales and asking well hidden questions, the brothers found out that a neighbor had called to make sure they were all right, out of worry that their father was neglecting them. While it was true, the anger Scott felt was indescribable and he thanked God that John had spoken some bullshit story about the person responsible for the call only wanting fame for “saving” the kids from their “evil, rich father”, because he would have yelled his heart out and probably would have blown the interview if he so much as opened his mouth to breathe.

She said her goodbyes and that they probably wouldn’t have to hear from her again, a blessing that Scott was willing to take and forget the moment she crossed the threshold.

But then Alan, sweet, innocent and blissfully ignorant to all the bad in the world Alan, came running down the stairs asking for Scott and came to a full stop in front of him, holding his pijama clad arms up, demanding to be held. Never one to deny his baby brother anything, Scott complied and picked the blonde up, letting him rest on his hips and turning to slam the door on the CPS agent’s face to get her to leave.

That was, until she decided to smile at Alan and turning to look at Scott with a questioning glance before asking if she could ask Alan some questions. Without any other option, the brunette gave a forced smile and nodded turning to go back into the living room, thanking that Virgil had listened to him and stayed upstairs with Gordon.

Sitting down in the couch with John at his side and Alan on his lap, Scott waited for the woman to sit down only to have her phone ring and her excusing herself to the kitchen to talk. But she was talking loudly, and Scott could clearly hear her saying words like “only a kid”, “taking him away” and “the Johnsons”.

By the tension in his redheaded brother’s shoulders Scott figured he heard it too. The Johnson family lived three houses down from theirs and had always been way too interested in the lives of others instead of their own. If they had been the ones to call CPS and Alan got taken away, he would make sure they paid.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the end, Alan fell asleep after only a few questions and the woman left, repeating that there were no problems and that she wouldn’t bother them again. With his heart trying to beat out of his heart, Scott closed the door and hugged the sleeping Alan closer.

And when he saw the Johnsons standing in front of their house, he talked with John and planned. They would pay.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Four days later the Johnson house burned down, a gas leak caused a fire, according to the firemen. No survivors.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There were many times when others tried to hurt or take Alan from them.

That one psycho nanny that their dad had hired, who though she could get rough with Alan and they wouldn’t find out. She tripped on the street and fell in front of a bus a week after they found out, Virgil telling the police what he saw before going home with news for their father that they would need a new sitter.

A business partner of their father’s who came to eat dinner at their house and made Alan cry after calling him stupid and pushing him out of his way. He had a heart attack that night; apparently, he had an allergic reaction to the piece of pie he had eaten in his house after dinner, the rat poison that had been on their kitchen in their neighbor’s trashcan.

The old man who cat-called Alan on the street when he and Gordon were on the mainland, getting some supplies for the Island. He was mugged and stabbed in an ally three hours later.

CPS again, saying that a nineteen-year-old could not be Alan’s guardian after their dad’s death. Tracy Industries had the best lawyers money could buy and the CPS agent in charge of their case had a newfound habit of driving drunk, according to the police after the car crash.

Their father, who tried to send Alan to school on the mainland and keep him away from them and the protection they could give him. His plane had crashed on its way to a meeting on New York, no survivors found.

Many others had tried, no one ever succeeded.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sixteen-year-old Alan was lying in bed, shivering and covered in blankets despite the fever running through his body. His brothers by his side, doing different things to keep entertained but keeping him company.

John was sitting on the beanbag at the right side of the bed, typing away at his laptop, probably working on his new book. Virgil and Gordon were playing Go Fish on the floor in front of the bed, making as little noise as possible as to keep from disturbing their sick brother.

Scott was on his left side, sitting next to him on the bed and putting a wet towel on his forehead. Standing up, he went to fetch the medicine when a hand on his wrist stopped him in his tracks.

“Where are you going?” asked Alan, looking up at his brother with scared eyes. His heart clenching at the sight of his miserable brother, Scott sat back down and ran a hand through the blonde’s soaked hair. ”I’m just going to fetch your medicine Sprout”.

“But you’ll be back right?” asked the teenager, looking up hopefully at his brother. Scott gave a soft chuckle and smiled at his baby brother before stroking his hair again.

“Of course I’ll come back” he answered, voice soft and reassuring “We’ll never leave you alone Allie”.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He was their baby, their mother’s last gift before dying.

Did the world really expect them to give him up?

#alan tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015

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remmushound · 3 years

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Curse of the Clan part 64!

Tags: @scentedcandlecryptid @selfindulgenz

The streets were alive with the presence of yokai, potentially thousands of them, all gathered where there would normally be humans. They didn't seem to be doing much of anything other than simply mulling around at a slow and casual pace, some of them in small groups happily chatting while others were on their own but just as happy. A few had even taken to sunbathing in the streets, sprawling themselves out on the hot asphalt to soak in the sun; the yokai didn't seem to discriminate between road and sidewalk when it came to exploring, treating it all instead as one big walkway.

“What’s going on?” Raphael asked, his lips pulled down in a frown. “Why are all the yokai out?”

Michelangelo was beaming ear to ear, eyes brighter than gemstones, “There’s no humans in the city! Well— except for April and Casey— so the yokai can come up and enjoy the sunshine! It’s a first for a lot of them; actual, warm sunshine!”

Donatello focused his goggles on the streets below, flicking from yokai to yokai to yokai. A mother rabbit trying to coax her four tiny babies out of the shadows they cowered in. An old kappa holding their beak to the sky with their eyes closed under the bliss of sunbeams. Two young avians wrestling, tumbling about in the streets much to the laughing delight of several nearby yokai.

“They seem to be enjoying themselves.” Donatello commented. “The weather is quite nice.”

“Come on!”

Michelangelo once more grabbed his brothers and urged them onward, down into the streets where they melted into the crowd of yokai without a second glance being cast their way, because they were normal in the eyes of all yokai and nothing to judge. The tight, suffocating nature of the crowd quickly thinned when they reached central park, where the yokai were just as plentiful but more spread out. Some of them had split off into tight family or friend groups, while others were wandering around, either going group to group searching for someone to embrace them into their fold or simply wandering to enjoy the day.

All around them wafted the lovely scents of grilling meats and the alluring, fruity temptation of beautifully assembled fruits. Multiple families shared each of the grills, as there wasn’t enough to go around, and mingled together to enjoy the combined meals. Michelangelo was quick to grow frustrated as his family slowed to gawk in awe at the different groups, Raphael practically drooling over the meaty spendor while Leonardo was more interested in trying to identify all the different yokai, and Donatello was furiously taking notes on their behavior and how they interacted.

Eventually they made it through the crowd and to the only grill that wasn’t already surrounded by dozens; this grill only had three people. Cassandra was setting out plating and snacks far too eagerly, fussing around to make sure it was perfect while April and Sunita were together at the grill. Raphael licked his chops to collect slobber that threatened to drip, so overwhelmed with all the different, meaty options that he got dizzy looking between all of them.

April laughed; she was in a beautiful sundress, her hair done up in braids with beads woven in between, tight against her scalp. She picked a shrimp from the pile and tossed it through the air at Raphael, who caught it in his mouth with a great big SNAP!

“That’s all, big guy.” April said, smirking as she pointed the meat fork at him, “Gotta wait for it all to be done.”

Raphael whined like a dog denied a second treat. Leonardo and Donatello both came up on either side of April to take advantage of the wafting aroma, breathing in deeply and then sighing out slow.

“Smells great!” Leonardo beamed, leaning his head on April’s shoulder.

“Damn well better.” April said confidently, “My mama taught me well!”

“She sure did…” Donatello drooled.

April produced two more shrimp and popped them into either of the twins mouths, making both melt with the euphoric juices.

“We saved the damn world!” April spun around, showing off her kiss-the-cook apron, “I’ll be damned if we ain’t gonna enjoy it!”

Leonardo's eyes wandered until they fell upon a familiar lump of gray in the river, drifting lazily by on an inflatable raft; a speck among a sea of visitors swarming the waters.

“Dad?” Leonardo gawked, and upon his realization all his brothers came to realize the same.

The brothers split apart from the girls and cautiously made their way down the rocks to the rivers shore, Raphael reaching out to snag Splinter’s raft so he couldn’t drift away from them. Splinter opened a lazy eye and snorted not unlike a horse disturbed from its slumber.

“Can’t a rat sleep in peace?” He grumbled.

Leonardo’s attention was drawn away from Splinter as motion under the water proved far more interesting. A tilt of his head and a refocus of his eyes brought him to concentrate instead on the beings under the water; aquatic yokai were swimming along under the rafts, creating a lazy-river of sorts for those floating on the top. They didn't seem to mind it at all.

“Where’d you get the raft, pops?” Raphael asked, giving a faint laugh, “Doesn’t look like any of ours.”

“That’s because it’s not.” Splinter said, reaching to tweak Raphael’s hand in such a way that he had no choice but to let go of the raft. The rat sank back into the plastic happily as he started to drift off again. “I traded it in exchange for stories! Yokai are the best!”

Four confused sets of eyes blinked and turned to Sunita for answers.

“Yokai are really big on trade.” Sunita said with a bright smile.

Michelangelo became suddenly aware of a gentle force tugging at his pants and, upon looking down, he was met with a tiny squid yokai. At first he didn't know what to do, but when he recognized the wide-eyes and child-like features, he kneeled to meet the child’s height.

“Hi!” Michelangelo said.

The child said nothing. He shoved something small and sticky into Michelangelo’s hands; a snail. A very small one.

“Ohh… thank you.” Michelangelo said, because he didn't know what else to say. “Domo arigatou.”

Still, the child said nothing. Instead, he pointed at the paints on Michelangelo’s chest and then at his own chest. It took a second before Michelangelo sucked in a gasp of realization and practically squealed his joy.

“Donald, I require my paints!” Michelangelo held out his snail-free hand out to Donatello.

Leonardo smirked and elbowed Donatello’s side. “He requires his paints.”

Rolling his eyes, Donatello obliged the request and he pulled the emergency paint kit out from his battle shell, passing it over to Michelangelo. The box turtles wasted no time in quickly ushering the yokai child to a nearby bench, a series of excited, high-pitched chirps sounding from him. From there, Raphael, Leonardo, and Donatello all split apart in search of a venture of their own in the yokai-filled park.

Raphael didn't get far before he heard a voice calling his name, and just as soon he was surrounded by powerful arms that heaved him up with no effort at all. Raphael’s initial instinct was to fend off an attack, but when the scent of the unseen Yokai came to him, he recognized it and began to laugh.

“King!”

King wrapped a massive arm around Raphael’s neck to keep him in a choke hold so he could repeatedly noogie the broad head. Raphael was eventually able to pull free, twirling around and tossing himself at King for a hug.

“I see my blessing worked.” King seemed to be practically glowing under the warmth of the sun, his scales a beautiful and vibrant mix of orange and red instead of the normal brown.

“Y-yeah, yeah!” Raphael nodded, a little breathless. “Yeah. Thanks again for that.”

“Was that your family?” King nodded back to where Raphael and his clan had just been gathered.

“Yeah— that’s my clan! And that’s my dad there on the river— he’s the rat.”

King nodded with a thoughtful hum. “I see your family is just as… colorful as mine. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for them if they’re ever on my side of the Hidden City.”

Raphael nodded an automatic nod with both hands on his hips. “Yeah I uh… thanks. I appreciate that.”

“INCOMING!”

Raphael looked up, confused at the shout and even more confused when he saw a fish falling right at him. King snatched the falling projectile before it could get very far, snaring it in his maw and giving a thankful grunt toward Koya as she flew once more away. King looked down at Raphael and held out the fish to him, which was still thrashing about trying to free itself from the yokai’s relentless grip.

“Oh— no thank you…” said.

King shrugged. He shifted down onto his belly, using his massive hands to pin the fish while he ripped its head clean off and gulped it down. The decapitated fishes body still struggled, which went without a bother from King as he lumbered away and over to Tang Shen who was soaking up the sun. Head bowed, he offered the rest of the fish to her and she accepted, eating it with just as much ferocity as her adoptive son.

Splinter crawled onto shore as his raft came around the bend of the lazy river once more, dragging it along with him as he went to Raphael’s side, staring at the cat and dragon duo with much the same expression as Raphael.

“Are they friends of yours?”

“Uh… that’s King. He gave me my blessing. And uh… that’s his mother Tang Shen.”

“Tang Shen huh?” Splinter eyed the cat curiously as she sucked the flesh from the bone and proceeded to rasp her tongue over the fishes skeleton to lap up any remaining flavor “What. A. Woman.”

#Yokai trade fair!#one chapter left ~

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justafewsmallsteps · 4 years

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Happy InuKag Week 2020, Day 6! It’s been literal years, but here’s finally Part 2 of The Problem With Thinking, my Inuyasha High School AU. Lots of love going out to @coquinespike for all the encouragement. Thanks for your patience! It’d probably be better to reread Part 1 (no big edits, but because it’s been SO LONG) but honestly it’s not a huge deal if you don’t. Lots of fluff. I’m sorry I can only offer the same bland AU over and over. Please forgive me and leave comments in the notes anyways?

So the fight was officially over and now they stood there holding each other. It was so intimate that it made the tips of his ears feel hot with embarrassment. Hard to believe that just this morning he was still avoiding her, yet now she was practically molded up against him, and there wasn’t a single part of him that wanted her to move away.

He was hyper aware that Kagome was so very close—closer than she’d ever been before. It was new territory. With their reconciliation, the bridge he thought he’d burn reassembled itself anew, and they’d crossed a line somewhere. What line, he couldn’t be sure.

A new burning filled Inuyasha’s chest, a fire that wanted to engulf her entirely. He’d missed her so much, and being away from her had drained him like a dying battery. He’d felt so tired, so void of any energy or drive, so… lonely. Now she was here, right here, and his whole body was thrumming with the desire to grab her tightly and hold on, to bask in her warm presence like a spring field finally coming out of winter’s harsh cold.

He saw the same look of longing reflected in her eyes. They were magnets kept apart until now.

He forced himself to speak, though his heavy tongue and heart protested the words as he spoke, “I should get you home.”

The sky was getting darker by the second. Her house was just down the street, but he’d worry too much if he let her go by herself. Besides, it was an excuse to stay by her side for a while longer.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”she asked with a hurt tone.

“What? No!” Inuyasha yelped. The opposite! He coughed and looked off to the side. There was no decent way to explain how he was afraid that the more she stayed by him, the harder it would become to let her go even though they only lived a block apart. He’d cut her off so thoroughly from his life, and now he realized it was like denying himself oxygen. How had he survived?

“Inuyasha?” She gripped his hands again to pull him from his thoughts.

“Huh?” he noised dumbly.

“C-can I…” Kagome wracked her short-circuiting brain for an excuse, any excuse to stay longer. “I don’t want to go home looking like this.”

“What?” You look fine, he thought.

She bit her lip. “Since my face is all puffy and my eyes are red. I don’t want Mama or Jii-chan to worry.”

“O-oh. You… Do you want to come up?” His eyes suddenly opened wide. “Not if you’re uncomfortable with that! I could get you a… wet towel or something.”

“It's okay. I’m fine with going up.” Kagome fought a blush.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded firmly, if only to keep from jumping up and down in glee. Success! How obvious would that be?

He replied with a stiff nod back. He swiftly turned around, dropping one hand from her grip but holding on with the other to lead her into the building. Their palms and fingers felt as if they’d fused together like hot glass. It was weird to imagine they’d have to come apart anytime soon.

As they walked past the metal gate and into the complex, Kagome’s eyes wandered to drink in the unfamiliar territory, but also to keep occupied. There was a tension in the air—some shy but persistent heat that sealed their mouths shut. Inuyasha was looking straight ahead avoiding looking at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do much differently than him. The fact loomed upon them: they were going to be in his apartment… alone. It was very new for them, and they’d only just gotten their problems solved. Her heart raced. She’d just found out she was in love with him. Maybe asking to come up was a bad idea.

Before she could think else of it, Inuyasha finished turning the key to his door. It opened with a small push, sending her stomach to do a cartwheel. The darkness inside fed her curiosity despite her nerves. She followed him in as the lights flickered on. Humble. Quiet.

It’s not like he has anyone to greet, she remembered. There weren’t decorations or frills—just the basic necessities.

Kagome removed her shoes, noticing how awkward it felt to do so with one free hand. Still, she had no intention of letting go.

“Uh, the… bathroom is over there.” Inuyasha gave a directional head gesture that had his ears twitch. “Is there anything you need?”

Her eyes dropped down to their locked hands. With a strange sense of concentration, she loosened her grip—at least she thought she did. It didn’t budge.

“Oh.” Inuyasha noticed the problem.

A voice yelled in his head. You’re an idiot. You can’t follow her in there! Let go!

With the care and hesitation of unwrapping a bandage, he moved his fingers to uncurl from hers. It felt like pulling apart linked chains. Their palms slid past each other, fingers sweeping to the tips. He would have let it go, but the slightest hint of uncertain, lingering pressure from Kagome had him stop in his tracks.

They froze. His eyes flickered to her blushing face, and he felt her fingertips squeeze his.

“In—“

The next second he yanked her close—his earlier desire to do so finally sated. He grasped the back of her head while his other hand wrapped around her wrist. Her contact against him felt like finally gulping air after drowning.

“Inuyasha?” the girl gasped.

Shit. He’d acted on instinct when he grabbed her. He had no idea what to say, and he felt the embarrassment bubble fast to the surface. She felt nice though, and he couldn’t deny that.

Kagome’s face pressed against Inuyasha’s chest, her mind drawing blanks as her cheek felt the heat of his skin beneath his T-shirt. His heart was racing, just like hers. It was reassuring.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He shifted the hand in her hair, letting the smell of lavender shampoo and Kagome’s natural scent fill his home.

Kagome’s free hand came up to hold him back gently, and she realized she’d been aching to do this since she laid eyes on him: to hold him in her arms, to pour out her affection, to be close.

