#slashing her claws and gnashing her teeth at anything that moves — what happens when that's someone who looks up to her?

[false-oasis]

(CW: EoD Spoilers — What Lies Beneath Spoilers)

So I was talking with @/saladposse last night about the oni section and what the oni might use to torment our Commanders.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #eod spoilers #gw2 spoilers #living story spoilers #I don't have a dedicated commander — there's a new commander for every expansion/ls combo who I feel fits the vibes better #Sarabi's kind of the de facto though and while there's some regrets she has — her inner demons manifests in what ifs and self-hate #by that I mean things she knows are true about herself that she wants executed and burred 6 feet under #and while it may have started off with tybalt and the whispers #the next stage wasn't eir but the heat was turned up WAY FUCKING HIGH with almorra and the charr/drizzlewood being stage 2 #the last stage would revolve around her bloodkin sister Kiarra and her niece and nephew #what would they think of her? the only thing she's poised to do is kill #how many lives is she willing to sacrifice? for the cause? for /her/ cause? #slashing her claws and gnashing her teeth at anything that moves — what happens when that's someone who looks up to her? #who she swore above anyone else to protect? so that they in their young lives could have a future? #the last demon would be her snapping to reality after pinning her nephew to the ground while her niece is pleading with her to stop #illusion fades away and it's rama being choked with gorrik holding a gun at her

[lollytea]

Chanting POST THE DRAGON POST THE DRAGON POST THE DRAGON POST THE DRAGON!!!!!

So Willow is out on dragon patrol and it was supposed to be a pretty standard night. But she gets tangled up in some business that it's kinda way too much for her to handle and she has to fight a creature that no dragon in training should be fighting.

So Willow ends up gravely injured. Like. A gnarly slash torn across her abdomen. The creature doesn't bother to finish her off and just leaves her to bleed out right there on the forest floor.

Willow is angry. She's scared. She's in so much pain that she's hysterical. She's gonna die and she can barely think straight. But it hurts too much to pull herself up so she can only lay there. She's lost control of her dragon powers and can't even shift back into her human form. She's hyperventilating. She's gonna die. She doesn't want to die.

And then, there's a sheet of red light blinding her. Willow would know the obnoxious harshness of that light anywhere and she's already hissing and growling before she even sees him.

"Get away from me!" She snarls, using what remains of her energy to writhe and make threats, but she knows deep down its not gonna DO anything. "Get away!!"

"Calm down" He snaps, an almost desperate edge to his voice.

Willow doesn't.

The Golden Guard tries to get closer to her wound but the vicious swipe of her claws and the gnashing of her teeth won't allow for that. He hears him growl impatiently, sees the blur of motion out of the corner of her eye and suddenly there's a sharp spike of pain behind her ear. Willow's fury extinguishes from that touch and she is subdued to a soft whimper.

"Don't....move." He hisses in her ear. His hold on her ear is not nearly as painful as it could be, if he put a little more pressure on it. It's a threat. Move and she'll experience pain beyond her imagination. Nobody's ever severely hurt her there before but all her dragon instincts are screaming at her to co-operate.

Willow doesn't move.

"Thanks" He says in a way that sounds habitual. Willow does not believe he meant to say it. "You'll only bleed out faster if you keep squirming around. Now stay still until I say so."

"You want me to take orders from you?" Willow asks through her ragged breaths. "I'd rather you just hurry up and slay me."

"You're not dying tonight, Dragon."

Willow's brain skips over itself and she can't hide the blatant shock in her voice. "What?"

He's already knelt down by her wound and is rummaging in his belt pouch. He fishes out a small kit and pops the lid open. Thread that gleams silver being pushed through a nondescript needle that Willow suspects are also the magical kind.

Eda has some back at the shop. Thread that never snaps. Needles that can pierce through anything. Perfect for stitching up the thick, leathery skin of a dragon.

There is no other alternative explanation for what is currently happening. The Golden Guard is preparing to stitch her up.

"Why...?" She asks.

She feels the first incision of the needle.

"I did not make it this far just to slay my first dragon like THIS." He answers. "It"d be pathetic. I'd be pathetic."

"Nobody would know...." Willow finds herself saying. The pain might be getting to her head.

"I'd know."

A silence falls between them as the Guard continues his stitch work. "It's gonna scar."

"Aw, man...."

"Hey, it's a scar or death. Take it or leave it."

"Your bedside manner sucks."

He makes a noise. If she didn't know better it might have been a snort. Or maybe it was a scoff. Or maybe he just makes weird noises when he sews.

"This is humiliating...." She mutters.

"For you and me both..."

She opens her mouth. She wants to say that it doesn't have to be humiliating for him. Because there is no reason to be doing this.

He doesn't have to slay her. But he could have left her here. So long as Amity Blight is alive, there's a worthy trophy for him. It never had to be her.

"Magic thread or no magic thread," He says. "You're still gonna need proper treatment. Do you....have somewhere you can go....?"

Willow's mind swims with options. Home to Gilbert. Eda's place. Luz...or Gus...

"Yeah. My family."

There's a prolonged pause and she doesn't know why. But then he says "Okay. Go to your family."

The word family sounds strange on his tongue.

"Listen" He mutters and Willow can hear the venom leaking back into his tone. "I don't want to see you again until you've recovered. You aren't going to turn me into the laughing stock whose first kill was an incapacitated dragon."

"Should I say Thank You?"

"If you do I'll swallow all my pride and slice you through right now."

"Phew," She manages to joke in spite of her exhaustion. "Thank God you're not expecting anything. I was dreading giving you a little thanksies kiss."

He makes that noise again. "Shut up."

She can't describe the way his voice sounded then. Soft. Like there was a smile hidden away. But then again, she might still be delirious from the pain.

He doesn't say goodbye. One moment he was there and the next he wasn't.

And Willow has now has a new scar.

ANYWAY. Several weeks later. Or maybe it's months. Who cares. The point is Luz and Gus have been informed by Willow of just how much Hunter has been missing out on. So they've been determined to drag him places. It's the beach this time.

Hunter was not prepared for Willow Park in a swimsuit. Tho tbf he hasn't been prepared for Willow Park in anything but the world literally does not give a shit about what he's prepared for. And now she's hanging around in a bikini and it's got cute little flowers on it because Willow Park loves cute little flowers. And also...it is showing parts of her that he's never seen before. Her whole arms are on display holy shit!!!!

And there's a stomach too. And maybe, if she were anyone else, if he were anyone else, he wouldn't have paid much notice. But because he was Hunter and she was Willow, his eyes are all over her stomach.

It started off as just teen hormones but once he saw it, there was a non-hormonal explanation for his lingering eyes.

Something in him shifts.

The scar is jagged and peculiar looking. The stitch work was a hasty job.

There's no reason for his instincts to be ringing alarm bells right now. Its likely a surgery scar or something. Tons of people have scars on their belly

But Hunter has instincts, whether he likes them or not.

He doesn't like them by the way. Because a lot of the time they're wrong. They scream at him a lot about Belos and the Emperor's Clan and other things that are safe to him.

And also....he can't do it. He can't think about this. Because he can't bear to accept it. She's Willow Park. He can't....if she was then....he can't. No. They're surgery scars.

He makes his brain shut up and believe what it wants to believe. Like he does all the time.

But still, he can't stop staring at that scar. Even when he tries to ignore it....something inside of him is rioting.

Willow is standing in front of him and she's babbling away about something. But for once, Hunter isn't paying attention.

He doesn't know what possessed him to do it. But before he even realizes what's happening, his palm is settled over Willow's tummy scar, unwilling to accept the possibility of what it could be, but unable to not be inexplicably drawn to it.

A second passes. Then two.

Then the inner turmoil shatters as Hunter realizes what the FUCK he's doing.

It hits him like a truck. His hand. Her belly. His gaze travels upwards, afraid of what he'll see, and she finds her slackjawed expression, fluorescent pink splashed across her cheeks.

Hunter's whole face boils worse than any sunburn could give him.

And suddenly the focus of Willow's tummy revolves entirely around hormones again.

#american dragon au #initially written for discord as a brainrotting scenario #so that explains why its a little sloppy and cannot decide ifs a snippet or just me describing something

[rocket-remmy]

Captain Moose and The Vicious Vampire || Otto and Remmy

TIMING: Late September PARTIES: @gravityfissure and @whatsin-yourhead SUMMARY: Remmy tries on their new fair prize for size. Otto needs to stop taking walks at night.

Ever since Bea’s birthday party, Remmy had been feeling an uplift in their mood. There was still a lot to be worried or even upset about, but if there was one thing they had learned, it was that attitude was more important than the situation. If they could just keep their head up, then things wouldn’t seem so bad. Couldn’t be so bad. They would find a way to fix things, and they’d find a way to fit into their new life. Even if they still felt that little tremor of panic when they went outside. Going for walks daily had helped, but Remmy still had an aversion to going outside at night. Today, they’d donned their new craft fair socks and spent most of the day walking around the common. And the more they walked, the more confident they felt. In fact, they began wondering why they didn’t go out more. There were so many people who needed help. A kid whose ice cream had fallen needed a new cone. A woman who had lost her phone needed help finding it. (They found it one of the trash cans wrapped in her sandwich paper). A man was following a girl home and Remmy stepped in to stop him, giving a pleasant, innocent smile and badgering him till the girl was safe inside.

 But there was more to be done. They couldn’t let anyone see their face, though, right? They needed to be careful about this. They needed some sort of disguise. Perhaps a mask. Maybe even a cape, to cover themself with should the need arise. Morgan was out for the night, as was Deirdre, and Remmy took it upon themself to dig through the linen closet, grabbing the first things they could find that looked good enough. Snipped it to fit right, cut out holes or the eyes, and then donned their favorite shirt-- “Home is wherever my dog is”-- a pair of black pants and their only pair of boots. Gloves for extra measure, in case punching needed to happen. It was with this set up-- a cape with little cat’s with witch’s hats on, and a bandana for a mask that was a pink, sparkly galaxy, full of glitter-- that they found themself trouncing through the alleys of White Crest. And when they saw a shadowy figure following someone down an alley, they knew it was time to swoop in. 

It was late and recent events had left Otto feeling more drained than he cared to admit. Being dragged along on Deirdre’s shroom adventures had very real and damaging repercussions. One that had ended in the operating theatre and doctors claiming it was no small miracle by which he’d survived the impaling he’d suffered after his ‘fall’. The pain meds he’d been given took the edge off, but work rolled on and there was hardly any time that could be taken off even for a through and through laceration meaning the walk home at 3AM was inevitable. 

 The pain meds were also the reason Otto failed to notice the creature silently stalking him down the alleyway until it launched itself at his back colliding with enough force that he staggered, tipped over some bins and fell with an echoing clang while claws slashed and teeth gnashed; seeking purchase anywhere they might be capable of rending flesh from bone. “Fuck!” blind fingers scrabbled, seeking anything that might be able to help until they curled around a trash can lid dragging it across and shoving it in the way of the creature’s teeth. “”Help!” as if that would do anything. In a town like this he was almost certainly done for. Hells, what an underwhelming way to go out.

 The poor man in the alley was thrown from his spot by the larger, hulking figure. Remmy swooped down quickly. “Halt!” they shouted, the towel rustling behind them. The vampire, confused, turned to look at them. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own, erm--” Remmy looked the vampire up and down, realizing how much taller they were than them, but swallowed, standing confident again, “--strength!” Yeah, that made sense. That made a lot of sense. The vampire, still confused, dropped the other man and turned to face Remmy. “And who the fuck are you supposed to be, then, huh? This ain’t comic con, kid, go back to where you--” but before he could finish his sentence, Remmy had grabbed the front of his shirt and was tossing him up and over them. He landed hard on his back at the entrance of the alleyway, crashing into a few trash cans on his way. Remmy smirked. “Wanna try that again, villain?” they asked, before turning to look back at the guy. His arm was already in a sling, it was a good thing they’d shown up. “Are you alright?” they asked, holding a hand out to him. 

