#*stares very closely at this post* another has fallen to our ranks

[keichanz]

Mistake

kay so i really don't care if some of this doesn't make sense because this is the first thing i've written in a while that i don't absolutely hate. well this version at least. ending up scraping the first draft because it just seemed wrong and went in a different direction. im glad i did cause im happy with it.

anyway i realize that this may not get much feedback because i took a different approach to it, aka the entire pov is from an OC but i can't bring myself to care too much because i wrote this purely for myself. got inspired, started writing, and i actually liked the content i was writing. end of.

btw the oc doesn't refer to inuyasha as a half-demon because he's unaware he is one and i was too lazy to delve into those waters anyhow.

also for the sake of this oneshot pls dont look too closely at the ranks of diplomat and ambassador. i was too lazy to put much research regarding positions of power so just...go with it.

inspired by @stillunderyourbed​'s art that can be found here.

It was…quaint. Smaller than what he'd expected. The housing structures looked subpar, there didn't appear to be any wooden walkways, and he could detect the distinct odor or fish in the air with hints of manure. There even seemed to be a perpetual dust cloud hovering at about waist high, thickening from the numerous carts, wagons, horses, and villagers kicking up dirt as they went about their daily lives. Already he felt like there was a layer of dust caked on the inside of his lungs and he wasn't even inside yet.

All in all, it was your typical countryside village, home to simple folk that made a living off of fishing, farming, and trade. The diplomat sneered in disgust. For being the rumored home of the creature strong enough to destroy the despicable Naraku, the village was…less than impressive. And to say that he was underwhelmed would be a vast understatement.

Shifting atop his mount, a chestnut gelding that had been his faithful companion for the last four years, Takeji frowned as he surveyed the sight before him. It was early afternoon, so men were out working in the fields, women were chatting amongst themselves as they laundered clothing at the river, and children were running about, playing and laughing while dogs barked at their heels. He could see the great red torii gate and the stone staircase that led to the shrine and he could hardly refrain from rolling his eyes.

The village was obviously poor, possibly even teetering on the edge of poverty, and instead of feeding themselves for a good long while, they decided to construct that monstrosity. He would never understand the minds of simple common folk. Daft. All of them.

Barely keeping himself from scowling, Takeji reluctantly climbed off his mount and forced himself to move forward into the pathetic excuse for a village. Already he knew he would have to burn his expensive attire; there would be no getting the dust and stench out of it after his ghastly visit. A visit he had not wanted to make, but being a highly revered and prestigious diplomat, it was his duty to travel to far off lands in hopes of establishing a profitable relationship that would ultimately benefit his homeland.

Although, looking around and fighting against the urge to retch at both the nauseating stench and the mere sight of all the unwashed villagers milling around, Takeji wondered not for the first time why he even bothered to accept this task. True, it was said the slayer of Naraku did hail from here, but surely having his homeland associated with this hovel would garner nothing but loss. So why had he agreed to come?

Oh, yes, he mused, grimacing as he stepped over a large manure pile right in the middle of the road. Because apparently, being all chummy with the nation's hero will allow us to have him at our beck and call, because who doesn't want a powerful demon capable of slaying the most evil demon in all of existence as an intimidating presence during negotiations, and let's not forget he alone would be equal to about one hundred soldiers in battle.

Rolling his eyes, Takeji tied his mount to a hitching post, withdrew his satchel with all the necessary paperwork, and set about finding this Inuyasha fellow. He'd been told the demon wore scarlet robes, carried a sword at his hip, and had white hair so no doubt he would stick out like a sore thumb amongst the droll browns and grays of the common folk, which suited him just fine. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could leave because there was no way he was staying even a second more in this village than he had to. Even if the next inn was hours away, he'd make the journey; the inn here was probably as unclean and riddled with bed bugs or something. Ugh. How vile.

Shrugging the satchel over his shoulder, Takeji bit back a groan, sighed, and hadn't even made it a single step before the sound of screaming froze him in his tracks. He gasped and immediately started looking for the danger, body tense, preparing to hop back onto his steed lightning fast and make a hasty getaway.