“It’s fine,” she whispered, running her palm soothingly up and down a short length.

Inuyasha reflexively pushed her closer in an attempt to keep from shivering at her touch.

Her heart was still beating rapidly. How else was she supposed to feel when the boy she loved was hugging her so sweetly? It took a while, but after a few moments of silence, Kagome relaxed enough to speak.

“Inuyasha?” She squeezed him a little, somehow already comfortable with touching him so intimately. Funny, but it just felt right being close to him.

“Hm?”

She allowed herself to sink against his body, letting him hold up more of her weight. “Have you been doing all your homework?” It was a familiar question, bringing a sense of normalcy back to their dynamic.

“Uh…” he hesitated.

“Inuyasha…”

“I’ve been doing enough,” he responded vaguely. It was the truth, but he knew she wouldn’t like the answer.

Kagome clicked her tongue in disapproval. “That sounds like you’ve been slacking…”

“I got lazy without your naggin’.” Lazy. Frustrated. Uninspired. Angry. Depressed. Who was he kidding? When he wasn’t moping around he was trying his best not to punch walls.

The girl sighed. “I’ve been distracted too, so I’m not one to talk… Though I’m going to blame that on you.”

He scoffed, but the sound was soft. “You gettin’ all worked up over me…” Never mind that he’d been the same.

She poked him in the shoulder blade and dug her finger into it as a small jab. “Don’t be a jerk. I missed you a lot, dummy. I wouldn’t be here otherwise, looking like a total mess.”

In seriousness, he apologized. “I’m sorry.”

The sincerity of it brought tears rushing to her eyes so quickly she was defenseless against them. She was completely caught off guard, but if he was going to be that honest then she’d follow suit.

“Don’t do that to me again,” she had to whisper in a rush to keep her voice from faltering. If it sounded like a plea instead of a reprimand, there was nothing she could do about it.

“I won’t,” he swore. “I… please don’t cry Kagome. I can’t stand it. You know that. I don’t know what to do.”

“Just don’t be an idiot again.”

He held his tongue and let her calm down. His hand kept rubbing soothing circles against her back.

“Were you eating properly?” She finally sniffled with a frown.

“I ate. Not what you’d call ‘properly’ though.”

“You can’t just have three packs of ramen when you get home from school.”

“I can and definitely did.”

Again, she sighed. “We should go to the grocery store together. And I need to teach you how to actually cook.”

“I can fend for myself fine,” he retorted. After a beat he added, “But if you want to come over and make food, I’m not going to stop you.”

“I’d cook for you everyday if only to keep you from high blood pressure.” She pulled away in time to catch the shock on his face, and realized then that her words sounded like a proposal, like she could commit to taking care of him for the rest of her life. She felt mortified. It was too close to a confession!

“You would?” Inuyasha felt embarrassment splash him in the face like cold water.

“No! I mean, yes, but I didn’t mean that I… you… you know? I just want you to eat balanced meals! That’s all I meant, okay?”

Normally he would retort her sweet sentiment with something brash. He was marvelously good at ruining the moment. Instead he was frozen, looking at the girl in front of him with affection seizing his whole being like lightning, strong and inescapable. He was helpless as it coursed through every nerve in his body.

His silence had Kagome fidgeting.

“Inuyasha?”

He couldn’t move. He opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly, no words forming whatsoever like a dumb fish gaping for food. The idea of Kagome cooking him a meal… of her setting down plates, of her coming home to him… every day for the rest of his life…

The girl’s cheeks flared indignantly at his lack of response; heart thrumming nervously because it wasn’t a true confession, but it had the tone of something so much more—something akin to promising forever. She couldn’t take his surprised expression locked onto her so intensely, so she shoved her face into his shirt to avoid his gaze. Her hands gripped at his sleeves. She shook his arms hoping for a reaction and cried out, “Don’t just stand there staring at me! You have to say something, you dummy!”

He really should say something, he knew, but nothing was coming to his head. Nothing except Kagome, over and over again. Her in his kitchen, her walking down the road by his side, her eating meals with him everyday… When she told him to let her stay by his side, Inuyasha didn’t consider the actual depth of it. He’d simply taken it at face value. If she wanted to be around him, she’d decide that. The thought of her being there for him daily triggered something heavy to lock itself into place. It felt like she’d smacked an old machine and the gears finally fit themselves together. The realization came to him then.

He was in love with her.

Kagome felt his hold on her slacken. “Inuyasha?” she tried again, with a miserable tone to her voice. She was still mortified.

He released his steady hold on her wrist. Then he pried her hand gently away from his shirt, slowly easing his fingers between hers. The action was enough to get her to pull herself back. He’d never been very tender before.

His gaze was molten hot against hers, burning maybe, but she was caught in it like sweet, sticky honey. Her chest panged with how much she loved him. Couldn’t she just… reach up and show him? She tightened her fingers entwined with his. God, that felt so right. Her hand belonged in his.

“Kagome…” Her name was meant for his mouth.

Oh, he was so attractive, and she’d missed him so much. If she could somehow wrap herself up in him she would. His tentative grip firmed, lifting her hand closer. Her eyelids lowered while the rest of her body tilted up, up, and towards him.

Inuyasha was enamored. His entire world was swirling around Kagome as if she was the center of the universe. She very well might be, with him caught in her gravitational pull. He closed his eyes and saw black—and then he saw a star; faint and twinkling behind his eyelids, like the uncertain pressure lingering sweetly against his lips.

Then it was gone.

Slightly dazed, he opened his eyes to a blushing Kagome shying back from her kiss. Damn if he didn’t want to pull her to him again. A ‘wait, come back,’ on the edge of his tongue.

As if asking for permission, Kagome tugged at his sleeve and steadied her gaze on his mouth. He wanted to smile at her obvious signals, but a prick of paranoia had him stop her from moving towards him.

“Wait…” He watched as her courage was drained from her face and tried quickly to assure her. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I… I didn’t mean for this to happen when I asked you up, you know.��

“I know that,” she responded earnestly.

“Right…” he turned to look at the floor, trying to sift through his clouding thoughts gathering and darkening like a storm.

“So what’s the problem?”

“I mean, you know. That stuff,”

“The ‘stuff’ that people who don’t know anything say?” she asked.

“Well they ain’t that off if we keep at it,” he replied dryly, but there was a blush on his face. He’s just been kissed by Kagome Higurashi, the most beautiful, wonderful girl in the world. She would’ve done it again if he hadn’t held her back.

“Look, I don’t care. This is what I want. Do you…” she bit her lip unsurely and his knees almost buckled in, “Do you want this?”

Do you want me? Her eyes, clear and bright as a mid-summer day, seemed to ask him.

“Of course I do…” he confessed. There was more he wanted to say on the matter, or rather, more doubts that wouldn’t stop surfacing, but in the next moment Kagome had her mouth back on his, pushing his thoughts down to drown. He let them die there. Instead he let his world become so full of her that nothing else fit, and he’d never felt more put together than he was now, overflowing with her.

Kissing Inuyasha was something she’d dreamt about a lot lately, but not a fantasy she’d thought would come to fruition. It was different than she’d imagined, her body awkwardly stiff yet her heart soaring.

Attached, was the first word that came to Kagome’s mind.

That was how people described how Kagome felt about Inuyasha. She was fond of him. She had a soft spot for him. She was irrevocably and inexplicably attached to him. Now that they were kissing, she uncovered a new sense of meaning to that word. She’d been so attached to him that his absence felt like pulling her seams apart. Kissing him now was sewing them back together, but she still wanted to be closer. She stretched up on her feet higher, pressing her lips harder against his. Her goal was more, but of what, she wasn’t sure. More Inuyasha, somehow, in any and every capacity seemed to be the only answer. Her hands moved up his arms, slowly feeling the worn fabric of his shirt beneath her palms. Her cheeks flared with a new blush feeling the muscles beneath. She wasn’t just attached; she was attracted; she was in love. She loved him so much that it burned from her lungs to her lips.

Their mouths parted, and he huffed her name into the hot air between them. It was a match that set her ablaze. She intended to engulf him, so she kissed him harder. She wrapped her arms around the boy’s neck and drew him in close to her, wobbling between standing on her toes and back onto her heels.

Sensing her imbalance, Inuyasha tugged her by the waist to steady them both, but it had searing consequences as her body pressed into his. He heard her react with a sharp inhale and he hissed in response to her. So this is what happened when you got close to the sun, huh? He wasn’t melting, but he was burning everywhere they touched, and she scorched her way through him like a wildfire. They were moving so quickly his mind was whirling.

Kagome tilted her head, and Inuyasha felt the foreign sensation of her wet tongue swiping against his lip.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, and Kagome immediately pulled back startled.

“Sorry! I don’t—”

“No, it’s fine,” he muttered with winded effort. He took a moment to breathe, noticing Kagome’s chest similarly took deep rises and falls. The reality of what had just occurred between them settled in his mind. He wasn’t sure what to do next, but he wanted to continue.

“Was I… Did I go too fast or do something wrong?” She sounded so out of breath that his head spun.

“’Course you did nothing wrong,” he whined, putting his face in his hand and closing his eyes. He was more turned on than he’d ever imagined possible, and it was making him dizzy. “Just surprised me there.”

“Oh,” Kagome finally squeaked in response. She self-consciously folded in one herself.

He peaked through his fingers at the girl only to see her looking shyly down at the ground. Her kissed lips were set in a puffy little pout and her cheeks were a warm pink. Inuyasha groaned. She was beautiful and he was such a sap for her.

He was devastatingly in love with her. And he kissed her! And she kissed him back! And more!

He was having a hard time believing this was real.

“Maybe we did go kinda fast,” he admitted. He just couldn’t wrap his head around this whole thing. When did his life make a 180? Was he dreaming? When did his dreams ever get this good?

“Sorry,” Kagome mumbled.

Inuyasha sighed and lowered his hand. “Quit apologizing.” He tucked his finger under her chin to get him to look at her, but found the vulnerability behind her eyes almost too much to bear. He swallowed to fight the blush staining his face. “Just… gimme a sec, okay?”

Kagome nodded into his hand. He moved his face forward and pressed his forehead against hers, feeling her heat radiate against his skin. She was too much for him, he knew. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down—mind and body. He felt Kagome do the same, slowly relaxing into regular breaths.

This is real…

Delicately shifting, he pressed his lips to hers again, feeling her seize and then press into him. The awkwardness set back in, but they pushed through it and felt it out until it slowly melted away. He felt her exhales as sweet, warm puffs of air. They stayed like that for a while until Inuyasha took his hand and slid it to hold her cheek. He opened his mouth slightly and tilted his head to deepen their kiss. Kagome followed suit, letting him set the pace. They kept going, pushing lips together, adjusting, readjusting, and getting comfortable.

He felt her adorable eager little jump as he pulled her face closer, her hand coming up to grasp his shirt in a steadying motion. It was a swift pump to his ego to know she wanted this and was probably holding back.

He was getting turned on all over again, but it wasn’t as sudden as before. He took his time adjusting to each step forward, but Kagome didn’t make it all that easy with little gasps and the sweetest taste he’d ever experienced.

He’d always thought kissing was a gross concept. He wasn’t keen on saliva or using tongues, but the instant he felt hers on his lips he was convinced it was more than okay. Sure, it shocked him, but it felt good. Too good, at that moment, but now… Now he enjoyed the slight pressure of her sucking on his bottom lip, and the tease of her teeth as she did so. He enjoyed doing the same, shocking sensations prickling his spine with each new discovery. She was infinitely patient and understanding, letting him set their pace, and following suit.

Tentatively, Inuyasha sucked in a breath and dared to sweep his tongue against Kagome’s lips. He felt her eagerly part her mouth, inviting him to try again. This time he had taken the lead, but tremors still passed through his body as he tasted her, yet he was determined for more. She moved her arms up to wrap around his neck and pull him down. She must have been standing on her toes for a long time, he remembered. Kagome was petite, and he was over a foot taller if he stood up straight.

Ideas flash in his mind—making out on the floor, on a couch, him lifting her up to the counter… Oh damn. So much for calming down.

He grabbed her hips and moved her back just a bit, away from his lower body. It was achingly difficult to do so, since every part of him was screaming for contact with her.

She broke their kiss with a gasp.

“I should maybe think about getting home soon.”

A little more than dazed, Inuyasha did his best to recalibrate his brain. He felt the blood slowly making its way back there, but for now all his thoughts were hazy. Kagome. Home. Her house.

“Right…”

“And I should also still wash up my face.”

“Right…”

She giggled then, likely because he was still in a hormone-induced stupor. “I’ll be right back,” she assured him with a quick kiss to his cheek that left him feeling tingly. Then she was off to his bathroom.

As the door clicked shut and the buzzing sound of the restroom light came on, Inuyasha blinked himself back to reality. And it hit him hard enough that he had to sit down. He replayed the whole night in his head, wondering how the hell he’d gotten to this point. It was another miserable Friday punctuating a shitty week of dodging her at school. He got home feeling like garbage, only appreciating the weekend as a reprieve from having Kagome’s scent peppered in the air of the hallways and classrooms. His apartment was the one place he could lock himself away and not be haunted by her. But then the buzz came from the gate, and then her broken voice pleaded through the phone.

He came down just to end it once and for all. No more texts. He’d just have to scare her off and be done with it, but she was stubborn. She’d never let him push her around, so why did he expect her to let him push her away without a fight? She clung to him, dug into him, broke his resolve with her sad and angry tears. She’d missed him too. What did he do to deserve her?

A whine pushed its way past his throat, just in time for Kagome to walk out of the bathroom and shoot him a concerned look.

“You okay?”

It was weird, seeing her in his apartment like this, so casually as if she belonged there. She did, as far as he was concerned.

Filled with a new sense of determination and longing, he stood up resolutely and made his way to her. Before she could ask another question, he scooped her up in his arms and kissed her fully on the mouth. She gave an initial squeak of shock, but quickly accepted the new position, once again putting her arms around him.

“I missed you,” he admitted quickly before his unfounded resolve melted away.

“I just washed my face,” she teased as he lowered her back to her feet.

Incredulous he stammered, “That’s not what I—!”

“I know,” she interrupted. Kagome smiled, and Inuyasha’s annoyance vanished. “You don’t have to miss me anymore.”

#inukag week 2020 #inukag week #inuyasha #kagome higurashi #inukag #high school au #jelly art #jelly fic #justafewsmallsteps

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razorblade180 · 3 years

Text

OC test: Survive pt1

Each character has been split off from one another by hard light fields to form a circular ring divided evenly; with a safe zone in the very center. They can all see and hear each other, but that’s it. All characters will face grimm at the same time. The type of grimm is dependent on what will give that individual trouble. Once a character defeats their grimm, it is their choice to what zone they want to go to next to help. The test is over when a winner in every zone has been decided.

Aero:Anybody getting Saw vibes from this, or at least something sinister?

Kovu:It did say “a winner” meaning the grimm might own us.

Summer:Remember the good old days where a test was make breakfast? I do...

Veronica:Just don’t fuck up and you’ll be fine. I’m ready for everything!

Sienna:Aren’t you technically a civilian?

Veronica:Pfft, I can still kick butt. I’m a Xiao Long!

Jacquelyn:I think the test is beginning.

Yujin stretches out her wrists and grabs her sword. It was soon after that ten pools of grimm opened up with Ursa Majors clawing out, fully armored and foaming at the mouth. One final pool had a King TaijituYujin wasn’t expected anything less, yet she was still upset. “I am sick and tired of these stupid things! Why all at once!?”

“Because it’s called survival...” Tenzen said, witnessing dozens of baby deathstalkers marching towards his as hives of lancers swarmed above. “Guess I’m playing exterminator...” he syched himself up, before a Beringel came stampeding in. It beat on it’s chests and let out a roar. “And....fighting baby King Kong...”

Jael hadn’t wasted any time making headway on her test. She knew herself pretty well and what she could handle. That still did not entirely prepare herself to fend of eight fully grown manticore in aerial combat. “So this is a manticore? Yeah, about what I expect .” She said , dodging their fireballs. “Air or land, they seem pretty dangerous. Guess I got no real advantage, yet.”

Sparrow was on the ball. Military training served him well. Armed only with an Atlesian pistol and a fishing rod, he controlled the battle ground. His mother had taught him long ago what his limits were and how to make up for them. A single Sphinx flew down to swipe at him. The young man back stepped and shot a high powered round at its foot. The beast roared before trying to fly.

“Oh no you don’t!” He casted the line right in the Sphinx’s mouth and yanked back down on the injure foot. “You’re gonna move the way I want you to!” Another round hit its front paw, making the creatures spin around, using its snake tail. Sparrow had already dropped the line and cought the second beast. He didn’t hesitate to press his gun right to its eye and blow up the head of the...tail. “Whoo! Still got it!”

While several of the kids quickly understood their enemies, others were left a little perplexed. Sienna was one of these people. “Uhhh I know Remnant is a big place, but since when do grimm look like roaches?” She stuttered.

The question got many to take a glance. Yep, roaches, but not the small kind. These roaches looked on par with the size of house cats. The black insects with bone white wings scattered around the floor. Several stood on two legs while grinding their human-like teeth together that made a shrill noise Sienna found personally irritating. The only Kovu alone seemed to grasp that situation.

“Don’t run! Walk in big circle! They’ll be huddled up that way!” He shouted. Sienna followed his instructions without question. The heard of roaches began following her on two legs while the others reached outward.

“Ohhh don’t like that!” Sienna looked at Kovu with a look that said, “what I’m the actual hell” very apparently. “Kovu-”

“They’re called Feasters. Do not let them swarm you and do not run! They will get on all of their legs and be much faster. Also don’t jump! They fly; just whack them with your chain.”