 Otto tasted asphalt and felt the sting of the ground against his face as he skidded to a stop. He also felt a wet stickiness against the lower right quadrant of his tee and a pain that made him suspect the stitches he’d gotten had popped, his hand immediately went to as voices continued behind him. Pushing himself over awkwardly, Otto propped himself up against one of the walls staring at the weird scenario playing out in front of him. A scenario whereby a masked and caped hero seemed to think it fitting to swoop in and save the day in- was that cape printed with cats wearing witches hats? The fuck? He blinked in apparent confusion, those pain meds must’ve been doing something seriously fucked up to his head. No way was his imagination usually this creative. But then the caped crusader was rag-dolling the vampire into the bins and Otto couldn’t bring himself to question the weirdness of this. “Uh.... sure?” his eyes flickered back to the pissed off looking vampire getting up out of the trash as he cautiously took the proffered hand and clambered to his feet still looking over the figure’s shoulder, “might uh-- wanna do something ‘bout that guy.”

 The poor, innocent civilian looked pretty banged up and scared, but that was okay. Remmy was here to rescue him now. Turning back as the villain rose from his heap on the ground, shaking garbage from his limbs and glaring them down. “Don’t worry-- I’ll take out the trash!” They spoke with a crooked smirk on their face, before running straight at the vampire, catching him off guard. Two punches to the face startled him enough to nearly topple him again, and Remmy spun to give him a good kick straight to chest. The vampire went flying from the alley, landing in the middle of the street and tumbling a few feet before skidding to a stop. “If I were you, I’d give up now,” they said, hands on their hips, as the vampire scraped himself up from the street, skin scored from the asphalt. Shaking his head, fangs bared, he leapt at them. Remmy shook their head, disappointed, before striking up another stance. They quickly moved out of the way, expecting him to turn and follow them but-- “Hey!” the beastly man kept going, charging at the victim in the alleyway. “Oh no!” they shouted, leaping for the vampire, trying to stop him before he got to the man. Fists dug into the vampire’s shirt, yanking, and the two went tumblring to the ground hard, rolling just past the wounded man. “Don’t even think about it,” they demanded, wrenching his arm up behind his back.

 Otto could only stare at the weird scene unfolding in front of him. The corny one-liners ripped straight out of some kind of comic strip that he’d normally roll his eyes at. Hells was this what his life had become? But the stranger seemed intent on fulfilling their caped crusader fantasy and hey? Who was he to stop them from punching his would-be assailant in the face. It was kind of entertaining to watch all things considered, at least, it was until he had a full grown vampire bearing down on him again. “Oh fuck!” he ducked out of the way just in time to see them both go toppling by and feeling the need to help grabbed the nearest thing he could find; a half broken baseball bat sticking out of a dumpster. It would have to do. Rushing up to the duo he slammed the wood with a sickening crack against the back of the vampire’s skull twice for good measure. If he could just get a decent angle it wouldn’t be hard to shove the splintered bat through this bastard’s heart. It was the least he deserved Otto just needed to find an opening.

Remmy ducked and rolled with the vampire, slamming him to the ground, just in time to be thrown onto their own back, slamming against the ground. It didn’t exactly hurt, but the surprise caught them off guard enough to not be able to right themselves in time to dodge the incoming fist to their face. The vampire’s hand curled around the eye patch on their face and yanked, pulling off. Remmy tried to push them off, only to hear wood crack against the back of his skull. The man flopped down, face first into the cement. Ow, that was gonna hurt in the morning. Wincing, Remmy shoved them off and scrambled to stand, stumbling only slightly. They looked down at him, then over to the man they’d been trying to save, watching him raise the splintered bat above the vampire’s heart. “No!” they said, running over and grabbing for the bat. “Don’t kill him! You can’t kill him!”

 The cry for mercy came right at the very moment the splintered wood of the bat plunged downward piercing the flesh of the dazed undead creature. Good riddance. Otto thought, grunting as he put his full bodyweight behind the act before the piercing scream echoed off the walls of the darkened alley. There was a bright flash of flame as though the figure had been doused in gasoline before vanishing into nothing but ash and leaving Otto to fall to his knees breathing hard. The clatter of wood on asphalt rang loud and clear. The tremors came a few moments later as the adrenaline began to subside. “He-- He was trying to kill me!” 

 “No, no, wait--” Remmy tried again, but they were too late. The wood splintered through the vampire’s back, and in an instant, he was dead. They stood still for a moment, unbelieving of their eyes, before dropping to their knees. “You killed him,” they stuttered, “why-- why would you do that? I had it handled!” They stood up again and began rooting around the alley, looking for a container-- something they could scoop the ashes up into. They needed to move them. Even if that vampire had been attacking someone, they needed to lay him to rest somewhere that wasn’t an alley filled with garbage. “You can’t-- you can’t justify killing with more killing! That’s not how it works! You have to-- someone has to break the cycle,” they said to the man, “someone has to be better.”

 “You had it handled? How do you call him almost ripping my throat out two times handled??” There was a minor note of panic in his voice as Otto waved at the pile of ash that was being blown away by an autumnal breeze drifting through the alleyway. He tossed the piece of wood aside, backing up one step and then two away from the strange caped crusader. “Break the cycle?” his expression mirrored his look of disbelief at the sheer faith this individual seemed to have in law, order and justice. He couldn’t help the slight huff under his breath “break the cycle of death? In this town? Good fuckin’ luck with that.” No way that was going to happen after all. But hey if they wanted to hop on that train bound for failure who was he to stop them? “Sorry Captain Washline, that sort of sunshine BS really isn’t gonna fly here.”

 “But he didn’t rip your throat out! I saved you!” Remmy insisted, feeling their chest heave again. This man was yelling at them when all they’d done was help. Sure, they made a little mistake, but everything had turned out alright. Except for the dead vampire. Remmy found a jar and started scooping the ash into it, looking over at the man with a furrowed brow. “Yeah, well, with that attitude, of course you wouldn’t think it was possible. But it’s gotta start with someone,” they muttered, standing up straight. “It’s Captain Moose to you, too,” they snapped, closing the lid on the jar. “And you’re welcome. For saving your ass.” They brushed their hands off and started heading out of the alley way. “You can believe whatever you want to, but I’m going to believe in the good of people. Even you, Mister Stakes-a-lot.” 

 “I don’t count near brushes with death as good things but thanks.” Otto answered shortly still wondering how of all the people in this town to come to his rescue it was someone dressed in a witch hat cat cape. The town certainly knew how to make a niche even its so-called heroes didn’t stick to the norm. His eyes narrowed a fraction, half tempted to ask if there were antlers to go with that name. “Aye, sure,” he tipped a salute from his temple, scoffed and backed into the alley. Hells he needed to stop going out after dark. 

 As the man said his last words-- more like spat-- Remmy stuck the jar in their pocket and sighed. He was backing away and taking off now, not even a thanks in tow. But then again, they hadn’t done it for the thanks, right? They’d done it to feel like they could still help someone, that they still could be worth something. They sighed again, gathering up their cape and brushing off their pants, then turned to head out of the alley as well. They patted the jar in their pocket. “So,” they asked, glancing left and right, “where should we spread your ashes?”

#chatzy #chatzy: otto #captain moose and the vicious vampire #otto

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Azula Week 2020: Day 7 - Repaired

Prompt: Success Pair: N/A Song: 69feetofsmoke - Ppl That I Luv

Summary: Zuko comes across Azula's paintings and sketchbook and finds startling self-portraits. 

The paintbrush slashes across the canvas leaving a thick and heavy trail of black. One harsh, angry brushstroke after another and another and another and…

Red comes next, vivid and bright. There is nearly as much red as there is black. It is thrown and spattered by flicks of the brush from a distance.

A touch of gold. Only the faintest trace of it.

The painting is cast to the side amid the rest of them. She curls herself up on the bed feeling drained. She is well aware that painting shouldn’t leave her feeling such. But it always does.

Azula has become a ghost of herself. Zuko sees it in her dulled eyes, in her loose stance and her slouched sitting posture. He sees it in her disheveled robes and her disarrayed hair. Sees it in her paled skin and hears it in the dejected way she speaks.

She hasn’t been the same since their Agni Kai. She isn’t as unkind, on some days she is actually rather pleasant to talk to, but she is deeply sad. Even when she smiles it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m fine, Zuzu.” She insists again. They sit in the shade of a dragon maple.

“You aren’t acting like yourself.”

“Everybody wanted me to change.”

He presses his lips together. He hates when she does that. Even if she doesn’t mean anything by it. Even if she only means to lay down facts as she sees them. He never knows how to reply to that because she isn’t entirely wrong, but she is missing some critical aspects. “That’s not what I mean.” He finally settles.

“Then what do you mean?” She asks, eyes fixed on her hands, clasped atop her knee.

“You just seem...really...unhappy.”

“I’m fine.” She repeats as though rehearsed. She does this a lot too, has him talking in circles.

“I just want you to be okay.”

“I am.”

He has to hold back a frustrated sigh. He has run out of things to say. But he doesn’t think that it is a good idea to leave them in silence. “The pond looks nice today. Katara said that she saw you decorating it?”

Azula shrugs. “I moved a few rocks around because I didn’t like where they were placed.” She pauses. “And I thought that a couple of fire lilies would look nice around it.”

He recalls that her bedroom window faces the pond and wonders if this is a small way of trying to lighten her mood.

“It does look nice.” He smiles. She doesn’t return the smile.

.oOo.

It feels weird talking to them. Talking to any of them. Every time she begins to feel secure, like she might be fully accepted, she makes a mess of it. And it is usually over the most mundane and trivial things.

Today’s argument has an extra bite considering that she’d taken something positive and turned it sour.

“You’re really going to choose flowers over people!?” Katara asks.

“They’re just flowers” Mai adds nonchalantly, “Sokka did even know that they were yours.”

Azula fixes him with a cross stare, his arm is slung over Suki’s shoulder. Suki who now wears Azula’s fire lilies in her hair. They aren’t just flowers. They are her flowers. Were her flowers and they made it, if only a little, easier to pull herself out of bed. They gave her something pretty to look at. They made her feel as though she could create something beautiful. She folds her arms across her chest. But even when she does create something beautiful it becomes vile in the end. “They were mine.” She says flatly.

“They were in the palace gardens.” Zuko says gently.

“Which are also mine.”

Zuko sighs, presses his hands together, and holds them to the bridge of his nose. “They’re my gardens too and…”

“And what!?” Azula asks. “And I think that you’re overreacting, a little.” He replies.

“A little?” Mai quirks a brow. “They’re a bundle of flowers, she can grow more.”

Azula clenches her fists beneath the table. “I shouldn’t have to. People should know better than to touch what belongs to me. They should know better than to disrespect…” She hisses.

“I didn’t even know that they were yours!” Sokka throws his hands up.

They are all looking at her. Glaring at her with such hatred and aggravation.

“Ya know we’re trying so hard to be nice to you.” Katara interjects. “We don’t have to and we really shouldn’t. You’re lucky that we’re giving you a second chance.”

But she feels neither lucky nor like she truly does have a chance. In fact, all she feels right now is anxious and angry. But she thinks that she might be angry at herself. She buches the fabrics of her robes beneath the table.

“And you aren’t even putting in any effort!” Toph declares.

“We thought you changed.” TyLee adds softly.

“Who gets mad over flowers?” Suki mutters. “I thought that they were pretty enough to wear.”

Azula bites the inside of her cheek, she hadn’t thought of that. Hadn’t considered that she had created something beautiful after all. Something so beautiful that someone wanted to wear it. Beautiful enough that it could have created joy for someone else. And suddenly she agrees with them, that she has made a problem out of nothing at all. Suddenly she feels horrible.

“They were my flowers…” Is all she manages.

She wants to cry, but, Agni, she can’t do it now. Not in front of so many enemies, especially ones that already gnash at her with razor teeth. She gnaws her lip that much harder. She can feel the tears building behind her eyes and they keep talking. She isn’t quite listening but they are still talking and they are still chastising.

