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liquidthedefunctblog · 3 years

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Oh yes, we’re still jumping those sharks. This time Rtas ‘Vadum is serving Shinji Ikari at Burger King.

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The Half-Jaw Rtas ‘Vadum settled at his desk, a mass of paperwork looming over him. He would be lying if he claimed that the Arbiter’s entry of the Swords of Sanghelios into the fast food industry had been any less than a tremendous success. The icy relations between the sangheili and their human counterparts had slowly but surely begun to thaw, and the restaurant had even begun to attract customers from outside of the local area. It truly was incredible what devious marketing could do to make even the simplest of human meals seem like ‘exotic sangheili cuisine’, the Half-Jaw thought. Today alone they had served a group of tourists, a local politician attempting some kind of disingenuous public relations stunt to boost his chances at re-election, and a briefcase carrying older gentleman who managed the impressive feat of simultaneously appearing both frighteningly unseemly and superbly proper. So successful had the venture been that the Arbiter had even seen fit to provide ‘Vadum with additional staff, at least after weeks of pestering from the Shipmaster. ‘Vadum picked a pen from the pot on his desk. An Earth-made pen of course. At first he couldn’t entirely wrap his head around the diminutive instruments, but he was getting used to them. He actually had time to get used to them now that he had other workers to deal wit-

“Shipmaster!”

Other workers like the veteran sangheili blademaster who seemed to have selected ‘Vadum’s office door as his latest victim. The Half-Jaw sighed as the Blademaster’s pounds continued.

“You may enter, Blademaster.”

The door slammed into the wall, chipping the paint slightly. In its place stood an aged sangheili blademaster, his golden armour dulled from years of usage. However the weariness of his armour and body did little to conceal a ferocity in his eyes that would strike fear into even the most hardened of men. This was Vul ‘Soran. The former second in command of 'Vadum’s assault carrier Shadow of Intent, in his prime 'Soran had been a warrior without equal. Even entering his elder years, he had dispatched many of those foolish enough to try and cultivate a reputation through his defeat. Following the end of the Human-Covenant war, the Arbiter had made sure to appoint the legendary warrior to a position fitting of his stature. Assistant manager at a Burger King run by his old shipmaster. The belligerent commander let out a huff, clearly trying to attract said shipmaster’s attention.

“Yes… Blademaster?” the Half-Jaw questioned, his head resting against his hand as though to indicate that he had resigned himself to his fate. 'Vadum held 'Soran in the highest regard imaginable, he genuinely did. This did not mean however that he had to be pleased with his performance as assistant manner. In his short period of employment the veteran had already evicted two customers for what he deemed to be overuse of the condiment dispensers, attempted to fine another for spilling some water, and threatened at least three with his sword for some other vaguely defined offences. Were it not for the humans present one might have mistaken the situation for an evening on the bridge of Shadow of Intent. At the very least this was certainly how 'Soran seemed to interpret his job.

“A young human has been loitering at the window seat. I was prepared to deal with him myself, but Scion 'Juran reminded me that after the last loitering incident you wanted to be consulted on such issues before disciplinary action was taken.”

'Disciplinary action’. That settled the argument about what job the Blademaster thought he was doing then. 'Vadum tapped his helmet in a manner that seemed to suggest he had experienced such an inordinate degree of frustration lately that his mind was simply no longer capable of processing the feeling. At any rate, he would have to remember to thank 'Juran later. She may well have saved that human’s life. At the very least she had saved his limbs.

“Take me to this human, Blademaster. I will make a judgement from there.”

“As you command Shipmaster. Follow me.”

The golden armoured commander turned around and left the office. 'Vadum thought about leaving him to it, but he really couldn’t afford to let 'Soran cause another incident. God only knows what consequences his establishment would already have faced for the Blademaster’s behaviour if its proprietor didn’t have access to a glassing beam. He clenched his hand for a moment before following his assistant manager.

The pair made their way into the public section of the restaurant, and 'Soran gestured to indicate a small human male with a white shirt and black trousers sat at one of the window tables. He seemed uncomfortable, disturbed even, alternating between gazing out the window longingly and staring down at his feet as though attempting to hide his own existence from the outside world.

“How long has passed since his arrival?”

“An hour at the very least.”

“And during that time he has done what? Has he made any purchase at all?”

“Not even a thing. The human arrived, sat down, and hasn’t made a move since. Shall I remove him from the premises now?” the Blademaster growled, reaching for his energy sword. Vul 'Soran was never known for his patience with those who would go against protocol, and the end of the Great War had done little to dull this trait of his. The Half-Jaw knew that there would be no hope of defusing the situation peacefully so long as 'Soran was around.

“Stay your hand Blademaster, I will deal with the human. In the meantime I need you to make a call to some of our suppliers regarding shipments. You’ll find everything you need to know on my desk.”

'Soran grunted bitterly as he began his return journey to the manager’s office.

“I trust that you’ll inflict a punishment on the human befitting of his infraction?”

“I shall do whatever it is that I need to, Blademaster. Now go. I anticipate that the supply dispute will be solved by tomorrow.”

Now that 'Soran had gone, and taken the threat of a bloodbath with him, the Half-Jaw finally saw fit to approach the loiterer. It was a simple procedure really. The physical threat of an almost eight foot sangheili warrior combined with a commanding tone of voice was usually enough to get most disruptive customers to either cease their violations or leave. Despite what his assistant manager seemed to believe, the ignition of an energy sword was not something that needed to be done often. 'Vadum approached the human, who on closer inspection looked to be almost half his height. He didn’t expect a drawn out confrontation here.

“Human. You may make a purchase, or you may leave, but do not continue to abuse our hospitality.”

The human made no clear acknowledgement of the sangheili commander’s words, instead continuing to take in the beautiful view of some cars and a bush that could be seen through the window.

“Human!”

“Huh?!”

This second, firmer address was evidently finally enough to snap the human out of whatever train of thought he was on, and he turned to face the towering sangheili.

“As I have made clear. You may make a purchase, or you may leave, but your continued loitering will not be condoned.”

The panic-stricken male seemed paralysed in fear for a moment, but it was not long before he stumbled around his chair for a bit before lowering his head back towards the ground.

“S-sorry…”

The Shipmaster stood in thought for a moment, crossing his arms. Perhaps he had been too harsh on the human. He had meant to appear firm, not threatening. Besides that, the restaurant’s manager threatening what appeared to be a teenager would be a worse public relations disaster than anything Vul 'Soran could manage. He sighed in frustration before crouching down to the human’s level.

“I am truly sorry if you feel threatened human, that was not my intention. However these tables are reserved for paying customers. Do you or do you not intend to make a purchase?”

“I- No… sorry.” The human said, continuing to shamefully look between at the floor tiles.

'Vadum couldn’t help but feel curious about the young human’s motivations. Most loiterers came in groups, with the goal of disrupting actual customers or simply abusing the staff in some misguided search for retribution regarding the Great War. This one simply sat alone, away from the other patrons and making no attempt to draw attention to himself.

“I see… Well in that case, I am afraid it is company policy that I ask you to leave the premises.”

It was this comment that finally emboldened the human to some degree. He looked directly at the Shipmaster, and it was this that allowed 'Vadum to finally see just how miserable this child was. His blue eyes looked tired, not in the physical sense but rather an emotional one. As though they had been drained of all desire to carry on existing, and were simply continuing to do so out of obligation. The Half-Jaw couldn’t help but feel a swell of pity for the human in this moment. He still didn’t know why he had chosen his establishment of all places to go, but it was now clear that he was trying to escape something, be it an obligation, a person, or something else entirely. And then the human spoke. His voice was still hesitant, but there was a new addition to his tone. Not one of confidence, but of desperation.

“P-please let me stay for a bit longer… I don’t-”

“One moment human,” the Half-Jaw interrupted, standing up and walking towards his office. He felt justified in his interruption. There was no use in letting the human publicly shame himself. He didn’t need to know what he was trying to avoid, it was already clear enough that he wanted to avoid it. 'Vadum wasn’t usually one for charity, especially not for humans. That didn’t make him void of pity however. Sending the human back out would only distress him further, and ultimately be of no use to anyone. Besides that it was late in the day anyway, so it wasn’t as though anyone was in desperate need of the extra table. He grabbed some earth currency that he kept for his own use from his desk, and headed back out. In his haste he completely ignored 'Soran, who simply glared at him in confusion while listening to the supplier waffle on over the phone. The Shipmaster didn’t intend to break company policy by allowing somebody to loiter without purchasing food, but he didn’t see much point in removing the human. He placed the currency on the counter, and looked directly at the sangheili manning the till.

“Prepare a hamburger and fries for the human.”

The other elite gave him a bemused look for a second before punching in the order.

“By your word Shipmaster. Can we have a name for that order?”

The Half-Jaw turned towards the human who had returned his gaze to the window.

“Human! Your name?”

The human turned back around, startled for a moment with an almost confused look on his face.

“Huh?! Oh uh… Shinji Ikari.”

Several hours later the Shipmaster was in the process of putting away the paperwork he had finally finished. After finally getting 'Soran to leave his office he had actually had a fairly productive few hours, and had managed to finish the whole lot half an hour before the restaurant was scheduled to close for the day. The whole operation was going unusually smoothly. At least it was until a furious Vul 'Soran appeared once more in his office doorway.

“Shipmaster! The human is still there.”

“He is a customer now is he not?”

“That was hours ago!”

'Vadum shook his head in a subtle manner. He really did wish 'Soran would stop treating the most minor of infractions as though they were capital offences.

“Do not worry Blademaster. I will have him leave the premises by closing time.”

“You made the same claim previously Shipmaster. With all due respect, should you fail to do so again I shall be forced to take matters into my own hands.”

“Yes, yes. I am sure that you would.”

The Half-Jaw passed 'Soran and left the office, partly to get away from his incessant complaining, and partly to ensure that the human went on his way before the Blademaster became violent. He walked back into the public area to see the human still sitting in the window seat. He didn’t seem quite as despaired as before, and had evidently stood up at least once to dispose of the packaging from his lunch. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

“Ikari was it? The establishment is closing for the day in half an hour; I would suggest that you leave soon.”

Shinji turned to look at him, nervousness once more overtaking his face as he realised the time.

“Y-yes sir. I’ll be sure to leave by then. Can I please just stay for a little bit longer?”

'Vadum considered bringing up the loitering policy, but figured it wasn’t worth it. There was only half an hour left anyway. He would solve the issue as he had done before.

“'Rodam! Prepare a basic ice cream for the human. We need to get some use out of the machine anyway.”

“Thanks… for the lunch too.” Shinji said, quietly and nervously.

“Do not concern yourself with it. I must ask though; why are you so eager to remain here?”

“It’s uh… it’s nice here. There’s nobody around an-”

“Does the human mean to insinuate that we are a failing establishment?” cried out Vul 'Soran, who was currently busy cleaning unoccupied tables, though seemingly more so with listening in to Shinji and 'Vadum’s conversation. The human male’s face turned red with embarrassment and a hint of fear.

“N-no sorry that’s not what I was saying…”

“Ignore him,” said the Half-Jaw. “You may continue.”

“I meant that there’s nobody here I know. I don’t have any responsibilities here, and nobody feels responsible for me.”

“And how did you find yourself here to begin with?”

“I uh, I ran off… Everyone there hates me anyway, so I figured they’d be better off if I left.”

“I see… and what drove you to this conclusion?”

“I uh- I mean I never did anything for anyone else. Whenever they had problems I just hid away until they figured it out themselves. I guess that’s my solution to most problems. Avoid everything until it goes away.”

“So Ikari… I believe the point you are trying to convey is that you hate yourself?”

“I… I guess so. But it’s justified hate right? I’m a terrible person. All I do is use other people to make me happy. I try to force them to love me because I can’t love myself, but then as soon as something happens to them I just run away. I don’t deserve to exist…”

“Perhaps that is so, human. But have you made any effort to solve that problem?”

“I- no, I just told you that. All I do is hide…”

Shinji buried his head between his arms and his legs. Sobbing noises came from within. The Half-Jaw decided to soften his approach, to an extent at least. He didn’t endorse Ikari’s attempts to avoid any meaningful interaction with others, but he wasn’t cruel enough to attack him for it.

“You know Ikari, for thousands of years the title of 'Arbiter’ has been bestowed upon certain Sangheili of great significance. The first Arbiters were the most wise and skilled warriors of all Sanghelios. Part king, part judge, they led the species through even the most turbulent of times. The title in this state lasted even after the formation of the Covenant. It was the very highest badge of honour imaginable to our people. That is until Arbiter Fal 'Chavamee rejected the lies of the prophets. 'Chavamee was branded a heretic, and upon his death the prophets saw fit to remould the role of Arbiter. From then on it would granted only to those deemed heretics. These 'heretics’ would be expected to redeem themselves by giving their life in battle for the Covenant.”

Shinji’s sobbing grew even more frequent. 'Vadum assumed that he had misinterpreted the story to be his way of saying that he could only find redemption in death. Perhaps it was a poor decision to tell this story at all, especially with the wounds of the Great War still fresh in humanity’s mind. But the point of no return was long past.

“That was not the point I was making Ikari. If you would allow me to finish the story, I was going to tell of Thel 'Vadam, the present Arbiter and leader of the Sangheili. I served in 'Vadam’s fleet for some time before his appointment as Arbiter. His faith in the prophets was unwavering, and his campaigns on their behalf were ruthless. I can only imagine how he felt when he was branded a heretic and stripped of his positions. As you may have guessed, 'Vadam was appointed Arbiter. He was expected to die in service of the prophets, as his predecessors did before him. But with time 'Vadam saw through their lies. When the prophets betrayed the Sangheili it was him who led us to join with humanity. Since the war he has made every effort to push for unity. Not only between the divided Sangheili factions, but with humanity and the former species of the Covenant. The Arbiter overcame the worthlessness that had been put upon him by the Covenant, and in doing so he restored the honour to his title. Do not assume that sacrifice is the only path to redemption Ikari. Find your own purpose; do not rely on those around you to give you one. Then you can open yourself to the viewpoints of others. Assist them with their struggles, do not push yourself away. There is pain to be found in forming relationships with others. Even the Arbiter could not unify all the people of the galaxy. But there is no joy to be found in wallowing in your failures, and you will never achieve true satisfaction until you grant those around you a glimpse into your true feelings, and allow yourself to take a glimpse of theirs. Fulfil your responsibilities, both to yourself and to them, and perhaps then you will find that yes, you do deserve to exist.”

Shinji raised his head and looked at the Half-Jaw.

“You- you really think so? But I can’t do that.”

“You will have to. Open yourself to others. Allow yourself to engage in meaningful interaction. Then, and only then, you will find worth in your existence. And besides that, I do not believe that you cannot. After all, you did here did you not?”

“I- I guess so…” Shinji said. He wiped his eyes on his arm, and stood up. “Thank you.”

The Half-Jaw nodded at the boy, slightly proud that his tangential story had made any positive impact at all.

“Think nothing of it. Now return to wherever it is you came from. Take your responsibilities head on, and open yourself to your fellow humans. Farewell Ikari.”

“I- yeah… Thank you.”

And with that the human boy left, placing the wrapper from his ice cream cone in the bin as he did so. The Shipmaster on the other hand turned and headed back to his office to finish the filing. Perhaps this fast food business wasn’t as pointless as he had thought.

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Yup, now it’s a Halo and Evangelion crossover nobody wanted.

#halo #shinji ikari #evangelion #neon genesis evangelion #shipmaster #Rtas 'Vadum #rtas vadum #Half-Jaw #burger king #ikari shinji

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hela-avenger · 4 years

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poison & wine- part 13

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1191

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N: A big reveal at the end! Thanks for reading everyone! Send me a message if you’ll like to be tagged!

You take a deep breath as you approach the large golden doors that belonged to Queen Frigga’s bedroom. You didn’t know why you were nervous. The queen had been nothing but nice to you which might actually be the source of your anxiety. As Loki was summoned by the king to be grilled of your new courtship, you had been summoned by the queen and you didn’t know how you were meant to lie to the kindest person you’ve met so far in Asgard.

You raise your hand to knock but the doors are suddenly being opened causing you to instinctively take a step back.

“Come in, come in,” you hear the queen call out from somewhere inside the room. “Don’t be shy.”

With hesitation, you step inside and are once again startled as the doors shut behind you on their own.

“Quite a simple spell,” Frigga explains as she finally appears from wherever she was hiding. She had a tray of tea which she set on the nearby coffee table. “Useful when trying to avoid certain guests.”

“So it knows who to let in and not?” you ask in amazement. Frigga nods which only brings more questions. “How?”

“Seidr,” Frigga answers as she motions for you to sit on the nearby couch. “In your terms, perhaps magic would be the better use. Nonetheless, seidr is a gift that not many Asgardians are born with. This magical energy is innate and can take on many shapes and forms but its essence derives from its owner. Hence, the spell on my doors acts on what I desire.”

“Very interesting,” you smile as you glance at the doors once more. “Wish I could do that…”

“I could teach you if you like,” Frigga offers.

“Oh, I don’t have the ability so I…”

“Yes, you do,” Frigga interrupts you kindly. “It's how I first realized that there was more to you that meets the eye. When I held your hand, I felt my seidr react to yours.”

You tense at the slight mention of your lineage. It wasn’t easy to let your guard down when it came to that particular secret. You force yourself to relax knowing the queen meant no harm.

“But I haven’t… I’ve never done anything magically.”

“Well like I said, it manifests differently,” Frigga states. “Or perhaps because you’re quite young. You can’t be but a few centuries old, right?”

You nod and Frigga hums in response.

“Well, you should be coming into them, then. Especially with you being here in Asgard. Seidr can become stronger at the source of its origin,” Frigga briefly explains. “With my help, I can teach you how to harness it.”

“If that’s the case, then yes,” you answer eagerly. “I’ll be very grateful for whatever you can teach me.”

“Good, we’ll start with protection charms first,” Frigga states. “And then we’ll move to attack spells, but perhaps Loki can teach you those. I’m not as well adept when it comes to offensive magic as he is. Speaking of my son...”

You can’t help but tense at the incoming subject and Frigga notices as she offers you a soft smile.

“...I’ve heard he’s dragged you into one of his schemes.”

“He told you?” you ask in surprise.

“He mentioned he had a plan last night and I should have known he was speaking true when he said it would cause quite a stir,” Frigga chuckles out. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I would have put an end to it before it even began had I known what he intended to do.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug. “We made a deal and as long as he honors it then I have no complaints.”

“A deal, you say?”

“I mean, in return of my participation in this fake courtship, Loki is going to keep my secret and protect me if the need arises,” you explain. “He said that it wasn’t safe if word got out but he never really explained as to why.”