Sienna did just that. “I hate this I hate this I hate this, they’re so many! And that stupid noise!!!! Agh, my ears!” She winced. A second of stopping prompted the infestation to lunge at her like a wave. Sienna quickly tumbled backwards and kept walking. The last thing she wanted was for those things to take a bite of her. All things considered though, this was manageable. The benefit of no semblance she supposed. “How we looking everyone?”

“Peachy!” Veronica yelled, rider kicking a Tar Maw, a voracious gator like grimm that had a bond white back with black carvings. It’s red eyes glared and the tar black underside dripped like a leaky faucet. The sixteen foot beast opened its gaping mouth, hurling up grimm fluid before diving into it and through the ground subsequently; as it the dirt itself has become as flowing as water. Veronica phased through the ground to try and hit it from underneath but was shocked to see the beast diving down for her. Along with two more smaller but equally dangerous Tar Maws. Quickly, Veronica shot upward through the ground and into the air to barely avoid the the creatures that burst through the ground almost as forceful as her.

“As if one wasn’t enough.” Veronica snarled. Her body rolled forward midair to deliver a swift axe kick to one of the grimm’s hid, knocking it into the others. “I think Summer and I finally agree on something! I miss breakfast tests!”

“Glad you see it my way...” Summer groaned, watching a Arma Gigas rise. She looked over to her brother’s section to see the same exact expression of annoyance. Of course he had one as well. Nick looked at her as if she could do anything about it. “I know, it sucks.”

“Royally.” He added. Nick armed himself with Mort Froide and placed 15 upright ice glyphs around it in a diamond formation. His next move was summoning a gigas blade in his left hand before running towards the emerging knight that has yet to form from the shins down. With limited options it swung its blade which Nick proceeded to jump onto an continuing his charge towards its face. “I’ve killed one before. I can do it again!” Nick jumps at the face to slash it but is knocked back by a headbutt. Fully formed, the gigas bends its knees to prepare a jumping slash. However, blades of ice rockets out of the glyphs, wedging themselves between the knees and ankle armor space to stall movement long enough for Nick to recover. He runs his head and grunts, “Gah, okay. This one has a bet more heft. Noted...”

Valerie watched her two closest friends head off to fight their grueling challenge. “Always setting the pace.” She faced forward towards a fresh Nucklevee, free of any armor but still big enough to be a problem. “What, is this some kind of generational test? Too bad dad isn’t here. He’d love this!” Valerie leaped forward, twirling her battle axe before smashing it into the ground to break up the floor. “Can’t let move easily.” She leaped again.

The Nucklevee shot it’s arms out into the crushed floor and then upwards, it’s hands full of rocks. They flew up and over Valerie before crushing the rubble. A cloud of dirt and debris rain down and struck her back, throwing her balance off. Both arms came plummeting downwards to wrap her up and slammed them into the earth.

“It’s thinking!? But it’s new!” Valerie struggled trying to break free of the elastic grasp. “Huh?” She looked up to see the horse mouth exhale a plume of black smoke along the floor and headed right to her. “That’s not good...” through pure strength and will, Valerie got to her feet and started pulling with all her might. The arms wiggled and where dragged up from the ground but would not break. The fog crawled closer and closer until the edges of it began stinging her skin on her ankles like fire. “Gah! Aw screw it!” She yelled, taking a deep breath and releasing the tension of her struggling. Her entire body slingshotted forward through the smoke and to the best, striking it with a double kick to the skeleton like face. It’s arms finally loosened enough for her to escape. She went to sever an arm until the beast turned around and struck her with it’s massive hind hooves. Val tumbled back and onto her legs. A strange numbness and pain resided in her ankles. Moving felt...odd. Valerie looked up to see the fog continue to spread and the beast beginning to charge. “Tsk..” Maybe it was best her father wasn’t here after all?.

In a other section, a much better circumstance was taking place for Lucas. The man effortlessly weaved around the onslaught of razor sharp feathers, bouncing some back to clip the Nevermore wings that sent them. It helped, but only a little considering he was dealing with an entire flock. Multiple enemies that used a wind ranging attack with multiple projectiles. Quite the headache for one who sees the future. So he did what he always did, not even try.

“One thing at a time Lucas. This moment, right now.” He said to himself as more feathers rained. He transformed his blade into a whip and began flailing it to deflect only what he could see and hear coming his way. The moment he found an opening he would swimg the whip around the bird’s neck and yank it down for him to cleave it. A simple strategy, effective. However, it was time consuming. Not a problem for him specifically, but his mind could only think about the people around him. He hadn’t been paying close attention to all of them, but the screaming grimm he could hear outside his zone let him know they weren’t all getting lucky in this test. “EVERYONE OKAY!?”

“NO!” Aero cried as he crashed to the ground, his wings covered in webs. The flexed it off the best he could while avoiding Soul Suckers, enormous spider grimm that had a real bad habit of draining aura and turning people into soulless husks that were robbed of will. Seven of the bastards shot dense web at him in an attempt to do just that. Aero spread his wings and slammed them towards the ground, rocketing himself upward with one powerful flap. “I AM NOT EQUIPPED FOR THESE!”

“They have spider grimm!?” Lucas said with concern. “That’s just sadistic...”

“You’re telling me!?” Aero looked over to Mona’s section, who was dealing with a single Goliath. Her spry nature allowed her to maneuver around its legs, quickly attacking. Unfortunately she was up against a Goliath. Simple daggers might as well be paper cuts. “You hanging in there Mona!?” He asked before having to dodge more webs.

“Worry about yourself Bird Boy!” She yelled sprinting. Mona went into a one armed hand spring onto its trunk and rolled onto its back, sliding down it with her dagger running through it shallowly before hitting armored bone; killing her momentum and hurting her shoulders. “Shit!” She winced. She yanked her blade out and jumped off as the Goliath’s trunk tried grabbing her. “Uuuggh this big bitch might as well be made of clay!” She pulled out her second dagger and took one giant lunge that sent her flying like a bullet. Mona began spinning like a sideways buzz saw as she went by the grimm’s left and right leg, making an average size gash. Not enough to cripple it but enough to piss it off.

The thief couldn’t stop her speed correctly and ended up tumbling along the ground and barely missing a tree. Her head buzzed loudly and her vision blurred enough to not realize the two ton monster charging until it was severely feet away. “Oh f-” she tried blocking. The tusks were aimed right for her blades but suddenly, her entire body was shot up in the air and away from the attack. “Aaah! What the heck!?”

“Stop screaming!”

Mona was spun around to see Eliza hovering with the power of wind. “How the- you finished!?”

“Yeah I had those gross centipedes and a couple annoying alphas with majors as well.” Eliza said. She causally pointed behind her to a zone charred beyond belief. “My semblance was useless so I had to go all out from the start. Guess you’re in a similar situation? Let’s waste this thing.”

“Hmm you’re lucky I like the way you look. I’ll take you up on that, not that needed help.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe I should’ve checked in with Kovu!” She looked his way. “But considering with Carmine said I’m sure his challenge-”

“oPeN UuuP...” gurgled a cold, torn voice. One that reached all ears, freezing grimm and human alike. It came from Kovu’s section. There the young man sat pinned and shaken up. Nothing but the dust barrier against his back and his own bubble-like barrier in front of it, constructed from his golden aura. The thing gnawing it, a very big and very aggressive Hound. It’s teeth grated against the aura, barely cracking it but cracking it nonetheless. “oPeN UuuP...”

Kovu’s face dripped sweat. His arms were completely stiff from trying to maintain his gaurd. “Guys, I don’t want to sound needy, but...” he grunted.

Several of his friends began working harder on their matches. Yujin and Veronica in particular had a fire lit inside them to make sure Kovu would be okay.

“Hang on Kovu!” Yujin yelled. “Just give me a bet of time and-”

“I thought you wanted to be a huntsman?” Carmine interjected, gaining Kovu’s attention. “I thought you wanted to try and catch up to me, but you’re asking for help this quickly? Not only that, but now you’ve caused others to worry more about you which could make them rush and make a mistake that’ll be disastrous. Hmm, I thought better of you than that.” She said bluntly.

He said nothing. Veronica on the other hand. “Hey!” She had a few words. “Isn’t that your cousin!? You of all people should be-”

“Worried?” Carmine finished. “I’m not saying I’m not, but I’m more worried about the thing behind me, I’m case none of you payed attention.” Carmine looked over her shoulder to the massive grimm pool that all but filled the entire area and continued to flow.

Of course nobody else noticed. It wasn’t big enough to caste a shadow over them all until this moment. Once again eyes looked to see the danger but it was their ears that heard it before anything else. A deafening roar that shook the ground like a disaster. Carmine fully turned around to look at her opponent. It was cruel. Downright evil to the letter. What could she have possibly done to earn-

“Leviathan!?” Tenzen yelled.

“I know right? It’s ridiculous.” Carmine said, a bead of sweat running down her head. “I rather switch with Jacquelyn.”

“Hehe, is that a fact?” She laughed nervously, witnessing the creation of a fully realized dragon staring her down as the shook off excess fluid. Yet another huge thing that nobody but Carmine was aware of apparently because they were once again floored. Not necessarily at the beasts even though they were scary, but because that was two people’s test!”

Yujin looked briefly at Carmine in awe. “You can take down Leviathan!?”

“What? Hell no! Are you crazy!?” Carmine said, unapologetically. “That thing is a kingdom killer! Look it’s flattering that you all seem to think I’m super badass but you do know I’m one person right?”

“Well when you say it like that I sound stupid. Didn’t Ruby beat one of those?” Yujin said, dodging.

“My mother flashed her eyes while a giant robot sucker punched it with a drill. Her eyes didn’t even do much but make it stuck for three seconds. Nobody just beats a Leviathan!” Carmine brandished her sword to face it. Her eyes looked back towards to see her cousin still struggling. “....Did you all know Kovu has never beaten me in a fight? He’s always been a pretty average fighter. That being said, I could never knock him out or keep him down for long. He’s resilient as hell. Almost like surviving is his special talent.”

“Carmine...” Kovu uttered.

“Surviving doesn’t mean winning. I’m definitely not about to win this and I doubt Jacquelyn over there is coming up with a grand slam plan to solo a dragon. Buying time though, I can do that all day.” The leviathan shot out a breath of immense flames. Carmine dove out of the way immediately. “Do not make me do this all day. I’m tired. Twenty minutes at best. More than enough time for anyone to lend a hand and then some, right?” Without another word, she got to work.

Carmine was an odd ball. If she had said anything like that to a stranger, it may have come off as rambling. But those around her in this test, they got the girl’s message. Kovu most of all, while Jacquelyn understood from the start given her enemy. Twenty minutes. Nobody was to aid her for that long or to worry. Carmine had temporarily removed herself the equation. One less thing for other’s to worry about.

“Twenty one.” Kovu said. “I got this mutt right where I want him for twenty one minutes.” Sure he was being optimistic, but this barrier bursting wasn’t game over right away. Like Carmine said, he was resilient.

Jacquelyn couldn’t help but smile. Part of it was the touching pep talk. The other was nervousness because no way was she about to put herself before kids. “Ah what the hell. I’m the winter maiden. A badass one at that. Thirty.” Her eyes glowed.

“Of course they want to out do me” Carmine chuckled. Alright everyone, nothing fancy! Those who know they can win, will. All others, do this test, survive!

Finally the stage was set. Everyone was on track. “Right!!!”

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years

Note

Maybe a story about Norman being a good parent?

Summary: Mindless beast or not, the Projectionist was a Polk, and the Polks did not hurt their young, or whatever they perceived as such.

You all knew it was coming inevitably...

---

[[MORE]]

Norman's and Margarite's marriage had come as a surprise to the entire Polk family. A simple signature on a piece of paper, and a pair of battered rings that had belonged to Nanna and Poppop Polk (gifted to him by the former who always knew he'd be a better fit for them). No fanciful ceremony with pretty dresses or suits, expensive cakes and extensive guest list.

A disappointing waste, his mama had proclaimed over the letter she'd sent as a reply to his own that detailed his status as a married man in a far off city. She'd wanted to witness the event, shed her motherly tears as one of her little ducklings became a real man ready to start a family.

But, to Norman and Maggie, the marriage wasn't a motive of celebration like his mama thought. It was insurance against further discrimination towards them. They were, after all, the black couple that lived in a quaint apartment in New York city.

Already that was a challenge of its own, as said apartment was populated primarily by white hot-blooded tenants, with only one more laying vacant for a (hopefully) friendlier family.

Their downstairs neighbor clearly hated them from sight alone, and the others were unsure how the new additions fit into their "perfect" lives in the Big Apple. If any of them were to discover that they both enjoyed the full spectrum of the gender binary, well... Accidents happened in the big city. Accidents that targeted specific minorities for some "unfathomable" reason.

So yes, as shameful as it may be, their wedding was strictly business. Rings for show, public displays of affection to dispell the gossip, and overall just the usual married life arguments in the grocery store to sell the deal (neither of them could care less about which type of sugar made the best apple pie crust, or what brand of soap was better, but it sure made the couples they passed by smile knowingly at the common domestic disputes). There was just one thing left to do to really make a statement on their relationship status.

"Three of my coworkers are getting maternity leave. It's been a few months, I think it's time."

Children were a sensitive topic. Both Norman and Maggie wanted kids, had a vague idea of how many they planned to raise, and were quite certain they'd make beautiful and healthy younglings with one another. The question was: Was it fair to bring in chidren into a farce of a matrimony? What if one day they found their actual ideal partner?

"Yous better be sure it's the right time darlin'..." He'd urged her to think more on the subject. "Don't want to rush things like that now, do we?"

"I'm ready." She'd stared him in the eye with a certainty and confidence he couldn't begin to imagine. He knew she was, but was he? Was he truly ready to bare such a responsibility?

That night he relented to her wishes and they had finally consummated their marriage. Nine months later, little Nancy was born a small but relatively healthy baby. Upon seeing his firstborn for the first time ever, and then holding her gently in hands that dwarfed her little head greatly, Norman immediately understood he was ready to be a parent. And a loving one at that.

In total, Norman and Maggie had five children. Three boys and two girls. Nancy was their eldest child and the more levelheaded of the bunch. The apple of her mother's eye, and her father's baby girl, she was the perfect balance of their greatest qualities and teachings. A clever and determined young girl with big aspirations for her future. She wanted to be a doctor.

Aaron was the second eldest child and the one most like his father. Clever and with an eye for detail, enough so that he had taken up an interest that fits his perceptive nature: Photography. The walls of the Polk household were filled with his works, at first done with Norman's own old and battered camera, until he'd bought the young lad his very own fancy new model.

Louise was the middle child, and the troublemaker of the bunch. She was a bit of a tomboy, and liked to scrap with the boys in her class, to the point where it wasn't uncommon to see her with several bruises and band-aids, and haphazardly taped wireframed glasses. She kept both Norman and Maggie on their toes.

Albert was the second youngest and the quietest. A little bookworm that appreciated the art of literature over anything else. He wanted to be a novelist, even at a very young age, and often shared ideas for stories at the dinner table. There was no doubt in Norman's heart that his little boy would write a best-seller one day. Maggie fretted for his social life, however, as he was the least sociable of their children. Far too shy.

Finally the youngest child was Willard. An outspoken young toddler that was definitely as confident as his mama. A little tot with a very big personality indeed, that Norman couldn't wait to see grow up into yet another fine young boy. If any of their children was to ever get what he wanted in life, it'd definitely be Will.

Truly there was nothing in this world that Norman loved more than his offsprings, and indulging in their interests was always an adventure. One to be shared with three other members of the family.

The vacant apartment had been occupied by Norman's younger brother, Alfred, and his own two children. By then almost all their neighbors (minus the one that hated them from day one) had warmed up to them. So another set of friendly faces was a good addition to their home life.

Norman absolutely loved watching over his nephew and niece, especially because his children were delighted to have other kids around their age to play with.

It reminded him of being back home in Louisiana, his own brothers and sisters sparring with him and playing whatever games they could come up with on the spot. Watching Louise and Nelson tumbling about fighting as equally dirty as the other, really stirred up some good memories he had of his older sisters.

"Bite her Nelson! Bite her!" Lydia cheered as her older brother pinned their cousin to the ground.

"Louise tug on his ears! Pummel him!" Aaron called out to his little sister, encouraging her to fend off her opponent.

"Lydia and Aaron! What I tell y'all 'bout encouragin' yous's siblings t'fight all nasty?!"

"Not to...?"

"Exactly."

Granted some play-fighting needed to be monitored when most of the audience were enablers, and neither his middle child nor his nephew had any qualms sending each other to the hospital. They were still learning about consequences after all.

Still, there wasn't anything else in the world that built better character than teaching the children that they were equals to one another in all their shared activities. Respect was an important lesson to be learned. One Norman wished every parent taught their child.

The world would be a better place otherwise...

Sometimes the Projectionist would inevitably be unable to fend off sleep. The exhaustion would wear it down and give way to the nightmares of a life it could barely remember. Then it would wake up and scream, trying to rid itself of heinous visions of itself ripping its offsprings apart.

Norman Polk would reawaken inside its brutish body and lash out, hoping to either physically fight away his own broken psyche or perhaps cripple the Projectionist so that it could never fulfil these dreamt up acts of violence.

A Polk was all about family, and the thought of becoming the sort to bring harm upon his own children... Well, Norman had heard the stories. Knew why Poppop was such a taboo topic. He did not want to be the man besides his Nanna in the portrait above the fireplace... One he'd resembled if his eye wasn't wrong and he'd grown out his beard...

The Projectionist didn't have the mental faculties to understand this distress however, but it seemed to recognize that what it saw in dreams was bad. That what it did to the vermin, it should never do to those innocent little youngsters that looked at it with love instead of fear and hatred. So... Why did it do it in dreams? Why did it kill when it wanted to be docile? The children were not a threat, so why...?