She feels like a little girl. She feels pathetic and immature and an assortment of other dismal things. She can’t cry and she can’t look away, she is already being ridiculed enough. She feels as though they are closing in on her, she has to take her mind somewhere else… She has too…

The heat comes to her fingers before the tears have a chance to come to her eyes. She presses her fingers into her forearm and heats them much further. Everyone hates her again, they probably always will. She keeps her mind fixed on the burning sensation. It isn’t potent enough yet so she heats her fingers further still.

“Azula!” Zuko is loud enough to break through her concentration.

She stands up and pushes her chair in. She thanks Agni that her sleeves are long enough to cover the burn marks beneath. It isn’t as though she hasn’t done this before. She’d just never done it with other people in the room.

“Azula, we’re not done talking.”

But she is. She is done with a lot of things; hope and creating joys for herself among them. She pulls out her sketchbook and a fountain pen and begins slashing at the paper.

.oOo.

Azula’s room is vacant when he comes to check on her an hour later. The servants assure him that she has gone for her bath. He seats himself upon her bed. An hour later he sighs to himself, he is nodding off. He forgets how long she takes in the bath.

He stands to stretch his legs when he glances at her nightstand. At first he thinks that it is a journal, and in some sense it might be. It rests face up and open, an image done with thick ink. He knows that he ought not to, especially since their entire argument just hours ago had been about touching her belongings. But curiosity gets the better of him. He takes note of the picture she’d left open and flips to the first page. This one is just as dark, maybe more so.

The ink is applied so heavily that he can see indents on the page beneath it. The figure is hunched over, its face obscured. A plethora of weaponry juts from its back. Some arrows and a few throwing stars, but mostly there are knives. Red ink is used generously.

He turns the page to see another figure this one also has its face obscured, this time by hair. But he can sense the wild eyed gaze beneath. It wraps its arms around itself, nails clawing into its skin. Azula’s artistic talent is so much that it almost feels real, like he is looking at actual flesh that is being gripped to tightly. All around the figure are shadows, faintly human in shape, some are only hands.

The next page is much simpler; another dark-haired figure but the face is violently scribbled out. And the one next to it is similar but instead of ink, Azula blotted the face with paint. Deep, dark, paint.

The fifth image reveals a face. It’s eyes are dark and empty. There is such a deep sadness in them. He wasn’t aware that a single painting could convey such an emotion. He is so distracted by the face reveal that he almost doesn’t notice that the rest of the figure is in shambles. It’s right leg is seperated at the knee and the left is obviously broken. The left arm is twisted and bent. And its right arm is cracked and covering a large hole on its head, the cracks spiderweb onto the forehead. There is no blood, somehow this leaves him more unsettled. In the teeniest font at the bottom of the page he sees the word, ‘broken’.

He quickly flips the page. This one is not much better. Fierce and angry golden eyes look up at him. Golden eyes... The figure emits such an air of hatred that he almost closes the sketchbook as he should. But he can’t tear his eyes away. It is bleeding, its throat slashed from side to side and its wrists mutilated. Zuko finds more tiny writing. ‘Deserved.’

He comes to the page he’d first happened upon. The newest one. The worst one. It is the same figure, this time its eyes look dead and empty, thick black ink runs down its cheeks. It holds a dagger in its right hand, it’s blade adorned with red ink. The figure is naked and upon its stomach is the word, ‘monster’. His stomach sinks, in an instant he becomes aware that he has been referring to the figure as ‘it’. It is a human. It is undeniably a twisted, mutilated self portrait.

On her portrait self’s forehead, Azula had scrawled, ‘crazy’ and in smaller print, ‘lunatic’. It doesn’t matter where on the image he looks, it is full of words. Her left arm read, ‘disappointment’, ‘dishonor’,  ‘bitch’. and ‘hateful.’ Her right arm  is marred by, ‘ugly’, ‘damaged’, and ‘a mess.’

Her legs are decorated with various synonyms and the red ink drizzles down them pooling at her watercolor feet. Her chest is censored with two words, ‘heartless’ and ‘unlovable.’ The background is made of more words still but these are all overlapping one another so much that he can’t make out any of them. He doesn’t have to, to know that they are just as demeaning.

He looks back into those gold ink eyes. The sorrow within them is so complete that it is overwhelming. He hears footsteps and hustles to put the sketchbook back in its place. And pretends to be observing the dragon mural hanging at the other end of the room.

“What do you want, Zuzu?” She grumbles. Her hair is dripping, she smells like the bath she’d just taken. He might have mistook the grumble for an argumentative growl, but now it only seems dreary.

“Just to check on you.”

“For what?”

He shrugs. “I just. I know that it’s hard to try to fit in with a group of people that you hurt.”  He wants to bring up the sketchbook, but he isn’t sure how without rousing her temper.

She shrugs and sits herself back on the bed. Her eyes look nearly as vacant as they do in her portrait. “Are you okay.” He hears her insist that she’s fine in his head before she opens her mouth.

“Are you?” He asks with a pointed stare to her nightstand.

She goes very tense.

“I told you not to...we just fought over…” Her voice seems to catch. “You shouldn’t go through my things.”

“You left it on the nightstand…”

“You shouldn’t be in here at all.” Her demand lacks its usual sting.

He takes the sketchbook, “it’s not true, we don’t think those things about you.”

“You do think them.” She insists. “You just don’t say them. Not to my face. But I overhear Mai and Suki. I overhear the palace staff. Iroh…” She pauses.

His mind runs in circles trying to figure out which thing Iroh had said. Perhaps heartless...or crazy, he’d heard his uncle call her crazy before.

“I doesn’t matter anyways because even if you don’t, I…” she stops herself. Her eyes seem to go hollower still.

He rubs his hands over her face. “It wasn’t just about the flowers today, was it?” He asks.

“No.” She replies.

“What was it about?”

She waves her hand. “It doesn’t matter.”  Her head seems to droop ever so slightly. He’s going to lose her if he doesn’t do something.

“Will you come downstairs with me?”

“No.”

He takes her by the wrist and she flinches and pulls her hand out of his grasp. “Sorry,” he mutters, “I forgot that you don’t like to be touched.”  He furrows his brows. “What happened?”

.oOo.

She doesn’t resist as he takes her hand again to inspect it.

“No.” He shakes his head sadly. “No. Don’t don’t do this.” He gestures to the burn marks.

Usually when she makes him cry it is because she’d hurt him. She always imagined that he would be delighted to see her hurt. She isn’t sure why he isn’t thrilled. This is what he wanted, to see her fall and hit the bottom so that he could have the top.  

She doesn’t know why he is babbling apologies to her. He never did anything wrong. That is her job. She’s the cruel one. She’s the one who hurts people. She is hurting him now and all she had done was hurt herself.

He gives her a light shake. “Answer me?”

But she hasn’t much to say. He can pretend to care...he can actually care but it makes little difference when everyone else  hates her. When no one else does. In time, he’d be better off anyhow.

But he doesn’t let her go, Agni she wishes that he would. He only releases his hold to let her lie down but he doesn’t leave. Hours go by and he sits there quietly, occasionally nodding off. It makes her feel teary all over again, but she can’t distract herself with pain with him watching so closely.

Azula squeezes her eyes shut as the first few tears free themselves. She must have made the smallest noise because his hand now rubs small circles on her back. She tries to force herself to stop crying but his hand on her back only makes her weep harder.

And then harder still when she hears footsteps heading their way. She doesn’t know who it is, it doesn’t matter. One person seeing her like this is bad enough. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Zuko glances down at her. “I hope so, Ty.” He gives her a small nudge. “I want her to be okay.”

She swallows. She wants to be okay. But she isn’t, there isn’t one okay thing about her.

.oOo.

He can’t seem to get her to move, not for the first week. For the first week she stays in bed. During the middle of the second week is when she emerged. She was sluggish and untalkative, a silent presence at the breakfast table.

But he was thankful to see her at least up and about. He wasn’t sure exactly what had motivated her to finally leave her room. But, Agni, was he relieved. If he’d known she’d be joining them for breakfast, he would have had them cook her favorite, pancakes with mango slices mixed into the batter. An eccentric choice if he must say. He’d requested it for her the next morning.

Still she didn’t talk. She sat with them but her presence was like that of a specter or a doll. It is her sixth day of not speaking a word. He sits the pancake before her. This time she finishes a little more than half of it before staring blankly at it.

“Hey, let’s go for a walk?” He offers.

“To where?” She speaks up for the first time in ages. He never thought that he’d be so relieved to hear her voice.

“Just out back.” He smiles.

She looks around the table, “where is everyone?”

“Come on.” He helps her out of the chair and leads her outside.

.oOo.

She squints against the sunlight, she wants to go back to her room. Instead she lets Zuko lead her towards the palace gardens. They are all there; Mai, TyLee, the Avatar and his gang, and Iroh. The smell of tea, jasmine, she believes, dances on the breeze.

“What is this?” She mumbles.

The little crowd parts and she sees them. A dozen or so vividly orange fire lilies. She looks up at Zuko in both confusion and a sudden wave of distress. He must sense it on her because his hand is on her back again, “sit down and let Iroh pour you some tea.”

Azula feels shaky, she thinks that she ought to sit down. She lets Zuko lead her to the foldout table that Iroh has assembled. He pours her a cup and she takes it in her hands. She wishes that her hands weren’t trembling so obviously and that the tea cup in them didn’t make them tremble moreso.

“I’m sorry about the flowers.” Sokka says, “I didn’t realize that it bothered you that much.”

She shakes her head, “it wasn’t just about the flowers…” She pauses. She has already made herself plenty weak, they haven’t taken advantage of it yet. And so what if they do, they can’t make her feel too much worse than she already does. “They helped me wake up in the morning. To see them out there. And then I woke up and I didn’t see them…”

A little thing to latch onto. To keep her going and she couldn’t even have that. She rubs the petals of a new one between her fingers. But she does have that. Yet they aren’t the ones that she planted.

She swallows. They are the ones that were planted for her though. Maybe the thought that went into them has more weight. “Why?”

“Because you haven’t been okay for a long time and we want you to be okay.” Zuko says.

She hopes that she hasn’t told them about the sketchbook.  She stares into her empty tea cup. Iroh offers her a refill.

.oOo.

Things were different after that. Azula still didn’t talk very much in the beginning but she would tag along when they went out to eat or to see a play. She wouldn’t necessarily part take, but at least she was getting out of the palace.

He is surprised to see her on the beach, digging her toes into the sand. Every now and then she scoops a handful of it and watches it slip from the space in her fist to reach the ground it had come from.

He takes a seat next to her. “I can get you some ice cream, if you want.”

She stands up and brushes the sand off of the back of her legs. “It’ll melt by the time you get it back to me.” She lets him lead her to the stall that is selling all of the cool beverages. She decides that she wants a pineapple drink instead.

He watches her drink it down, it is hard for him to gauge how she feels. Over the next few days, they talk to her, mostly sharing stories that have no relevance to the war. Sokka tells the most horrendously unfunny jokes. She finally opens up, near the end of the week. She is more sociable and her eyes have more life in them, tired as they still are.

He catches her firebending once or twice and on another occasion he sees her teaching Aang some techniques. After that he suggests that they each have some one on one time with her. An idea she protests but goes along with.

.oOo.

Azula still feels awkward and out of place. Her stories don’t seem to have the right amount of lightheartedness, they all have somewhat of a dark edge or undertone to them. Yet they listen to her anyhow. Mai, with the faintest trace of an amused smile. The same one she always gives when Azula shares the flaming apple and fountain story.

TyLee and Katara weave hibiscus into her hair as she talks. The shell bracelet around her wrist tinkles in the breeze. Sometimes she catches one of them staring. She follows their gaze to her lightly scarred arms.

“What are you staring at?” She asks crossly, without thinking.

“Same thing I always stare at.” Toph shrugs. “Absolutely nothing.”

She manages a small snicker. It feels so normal. It all just feels so normal. She thinks that she needs normal.