“Sounds like Loki to leave things out in order for him to get his way,” Frigga sighs out. “But you do need to be protected and though his plan is albeit quite strange it does get the job done. Though selfish as it may be…”

You try to make sense as to what she’s mumbling to herself but she snaps herself out of her train of thought.

“Well, you deserve an explanation so allow me to give it to you, dear. You are not the first demigod Asgard has seen. In fact, there was an era quite some time ago when we had a quite good number of them.”

“And they lived here? In Asgard?”

“They did and in great harmony,” Frigga answers. “Though, they didn’t live quite long. I mean, not as long as an Asgardian would but certainly longer than a human. It caused quite some trouble. Specifically for the Goddess Idunn.”

“I’ve read about her,” you mention. “She’s the Goddess of Spring. She… She protects the apples of immortality.”

“Yes, she did and still does,” Frigga explains. “Parents would demand for Idunn to give them an apple of immortality so their child could live alongside them. She refused. The apples are a delicacy and because the demand was too great and too high, she went into hiding. Her apples long gone. No one wished to have children with the mortals. The loss was too much.”

“A parent is never meant to outlive their child,” you whisper.

“Exactly,” Frigga states, shaking herself from the solemn mood that had settled between them. “But that’s not the reason your life may be in danger.”

“Then what is?”

“It all has to do with the claims of inheritance,” Frigga explains. “Out of wedlock or not, you have every lawful right to state a claim of your family’s fortune.”

“But I didn’t come here with that intention,” you argue. “I could care less about it.”

“I know, dear,” she answers. “But things can become quite violent especially in your case as not many have a high regard of Midgard. I wish this wasn’t the case, but I’m afraid it is.”

You try not to let this information get to you but it's inevitable. All you wanted was to find your father but you didn’t realize you signed yourself up for a potential bloodbath.

“I wouldn’t let it worry you too much,” Frigga assures you. “It all depends on who your family is and the ties they may have to the royal court.”

You can’t help but swallow nervously at the direction the conversation was turning to. You haven’t had a need to lie to the Queen but at this moment you craved to do so. But the truth had to come out eventually and why not with someone who’s been honest and kind with you from the start?

“Then this may complicate things a little further,” you sigh out hesitantly. “Because I have no idea who my father could be.”

Frigga is rightfully surprised and you don’t blame her. You await for her response but someone beats her to it.

“You don’t know who your father is?!”

poison & wine tag: @damalseer @just-the-hiddles @jessiejunebug @nonsensicalobsessions @smollest-soybean @assassinoftheworld @readerbandit @doyoufeelikeayounggod @strangemcuvlogs @ha-tep @i-dont-know-eiither @gene-king @day-dreaming-fox @bn-studies @is-it-madness @sigyn-njorddottir @devilbat @victor-criss-bish @skinny-macncheese @musicconversedance @baby-bunnyxn

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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The Suicide Squad Ending Explained

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This article contains major The Suicide Squad spoilers. But you could tell that from the headline. We have a spoiler-free review here.

Well done! You’ve survived The Suicide Squad!

James Gunn’s stunning supervillain flick is a brutal ride through DC’s most deep cut characters and now you want to dig deep into what happened. So we’re here to break down that shocking ending, where we leave our heroes, and what’s next for the Suicide Squad in the DCEU. Well, those of them who survived, at least…

The standalone (sort of sequel) movie centers around the Suicide Squad on a top secret mission. So off they go to Corto Maltese.

We begin with two crews but only one actually survives the opening bloodbath. Those lucky few are led by Bloodsport (Idris Elba) and the crew consists of Ratcatcher 2 (Daniela Melchior), Polka-Dot Man (David Dastmalchian), Nanaue/King Shark (Steve Agee/Sylvester Stallone), and Peacemaker (John Cena).

Later, they pick up Rick Flag (Joel Kinnaman) and Harley Quinn (Margot Robbie), who both somehow manage to survive the trap set by Amanda Waller. After much scheming and fighting, the team kidnaps the Thinker (Peter Capaldi) and make it to Jotunheim, the Nazi prison where the Corto Maltese government have been keeping Project Starfish A.K.A. Starro the Conqueror. But when they get there things begin to spiral out of control and that’s where we’ll begin…

Why Were Peacemaker and Rick Flagg Fighting?

While this is a movie filled with wild unexpected moments, the most shocking–to some viewers–twist comes when the truth about Project Starfish is revealed. And we’re not talking about the fact that it’s actually a giant starfish-like alien called Starro.

No, the real horror here is that Project Starfish is and has always been run by the US government. Yep, it’s the US who have been testing on and torturing innocent humans, and the Squad wasn’t sent to stop Starro but were in fact there to destroy Jotunheim so that the US government and Amanda Waller’s involvement were kept under wraps.

It’s not something that Rick Flag can stomach as he states, “I joined to serve my country not to be its puppet.” It’s an honorable moment that finally makes Flag a true hero, but it’s short lived. Amanda Waller always has a backup plan and here that plan wears red, white, blue, and a shiny helmet.

Gunn’s searing action flick has a lot to say about war, America, and the nature of disposability, and Peacemaker is one of its most brutal statements. He’s a man who believes he “loves peace” but it “doesn’t matter how many people I have to kill to achieve it.” That in itself is the oxymoron of imperialism.

In that way, Peacemaker and Flag represent two different versions of the patriotic ideal. Rick is the idealistic man who wants to do the right thing in the hopes of making his country live up to what he thinks it can be. But Peacemaker wants to protect his country no matter what horrific crimes they’ve committed. That’s why he agreed to be a mole for Waller within the Squad and why he decides to kill Flag when his former teammate wants to leak the records of America’s Project Starfish to the press.

Sadly for us and Rick, Peacemaker succeeds, leaving Flag dead and the American ideal shattered.

Bloodsport Makes a Choice

With Peacemaker planning to stop the truth about Jotunheim from coming out at any cost, his next target is Ratcatcher 2 (Daniela Melchior). After the explosions incapacitate them, the brilliant young heroine grabs the disk with the damning records, leading Peacemaker to hunt her down.

Just when it seems like he’s going to add another Squad member to his kill count, we skip backwards eight minutes. Here we see that Bloodsport, King Shark, Polka-Dot Man, Harley, and Milton have been setting the charges, which end up going off too soon. As they start to explode (and after the tragic death of Milton), Bloodsport ends up falling through the building on a large slab of concrete, landing in front of Peacemaker as he’s about to kill Ratcatcher 2.

As he draws his weapon, Peacemaker does the same, leading to a fatal shootout. And in a hilarious callback to an earlier gag when Peacemaker claimed he could shoot better than Bloodsport thanks to smaller bullets which would shoot through his enemies’ bullets, Bloodsport beats him using exactly that tactic, apparently killing Peacemaker (more on that in a moment) and saving Ratcatcher 2.

It’s a key moment for Bloodsport, who made a promise to his surrogate daughter that he’d get her out alive, and it’s the perfect way to wrap up Bloodsport’s arc in the film, from estranged father of a young daughter to a man trying his best to form more connections under difficult situations. Yay for the world’s best bad dad!

The Suicide Squad Takes a Stand

Now that Jotunheim is destroyed, Waller calls the remaining Squad–Bloodsport, Polka-Dot Man, Harley, King Shark, and Ratcatcher 2–telling them they have to go back to the US. But there’s one big problem: Starro is now freed and the giant alien is on a rampage.

After decades of being tortured by Gaius Grieves A.K.A. the Thinker, Starro believes the city belongs to them and starts shooting out mini Starros in order to turn the population into mindless zombies. Starro is able to create countless self-replicating copies of itself, so the carnage being wreaked on Corto Maltese is probably only a preview of how quickly Starro could spread their influence throughout the entire world if left unchecked.

For a moment it seems like the Squad will head back into Waller’s cold and cruel arms, leaving the people of Corto Maltese to their gruesome fate. But at the last moment Bloodsport chooses to go back and is soon joined by the rest of his crew. It’s a massively powerful moment and one that transcends even our core team as before Waller can blow their heads up her colleagues knock her out and begin to help the Squad on their unauthorized but massively heroic new mission to stop Starro and save Corto Maltese.

It’s one of several moments in the film that drives home the harder edges of Amanda Waller, who is played as close to a villain in this film as someone like Thinker or Corto Maltese dictator Silvio Luna.

The Final Fate of Polka-Dot Man

David Dastmachlian’s performance as Abner Krill AKA Polka-Dot Man is one of the many stunning turns that the film has to offer. And while we’d love to say that the villain turned hero gets a happily ever after that’s not the case. In fact Polka-Dot Man gets an ending as tragic as his origin. After being tortured by his mother who infected him with a parasitic alien virus in the hopes of making him a superhero he became the villain known as Polka-Dot Man.

It’s not a conscious choice but more of a compulsion as he has to expel his deadly polka dot pustules or he’ll die. It’s the grossest power in a movie full of gross powers but as the crew face down Starro Abner finally comes into his superheroic own.

As Bloodsport becomes the leader Waller always knew he could be, he uses Abner’s fear of his mother and the hallucinations he has of her to help him channel his powers into destroying Starro. Bloodshot yells “It’s your mother” and we see Starro through Abner’s eyes, the creature is transformed into a kaiju-sized version of the woman who ruined his life. His polka dots end up destroying one of Starro’s legs, and Abner celebrates screaming “I’m a real superhero!”

Just as Polka-Dot Man realizes his truly heroic nature, he’s killed by another of Starro’s limbs, crushed but finally happy in his last moments. It’s a fittingly bittersweet end for the unexpected and relatablely depressed hero.

The Final Fate of Starro

Fighting a huge roaming starfish is no easy feat. It takes everything the Squad has to take down the monstrous creature, including that tragic sacrifice of Polka-Dot Man. When they catch up with Starro in the city, Harley takes the high ground using Javelin’s javelin to burst through Starro’s eye as Bloodsport and Ratcatcher 2 try to incapacitate the huge beast.

As Harley swims around in Starro’s bloody eye she’s joined by thousands of rats called by Ratcatcher 2. The rodents swarm Starro, overcoming him as Ratcatcher 2 protects Bloodsport from his childhood fear come to life.

And with that, Starro is gone.

Though Starro might have been a murderous alien kaiju by the end of the movie, they began life as a harmless creature floating through the stars, kidnapped by the American government. To kill him is a tragic but necessary act and one that cements the Squad as very much anti-heroes rather than the villains they began as.

What’s Next for the Squad?

While we know that Peacemaker will get his own spinoff TV series on HBO Max (more on that below) it’s unclear what the rest of the crew will be doing after this. One thing is clear, though. They all have the freedom that they never thought they’d achieve.

After killing Starro, Bloodsport blackmails Waller into letting him, Harley, Ratcatcher 2, and King Shark go. It means compromising Rick Flag’s final wish to reveal the truth of what Waller and the government did in Corto Maltese but it also allows Bloodsport and his crew to avoid returning to Belle Reve. It seems like the crew might stick together, especially in the case of Ratcatcher 2 and Bloodsport.

Plus, once Flag’s friends find out that Peacemaker is still alive, they might have a score to settle. About that…

The Post Credits Scenes

The first of two post credits scenes is the big one. After we think that one good thing happened in this movie A.K.A. Peacemaker being killed by Bloodsport, Gunn has a shock for us.

See, Peacemaker survived–to star in his upcoming HBO Max series–and Waller has sent two of her best to pick him up from his hospital bed where he’s recuperating in order to do nothing less than “save the fucking world.” After the brutal horrors that Peacemaker committed during the film, it seems strange that he’ll be taking a leading role in a TV series. But after the smart subversiveness of The Suicide Squad we’re cautiously optimistic.

If you wait until the final moments of the credits once we’re done with all the good stuff like Special Thanks and celebrating all those amazing visual effects artists, then you’ll get to this gnarly and hilarious little stinger.

If you throw your mind back to the beach-set murder fest at the beginning of the movie, the first character to apparently die is Weasel because no one checked whether ot not he could actually swim. It’s a sad and grotesque way to start the film, but there’s good news for anyone who loves the grody child-killing beast: he’s still alive. After all the drama of the past few days Weasel just popped back up and is totally and utterly alive. That means the people of Corto Maltese should probably watch out as there’s a murderous Weasel in their midst!

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The Suicide Squad is on HBO Max and in theaters now!

The post The Suicide Squad Ending Explained appeared first on Den of Geek.

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scotianostra · 4 years

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On October 15th 1586 the trial began of Mary Queen of Scots at Fotheringhay Castle.

Settle down, this is a wee bit longer than my normal posts, some state it started on 14th, but it concluded on the 15th, so here we are.

You might remember my post a month ago when Mary arrived at her last "prison", the place where she would ultimately spend her last days and meet her end.

If the history books are to be believed. Mary Stuart first sighted the ancient castle towers from a path called since the "days of the Domesday Book", Perryho Lane, on hearing the name Perryho, she is said to have made a melancholy little play on the name exclaiming aloud, ‘Perio! I perish.’ and indeed she did.

Mary was always a threat to the English Queen Elizabeth’s rule. Seen by Catholics as the true catholic ruler of England, there was many a plot to bump off Elizabeth and put Mary on the throne.

For almost 20 years Mary was dragged around England and locked up in its various castles. Having said that she was allowed certain freedoms including rides in the countryside and hunting trips, Fotheringhay was different.

Despite the size of the castle Mary found herself incarcerated in comparatively mean apartments: this brought back all her phobia of a secret killing, the sort of barbarous death that stained the history of English medieval castles. The most notorious being one Edward II son of Longshanks, "Hammer of the Scots" who some say was murdered at Berkeley Castle, Gloucestershire by being held down and having a red-hot poker inserted inside his anus, and his screams could be heard miles away. although most historians do question whether it is true or not, the fact is he was murdered.

When Mary's servants reported that many of the state rooms had been left empty, Mary drew the correct conclusion that she was about to be tried, and the rooms were awaiting the arrival of dignitaries from London. Just after two weeks later on, October 1st she was informed by her keeper, Sir Amias Paulet that her misdeeds were now to be punished by the interrogation of certain lords, and advised her in her own interests to beg pardon and confess her faults.

Mary's reply was that Paulet was behaving like a grownup with a small child, asking her to own up to what she had done. Then she went on more seriously: ‘As a sinner, I am truly conscious of having often offended my Creator, and I beg Him to forgive me, but as Queen and Sovereign, I am aware of no fault or offence for which I have to render account to anyone here below. …’ And she concluded loftily: ‘As therefore I could not offend, I do not wish for pardon; I do not seek, nor would I accept it from anyone living.’ For those who know anything about the Stewart monarchs this relates again to the Divine Right to rule, and they would only answer to God.

The charges against Mary were to do with a conspiracy to kill Elizabeth and replace her with Mary, her fellow conspirators included among others, John Ballard, a Jesuit priest, Weshman Thomas Morgan, a close confident of Mary's, and Anthony Babington, a Catholic noble who is said was the ring leader, the plot has gone down in history bearing his name The Babington Plot.

Whilst locked away, Mary advised the plotters, both in terms of strategy and how to ensure she’d win the English throne. And naturally as the ‘rightful’ ruler of England Mary would be the one to sign off on the plot starting. he plot took shape during the summer in 1586.

Babington informed Mary that he represented a group who planned to kill Elizabeth and install Mary as the new Queen of England. Babington asked for her support of their plan. Mary responded, asking for more details.

Unfortunately for Mary, the plot had been infiltrated and Elizabeth I’s own spy master, Sir Francis Walsingham had been using the letters to entrap Mary and get her to call for Elizabeth’s murder.

Mary agreed with the plans, but did not authorized the assassination. That did not matter however, because Walsingham's spies intercepted the letter. The letter was deciphered and copied but this time a postscript was added. According to the new letter, Mary authorized the assassination. Walsingham had his proof, and so with this false evidence Mary was indicted.

Before the trial even started Ballard, the Catholic priest, was arrested and tortured. It is said that by the time he arrived at his execution site, John Ballards limbs were barely in their sockets, as a result of the torture he’d undergone, of course during his torture he gave up the names of others involved, the main man being Babington, in September the men were executed one after the other and forced to watch as they, in turn were hung drawn and quartered, the same age old punishment for treason.

After the gruesome bloodbath attention turned to Mary.

Now I'm not saying Elizabeth was faultless in all this but she wasn't keen on trying her Mary, not just because they were cousins, it would set a precedent trying and ultimately executing someone still seen as most of Europe as the rightful Queen of Scotland. Her hand was being forced by her advisors like Walsingham, indeed they had their eye on disposing of the troublesome Mary for some time forcing through an act of Parliament the year before called The Act of Association: this provided means whereby a commission of twenty-four peers and privy councillors might be appointed to investigate any conspiracy or attempt to hurt Elizabeth ‘by any person or with the privity of any person that shall or may pretend to the title to the Crown of this realm’.

The punishments for anyone found guilty under this act were to be two-fold: firstly they were to be deprived of their title to the English crown forever, and secondly they could be lawfully put to death under the provisions of the Act. It had been quite clear at the time that this Act had been especially framed in order get rid of our Queen, it was tailor made for her.

The records of Mary's trial were compiled by the notes of those present, who included two persons designated as writers. It would have been nearly impossible to write by hand every word uttered in the courtroom. Some say Mary spoke very broken English due to her time spent in France., I myself find this hard to believe, yes she had been educated in France, but the Four Mary's would have made sure the young Queen could speak the Scot's tongue, at very least.

Mary's defence was set out mainly that, she wasn’t an English subject and therefore couldn’t be held as an English traitor. She’d been denied legal counsel or the right to view evidence being bought against her. Oh and the age old she was a Queen. Anointed by God. It would literally be a sin to kill her.

Therefore, how accurately were the writers able to record her statements? Whose spoken words were left undocumented? Which statements in particular? Did the two journalists favour Mary or Elizabeth, and if so, did they allow this to influence their notes of the trial? A completely accurate record of the trial is unattainable due to the faultiness of its records, some historians just filled in the blanks to suit themselves, depending on their own leanings.

When the trial concluded, Parliament gave speeches and had open discussion about Mary's sentencing. They also held audiences with Elizabeth. During the audiences held between Parliament and Elizabeth, Elizabeth gave two speeches. In her first speech, she declared that if it were not for "the safe and welfare of my whole people, I would (I protest unfeignedly) most willingly pardon her." Elizabeth asserted that Mary was bound to the English laws but reaffirmed that the late act "was no ways prejudice to her." Rather, Elizabeth explained that the law was in place to warn her, but since Mary still acted against the Queen and the law "was in force," there was no reason not to "proceed against her according to the same.' But, if the laws almost explicitly name Mary, then why did Elizabeth feel the need to restate that they were not prejudiced against her? Now I know I deflected some of the blame away from Elizabeth earlier but It seems that this was just another way for Elizabeth to maintain her image of innocence.