It made no sense... But it didn't much care for elaborate existential crisis like that. Norman's consciousness would freak it out, but ultimately loosened its grip and go back to being dormant. The lumbering beast resuming its tiring trek through the endless maze. A cycle that would repeat itself the next time it fell asleep.

It was in the aftermath of yet another nightmare that the Projectionist came across something completely new to it. Something small and living, and very much intruding on its space. Something that very vaguely looked like it...

A living being with a body similar to the ones the horrible botched critters that ran around in packs had, yet with no visible imperfections to it. Its head though... It was kind of like a projector, but not. Square in shape, with a lens, a tube, dial and something very round that kind of looked like a big ear. A camera, like the one Aaron had gotten for his birthday.

It seemed to have gloves, shoes and a belt that sort of looked like the speaker lodged in the Projectionist's torso, but it was hard to tell since the strange being was on the ground flailing about like a dying fish.

The towering amalgam stared at the tiny new thing in dumbfounded silence, unsure how to react to such a strange discovery, until it realized why the thing was flailing about to begin with.

One of its legs was pinned under a crate that appeared to have fallen from a nearby stack, and the Projectionist could tell the limb was broken. Nearby lay a series of Ink Hearts that had been resting on the fallen crate.

On any other occasion it would have simply walked over, raised one heavy foot, and crushed the intruder's skull for daring to try to steal from it. This time however, was completely different... Something primal was urging the Projectionist to do something completely alien to its usually aggressive nature. Something instinctive.

The poor creature grew agitated upon finally noticing the Projectionist's presence as it approached, but its broken limb ensured it stayed put even after the crate was picked up and tossed aside. It shook fearfully once the Projectionist knelt down to pick it up by the torso. It stopped shaking once it was brought to rest against the much larger beast's chest, cradled gently like an infant. The Projectionist rumbling softly so as to reassure it that no harm would befall it.

The little creature, with a head that was not a projector but a distant relative of a sort, stared up with its own dark lens before reaching out to gently pat the Projectionist's "face". It seemed to understand its intention to help it, rather than exterminate it.

The lumbering beast carried on in its path, now carrying a most precious cargo. It would find something to help treat the injury and then it would begin teaching this newly adopted offspring to survive in the studio.

Mindless beast or not, the Projectionist was still a Polk, and the Polks cared for their younglings. This tiny sentient camera was its child now, and the beast would protect it from the horrors of this horrid studio.

#eps writes:#bendy and the ink machine #batim #norman polk #the projectionist #cameraman

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kaen-ace-of-diamonds · 4 years

Text

Hatchling

Word Count: 2100+ (oneshot) [AO3]

Genre: Friendship/Family

Characters: Zuko, Sun Warriors, Ran and Shaw, Druk, Azula, Mai, Azula’s Therapist (mentioned)

Summary: Just when heading the Fire Nation seems to be a manageable task, Zuko finds himself saddled with a duty that no human has been given in over a hundred years.

Written for volume one of the Tales of the Four Nations @atlazine

~0~

There was very little that surprised Zuko nowadays.

After five years, he had settled into the role and routine of being Fire Lord. True, it felt as if the reparations to the other nations and the restructuring of the Fire Nation itself was an endless process. At the signing of the global armistice treaty, a dam of sorts had been broken, and he had been flooded with all the demands and protests and vitriol that could be expected from a world ravaged for a century, and at the end of the struggle, left confused as to who had really won.

His father’s court had been no help, being more interested in scrambling to maintain the power they had enjoyed as the spearheads of a conquering empire that had so abruptly fallen to peace. Over the course of the first year or so, he had ended up having to displace or imprison the majority of them, had even fended off assassination attempts from them. Not that they were the only ones who wanted his head on a pike, but that didn’t make it any better. Were it not for his newfound friends, his quickly married and anointed Fire Lady, and the few younger generals and courtiers that acted for the nation’s best interests and agreed with his way of doing so...Zuko wasn’t entirely certain that he would have been able to keep his head above water.

The tide had ebbed somewhat now. But only somewhat. After a morning of audiences in the throne room (none too pleased about anything, Zuko thought), he was now in for an afternoon full of documents to process. He’d slogged through to the point where his right hand was beginning to cramp up, and yet he could still barely see over the piles of loose paper and scrolls on the spacious desk in front of him. He groaned, rubbing his face with the hand still holding the brush, and resolved never again to make fun of anyone who complained about dealing with “mountains of paperwork.”

So engrossed had he become in his work that he didn’t notice the one different scroll until it was suddenly being dangled like a fish hook in front of his face.

“Gah!” Zuko jerked back so hard he bonked the back of his head on the golden frame of the chair. “Ow!”

“Having fun, Your Majesty?”

He looked up, startled, at the armored figure leaning up against his chair. “Oh...Hi, Azula. I thought your appointment with Dr. Zhihao was today?”

“It was. It ended two hours ago.” Azula gestured with the scroll to the small office window, and its near-perfect view of the sun already halfway below the horizon. “I’m surprised your eyes aren’t bleeding.”

“Ugh, but they sting,” Zuko sighed. “Please tell me your day’s been at least more exciting than mine. I...What’s the word? Let me live vicariously through you.”

Azula sighed theatrically. “Some elite guard. These new trainees are positively useless.”

“You’ll let them live, though, right?”

“No promises, Zuzu.” He started to protest and she promptly bopped him on the nose with the scroll. “None!”

He batted the paper away, laughing all the same. Another thing he’d thought impossible that had become real after all: the chance to reconnect and laugh with his sister again. “So who’s that from? Kuei? Hakoda?”

“Does this look like the Earth King or Water Chief’s seal? Read for yourself,” she said, unrolling it before his face.

It was blank, with an unfamiliar wax seal of four claws. Zuko squinted at it, puzzled, and was about to comment on it, when something occurred to him. He gave the air another sniff: Yes, that was lemon.

Zuko brought a lick of flame to his finger, and held it up to the paper, revealing the archaic characters painstakingly written in the invisible ink. “...The Sun Warriors need me now, too?! What for?”

“They don’t say. And they didn’t ask me along this time. So I suppose you’ll have to find out yourself. Kazan will be saddled and ready for you in the morning.”

Zuko sighed. “Would it be too much to hope that they’re offering me a break?”

“Oh, absolutely. But Mai will hold things down in your stead, in the meantime. And no one would dare cause trouble with me to keep this palace in line. Speaking of which, while you’re there...” With a flick of Azula’s hands, the candles and torches around the room flared to life in brilliant blue and white flames. “Tell Ran and Shaw hello for me, would you?”

“I’ll pass along the message. You know, I’m sure they’ll be happy to hear how well you’re doing since we visited them.”

Azula smirked. “I should hope so. And remember that you’re to be the best image possible of the modern Fire Nation to them. I expect they still hold a degree of distrust towards us; if we’re ever to reestablish a formal connection with them as a nation, that would be a nice thing to do away with.”

“Yeah, I’ve got the hint.” Zuko pushed back the chair and stood up, raising his arms and stretching hard enough to elicit several satisfying cracks from his spine. “Secret business trip, here I come.”

~0~

He appreciated how well the royal kennel’s training accustoming their animals to any kind of environment had worked for their beloved pair of tigerwolves; Kazan and Ikari had slept calmly in Appa’s saddle for his and Azula’s journey here three years ago, despite the altitude, speed, and no doubt the smell of prey. Aang and Appa were unavailable for a ride this time, so Kazan spent the journey across the ocean curled up and snoozing in the corner of Zuko’s small and speedy private boat. By the time they reached land, Kazan was fully up to the lengthy gallop through the rainforest to the domain of the Sun Warriors.

He didn’t know what he was expecting when he finally reached the indicated gathering place, dismounted, and joined them. But it certainly wasn’t Chief Huo Shan hurrying up to him and interrupting his formal greeting, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him further into the temple, downward and forward. Kazan gave a puzzled whuff and trotted along at his master’s heels.

“Ch-Chief?! Uh...If this was an emergency, I — “

“No emergency, Fire Lord! But urgency, all the same!” It came to Zuko’s attention then that Huo Shan was smiling.

It wasn’t long before their rushed journey ended, and found them in an enormous torchlit chamber, larger and higher even than his own throne room. It was lined by dozens of beaming Sun Warriors, with an only slightly less enormous mass of glowing coals. Both the room and the mass were still just barely big enough to fit their occupant, Shaw, who was coiled up quite comfortably on the burning heat. Ran was standing upright behind the coals, alert and eying the newcomer imperiously. Zuko has only met the pair three brief times including this one, so he wouldn’t call himself the best in interpreting dragonish expressions, but it seemed to him that both of them were looking extremely pleased with themselves.

He squinted, trying to see what it all meant. “Is...this a ritual of some kind?”

“Not an official one, but certainly cause for celebration.” Huo Shan’s mouth was open to say more, but before he could fully explain, what appeared to be one of the red-hot coals darted out from the pile and straight at Zuko. “Oh! He wants to demonstrate himself.”

“Demonstr — Whoa!”

Zuko reflexively reached out to catch the projectile zooming up towards him, but had to fight to keep from dropping it as the scorching hot surface pressed up against his bare arms.

“Ungh, it’s hot,” he hissed through a teeth-clenched grin. He then noticed the bright gold eyes blinking up at him, and the jump of excitement in his head that was not his own. “Uh...You’re hot?”

There was all of a sudden a baby dragon in his arms, and it seemed very happy to be there.

“How...long has he been here?” Zuko heard himself ask. He wasn’t sure how dragons defined gender, but he got the sense that he was correct.

Shaw lifted her great blue head from the nest of coals, and her mouth hung lazily open in something like a smile. Zuko heard the same strong voice in his head that he had heard on the judgment summit: Our egg was laid decades ago, little brother. Since before Prince Iroh visited us. The world was no longer safe for young dragons, so we kept him dormant until now. Only this summer have we moved to hatch him...so we could introduce him to you.

“To...To me?”

Yes. The Sun Warriors have lived hand to wing with the dragons since times immemorial, and we share a great bond of gratitude for that. But we are both free to make our own decisions as to how to exist with the Fire Nation of today. For now, they will remain in peace here; as for us, we have decided that we will reintroduce ourselves, through you and our son.

“I...” Zuko set his mouth, stood up straighter. The baby dragon chirped and wiggled, apparently impressed. “I see. I’ll help in whatever way I can. What would you have me do?”

This child is our firstborn, eight weeks old and weaned. He can survive without us now. As a sign of goodwill, we entrust him to you, to raise as a friend and companion, the way it was in the days before Sozin. We still remember that peace, those bonds. Spirits willing, all of our offspring will know nothing but.

Zuko nodded, holding the little dragon closer. “I’ll do so happily. May I ask his name?”

It seemed to him that the noise Ran made was laughter.

Dragons name themselves, little brother. In time, he will tell you.

~0~

Mai tilted her head to the side in utter disbelief. “You’re raising...a dragon?”

“Yep!” Zuko said brightly, diligently chopping up meat on the low table in their quarters.

“Somebody else’s dragon?”

“Well, he’s kind of half ours now.” The dragon, sitting on the other half of the table, wiggles his tail excitedly. A puff of flame spurts from his mouth toward the bowl, but Zuko pulls it back. “Hey! Trust me, just wait for the seasonings. I’m kind of...fostering him for his parents. Though if all goes well, he should be staying with us for a pretty long time.”

Azula, using Ikari as a lounge pillow on the other side of the room, was grinning like her birthday had come early. “Well, this certainly makes me feel better about protection for our people, should things turn...bad, again. Becoming the first dragon tamer in over a century ought to earn you some respect here too, Zuzu. So long as nobody decides that they would rather become a Dragon instead.”

“Trust me, I won’t let that happen,” Zuko growled, stroking the dragon from head down to neck. “I’ll protect him no matter what. There’s going to be peace between our kinds again.”

He offered the bowl of chopped and spiced meat to the dragon, who happily proceeded to char it black with its fire and then wolf it down. Zuko grinned. “Some of the outer islands are complaining about invasive animal species damaging their lands. I’m thinking I could bring this guy in to take care of that, since he’ll need bigger meals soon.”

“Well, if we can use him for problem solving, I guess he’s not so bad,” Mai conceded. She reached out to give him exactly two quick scratches between the horns. “Good dragon.”

The dragon chirped, gave her fingers an affectionate nibble, then hopped from the table to Zuko’s head to do the same to his hair. Zuko glanced up at him with contented amusement, feeling a trace of the dragon’s avid friendliness over his skin. “Yeah, thanks. We like you too.”

“Do you think I’ll get the next egg?” Azula asked, absently scratching her tigerwolf behind the ears. “Doctor Zhihao was right about raising an animal being therapeutic. This thing doesn’t seem much different from a puppy.”

Zuko shrugged. “Ran and Shaw’s call. But I don’t see why not.”

Through the window, a messenger hawk flew by, letting out a screech shrill enough to draw the dragon’s attention. Puzzled, he tried a wispier call of his own, as he spread his own tiny wings and leapt from Zuko’s head. But far from gliding, he fell in a heap onto the floor, and Zuko felt a needle stab of confusion in his chest.

He smiled, and reached down to pick the dragon up and set him back on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll have you flying before the summer ends, I promise.”

#in this house we fucking ignore the comics #avatar the last airbender #zuko #azula #ran and shaw #atla druk #atla mai #kaen's fics

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jokin-around · 5 years

Photo

1am trek to Rite-aide in a Batman kigurumi for a bottle of cold syrup and some ice cream

Fic under the cut🎉🎉 ⬇⬇⬇

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19826074

from beneath a pile of blankets a color drained clown groaned miserably, the sound somewhat muffled by the assortment pretty plastic bobbles filling up the half deflated kitty pool they laid in haphazardly.

The clown in question was Gotham's very own mage of mischief. and much as pain played into his game he absolutely HATED being sick.

Funny thing was, Jay didn’t ever get sick. Period.

With the slew of mystery chemicals constantly floating around in his blood he’d always thought he’d be immune to something as innocuous as a cold. yet here he was stewing in misery, surrounded by a sea of used tissues.To say this was the first time he'd spent the wee hours of the night feeling like garbage would be a lie, but it was definitely the first time he’d felt so unprepared for an ailment.

All that considered, He wouldn’t mind the discomfort if he wasn't so hopelessly bored and… not to mention… alone.

Harley, who was probably busy gardening at the moment, hadn’t answered his calls and none of the other rogues would bother coming to his aid if he asked… they didn't like him very much. He didn’t know why and hardly cared but right now he honestly wished he was better at making friends. Of course, Bud, his lovely hyena who was snoring audibly in the other corner of the room, kept him company on long lonely days, but a dog’s unconditional love could only go so far.

He’d been in his room for hours at this point but as the bat shaped clock on his wall struck 1:00 Jay finally decided he’d had enough.

Throwing the blankets aside, sending foam balls bouncing around the room in the process, Jay sat up, hair a mess, rings around his tired eyes, and stood. Trying his best to ignore the how the world spun like a fun top.

He didn’t need Harley or ANY of those other stupid bozo’s. He could fend for himself just fine and he wasn't about to let some stupid head cold keep him down. Without any further thought Jay grabbed his coat, put on shoes, and headed out the door with a pop-gun in his pocket, looking an absolute mess. Grateful for Gotham's shady midnight darkness --------------------------------

It didn’t take long for the clown to reach his destination, Nite-aid pharmaceuticals was right down the street, just close enough to glide the whole way on a pair of unsteady heelys.

When he entered the store the place was mostly empty except for a few unfortunate stragglers. Night owls looking for late-night smokes and liquor as busted fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered above them... A few patrons turned to glance at him warily, not recognizing the clown out of makeup but suspicious nonetheless. Their failure to turn-tail at first sight would be a mistake they'd soon regret as the unkempt clown lifted his pop-gun in the air and lazily pulled it's trigger.

Now a normal play pistol would’ve gone off with an amusingly harmless pop, but Jay liked to personalize his toys. When the cork shot out the sound pierced through the nights silence like a firecracker, a waft of confetti and billowing green smoke flying up with it in an explosion of noxious, candy scented, color.

The fumes quickly spread through the small store, hot boxing it with chemicals that sent all who breathed it into a frenzied fit. The few unlucky customers present dropped anything they held and nearly toppled over each other as they ran screaming with laughter into the night.

At the back though, a store clerk, who seemed to be bared behind his counter, gagged and giggled as he writhed on the floor with his arms clenched around his sids, too disoriented by now to jump to freedom or even unlatch the door leading out.

As Joker came closer the man backed up, amused yet scared half to death of what would happen as the clown peered over the counter and examined him silently.

A few beats passed before Joker let out a small sigh and mentally made a note to tweak his smilex a tad as he wordlessly opened the gate and let the poor, gasping, employee run free, watching him trip over his own feet a few times as he did. His patented giggle concoction seemed a little too potent this time around, he’d have to fix it sometime….

Soon the joint was empty and joker was alone once more. The whole store now nuisance free and it’s contents perfectly ripe for the taking.

Humming a tune to himself Jay sashayed over to the medicinal isle and eyed over his options. All the keysmashed names and multicolored boxes seemed to meld together the longer he stared. he had no idea which one would be his miracle cure and the way his head swirled made it hard to concentrate on all the teeny-tiny words in front of his heavy feeling eyes. Instead of thinking Jay took a bag and filled it with whatever looked right. If he overdosed on Benadryl and Tylenol instead of Nyquil, so be it.

Before heading out Jay decided to take anything else he thought he might need to feel better including a pint of mint-chocolate chip ice-cream from the fridges in back, a page of funnies and a bargain bin DVD copy of Roger Rabbit .

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

As Jay walked out he heard a low rumble coming from a few blocks away, before he was able to recognize the telltale roar of the Batmobile, the powerful car had already charged its way down the street swerving to a sudden screeching halt in front of the small drug store as blinding headlights pointed directly at Jay, temporarily disorienting the already discombobulated clown and exposing his unfortunate appearance.