.oOo.

Azula is painting different things now. He opens the door to her beach house bedroom to see several larger canvases. Most of them are recreations of the sunset. One of them is a painting of a pineapple drink.

She isn’t in her room but she has been recently. There is a scatter of seashells on her nightstand that hadn’t been there a few hours ago.

He peers out of the window and finds her playing kuai ball with Mai, Tylee, and Suki. On the other team are Aang, Toph, Sokka, and Katara. He makes his way down to the beach and waits for them to tag him in.

Their month on Ember Island is coming to a close. In just a day or so they will be making their way home. Azula, decently taken by cactus juice, has fallen asleep not quite on the couch. He hadn’t taken her for a lightweight. He especially hadn’t taken Toph for one. But the two of them are out for the night and the others aren’t far behind. Zuko doesn’t know how he has become the designated babysitter.  

Their final day on Ember Island is coming to a close. Zuko finds himself on the balcony, looking out at the sun as it casts its warm glow on the waves. Sparkles dance across the surface bathed in pinks and oranges.

“Zuzu.”

He turns around and smiles. ‘I’m glad your trip ended up going well. It did go well, right?”

She doesn’t say anything, simply pushes her sketchbook into his arms before padding away, presumably to help Mai and TyLee start their bonfire.

He opens the book to find several familiar pages of artwork. He cringes to himself as he turns to the first of the new pages. The inkwork is much lighter, less aggressive now, but the image is still melancholy. The ink rendition of Azula is laying on the ground with her hair swept out in front of her, five small burn marks are the only color on the page.

The next one over shows a familiar broken and beaten body. But this one has little plants sprouting from the cracks and insufficiently small bandaids patching them up. The next few pages to follow don’t pertain to Azula at all, not without context anyhow; there is another pineapple drink, a very lifelike shell, and an elaborate door knocker--the one they pounded furiously with at Chan’s house before running away. Of course she would draw that.

He flips to the final page. He sees another figure. Like all of the others, its resemblance to her is unmistakable. More so now that there is life in the golden ink eyes. This image exudes as much cheer as her old ones had exuded sorrow. This one has color too; bright orange watercolor paint makes a crown of fire lily around her head.  He realizes that there are a few figures in the background, little yellow blurs that glow on the page where he is used to seeing deep dark shading. He finds a single word at the bottom.

‘Reparied.’

#Azula Week #Azula Week 2020 #Azula #Avatar The Last Airbender #Zuko #TyLee #Mai #Katara #Toph #Sokka #Aang #Fanfiction

[saijspellhart]

Bleached White

This is a gift to @shadowlordscorpio, who won my 1k follower art/writing giveaway, and asked for more Chat Blanc related things. They gave me a prompt to work from, and this is what I came up with.

This oneshot is related to my Floofy-eared Chat Blanc AU, (Which also includes Velvet Soft and Take My Hand) and should be considered the first installment in the series of oneshots.

~000~

Lightning split the sky, the brief flicker of light spilling across an unconscious woman.

It was the rolling crackle of thunder off in the distance that roused Marinette into consciousness.

The musty stench of age and neglect stung her nose before her eyes could even begin adjusting to the dim light. But she knew right away that she wasn't someplace familiar.

Marinette recognized the plush texture of expensive blankets and a soft bed, but the space around her felt empty, her bleary eyes failing to pick out any shapes in the darkness. No furniture, just empty floor and walls.

Lightning spilled light into the room again cutting a terrifying silhouette against the windows. At first she thought it was Chat Noir hunched over, but there was something different. The edges of his figure looked pale... bleached like bone.

Then everything fell into darkness again but she could still make out his shape now that she knew he was there.

"Chat...?" Marinette tried to sit up and felt her head surge with dizzying pain. "Where am I?" She tried to recall memories, anything to help make sense of her current surroundings.

At the sound of her voice the Chat-like figure turned to look at her. But his eyes were all wrong. Blazing magenta cut through the darkness instead of the pleasant toxic green she was accustomed to.

Marinette saw him pull something away from his mouth and hiss, white fangs glinting dangerously, and suddenly the fetid stench of rotting cheese overpowered the general aroma of dust and neglect.

Rotting cheese. Camembert.

Pain like a pounding hammer rippled through the back of her head, followed by memories. Memories of Chat's disappearance, a worried Ladybug searching for him in the dead of night for weeks, sightings and rumors of a bleached white Chat seen all across Paris. Marinette cleaning out her cheese reserves when Chat failed to visit her for two months straight. Angrily taking the spoiled cheese to the garbage can behind her parent's bakery... the smell had been so overpowering.

Those magenta eyes suddenly brought her back. Back to that alley, back to the creature who ambushed her in the darkness. So scared she stumbled and lost her footing... everything after was blackness.

Marinette reached up and touched the spot on the back of her head and hissed when pain lanced from a tender lump there.

"Chat..." she began again, in her silence he seemed to have returned to scarfing the foul smelling thing in his hands. "Where have you been?"

Magenta eyes fixed on her again, their demonic glow studying her from across the room.

A warm buzzing crawled from the inside of Marinette's jacket to the back of her collar.

"Something isn't right Marinette," Tikki whispered from the back of her neck. "That is Chat. I know because I still feel Plagg. But... he's different. His aura is tainted."

The Chat figure finished licking the rotten smelling substance from his fingers and pitched a bag off to the side. The dim light of the window illuminated just enough for Marinette to recognize it. It was the bag the spoiled cheese had been in when she went to toss it.

"You ate all that spoiled cheese? But you hate cheese." She'd purchased it for his Kwami to eat and recharge whenever he came by to visit her. Chat Noir himself refused to even smell the stuff.

Chat moved from his spot by the window, slinking on all fours towards her, those demonic eyes never blinking.

A sudden wave of fear crawled up her spine making her limbs feel heavy like lead and her blood run cold.

He moved closer, reaching the edge of the bed and continuing to close in on her.

Her breath hitched when Chat crawled over the blankets until he was practically on top of her. His breathing was audible as if he were drawing sharp breaths through his nose, and it took him burying his nose in her hair to realize he was smelling her.

The temptation to slug him was almost unbearable.

This waaay overstepped their boundaries as mere friends, and it was even pushing it a little when he did it to Ladybug. Which she was not right now.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Marinette~," he suddenly purred. But this wasn't the cheerful greeting she was accustomed to; his tone sounded sick and low, almost sinister. "My little friend from the bakery. You stink of... bread."

Well he wasn't wrong. She still lived with her parents even though she was twenty. To make ends meet she worked mornings in the bakery—which would definitely contribute to her smelling like baked goods. Her afternoons were spent running her online custom clothing store.

He pulled away from her and, despite the implication that she smelled bad, licked his lips like he was starving. There was a change in his expression, a sense of lucidity in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

"What happened to you?" She pressed again more firmly.

"Why?" He sneered, finally moving away from her to settle back on his heels, crouched on the edge of the bed. "Are you afraid of me? Everyone else is." He bared his teeth for emphasis and she took a sharp inhale when light reflected off rows of sharp fangs.

"Why are you all white?"

Chat suddenly let out a mocking laugh, "What's the matter? Do you only take your Chats the way you take your coffee?"

"Quit evading all my questions!"

Chat sniffed and stood up from the bed, "If I tell you, you might sic Ladybug after me. I know you're friends with that Ladyblogger after all."

"Hawkmoth akumatized you." She'd had the inkling suspicion the moment she woke up and found him in bleached white leather, but had hoped it wasn't true. His aversion to Ladybug only confirmed her suspicion.

"Au contraire, I akumatized myself."

"And what difference does that make?"

He glared down his nose, a superior expression etched along his features. "It means I am not that pathetic man's pawn."

As if Hawkmoth had been listening in (and perhaps he was) the glowing outline of a moth burned to life in front of Chat's eyes, and he suddenly screamed.

Marinette watched in horror as Chat hit the ground, and began writhing along the floor. She felt her heart clench at his cries of agony, and even when she clapped her hands over her ears they seemed to penetrate right through her.

Chat's claws gouged deep lacerations into the wooden floors, ripping up bits of splinters, while his boots kicked up dirt and dust. He writhed and struggled on the ground as if someone were torturing him, back arching, tail lashing, teeth gnashing, his pupils blown wide, but focused on absolutely nothing. The moth pattern in front of his face burned even brighter with a cruel intensity.

"No!" Chat snarled into the floor, dragging his canines over the boards. "Nononono—!" His frantic denial dissolved into an unintelligible scream of pain, and he rolled along the ground akin to a contortionist, limbs wildly swinging and slashing anything within reach of his claws. (Which given the barren state of the room, fortunately happened to be more floor.)

Marinette clamped her eyes shut, trying to shut out the horrible image before her. She couldn't watch this. She couldn't watch her partner suffer like this, akumatized or not.

"Tikki what do I do? He needs help!"

The Kwami pressed hot paws to the back of her neck, but it was far from comforting. "I don't know Marinette. Hawkmoth appears to be hurting him, trying to make him submit. But Chat's fighting it."

"And we cant stop this?" Marinette implored.

"He either has to give in, or fight passed it until Hawkmoth gives up."

The torture scene before them felt as though it played out for hours, despite only going on for a few minutes. The sound of Chat's agony echoed through the building and Marinette's head, until she was sure she'd be hearing his screams in her sleep. His claws were digging against the wood so savagely it was a wonder he didn't rip a whole in the floor and fall through.

"Look Marinette!" Tikki cried, slapping her paw against her chosen's neck to get her attention.

Marinette opened her eyes to find the glowing butterfly pattern flickering in strength. It blinked like an old neon light before flickering out completely, leaving Chat to pant against the floor in exhaustion.

"Perhaps it's just as taxing on Hawkmoth to inflict pain on his victims like that," Tikki pondered next to her ear.

With the absence of the glowing butterfly, the pain appeared to recede, and Chat's body went limp. His breaths were labored, rattling in and out of his lungs with effort, and saliva bubbled from the corner of his mouth.

He looked like a wounded animal.

Marinette hesitated for only a moment before surging forward and dropping to his side.

"Chat! Are you alright?" She placed a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't respond. "Oh god, please be alright." Her fingers traced over his ribs, before touching his side.

A shudder wracked his body.

Chat began wheezing like something was lodged in his throat. At first Marinette thought he was choking, until realizing it was akin to a cat coughing up a hairball. Seconds later he coughed an akuma onto the floor amid a puddle of saliva and iridescent purple butterfly scales.

The akuma attempted to take flight, clearly disoriented and flailing in the puddle of drool.

"Tikki, I'm not transformed!"

The Kwami leapt into action, diving at the butterfly before it could escape.

"You owe me for this, Marinette," she grumbled, lifting the slimy akuma to her mouth before adding, "Big time."

Marinette watched as her Kwami ate the akuma. Her mouth curled into a look of horror and disgust.

"I'm purifying it," Tikki explained in a matter-of-fact tone. "I can do that."

A moment later she burped out a completely white butterfly. They both watched it flutter towards the nearest exit.

Kwami and Chosen returned their attention to Chat to find he had passed out on the floor. His suit still shown as white as the moon.

"I don't understand," started Marinette, "Shouldn't that have fixed him?"

Tikki moved to hover next to his face, and placed a paw against his cheek. "Not if he's eaten more than just the one. Don't you think it's odd that we've hardly seen any akumas at all these past two months?"

"You son-of-a-bi—atch of cookies," Marinette swore at the unconscious man.

"Look on the bright side, Marinette. At least we've finally found him. And look how cute he is!" Tikki made a circle and grabbed the tip of Chat's ear between her paws. "He's got big fluffy ears." She giggled and let go before zooming down near his backside and lifting something long and furry off the floor. "And a big soft kitty tail!"

Marinette scooted closer, and pulled Chat's head into her lap for closer inspection.

Sure enough, right where his human ears should have been were two large and floofy cat-like ears. Complete with a couple of piercings on the left one.