Furthermore, Elizabeth explained that because of "this last Act of Parliament" she must "order for her [Mary's] death" The Councillors' plan to somehow remove Mary as a threat had worked. Elizabeth felt her hands were tied in the matter due to the Acts of Parliament, which the Councillors had drafted with specific language aimed toward Mary.

Eventually, Mary's sentence was issued and proclaimed in the English countryside and towns. Immediately following the proclamation, Walsingham drafted the warrant for Mary's execution. The speed at which these documents were drafted show that Elizabeth's Councillors were adamant about having Mary executed.

In late December of 1586, Elizabeth had the papers for the execution drawn up. On February 1st, 1587, she signed Mary's death warrant.

I wont go into the execution as I normally post all the details on the anniversary of her death, February 8th 1587, I will however add a few more lines regarding King James VI and letters between Elizabeth and him.

Around the same time Elizabeth signed the warrant, she sent a letter to James, who had earlier requested that his mother be sent into the neutral custody of a foreign prince.

In her response, Elizabeth asked if James thought her "so mad to trust my own life in another's hand and send it out of my own?

She also refers to the "absurdity of such an offer. In this letter, Elizabeth placed the focus on James's offer rather than on the circumstances surrounding Mary at the present time, basically awaiting her fate. She did not say she was unwilling to give Mary to a neutral prince because she was either considering signing the execution warrant or had already done so.

Elizabeth withheld from James any more of a response than was necessary. It seemed that she intentional1y focused this letter's content on James's request to divert attention from her intention to sign Mary's death warrant.

After Mary's execution, Elizabeth wrote another letter to James. Elizabeth referred to Mary's execution as a "miserable accident which (far contrary to my meaning) hath befallen"

Elizabeth claimed innocence in calling for Mary's execution, but what she wrote next left a sense of doubt as to her innocence in the matter. She told James that she had "now sent this kinsman of mine ... to instruct you truly of that which is too irksome for my pen to tell you.'d While one may infer that Elizabeth sent a kinsman to explain the actual happenings of Mary's execution you have to wonder if that was truly the case. Could Elizabeth have sent this "kinsman" to explain what she would not want left documented on paper? Elizabeth would have known to not leave a self-incriminating paper trail regarding her true role in Mary's execution. Thus, she sent a "kinsman" to explain the actual circumstances relating to Mary's execution.

The truth behind what this kinsman actually told to James will forever stay a mystery because these words were just spoken in a private audience and not documented in a letter, just like Elizabeth wanted. The final question remains: was it the work of the Councillors that called for the execution of Mary, Queen of Scots, or did Elizabeth I play more active role than she wished to admit?

I myself believe the Councillors did not need to have their arms twisted to call for Mary's execution. They perceived Mary as a threat and made it their top priority to remove her Queen Elizabeth's full part in the murky affair will always be up for debate.

As ever I have used a lot of different sources when compiling this, if you want more on the trial check the article below out, remember though every source is different so not all that is written here will relate entirely to my post, it is however a more in depth analysis of the trial.

https://erenow.net/biographies/maryqueenofscotsantoniafraser/27.php Pics are a depiction of the trial and part of the Babington letters held by the English National Archives, more on that here https://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/spies/ciphers/mary/ma2.htm

#Scotland #scottish #The Stewarts #the stuarts #mary queen of scots #elizabeth i of england #history

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author-morgan · 4 years

Text

Kryptic ↟ Deimos

nineteen - fanning the flames

masterlist

But the great leveler, Death: not even the gods can defend a man, not even one they love, that day when fate takes hold and lays him out at last.

Death submits to no one, not even Dread and Destruction.

They are both weapons of flesh and bone, of warm blood and beating hearts, and they cannot be controlled.

ANTHOUSA GLANCES AROUND the Spring of Peirene with a caution. It is not only the Monger’s spies she must watch for, but prying eyes belonging to Kosmos as well. Korinth is a gold mine of information from across Hellas and among the prime brokers are the city’s famed hetaerae. Anthousa has seen too many of her girls fall, though, and stopping the Monger was only the one part of ridding Korinthia of corruption.

Lesya knows what must be done, even if Kassandra is hesitant about becoming too involved with Korinthian affairs when the Cult still hunts her mother. “We have to put out their eyes!” she hisses and Anthousa nods her agreement. Cutting off the supply line of information would leave the Cult blind and vulnerable. It would take years for them to reestablish the same scale of network for trading secrets.

The Eagle Bearer will hear no more from the hetaera, instead, she turns from the spring and to the city —intent on finding a weakness in the defenses around the Monger’s warehouse. “Two of my girls are missing,” Anthousa says quietly, already fearing the worst. “We’ve heard rumors of where they are in the city, though.” The rumors speak of a vile and sadistic place, one where few leave with their lives. Lesya looks over her shoulder —Kassandra is already gone.

“Tell me,” she starts, knowing she will enjoy thwarting the Monger’s plans. “I’ll see them to safety.” Finding the Abron House north of the Temple of Apollo is easy enough. Deciding whether to use stealth to her advantage or create a bloodbath is less so. The home is heavily guarded —too many to take at once when she can hear strangled cries coming from within the villa.

Dropping down between a line of flowering hedges, Lesya prowls along in the shadows. Ahead is a guard, his armored shadow visible over the hedge-line. Pausing behind the armed guard, she springs to her feet —covering his mouth and thrusting one of her blades into his neck before dragging the corpse back into the thick foliage.

Another shout leads her deeper into the compound, sliding along walls and shadows —quickly dispatching those standing in her path. By the time she reaches the source of the muffled shouts and screams, a trail of blood and bodies lie in her wake. They never saw her coming. Never stood a chance.

The man looming over the two hetaerae brandishes a small whip with a dozen leather tails. Their faces are bloody, arms covered with purple welts. He does not notice the approaching shadow until it is too late. One of the girls screams when she sees the blood-slicked blade emerge from their tormentor’s chest. He drops the whip, sliding to his knees —gasping for air and struggling to stem the blood sluicing down his front. Pitiful wheezing turns silent when Lesya sheathes the bloody blade, gripping both sides of his head and twisting until there is a crack and pop. The Monger’s puppet falls forward, dead.

Kneeling between the young girls, Lesya slices the ropes on their wrists and ankles. “Can you both stand?” Both girls nod. “Walk?” Another nod. If it meant freedom, they would run. They both stand, steadying each other. “Here–” Lesya presses two short knives into their trembling hands —taken from the torturer’s corpse. There are still guards patrolling the property and only one exit from the Abron House. “You both need to run, but just in case, stick them in the soft bits,” she tells the girls while reaching behind her to draw the second blade on her back.

She leads the way, past the destruction and devastation, but gathered in the courtyard are several of the guards —standing over a corpse of their brethren. Lesya lurches into battle without hesitation, carving a narrow path to freedom, but the girls do not take the opportunity. Growling, she grips onto the spear lance of one brute and thrusts it forward into the neck of another. With a tight spin and she takes another’s head.

Lesya leaps over to cut the flank of one guard who is locked in combat with the nearest girl, then spins to chop clean through the shin of another. “Go,” she shouts at the girls, stabbing a finger toward the Temple of Aphrodite. “Get back to Anthousa.” The girls blink through tears, nodding and scrambling away, mouthing words of gratitude. She throws one of her blades into the back of the brute attempting to pursue them.

The distraction and opening earn her a bloody lip and nose. Spitting, she picks up both her blades and glances around at the six thugs encircling her, laughing. I’ve missed this she thinks before charging toward one of the brutes with a feral cry —dodging his blow and slicing a deep line up his back. Finally, a challenge.

KASSANDRA IGNORES THE wail of pain when Lesya bashes the last of the Monger’s men’s head in against the corner of a wooden crate —a splatter of blood and brain erupting. Her attention remains on Brasidas, a Spartan General who had met them in the blazing warehouse, though he is taken by the display of brutality and how familiar it feels. Shaking his head, Brasidas returns his focus to the Eagle Bearer and the discussion of how the Monger should be dealt with. “Do this discretely,” the Spartan beseeches.

The clatter of iron on stone draws both their attention back to the crackling embers and billowing smoke. Lesya cracks her knuckles, appearing next to the pair of Spartans. Her face is contorted with ire —the Monger does not deserve a quick death. “The Monger should be strung up for all Korinth to see,” she grits out, “he deserves to suffer for all the pain he’s caused.” If she had her way, Lesya would flay him alive —the same torture he used on hetaera who would not speak against Anthousa.

“Lesya,” Kassandra warns, her voice low —dangerous even. When her gaze returns to Brasidas, she is surprised to see a pallor has washed over his face and now there is deep-seated hatred in his dark eyes. “I know you,” he starts, fingers flexing at the thought of brandishing his spear. “You’re one of the ghosts my men speak of.” He has witnessed firsthand the carnage left behind when Dread and Destruction strike. “You’ve killed dozens of Spartans!” The general spits, venomous.

Her laugh is derisive. “Have I?” Lesya mocks. “I thought it was hundreds by now.”

Brasidas comes to close to losing his composure —the pallor on his cheeks is gone, replaced by Spartan red. Kassandra’s head snaps in Lesya’s direction, her face pinched with anger. “Leave,” the Eagle Bearer hisses from behind clenched teeth.

Seething, Lesya walks away from the pair and is stopped by a ragged-looking boy —skinny and pale. “He says,” the boy starts, voice trembling, “come meet him in the Sacred Cave under the temple to end it.”

THE DENIZENS OF Korinthia wake to a dark pall of smoke. They emerge from their homes, nervous and shy, then confused when they hear the spreading rumors: the dockside warehouse had burned to the ground in the night. More, all have been summoned to the theater that day —which had been closed ever since the Monger took the reins of the city. Slowly, they began trusting the heralds who repeat the summons. By noon, the theater is filled, with more on the nearby rooftops and higher streets, peering at the stage.

The Spartan General left soon after the warehouse was set alight —returning to Sparta to carry the news to the two kings. When you do this, Kassandra he had said, throw the Monger’s bones into the water and let that be the end. But Lesya would not let it end like that. She tied a rope around the brute’s ankles, parading his corpse through the streets to the theater.

An orator strolls across the stage, telling all the city is once again free. Voices rise in confusion and disbelief, many looking around to be sure that this is not a ruse by the brute to weed out dissenters. Kassandra watches from the stage as Lesya appears at the top of the steps splitting the theater in two, beginning a slow descent for the people to see.

A collective and horrified intake of thousands of breaths brought silence as she strode forward, pulling a mangled corpse —both covered in blood. Behind her, Anthousa follows with her head high despite her pleas for a public execution. Lesya drags the Monger onto the stage and throws the rope over the lintel above her. With a great heave, she hoists the corpse up and secures the rope around one of the timber frames. The brute sways for a time, then slows, hanging at a standstill —drops of blackened blood still dripping from his mouth and wounds.

Masses surge into wails of joy as Anthousa takes the stage, repeating what the orator had already proclaimed, but coming from her honeyed voice somehow feels different. Kassandra glances at Lesya —shocked to find a cruel, maniacal smile twisting her lips, but the hetaera moves to her side, leaning in. “Your mother sailed from here on the Siren Song,” said Anthousa over the crowd, “she traveled to the Cyclades.”

STORM CLOUDS GATHER over the city, turning the seas inhospitable. Ikaros had only just returned before the downpour began, bearing news from Barnabas. Even with the rough storm, the Adrestia is still set to arrive before the day’s end. Though now the Eagle Bearer and Lesya sit atop Anthousa’s home. All Korinthia is indebted to them, it was the least the hetaera could offer —shelter, a warm meal, and a bath. Kassandra still wears her worn leathers, but Lesya’s blood-soaked chiton had been taken to wash and is replaced by a thin lilac peplos. The misthios cannot help but notice it is a good color for Lesya’s laurel eyes and copper hair.

Events from the night and morning replay in Kassandra’s head —reminding her of Enyo and the destruction and death she wrought upon the Monger and his men. But now, sitting across from a low brazier, she believes Lesya looks tired and broken. Killing Chrysis and desecrating the Monger’s corpse had brought peace for only a few moments until it faded back to hatred and longing. “What did they do to you?” She dares ask. The scars upon her flesh speak of the horrors even if they do not tell the complete story.

Lesya laughs, a low, dark rumbling from deep in her throat as she recalls every horrid thing the Cult had ever done. “What didn’t they do?” She counters. A moment passes, the bitterness and anger consuming her turn to pain. She wants to cry and scream, but Enyo will not let her. “Have you ever dreamt of a simple life, Kassandra?” The Eagle Bearer hesitates but gives a slow nod —she has thought of one many times and how different things may have been if not for that night on Taygetos.

“A small home in the countryside or by the sea.” Lesya muses, sadness in her voice and a distant look in her eyes. “Children laughing. Teaching them how to hunt and fish.” Kassandra nods again. “It was my dream too. Ever since I was a little girl.” Kalanthe always said she would make a good mother one day, but that had been before the Cult sunk their talons into her, twisting and molding —creating a weapon.

“Even after my father gave me to the Cult, I held onto a shred of hope that one day I could have a simple life.” The closest she’s come to the dream again had been that night with Deimos on the beach. She squeezes her laurel eyes shut. We should have stayed on that beach she tells herself over and over, a single tear running down her cheek. “They took that dream from me,” Lesya grits out, nails digging into her palms. And now I will take life from them.

Kassandra’s dark eyes widen upon the realization of what had been done. The Eagle Bearer glances at her own hands, feeling a wave of sympathy for the disgraced champion. She knew the Cult was cruel, but that, she could not begin to imagine the pain. Lesya watches Kass’ expression shift, her frown turns to rage in a heartbeat. “I don’t want your pity, misthios,” she spits.

Lightning flashes across the dark sky. Kassandra rises, moving toward the staircase leading back down to the night’s festivities. She looks over her shoulder before descending. “We sail at dawn,” she announces. Kassandra cannot be sure if she will see Lesya aboard the Adrestia come the morn.

@jaegers-and-kaijus @wallsarecrumbling @novastale

#Alexios #Deimos #Alexios x OC #Deimos x OC #Alexios Imagine #Deimos Imagine #Alexios Fanfiction #Deimos Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Imagine #Assassin's Creed Fanfiction #Assassin's Creed Odyssey #story: Kryptic #my writing

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ddagent · 5 years

Note

Prompt: Jaime takes his nieces and nephews trick or treating, dressed in a Goldenhand the Just suit of armour. During their last stop, a woman opens the door. Not only is she dressed in the same costume as Jaime, but she also happens to be the most magnificent thing he has ever seen.

This is not at all what you wanted, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

Jaime Lannister stood by his front door and waited. And waited. And waited. But no trick or treaters came.

Sighing, Jaime grabbed the bowl of full-sized chocolate bars and abandoned his post to take up position on his sofa. He rested his boots upon his coffee table and sagged into the plush material. He’d been so hopeful for Stranger Day this year. As a child, he’d seen the colourful costumes; the local children knocking on doors for sweets. No one had ever come up to the Rock; no one had dared. Nor had Tywin Lannister ever allowed his children to partake in such frivolity.

But Jaime was in Winterfell, now, and he’d gone all out.

The front garden of his new home was littered with pumpkins; the rough carving with his left hand only adding to their sinister appearance. Fake cobwebs and skeletons covered the grass and hung from his porch. Inside there were candles and bunting. He’d raided the local supermarket, tripling his chocolate budget in the hope of being known as that house. And his costume: Goldenhand the Just, Jaime’s favourite knight. He looked rather good, if he said so himself.

Not that anyone else would say it. No one had knocked on Jaime’s crimson door all night.

Resting his chin atop his spray-painted prosthetic, he decided to call it a day. Blow out the candles in the pumpkins, turn off all the lights, and crawl into bed with whatever Harrenhal Bloodbath sequel was playing on the television. But, as Jaime got to his feet, he heard voices. Children’s voices. Rapid footsteps moving up his garden path.

“Arya, come back!”

“C’mon, already!”

“No one on this street ever hands out sweets!”

“But they’ve decorated – look!”

Jaime practically sprinted to the door, grabbing his large bowl full of chocolate. He waited, heart pounding in his ears, for a knock. And waited. And waited. More footsteps, a throat clearing, and then the lion’s head knocker rocked against his wooden door.

Grinning, he opened up. Three children stared back at him; two girls and a boy. The younger girl thrust her bag forward, shouting, “TRICK OR TREAT!”

Jaime mimed chest pains at their rather spectacular costumes. “All of you look amazing. You’re…Lady Stoneheart, correct?” The tall red-haired girl nodded, her face pale under layers of make-up. “And you’re the Three-Eyed Raven.” The boy beamed, although the plastic bird taped to his shoulder was beginning to droop. “And you must be a faceless man!” The younger girl had a sword on her hip, and two face masks hanging from her belt. “And you—”

He looked up at their parent/guardian, and kept looking. She was, by far, the tallest woman Jaime had ever seen. Light blonde hair was pulled from her face in a messy plait. Blue eyes brighter and deeper than any ocean stared back. In King’s Landing, Stranger Day parties fell into two camps: masquerade balls with ancient Westeros dress, or ‘sexy’ versions of a multitude of costumes. This woman was dressed as a knight. No ordinary knight, either: Ser Blue, Goldenhand’s companion.

“We match,” he said, almost to himself.

The three children looked between him and their parent/guardian. The faceless child shrugged. “You’re both knights.”

“Actually, Arya, it’s said that Ser Blue and Goldenhand the Just defeated Lady Stoneheart—” The miniature version had slipped a phone out of her pocket, seemingly uninterested. “—and began a new brotherhood of knights before they were called to fight in the Long Night. And afterwards—”

“—they were married, and disappeared from history. Hopefully to live happily ever after.” Jaime’s gaze met Blue Eyes, and her cheeks flushed pink in the cool evening air. The faceless child shook her half-full bag, and Jaime returned to his senses. “Anyway, you all look fantastic. Take as much chocolate as you want; no one’s come round all evening.”

Six hands delved into the proffered bowl; the faceless child throwing a few things in Blue Eyes’ bag before taking more. As the children collected their bounty, Jaime took a moment to enjoy his own treat of the evening: Blue Eyes was a very striking woman. Taller than him. Stronger than him, too: her arms moved with ease under what looked like a full suit of armour. He wanted her to stay. Wanted to pepper her with a thousand questions. But with his bowl now empty, there was no reason for her to remain.

“Come on, you three, let’s get you back home. You can show your Mum how much chocolate you got.” The three children raced down Jaime’s garden path. Blue Eyes smiled warmly at them, before turning to him. Her smile stayed. “Thank you for the chocolate. Sorry you didn’t get more visitors.”

“Clearly I got the best ones. I have something else for you; if you’d like it.”