As Jay clumsily shielded his eyes a dark figure exited the tech loaded vehicle and slowly floated closer. Soon a tall shadow loomed over him, blocking the stunning beams of light. Jay slowly peered up to meet a pair of cold blue slits.

"Batman..…?" said Jay, sounding somewhat surprised despite knowing better

“Shoulda known you’d be here…. you're not gonna arrest me are you?" He asked pitifully

The Bat seemed to examine him for a moment, blue lenses eyeing him up and down. Jay was suddenly very aware of how he must have looked, he hadn't combed his hair, or shaved, or bathed, he was 99% percent sure he'd grabbed a mix-matched pair of heelys on the way out and he was currently wearing a jacket over a onesie despite the fact he was cooking like a hotdog in a microwave, evident by the beads of cold sweat trailing down his face….

His bare, scar riddled, face….

He began to turn red with embarrassment as he averted his weary gaze from the other man's calculated scrutiny, shoulders tensing

"Look are you gonna do your thing or can I take my stolen goods and go?" He asked impatiently, exhaustion in his voice

"My Bat-monitor says you have a 104 degree fever" the Bat states. No inflection.

"right, Which is why I need to get home like, now- " a large hand placed itself on his shoulder as he crouched to collect his stuff from the ground

"What you NEED is medical attention" Batman insisted, gently firming his grip. Jay, stood up, shaking his head in protest despite feeling more and more lightheaded with every passing second

"n-no I-I'm fine, i'll be fine! I just need t- "

Before he could protest further, handcuffs were promptly clasped around his limp wrists with a snug click, Jay looked at his shiny new bracelets and gave Bruce a sharp glare.

"bastard." he grumbled

"You'll thank me later." Bats stated cooly as he took the clown by the scruff of his hood and escorted him to the Batmobile. Jay struggled slightly at first, ragdolling as the Bat pulled him along, the fight in him quickly dissipated though as his energy slowly faded and he realized how shortsighted he'd been to not expect a situation like this. Of course the Bat would be here. you could hardly J-walk in this city without his big dumb ears hearing about it somehow.

But despite the inconvenience he wasn't mad… just… unprepared

he and the Bat had a special little relationship and after the day he'd had, that flowing black cape could be considered a sight for sore eyes. But this particular situation was a little different from their usual routine. Up there on the rooftops they were perfectly matched equals. Jay fast and unpredictable, Bats strong and disciplined. right now, as Jay was silently chauffeured to an impressive looking street demon, the scales were tipped, and instead of being fast he was weak and slow and practically nodding off by the time Bats gently placed his body in it’s passenger seat.

The rumble of the monsters powerful engine shook Jay from his daze and his unfocused eyes were greeted by a colorful array of buttons and knobs that decorated the car's interior.

"Ooohh" he awed quietly

"Don't. Touch. ANYTHING." The Bat warned sternly.

"Fuuuh-INE" he complained. "You don't mind if i eat in here tho right?" He asked as he fished into his bag and took out his pint of ice cream.

Batman shot him a look of disapproval.

"Ah, Don't worry- " Jay assured as he struggled to get the tub open "I won't get any on your p-precious lea-ther interio- " a bout of violent coughs interrupted his snarky remark…

The Bat sighed

"here, let me" he took the tub and quickly ripped it open, before placing it back in Jays lap

"OH HO HO thanks, Armstrong." He teased

"Whatever… Just pipe down and take this." Bruce reached into his glorified fanny pack and pulled out a small green pill.

Jay eyed it curiously.

"S' not some funky sedative is it?" He asks cautiously

Bruce shook his head….

"It's a… chemical agent I made special for you… I uh… mix it with my sedatives to counteract your resistance to them… it won't put you to sleep but It should have the same effect on those meds i’m paying for" he explained, nodding at the cherry flavored syrup Jay swiped.

With a bit of hesitation Jay picked up the small capsule and eyed it further. It was rather large and filled with a bright green gel.

"....well that's pretty... thoughtful of you I guess. "

Bruce looked away briefly, he'd created the compound last time Jay was out cold on his operating table using a sample of his blood. He'd put it to other uses since, but it had ultimately saved the clown's life last time around… that said he should've known Jay might find his over-preparedness odd

After a few beats of silence, Jay bit the bullet, washing it down with a scoop of ice cream. Help from the Bat, no matter how uncalled for, was usually help he could trust, besides he thought it was funny how often the Bat modded his tech just for his sake. Was it obsessive? Romantic? he couldn’t tell, but he was definitely flattered…

With a small contented smile on his face, Bruce turned back to the wheel and revved his engine "Alright clown... buckle up"

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

It didn't take long for the two to arrive at the Batcave. The ride there quick and uneventful. Bruce didn’t have to bother with a blindfold or knockout gas to cover his tracks, Jay had passed out about halfway there and even then, it wouldn't have mattered much. He was sure Jay already knew it’s location despite being in the dark about...other things.

Exiting the car and stalking to the other side with his cape flowing behind him. Bruce opened the door to the passenger seat and watched as the winged doors lifted to reveal a sleeping figure cradling a half melted pint of ice cream.

“Is this the 'guest' you mentioned earlier sir?” Alfred inquired as he came to greet his kevlar clad son.

“It is.” He answered softly as he slowly lifted the pint from the clowns arms and handed It to the older man

"You somehow failed to mention the guest in question was your colorful new nemesis” the servant jested, raising a brow

"Uh… Forgot to I guess" Bruce shrugged, knowing full well he’d swept a detail or two under the rug to avoid another scolding from his free-spoken butler.

There was a pause of silence as they both watched the peaceful perriot rest

“...If only he was this quiet all the time, Gotham would be a much less hectic place… “ said Alfred after a moment.

“Perhaps” said Bruce. eye’s never breaking away as his chest rose and fell

Alfred, of course, had more to say but decided to keep it to himself as not to sour the moment he was having.

“Well this is going in the fridge... a pot of hot soup should be ready shortly. Just enough for the both of you”

“Thanks al”

Alfred nodded then went on his way as Bruce turned his attention back to Jay.

Although he was used to seeing the jolly jester in a more upkept state, he had to admit he was… striking... even like this…

When that perpetually cheery smile of his finally relaxed, it was replaced by soft supple lips and butter knife sharp cheekbones that framed his face in a way rarely seen outside of hollywood.

Gingerly, Bruce reached beneath his guest and lifted him from his seat.

It always surprised him how light he was, not that Jay was very big to begin with but… the way he threw a punch, took hits like they were nothing… it made it easy to forget he was only about 5'4"... perhaps even smaller minus the mane of hair that currently draped over his tired face

With the rest of the man’s features veiled, Bruce’s eyes were drawn to the two deep scars which curled from the corners of his mouth like a jagged grin. They were long healed but Bruce had a feeling the wounds cut deeper than eyes could see...

As Bruce thumbed away a few stray locks of green to get a better look, Jay began to stir. Hurriedly Bruce stepped over to the med bay section of the cave and laid his guest down before his eyes began to flutter open

"W-where?" He asked groggily as his vision focused

"Batcave."

“Again?” He muttered while sitting up “This gonna be a regular thing?”

“Were you expecting a hospital?” Bruce asked.

Jay rubbed his face

“guess not….” Hospitals we’re never really an option for people like them he supposed. Too many nosy doctors and prodding hands… bad memories...

“Here” a small cup of cherry liquid appeared in front of him, held by a black glove. He took it slowly.

“Can't have the whole bottle??”

“Why would you want to?”

Jay shrugged and took the shot

“I dunno…”

Bruce let that comment slide and stepped closer to check his temperature again.

"How are you feeling?"

" terrible" Jay replied miserably. Bruce looked at his monitor, the clown was stable at about 105°. It wasn't common for a cold to come with a fever but Jay was... an uncommon person.

" think a cool shower might help?"

The clown smiled "...mm… maybe…. You aren't offering to join me are you?"

Bruce scoffed "Not with you like this I'm not…"

Jay rose an eyebrow.

"er… not that I would if you…. Weren't…" Bruce's cheeks went pink for a moment. Though he'd looked away he could tell Jay was smiling even wider. Probably holding in a laugh too.

"Uhm...alright uh… washroom's that way, use what you want, shampoo, conditioner, whatever, I can always buy more"

Jay hopped down from the table and stretched with a moan

"I'm sure you can, rich boy."

"Huh?" Bruce tensed, taken aback by the term usually used to describe his alter ego.

"being best buds with Bruce Wayne must have some pretty sweet perks"

Bruce sighed, allowing himself to breath again as Jay made his way to the shower "right.."

_____________

It didn't take long for Jay to return, He made quick work of cleaning up and was soaped, rinsed and dried within a few minutes. His greasy mop now a fluffy, blow dried, up-do And his mind fog free.

The bouncy mane of curls caught Bruce's attention as the clown re-entered the main room, freshly scrubbed, lemon scented and humming a tune.

"You look a little better…. " Bruce complimented

"Just a little?" Said Jay, faking disappointment.

"Uh… w...well" Bruce stammered.

"Just teasing u dummy." He said with a smile as he took a seat on the bannister next to the Bat-computer.

"Right… well.... I see you're back to your normal self" said Bruce, returning to his work

"Mostly." Jay smiled

"Good… that's good." There was some silence taken up by Bruce's fingers tapping the Bat-computer's interface

"Hey." Jay interrupted

"Yeah?" Said Bruce

"Aren't you scared of catching my cold-cooties or something?" The clown inquired

"No." Bruce answered bluntly.

"Why not?"

"bats don't get colds"

Jay rose an eyebrow.

"Oh really?"

"It's true."

"Mhm…"

Suddenly the sound of a throat clearing interrupted their banter.

"are you two quite done, or will supper have to wait?"

The odd couple turned to face Alfred who was holding a silver platter somewhat impatiently.

"er...Now is fine Alfred"

The butler nodded and gracefully waltzed between them to set the plate down. Removing it's dome to reveal a piping hot stew, stuffed with chicken and veggies, with fresh baked biscuits on the side. It’s aroma was even more enticing than it’s appearance

"Wow this is nothing like that Campbell's stuff" said Jay, eyes wide.

"I should hope not.” Alfred huffed. “ I didn't go to culinary school to cook from a can"

“Thank’s Al, it looks great”

"Of course sir… Oh, and, sir?"

"Yeah, Al?"

"You invited this man into your home… least you could do is give him a proper seat"

Jay was still sitting on the banister, swinging his legs happily.

“oh…. Right” he pressed a button and a second chair raised from the floor “i’m… usually the only person down here, sorry.”

“What about that kid?”

“Robin? Never sits still, likes the banister “

“Huh, Go figure….” Jay plopped down in his seat and spun around a few times before grabbing his bowl and testing the soup… to put it lightly, the taste was beyond heavenly.

“Oh my god….”

“Glad to see it suits your taste mr.Jay, young Bruce would fuss about having to eat it every time he was under the weather….”

Bruce a blushed a tint

Jay smiled

“I guess bat’s DO get the sniffles”

“Wasn't a bat back then, doesn’t count”

“Yes it does.”

“No it doesn't”

“Yes it- “

“Children!”

They froze… Alfred gave them a stern look. Free of malice but intimidating nonetheless.

“Do try to behave yourselves, I have enough trouble with robin as is and he’s much better mattered than the both of you”

“Yes, Alfred”

“Sorry, Alfred…” they apologized

The butler one last look,turned on his heels and left the room in silence.

“Man you’re butler’s mean…” Jay whispered

“Don't worry, it’s just an act…. I think…” As they both returned to their gourmet supper Jay suddenly recalled the DVD he'd brought with him.

"Oh HEY! Can we watch a movie???"

"Movie?"

"Yeah!" Jay scrambled over his bag and ran back with the box in his hand.

"Roger Rabbit! It's a classic!"

"Never seen it."

"Really? well we'll have to fix that… it's a detective story! you'll like it!…"

Bruce slowly took the case, studying its colorful cover…

"Suppose… I'll... take your word for it."

Reluctantly, Bruce popped a hatch on the Bat-computer and let the movie play on one of it's many monitors. Jay sitting back with a satisfied smile as Bruce sunk deeper into his work...

Or at least, tried to.

Jay's amused chuckles here and there made it hard to concentrate but the sound wasn't… unpleasant. Every now and then the clown would tap his shoulder and tell him to pay attention to a favorite scene or line if his… eyes flitting between him and the screen, searching for a reaction, however small or unreadable … smiling whenever Bruce's lips curled even a millimeter or two.

As the night continued, Bruce recalled the large home theater he had upstairs in the mansion

50 seats and rarely more than one taken at a time...

He imagined himself up there now with his arm around the other man's shoulders, sharing snacks and a large blanket, huddled close…

Perhaps he could’ve come up with some elaborate lie about "Bruno" allowing visitors in his humble abode, but as much warmth as the thought gave him, it was greatly overpowered by his own paranoia…

He wasn’t quite ready to break that barrier no matter how much he wanted too...

So maybe not today…

But maybe later….

Someday.

After a few passing moments Bruce realized Jay’s little interruptions had stopped and turned to find the man fully asleep on the chair beside him. With a light sigh, Bruce carefully removed his cape and draped it over the man just as he’d done before a year or so ago, Quietly calling for Alfred to prepare the Batcave’s guest bed.

With all the cordial tenderness in the world, Bruce lifted his nemesis and carried him downstairs. for now, somewhere in between all the imaginary lines they’d drawn in the sand, just this close was close enough.

#batman #lego batman #batjokes #jokeboi au #fanfic #my art

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flowersoldier · 4 years

Text

The Flower Girl and the Wolf

Chapter 2: Wolf, meet Human

AO3 ff.net

“Are you sure about...”

“Yes.” Interrupted Aerith, not letting Cloud finish the sentence because she knew what he's gonna ask. Again. “I'm really, really, really sure, okay?” At least then he stopped talking and just followed her like the puppy that he was. Aerith couldn't help but giggle at the thought and ignored his confused look.

It didn't take long for them to cross the Sector and came closer to her home. And even though it's still a part of the Sector 5 Slums, it looked so different from the rest of it. Aerith was quite sure that her house was the most beautiful below the plate and she was the only one who had an actual garden with lots of flowers. Well, for some reason they only grew here and in the church.

Cloud stopped when they reached their destination and stared at the garden. “Beautiful, huh?” She asked, smiling at him and tilting her head.

The blonde looked at her then and mumbled something that sounded like 'you are', before correcting himself. “It is.” Aerith giggled, especially when she saw him blushing. So she heard right.

“My mom and I grew them. It's weird, this and the church are the only places where flowers can grow.”

“This is amazing...” Aerith watched how his fluffy ears wiggled, taking in all kinds of sounds. He looked so cute. Then he noticed her staring and returned her gaze. “W-what?”

“Nothing.” She smiled at him brightly and grabbed his arm. “Let's go inside.” Cloud only nodded and let her lead him into the house. “Mom, I'm home!” She called, as they entered the house.

Elmyra came down the stairs a moment later. “You're very early today.“ She said, before seeing the hooded figure next to her. “And who's this?“

Aerith smiled and grabbed Cloud's arm. “Don't worry. He's not one of them.“ She tried to reassure her mother. “This is Cloud. I know it sounds crazy, but he's a wolf.“ At her questioning look, Aerith pulled off his hood to reveal his ears and then her look turned into surprise.

Cloud looked at her hesitantly, before looking down again. “M-ma'am.“ He was a very polite wolf.

But her mom didn't quite looked like she wanted him here. “Aerith...are you sure he's not dangerous? I've heard stories about them...“ At that Cloud gave her a look that said 'See? People hate me and you should, too', but she ignored it.

“Don't worry, mom. He's really nice. And he's looking for a place to stay the night. He'll leave tomorrow.“ She tried to convince her mother but it looked like she wasn't convinced. “He's not dangerous.“

Elmyra took a minute to think, also glancing at Cloud to judge for herself if he's dangerous or not. “Okay. But only for tonight.“

“Promise!“

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

Aerith looked at him with the brightest smile he's ever seen on a person. And he couldn't help but feel happy that she was happy. He returned her smile slightly, before looking to her mother. “Thank you. For letting me stay.“ He said, bowing to her, using all the good manners his mother taught him. But the tension broke again when he felt someone poking his ear.

He didn't even have to look up to see who it was...It tickled, though and his wolf ear moved by itself. “So cute.“ Squeaked Aerith delighted, while Cloud could only look away and hope none of them saw him blushing. “Cloud, are you hungry?“ She asked, getting his attention again.

The blonde nodded, but wondered how they should get food here. How did anyone get food here? There aren't any creatures to hunt. “Yeah but...there's nothing to hunt around here...“ He said, confused at Aerith's carefree and teasing smile.

“We're not hunting, Cloud.“ He frowned. “You're right, there's nothing here. That's why some people leave this town to hunt. And others have farms. And they sell their food so that everyone can have something. We pay them with money. Do you understand?“

Still frowning, his eyes went up to the right to imagine what she just said. So it was like a team of the pack leave to gather food enough for them and for the whole pack. But instead of just giving it to everyone they want 'money', because people only fend for themselves apparently. “I guess...“ He mumbled.

Aerith went to a different part of the house, that she called 'kitchen' and Cloud followed. He stared at everything in confusion, not knowing what all these weird things were for. When she opened something, he stood right behind her to see what's inside. Smelled like lots of food, but not only that, he could feel cold air coming out of it. “What's that? Why is this cold?“ He asked her, now looking at it mesmerized.

“It's a refrigerator. The cold air keeps the food fresh.“ She explained. So it was like in winter, when they buried meat in snow?

“I see...“ He mumbled, that was indeed very handy.

“So, what do you wanna eat, Cloud?“ The girl asked and Cloud only got the most obvious answer from him.

“Uh, meat?“

Aerith giggled. “Of course.“ She took out a big piece of meat out of that cooling thing, but brought it somewhere else. The wolf tilted his head and watched her taking other utensils.

“Cloud, why don't you sit down and wait a while?“ Said Elmyra, who joined them in the kitchen.