"Just because he's cute now doesn't mean I'm going to forgive the hell he's put me through." She pushed the long blonde bangs away from his forehead, noting how his hair was damp with sweat. "I've been worried sick about you," she scolded his unconscious face.

"But look at that face." Tikki returned to tap him gently on the nose. "He looks so helpless."

Marinette cocked her head to the side, Maybe a little. In his unconscious state his features had smoothed out and she could see the gentleness of Chat Noir again. "So how do we make him cough up the rest of the akumas?"

Tikki moved down his chest, illuminating parts of him with the pink glow from her own body, She stopped to touch one of his over-sized lapels and giggled. "I suppose we'll just have to try trial-and-error."

I'll be posting more oneshots and stories for this AU. Let me know if you enjoyed this and would like to see more.

#marichat #mariblanc #chat blanc #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #chat noir #miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #floofy eared chat blanc #Saijspellhart writes #adrien agreste #oneshot

[xaphrin]

Obiyuki Bookstore AU? :3

[Look,it’s THATWEEK,and I didn’t do anything because… I suck? But here. Have 4k+ ofnonsensical backstory for an AU I nearly forgot about (and youprobably did too)]

“Letyourself in, why don’t you.” Obi looked up from the ledger infront of him and let out a small, annoyed breath. He set his jaw andwatched as his employers tried to wedge themselves into the tightshop that served as his home and base. Master and Mitsuhide wereenough to fill the space between his shelves and his desk, but Kikiseemed to add almost toomuchinthe ways of bodies, and they all half-spilled into the street.

Hisone-eyed tabby yowled at them and made a swipe at Kiki’s heel.

“It’surgent.”

“Ofcourse it is.” Obi closed his ledger and wedged a hand under hischin with another aggravated noise. Zen had always been his best allyand hisclosestfriend, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t get on Obi’s nervesfrom time-to-time. Especially when Zen seemed so willing to letShirayuki slip through his fingers. “Like every other mission yousend me on, Master?”Hisstare turned flat and he cocked his head to the side, expressionthin, watching them try to make room for everyone. “Please, makeyourselves at home. Would you like me to prepare tea for you? Makeyou something to-”

“It’sserious.”Zen moved closer to the small fire in the back of the store, making asmall amount of space for Mitsuhide and Kiki to fill. He stepped overa pile of books and settled onto the wobbly stool by the logs.“There’s been a… something happened and it’s… I need…”His tongue seemed to tighten, and Zen looked away, rubbing the backof his neck.

Obilifted an eyebrow. “Use your words, Master.”

Zen’shead fell into his hands, a broken sound escaping his throat. “It’sall my fault.”

Obicould feel his stomach drop and his heart sputter in his chest. Whatin the world was all of this about? His hand clenched and the scarslashed across his chest itched, as if his whole body was preparingto leap into action without his permission.

“Shirayukihas been kidnapped.” Kiki’s voice was clear and concise, gettingright to the point. She leveled her stare at Obi, somehow managing tosay every detail in that look alone, and gave Mitsuhide an indelicateshove to get him out of the way. “By guards from Tanbarun.”

Obifelt his stomach drop and his ears start to ring, drowning out thesound of the city outside his door and the last few tones of Kiki’svoice. All he could seem to focus on ws his own breathing as memoriesof Shirayuki filled the back of his mind. He blinked, turning thewords over in his mind with enough weight that his own body seemed togrow so heavy that he wasn’t sure if he remembered how to move.Kidnapped?Shehad just been in here last week, poring over the book he bought herin the south, and stuffing him full of her orange and spice biscuits.a few weeks before that, she had been pressed against his side by thefire as she spun haphazard retellings of Tanbarun folktales. It feltlike the world had been ripped from underneath him and he was lefthanging in the middle of nothing, simply waiting to fall.

“Itwas my fault.” Zen repeated, his words still muffled by his hands.“I shouldn’t have left her alone while Prince Raj was visiting,and I knew he was still upset, and…”

Obicould feel himself start to move without telling his body to do so.He wanted desperatelytobe angry with Zen. How could he be so careless when Zen knew the fullbreadth of Shirayuki’s history with Raj? And when Raj was stillslighted by Shirayuki leaving him her hair as she escaped? Zen knewallof this, and yet he was so… so stupid.But, in spite of all of that, Obi was still struggling to be angrywith his employer, especially when their top priority was savingShirayuki right now. He would find the time to be angry later, now heneeded a plan.  

Obiopened the draw in his desk and removed his knives, hiding them inthe folds of his clothes. Mentally he began ticking off a list ofthings that needed to be completed, while categorizing all the routesthe Tanbarun guards could have taken her. There would have beenbetween ten and twenty of the best guards who were most loyal to theprince, and that would have left them to stick to only the mostheavily traveled routes and the widest roads - especially for thecomfort of the prince. “Where is she?”

“Wetracked them as far as the moors that border the kingdoms.” Kikiwas the only one in this situation who hadn’t seemed to lose hercool just yet, and Obi was grateful for that small miracle. The moorshad two major roads, and one of them snaked through a swamp - thesmell would have been too offensive for Raj’s delicate nose, sothat left only one road they would be on. That was somewhere tostart.

“Shewas taken a few days ago.”

“Afew days?”Obi turned and glared at Zen, the first time he had let his emotionsget the better of him. His anger was finally starting to boil hot,bubbling under his skin until it threatened to break free in the formof sharp words and heavy fists. How could Zen be so careless?“Were you waiting for a formal invite to rescue Mistress, YourHighness?”

Zenat least had the decency to look offended. “We were trying to avoida diplomatic upheaval, and I don’t need your critique on how Ihandled the situation. It was the only choice I had to avoid anall-out war between the kingdoms over a- a girl-”

Obibit his tongue to keep from pointing out that barely a year ago Zenwould have gladly started a war if it meant saving Shirayuki. Butclearly things had changed between him and the kingdom.

“-Iam doing the best I can, Obi…” Zen’s back hunched at he staredat the floor. “But, I need you to finish this-”

“Youmean clean up after your mistakes?” Obi’s words had bitetothem, and he reached into a cabinet behind his desk to fish out hisemergency pack. “If you had thought through this with a little moreclarity, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“You’reright!” Zen stood up and threw his hands in the air. His voiceseemed to cut through the dust of the shop with the slash of a knife.“Is that what you want to hear? That I’m wrong and you’re right- about everything.You’re right, I should have handled this differently, and I didn’t.And now Shirayuki is practically in another kingdom, and I’m leftstruggling to fix the errors from my mistakes.” He gnashed histeeth and lifted those too-blue eyes to Obi’s and glared. “I’mnot here as a prince, I’m here as a friendaskingmy friendforhelp.”

Godsbe damned, Zen knew exactly how to say things that made him feelguilty. Obi glared back at him, muttering something rude under hisbreath.   

“Discretion.”Kiki let go of a soft breath and placed herself between them, tryingto steer them both clear of a fight.  She held out her arms andmet both of their stares with one of solidarity. “We need this tobe met with your usualdiscretion,Obi. No one knows who you are or why you’re there -  a bookpeddler traveling between cities.”

Obiscoffed.

“Itwould be best if no one saw you at all.”

Obigritted his teeth and looked around Kiki to meet Zen’s downtroddenexpression, the fight seemingly bled out of him until just thehollowness of his worry and failure filled him. Obi felt a twinge inhis heart, a small thread of guilt pulling at him. Zen had been inhis life long enough that Obi considered him like family - almost asif they were brothers. And just like any other siblings, Obi foundhim questioning his brother’s decisions more often than not. Zenwould make a fine ruler someday, but right now he needed to get hishead out of his ass.

Obiran a hand down his face and looked away. “I swear, you’rehazardous to her health sometimes.” He shook his head and movedthrough the rest of his small shop, picking up things he had storedand secreted away - in case of an emergency, like this. “When Ireturn with her, you’re going to have to prove to me that you won’tlet her get into any more damage with you hanging around.”

“I…”Zen tried to think of something pointed to say, but it seemed to dieon his lips. “Just get her back safe.”

“Mm.”Obi hefted a small bag over his shoulders and took his cloak downfrom a hook by the door. “I’ll need a place to rest on our wayback. The fall retreat by the river?”

“Takeit. Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

Obipaused at the door and he turned around, meeting Zen’s face with aleveled expression. “I will get her back… but do not forget theconversation we had several months ago, Master.Don’tforget what I said.”

Zensighed and his shoulders dropped, the fight stripped from him. “Iknow.”

-

Shirayukifound herself teetering on the edge of exhaustion. Her mind was anumb fog of thoughts that held little substance, but seemed to bedrenched in sensation. Every bone in her body ached from a night ofhard riding, but she kept herself quiet, leaning back into the warmthof Obi behind her. He tensed just a little before easing into hertouch, but instead of trying to soften the ride, he instead drove thesteed harder, pushing it to its very limits as if he absolutelyneededtoput an entire country between him and the camp they escaped from.  

Shirayukibit back an annoyed sound, each muscle in her body aching with everyjostle from the steed under them. She had lost count of the hours ofnight they had sped through, the stars and moon overhead shifting sosubtly before disappearing into heavy clouds above them. It had beennothing but pitch-black for hours now, stretching around them in aninky darkness she couldn’t measure. Somewhere far-off a songbirdbegan it’s morning trill, the notes disappearing into the mist. Shecould see a thin line of gray inching over the eastern horizon, as ifdawn was clawing its way closer and closer to them. But, even with ashard as they had ridden and how careful they had been, Shirayukiwasn’t entirely sure if they had put enough space between them andthe camp of soldiers.

Thesteed started to slow down, pushed far beyond its limits for toolong, and if the situation wasn’t so dire Shirayuki would have feltmore than just marginally guilty for the beast. The three of themwould rest soon, she knew it. Obi turned off the road and onto awooded path, the branches and underbrush practically swallowing themwhole. A thin drizzle of rain had started to fall, splatteringagainst the leaves to hide their sound and spilling onto the earth,obscuring their tracks. A drop of water splashed onto her cheek andslid down her face. Shirayuki shivered, but Obi just pulled the oiledhood tighter around her head, shifting in the saddle to give her morespace to move.

“Itisn’t much farther, Miss. I promise that we’ll rest up ahead.”He pressed his mouth close to her ear, his voice a ragged whisperthat she had heard only a few times before. She stiffened in thesaddle, her back curling against his chest as he moved closer. “We’llneed a day or two to lay low, rest, and let the rain wash away ourescape. Then we’ll head back to Wistal and back into the protectionof your pharmacy. You have my word.”

Thatwas a lot coming from him. Shirayuki eased only a little, and feltthe bunch of his thighs press tightly under her own as he moved thehorse back into a swift trot. A shiver worked its way down her spine,settling in the pit of her stomach where it blossomed into a myriadof emotions she couldn’t quitename.“Will they find us? Out here, I mean?”

“Unlikely.We’re too far from a town, too far from the main road, and in adirection they wouldn’t think to look. It was safer to take us aways west before heading back to the palace - it throws them off ourtrail.” He turned down another path, this one narrower and moreovergrown, and let the steed slow down just enough to catch hisbreath. By now the skies had turned a dark gray, and a low rumblesounded in the distance, warning them both of an oncoming storm thatwas undoubtedly worse than anything they faced up until now. “We’llstill have to be careful though. No fires tonight. No candles.Nothing that could alert even civilians to our presence.”

Alone.In the middle of nowhere. With… with Obi.A week ago that had been a silly, girlish fantasy, but under thecircumstances it seemed… Shirayuki shook her head. Nowwasnot the time to be thinking about this at all.

“Where…where are we going?”

“Yourdashing prince lent us his fall retreat for the time being.” Obiseemed to grin behind her, adjusting himself in the saddle again.“And I fully intend on taking advantage of the time to pick my waythrough the royal stores of whisky.”