Jaime took a step back inside his foyer, found a message pad and scribbled the digits of his phone number. He folded the parchment, and dropped it inside the empty chocolate bowl. “Trick or treat?”

Blue Eyes drew in a breath, face pink, before she took his phone number. “Happy Stranger Day, Goldenhand.”

“Happy Stranger Day, Blue Eyes.”

Jaime closed the door, grinning from ear to ear. He loved this holiday.

#braime #jaime x brienne #anonymous #mine: paragraph prompts #ship: braime #still no idea what I'm doing but let's write anyway

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allhalloweve · 4 years

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Axe and Sword: Prologue

Hello folks! This is the medieval marauders au that I’ve been posting about for the past two weeks or so and I figured I’d post it here as well to increase the circulation. You can also find it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/26639461/chapters/64962589. I hope you enjoy!

“Have the preparations been made?”

“Yes, your highness.”

“I hope you did not assign your best men to this job.”

“…sir?”

The king sighed and set his pen down, steepling his bony fingers in a way that bled frustration. “When I made you the captain of the guard, I had hoped you would have more brains, Lucius. Your best men are trained veterans, are they not?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And they are loyal members of my staff?”

“Of course, my lord.”

“Then what possessed you to believe sending them into a bloodbath in the coldest part of the continent was a good idea?” The king’s patience had worn thin. For a moment, he considered killing the man where he stood, but his plans were too far along already to find a replacement.

To his credit, Malfoy looked appropriately stricken. “I don’t know, sir.”

“Fix it. I don’t have time for delays.”

With a curt nod and a bow, Lucius swept out of the office, nearly catching the end of his black cloak in the heavy door as he shut it behind him. The king sighed once more and slipped his paperwork into his desk; he had too much on his mind to worry about silly things like border disputes right now.

Frystmark was a wasteland of ice, snow, and rock. Its people were as barbaric as the creatures that roamed the dense forests and tundra, but they were just as dangerous—his soldiers would be butchered without the element of surprise. The legends about the North were grisly things: people said the warriors ate the hearts of their fallen foes raw and let their children play on the ground with their pets, like animals. King Riddle didn’t believe a single word, but his men did, and that was enough.

Still, getting through Frystmark would be easy compared to the second phase of his plan, even with the treacherous landscape and unforgiving weather. Varghal, the capital, was a veritable fortress, built between shadowed woods and the base of a terrible mountain. The outer wall was guarded by massive wolves and weapon-laden humans alike; to charge it head-on was a suicide mission.

Riddle leaned his head back against his chair, breathing in the sweet wind that rolled in through his tower window. He had been so busy lately—world domination was an exhausting business and continued to drain his energy even after seventy years of gradual conquest.

Silvalith was an untamed land full of impoverished farmers before Riddle rose to power and began expanding her borders. Few alive today remembered his original campaign, one that ended abruptly with a single misplaced failure, but he had plenty of the previous Middle Kingdom to show for it, and soon, Frystmark would follow.

And after the great northern stronghold was razed, once the royals were gone and the land of barbarians conquered…well, it would be only too easy to take the rest of the world for his own. His immortal kingdom.

#axe and sword #marauders #harry potter #james potter #marlene mckinnon #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #dorcas meadowes #dorlene #lily evans #jily #peter pettigrew #marauders au #marauders fanfiction

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maaaddiexo · 4 years

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Chapter Fifteen | Peter Pevensie

[Red Series Book One: Roses]

Synopsis: With World War Two ravaging the world, no one is safe and no one is happy.

Despite their protests, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie are evacuated from London and sent to live in the English countryside with an old professor. Scared and unhappy, only the youngest Pevensie child remains optimistic and ends up sharing her hope with her siblings in the form of a wardrobe that takes them to Narnia, a different world where they are the only form of hope to bring an end to an evil witch's reign of terror.

Rosemary Bennett has no more hope left in her heart. Her brother and father are off fighting for their country, the former having gone missing months ago, and her mother ignores her, preferring the company of a bottle over her own daughter. Giving up seems the only logical plan of action. But when it finally comes to carrying it out, she's transported to a different world, with talking animals and a prophecy that doesn't involve her. Unsure as to why she is there, she must navigate a new world and ponder the possibility that maybe - just maybe - she doesn't actually want to die.

*Warning: this book deals with depression and suicide. Though mental illness isn't what this story revolves around, the act of suicide and depressive thoughts are intertwined with the plot and act as 'backseat drivers' to the novel.

[Chapter Sixteen] [Series Masterlist] [Masterlist]

Peter had been dressed in a full suit of armour and chainmail. Of course, with Aslan gone, the Narnians would do everything they could to ensure the Kings and Queens survived. Unfortunately, taking then out of the fight wasn't an option. Peter and Edmund had insisted they partake in the battle.

Peter and Oreius stood further ahead of the large warriors on the plain. Most were on the ground in plain sight. The rest - mainly archers - were scattered throughout the rocky territory. Some were visible at the top of the hill with Edmund as their conductor. From there, it was unlikely any of the Witch's army would reach them so they had no need to hide. The rest of Aslan's army was hidden throughout the rocks, assigned as snipers.

Rosemary was one of the snipers, only her job was different from the rest: protect Peter. While Oreius had Peter's back on the battlefield, Rosemary would watch from afar and make sure that Peter was safe.

Taking a deep breath in hopes of steadying her nerves, Rosemary closed her eyes and waited for the battle to begin.

•

"They come, Your Highness." A griffin landed beside Peter and Oreius. "In numbers and weapons far greater than our own."

"Numbers do not win a battle."

"No. But I bet they help," Peter said, looking at the battleground before him. Soon enough, the Witch's army came into view and Peter swallowed the ball of anxiety in the back of his throat. It didn't move.

The Witch's army must have been at least five times the size of Peter's, but the people of Narnia had installed strong, unbreakable hope in Peter. He raised his sword with confidence.

Edmund believed in him. Rosemary believed in him. Aslan believed in him.

"For Narnia and for Aslan!"

As Peter and Orieus rushed forward, so did every other creature on the ground. Jaguars, leopards, fauns, centaurs, and more echoed Peter's words with their swords raised. They would win this war or die trying.

From Rosemary's place on top of a solitary rock, it was almost serene for her, watching Peter lead an army. He led with strength and surety and with every wordless command, the army obeyed. Before she knew it, the two forces had collided on the battlefield and Rosemary lost sight of Peter in the bloodbath.

From overhead, arrows soared before sparking and turning into firebirds. Rosemary can't help but laugh under her breath, "This is nothing like Gulliver's Travels." When the attempts of setting a boundary of fire failed, a horn was blown and Rosemary turned to run further from the army.

Just in case their plan didn't work, Peter and Edmund had come up with a Plan B, using their chosen territory in more way than one. The Witch's supporters were mindless followers who acted on instinct whereas supporters of the Pevensies and Aslan were smart and could think for themselves. Plan B was drawing them into a trap - a narrow rocky valley with snipers hidden everywhere.

Rosemary took shelter behind a small grouping of rocks near the top of the valley and waited for Edmund's signal. When most of the army had passed through the bottleneck of the valley, Edmund cut his sword through the air towards the ground and every archer released an arrow.

Rosemary watched her arrow take down an ogre and she smirked triumphantly as a large chunk of the Witch's army was slaughtered in seconds.

Adrenaline ran through Rosemary's veins and any enemy soldier who got even remotely close to Peter was shot down before they ever had a chance to raise their sword. She wasn't sure if her shots were fatal but most of the bodies that went down didn't come back up so that was good enough for her.

An arrow came out of nowhere, sinking into the shoulder of Peter's unicorn, blood staining its pristine white coat. Peter gets thrown off the unicorn, his helmet flying off and landing somewhere on the field. Tracking the source of the arrow, Rosemary could see the dwarf at the top of the valley. With no time to wonder how it managed to get up there, Rosemary nocked an arrow and released it in seconds. The dwarf's body tipped forward, toppling over the cliffside.

Rosemary paused for a moment before cursing under her breath. She nocked another arrow and began running from rock to rock while trying to maintain cover. When she is close enough, she let out a long whistle. Edmund didn't hear her - he too busy watching the battle below - but a female centaur did and followed Rosemary's outstretched hand. Along one side of the valley, the Witch's army was advancing. If they got behind the archers on the hilltop, Aslan's army was done for.

Between watching Peter and warning the archers of oncoming attackers, Rosemary was so preoccupied that she didn't see the creature coming at her until it was on top of her.

It smelled foul, like something that had died long ago and had begun to rot. It was dressed in nothing more than a dirty rag and waved a large sword. It was sickeningly skinny but equaled Rosemary in strength as she fought to get out from underneath it. She got one hand free and managed to punch the hag's jaw, but that only enraged it more. Its sword and Rosemary's bow long discarded, Rosemary and the creature exchanged punch and kick one after the other. When a particularly loud scream hit her ears, Rosemary foolishly looked for the source, praying it wasn't Peter. It wasn't, but Rosemary didn't get to see who it was before the hag had pinned her underneath it.

"You will lose," the hag teased, its dirty hands around her throat. "And you will die with the rest of them."

"Not me. You." In a moment, warm blood spurted all over Rosemary's face and the hag took one gasping breath before collapsing on top of Rosemary. With a grunt, she pushed the hag off of her and onto the ground before her. It lay lifeless with a deep slice through its jugular.

Rosemary gasped for breath, trying to fight the black dots away. Her gaze was blurred with the hag's blood and she frantically wiped it away before reaching for her bow with bloodied hands. She knew her quiver would be empty after rolling around in the dirt with the hag, and she rushed to collect as many as she could while searching for Peter in the crowd, which was a lot harder to do so without a bright white unicorn acting as a homing beacon.

She found him surrounded by the Witch's minions - creatures she couldn't name. Edmund was nowhere in sight and all Rosemary could do as she aimed for Peter's assailants was hope that Edmund wasn't one of the bodies laying lifeless on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

She found Peter soon enough after he yelled for his brother, who was lying on the ground with a growing circle of red on his abdomen. She wanted to scream for Peter - tell him to stop - but she knew that this was what a soldier had to do. Fight. Even if it was a fifteen-year-old boy from Finchley, London against a hundred-and-something-year-old witch with a magic staff and plenty of battle experience.

Rosemary pressed herself as close to the stone cliff behind her as much as she could and nocked her arrow. Like she and Susan had practiced, she tracked the Witch as best as she could but she couldn't get a shot without the risk of hitting Peter. The Witch and Peter were too close and moving too quickly for Rosemary to comfortably take a shot. However, she shot down any other creature that dared to get close to the fighting pair.

When she heard the rumbling roar of Aslan, Rosemary lowered her arrow and smiled. Every creature on the battlefield stopped and stared at the Lion on the top of the rocks in shock. Every participant of the war, regardless of the side they chose, believed that Aslan was dead and gone. Everyone except for Rosemary.

Hundreds of creatures appeared alongside Aslan, including Susan and Lucy. They all let out a battle cry before running down the hill and joining the fight.

"Peter!" Rosemary cried, pointing to the Witch. He raised his shield just in time to block the Witch's blow. Slowly but surely, she advanced on Peter but the boy never gave up, fighting back with more vigor than before. Because his grief had turned to hope, and that was more powerful than anything else.

The reinforcements surged forward, many of them without weapons, and the Witch's warriors fell one by one.

With only one arrow left, nocked and ready to fly, Rosemary searched for Peter and waited. The Witch would take her chance soon enough and when she did, Rosemary would strike.

The Witch knocked Peter off his feet, driving her sword into his arm, reveling in the pained cry he gave out. She raised her second sword, ready to drive it through Peter's armour and into his sternum when she suddenly stumbled back before being tackled to the ground by Aslan.

Peter pulled the sword from his arm and lifted it with what strength he had left. From the other side of the valley, Rosemary stood, her bow still raised but without an arrow. Blood covered her face and clothes, but she appeared eerily calm. After a nod from Peter, she lowered her bow and began walking towards him.

Aslan came to stand next to Peter. "It is finished."

"Peter!" The soon-to-be High King dropped his sword and hugged both of his sisters tightly, glad to see not a single scratch on either of them.

"Where's Edmund?" asked Susan looking around. Peter looked in the direction he had last seen Edmund and Susan bolted for her brother. The three siblings surrounded their brother and carefully positioned him so that Lucy could pour some of the cordial's contents into Edmund's mouth. He was eerily still for a moment before gasping like a fish out of water.

Susan laughed in relief and Peter pulled him into a hug, letting the tears fall freely. "When are you going to learn to do as you're told?"

Edmund smiled, "Ask me again tomorrow."

[Chapter Sixteen] [Series Masterlist] [Masterlist]

#narnia #the chronicles of narnia #chronicles of narnia #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #peter pevensie #edmund pevensie #susan pevensie #lucy pevensie #william moseley #peter pevensie x oc #peter pevensie x fem!oc #peter pevensie imagine #peter pevensie fanfiction #love #adventure #romance #fantasy

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fcarher · 4 years

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A DEEP-DIVE INTO YUNA’S HISTORY WITH NEGATIVE EMOTIONS

yuna has a hard time with positive emotions; they do not feel as natural as negative ones, that’s why you’ll often see her not responding to positivity, apart from compliments regarding her looks. she knows what she is & what she isn’t & is set on these beliefs, thus sees statements like “you’re so nice.”, “thank you for helping me. “ & more as blatant mockery. she can’t seem to grasp why SUDDENLY people were nice to her; she sees herself as a strong & capable fighter, not a friend, lover or wife. she sees herself as a calculated woman; not one that would get out of their way to help somebody. but why is that so ? what brought her to think that way ? there are a lot of instances that have solidified these beliefs but significant events, the origins of such thinking, have been FOUR in total. ( this is VERY long but i’d really love it for you guys to just skim through everything, at last. under the read more, you’ll find four stories/events within yuna’s past. )

HER FAMILY

i think i have already established the fact that yuna’s father was far from a good parent & while her biological mother never had a real moment within her life, there are other people, seen as family, who have made her life even harder. for once, she had an elder biological sister who was born 4 years before her. her name was myra & she was the opposite of her sister; she was very polite towards her elders, cooked well & cleaned the house, could sew any garment one desired; a perfect wife through the eyes of the villagers; a desired woman. & yet, it was always yuna who was talked about; even if it was negative attention; she got it. myra got nothing. & of course, there was more that let jealousy poison her completely; yunaeisha’s looks. she was beautiful, so beautiful that everyone, even if they didn’t like her & wanted her gone, still admired her for her appearance.

next to her; she felt overshadowed. yuna’s eyes were a beautiful warm brown whilst hers were dark, almost black; her hair was unruly, dry & an ashen brown whilst yuna’s was black, yet sparkled within the sun as if each strand was infused with diamonds. it was always yuna who would take the spotlight; be it people commenting on her long silken hair or how bad she behaved; no one had time to spare for myra. & over the years, as both of them got older, myra let her frustration become aggression towards her sister, who was seemingly indifferent to everything; she cut her hair, stabbed her skin, so it would become scarred & not as beautiful anymore; punched her face, so it would become deformed; ANYTHING would she do, so that her sister, for once, would not be the sister everyone talked about it. but nothing worked; everything healed perfectly & yuna didn’t seem to care. & when myra noticed; she became even angrier; more aggressive. she talked her down; everytime yuna would smile or laugh, even for one second; she would belittle her, mock her laugh & expression, make her feel little. & it seemed like those WORDS hurt her more than her punches could ever. & thus, she put everything down what yuna liked;

she got a new dress ? well, she looked like a clown in it. & oh, i heard some boys talking about how much weight you gained, it sure seems like that. her favorite color was pink ? you look ridiculous. you’re not even a real girl, are you ? i mean, i saw you; you were a faceless monster. she wanted to learn more about her mother ? weren’t you the reason why she killed herself ? i wouldn’t question it if you were to cause even more suicides. nobody can be happy around you.

& while, yuna was a demon; not quite human; she was still a child, impressionable with toxicity around her. & she took everything to heart because somewhere, deep within her; there was love for myra. & that’s why she thought; yes, she was right. i am just that.

HER FIRST COMRADES

yuna doesn’t talk about this, these moments haunt her the most; sometime after leaving russia, she found herself in the middle of germany; a small village build around a river. it seemed nice, the villagers were friendly; seemingly, the world “evil” had been completely wiped out of their dictionary. well, so it seemed. the female was taken in by a nice lady, the keeper of a hotel for travelers & of course, yuna had never thought that she would stay there for more than a week or so. & soon, more travelers came to visit, all seemingly ignoring yuna while she was preparing herself to leave; she came to this village basically on bare foot with nothing else to call hers; there was no way she could have survived like this for far too long, she needed humans; their life; their energy. & there, she would meet a small group of ex-mercenaries; frank braun, ludwig aue & augusta aue. they were quite known here as it seemed; everyone loved them, gave them free food, free alcohol. yuna wanted to take part in this,too, because she knew, she was capable enough.

& as days passed; the four of them would become great friends. frank braun was a skilled archer; he could seemingly kill everything, no matter how fast they were. he had been in love with a girl called anneliese, a lady in waiting for a king in the north & his childhood friend; it was bittersweet because he knew, they could never be happy together; she was tied to the palace, he was tied to the streets. ludwig & augusta were siblings, orphans, whose parents have died when their hometown was set on fire; nobody really knew who the arsonist was, though, there had been many theories; an exiled nobleman, a widow angry at the village, a dragon or even a demon. both, brother & sister, had been trained in swordsmanship by a man, an exiled knight, while staying at the orphanage. even though, a woman was not allowed to wield a sword against another man, the knight, eren bräuer, did not care & trained them equally. yuna showcased her own abilities, though, withheld the information about her supernatural powers from them; she loved them dearly, thought of them as family & didn’t want to lose them. the reason why she thought that she could potentially lose them for not being human ? they despised everything supernatural. all of them, seemingly, had their negative experiences with demons, elves, werewolves & more. she was scared & thus, only showed her inhumane strength which all of them admired.

after a month; the three of them took yunaeisha in as their fourth member & thus, traveled further south, leaving the small village behind them. frank trained her in archery & soon, the female developed her own technique & style when it came to shooting arrows. the female even began experimenting with knives & took a liking to throw them even more; it fascinated frank & he asked her to train him as well. augusta & ludwig also practiced with yuna, giving her swordsmanship capabilities the finishing touches to perfect them. within a few months; all of them became better versions of themselves in terms of power & skill.

however, the peace, the laughter, the happiness; it shouldn’t last for so long. after a year of traveling, the small group were tasked with a mission that seemed like any other mission; nothing out of the ordinary. the jewelry of a young maiden was stolen by a middle-aged woman. & through a very detailed description of the criminal; she was easy to be found. nevertheless; there was a certain uneasiness within yuna as they approached her hunched over form within the middle of a clearing; augusta & ludwig were to accompany her while frank hid within the trees to eliminate her from a distance if needed. with each step the female took; she saw the forest in flames; corpses of her friend laying to her feet; her hand bloody; a vision ? it was a trap ! but it was too late for her to react; the sky above them darkened & within seconds had the middle-aged woman changed her appearance to a tall young woman with black hair, chopped off irregularly. a eye-patch; a familiar scent; no. the surprise had been on both sides. it was darrsha.

malicious intent turned to surprise & then, at least for the large woman, happiness. yuna’s companions didn’t understand anything; this demon was happy ? the brute took a step towards the back as darrsha approached her; augusta & ludwig were both ready to attack but the demon ignored them; she rather run towards their newest member & gave her a hug ?

how wundervoll, yuna ! you’ve lured these hunters right into my trap. but she didn’t, did she ? something told her that this whole mission seemed wrong but she didn’t tell anyone. but what does this mean, yuna ? are you a traitor ? are you a demon ? she is my sister. a demon. a traitor.