But as he looked around with wide eyes and a frantically beating heart, Takeji couldn't help but notice that he was the only one that appeared to have heard the sound of terror. The villagers were just continuing to go about their day, calm as you please, either severely deaf or completely uncaring. Takeji was beginning to wonder if he was perhaps hearing things when it happened again, a high-pitched sound that he realized with dread belonged to a child.

Takeji gaped. A child was in danger and nobody cared?! What kind of village was this?! Another shriek pierced the air, and Takeji made a decision. Very well; if these imbeciles weren't going to do anything about it, then he himself would see to the danger. While by no means a swordsman or warrior, he did have some weapons training he could fall back on for this precise reason. Traveling alone was dangerous, and you never knew what you would encounter.

Resolved, the diplomat set his jaw, unsheathed the dagger at his waist, and darted toward the direction the screams were coming from. He meandered between houses, hoped over lazing dogs, dodged startled villagers in his path, and he came into a small clearing by the forest's edge. The sight that greeted him was…not what he expected.

Coming up short, Takeji watched with a befuddled frown as one child chased around two other, slightly older looking children. One might think they were playing a game of sorts, and the diplomat started to believe that was indeed the case…until the one doing the chasing, clad in red, suddenly jumped high into the air, over the heads of the other two children, and landed before them with hands raised.

Hands, Takeji noticed with growing dread and disgust, tipped with claws on each finger and he quickly realized what exactly was happening. That wicked little demon brat, that creature was toying with those helpless children! It was keeping them trapped, preventing them from running away by leaping over their heads and blocking their route of escape! They screamed, the demon child laughed, and so potent was his fury, so enraged was he for the fact that the villagers apparently did not care about what was happening right beneath their noses, Takeji failed to notice the wide smiles on all three of the young one's faces. The blood pounding in his ears prevented him from hearing the gleeful giggles as the two human kids scrambled away from the one clad in red, and without another thought, Takeji moved.

"Run, children!" Takeji ordered as he hurled himself into the clearing, dagger raised as he charged toward the demon brat with a baleful glare. "I will take care of his filthy animal!"

All three children froze in place, eyes wide as Takeji inserted himself between the two human children - twin girls, he idly noted - and the demon spawn that dared raised its claws toward them. The brat stared up at him with big brown eyes and it - she - actually looked confused. Takeji scowled. He would not fall for such a ploy.

"I will not allow you to harm them," he spat and pointed his dagger at her. The child blinked at him and then looked behind him at the two girls who still had not taken the chance to flee. In shock, perhaps? Stunned? No matter; they were safe, so long as he stood between them and the threat.

The demon child made a face and started to walk around him, completely disregarding the weapon trained on her, but Takeji shifted and stopped her once more. He heard the two behind him whispering as the spawn looked up at him once again, this time frowning at him with narrowed eyes. And was that a growl he heard? He snorted. Was she actually trying to appear threatening? Pathetic.

Scowling, Takeji lifted a foot, placed it on her stomach, and shoved. The demon gasped as she stumbled back and then landed on her behind with a small grunt. He heard a gasp from behind him, urgent whispering, and then hurried scrambling. A glance over his shoulder told him they'd finally gotten wise and ran away. He nodded. Good. Now he could deal with this vermin without innocent eyes to bear witness.

But as he stared down at the pathetic sight before him, Takeji wondered maybe if such measures would even be necessary. The beast was still lying where she had fallen and was staring up at him with wide eyes brimming with…wait. What? Were those tears? Oh, you have got to be joking.

Rolling his eyes, the diplomat scoffed at the pathetic play for mercy and careless waved his dagger at her. The child actually flinched and followed the blade with her gaze, wariness clear in her eyes. Well. It appeared her self-preservation instincts have finally kicked in.

"Cease your theatrics," Takeji drawled, unimpressed. "They do not fool me. Now lucky for you, demon spawn, the pathetic sight you project has made me decide to spare your life. Your tainted blood is not worthy enough to soil my blade, so I will say this only one and you would do well to heed this warning, beast."

Hardening his stare and curling his lip into a sneer, Takeji spat, "Leave this place at once and do not return. There is no place for the likes of you, an abomination that preys on helpless children. Now get out of my sight, afore I kill you on principle. Your vile presence disgusts me."