Shirayukilooked over her shoulder, watching his eyes sparkle with mischief andsomething that seemed playful. Her heart skipped in her chest,missing beats and fluttering too tightly against her ribs, and shewhipped back around to stare at the path in front of them. It waseasier to examine the shadows that seemed to fill all the spacesbetween the trees, than to look at that teasing joy in his eyes.Shirayuki could handle thoughtful silence, she stillhadn’tlearned how to combat her own emotions when he looked like… that.Silencestretched before them again, and Shirayuki listened to the call ofthe birds and the rain that spilled over the leaves. Obi finallybroke through the path to a modest, but stately two-story housewedged in between two massive trees close to the river.

“Yourcastle for the day, Mistress.”

Thehouse seemed so cold and empty, no bustle of servants running around.Only a few scraggly chickens poked at the ground before retreatinginto their coop as another rumble of thunder passed overhead. Butthere was no life, no other people, not even a dog or a cat. It wasjust them, and a reminder to her that they were - yet again -completelyalone. 

Obislowed the steed down as they approached the stables, and he swunghimself down off the saddle before helping Shirayuki down back onsolid earth. Her muscles cried in pain and her bones creaked andpopped with every movement, but she was happy to finally be on groundagain. She sent up a small prayer for little joys, and moved her bodyslowly, taking in the overgrown state of the lawn. Obi quietly pennedthe steed, thanking it and petting it as it to apologize for suchharsh treatment for so long. The horse just snorted and trotted away,drinking water and chewing on grass. Obi watched it for a momentlonger before taking Shirayuki’s hand and leading her up a smallpath to the house.

“Doyou have any injuries that need tending to?” Obi opened theservants entrance and led her inside to a quiet kitchen. “Anythingthat occurred while you were at the Tanbarun camp?”

“No…”Her wrists had been a little chafed by the rope rope, but therewasn’t much else. Well, perhaps her body needed to regain it’snormal range of movement, but that was nothing that a good walkthrough the house wouldn’t cure. A good walk and an hour ofquestions that suddenly needed answered. She lifted her stare toObi’s and watched as he shed a small pack and his own cloak ontothe table. It was then that the heavens opened up, pounding heavy,earth drenching rain against the thick glass of the kitchen.

“Ihave questions.” Her voice sounded small, drowned out my the noiseof the storm. “Manyquestions.”

Hisstare flicked to her own, mouth tilting to the side in a smile sherecognized far too much. It was a movement that said he would onlytell as much as he wanted, and when he was done talking, she was doneasking questions. “I’m sure you do, Mistress.” He paused,digging through the pack to pull out some provisions that had managedto stay dry. “If you want, you may ask them.”

“Butyou don’t promise to answer them?” Shirayuki curled her toes inher boots, waiting.

“Youknow me so well, Miss. What makes you think this changes anythingabout me? About us.”

Us.Theway he said it was a reminder of their friendship. A reminder thatthey had known each other for a long while, and had grown close. Thiswas part of him that she hadn’t learned yet, but it was still partof him.It didn’t change the man he was, or the man she had grown to know.It was another story she had yet to find the ending too, and itdidn’t mean that she didn’t want to know the ending. She shiftedagain, watching as he looked around the kitchen.

“So,you… you don’t sell books?” That seemed an astute assumption,no matter how silly.

“Ohno, I do.”He moved around her, taking in the state of the kitchen. A smallshelf scattered with preserves had caught his attention, and hepicked through the jars looking for something to eat. His eyes methers for a brief moment, a curious darkness gathering in them. “Iassure you that is myshop.Owned and managed by my own two hands.”

“Then…”

“It’sjust not my primarysourceof income.” He pulled down a jar of apple butter, and another oneof preserved vegetables. He finally turned around and looked at herfully, making sure the entire length of the kitchen was between them.It was as if the space gave him a bit of armor he would not have insuch an intimate setting. “If that’s what you’re questioning.So, yes.The shop is mine. I own it. I manage it. I sell books. Sometimes fromfar away places, sometimes from places a little bit closer to home.”

Sheswallowed, uncertain of how she should ask the next question.Shirayuki’s heart pounded in her ears and she watched him movecloser, each step quiet on the floor. Her throat was dry, but shetried to force the words out anyway. “Are you… a…”

Awhatexactly?An agent for the crown? How in the world could she think to ask himthat?

Thankfully,Obi answered for her, his eyes leveled. “My skills do not includejustbooks,Mistress.”

“Oh.”Shirayuki wished she could think of something more articulate thanthat, but words seemed to escape her. She had a hundred morequestions like whyandhowandforwhom.Shefound herself suddenly wondering about stories and tales that heundoubtedly had and what those were like. She found herself wantingto know more about this side of him - the side that she didn’t havea chance to learn about yet.

Andinstead of saying anything at all, she stared blankly into his face,waiting.

Obi’sexpression softened and he moved even closer to her, invading herspace as easily as he had a hundred times before. “You’re tiredfrom tonight’s ride.”

Shewas.

“It’sbeen a long day and I’m sure you have things you’d like to thinkabout… probably without me around.” He looked away, a hint ofshame hiding in his eyes. “Let’s find a bed for you to rest, andwe can talk more later.”

Heheld out his hand and Shirayuki felt her body react of its ownaccord. She slipped her fingers between his, watching his palmpractically wrap around her entire hand. She felt so small next tohim, like his entire being would swallow her whole. Slowly, shelifted her eyes and met his stare. His eyes were still that strikingshade of gold, watching each of her movements with completefascination behind long lashes. Her heart skipped beats again, andher memories seemed to be flooded with all the little, privatedaydreams she kept locked within her thoughts.

Inspite of everything that she was learning today. This was still herObi.The charming shopkeep that drank brandy and told low-brow jokes andbrought her books from far-away places. The same person who pressedclosed to her in the tight shop and taught her how to read a languageshe had never heard of before. The same person who inquired after herhealth, and told her all the ways she needed to take good care ofherself, because how could he lose a friend like her. Thiswasstillherfriend, a friend she had feelings for that had grown roots deep intoher chest and made her feel things she didn’t always understand.

“I…”

Helifted an eyebrow and watched her, his lips curling up at one side.“Yes?”

“Willyou… stay with me?”

Heblinked, as if shocked by that question, and his hand loosened itsgrip a fraction. “With you?”

“Ah…I… while I sleep, I mean.” Heat curled up her neck, staining hercheeks and bleeding into her hair. Just once in her life, she’dlike to say something to him and not have to awkwardly clarify itseconds later. “I… I don’t want to be alone. It’s dark andstorming and… ”

Tanbarun.

Theword hung unspoken between them. Somewhere in the back of her mind,Shirayuki knew she should have been quivering for her ownself-preservation, that there was a lot from her own experience sheneeded to unravel and process in its own way. That was the reason Obiwas here in the first place - because she had been kidnapped. ButObi… Obi seemed infinitely more important, and this new revelationwas just part of it. With Obi standing in front of her looking everybit the bookseller she cared for and the rogue she wanted to knowmore about, thiswaswhat seemed to be the thing she wanted to focus on. This was whatdemanded her attention.

Sheheld onto the folds of her skirt as another rumble of thunder inchedits way closer to the house. “Please? Just… just for a while.”

Obi’sexpression softened. “Of course, Mistress. Whatever you need.”His smile tilted to the side again, almost teasing as he took anotherstep into her space. The scent of parchment and brandy mingled withfinely oiled metal and fresh rain, creating something new entirely.Shirayuki could feel parts of her awaken again - the parts she hadnearly forgotten about in the long ride from the camp.

Hecurled his fingers under her chin, tilting her face towards his. “Andif you’d like, I will read to you to keep you company.”

#obiyuki #bookstore au #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #I am most sorry

[promisedangel]

Fresh Meat- Chapter 37

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Chapter 37- Resolve

Chara tossed and turned in their bed, sweat heavy on their brow and their eyes shut tight as a new dream haunted their sleep. The colors coalesced into a wavering darkness. Dark colors of black, navy, and violet danced around Chara. Chara stood but saw there was no ground to stand on. Confused, they turned their gaze around them. Strange noises emanated from the darkness surrounding them. Familiar, but unable to place them. They then gasped, a figure appeared in the near-distance. Gaster. His eyes were closed, the scar Chara inflicted was missing, and his hands were in a steeple in front of him. He was silent, unmoving. Chara frowned as they drew their knife towards Gaster, ready to fight. Gaster did not react, but the noises in the darkness grew louder. Hands and claws congealed from the darkness around them, reaching for them. Groans, gnashes, and growls accompanied them. Chara gasped as a large one reached for them, but they dodged it just in time. They heard the familiar roar of the monster in Home, despite a strange distortion in the voice, “WHERE ARE YOU?! GET BACK HERE, HUMAN!” Chara pointed their knife towards the arm as it swung wildly in search of Chara. They stepped back cautiously until they heard liquid slosh at their feet. They had no time to react when the puddle transformed into a moldbygg. Chara was consumed by the monster, but only for a few moments. A large, muscular hand reached into the moldbygg and pulled Chara out. They saw an aaron had grabbed them but left one hand free. They stabbed the arm that held them, a crack sounded in the distance as the aaron dissipated into dust. Chara whipped their gaze around them until they heard another familiar voice sound, Muffet’s, “Just stand still, dearie!” Chara turned in time to slash Muffet’s enlarged hand. The crack sounded once more as Muffet disappeared into dust. Chara then felt their leg wrapped before they fell over with a yelp. They landed on an invisible floor. They turned to see a red tentacle hold their left leg firmly. It dragged them closer to the unmoving form of Gaster. Chara then noticed a crack formed above Gaster’s right eye. They turned their attention to the tentacle and stabbed it. The crack sounded once more. The tentacle dispersed into dust. Chara stood; mere feet from Gaster, his new scar completed. They heard the growls of various monsters surround them. Shadows of hands lunged around the two of them. They were trapped, with him.

A husk, low chuckle emanated. The clearest voice in the darkness. Chara shivered before their gaze turned towards Gaster, the source of the chuckle. His eyes remained closed as he spoke, “Do you honestly believe you could defeat me?” Chara roared, “I will never be your tool!” Gaster smirked, “Very well, I will indulge your fantasy.”

The shadows around them became more restless, further clawing towards Chara. Chara then saw Gaster’s eyes open, his eyes both equal in their glow. They felt unable to move, they began to panic as the arms clawed their way closer to Chara. Their eyes focused on Gaster as he spoke, “This was a game you could never win.” The hands reached Chara, many of them took hold of Chara and began to drag them into the darkness. Chara screamed out, but still unable to move. Gaster kept his gaze on them, giving a satisfied smirk all the while. It was then that Chara felt claws and teeth begin to tear at them. They screamed out once more, not able to see or escape from the pain. The darkness took hold, Gaster faded from sight. The pain encompassed their being before they finally felt their neck snap. Numbness. Darkness. Nothingness.

—————————————————————————————–

Chara shot awake with a panicked gasp; they continued to shake even as they examined themselves. Nothing but the scars they already knew of. Their breaths slowly evened out before they calmed themselves and took in their surroundings. They sat in their bed, in the Dreemurr’s home. They noticed Asriel was not in the room with them. His bed disheveled, the blankets tossed to the side in a rush. Chara’s eyes widened before they rushed out of bed to the door, their bedsheets nearly mirroring Asriel’s. They pressed an ear to the door and heard more sounds of fighting. They kept a hand on their new knife before they opened the door. The front door was still off its hinges. None of the Dreemurrs were in sight. They heard clashes from beyond the door, clangs of steel and claws. They dashed to the front door and peeked out. They saw their family fight two monsters, and many piles of dust. Three dust piles had armor peeking from them. Asgore held his trident before he stabbed an oncoming monster with it, running it through. The monster gasped before they limped and dispersed into dust before Asgore. One of the monsters panicked, “Fuck this!” They began to run away, “They were right to trap you here!” Toriel threw a large fireball at the monster, which hit it square in the back. It screamed and fell to the ground before it soon turned to dust. Asgore gave a heavy sigh as he relaxed, “Is everyone alright?” Toriel nodded, “I am fine. Asriel?” Asriel approached Toriel from a corner near the door, “I’m okay.” Asgore turned, “Then let us head- Chara!” Their eyes focused on Chara, Toriel frowned as the three began to approach, “Chara. I asked you to stay in your room!” Chara sheathed their knife, “I saw the disheveled bed. I thought…” They lightly hugged one of their arms with a frown. Toriel sighed before she kneeled and tussled Chara’s hair, “Please, my child, it will only be for a couple days. Today we will start packing for our trip to Home. We will be safe there.” Asriel frowned, “Um… mom? Dad?” Asgore raised a brow, “Yes, Asriel?” Asriel mused, “What did that last monster mean?” Asgore narrowed his eyes and stroked his beard, “I am not sure… but it does sound concerning.” He began to walk inside the house, “I will check how the guards in the castle are holding up. Perhaps they will have some answers.” Toriel stood with a disheartened gaze, “Do not forget to mention… their loss…” Asgore and Toriel focused their gaze on the three piles of dust with armor on them. Asgore nodded, “I would not dare.”