He only got out of their way though. Cloud stayed nearby and watched the women curiously, until a very delicious scent filled the whole house. It was the meat, but it smelled kinda different now. Something sizzled, too. A few minutes later they seemed to be done and brought the food to the 'table'. It was on 'plates' and Aerith taught him how to use the 'fork' and 'knife'. At his question what she did to the meat, she said she cooked it. “Be careful, it's hot.“

“It smells...nice.“ He mumbled, sniffing the still slightly sizzling meat. Then he clumsily cut off a piece and and put it in his mouth. His eyes widened at the taste. It was so delicious! He's eaten meat his whole life, but never did it taste like this before!

“You like it?“ Asked Aerith, who's eating her own food. He noticed that she and Elmyra had something else entirely. All he could do was nod, as he cut off a bigger piece. As he began to literally wolf down his meal, she noticed Aerith glancing at him from time to time and smiled at him. In one of these times he couldn't help but return her smile slightly. This only seemed to make her happier, as her smile brightened.

“Cloud, what else are you eating in the woods? Except meat, of course.“ Asked Elmyra once they were all done eating.

Cloud swallowed his last piece before answering. “Well, sometimes we eat fish and berries. Why?“

“I'm just curious.“ Said the older woman innocently. The women brought the plates back intonthe kitchen and did something there. Cloud watched them from his seat, but couldn't make out what they did.

Then Aerith prepared something, he still couldn't see but something smelled delicious. “Do you want some strawberries, Cloud?“

He didn't know what it was, but if it smelled so delicious it had to taste like it too. “Sure.“ Just a moment later she came back with a 'bowl' with red fruits. “I've never eaten those before...“ He mumbled, before trying one. And he was right, these 'strawberries' were delicious!

“You like it?“ Aerith asked the obvious, as she watched him eat.

Cloud nodded. “Yeah. They're great.“ The girl smiled and took a berry herself. The blonde noticed that some of the berry juice trickled down Aerith's chin and he had to fight the urge to lick it off. That's not what humans did, right? When Aerith noticed him staring he immediately looked away, feeling his cheeks heat up. They kept eating in silence until the bowl was empty. As Cloud looked around to avoid Aerith's gaze, he noticed another interesting thing. It looked like a box, but...not quiet. There were buttons on it and...a part that looked different from the rest. “What's that?“ He asked going closer to the box.

“That's a tv.“ A second later he was blinded by light and foreign voiced talked. And when he saw people in the box, he backed away in shock. He heard Aerith giggle.

“What is that?! Are tiny people living in this box?“ He asked, while she kept laughing.

“No. The people are regular sized.“ And then she explained him the magic that was 'television'. It's not that he could understand it, though...But having this to get info's from the whole planet and a few things to 'pass the time' and 'entertain themselves' was amazing.

In the 'news' came something unexpected then. It showed him, how he ran into the town. He had to scare a few people away, so he looked as wild and dangerous as the guy called him. “Wow, Cloud, you made some big impression there.“ Joked Aerith then.

Of course she still wasn't afraid of him...He expected her or Elmyra to say anything about it, but...“Cloud, where are you from?“ Asked the older woman and joined Aerith at the table again.

“Uh, Gongaga.“

“Wait what? That's on another continent! How did you get here?“ Asked Aerith surprised.

“Uh well...Wolves in my age usually leave the pack to make a new one. But our current situations won't let us. Still I wanted to see a bit of the world and they let me go. I didn't plan to come here, though. I, uh smelled something to eat in a ship and got in. And then I was here. Well, a few people chased me around on the way, too.“

“Aww, I'm so sorry Cloud!“ Said Aerith, looking so sad at him, that the only thing he wanted to do was make her happy again.

“It's fine. If...if they wouldn't have chased me around I would've never met you.“ Cloud was glad that it made her smile again and he noticed her cheeks turning pink, too.

They kept talking for the rest of the day. Aerith had to deliver some flowers to the Leave House and asked Cloud to help her. He wasn't very happy to pick and carry around flowers, but he did help her. And when she asked him to help her watering her big flower garden he did that, too. The place was too big for Aerith to do this all alone.

When they were done, he saw her kneeling by a patch of flowers. She seemed to be talking to them. Cloud went over to her, but she was already done talking. “And that was my day.“ She said to the flowers.

“Are you talking to the flowers?“ He asked her curiously.

Aerith nodded. “I know it sounds crazy, but I have the feeling they want to tell me something. But their voices can't reach me.“

The wolf tilted his head, staring down at the flowers. It wasn't as crazy as she thought it was. He did hear about people, even some of his own kind, who were able to communicate with the planet. What were they called again...? “Well, let's go inside. Have some dinner.“ As Aerith went past him again, Cloud looked at the flowers again.

“Learn to talk to her.“ He said go the plants with a low voice but when he turned to follow Aerith, he realized she was still there and surely heard him.

“Did the flowers say anything?“ She asked, clasping her arms behind her back.

“Uh...'Good job today, guys'?“ He said, just hoping it's making her happy. And it did. She was smiling at him as if she's glad that he didn't think she's crazy and pretended to actually talk with the flowers.

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

“Good night, mom.“ Said Aerith, as she skipped all the way up the stairs. Cloud took his time and turned to Elmyra.

“Good night.“ After the woman wished him a good night as well, Cloud went up the stairs, to see Aerith waiting there for him.

“This is your room.“ The girl pointed at the door to the left. “Well, actually it's my room but you can use it today. My mom and I will share hers.“ Then the pointed to the door to the right. “So I'll be nearby if you need anything.“ Cloud nodded, although he felt guilty for taking away her 'territory'. “Alright. Good night, Cloud.“

“Good night. Aerith.“ He said and watched her disappear into her mother's room. Once the door closed, Cloud entered Aerith's room. It was difficult to see in the dark with human eyes, but it's enough to find the bed. The whole room smelled like Aerith. If he thought before that he was wrapped in a warm flowery bubble, then how he wad literally in it. He stumbled to the bed, hitting his foot somewhere on the way, and lay down.

The bed was so fluffy. It was such a big difference from sleeping on the ground all the time. The sheets, the pillow...Aerith's smell intensified there. It's almost like she lay right next to her. It lulled him to sleep immediately.

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

In his dreams he was a little pup again, cuddled up against the white fur of his mother. A pup who's been pushed away by the others of his age. But it wasn't like he wanted to be their friend anyway. They were all so childish, laughing at every stupid thing. No, he didn't need any of them. The way his mother was washing him, distracted him. But it also reminded him of the bite wound he earned himself from fighting one of these puppies.

“Cloud, you should stop fighting the others. We're a pack.“ Her mother scolded him. The gold-ish pup huffed and let his mother lick his wounds. He didn't need a pack. He'd grow up to a literal lone wolf. “You know, when you're old enough to leave, I'd like you to settle down with a nice girlfriend. Someone older than you who can take care of you.“ Cloud could only roll his eyes at that.

Then they both looked up, startled, when they heard battle noises. “He's back...“ His mother said, before quickly carrying him away. With her fur white and his gold-ish, they were the most obvious targets and wolves with those fur colors were supposed to be the firsts hide.

The rest of his dream was like a blur. It was weird that he could remember everything clearly but this. His mother was running, then he was hiding under some thick bushes. Then came a silver wolf with glowing eyes. They were green-ish/blue. Really scary. And then there was red. Lots and lots of red.

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

“Cloud?“ Said blond woke up with a start. He sat on the bed, his heart racing and civered in sweat. His eyes moved frantically to the person that called him and for a second he saw these scary, glowing eyes. But then he blinked and they turned to a deep and calming green he learned to like. “Cloud, are you okay?“ Aerith asked and her voice was enough to calm his racing heart.

He took a few deep breaths, before he could answer. “I'm fine.“ He mumbled, looking away from her just as he felt a tear gliding down his cheek. These dreams...these memories came to hunt him more frequently now.

“I don't think you're fine. I heard you screaming in your sleep. Looks like you had a real bad nightmare.“ Aerith sais, with the softest voice he heard from her yet. “Do you want to talk about it?“

Cloud leaned on his bent knees and stared at his feet. “No...“ He expected her to press on, to force him to talk about it, but she nodded and just said 'okay'. Most of the wolves in his life where very pushy, but he was glad that Aerith wasn't like that.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?“ She asked then. Cloud needed a moment to think. Everyone else would've left already or just stayed there, but no one asked what he wanted before.

“...No...“ Aerith's presence was very calming and being alone right now wasn't something he wanted for once. Nodding again the girl sat on the bed next to him. She didn't say anything and she didn't need to. Then she put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. When he looked at her, she was smiling as if to say 'everything's gonna be okay'. And he wanted to believe it. “I just...“ He began, after taking another deep breath, hos eyes focused on nothing in particular in front of him. “...dreamed about my mother. And what happened to her when I was a pup.“ Aerith just looked at him and didn't ask any questions. “She uh...was killed.“

At that he felt Aerith's hand on his shoulder squeezing him gently. “I was born in Nibelheim. But then a crazy wolf appeared and destroyed everything.“

“I've heard about it one the news...that some big wolf is on a rampage, killing lots of innocent animals. Mostly Chocobos.“ Said Aerith thoughtfully. It wasn't surprising to him, that she heard about it. Must've been some big news back then.

“We do eat Chocobos once in a while. They're really good actually, but we would never kill for sports. Not like this bastard.“ He clenched his fists tightly, till his knuckles turned white. Cloud would do anything to be strong enough to get revenge on him. But this wolf wasn't normal...

“I'm sorry for what happened to you and your mother, Cloud.“ Her hand squeezed his shoulder again.

Cloud only hummed and looked at her again. She was smiling sadly and kinda looked like she saw more than he showed or said. He didn't know what happened then. He felt like breaking down at any moment and usually he did everything to avoid it. But now...He knew Aerith wouldn't judge him if he did. Turning a bit more towards her, he let his head drop on her shoulder. In a matter of seconds Aerith wrapped her arms around his neck and just held him. Her fingers gently ran through his hair, while he just sat there with his eyes closed and only concentrated on her and her scent.

#clerith #cloud #aerith #final fantasy vii #ffvii #cloud strife #aerith gainsborough #se #square enix #fanfiction #fanfics #wolf au

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 5 years

Text

Silver In The Sea (Julian Devorak! Pirate x Mermaid! Reader) 1

Summary: A year into his travels at sea, Julian Devorak is faced with the highs and lows of sailing across the southern sea; facing the dangers that come with it. As a physician, he is given many opportunities to live out the days in surviving for himself - especially against many things that want him dead.

Notes: Julian grows hungrier and hungrier, and his attention is set on hunting a very large fish that he has hopes in hunting. Mentions of blood and injury, Julian feeling bad.

SUPPORT ME ON A03, MY USERNAME THE SAME AS HERE!!

Prologue - 2 - 3

Silver In The Sea Chapter 1 (Creatures Lurk)

By the next day, the sun was already glaring down into Julian's eye, a flare that shone brightly when he opened them, causing the failed physician to shield it with a notable groan of discomfort.

When he did come around, he was aware that the sun was growing higher in the air, yet the air was still thin with heat. It meant there was an open window for him to gather as many things needed before the day got hotter.

His back was in mild discomfort, more so from how he slept - or how little he did - than from his wounds. Peeling back the seaweed, Julian squirmed at the dry feel that felt as if it was ripping at his flesh. This feels even worse than I realised. He thought, believing the possible look of it would be rather disgusting and off-putting.

He followed the same procedures: stepping in with as less pain into the water, reaching to his waist and trying to clean his wound out as best as he could, before collecting seaweed to wrap around it.

His shirt might've been ripped at the back, but it kept him somewhat protected from the sun, and unfortunately to him, he burnt quickly. Scavenging for items in the damp forests and high trees in the middle of the island, he made sure to not wander too far off in case he would get lost and lose his set-up camp.

In the end, he had gathered some mud on his skin as a barrier against the sun, including his fair arms and face. He also managed to go looking for some sort of protection if need be. It was certainly in his mind used for later use for hunting.

The stick was half his height, thick in the width but with some adjustments could be used for a weapon. When he returned, the sun was high enough in the sky and the sun was reflecting off from the water into his eye, giving him barely any protection at all.

Julian sat back in his spot, rummaging in his trouser pockets for anything useful: a small knife half the length of his forearm could be handy to open things like clams and man-made items, but it wasn't enough just for fending for himself. No, I would need this for a certain fish. He thought, looking out towards the water.

The water flickered and licked at the white sand, little fishes could be seen swimming by the shores, but would not be big enough for him to eat. No, he was planning for something bigger that was circling in the darkened waters. Julian believed that this would set him and his hunger, an insatiable appetite he had that would suffice him greatly.

It was now a game of waiting and planning his mode of attack.

The sun growing low by the time the afternoon rolled around, and Julian had been starving by then, staring out into the waters in silence... scheming. The same shark had been swarmed and circling, never seeming to leave, but its tail flickered up occasionally in the waters, a flick and splash and it would be gone hunting in the darkness again.

Julian watched with keen eyes, watching the way it moved, the way it would flick up into the shallow end to turn itself over, and then, he would know when was right to strike.

It was dark when the evening had settled, Julian's fire burning hotter than a thousand stars as he watched from a distance away from his small camp. He watched the water stir and flicker, staring at the familiar colours as he waited and waited, the hunger bringing out more of a primal need in a man like himself now that he had been deprived of food for a full day - but that day and those minutes felt like weeks.

There was a place where Julian could step up onto the rocks, staring down towards the large dip in the water, standing barefoot with the mud-caked on his pale burnt skin. Now was the time to wait.

It could either take minutes, or hours, and Julian would have to just watch, spear pointed towards the sloshing waters, eye darting in all directions.

The storms will come and go, taking the fishes with it. The little fish get eaten, but I will not stop until the big one is dead. He thought determined. He may have been an unlicensed doctor, but he was certainly trying to make sure he lived long enough to not starve himself to death.

In the split-second flashed something within the depths of water, and in his state of hunger and willpower, all in Ilya Devorak's mind screamed for food. In the split part of his head, he was already using the spear in his grip, spinning the pointy end, and stabbing it with as much speed and might into the waters below him.

Something tugged and strained against the point of the spear, and Julian could feel that he had been quick enough to pierce the flesh.

He grunted, and indeed, the fish was big, sizable he knew but it was larger than he expected. Julian tugged and tried wiggling the spear further into the water, and further into the fish, watching before him the sea grow tainted in blood.

The dying heat from the wind howled and screamed in Julian's face, a beast the squirmed and wrestled for freedom, a large tail of bright silver crashed up against the waves, not breaking to getaway. Julian hissed as his palms strained and blistered, his body constantly nearly going over the edge and trying to pull him in, but he planted his feet with some strenuous pain to dig them in the dirt and rocks to supplant himself in one spot.

The water stilled, and for a second, Julian had thought that he had succeeded in killing the large fish or shark, a sigh of relief coming from his lips as he wiped at his forehead.

His moment of triumph was left unfinished when his spear was tugged forward with a blunt force, his hands still around the spear and not expecting quite to feel something forcefully pulling him forward.

Julian met the shallow water with a sting to his skin, the saltwater meeting his wound as he wriggled to breach the surface. Something skimmed his ankles, slippery in slimy texture, Julian screamed to get out as fast as possible. The salt burned his eye as he looked around in steadfastness, he was met with just the clear blue waters tinted a green-grey.

My spear, where is my spear? He breached the surface for air, treading water, not wanting his meal to getaway. There, drifting away from him, the makeshift spear was floating away from him. He swam with half the saltwater in his throat, looking around in case he could be attacked at any second. He grabbed at his weapon, swimming back towards the small edge, clinging to the rocks.

His fingers bled as he tried to climb up one-handed, a burning in his lungs gave him the sensation of drowning, and he felt once again as if he was underwater when his ship was going under siege.

If there was any way to die, it would never want to be by drowning ever again. He thought, the memory growing to become a horrible nightmare.

A splash came from his far left, and when he looked, the large silver tail of the fish slipped under the waters, squirming in difficulty to turn itself around and get away from the shallow sand beds that left-back to shore.

This was possibly his chance to get it before it slipped before him and it was too late.

Julian staggered/waded through the heavy water, coming into to close the creature in until it was practically backed to the shore. Using the spear point, Ilya began using it to slowly get the fish further and further out from the water, a way to dry it up before ending it for good.

The seaweed tickled at his bare skin, and he knew he was getting close into getting a meal for once, and in an attempt to drive the fish further along the shore, Julian pierced the spear down into the water, driving it into the skin of the creature further.

The fish wriggled and an elongated cry came from just in front of him; a sad tune familiar from those of whales, but most definitely a tune so forlorn.

In his mind of hunger, Julian paused, staring as the silhouette of the creature looked slim and long, trails of what looked like seaweed floating upwards on the top, and before him small bubbles came to the surface, each one more paused and frantic than what could come from a possible human.

Julian lowered his spear, watching with curiosity and horror as before him in the shallowness of the red-mixed water, a head floated to the top, and eyes were staring back with anger back into his.

#julian devorak #pirate julian devorak #julian the arcana #julian devorak the arcana #julian devorak x reader #ilya devorak #the arcana au #reader x julian devorak #mermaid au #mermaid reader #the arcana

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thegamewhiz · 4 years

Text

Something I realized, is Hope itself is HOPELESS. Not in a nihilism way, in a very specific, very easily seen way.

Immutable rules for sentient life. Across time, space, dynasties and species for oppression and evils.