& then; a bloodbath ensued. she had to fight against her own kin; fight against her friends; against her family ? within the last seconds of the fight; she stood before a decision; who would you kill ? your sister ? your loved ones ? your family ? they were all the same; she couldn’t. & thus, her sister did it. she killed both augusta & ludwig only inches before her.

to this day, she can still feel it on her skin; the warm blood that splattered onto her face; the hatred within their eyes; the sadness; everything. you have gotten weak, yuna. never will i have to see you like this again; strengthen your heart, don’t become weak for these humans.

were these her words or those of her sister ? she doesn’t remember. she hopes frank escaped safely. she isn’t sure. but she hopes.

THE VALLEY OF THE GODDESS

some years after the events within south-germany; yuna was once again alone. she left for greece this time; a beautiful country as it seemed. however, before doing so, she changed her appearance; a tall, slender figure with tanned skin; big ocean eyes & long, blonde curly hair that would reach her calves. everything of her former identity was erased; she could start life anew. however, her preparations would not suffice; she was still yunaeisha adynora, brood of lilith even with a new appearance.

this time, she would avoid any sort of contact with humans. she settled down in a valley where the sun never set; the moon engulfed this place with so much light that it seemed like the sun. it was beautiful; not one human hand had ever touched these parts of the land. she became one with the plants, the flowers, the trees; she studied them, learned from them, gave & took. the animals were not afraid of her; as time passed, they became her companions; they crowded her whenever she was awake, loving her warmth. deers would rest with her; birds would sit upon arms & locks of golden hair. her clothing was reduced by a white loose dress; nothing special. & while she was happy, she also grew weak; there were no humans to feast on. the only vital energy she could harvest was from her own nightmares; it was too little. & thus, she had to visit the town nearby; she had to be careful not to get caught.

with that, every night that would come, the female escaped the valley & would visit the people while they slept. with her other-worldly looks, she would appear like a deity within their chambers; a deity that needed their sexual energy to survive. & while, yuna herself, never spoke to be a goddess, the town’s people perceived her as such; gifted with euphoria & erotic energy when they slept with her. soon; the word would spread that this town was under the blessing of a demi-goddess. they would build a small shrine to cherish yuna within her new form, claiming that she was the child of himeros (son of aphrodite, god of sexual desire) & named her PHILE ( trans. to love ). & whilst, she would never speak to them; they loved her dearly.

every night would the town relinquish in the erotic energy the “goddess” provided & sleep with their partner to sacrifice their sexual desire to phile. yunaeisha, as her other identity, would grow stronger & stronger through that. however, as the blonde woman, as every night, would wander the streets something out of the ordinary happened; the town was set on fire. a monster; a demon ! it was attacking the town; & while the woman swore to never soften for humans; she felt the urge to protect them from this monster.

this time; she didn’t knew the demon that dared to harm the people of this town; it was an amalgamation of terrified souls, having multiple human heads & yet, the body of a lion as it crawled around & set everything on fire. as she stepped forward; all the people cheered for her. she felt strong; she felt loved; she felt powerful. with ease had she created an invisible shield out of energy; summoning parts of broken houses with her telekinetic abilities, only to throw them at the monster. but as they screamed with joy; she could hear terror, pain & wailing. wait...it was coming from this monster! suddenly, she would stop her attacks, withdrawing her shield. everyone became terrified; screaming that the gods & goddesses had forsaken them. she stepped closer; on barefoot; the loose white gown trailing after her. it was scared; it was a helpless soul. & as she touched its middle; leaning her forehead against his grey skin; she could understand it.

the pain. the torture of this animal. it all seemed so familiar. tears would flow; she spoke to this being, a tortured soul but not of a human; it was a lion cursed with the souls of these humans who have tortured this poor animal to death. & for what ? the fur, the meat. it was disgusting. & as they screamed for her to kill the monster; she felt her soul rumble. she turned towards the town & screamed; it shattered everything in its path. her eyes were ridden of her blue irises; they shone like two stars. because while she posed as a demi-god, yuna forgot that, truly, she was also born from a goddess. the love for this poor creature had awakened it; her purifying powers. she hated this town; she hated the people; she hated everyone. how could they have betrayed her like that ? she could hear the thoughts they had while killing this poor soul; die ! die ! die ! die ! monster ! monster ! beast ! & she would let them feel the true power of such a beast.

& the next morning; she was awoken by the smell of smoke; she laid within her white dress, though, her hair was once again black. she was back in the valley & next to her laid a white lion. she smiled & went back to sleep.

HER FIRST LOVE

a hundred years later, perhaps even more, perhaps even less; the 1970s were a blessing, better than the 1870s, at least. no more wars to fight, as it seemed. the female decided to break free from her comfort zone & travel to another continent; asia & to be precise, japan. there, she would start working for a modeling agency. she was not crazy popular but a small celebrity, indeed; the opinions on her would differ into both extremes; some would love her & die for her & some hated her so much that they wanted her to die. however, the female didn’t care so much about that, she just wanted to have fun.

on a cold day within july; a bad omen; her life would change. she was asked to model for a campaign that would promote the MMA fighters of japan; at first, yuna didn’t like the idea & turned it down. however, later agreed on it as the money she would get was raised. also, she found all of the males she would pose with quite attractive, therefore, it wouldn’t be such a bother. & yet, not one of them would speak to her on set; it didn’t upset her as much as she would let on to. & as everything was about to be wrapped up; the blonde one of them would walk up to her & speak with her in Japanese. yuna just looked at him quite perplexed, not understanding one word & asked in English what he was saying. oh, she wasn’t Japanese ! but your name..yuna. it’s actually yunaeisha.

he was quite embarrassed & the laughter of his mates would not aid him in any way; though, yuna found this quite cute, therefore, she would offer him a date to compensate for this little ordeal. he agreed in broken English; at least, it was understandable & quite cute.

needless to say, one date turned to a couple hundred dates. shisui takeda, 26 years of age, a heartthrob within the MMA community. who would’ve thought that such a dorky personality would every become a couple with yunaeisha ? nobody, thus, quite the outrage ensued within gossip magazines & tabloids, belittling yuna & saying that she was not good for shisui. well, the whole relationship wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for shisui’s stubbornness; quite surprising, considering that the female never thought that there was a human who could match her within that trait. whenever there was an interviewer or paparazzi asking about his girlfriend, the male would speak highly of her, talking about future plans; having a big family. & while yuna was angry about his openness; she found it endearing. he was the first person that would openly praise & flaunt her to everyone. & he understood, that her harsh remarks & her teasing; they were substituting the “i love you” he never got.

when he was in bruises, she kissed each & every one of them. when she awoke from a nightmare, he would hold her until she fell asleep again. when she told him everything; what she was, what she did; he still loved her. when he told her about his rough childhood; how his father died in a car-crash & his mother was always shunned for being the single parent for him, not wanting to marry again because she still loved his father, yuna smiled & kissed his tears away. they were happy within these five years; so happy that he wanted to propose to her, making her his forever. shisui knew that there would be another outrage, but he didn’t care. he just wanted to be with yuna.

& on the night of their five-year-anniversary; they met within a fancy restaurant. yuna would once again complain that he was not wearing a suit & his hair was slicked back; she loved his natural hair much more & he loved his biker jacket with the matching leather pants much more. & as the desert drew near; shisui started to become nervous, suddenly starting to talk about how much he loved her & how beautiful she looked. yuna was confused & asked what was wrong. however, just before he was about to get down on one knee, his eyes saw a red spot on her forehead & he jumped in front of her, knowing what that was.

blood. blood everywhere. screams. tears. pain. EVERYTHING came crashing down at once as shisui laid before her, blood pooling beneath him as his hand pushed against the wound. the bullet had entered his chest. so much blood. yuna panicked; she screamed for a doctor. she didn’t know what to do. her own blood. it didn’t work ! why ? why ? WHY ? a bullet engraved with bible phrases ? a demon hunter. yuna saw shisui’s face; it was wet. wait, was she crying ? but he only smiled. he knew what was coming. but she screamed again. she didn’t even notice how the hunter entered the restaurant; how he stared at her, pointing the gun at her. she couldn’t tear her eyes off shisui. he was everything. he was her past. he was her present. he was her future. i love you he said, coughing up blood, tears starting to form within his own eyes. he raised his arm; something sparkled between his fingers. a ring. oh no. oh no. no no no no no NO NO NO NO NO ! she felt the weight of this; he was going to die. she could feel it. it was too late & with his last breath; he asked her to marry him.

“ YOU IDIOT ! OF COURSE, I’LL MARRY YOU ! “

& he was gone; his soul, she couldn’t feel it anymore. she could only feel this rage. she was never allowed to love. the last thing she heard was the sound of the gun & the laughter of the hunter. it was all gone. you were alone again. happiness was not for you. never.

#˗ ˋ † ʟᴏʀᴇ ﹕ does it haunt you any longer; the oldest of evil !#( OKAY I SPENT 5 HOURS ON THIS OR SO )#( its so fucking long ok )#( basically four stories )#( its all sad )#( nothing positive ahashahshas )#( 3.500 words & almost 20.000 characters )#( fuck me )#( nobody is going to read this right ? yup )#ask to tag.

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decendingfromgrace · 4 years

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Festival of Sound

Fantasy!Bakugou x fantasy!fem!reader 18+

Warnings: violence, blood, gore, harassment (not by Katsuki), lots of fluff, sweet times and happy ending, cultural customs and world building (I have cultural traditions and some background information so that’s what I’m talking about)

Words: 8,700

King Katsuki and his beloved wife are going on a trip to reader’s homeland but there’s a reason why she left in the first place and Katsuki finds out all to well.

@lady-bakuhoe I figured out how to make header images so thank you for the help!

Artwork in header not mine, and I couldn’t find the artist, sorry.

The king of all dragon kind, the great progenitor of the ancient wyverns was not expecting his dearly beloved dragon queen to burst into their throne room raving nonsense about some kind of festival, or so he tried to gather. Her sparkling eyes, wide smile and pacing made him not only curious but also annoyed slightly, however when she shoved a flyer into his face he suddenly understood what she was excited about. The flyer was majestic and filled with fanciful words about a musical festival that would span for three days, it's famous title sprawled across the front of the worn paper flyer.

"The Festival of Sound?" The king asked with a raised blond eyebrow at his queen who grinned intoxicatingly. She nodded and settled onto the identical throne as her royal husband's and leaned over onto his shoulder.

"Once in five years, when the twin moons are full, my old town celebrates by throwing a huge festival. There's music and dancing and they serve amazing food, oh Katsuki it's simply amazing. I was thinking we could go together, we would only miss the first day but-"

"No." The queen paused her excited rambles to look at her husband’s crimson eyes which were under knitted brows. A frown brought the queen's smile down and all but shattered her joy when his set glistening gaze did not alter.

"Couldn't you think about it first?" The king shook his head and crossed his arms defiantly. If a festival of humans so much as saw the infamous dragon king, they would send for the guards and the joyful festival would turn into a bloodbath. Both rulers knew this, but that didn't stop the striking heart ache the queen felt at the flat disapproval of her beloved. She didn't need his permission to leave, but without him at her side the festival would feel empty and cold.

"I know what you're thinking, but give them a chance. We've been trying to form peace between the humans and dragons for years so why not make this into one of those chances?" She tried to persuade him with her big sparkling eyes and smile but all she was rewarded with was a curt "no" again. She signed and her shoulders hunched, the flyer limply held in her hands, and her eyes darted away as a sober feeling hallowed out her heart.

"You know I haven't visited my old home in a while, and I thought it would be nice to get away from the kingdom for a bit. The festival was just a way for me to show you a portion of my old life, before I became the "Great Empress of Flame"" His eyes sharped at her and a scowl formed over his mouth, while his eyes rolled away from her face. She looked to his face then at the armrest of the polished glittering throne, surrounded by soft furs and treasures, truly a symbol of both their royalty.

"I adore it here, and I love you. I just wanted to show you a bit of my world since you've shown me so much of yours." A full sigh was heaved from the king, his garnet stare softened. The queen rose from her golden throne and crumbled the flyer in her hands. Her striking tattoos along her shoulders and arms, jewelry of beads and dragon teeth necklaces, and her glimmering wedding ring all remained Katsuki of the leaps and bounds she had to undergo to be his other half.

"You're right, it was a dumb idea. I'll go and check on the patrol and then we can go hunting for dinner-" A warm large hand held hers and she looked to her king who was scanning her face with an understanding and loving gaze.

"This really means a lot to you, huh? ....Let me get the patrols set up for the next four days and we can head out first light tomorrow." A dazzling smile plastered onto the queen's countenance and she wrapped the king in her own bone bending hug, she kissed his cheek andsquishes his face in her palms while kissing his nose. .

"Aw Katsu! You really are a big softly under all that fuss and angry eyebrows." The king growled and gently bit the top of her ear but returned the hug nonetheless. The queen really did have a large sway over the king, whether he admitted it or not. She pulled away and kissed his forehead, eyes alight with a new found eagerness and she laughed at the disheveled looking king who was blushing fervently from his wife’s adoration.

"I'll go pack some provisions while you go take care of the patrols. This is going to be so much fun Katsuki, thank you!" She smiled and he smirked at her back as she fled to their bedroom to pack, her gate gaining a slight bounce in that special way that showed when she was filled with overwhelming joy. He rolled his eyes and stood up, she really was a handful at times but dammit if he didn't love her for it. He marched on to ready the kingdom for the absence of their rulers for the next few days.

"Dumbass, how far away is your home town? We've been flying for days now." It had only been a few hours and the king demanded that the queen would fly on the way there and back since it was her plan to go. She didn't mind, being able to spread her sienna wings and feel the air glide over her scales made the trip worth it, the clouds let small peaks of sunlight shine down on her light red, orange and gold scales. Each royal member of the dragon throne was able to transform into their primordial dragon form, the queen needed to practice for many years before mastering this ability, but her love never allowed her to give up and he suddenly thanked those long hours for he now rested comfortably on her back as she flew. Her chest rumbled at the agitated king riding on her back as she gracefully swooped under an arch made of rock and pulled up to avoid splashing into the sea below. Her hometown was a ways away still, having been founded in an old woods far off from the rest of the world made the small village secluded and practically unknown. Katsuki rolled onto his back and adjusted on the soft scales and small spines along the queen's dragon form and stared out to his right at the cliff side they were flying from, a small bundle of anxiety flared in his chest at the realization they had left their kingdom's territory and were heading farther away from their sanctuary of lush forests, mountains valleys, and their castle of smooth rock and warm stone. He didn't know what to expect to happen at this festival, but he came upon the notion that his loving queen had adapted so much of her heart, body and mind to be his queen and rule his kingdom with him, and so he figured the least he could do would be to see a portion of her old life. He sighed again and rolled into his stomach so he could look at the horns and spines of his lover who was flawlessly navigating the wind currents and ocean they were traveling over. She had come so far from being that meek sell sword that fell into his den during that human raid, to mastering the ways of the dragon kin through intense training and learning of dragon customs, then to claim and ascend onto her rightfully earned throne even after battling to the near death to keep it, her scars showed the signs of her victories. Katsuki found himself pressing himself deeper into the warm scales below him, as his wife gilded around a cascading waterfall, she made sure to wrap her wings around her love to prevent the water from soaking him.

He didn't understand the custom, he didn't understand the importance of dancing and music but the simple reason that he didn't need to know why but how to make her happy made him join his queen on her small journey. She was excited and that was enough for him, so he remained quite as she rose above a jagged portion of seaside rock and looked out on a vast new land of grasslands and spare patches of trees and a few veins of rivers that pooled into moderately sized lakes.

The day moved quickly as the sun was venturing below the horizon and the droopy feeling of night time fatigue began to seep into the mind of the two traveling lovers. A great roar of a yawn echoed from the maw of the sienna dragon ruler, her flying pattern faltered but she was quick to readjust. She shook her mighty horned head and pushed on ward as the dense forest came into view, determination forcing her to set aside her waning tenacity. A hand pressed firmly against her scales on her neck and her gaze looked to her right shoulder where Katsuki was groggily gazing at her, sleep evident in his eyes and the way his hair stood up at odd ends indicated his interrupted sleep. A small chuckle was stifled by the dragon queen.

"Hey, hon. Come on, you need rest. Make for those caves there and we can set up camp." The dragon queen shook her head again and easily moved her wings to fly faster and harder than before, even though her muscles begged her to stop. A soothing touch of the king's forehead against her neck made his intentions and words make their way into her heart and the idea of rest out weighted the idea of overworking herself. A low groan passes the dragon's jaws and she gently swooped down on powerful wings to the mountain outcropping Katsuki spotted, the stone was chilled but it was a decent shelter from praying eyes and unwanted presences. The great dragon queen crouched to allow her love to slide down from her scaled back, and then transformed back into her human form, tired and weak. The sun's light had long been gone when the queen finally was able to rest, flying over rough terrain, battering winds and unruly seas tried her immensely. In a swift moment, she became weightless as strong arms lifted her into a warm embrace. Her love's hold on her as he carried her to the back of the cave caused that sleepy feeling to multiply.

"You push yourself too far, dumbass." Katskui mumbled to (y/n) who smiled and snuggled deeper into his chest.

"Nah, you're just heavy." A loud set of giggles came from the queen as her sides were tickled until she submitted and was set down onto a soft red cape, the soft fur on the cloak's neck made a comfortable pillow. The dragon king set up the fire they needed to warm the stone around them, and with the flame that resides inside his heart, he blew the scorching heat at the bundle of logs and set it ablaze. The king brought the furs they packed and made a makeshift bed, gathered himself and his love and held her close.

"The town isn't much farther, we should make it by tomorrow afternoon. I can't wait until you hear the music, and try all the food." Katsuki pulled the women closer by the waist and silenced her by pressing her head into his heart beat.