Asgore made his way down the stairs and walked to the castle, a heavy frown upon his face. The walk gave him time to muse over the recent events and regret all of the death that has transpired. Guilt seeped into his expression as he thought about those monsters he had personally slain, and those who had stood by his side turned to dust. His thoughts then turned to those he was not personally responsible for, but by his decision to protect Chara, they were dust. Was all of this worth it, just to protect a single child? He feared the answer was against him, but he knew he would have to live with his decision. No matter what happened, he knew he would regret it. “King Asgore!” A voice called him away from his thoughts. His gaze turned to his remaining Royal Guard, now a mere seven monsters, including the latest recruit who had approached him. Asgore composed himself; his expression waned to a calm one before he spoke, “What is the status, Undyne?” The new recruit answered nervously, “They’ve… stopped attacking, and it seemed they’re stopping anyone from entering the castle.” Asgore raised a brow, “Strange… Are they saying anything?” Undyne’s fins drooped, “Yeah, a lot of things.” She hesitated,  “Sir… Why are we doing this?” Asgore hesitated in his response, “To ensure Ch-…the… human is not… wasted.” Undyne growled, “Then why aren’t you giving the human to Dr. Gaster?!”

Asgore stepped back in slight shock. He noticed his guards were fatigued and standing by Undyne’s words. He didn’t know how to respond, he fumbled over his words, “I… I just- well…” Undyne’s expression grew to disbelief and a slight sorrow, “Please… tell us the truth.” Asgore turned his expression downwards as he frowned, silent for a few moments before he responded, “I only wanted to protect my family.” The guards’ eyes all lit up with shock, a tear fell from Undyne’s left eye. She gritted her teeth before she spoke, sorrow and anger slowly seeped into her voice, “So, it’s true, then? You won’t give up the human because you’ve… adopted it?!” Anguish seeped into the guards’ expression, wounded by betrayal. Asgore spoke, disappointment in his tone, “You don’t understand…” Undyne roared, “Then explain it! Explain why you’d keep some food alive and hoarded while the entire kingdom you’re in charge of starves!” One of the guards brandished their claws, “There’s no use talking to monsters like him.” The rest followed, each brandished their weapon in Asgore’s direction, only Undyne had not. Asgore stepped back a few more paces, “Please. I do not wish to fight you.” More tears fell from Undyne’s eyes as she summoned a spear of magic. She frowned at Asgore and spoke in command through her tears, “By the power vested to Dr. Gaster by all of monsterkind; Asgore Dreemurr, you and your family are under house arrest until you give us the human child.” She brandished her spear, “Go back home, Asgore Dreemurr.” Another spoke, “We’ll allow you use of the castle, so long as you don’t escape.” Asgore stood for a few moments before he hung his head, “I’m sorry.” He turned before he slowly walked back home; tears began to stain his fur. Once out of sight, Undyne collapsed to the ground in sobs, “I trusted him…” Another guard kneeled to comfort her, “We all did.”

—————————————————————————————–

“House arrest!?” Toriel cried out in worry. Asgore had come home with puffy eyes and stains of tears upon his face. When confronted, he spoke of a house arrest. Everyone held shock in their gaze, Chara only a little. Asgore nodded, “Yes…” Asriel curled in on himself, “Does that mean… we’re trapped here?” Toriel shook her here, “No. I will check the elevator. Surely there is still a way through there!” Toriel rushed out the door. She did not give one glance to the area around her until she reached the elevator. She opened a panel nearby the elevator and quickly plugged a few loose wires together. She gave a sigh of relief when she heard the elevator whir to life once more. She pressed the button and the elevator door opened instantly. She stepped into the elevator and waited for the doors to open once more. She kept calm, holding onto hope her plan was still viable. She could tell her children’s spirits were breaking, even Chara’s. Behind that stone gaze they hid behind, she could tell when they were in pain. She concentrated her thoughts on the plan; soon, that pain would all be over.

The doors of the elevator opened to reveal five guards with their weapons brandished. Toriel stood firm with a frown. One of the guards threatened, “Go back home, Toriel Dreemurr.” Another spoke up, “We won’t give a second warning. Don’t ever try to use this elevator unless the human is here alone.” Toriel sighed before she pressed the button without another word. She quickly returned home to relay the news, “They are at the elevator as well.” Asgore frowned, “We are trapped.” Asriel shook, “No… there has to be something we can do!” Toriel nodded, “Give us some time… we will keep packing. We will figure something out.” Chara, silent this whole time, slowly walked towards their room with a numb expression. Toriel noticed, “Chara?!” Chara entered their room and closed the door behind them. Asriel rushed in after them, “I’ll take care of this.” Toriel nodded, “Take all the time you will need. We will leave you two alone.”

Asriel closed the door behind them. He turned his gaze to Chara’s bed, where they sat with their legs tucked into their chest. They stared straight at a wall with a thoughtful gaze. Asriel nervously approached, “Um… Chara?” Chara said nothing. Asriel nervously looked around the room for something to help, “Um…” He opened the toy chest, where he found the crayons and a few drawings, “Hey! Wanna color some more? Maybe you can finish coloring in this golden flower drawing you did!” Chara said nothing. Asriel whined as he continued to look around the room. He gasped as he found the camcorder. He giggled as he turned it on, the lens cap still on, “Howdy, Chara! Smile for the camera!” Chara turned their gaze towards Asriel, but did not smile. Asriel huffed, “Come on! You’re supposed to smile or do your creepy face!” Chara sighed, “Asriel, turn off the camera.” Asriel blinked in confusion and worry, “Turn off the camera…? Okay…”

Asriel set the camera on Chara’s bed. Chara turned towards him, their legs hung off the side of the bed and their arms held them up at their side. Chara kept their serious gaze, their tone downcast, “Asriel… do you trust me?” Asriel sat next to them, “Of course I trust you, Chara! You’re my best friend! Why wouldn’t I?” Chara held their locket tightly; they hesitated to speak. Asriel raised a brow, “Chara?” Chara sighed, “Do you remember the pie we made for Father?” Asriel gave a small smile, “Yeah, I remember. The recipe asked for cups of butter… but we accidentally put in buttercups instead.” His smile faded, “Those flowers got him really sick. I felt so bad… We made mom worry so much. I should have laughed it off… like you did…” Chara bit their lip before Asriel turned his gaze towards them, “Um… anyway… where are you going with this?” Chara spoke firmly, “Please… listen to me. All of it, okay?” Asriel nodded, worry bled into his expression and voice, “Okay…”

Chara continued, “We will not get out of here. I can see that now. Mother and Father may try to deny it, but I clearly see us not escaping this situation. At least… not alive.” Asriel whined but allowed Chara to continue, “Mother said the buttercups made Father sick, but… what if they could do more? What if Father had more than one bite?” Chara balled up their fists, they began to shake slightly, “Asriel, I… I need you to help me with this. I need you to go get the rest of the buttercups and… help force me to eat all of them.” Asriel interjected, “But… won’t you… get sick like dad?” Chara nodded, “If I am correct, it would do much more than that.” Tears budded from Asriel’s eyes, his voice quiet, “But… why?” Chara relaxed their hands, “Remember when we were in Waterfall with Mother? She said that if a monster absorbs a human soul, they might be able to cross the barrier? And that seven human souls could shatter it?” Asriel sniffled, “Y-yeah?” Chara looked Asriel in the eye, “I need you to absorb my soul. We will then cross the barrier together, get the other six human souls and shatter the barrier.” Asriel whimpered, “But… that would mean…” “I need you to help me kill myself. And I need you to help me kill six humans.”

Asriel stood, knocking the camcorder over onto the floor, tears began to fall from his eyes, his voice cracked slightly “I… I don’t like this idea, Chara.” Chara placed a hand on Asriel’s shoulder, “Asriel, please. You are the only one I can trust with this.” Asriel went to interject but saw Chara shed a tear before they spoke, “I am scared, and I don’t want you to suffer because you have to protect me. If we do this, we’ll be free.” Asriel paused for a moment. He sniffled and whipped the tears from his face, “Okay… We’ll free ourselves…. I’ll go get the flowers.” Chara whipped the tear from their eye, “Do not let Mother and Father see them. Wait until they are distracted,”

——————————————————————————————

Asriel closed the door behind him, a basket full of buttercups in his arms. He approached Chara, “I… got them. Mom’s making lunch and Dad’s packing up his room… so I…” Asriel’s words trailed off. Chara went to grab a flower but hesitated, “This will not work. The flowers make my hands itch. Mother will suspect something.” Asriel whined, “What do we do?” Chara mused, “What is Mother making for lunch?” “Stew… I think.” Chara smiled, “Perfect. Tell her I want to eat in my room.” Asriel nodded, “I’ll… eat in here too… I don’t want you to be here alone.” Chara took the basket and shoved it under their bed, “Go, it smells like it is ready.”

Asriel nodded before he exited the room and entered the kitchen. He approached Toriel nervously, “Um… mom?” Toriel noticed Asriel and kneeled in front of him, “What is it, Asriel?” Asriel frowned, “Chara says they want to eat in our room, and I don’t want them to be alone… can we?” Toriel smiled and patted his head, “Of course. Are they… alright? Do they not feel well?” Asriel shrugged and averted his gaze, “I don’t know.” Toriel stood and went to the large pot of stew. She quickly poured two large bowls of the stew and placed them on a tray along with two forks and two cups of water. She lowered the tray to Asriel, “Here, just come out when you need some more.” Asriel nodded silently before he entered his and Chara’s room. He placed the tray on the floor near Chara’s bed. Chara sat next to the bed and pulled out the basket, “Lock the door.” Asriel quickly ran to the door and locked it, “So… how are we going do this?” Chara spoke as Asriel sat nearby them, “Pluck the stems and mix as many flowers as you can into my stew.” Asriel nodded before he moved so that he was next to the basket and the tray was in front of him. He began to rip the stems off of the flowers and toss them into the stew. Chara slowly stirred the stew as Asriel continued to toss more flowers into the one bowl. After a while, Chara picked up the bowl, “That should be enough. We have to save some for tonight. And possibly tomorrow morning.” Asriel pushed the basket under Chara’s bed then kept his eye on Chara with a heavy frown. Chara dug their fork into the stew but hesitated to lift their fork near their mouth. They stared into the steaming bowl for a few seconds before they took a deep sigh and lifted the fork to their mouth. The first bite was what they imagined. The flowers made the stew disgusting. They swallowed and immediately felt resistance. They clenched their mouth closed before they forced themselves to swallow. Asriel turned his gaze as Chara started to continuously force themselves to eat the flower-filled stew. They both knew this was only the beginning.

#predatortale #undertale predator au #undertale fresh meat #undertale au #chara #asriel dreemurr #toriel dreemurr #asgore dreemur #undyne #chapter 37 #Fanfic #fancfiction

[xoleahbeanxo]

Sanctuary: Chapter Twenty

Land of the Hallowed Halls

           Mouse felt as if she’d been pushed from behind and was falling down a dark well. There was nothing around her, nothing speeding up to meet her but when she did stop, it was sudden and disorienting. She managed to land on her feet without any pain in her ankles, knees, or hips. It was a strange landing that only hinted she was standing on anything solid. The world under her was as much a void as it was anything else. Even her heavy breathing echoed beyond the nonexistent reality she now stood in.