1: Oppressive and evil will always strike first, having the advantage. Seeking to kill and ruin, rather than merely co exist and tolerate. See lions and sheep together, see Nazis and Jews

2: Oppressive and evil will strike to kill. There aren’t specific reasons to be gentle or less lethal. So therefore a handicap of fighting with more rules against lesser. See comics

3: Attacking first leaves the target at a disadvantage, on top of the oppressive already having the advantage. See prey vs predators or predator vs predator

4: Every creature and force go the easier route. Less rules means less finangling and handicaps. Whatever they may be. So more do this through sheer ease, like any force. Due to energy conservation. It is possible to avoid ease, but draws more due to energy and effort. See electricity

5: Striking first, over time, the advantage grows and disadvantages grow like trajectory of boats and rockets. Even without self adding. Ship trajectory

6: Given the lack of lethality (or as lethal) due to compunctions of compassion, the evils will always come back. Different names, different banners, same types of goals. They won’t be remotely stamped out because they will have extra wiggle room. The same oppression and hatred will have different banners, or focused groups. See antibiotic resistance of disease

7: Having to fend off the oppressive forces multiple times, they have more chances to win, by numbers. Then stomping others to insure power. See disease and age.

8: Striking first has the element of surprise, so more devastating. See predator animals.

9: As they chip away, eventually the structure of whatever society collapses, or in a big destructive moment, everything is destroyed. This is due to trying to keep creatures under their thumb. Whether they crush it, or instantly squeeze it to death, is irrelevant. See pythons, bombs, and houses, or dams.

10: They win if the oppressed or good loses. Good always having the last laugh doesn’t mean anything if either everyone is dead or going to die. See critical mass, see collapsing structures per physics or dams.

11: Using their advantages to leverage more. More resources to beget more in a near infinite loop. See intertia, see ape and human usage of tools and evolution.

12: Seeking more lethality, they destroy their enemies, giving more advantages. Less soldiers and such to fight. In addition to less rules to bog down. See American Revolution and Vietnam war.

13: If a species is accepting, this holds true for outsiders attempting to help or “help” and causing the same problems. See PETA

14: Possible is not probable. Losing while having these is possible, but far far unlikely. Lotteries, evolutions, etc.

15: Even given magnanimous appearing assistances, resources are needed, resulting in some form of trade off for expenditure. If not upfront, in secret (Monsanto seeds are a great example). Infinite resources are not possible (infinite growth doesn’t work), so eventually resource necessity will result in either upfront demand or secret malicious actions. Demonstrated by wars over resources (Native Americans are a decent example), fiction like Twilight Zone, animal territory disputes (ant wars for instance).

16: Karma, Justice are hopeless. Due to the lack of equivalent agonies, you can’t cause enough pain to equal. Thousands of headaches? Too deadly and kill. Millions of severe suffering? Too much pain and kills. The second part is meaning. Cutting off a hand for a hand doesn’t work as one person lives and values their hands differently. A pianist vs most people. This precludes even the conditions such as born with bone cancers, born to starve, etc. Then too far. The worst actions stop. So with infinity, you surpass those actions consequences. Per biology.

17: Leverage of resources and advantages so even victories are pyyric. Say, causing mass death and getting a week in jail. This has been done through history. From guillotines (as opposed to scaphism) to drowning in their choice of wine. The punishment is easier with leverage. SAT random choice penalties and Hail Mary’s.

18: Divide and conquer, pitting against to distract. Eagles have used fire for this, racism for people. Hitler Jewish scapegoats. Fire Hawks and fish.

Overall, given the levels of oppressive capabilities, we have negligible outliers much in the vein of Borel’s theory. These have happened in hundreds of societies across thousands of years with millions of people, even forces of energy and animals. Electricity, hunting, power dynamics, all have examples of these to some degree. This isn’t just drawing on a group of a dozen people.

Not every single rule all at the same time, but multiple of them that have tremendous implications.

Rules like these make hope such an outlier, that it can be considered hopeless. It is, at best, a non zero integer. Calculated by a super computer, if at all.

These can hold true to the most primitive of elementary reactions to highest celestial beings. Fundamental laws of the universe (barring creatures defying possible mechanics) that will hold true in multiple fashions.

Until we find some god creature that defies rules of the universe, all of these rules are presumed to be correct.

In conclusion, this isn’t a nihilist “life sucks and has no meaning” this is “Based on available evidence ranging from the first creatures and elements, to presumed futuristic societies, hope is hopeless” This isn’t from nothing, and emphasis on the evidences throughout history, time and forces.

#hopelessness #dystopian future #future #philosophy

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 12

Episode 12 - “One is All, All is One” We open with whoawhoawhoa it’s Beardy from the intro. Papa Elric? Do we finally get backstory on Absent Dad this episode?

Beardy doesn’t look happy about something. And Ed wakes up in shock. More points towards it being Papa Elric, and also it not being the healthiest of families. But hey, this is anime, good luck finding any Protagonist families without Drama. Al says they’re almost at Dublith, asks if Ed was having a bad dream. Then stays oddly quiet when Ed says it was about ‘him’. Jeez, what’s with this guy? In town, both boys are very unenthusiastic about seeing Teacher again. And now the screens suddenly shaking, the door creaks open ominously gah bloody knife what the Oh dear. A very very big man has just stepped outside. Seriously, this guy looks like he could give Armstrong himself a run for his money. [Ed]: “Um… hello, Sig.” [Al]: “Long time no see.” Ah, a butcher! Got it. He’s rather chill about seeing the Elrics after so long, just patting them on the head and commenting on how they’ve grown (and can I just say how it’s adorable for the Giant Fanged Suit of Armor to be happy about having his head rubbed? Daw.) Sig pokes his head through a window, tells “Izumi” that the “Elric Shrimps” have come for a visit, she puts down an Alchemy book and says that she’s feeling a little better today. You’re right Al, that doesn’t sound good. What’s wrong with Teacher? Oh. Oh dear. Ed just got done kicked in the face across the street. I believe I have a good read on Teach, now.

To menacing music, McKickyFace steps outside, looking down on Ed with shadowed face and glowing red eyes. [McKickyFace]: “Hello, my stupid pupil! I hear you’ve become one of the military’s dogs!” And then the creaky door betrays Al’s hiding spot, she turns… and Al’s cuteness factor is unstoppable, McKickyFace instantly transforms to Izumi, commenting on how Al has grown. Aw, that’s nope never mind just a ruse to easily throw Al to the dirt. Jeez, for someone “not feeling well�� you’re tossing these chumps around like ah that’s blood. No Teach, I don’t think you’re “perfectly fine.” Sig tells her not to exert herself and oh they’re married. One, that’s adorable, and two, ok that explains why they went to Sig. But above all else that’s adorable. Also funny how their love is so overpowering that Ed’s just standing there unnerved, getting bumped in the head by floating hearts. Inside, the four are sitting around a table, the conversation as typical being about the Philosopher’s Stone. Teacher doesn’t know much about it though, says it doesn’t hold much interest for her. Why’s that, do you know the secret or just have that much faith in your own abilities? Sig contributes that there was one guy in Central who knew about it. A guy called Hohenheim? Whoa Ed what’s wrong? And Al, do you recognize it too? Ah, image of Beardy! Teacher asks why the reaction to the name, Al confirms that it is indeed Papa Elric. Who “ran out” on them when they were little? Damnit man, why do you have to perpetuate the trope of Absent Anime Father? Flashback! Mama and Papa Elric are standing at the door, Baby!Ed and Baby!Al happened to be up early in the morning. Mama’s of course all over her children, but Papa Elric… just glares down at Ed, that’s the only description I can use for that look. Then he turns without a word, and walks out the door. ...seriously? Dude, dick move. So Mama Elric did say later that Papa left, but not with any finality. Then we get various scenes of Mama Elric and the Babies being cute, until… Mama Elric collapsed on the floor. Back in the present, with Ed still lost in Flashback-Land, Ed asks if Papa Elric had said anything about the Stone. Teacher says it was something about a life-long dream coming true. Even happy when he said it. Then she gets up, punches Ed out his sulk, and says that they’re going to eat.

At the dinner, Sig offers Al some food… uh oh. Have the Brother’s really not explained about Al’s state? Wow, really subtle attempt to change the subject to the last episode there Ed. I can tell Sig’s not buying it, he just looks to Izumi drinking her tea. Another flashback? A big storm in their hometown, the young Elrics are looking down with the other townsfolk as men try to keep a sandbag barrier holding against a flood. The wall’s breaking, everyone’s pulling back- except for Teacher, who’s striding past them as the epic string music picks up. With a clap of her hands (ooh, so Ed picked up on not using TCs from her!), she earthbends a bunch of walls up to hold back the river. And then Sweetie Sig walks over with an umbrella as she turns to the crowd. Who don’t recognize her? Ah right, a passerby, she lives in Dublith after all. And then she vomits blood again. Oh dear. Ah, so the boys were too short to see the blood this first time, all they saw was someone being Awesome and Saving The Town. So of course they run up and ask her to be their teacher. Buuut maybe don’t call her “Old Lady”. She refuses at first, she doesn’t teach and she’s just passing through, but when she’s told that they two boys clinging to her arm are orphans? [Pretty Lady]: “How am I supposed to say no to that?” And now for the first lesson: apparently, getting dropped off on an island and left to fend for themselves. Without any alchemy, even. Lady, I have to question your teaching methods.

Titledrop! “One is all… and all is one.” They have- one month?! Good Leto woman, you’re leaving them on their own for a freaking month? Yeah, the boy’s aren’t doing too well their first night. Trying (and failing) to sleep on some palm leaves, stomach’s rumbling. A lesson in wilderness survivalism, then? Ad-break picture of Sig and Izumi looking ready for a fight, shows last name of ‘Curtis’. So what’s their story? Sig seems to be working away as a butcher, a proper butcher unlike a certain Pudgy we’ve met before. But what about Izumi? Where did she get her training, and learn how to do non-TC Alchemy? Aaand where the first picture was of them looking tough, the second is of Big Tough Sig fanning his blood-spitting wife. Lady, maybe you should get that looked at. Oh, show’s answering my question already, apparently they work the butcher shop together. Sig’s wondering if they’re doing alright, Izumi stands by her lesson as being the best way to learn the essentials of alchemy. The same way she was taught, even. Casual throw of sharpened knife to Sig who does a two-finger catch (making me wonder if he has any training?), Big Butcher says he’s more concerned about their lives being in danger. Izumi scoffs, saying her training began with fighting bears for a whole month in the mountains. In winter, no less! ...couldn’t help but notice that you look a bit older that the Elrics in that picture, Izumi. On the island itself, the Brothers have just caught a rabbit in a snare! However, it leaves them with a live rabbit, so they’ll have to kill it themse- Oh that is just not fair. Rabbit’s going full Cute Anime Mode to avoid being dinner. The Brothers are playing Hot Potato with the knife to avoid using it. Until a passing fox takes advantage of the easy meal, and runs off with the rabbit. But look! The fox took the rabbit to feed its cubs! Aw, that’s sweet. Then the cubs start eating, and the Brother’s quickly decide to try fish instead. Yep, kinda hard to fish without rods. Maybe you can carve a spear? Or just build a lean-to, and go without food for a few more days. Yeesh, Ed’s not doing too well. Had a moment where he hallucinated Al as food and chomped, and now is alternating between nomming on ants and screaming about how gross they are. Oh, turning point! Ed’s talking about how he’s alive because he ate the ants. Um, no? I seriously doubt those few bugs gave you enough calories to make up for a few days foodless. Or rather it’s a metaphorical thing, how Ed’s alive because he consumed life. And then I guess he resolves that if he’s going to eat life to live, and by Leto he’s going to be at the top of the food chain! Cue montage of the Brothers going all Lord of the Flies, fashioning tools, chasing down a rabbit and killing it before a passing fox this time, starting a fire. They even get to the point that they toss some cooked food to the fox cubs in passing. Finally, it’s the night before Teacher’s to come back. Al asks Ed if he’s figured out what she meant by “One is all, and all is one.” Ed confirms that after he ate the ants, he thought his body feeding the ants, going to earth and becoming grass that the rabbits would eat... ...if I wasn’t doing a Professor Moody theme this episode, this would be a perfect spot for a Lion King gif. So yeah, Ed thought about the food chain. But also the island, how long ago it was under water, and thousands of years from now it could be the top of a mountain. It’s an “all things are connected” lesson, how in the span of the cosmos even our Main Characters are smaller than ants are to them. Test time! Teacher arrives and asks for their answer. [Al]: “All is one!” [Ed]: “And one is me!” Teacher… bursts out laughing? But she accepts the answer, and says the real training starts now. Now in Dublith, Teach is casually reading a cookbook while she lectures about TCs as the basis of Alchemy and absently spars with the Brothers. Sick moves lady, her technique seems to be all about deflecting and redirecting their attacks. That’s Judo, I think? Reviewing the lesson, Al calls her out on not using TCs when she casts, they ask how she does it. Teacher says something cryptic about herself being the matrix, that it might be something they learn if they see the truth. Wait… truth, or ‘Truth’? And yup, Ed wakes up with a realization: Teacher has seen the truth too. The next day, the Brothers are meeting with Teacher in the front yard, presumably to ask her. But she suddenly Alchemizes a spear from the wall, strikes out at Ed who has to TC-less change his arm to a blade in defense. That, on top of Al being armor and Ed missing two limbs confirms it for her: Edward’s seen it too. Which begs the question: how did Izumi see the Truth? Did she try Human Transmutation too? Yep, she did. And the rebound struck her… stomach. And in the center… Ah. That’s who she was trying to bring back. Izumi confirms the sad tale, why she committed the taboo. And when she says that it must have been awful for them, the Elrics adopt their customary bravado about it. ‘Not a big deal’, Al’s got his list of stuff to do, ect ect... [Izumi]: “You darling little idiots. It’s ok to hurt.” ... [Ed]: “Forgive us.” [Al]: “We’re so sorry, Teacher.” [Ed]: “Please forgive us.” [Al]: “We’re so sorry.” [Ed]: “Please forgive us.” [Al]: “We’re so sorry.” Flashback to the island, the young brothers expounding on living being the deconstruction and reconstruction of old life to new life [Ed]: “Alchemy is part of that flow. And the flow is life itself.” End-credits. Oof. Started out as a mostly amusing episode, was mostly looking for details on Absent Papa Elric. But nope, Brotherhood continues to be brutal to my emotions.

#wmtw #where my twin watches #ranubis #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 12

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momo-de-avis · 5 years

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Wordtober Day 16: Wild

A horror lite short story about the Lusitanian people fucking HATING the Romans, enjoy. And yes, it’s THAT Sertorius, this takes place immediately before his war.

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Caetobriga slept, and the guards kept watch.

On the pathway leading to the forest beyond the city, Quintus stood tediously, body sore from the uptight position and the tightly held lance on his hand, torches burning on the dark walls of the archway, and even his neck ached from the weight of his helmet. He took a deep breath and adjusted his position, though next to him, Caelius didn’t seem slightly bothered with his slouched shoulders and the yawn he didn’t even care to conceal with a hand.

Quintus wanted to slap him on the nape, but the reckless guard took notice of the stern look on his face and straightened himself up with swiftness.

Nights in Caetobriga were boring, though the days could be filled with screams and loud voices far too irritating for him, but Quintus had followed Sulla thus far, deep into the lands of Hispania, to fight a war only to end his career as a miserable guard. Two years fending off the nagging Sertorius in the name of Gaius Valerius Flavius to keep control of the savages in Iberia had rendered him one less finger on the left hand and a blow to the leg that had left him bedridden for seventeen days, but at least the region was back in order. The stubborn propraetor had retreated south, and last Quintus had heard, he had been ransacked by pirates.

Though, being honest to himself, Quintus knew he had never been too great a soldier. Decent, certainly, enough to suffer a cut or bruise, perhaps, but nothing life-threatening. He had never gone past the rank of princeps, which was in itself a miracle as it was. Experience enough to fight in the second line, though always on foot—he’d never rise up to the demands of the cavalry. He’d be a legionary his whole life—and one guarding a Lusitanian city, of all places.

Though the peoples had been tamed, properly guided into civilized society, as they needed to. Cattle herders, most of all were; Quintus had laughed merciless at the sight of two young boys marvelled at a simple stylus and wax board. Some old hag had mumbled tales of a former slave freed from Rome having brought the toy with him some ten years ago, but that, Quintus suspected, was just her manner of acting dismissive, considering how the peoples there could be lying, cheating weasels. Even as construction was underway for the new thermae, those poor sheep-herders had looked up at the stone in marvel, blinded in delight, as if Selene rode her very own silver chariot in the skies.

The city was growing, but it was mostly just fish salting workshops everywhere, which brought about an unbearable smell of fish and salt all year round, moon after moon—either from the workshops themselves or the river. It had been charming enough the first few days, something unique to the region—Quintus had even thought it to be a pretty sight, idyllic and clean—but now, it forced him to burn herbs inside his quarters for the sake of keeping that stench away from his nose.

At least, the peoples there had been subdued, paying their dues and herded into civility. Had it not been for the mighty intervention of the Empire, those madmen would still be squabbling through their forests like wolves or bears.

Yet however Quintus knew he sounded quite dismissive towards, there was a part of him that feared a confrontation with a proper Lusitanian army as they had faced at the time of the general who had embarrassed Rome. An average legionary like him, facing warmongering people whose women were said to sleep with gladiuses under their pillows and were quicker than the men to grab a spear and impale an enemy with less mercy than man—he’d be doomed.

After all, technically the Lusitanian had never been defeated. The only way the Romans managed to conquer them was through bribery and assassination, though a man like Quintus would never say those words if he valued his life.

Quintus blinked his eyes in boredom as the light of the torch next to him flickered in the darkness, an unexpected breeze passing by, and nearly fell asleep on his feet had he not noticed something strange about Caelius next to him. Rambunctious as he was, fond of drinking and visiting local brothels wherever he was, Quintus thought him as much a coward as he sometimes could be. Reason why, he believed, they had both been left there to guard the walls of an unprotected city that, in reality, had no threats outside its walls.

The Lusitanians were gone, subdued or tamed like chickens, anyway. Sometimes he even thought the walls were useless.