"Right now all I want to hear are your snores, everything else can wait until morning." Small protests of how she did not snore came from the queen but her sleepy mumbles quickly silenced as her soft snoring lulled the king into his own slumber, as their limbs tangled together and their shared heat soothed the chilled stone.

Soft bird song and light morning rays awoke the sleeping queen from the cocoon of blankets and furs she was in. She felt around but found no peacefully rising chest beside her and sat up, her hair in an unruly mess as her eyes groggily opened and closed as she sat up and a massive yawn stretched her mouth. A chuckle was heard and a delightful scent of cooking food roused her.

"The Great Empress of Flame has awoken, all bask in her glorious presence." Katsuki teased as she rubbed her sleepy eyes. Her gaze fully opened and she saw her beloved husband stoking freshly caught elk on a relit fire, his bare chest and back carried the tattoos and scars of many past battles and memories, her favorite one was the ornate letter of her first name on his shoulder. She had her own battle scars and inked symbols on her shoulder resembling his but instead hers had a K. She wrapped his crimson cloak around her shoulders and scooted close towards her love, he kissed her forehead and briefly pressed his forehead to her's before handing her breakfast on a large tree leaf. She took a bite and a warm flush of smoky venison ignited her taste buds and a smile spread over her face. Katsuki's pride swelled as his wife’s contentment was caused by his care and he gladly welcomed her wanting to press into his side as they ate. She draped the cloak around his shoulder and snuggled into his side and he encircled his arm around her shoulder, her free hand passed over a large three gashed scar that resembled a dragon's claw on his back and the king shuddered. Their soft silence was met with the droplets of the morning dew falling from their perch on the overhead stone of the cave.

"We should move soon. If we make it over the valley to the west then we'll make it well in time." The strong blond beside the women swallowed the remains of his food as the queen stood to stretch her arms above her head as the cracking of her stiff joints filled the air, her hair reflected the morning sun like freshly ignited embers and her eyes caught the sun's rays in a shimmer of color.

"That maybe tough since were walking the rest of the way." The queen paused and looked at her king who was caught admiring her beauty, her blush was brushed off as her concern overcame it.

"Walk? We'll lose half the day doing that, by the time we'd make it to the town-"

"The festival will just be starting. You need to regain your strength." The king got up, cracked the stiff vertebrae of his neck, pulled his queen by the back of the neck for a kiss, and began gathering their limited supplies of a pac each.

"Come on. There's a small spring we can go and get cleaned up in. Wouldn't want those townsfolk getting a shitty first impression." The queen shorted and swung her pac over her shoulder and braced as the chilled morning breeze ruffled the cloak around her shoulders and the thick fog that hung over everything clouded her vision slightly. Her husband huffed before clasping the cloak together and pulling it right under her chin, she sneezed when the soft white fur tickled her nose. The king kissed her head before they began to move, the dew droplets on the forest grassy floor made a trail of where they parted the blades and passed under the canopy of ancient oak, the shorter female member of the band of two marveled at the way a spider web caught the glowing sunlight in the water droplets that made perfect circles.

The fog hung heavily, providing ample cover to any spying eyes that may cause threat to the two as the king pushed his pac higher onto his shoulder. He glanced at his wife who was happily watching a pair of birds snuggled into a neat nest of grass and weeds. A cold wind picked up and she shivered and then pulled the warm cloak higher on her neck and sighed at the scent it gave off, he smiled.

Upon seeing the large spring, the two began to settle their belongings under a nearby shaded oak and they parted so she could pick up a few sweet and nice smelling herbs for soap and he made a quick patrol for any threats.

Her soft humming floated to his ears and he turned to find her figure reappearing form the forest brush, a small bundle of flora and foliage in her arms. She smiled and shifted the bundle to show her successful gathering and he smirked at himself before placing his calloused hands on his bare hips which she took notice to and blushed, her gaze looking away.

She settled down at the pool's edge and called him over, he waded through the water and rested his arms and head on the stone ledge.

"Ok, I found lavender, lemon balm, mint, katsura, and chamomile." Which one do you want?" The king lazily pointed to the caramel scented katsura with a goofy smile and she nodded and went to work.

"I'll put this together and then I'll join you." He simply watched her work, studying her movements, facial expressions, and the simple sway of her hair and the twinkle in her eyes. After a bit she was done and handed him his portion of the makeshift soap and he walked back under the waterfall to wash, he felt her eyes gazing at the muscle of his back as he moved.

He was scrubbing his hair when a gasp and shriek was heard making him quickly break through the cascading water, blade drawn ready to confront any danger, yet the only thing he saw was her nude skin shivering violently under the waterfall as her eyes darted to him.

"What are you-?" Katsuki barely asked before she darted to the cave under the fall and huddled closer to herself, her arms wrapped tightly around her.

"You never said the water was this damn cold!" She shivered and a boasting laugh came from the bemused king and the queen nearly dunked him then and there. Seeing his queen's chilled figure but blazing with anger eyes, he calmed and gently picked her up unto his arms, her legs eagerly wrapped around his waist to leech off his warmth as he suspended her.

"Come on dear, it's not that cold." She huffed and grabbed a portion of his soap and began running her digits through his blonde hair as he snuggled his nose into her neck.

"Says you. Now hold still so I can properly wash your hair." He pinched her behind out of revenge for the tease but she smacked his shoulder a moment after, their shared laughs echoed off the cave walls.

"Dunk please." He tilted back into the falling stream of water to rinse the suds from his blonde head, she then followed by ruffling his hair and allowing him to begin his determined scrubbing of her locks. The sleepy camomile sent swirled around the two as he massaged her scalp and she gently ran her hands over and around his body, the rushing water behind them made a nice white sound to soothe the voiceless air. Once she rinsed her hair and allowed her lover to smooth the sweet smelling soap over her skin and she did the same for him, she went back to dry off while he stayed behind to finish up. She made it to the edge of the pool when a call of her name brought her attention to the top of the waterfall where a nude Katsuki stood in all his ridiculous glory, smirking triumphantly and puffing his chest out.

"You like the view darling?" His booming voice called down to his queen who was covering her giggles with her hand, her smile was heard in her yell of a reply.

"I wonder if I join you, I'd get a better one." She felt his newly glowing gaze travel and cover her as she strutted up the stones and met him at the top. Her lover laughed and his gaze held the acceptance of her challenge, the chill from the morning breeze made both of their skin flushed roses but the joy of such a challenge lit a delightful feeling in their hearts.

"Largest splash wins." The queen challenged and the king nodded, his signature confident and smug grin pulling his lips up to show his teeth. The queen gestured for him to proceed and with a mock battle cry, the king dives into the chilled water meters below with a decent splash. He resurfaced with a large smile and a triumphant glint in his red eyes, he laughed loudly and shook the water from his blond hair.

"Beat that hun!"

Upon her over look of old corroded stone, the queen wrapped her hands firmly around her hips and tilted her head up, the slow sun warming the world surrounding the two and the king swore she was an angel as the light danced around her. Surprisingly, she turned around and marched to the point where the grass and stone met and the path down to where the king met her feet. She braced her legs and curled her toes into the earthy soil, then took off into a sprint that hurtled her off the ledge, but before her skin hit the water's surface her dragon form was summoned and a total wave cascaded down onto the king. His sputtering was stopped when a massive warm presence easily lifted him to the dry comfort of the couples makeshift area, a prominent scowl contorting his features.

"That's cheating dumb ass!" The glare sent to the dragon in the pool waned when the dragon became a beautiful woman who was giggling and smiling widely.

"All's fair in love and war, my heart. Now accept that I won and that we need to get moving” The king snorted and bit back his retort and instead grumbled a "yes dear" before doing as she asked, a smug look twinkled in her eyes, while the king braided her wet hair.

Hiking proved to be slightly more tiring than flying to the queen, her feet ached from stepping over the recent quarry she and her lover passed through. Yet as the sun swung higher into the clear sky and stone turned to grass, she found herself enjoying the sights she long thought forgotten. Her days were spent ruling and that potent want for adventure fizzled out when she married the love of her life and decided that no adventure would amount to any satisfaction to the burn in her heart without her love beside her, through each tired step of the way. The dense trees and mountains were behind them now and vast plains of grass and open air became their new surroundings, the wind calmed as the weeds under the pair's feet were crushed. The afternoon had set in not long after their departure from the spring, and the process of changing the hour seemed to speed up more once they left the forest, however in the seemingly endless sight of rolling hills before the two time seemed to bend to its own will and stopped momentarily as the fading light of the sun spread over the hills turning them gold, each hill looked as though it were a sun dipping below its own miniature horizon. The pair stood atop one of these brilliant hills and watched the sun disappear from view fully, leaving only the blue-black shimmer of the night sky above their heads, the hills themselves seemed to sign into slumber as the winds stilled completely. The queen, tired but not undeterred, looked to her love who was silently calculating the remaining distance. She just watched him in the afterglow of the day, the way his eyes sharpened to adjust to the low light, how his jaw set when he began thinking, that tired look under his eyes. Her gaze fluttered up to the heavens and a gasp left her mouth when she saw the lights that seemed to dance across the sky in dazzling spectrums of greens, blues, whites and reds. The light gave a stunning backdrop to the king as his captivating red gaze looked hurriedly at the queen who was gazing at him with a look of love, a blush hit his face and the darker atmosphere he thanked for concealing it.

"What?" He asked.

"Look." She responded and pointed up to those twirling lights that pirouetted across the inky darkness to the starry sky. The king followed her gesture and, for a moment, became captivated in the light's glow as well, but he regained his composure.

"So? They’re just the ancestor lights, we've seen them before." His shrug was half hearted, as he tried not to stare in total rapture at the way the reflection of such a heavenly glow danced in the urethral gaze of the queen.

"Yeah, but never just with you and never this close. It's incredible." She cupped her hand in his and smiled up at him, he looked away embarrassed but returned the gentle squeeze she gave to his hand.

"Yeah....I guess they are." She began walking again, this time with her husband in tow as they made way across the hills to their final destination which lay close beyond. The king understood so much about the world he has ruled for multiple millennia, but he never understood its pure beauty in the simplicity of such small things, the lights for example until they passed through her gaze. Until she stared at the spider web, until she spoke about herbs and weeds as though they were jewels, until she said his name. All he thought were important but never beautiful, until her. In that moment, on that star scattered sky and dusk covered hills, he wished to fly high into the lights above and dance with her, but he knew that fantasy would need to be patient as the low melody of song began to float around the tree line they entered.

Paper lanterns arched between poles dug into the ground, their soft lights glowed in the night as the shapes cut into them cast animal-like shadows on the trees. The blond king glared at the lanterns, seeing the ancestral lights above and thought they provided better illumination to the surrounding wind than the human contraption. His mind shifted to focus on another new scene, the scent of a dozen strange foods flooded the king's senses and his eyes fluttered to his queen who was practically drooling, her nose up taking in all the food. She met his eyes and their glow glimmered with such excitement that he felt his chest become light and a smile broke his normal scowl. She quickly gripped his hand and tugged him through the crowds, naming off foods and pointing out traditional significances all while expertly navigating the hordes of townsfolk who murmured incessantly.

The king's ears pricked at the mention of his queen's name, the source far off to his right and in a hushed tone, but being in a village full of those who did not speak any known language to him made him hyper aware. His ruby glare hardened ten fold at the small band of women who were bunched off to the side of the crowd, all their eyes trained on him and (y/n). Her name was said again and the king let a powerful growl towards the group and they turned red and broke apart. Once he noticed his wife’s soft hand not in his, the king began to frantically push others from his path, his broad stature and strange dress of beads, cloak, and loose pants and hide boots made him stand out which earned him questioning glances. He heard his name but the words after he did not comprehend. His ears tuned into her sweet melodious voice, but the language that made her words was incomprehensible to him, yet he continued to make his way to her. He broke through the crowd and saw her hair shining, her smile bright as she began to harmonize a song with a few others, her hands held multiple bundles of food on sticks. He growled, letting her know of his presence and wanting for her at his side and her eyes snapped to see him. With a knowing look she seemed to bid farewell to the group and joined him, making sure to rub against his bare side in an ancient dragon greeting for lovers.

"Try this! I know you'll love it." She glowed and her feet rocked from the heel to ball as that shimmer of her fluorescent eye color danced in that special way he adored. The king looked at the food and then to her, the scent foreign but not unpleasant as the steam gently swirled into the night's cool touch. She clasped his hand which held the food gently and took her own bite, her soft approving groans enticing the king into taking his own hesitant morsel. A smoky, juicy taste coated his tongue, the wave of pleasurable taste did make him give an almost inaudible growl and he aggressively ate the rest, his queen was beautifully happy with his accepting nature.

"What is this?" He asked, his tongue passing over his fangs as his lover smiled wide at his approval. The soft mutterings of the crowd were all in a language he couldn't understand and the unfamiliar land made his apprehension grow, but her presence settled his aggression if only a fraction, and so he trained his attention on her to quell his anxiety.

"It's called..ah well..what would it be in dragon tongue?" Her brows furrowed as the king took the next portion of food and began to eat, a new taste of fresh tange hit his taste buds. She gave a small laugh before a humorous glint flashed in her gaze.

"The King's Boar." Katsuki's chest puffed slightly before he gripped her waist and offered her some of the food with his signature devilish smile. One member of the crowd bumped into the queen, making her flinch back and stumble, effectively ruining their playful moment. The king immediately turned angered and his red glare followed the random passer by, but her small tug stopped him and he stilled.

"Come on. I'll find us a seat somewhere quiet."

As the crowds began to disperse with full bellies, a roaring fire was fueled and rose high into the sky, many gathered close to the flames for warmth but the two dragon kin hadn't the need. The two sat close on a portion of plush festival blankets and chatted calmly about the traditions of the festival, the female royal had basically fed the king until he could not eat anymore and with his voracious appetite it was a wonder how the festival didn't run out of food. Her excited rambles on the multiple other types of food and traditions was silenced when her name was called from somewhere in the crowd. She stood and shook her head as did the violet haired male who approached her, a strange greeting Katsuki surmised. Katsuki stiffened at the sudden appearance of another male, his dragon kin blood made him extremely territorial so he couldn't help the growl that passed over his fangs. That same unfamiliar language made their conversation unknown and his anger grew twice as much, his wife and this strange new comer approached his sitting position, the king spread his legs and looked down his nose. A symbolic way to show dominance in the dragon kingdom, his wife reframed from trailing her eyes over him as she spoke. His name was said and the redhead gestured to him, his glare doubled as the violet haired man looked at him with curiosity, his gaze matching his hair's coloration.

"My love, this is Shinsou, he's a friend of mine from when I stayed here. He and I grew up before I left and found you." The powerful and intimidating king rose up and made himself look bigger, his arms and chest flexing and assertive grumbles left his jaws. His mate rubbed his arm and he stilled and stopped his dominantly assertive growls. Shinsou says something in that unknown language and then looks to the dragon kin.

"Nice to meet you bitch." Katsuki's eyes became hot flames and his fangs bared, his roars echoed, but he stopped once his queen placed a palm to his chest.

"He meant to say sir! He meant to say sir! He doesn't know dragon tongue that well." Katsuki pulled back, his hand tightly grabbing the woman's hand. The king glared but puffed dismissively, his gaze not losing its intensity and anger as the violet haired Shinsou looked down apologetically. With a roll of his eyes and an outstretch of his hand, the king waited. When nothing happened, the king glared again, but (y/n) calmly explained.

"He doesn't know our costumes dear, just as you don't know his." She turns to Shinsou and says something and his violet eyes look to the king then to his open plam, the other male balls a fist and puts it in his hand. Katsuki growls, claws threatening to slice Shinsou's knuckles. The women stepped in the middle and spoke softly to Shinsou then looked at the male ruler.

"I'm showing him what to do, he only wants to make a good impression.." She brushed her finger tips over his and slid her hand up to his forearm, automatically the king gripped her forearm and so did she to his, then he gripped the back of her neck and pressed their foreheads together, a soft rumble came from the two of them as a affirmative way to show their support.

She looks expectantly at Shinsou and says something that makes him give a nervous laugh, he steps forward. Katsuki opens his palm and Shinsou sloppily mimics the movements to show apology in the ways of the dragon, Katsuki accepts but steps faraway from the male.

"Sorry." The dragon tongue left Shinsou's mouth and Katsuki simply nodded. (Y/N) breathed a small sigh of relief before speaking to Shinsou again and they began speaking excessively about something.

"Wife, what is he saying." The way Katsuki growled "wife" in such a deep possessive way made an icy shiver sprint up the queen's spine and she looked back with hazy eyes that glinted with a new lust. Such an immediate shift in her body language made the king smirk with pride for having caused it.

"He's asking about how we met, what has life been like away from the village, where did I go before meeting you." Katsuki growled and looked away, arms crossed and gaze agitated. (Y/n) sighed and spoke to Shinsou again.

"Me hope you like festival." The broken dragon tongue made Katsuki look at a nervous Shinsou. His attempt of speaking was admirable, and once the king saw the pleading look in his queen's eyes he rolled his and held up his wrist. Shinsou smacked his wrist to the king's, a quintessential tradition between two equals in the dragon world, this such knowledge Shinsou held surprised the ruler of the kingdom of fire and scales.

"Looks like you're not completely stupid." The queen growled in warning and the king rolled his eyes again, but smacked his wrist to Shinsou's again, the ancient way of showing greeting seemed to bridge the two foreigners. Shinsou spoke to (y/n) and she turned red, pushing the violet haired guy away and frantically muttered something to him.

"What?" It was more of a threat than a question caused by the king and he came to her side instantaneously.

"He asked me if I was going to dance and I said no." A confused pinch of the king's brows brought a smile to the woman's face and she gently wrapped her hands around Katsuki's arm, he withheld the notion to flex.

"During the festival, people dance around the fire and if someone joins your dance then they are interested in you, if they match your rhythm and you like them then they can court you. It's all very traditional, something I lost interest in." She waved her hand dismissively. Katsuki growled and looked threatening at Shinsou who didn't understand the sudden threatening aura surrounding the king.

"Of course I'm already yours so I wouldn't need anyone else, but Shinsou just isn't familiar with dragon customs."

"Then teach him." The king spat through clenched teeth, the anger was not directed at the queen but more rather the violet man. The queen huffed, sudden displeasure hit her nerves and she untangled herself from Katsuki, much to his displeasure. She stepped away and muttered something to Shinsou in their common tongue. Her gaze went back to Katsuki and as she spoke it became angered.

"Then I will. We will be back later once the festival dies down." Katsuki lunged to grab her wrist, his eyes raged but behind those flames was a powerful worry. Not knowing what to say, Katsuki opted to press his forehead to her’s a way of silently communicating his worry and fear over her safety and she sighed.