           There was a figure several feet in front of her that was fighting against a mass of blackness that shimmered against the muted darkness like a reflection on the water. Mouse raced up to aid them in whatever way she could.

           To her surprise, it was Grek and she was keeping the masses at bay with her bow and dagger. When Mouse joined the fight the strange globous masses shrieked and retreated back a few steps. They cut much the same as aspic. It felt satisfying to dig her katana into them, though the wound simply closed up as they moved away from her.

           “What are you doing here?” Mouse’s voice echoed into the beyond.

           Grek shrugged. Her mouth was moving but Mouse couldn’t hear what she was saying. It was as if the real Grek was still beyond this plane and only a mirror image dwell in this place. Mouse figured it had something to do with the hyena’s connection to the druids.

           Grek snatched up a few of her arrows from one of the closer masses and started away. Mouse was amazed to see stone flooring appear beneath her feet as if the striped hyena had discovered something about this world that slipped past Mouse’s comprehension. Mouse followed hoping that this Grek knew where she was going.

           The stone floor gave way to stone walls and ceiling complete with muted glowing torches set along the wall. The world was forming around them as if their imagination were registering the images to life.

           Mouse could hear the sound of the jelly things flapping against the ground and then dragging themselves closer. She looked back over her shoulder and saw that they moved faster than she’d believe possible. Even though they seemed fairly harmless, it was still unnerving that they were following.

Mouse stepped around the corner and almost ran into another mass of whatever the creatures were. She backed away but not before receiving a hard slap against her arm. It felt freezing to the touch and burned like white hot fire. The fur patch on her arm went from gray to white in a simple second and it made her arm throb. Her screams only incited the thing to come closer.

As the thing flopped closer to her, she ducked close to the wall and darted forward to get around it. The dodge was close but she managed to skirt it. Just ahead Grek waited for her and then she was gone. She disappeared into nothingness. The very walls and floor where she stood started crumbling and falling back to its strange black reality.

Suddenly the visage of Sheik took Grek’s place. The hyena came into the world swinging. Her sword striking the stone wall silently but with enough force to bring sparks into the reality. Relief filled her face when she saw Mouse and hurried to her. Mouse didn’t waste any time with words, she was sure that the hyena wouldn’t be able to hear her anyway. Instead, she ran to meet up with her.

The floor started to ripple into existence once again. This time it shimmered like sand, climbing up over Mouse’s boots. Sheik smiled warmly and took the smaller girl’s hand, leading her onward towards the waiting blackness. After a time, the stone was replaced by familiar city walls. They climbed up around them as if they were back in Sheik’s home again and down scouring the alleyways as they’d once done. Turn after turn, it seemed as though Sheik knew where she was going and Mouse followed. It seemed as though, the only sound she could hear in this world was her own breath and the sounds of the things that existed in this world.

Sheik slowed her steps and turned to look at Mouse. A sad look came to her face and she waved. Mouse knew her time was up and soon she’d be gone from this place. The smaller girl couldn’t hope to fully comprehend what was going on but was thankful to have her friends and family there to help her out. Little did she know that her journey had just begun and things were only going to get harder from here on out.

Behind her, the mass was swallowing up the path that she and Sheik had made. They seemed larger now, more violent. Their eyes were growing to sharper pits of glowing light. Tendrils separated from their black masses and dug into the floor tearing it away and digesting it as if a breadcrumb trail left behind for them.

“There no going back, is there?” Mouse looked at Sheik but she was already gone.

Loky smiled warmly in her stead and pulled her firmly behind him and led her along. Sheik’s mark on this world slowly disappeared as the hyena had and soon a new path for them to follow came into view. They followed it, to whatever destination lay beyond.

***

Grace pressed her back to the stone wall and took a deep breath. The monstrosities looked far worse in the daylight hours. She could make out the rot and mold forming on the bones that lived among the black mass of sinew. The chattered of teeth within the skulls was almost scarier than the sight. Its jaws gnashed as if it were eager to taste flesh before it took another slow sloping step.

Sarah darted away from a pillar and scaled a tree nearby as if it were nothing. She bore a salt treated spear, something of Gilda’s design. It seemed to burn the otherworldly creatures. It even managed to catch one on fire and left it nothing more than a boiling mass of black soup on the ground.

“We’re running out of help!” Gilda stepped up next to Grace, her sudden appearance caused the hyena to jolt.

“You don’t happen to have a few thousand soldiers in those pants of yours, do you?” Grace growled as she leaned out and fired her revolver.

The salt pellet plunged deep into the closest bone creature. It ignited immediately sending out a shower of maggots and smoldering black meaty bits.

“In these pants, dear? They’re almost too tight for me to fit into them.” Gilda laughed and ducked around the corner at a quick pace.

She made a precise slash with her blade and another creature’s “leg” flew away, smacking wetly against a tree. The body slowly tipped over and fell to the foliage in a smoldering mass. The thing was down but it used its corroded white claws to grab the ground and drag itself along.

“Loky is wearing down, we need another connector,” Sheik grunted and leaned against a nearby tree. “You’re up, doc.”

Gilda grunted and backed away slowly. “Hold the line. Don’t let them see you shake in fear.”

The antelope pranced away at the fastest pace Grace had ever seen her move. The hyena turned the corner and saw another three coming out of the trees in addition to the one that was dragging itself along. There were too many of them and Loky’s remaining lion and hyena army’s numbers were dwindling by the moment. Soon the bone creatures would be upon them and everything would be for naught.

“Don’t suppose ye could use the help?” A familiar Irish accent broke the silence.

Grace saw the brawny badger stepping through the woods into the ruins. There was a slice on her forehead and a few bruises under her fur but she’d never looked more beautiful. Behind her shambled the abominable Cre. She was in much the same shape but looking fierce for the fight. Claudia was the least harmed out of all of them, a comforting smile on her narrow muzzle.

“I found them,” Marybeth yelled from behind the tree line, her and Torvik bringing up the rear.

“Oh god, I could kiss you all.” Grace uttered.

“What stopping ye?” Patty smirked.

“Well, big nasties just yonder would be a good guess,” Cre grunted. “Where can we help?”

Grace gave them the quickest explanation she had and everyone broke free of the huddle to do the tasks they were appointed. Arming with the salted weapons was the first. Marybeth was put in charge of caring for those entering the connection and pulling the people into the resting camp.

Grace was overwhelmed with happiness to see them again, but there was work to be done. She didn’t want to boil their return down to nothing more than bodies to help Mouse in the Everall but these were very desperate times. Things were starting to look bleak. 

***

           Mouse was sad to see Gilda leave. There was a quiet composure in the way she led them along. They’d covered so much distance and her existence in the world had lasted far longer than the other ones. It made Mouse wonder if that’s how this world worked. The ones with the stronger presence in the real world had the stronger mirror image in this world.

It was Claudia’s turn to take her place. The opossum took her place in the muted blackness that closed in around them. Mouse was shocked to see her alive and well. Things were so hectic when she arrived that the last thing she’d heard was Claudia’s carriage had gone missing. Mouse had expected the worst.

“This way, darling,” Claudia said.

Mouse took a sharp breath. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know. As soon as I woke up in this world everything played out like a map in my head. It’s almost like I know the path to take.” Claudia giggled.

“I mean, how are you talking to me?” Mouse was so grateful to hear the opossum’s voice. “None of the others could talk to me.”

“Oh. That, I don’t know. Perhaps I’m just a little more otherworldly then they are.” Nothing seemed to faze Claudia, ever.

Mouse noticed another thing. Unlike the others, Claudia didn’t conjure anything when she made her through the empty world, nothing formed in her wake. There was no hallway, no alleyway. Nothing, the same as it had been for Mouse. There were no answers as too why and neither of them knew enough to venture a guess.

“What do you see? Mouse asked. “In your head, I mean.”            “It’s strange. I see a map of this place, but it’s not the type of map you may be thinking. I can only see a certain distance and then it goes black beyond that.” Claudia’s voice was soft. “It’s so cold here. How are you not freezing?”

“I don’t know. It feels strange to me. It feels like I’m walking through a thick fog. My breath is heavy and it’s muggy here.” Mouse explained. She took the same sharp turn Claudia did.

“Strange, I wonder if this world is different for everyone.” Claudia mused quietly.

           The opossum came to a stop and turned to face Mouse. “My time is coming to an end here. Just know that we’re all fine out there and holding the line. Please bring Annabelle back to us.”

           “I will.” Mouse reached forward to hug the opossum but stepped right through her as if she were a figment of her imagination.

           “Hurry up and save Annabelle, so you can give me that hug for real when this is all over.” Claudia smiled a toothy grin.

           “I promise,” Mouse whispered but she was sure Claudia didn’t hear her since she’d already started fading away.

***

           “You’re up!” Gilda grunted tiredly as she took the revolver from Patty and started to reload it.

           “Aye aye, keep it together, girls. I’m certain Mousy’s close to finishing this thing.” Patty chuckled and ran over to take Claudia’s place in the circle.

           “I hope so,” Grace grunted as she fired another bullet in the army of bone creatures that pushed on through the trees and were converging on the center of the ruins.

           Sarah crouched in the trees and peered out. She wasn’t sure what she saw but something glinted behind the tree lines and it was coming fast. A flash of bright colors could be seen hanging through the foliage. It was foreign and familiar at the same time. Then something broke through the trees that could bring tears to the eyes of the firmest soldier.

Lilian rode on the back of a steel colored automaton horse and behind her an army of brightly colored wagons that bore hyenas, and lions. To her left were Charlotte, Lucie, and the twins. To her right, sat Rebecca loading a flintlock rifle. They’d come to rescue them in their most dire time. How? Sarah choked on her reasoning. How was not important. What was important was that Sarah had to sound their approach.

           Sarah brought a horn up to her lips and blew a deep bellowing roll and Grace snatched a glance at the beautiful sight. Soon a red wolf snapped the reigns hard her carriage breaking away from the pack, taking the lead. She swung a sword ferociously and it flashed in the mid-morning light and they all follow Molly in this final charge.

           Molly steered her carriage toward the camp, slowing as she saw Grace crouched behind a broken wall. “Rounder than usual, aren’t you?”

           “Har har!” Grace smiled wide enough for her teeth to show.

“Merely joking,” The wolf smiled back affectionately.

“You get us out of this and you can make all the jokes you want.” Grace pushed away from the wall to greet her with a handshake.

           Clad in leather armor over brightly covered clothes. Molly looked bigger than the last time Grace had seen her. She looked mature, older to be exact. The little girl wasn’t so little anymore. She was acting the proper lady now and it showed. Grace didn’t fail to notice the salt treated sword she wielded, someone must have told her sooner what was going on.

           “Fall back to the main camp you guys. My men will make a perimeter around the ruins and we will hold them off as long as we can. Your job is to ensure that Mouse and Annabelle get back alive.” Molly’s look was grim as if she’d known more than she’d let on.

           “How do you know about all of this?” Grace asked skeptically.

           “Mother Maggie saw a vision inside of her crystal ball. You can call it what you will even laugh if you must, but Mother Maggie’s prediction are never wrong. I see she is much more right than even she realizes.” Molly explained as she offered a quick thrust with her sword, leading several of the wagons to the east. “In the vision, a woman by the name of Beatrix, who looked much like the master’s wife, told us to come and be prepared to fight.”

           “You couldn’t have come at a better time. Mouse is in the Everall trying to find Annabelle right now.” Grace explained.

           “Then buy her as much time as you can. Leave this to us.” Molly explained.

           Grace nodded and before she could thank the red wolf, she was off to tend to her flock. Grace turned and saw that the others were already falling in line. Marybeth was next and with just a little more luck Mouse would be back with Annabelle and this nightmare would be over.

#Sanctuary #Safehaven3 #leendenwrites