The child grunted and Takeji watched, stone faced, as she got to her feet. Then to his surprise the little demon balled her hands into fists at her sides and glared at him, but the effect was ruined by the tears he could clearly see brimming her eyes. He cocked a brow, unmoved. She sniffled once, twice, and then to his utter surprise and bafflement, her face suddenly crumbled, her lower lip trembled, and she promptly burst into loud tears before spinning on her heel and running away.

"P-Papaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Takeji frowned. Papa? Were the brat's kin nearby, then? Body tense and weapon raised, he waited, prepared to either fight or flee - because he wasn't a fool and knew when he was in over his head - but when no demons came bursting out of the tree line, Takeji slowly relaxed.

Bewildered and more than a little annoyed at the whole debacle - what a waste of time! - the diplomat scoffed in derision as he turned to watch the little demon brat scurry away. And then right at that exact moment, a figure donned in red dropped to the ground seemingly out of nowhere and Takeji felt a wave of relief sweep through him. Finally! This had to be his demon quarry.

Nodding, Takeji stepped forward and opened his mouth to call out a greeting—

And then froze in his tracks as the greeting abruptly died on his tongue. Because the little demon girl, the one he'd just pointed his weapon at and shoved to the ground, ran straight to the figure robed in red and Takeji could do naught but watch with a growing sense of horrified dread as the older demon knelt down to take the child into his arms.

All color promptly drained from his face and Takeji suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He glanced behind the pair and he was somehow not at all surprised to find the twin girls from earlier glaring at them and holding onto the skirts of their mother with a monk garbed in violet robes beside her. They too were staring at him in a not so friendly manner, but upon returning his gaze to the two demons, Takeji numbly thought that if looks could kill, he would surely be dead by now.

Because the demon robed in red - which was now unmistakably the child's father and none other than Inuyasha, the demon he'd come here for - was glaring absolute murder at him and it was obvious that he was. Not. Pleased.

Takeji swallowed and unconsciously backed up a step. With one small hand fisting her father's robes, the child had the other pointing an accusatory finger at him as she no doubt recited to him their earlier…ah, exchange. Inuyasha said nothing in response, but he didn't need to. The deep, nearly subsonic growl that erupted from his mouth, complete with fully bared fangs in a truly fearsome snarl, told him very clearly of his thoughts on his daughter's mistreatment by him.

Which, if Takeji had to guess, were not very Takeji-friendly. At all.

Somehow managing to fight against the urge to flee, Takeji swallowed hard as Inuyasha pushed to his feet and stalked toward him with that same murderous look on his face. Something told him, perhaps some deeply rooted self-preservation instinct, that if he even tried to run right then, it would not end well for him. So he remained where he was and tried valiantly to control the trembling in his body as he slowly, very slowly, tucked his dagger back from whence it came.

Inuyasha stopped in front of him and Takeji cleared his throat before attempting a placating smile, but it looked more like a grimace than anything. "Ah…I assume you are…In—"

One second Takeji was staring into the scowling features of one pissed off dog demon. The next there was a bright flash of light and then he was staring at the business end of a very large and very sharp sword. With the tip just a hair's breadth away from his nose, Takeji gasped sharply and stumbled back a step out of instinct.

Sweet merciful heavens! How—?

"Usually I'd ask who the fuck you are," the demon growled, his eyes twin slits of baleful gold. "But honestly, I can't really bring myself to care enough to know the name of the asshole who threatened my daughter when she was doing nothing but playing with her friends."

Takeji blanched for the second time and he could actually feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat. He fucked up. Oh dear god he'd fucked up so bad—

"There's—there's been a misunderstanding," Takeji tried in a voice higher than usual, raising his hands up in what he hoped was a placating gesture as he eyed the very sharp point of that blade. "I—I admit I've made a grave mistake—"

"Shut the fuck up and tell me why I shouldn't gut you where you stand," Inuyasha hissed, lips feeling back off his fangs in another fierce snarl. With his ears pinned back and those golden eyes glaring absolute death at him, the demon made quite the menacing picture. Takeji had the brief, if a bit ludicrous thought, that perhaps the demon Naraku perished from the sheer animosity that was coming off of the silver-haired demon in waves.