"I know all this is overwhelming for you, and on top of not knowing what anyone is saying, I suddenly want to go off bu-" Katsuki could see her losing that happy glow around her, as her eyes dulled at his actions towards the festival. The king of all dragons, ruler of all scaled kind, understood that his own ego and discomfort did not trump her enjoyment, and so he cut off her apologies.

"But that doesn't mean I should make this worse for you. I promised to go with you and enjoy myself, that's what I'm going to do. Go have fun and save a dance for me, ok?" Her smile made the stars jealous as it shone so bright. A loving kiss was pressed into Katsuki's lips as she hooked her arm over his neck and pulled him down. She pulled away, her warmth leaving to, and waved back as she stepped into the crowd with Shinsou.

To say the sight of Katsuki the dragon king was not captivating would be an understatement. His broad shoulders, muscles and toned body, and cherry glowing eyes was transfixing. He sat on a high backed seat in the auditorium surrounding the "Great Blaze" or the fire lit to commence the festival, the name he learned from close observation of the other people. He found it funny how mortals worshipped fire as a god, since his own kind were the creators of such, but no matter. The song filling the air was not unpleasant and the food (y/n) filled his stomach was taking the edge off his temper, her scent was cemented in the clock he wore so when he needed her comfort he buried his nose into the fur around the collar. Katsuki was actually finding himself enjoying the evening, and in his heart he knew (y/n) was having fun as a smile graced his face.

Then a touch to his bare shoulder and the pungent reek of sour perfume flooded his nose, his happy warmth was replaced with sudden cold hostility.

"So this is the great King Bakugou. You surely surpass the legends, they do you no justice." A sweet but conniving tone of a woman pierced his ear, the dragon tongue surprising to him. He glared at the face of a black haired and brown eyed woman who's cleavage was practically popping from the thin lace lining of her dress as she leaned over the king.

"And how would you know my language?" The sentence is barely understood through his growls and snarls, but the women flashed a smile so twisted it made the king's stomach curl. She climbs onto his lap, legs straddling him and hips automatically rolling into his. He did nothing but glare, her attempts at riling him up failing miserably as her intimate movements did nothing to the king.

"Let's just day I've been in close contact with some of the rogue dragons you've been trying to deal with." She bites his neck and quickly sucks, surprising the king. The angered ruler pushed her off him, her ass hitting the ground hard and he straightened up to look down on her menacingly, but her eyes seemed to hold lust rather than fear as her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"Your majesty. Please allow me to properly service you." She crawled between his knees, her head pressed onto one knee and her hands slowly moving from his ankles to his thighs. He gripped her chin, hoisted her up to be face to face with him and snarled, her eyes glowing with desire.

"Listen here whore, there is only one woman throughout the span of time that gets me and you're sure as hell not even a fraction like her. Now get the fuck away from me." He threw her away again and this time her clouded eyes turned from lust to anger and she spit on the ground near his feet and stormed off. The king wiped her saliva from his neck and felt the growing purple bruise forming, dread and fear mixing in his chest at the realization that his wife would soon see what the whore had done. He went off to find her, his nerves shot and a feeling of impurity and betrayal corroded his cool demeanor.

The prancing royal woman was practically bouncing as she and her childhood companion caught up on their current lives.

"So once I completed the final ritual I was turned into dragon kin, Katsuki and I wed and we became rulers." Shinsou nodded while downing his bubbling drink, the two were lounging next to a beverage stand. The violet eyed man marveled at his old friend who he noted had grown so much from those days of using twigs as swords and exploring the lakes and streams outside the village.

"You really have changed (y/n)." Shinsou laughed but (y/n) grew confused and furrowed her brows, her orange beverage sweet and spicy on her tongue, the spice burning her throat.

"What do you mean?" The two met eyes and he paused, his answer being woven and tossed around in his mind.

"You're just..different from the last time I saw you. I just never imagined you'd become what you are now." That statement made the queen's grip tighten, her back stiffened and her eyes became sharp.

"Well ten years can surely change people Shinsou. I never envisioned you to be a wandering researcher that hasn't gotten out of town yet." She didn't mean for her words to be so cruel, but the hurt in his eyes made her guilt twist her gut painfully.

"Shinsou Im-"

"Well if it isn't the town's flower. It's been a long time(y/n)." A sultry voice cut into the conversation as a man approached with piercing blue eyes and brown hair, his sharp jaw held a sadistic smirk. Shinsou, distraught and downplayed, excused himself, much to (y/n)’s displeasure. The man before her towered over her height, his large palms cupped his hips.

"It's been a while Marcus. How've you been?" Marcus nodded, his gaze following Shinsou before looking back to the women. His demeanor became cocky, and pompous as he swayed over to be closer to her, her personal bubble dangerously close to being popped.

"Nothing much, traveled a bit, but nothing like you. If the town gossip is reliable then it's true that you became dragon kin? That you married their ruler? Get real." (Y/n) almost snarled but recomposed herself beforehand. With a clench of her jaw and shift of her gaze, she begrudgingly answered.

"It's not like you've been in close contact for the past ten years. You wouldn't know a thing that happened to me, I'm not that naive idiot anymore." The blue gaze traveled across her body as the man circled her, like a predator to prey.

"That's right. You're not that child anymore, you're a woman and a beautiful one at that." Marcus growled and stepped closer, (y/n) stepped back, Marcus's whisper made bile rise in her throat. She moved away, he followed. This continued until the buff male cornered the queen against the backboards of one of the food stalls, his arm resting above her head as her back pressed tightly against the wooden boards.

"You're so cute when you tense up." (Y/n) held back her body's shaking and tried to push Marcus away, he only grabbed her wrist and pulled it above her head, pinning it in his grip. Marcus's gaze grew hungry as he pressed his nose to her's, drawing in her scent and licking his lips.

"God you're so addicting, like a delicious delicacy I want to feast on." (Y/n) tried to swiftly kick Marcus between his legs, but his hand dug bruises into her thigh as he pulled it up to forcibly, painfully wrapping it around his hip. His growing erection pressed disgustingly against (y/n)’s inner thigh. She pleaded for Katsuki to sense her fear, but not even a scream came from her throat. Marcus dipped a hand to grasp her butt, the mighty queen felt as tiny as a flea in this moment, her pride and power being beheaded as Marcus continued to move his hands. The final straw was when he bit hard onto the junction of her neck and shoulder, in the exact spot her bonding mark to Katsuki scarred her skin. She screamed his name for help, but Marcus stuffed three fingers in her mouth, silencing her and making her gag.

"Shut the hell up, or I'll make you mute." A single tear rolled down her pale cheek and he laughed, he had the audacity to lick it away.

"I did so love to hear you scream though, it gets me so excited." Suddenly a mighty crash cracked the wooden boards above (y/n)’s head, a figure, broad soldered and blade drawn hurtling through the flying splinters and mental latches towards Marcus. His eyes were a lit with the fires of hell themselves

"Then you'll fucking love me!" Katsuki screamed a bone chilling sound, as his chest heaved and his jaws drooled with anger. He stood posed to kill in front of his wife who trembled with relief at the sight of her love. Katsuki's eyes were pin pricks of a boiling blood color that had the power to split Marcus in two, the brunette staggered to stand before Katsuki crushed his ribs with one kick to his chest. The king straddled the man, his face inches from Marcus's and his clawed hand painfully pushed the brunette's head into the soil.

"Don't you ever touch my queen again!" The dragon king plunged his blade into the brunette's hands, blood pooling and splattering over the brown soil, Marcus's scream was muffled by the earth.

"And don't you fucking think about putting you're fucking ugly mouth on her either." The blade, serrated and made of olden dragon teeth, was placed inside Marcus's mouth, sliced the portion of the bloodied man's cheek that connected to his mouth, and Marcus screamed again. The blond, pumped up on anger and adrenaline, licks the bloodied blade and spits the mixture of spit and blood onto Marcus who is writhing while clutching his face and hands.

Turning back, Katsuki sees (y/n), huddled and holding tears back on the ground. He rushes to her side, wrapping his cloak around her and holding her head close to his chest, softly whispering soothing words. Her breathing evened out as he wiped her tears away and put loving kisses on her face. With a mighty battle cry, the queen lunches at the wounded Marcus and struck his jaw with a teeth breaking kick, his tooth flying through the air and landing in a muddy puddle. Katsuki quickly scooped her up in his arms, covering her face from prying eyes with his cloak and steadily walking out of the shadows where a small group had gathered upon hearing the scouting and seeing the now collapsed stall Katsuki broke through.

"That mess of a man assaulted my love. Deal with him, and we'll be heading home."

As his boot steps made imprints in the grass, the crowd parted like a tiger moving through weeds, their eyes never leaving the dragon king until the lantern's light was at the king's back. Rapid feet beating against the hills made Katsuki tighten his arms around his lover and whip his head around to glare, but it was only Shinsou running to the two dragon kin.

"(Y/n)...is she...good?" He panted out that broken dragon language while clutching his knees, his chest rising as the cool wilderness seemed to welcome the two dragon kin more and more.

"She's fine." Katsuki growled, but (y/n)’s hair peeled out from the cloak to see Shinsou, the wind licking her tear smeared face, and the trees swayed gently. Her soft voice sounded tired but her words, unknown to Katsuki, seemed to reassure Shinsou. They exchanged a few sentences before the violet man approached, slowly for Katsuki was in a state of protection over his love but (y/n)’s hand pressed into his chest and he allowed Shinsou to approach. The two, (y/n) and Shinsou, locked fingers and muttered something low before the violet man backed away.

"Let's go home Katsu. All I want is to just curl up in our bed with you and sleep." Katsuki rubbed his cheek against her head, the sweet decent soothing his more ferocious side as he sighed.

"I'm so sorry my love, you were so excited about the festival and I-" His entire being froze when he felt her hands press into the bruise the women left on him from not that long ago. Her body became rigid and she looked up at him with her own terrifying gaze.

"Katsuki, what is this?" He put her down gently, the clock she wore fluttering in the night breeze and he silently cursed the women for smudging her noxious perfume over him.

"Some whore unwantedly tried to seduce me. This is her attempt at a hicky, but the painful shove she revived taught her to fuck off." (Y/n)’s previous sad demeanor shattered, a red rage clouded her eyes and Katsuki saw the way her hands balled into fists.

“She what? This whole fucking night has been a disaster! Dammit, Katsuki I’m so sorry. Let’s-let’s just go home.” As quickly as it left, (y/n)’s rage returned and she ran her hands through her hair to try and soothe her temperament. Katsuki sighed, the dancing lights above the two glowed welcome ugly and seemed to share an idea with the great blond ruler. He scooped her hand into his larger calloused one, her gaze moving to him in confusion but he simply smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“You promised me a dance, (y/n).” He stated it as a fact and a sniffle escaped the queen as she let him begin to sway. Their feet moved expertly in time with the other’s, their movements fluid as Katsuki spun his wife around the rolling hills of soft grasses and illuminated star light. She giggled when he dipped her and twirled when he gently took her hand. His hands smoothed over the small of her back as her’s cupped the sides of his jaw to give him a sweet prolonged kiss, their smiles broke the sweet gesture after a moment of revelry in their touches. They stayed that way, intertwined in both bodies and hearts as the festival's noises drifted out of their realm of focus. The world became quite once more as Katsuki and (y/n) forgot their sorrows in the greatest why they knew possible, each other and they danced along with the night while the stars above gave them light

#my work #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #fluff #this was a bitch to write cause my computer and phone kept crashing #i want to start oosting longer more detailed pieces cause i have a lot #fantasykatsukibakugou #dragonkingbakugou

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universe-inside-of-your-heart · 5 years

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GAME OVER but CNC

((-John Cena voice- ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT? tw for violence and violent bone breaking just in case because blood is one thing, but this is a little more gruesome than I usually write.))

What was supposed to be a celebration of unity and harmony became nothing more than a bloodbath. Royals, nobility, magic users, all were shown to be very much human no matter where they stood in society, with all the bodies laying around. Some were already dead, having been crushed, impaled, or other manners of a painful death. Others were barely hanging on, stirring and fading in and out of conciousness, unsure of where they were. A meager few were writhing in pain and unsure of if they would die or not, but wished it with how contorted their flesh and limbs had become from being tossed around, broken limbs and open gashes pouring dark red liquid onto the pristine golden-colored marble.

A large clawed hand had pinned the Princess of Moonrose against the castle walls, nails digging into the stone as easily as if it were metal piercing wood. Her hands gripped at the large feathered arm, staff thrown to the other side of the room and the orb shattered. She was nearly hanging by her neck, desperate gasps of air leaving her mouth as she stared into the many eyes of Greed, now Terminus or “Virus”.

“Poor little princess...” he cooed in a taunting manner. "̛Wanted so badly to help her friends and bring everyone together,only ͞to have the b̵iģ,͜ e̡v̶il ҉dra͠gon ̷come aņd ruin her ball.” His sadistic grin widened, sharpened teeth in a menacing row only highlighted more by the thorny red vines that came from his Aja crown. “You should have taken my offer of non-violence in exchange for your lands when you had a chance. ͘Now look at what’s happened; this all could have been avoided you know~”

“...G...Go to hell, you wretched beast...!” she struggled out, nails digging into the skin under his feathered coat. Virus simply laughed at her retort, moving his face only inches from her struggling expression.

"You really are a fool to think this unity would've lasted in the first place with the bloody history of this land. Even now, King Jonathan is begging for me to stop and calling out for you and his little friends.I̷t's͏ ̛funny co͞ns̡íde͡ŗing̨ ̴t͡ḩi͠s͏ i̡s all your ̷f̶aul͞t̡.͞"

“Enough of your talk, you cur---!”

“If you had left everyone alone, kept to your kingdom, and let them go on without any of this peace nonsense, no one would have come here and they would have been spared. Now look, they͡'r̢e al̷l b͡l͡eeding͟ out̶ ͝o҉n̵ t͝h͝è f̴l̨o͘o̧r̸,͝ and͠ if ̧th̀ey'̧r̨e ̛n͟oţ de̛ąd̵ ̴yet, th͡ey̵ wil̨l̀ ͏b͡e ve̡ry̷ s͠o͝o̧n. A͜l҉l be̶ca͏u҉s̵e of ͜y̢ǫu a͞nd͏ you͏r̸ ͝plan̢s ̵f̧ǫŗ th̢i͠s pi͠ec͞e̴ o̡f scr͠a͜p ͝y̛o̶u̶ c̢áĺl ą t̕reat̛y.”

“SILENCE YOU---!” Princess Masumi’s eyes had already teared up from her attempts to get more air and writhe out of his grip, but now his words only added to it.

“You should see the look of despair on your face. I want to remember this for as long as I live. The proud Princess of Moonrose...s͘t͞ru͘gg̨li͞ng, wèákeņed,̀ an̛d̵ ̸cry̷i̷ng l͘i̵ke ̨a ͘c͡hild̸. That’s all you are in the end, isn’t it? A little girl who should have minded her own business and allowed the adults to deal with royal affairs.”

His grip tightened, claws out of the walls and digging into the back of her neck as struggled, wet noises of air escaped the princess’ throat. The horns on his head made for a demonic halo, the light from the ballroom chandelier making a sickening glow around his head.

“I’ll admit, you were much more entertaining than other royalty I’ve faced in the past, defying me like this for so long,” he hissed, entertained at the blue hue her face began to take. “But, like children who easily throw aside what bores them, you’ve become more of an annoyance than entertainment. You gave me a fight unlike the others, however, so allow me to repay you for keeping me amused...”

His grip tightened even more, the claws breaking skin and the tips digging into to muscle underneath. Her mouth opened as if to cry out in pain, but his strong grasp kept it and her airways closed. Everything was getting dark, the sound of rushing blood in her ears as her body struggled to keep her alive--

C R A C K

The sickening sound of torn flesh and snapping bone cut through the air. The princess hung lifeless in his hand so suddenly, eyes rolled into the back of her head from the shock and the pain, a few stray tears still dropping from her eyes and a stray trail of blood dripped from her mouth. The princess’ head had rolled to the side in an almost disgusting manner, no more support to hold it up as his hold had shattered her neck. The silence was deafening aside from the gargled gasps of those just barely hanging on.

Virus began to laugh, building into a beastial crescendo, and continued as he tossed her aside into a group of familiar figures on the floor who were once the friends she had made, flopping limply against them like a ragdoll with a revolting thud. The shine in her eyes was gone, only voids where the blue was once shining with justice. With no others standing in his way, he was free to become the god he wanted to be all along.

The Reign of Virus was nigh, and soon others such as Envy and Wrath would have no resistance taking their place as well.

#Castles & Castes #castlesandcastesevent #kind of????#CNC Masu: Bad End #Anonymous

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tridentsking-blog · 5 years

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Look who has returned home; it’s ROMAN BLOODY TULACH, a 47 year old Captain on The Black Trident. He has been described as enrapturing and machiavellian. He has been tasked with watching over Lola Gutierrez.