Caelius squinted his eyes and gave a step forward; this time, Quintus’ cold and stern look did not send him a warning, not even as he tipped his lance and gave him a hard tap on the greaves on his shins, a soft and metallic growl fluttering for a brief moment. Caelius waved a hand, shushed him quietly, and gave another step forward, gazing into the complex mesh of trees that rose in the distance, making way to the forests ahead.

“I think I saw someone there,” he murmured. “In the forest.”

Likely, Quintus thought, though what he couldn’t understand was why he should care about it. “And? Some wanderer, chances are. A beggar or a traveller who got lost, or—” maybe someone avoiding some form of taxation—he’d heard of those, though Quintus generally minded not the mathematics behind the logistics of the Empire. “I don’t know, just don’t mind it.”

“But it looked like a woman.” Caelius’ eyes glimmered under the torches in an urgency Quintus seldom saw. “She looked in trouble.”

He sighed, peered ahead and tried to see. The forest was still and silent, with nothing interesting to it, but Quintus put some effort into it nonetheless, if only to appear concerned enough that Caelius would leave the matter be.

“I see nothing,” he replied, bored. “It’s just a f—”

“There!” Caelius shouted, not minding the hour of the night, and his finger jutted forward.

Quintus followed his eyes and saw what he meant: a woman, indeed, dressed in a dingy white, or perhaps it was grey, tunic that flapped freely about her body, torn to shreds at the shoulders and ripped apart from the knee down. He could see she had black hairs, cascading over her face in a disarray of a dancing shadow, and her arms were fully exposed—he saw a hand lifted in despair and then tumble down as she collapsed on the ground.

Before he could say anything, Caelius took off, lance in hand, rushing through the humid soil to aid the woman. Huffing—certain, this time, he was going to be sent to the front lines of whatever next war for his mistake—Quintus followed him in the darkness.

The woman fell to the ground, arms splayed about as she wept silently, and up-close, Quintus could see the damage her dress had suffered. It seemed made of some rough material, like burlap, improper for garments, and it exposed her filthy, brown feet, cut and bruised from the run. She raised her teary eyes, big and blue, glowing like the moon above, and pulled her hairs away from her pink lips as she breathed deeply.

“Help me,” she murmured, nearly out of breath. Her trembling hand pointed back, and clearly in a state of urgency and unrest, she began to heave herself, ignoring the twigs and dirt on her body, half-dragging herself towards the forest. “My child,” she mumbled—there was something about the way she spoke, Quintus thought, as if she had recently learned how to speak. “My child. There’s a boar—”

“Oof,” Quintus sighed, ready to drag her back to the city and—perhaps, who knew—arrest her for… something. He’d figure something out. Either way, he knew there was no way a mediocre legionary like himself would dare to face a boar alone—babe or no babe involved.

But Caelius seemed to have caught on to his hesitation, and quickly enough, he furrowed his brow in what was clearly a deep sense of insult that Quintus was unsure if he felt it aimed at himself or the woman.

“You’re not walking away,” he said. “She needs help.”

“She needs a javelin.”

“For Juno, you’re worse than a drunken pig.” Somehow, the peculiar insult seemed to hurt Quintus’ feelings far more than he had expected. Caelius gathered himself, patted his knees and laid out a hand for the woman to take. “Come along,” he said. “Show me where you’ve seen this boar.”

Quintus thought it strange. Caelius had always been a rowdy one, a lover of grapes and bread as much as Bacchus, his silent guardian god from the cradle. He was far too carefree for the stern rigidness of a legionary’s life, and gotten far too many a reprimand from all and any centurion whose host he’d fought under. Quintus had seen him scrubbing floors and cleaning weapons as punishment so often he had, at one point, wondered if he hadn’t been secretly assigned both duties after all.

But he was not brave. If there was one thing Caelius was not was brave. He cowered before any hint of confrontation, invoking Mars and Juno to protect him against the brutes who saw in his slender face and sleazy self a perfect punching bag, and always ran away. At the slightest drunken brawl, one could hear the tapping sound of Caelius’ sandals as he ran down the streets, with his tail between his legs. Even in the war, he had served far below Quintus—a mere light infantry soldier, though sometimes he doubted he’d done any fighting at all. Perhaps he was just the cook, or the tanner.

Quintus had seen, however, his infatuation for any a woman who pranced before his eyes, and had easily understood a nice pair of waddling hips would be enough to entice him into a night of frolicking. Though he seemed to have a peculiar taste: he always preferred Lusitanian women; though Quintus thought it strange, for he deemed them unattractive—too brute, no delicacy to their touch, and far, far too loud.

Sighing loudly this time, Quintus watched as Caelius patted the woman behind the shoulder, gently sheltering her weeping voice in his arms, almost as if he cared for her. The dog was willing to get himself mauled by a boar of all things just for a pair of Lusitanian tits. He had to follow him, of course; if anything were to happen to him, Quintus would get the end of the stick still, so he had to follow him into the forest and pray for Diana’s guidance against a ravaging beast such as a boar.

The forest was calm and still, though everywhere he could hear the snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves beneath the soles of Caelius’ sandals, and from between the soft peeping of nightly birds, came the sobs and wails of the woman. Strangely, the air felt denser there, as if the particles of humidity shifted and rubbed against each other to bring about something… different. A different smell, to begin with—the nauseating scent of fish and salt began to waft away, and Quintus was left with the pure, deep breath of a simple forest: pine trees and wet earth. How he had missed it.

When he focused on the narrow path, smashed between brambles and junipers ahead of him, he realized he had lost sight of Caelius and the woman. Startled by the sense of solitude, as if the forlorn child before a boar now was him, Quintus raised his spear and readied himself for a confrontation he wasn’t even sure was bound to happen or not, but he was never too careful. He trod on, in cautious and soft steps, muffled by the warm earth beneath his sandals, casting glances around while searching for the presence of two people that should be there.

But he heard nothing, and he saw nothing.

The forest grew denser, and soon, the path had disappeared entirely. Now, he walked down a layer of crushed leaves and broken twigs, pushing away thorny bushed that tugged at his tunic with every step, forgetting about the boar entirely and using his lance as a mere stick. The air seemed different there, and it was somehow more difficult to breathe—or perhaps he was just tired and out of shape.

Then, a fog appeared, though from where, he could not tell. A simple mantle of white and grey wafted in the air, slowly covering his vision though not enough that he could not see his path, and drifted between the leaves and the trees. Quintus stopped. “Caelius!” He shouted; his voice resonated about, echoing in the distance, but there was otherwise no answer. “Caelius, where are you?” Nothing. He then noticed the absence of something else—the sounds of crushing leaves and twigs of their footsteps had disappeared; all he could hear was his own rising breath, raging through his ears as his heart thumped rapidly against his chest, though he thoroughly denied himself the fact that he was, indeed, slightly panicked. “Caelius, if this is a prank, I swear by the stone, I’ll have you counting grains until the rest of your days in the army!”

No answer.

Quintus thought he should turn back, ignore Caelius altogether, maybe claim he had deserted instead of telling the truth, for the sake of saving his own arse at least, and turned around. He trod on, now expecting for the narrow path to appear at any moment—but he walked, and walked, and walked, and nothing appeared. All he could see was a thick mesh of vegetation curling over himself as if nature wanted him trapped, and it was somehow becoming more suffocating by the step, the thorny bushes now not just tugging his clothes, but scratching his skin. His lance was nearly useless, and Quintus used his cape to protect himself against the savage vegetation, but it was getting harder to move—and he wondered where was the bloody path he had seen.

He stopped. The density ended, giving way to a clearing; ahead of him, in a tiny spot that opened up to a canopy of branches filled with heavy, green leaves, there was a slab of white stone, standing vertically against the brown earth, and another stone lying horizontally by its feet. Quintus neared it gently; a ray of moonlight fell right in the middle of the clearing, painting the small blotch of soil a pale silver, and when he squinted his eyes he noticed the dark blotch on the second slab was old, dried blood.

It was an altar, but as he neared to read the engraving on it, he realized he didn’t know the god’s or goddess’ name on it. Banduam sacrum. Perhaps it was one of the Lusitanian’s old gods, though he had never heard of that name.

Quintus stood up and looked around, now trying to comprehend just how he had ended up there, again focused on turning back—which he nearly did, until the loud crack of a snapping twig brought him back. He looked ahead, past the altar, and thought he saw something between the trees, a dancing shape that hovered about between trunks and twigs, and with his lance hoisted, gripping it strongly, he marched on.

He passed the thick meshes of vegetation, wrapped in his cape in care, and passed through two cypresses that grew in a strange manner, like two colossuses standing before a sacred entrance—how strange he felt at the connection he made. The moonlight seemed stronger there, perhaps because the trees weren’t filled with leaves, and it cast a single branch of light onto what he was positive, absolutely certain, to be a circular house with a roof made of thatch.

Just like the people there used to build.

Now, his senses were fully active, paying attention to sight, smell and hearing, not minding any physical inconvenience of his situation. He was right—it was a thatched house, circular and inserted into a small yard, surrounded by a circular wall—and there were more. More houses, laid about, just like a proper settlement. And not just houses—people were living there. He could see thin threads of smoke escaping the shy chimneys atop the roofs, and swore he could hear a child’s giggle somewhere, yet somehow the place felt stuck in absolute desolation, as if he walked among a ghost city of the past where nothing but death and absence existed.

“Caelius?” He called again, though now not in a shout, just an octave above his regular speaking voice—and no answer. Whatever sounds there were, however, they ceased; Quintus froze and focused on one of the houses, from where he could see the trembling light of perhaps a torch coming from below the wooden door, and thought of how primitive they seemed, living like renegade farmers, with nothing but sheep and their belligerent attitudes. The light shuddered and then flickered away, and he was cast into darkness.

In fact, it seemed it was far darker than before. Quintus turned around, and nearly screamed, lance now hoisted up in the air. Before him, on jutting branches of nearby trees, corpses hung—rotting, putrid and pale, swaying about in the fresh breeze as that nauseating salty scent returned, but now it was stronger and more revolting. It smelled of blood, of putrid meat, of fish.

Shuddering in dread, Quintus neared the corpses enough to look at them, and was trying to understand whether he had missed on them or they weren’t there just a moment before when he recognized two of the men. Maximus Arrius Opilio, another legionary, infantry like Caelius, who everyone assumed had deserted his post after getting into a gambling vice in a tavern that had earned him quite the debt, and Tertius Nepos Caepio, gone, simply gone, without a word or notice, from his post one night. Both had been guards in the city, though not anywhere near where Quintus and Caelius had stood—and now, they hung by the neck.

But they had not been hung, Quintus was quick to assess. They had bled—and a lot. Their clothes were ratty and thick with dried blood, and they showed several bruises and cuts—he assumed the killing blow to be the one at the neck, a swift slice across the trachea that looked clean, done by a strong hand, perhaps that of a man accustomed to war. But they showed more injuries: cuts along the arm, in precise, conspicuous places—as if they had been slowly bled out.

Quintus dreaded discovering why.

He gulped, but his mouth was dry; he looked around, studied again the thatch roof of every house, the wooden doors and even the silence—and though there was nothing, he was certain that place was inhabited still.

But it was impossible; the Lusitanians had been defeated, subdued, tamed; whatever savagery they had been up to, it couldn’t last long, and soon the Empire would crush them effectively and order would be restored, though the scene didn’t look like any sort of resistance, just a small settlement of people who refused to be civil and live under the law of Rome. Most likely, practising some sort of witchery with their gods, considering the mutilation on those poor guards and legionaries. He had to go back, he had to return and report the crime—now, Quintus only wished he could find the way there again, if he could find his way out first.

He gave a step forward, but from behind a tree, a large stick jumped and hit him in the stomach. Shoved, Quintus staggered back, and he was positive someone removed his helmet, just reaching in and casually taking it off, for a hard blow to his nape. He fell back against the ground and blinked his eyes wearily, falling dangerously to sleep. Fighting the haze, he looked up when a silhouette appeared, and saw a pale face crowned with black hairs that, a moment before, had been in complete disarray.

When he came to, he was tied with ropes and lying on a cold slab, and something warm burned to his left. Quintus wiggled in bondage, moved his head as the throbbing pain snapped behind his eyes, and found a burning bonfire right there, flames rising tall and mighty before a wave of cheers that erupted from an adoring crowd. His breath rose, his heart thumped—they all spoke a language he could not understand.

A hand grabbed him by the hairs, pulled him back and forced him to stare at the night skies. It was a full moon, he noticed, and tears popped from the lashes as he thought with certainty he was going to die. He wondered then how could no one see a bonfire that big from Caetobriga, burning right in the middle of the forest just outside its walls, or how had nobody found the hidden settlement of Lusitanian people, the same they had believed for years to have been tamed and subdued to order—even gone. The staggering, petrifying thought occurred then that he might not be in his world, but another—a world only those who served the strange god in the altar he’d found in the woods could enter.

He rolled his eyes to look at his captor, but there were two: the woman with black hairs, now far from the fragile, wailing mother who had lost a child to a boar. Instead, she appeared tall and mighty, her face contorted into a frown, corners of her lips turned into pure disgust, and a coldness to her blue eyes that made Quintus shudder in dread. But she wasn’t alone; someone else was by her side.

Caelius. His former jubilance, that had earned him so many punishments in the past, was gone, washed away by a semblance Quintus didn’t recognize anymore. Shadows were cast above his eyes, sombre and empty, as if nothing existed inside of him beyond a conspicuous objective he had set out to complete, and in his hollowness, there was a message of absolute desolation, loss and perdition. Quintus looked at his face, only partly kissed by the silver moonlight, and thought with absolute certainty that Caelius had never been the frolicking young man he had appeared to be, but a great actor set out to perform a precise play.

“Caelius,” Quintus called, his sobs coming then, so miserably crying he felt the unexpected taste of his own spit slipping through his wet lips, and his vision blurred. “What are you doing?”

“Caelius is what you roman scum call me,” he said—even his voice was different, lower somehow, and distorted, like nothing but a faint projection of a voice Quintus had grown bored of listening to in the past, brought by a gusting wind—but not his, not really his. “But my birth name is Caturo.” He looked to the side, and for the first time, shared a smile with the woman. “Meet my sister Aura, Quintus.”

“Wh—” his breath escaped him, and Quintus tried to say something logical, but there was shock and confusion only, far too much for him to completely grapple the full meaning of what was happening. “You’re betraying Rome! You’re betraying the g—”

“I’m serving my gods.” He produced a dagger from somewhere Quintus missed, though he was positive someone had passed him, and that someone had been the woman, seemingly named Aura. She smiled when she looked down at the blade, now dancing in her brother’s hand, and then at her prey, the man tied up on a slab—he finally realized—that was neither altar nor just stone, but a sacrificial table. In fact, it became so obvious to Quintus, when he looked down with an uncomfortable tilt of his head and saw dried blood all over, he wasn’t surprised.

“Those men—” Quintus mumbled. “Maximus, and Tertius—”

“Blood spilled for the glory of Bandua and Ataegina.” His lips twisted; the fire reflecting in his eyes, and Quintus thought he looked like a fresco of Vulcan he had seen in Rome in his earlier days—and though the memory was ridiculous, it made him flinch in pain. He missed his home. He missed Rome. He missed the simple life of a boy destined to become a legionary, unaware that he’d be so mediocre, at best he’d be a great sacrifice to a foreign god one day.

“You’ll b-be in… in trouble, C-caelius—”

The words fought against his beating heart, that seemed to push them down, one by one, with every flogging motion, but Quintus persisted—though it seemed useless. Caelius, or Caturo, only smiled wider, and slid a finger across the glinting blade of the dagger that now sparkled the refracted sparks of the bonfire.

“Tomorrow, I will tell Caetobriga you deserted. That you, nothing but a mediocre legionary who earned his living as a princeps, but who got so severely injured fighting a battle for Sulla his centurion simply quit him and sent him to Hispania to serve as a boring guard, saw a woman pleading for help as she ran away from a boar, and like the absolute coward you always were, Quintus, you fled. I will tell them you fled deep into the forest and were gone before I could stop you.”

“And they shan’t ever dream,” the woman said, her voice now lilting in a melodious tune of nothing short of absolute and utter joy, “that your blood ran for Bandua and Ataegina, for the strength of our men and our women, and those who will make roman blood run again.”

Quintus closed his eyes when she laughed; he thought her laugh was distorted, acute, and it hurt his ears just to listen. Now, he was panting, and from all around, strange chants in that alien tongue came, a tongue he had thought suppressed a long time ago, subdued to Rome’s will and tamed, but that now rose in a mellifluous song of sacrifice and bloodshed—and he was to be torn to shreds.

No, Quintus thought, snapping his eyes open as the blade rose, letting out a bellow before he felt it pierce deep into his flesh, tearing skin and clothes apart, and the warmth of his blood came. He wasn’t just going to be sacrificed; if the corpses of the men had told him something, it was that these Lusitanian barbarians were going to make him suffer in the name of Rome’s bloodshed.

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A/N: The name Caturo is straight-up borrowed from Uma Deusa na Bruma, a book about the last lusitanian resistance that I cannot suggest enough.

Yes I used Aura again, it just seemed appropriate and I am lacking imagination rn

___

Past Challenges:

Wordtober Day 1: Ring

Wordtober Day 2: Mindless

Wordtober Day 3: Bait

Wordtober Day 4: Freeze

Wordtober Day 5: Build I

Wordtober Day 6: Build II

Wordtober Day 7: Enchanted (Encantada)

Wordtober Day 8: Frail

Wordtober Day 9: Swing

Wordtober Day 10: Pattern

Wordtober Day 11: Snow

(Skipped Day 12)

Wodrtober Day 13: Ash

Wordtober Day 14: Overgrown

Wordtober Day 15: Legend

#wordtober #writing #my writing #creative writing #fiction #FUCK ROME YEAH #my wordtober

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