//**ROMAN IS HERE AND HE IS AMAZING I AM SO EXCITED

the basics about this truly twisted man: his full name is roman alastair tulach, he is 47 years old, a pansexual and panromantic casanova often with incredibly sinister intent hidden beneath a near-irresistible charming smile and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that brings forth immense fascination from those fortunate (and others unfortunate) enough for the pirate to grace them with his presence.

truly a man who needs no introduction, roman tulach started his career to become a marauding legend as a young man. he spent the next decades using such smart tactics and wisdom that one could suspect that he had meticulously wicked plans before he even considered the opportunity of piracy.

now, his name is infamously known across every single country, ocean and sea that his influence can reach; while he is best known both his ship and his own actions, most agree that his greatest accomplishment was establishing his dominion over the waters of the world. it wasn’t long before stories spread, those who had grown to fear him as inhuman painting him as poseidon incarnate. he is the monster parents tell their children of before bedtime, a deadly threat each day for those who work on the docks across europe, and, with what seemed like delight, roman learned he is bizarrely thought to be the real-life version of the boogeyman to some. even for those who prefer to stay on land, an icy chill can run down the spine upon hearing his name uttered aloud. the horror stories shared about his merciless behaviour have often served as campfire tales for people looking for a scare, and conversely as a conversation piece for roman, finding himself recounting the tales with a smugness to his words.

while it is clear now that he is a man who would laugh in the face of death, his life had not always been one of such... grand schemes, or one of luxury. with parents who had never been... all that attentive or loving toward their son, nor toward his siblings, they had grown up in poor conditions with little money to get by and hardly enough food to fill all hungry bellies.

having grown up in ireland at the time, as he became older and more aware of the world surrounding him, roman started to notice things that others might have simply accepted. while he and his family lived in squalor, the monarchy of ireland, the monarchies of all the countries he had learned of, lived extremely expensive lives without care for their people who had been born poor, lived poor and died poor. he began to see through the veil of flowery words that monarchs spoke in an effort to bring hope to the lowest of the lower classes, and soon developed an extreme distaste for the concept of an absolute monarchy altogether. the idea that the capability to run a country was somehow found in the veins of people who grew up never truly understanding the kingdom they would eventually rule over was abhorrent to him, and as conditions only seemed to worsen, roman, at the young age of fourteen, decided it was time take matters into his own hands.

turning to petty crimes in his early teens, he began to steal. first, what his family needed to survive. which then became what his family wanted. and finally, he found himself taking whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. but his reputation had begun to reach the ears of law enforcement and he knew that if he continued to stay, he would face jail time for his newfound hobby. pirate ships frequented the docks near his home city, cork, and roman knew that all too well when he made the decision to gather his belongs and head down there. after some bargaining and bribing he was allowed aboard one of those vessels, the furies’ retribution as a cabin boy. and it was on the ship that roman tulach began his career as a fully-fledged pirate.

he very quickly learned what life on a pirate ship was truly like, but unlike others who might have had second thoughts once they landed and began to raid seaside towns, roman never gave a hint of emotion, either positive or negative, toward their violet thefts. he would later recall that he felt a certain rush and thrill during his first raids with the crew. though the youngest member aboard the ship, he soon became the person to test the limits of such crimes and it became eerily clear that roman had come to enjoy these acts. soon he became quite adept in the crows nest, high atop the mast of the ship, using spyglasses and digital cameras with extensive zoom lens to find vulnerable places to pillage. from there, he taught himself how to pick out which houses would be stocked with more expensive items in order to increase the crew’s gains. this, and the fact that he never seemed to back down from a fight led to roman becoming an extremely valuable member aboard the ship. from then on, the crew experienced extremely good fortune, each person received more than enough money to satisfy their needs in life and then some. an undeniable high point in his life, roman still had yet to reach the greatness and infamy he has since now earned.

and while the curious tale of the pirate himself is compelling on it’s own due to either recounts becoming so warped that they no longer resembled the true events he experienced, and also thanks to roman himself, who likes to embellish when he does talk of his younger times as a pirate.

the origins of his ship, the dreaded black trident however, is undoubtedly the most notorious story told about roman tulach and his crew. some saw that it was a ghost ship and roman had unlocked the secret to evaded Death himself. others suspected him of having sold his soul to the devil for untold fortune and fame, and even more still suspect that he is in fact Death, sailing across the ocean to guide the souls of the dead toward the afterlife-- or in some cases, Hell.

however, a recount of the story with roots in reality begins as follows: the notorious gang of pirates that had sailed aboard the furies’ retribution drifted into the harbour of a northern portuguese harbour with wounded aboard and the ship itself nearly torn to pieces-- whispers travelled around that it was the aftermath of a sea battle with a royal naval ship. attempts were made to repair the furies’ retribution, but due to the enormous damage it had sustained, it was a miracle that it was still floating. not only that, but the crew had lost their captain to the gun fire during the skirmish. now without a leader or a ship, the pirates had accepted the loss as a sign to give up, turning to petty crimes to fund their lives, and left the crew for good. but roman seemed not at all worried for his future, and it was clear that the man had much more ambitious plans than just picking pockets to get by.

after a night of heavy drinking those who still remained of the once ruthless crew awoke much later usual and headed to the docks in search of friendly allies or mercenaries that might be willing to hire the rag-tag team. to their surprise, they found roman on the docks and their ruined ship gone. the young man was aiding in loading supplies onto a very distinguished looking and very new ship. when one asked, a worker mentioned that the furies’ retribution had caught on fight during the night, causing it to sink in the middle of the small calm harbour. and as for the ship they had been filling, they called it os fogos da justiça; or the fires of justice, a ship that had been constructed some few months earlier, rumoured to be the request of the portuguese king. if truly commissioned by him, it was meant to deliver supplies to his private island in the warm waters of the mediterranean sea. while some of the group were not exactly the sharpest crayons in the box, they still had questions-- positively baffled that roman tulach, clearly a dedicated pirate and an outspoken anti-monarchist, seemed to be helping workers with labour that would only serve to help a royal, rather than taking those much sought after and valuable supplies for himself. something was very clearly off about the situation, but they could not yet see roman’s intentions for what they truly were.

what had seemed to be an act of from the depths of a good heart turned into a living nightmare when the last crate was placed aboard. it happened rather suddenly. without warning, roman pulled a knife and slit the throat of one of the workers as he descended down the ramp off of the ship; he didn’t even have the chance to scream. he did not flinch as screams began to ring out and the pirates, who had seen roman’s quick wit and critical thinking while working together, realised that roman had never helping these people at all-- he had been preparing to steal this onyx giant for himself. along with that knowledge, they knew that to follow him was a wise decision, and that this ship was a way out of life upon only land. springing into action, they began to climb aboard their newly claimed property, cutting down any and all that attempted to stop them.

what they left behind was nothing short of a bloodbath, the docks stained with the blood of many who had attempted to be noble and prevent the theft. some tales which break into the fantastic claim that the stained blood can still be seen today on that very same pier, growing from a brown colour to a much brighter red upon the anniversary of the killings.

breaking in their new ship, the pirates boldly raided a small gathering of houses just ten miles away from the harbour, and while in the past they had let those they had stolen from live, this time there were no survivors. the last man alive, one who had hidden while the pirates had collected everything of value from the houses was eventually found and brought onto the deck of the new ship, face to face with the newly instated captain: roman tulach. deciding he wanted to play a little game with the survivor, he asked the man how badly he wanted to live. but in reply, the man did not beg or plead. instead, he said, with overwhelming calmness: “our king will hunt you down. you will hang for your crimes.” again, roman asked the question-- but again, received the same response.

anger overtook the pirate, and instead of simply killing the man with a gun, or a knife, roman paced up and down the deck, trying to counter what the man kept repeat. and then his eyes fell upon the bow of the ship, where a decorative sculpture of poseidon held a trident made of a black metal. while it had only been meant as piece of art, in sliding it out of the grasp of the god he realised that the ‘art’ was exceedingly sharp. a crooked grin painted roman tulach’s face as he turned back toward the man, hopping back down and marching forward before roughly plunging the trident into his chest, killing him almost instantly. the man’s body was tossed overboard, but instead of replacing the trident to it’s original space, roman weighed it in his hands and knew that this ship would not be know as the fires of justice. it is unclear what exactly prompted roman to take the trident from it’s statue, nor why it could be removed in the first place. what was most important, though, was that from then and forevermore, roman tulach captained the black trident. a ship that he allegedly vowed would forever be a black stain on the history of monarchs who had attempted to snuff out piracy from the world.

what followed the maiden voyage of the black trident around europe were some of the most brutal pillaging, killings and destructive instances in recent history-- and the mastermind behind each and every scheme was the man himself, already having become part of some countries’ folklore, roman tulach. he has committed some of the most heinous crimes imaginable, all for the sake of his ultimate goal: true freedom. however, no one truly knows what that means for the captain, as he often delights in social manipulation, and toying with the minds of others.

while there is clearly a volatile part to his psyche, roman tulach is also known to be quite the womanizer-- though he also shares the company of men and others in just the same way as with women. a result of some of these love affairs left roman with children. isabella, born to luciana masters and miles, dylan and emerson tulach, born to monique d’alessio. no one knows truly to what extent he is capable of loving his children to the public-- and the next logical question is whether or not those who mothered his children were ever shown love either. of course, only fuelling the rumour that he was inhuman, roman never spoke enough on emotions toward his family or lovers. his private life was precisely that: private. at the very least, he had enough trust in his children to assign them ships, and areas of the world to take in the tulach name. two other family members, his brother and an extended family member were also given the privilege of captain ships to maintain his grasp on the world of piracy. once they gained control over the majority of the world’s oceanic territory, it was thought that roman would stop there, having proved that a man with nothing could grow up to be their own king. and rule over the oceans and seas he did-- until a new law was passed. one that targeted pirates. specifically tulach pirates.

roman was known to have fits of rage in times of extreme danger-- when his former lover was hanged and he learned that belle had been with her, the man’s fury nearly took the life of a allied pirate, roman being so blinded by rage at the potential loss of his eldest child that he began strangling the man closest to him at the time he discovered the news. however, when this law was passed, a law that called for the execution of all tulachs and the pirates affiliated with them upon arrest, the self proclaimed pirate king fell dangerously silent, and immediately demanded that those who were accompanying him in his office leave his presence at once. the legacy and family that the man had built over two decades was being threatened, and challenged.

it was that very same day roman tulach took the early steps of thought into his grand retaliation plot. after a week of deep and rarely uninterrupted thought, he gathered his six lieutenants for another full week on his island to devise the perfect revenge, a way to hold advantageous influence over monarchs all over the world, and guarantee that the headhunt for the tulachs would cease, all in total secrecy.

needless to say, he has been very pleased with the results his plan has yielded.

a few personality traits that describe roman: enrapturing, machiavellian, resourceful, ambitious, manipulative, perceptive, calculating, meticulous, laodicean, phlegmatic, highbrowed, bittersweet, draconian, frightening, destructive, wicked, domineering, deceptive, charismatic, silver-tongued, persuasive, learned, vulpine, scholarly, intellectual.

possible connections: EVERYTHING PLEASE, GIVE ME ALL SORTS OF CONNECTIONS FOR MY EVIL MAN I LOVE HIM.

#trident;intro #th: intro #th: the pirate king #th: there's an albatross around your neck #//** i'm so happy with this introduction but GOD #//** IT TOOK #//** SO LONG

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master-sass-blast · 5 years

Text

Strong as Stone --Part Thirty-Eight.

WELL HELLO!

Last time, we saw part one of Infinity Wars, as retold by me. This time, we’re diving into part two!

(Side note: I know most of the details aren’t going to be accurate to the movie. I don’t care. Don’t @ me.)

Pairings: Okoye x M’Baku.

Rating: T for language and depictions of death/injuries.

@skysynclair19, @the-last-hair-bender

Failure is inevitable. No matter how hard you try, you will be faced with it at some point in your lives.

There is no shame in failing, my dears. It only means you are human.

Three days later, they got the alert.

Several extraterrestrial crafts appeared above Earth, orbiting above the planet as several smaller vessels were released towards the planet.

Target destination based on trajectory: Wakanda.

“They’ll track the Infinity Stones,” T’Challa wagered as he looked at the alert from one of Shuri’s satellites. “Order everyone to head to the fallout shelters, and find us a location removed from any cities.”

Okoye sent out the signal to the Dora and Border Tribe army as Shuri began sending out alerts.

It was time.

She could see the black, diamond shape ships hurtling towards the ground, hear the sound of the crafts hitting the ground and digging in, feel the vibrations of the impacts even on the land-based hover crafts that were transporting the Avengers, Dora Milaje, and Border Tribe army out to the battlefield.

She closed her eyes, just for a moment. Bast, please save us.

M’Baku was already there, stirring his warriors up with the same war-cry he’d used two years ago when he’d challenged T’Challa at the falls. He clasped T’Challa’s shoulder as the King stepped to the front to assess the situation, then pulled Okoye against his side and kissed her deeply. “I love you.”

She swallowed hard and pressed her forehead against his chest. “And I love you.”

A sea of black creatures erupted from the invasion vessels, screaming madly as they sprinted towards the force field that separated them from Thanos’s army.

Most likely a first wave, if Gamora and Nebula’s reports about the sheer size of the army were to be believed.

Behind the fray stood four figures, three dressed in armor and one dressed in black robes. They were clearly alien as well, and gazed up the hill at them with an awareness that the writhing sea of black lacked.

“The rest of Thanos’s children,” Nebula spat out.

Always ‘Thanos’s children’ or ‘his other children.’ Never ‘siblings.’

It painted the tale of a tragically unhappy childhood --one that Okoye knew her own experiences couldn’t parallel.

“This is going to be the end of Wakanda,” M’Baku breathed as he gazed out at the army.

It very well may be. “Then it will be the noblest end in the world.”

She chanted along with the other Wakandan warriors as T’Challa let out an all too familiar battle cry. She smacked the end of her spear against the ground with the other Dora Milaje, steeling herself for the bloodbath that was about to come.

At T’Challa’s signal, Shuri dropped the shield holding the alien army back.

Okoye tightened her grip on the shaft of her spear and started running.

The field was a scene of total chaos. The smell of blood and death hung in the air, and pained screams from humans and aliens alike pounded in her ears.

Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving.

She shoved her spear through the chest of one of the aliens, then ripped it out and did the same to another before the first one even hit the ground.

She’d faced battles before, trained for countless fights, but she’d never envisioned anything like this.

Keep moving. Keep moving. Find your next target and keep moving.

She didn’t even have to turn her head. Dead ahead, right in her line of vision, the Black Widow and Wanda Maximoff were fighting the third of Thanos’s daughters.

She gripped her spear tighter, clenched her teeth together, and ran forward to join them.

She was pulling her spear out of the third daughter’s chest when Shuri’s voice crackled in her ear.

“Thanos is here with reinforcements! We need to regroup!”

Okoye looked up, and sure enough, Thanos was walking towards the field of battle, surrounded by a new massive wave of alien soldiers. “Everyone fall back to the top of the hill!” she shouted. “Snipers, air support, give us cover!”

She took off running with Romanoff and Maximoff, leaping over dead bodies and doing her best to keep from looking over her shoulder at every scream or blast. Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving.

Overhead, Tony, Rhodes, Sam, and Vision worked with Jhanvi’s drones to keep the new wave of aliens off their backs. The air smelled like smoke, from Sam and Rhode’s guns, from the drones’s, Tony’s, and Vision’s more specialized weapons...

Okoye pushed down the urge to choke on it and kept running. She was almost at the top of the hill anyway. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.

A hand gripped her by the upper arm --and M’Baku was there, hauling her up the last few feet of the hill.

Okoye sagged against him gratefully before forcing herself to turn and survey the scene.

They’d lost a lot of soldiers already; drones and men littered the field alike, actually.

And, too close for comfort was the new wave of alien soldiers, along with--

“What the fuck are those?” Djabi shouted.

Massive metal weapons moving on five spiked wheels hurtled across the ground towards them, ripping apart anything in their path.

Okoye’s eyes widened. “Oh fuck.”

Before anything else could happen, another Wakandan land cruiser sped up to the top of the hill.

Dewani hopped off, along with Adesina, Shuri, Izgebe, and a slew of Jabari archers. “Looks like we got here just in time!”

“What, in Hanuman’s name, are you doing here?” M’Baku shouted.

“Helping. Archers! To your positions!”

The archers spread out along the top of the hill with the remaining snipers.

“Dewani, what--”

“Not now! Roots ready!”

Each of the archers, Dewani, and Izgebe pulled out a cloth wrapped ball.

Is she really--

“Launch!”

Okoye could only watch as the little cloth balls flew through the air and hit the ground. Bast, please...

For a moment, nothing happened. Then hundreds of thick roots rocketed out of the ground, wrapping around one of the rolling weapons and crushing it in their grasp.

Next to her, Wanda reached out her hands and lifted the weapon into the air, letting Vision and Tony cut into it and blow it apart.

One problem down. Two to go.

“Archers!” Dewani shouted. “Draw! Loose!”

Arrows flew down the hill, hitting and nicking the alien soldiers in turn. The beasts started collapsing, clutching at their throats while they shuddered on the ground.

“Concentrated serum of Belladonna atropa,” Dewani said when M’Baku looked up at her.

He grinned. “Good thinking.” His smile faded quickly as he cast his gaze to Adesina. “What’s she doing here?”

“We need reinforcements.”

“No, absolutely not--”

“We’re out of options and we don’t have the time to argue,” Okoye spat out, cutting off the argument before it could start. “Rally your men, and you--” she tilted her chin up at Adesina “--either help or leave.” She stood as M’Baku started shouting a war cry with the remaining Jabari soldiers, taking the fleeting minute she had to assess who all was left. So many are already gone...

The ground started shaking, and then two smoking splits appeared on either side of the hill. Demons --dark, twisted, gut-wreching beings--sprinted down the hill, shrieking as they slammed into the alien army.

“You’re going to have to be quick about this. Once the portals close, they’ll disappear.”

Okoye looked up at Adesina when she heard the pain in the taller woman’s voice.

Ash was already blooming across her skin, and her hands were shaking.

“Let’s go!” Okoye shouted, adjusting her grip on her spear before running down the hill again.

Things happened blindingly fast from there.

One: somehow, Thanos managed to grab hold of Vision. Before the glorified android or anyone else could react, the Titan crushed the being’s skull and extricated the yellow Infinity Stone from the metal husk.

“Shit!” Tony shouted. “We need to take him out! Now!”

Two: Thor and Loki appeared along with the talking raccoon and tree in a flash of light. Thor held up an axe towards the sky and summoned a burst of lightning, taking out a hefty chunk of the alien army.

Good, maybe they can--

Three: the red gem on the gauntlet Thanos wore started glowing, and he reached into an invisible tear in reality before pulling out the Tesseract.

“Somebody put a hole in this guy’s head!” Rhodes snapped as he fired at wave after wave of aliens.

Okoye gritted her teeth and took off running towards Thanos. If she got close enough, she had a shot at launching her spear into his face. I like my odds--

Four: one of the four-armed creatures slammed into her, knocking her on her back.

Okoye grunted as she used her spear to keep the creature from biting her head off. Get it off and get up! Get it off and get up!

Someone shouted before slamming a wooden staff into the alien’s head--

M’Baku.

Okoye was back on her feet in a flash, helping her partner take down the alien grunt as quickly as they could. “We need to stop Thanos!”

“I don’t think we can anymore!”

The blue gem glowed in its housing as Thanos walked through every obstacle thrown in his path. He was on a dead set path towards Strange, who was distracted by one of the grunts that had latched onto his cloak and wasn’t letting go.

Okoye reached out and grabbed M’Baku’s hand. “No. No, he can’t--”

Five: the amulet housing the last Infinity Stone snapped away from the doctor’s neck like thread and was in the last opening on the gauntlet in the blink of an eye.

M’Baku pulled her closer. “Oh fuck--”

Somewhere nearby, Thor let out a bellow and sent his axe flying at Thanos.

It’s not going to work, Okoye realized. He’s already won.

Thanos turned, smiling triumphantly, and lifted his hand.

Okoye closed her eyes, clinging to M’Baku as he turned to shield her from whatever was about to come.

Everything went white.

#sass writes #black panther fanfiction #okoye x m'baku #this ends on a cliffhanger and i am not apologizing for it #the continued adventures of sass rewriting infinity war to make some actual fucking sense #wakanda forever

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