Swallowing once, twice, Takeji realized that he only had his quick wit to get him out of his certain predicament. So bracing himself, he opened his mouth—

"He's from the continent, Inuyasha. You can't hurt him."

Startled hazel eyes swung toward the source of the voice but amber eyes stayed locked on their target, the only acknowledgment of the voice a flick of an ear.

The owner of the voice the human diplomat could only presume was the child's mother, as the child in question was standing behind her legs and was actually smirking at him. He frowned.

"You're from Shenshi," the woman remarked and Takeji swung his gaze back to her. "Right?"

Though her expression wasn't openly friendly, it wasn't exactly unfriendly either, however the human diplomat still felt he needed to tread carefully. Because while her face didn't betray anything, her stare was hard and her mouth had tightened into a thin, flat line. She had one hand on her daughter's head while the other clutched a longbow, and belatedly he realized she had a quiver of arrows slung across her back. He barely held in a flinch as he realized this was one of the demon's companions that had assisted in slaying Naraku, possibly the young woman in which Inuyasha held a more meaningful relationship.

A much more meaningful relationship, if the child currently glaring daggers at him was anything to go by since she was more or less living proof of it.

Wonderful. So he'd gone and threatened the only child of two of the most powerful beings in Japan. Clearly he'd stepped over the wrong grave and pissed somebody off.

Clearing his throat and aiming a strained smile toward the woman who was still awaiting his reply, Takeji nodded once. "Ah, y-yes, my lady. I'm—"

"The diplomat Ambassador Sharaku sent to convince Inuyasha to join his ranks so he'd have the support and protection of 'The Great Slayer of Naraku.'" The woman raised a delicate brow at him. "How am I doing so far?"

Takeji had the good grace to look a mite sheepish. "Ah…well—"

"You can't kill him, Inuyasha," she repeated and Takeji thought she sounded disappointed. "If he goes missing, the ambassador will send his troops to find out what happened or if he returns injured, it could be taken as an insult and you can imagine what would happen after that. You would risk mine or Moroha's life like that, and you know it."

Inuyasha growled but said nothing to refute her words, so Takeji assumed he agreed.

"He threatened her, Kagome," the demon spat, inching the blade closer to his throat and Takeji flinched. "Called her a fucking animal, shoved her down, and waved a goddamn dagger in her face! You can't honestly expect me to let that—"

"Papa," the child - Moroha - suddenly said, successfully stalling her father's angry tirade. A quick glance revealed the girl, still sticking close to her mother, was staring at the older demon with big brown eyes, bright with the threat of tears as she worried her bottom lip. And evidently the sight was enough to calm the raging storm of Inuyasha's fury because he grimaced, released a low growl, and then Takeji watched in stunned amazement as the massive sword suddenly transformed into a rusty katana before it was sheathed at his hip.

With a weapon no longer at his throat, Takeji could breathe a little easier and he released a breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding. But then he sucked it right back in when Inuyasha suddenly stepped in close and got in his face, a low, threatening growl leaking past rightly clenched teeth bared in another snarl. Golden eyes bore into his own, filled with a lethal warning that had the human male's back straightening and his blood to run cold in his veins.

"You listen carefully, asshole," Inuyasha hissed, glaring so heatedly it was a wonder Takeji didn't burst into flame. "Don't you dare think that my wife's words have any sort of sway over my decision to spare your pathetic life. I'm not scared of your weakling ambassador and I sure as hell ain't scared of his little human army. No, the only reason that I let you live is because I don't want my daughter, the one you foolishly threatened when she had done nothing wrong, to see me sully my hands with your disgusting blood when I reduce you to nothing more than a bloody smear on the ground."

Takeji paled and swallowed thickly. That particular image was…not pleasant.

Inuyasha watched the color drain from his face. Satisfied, he sneered before saying in a growl filled with sinister promise, "Now get the fuck outta my village and if you ever touch my daughter again, I'll gut you so fast you won't even have time to fucking scream."

Then with that, Inuyasha leveled him with one last dark scowl before spinning on his heel and stalking away, a clear dismissal. Neither mother nor daughter even spared the frozen human male a glance as Inuyasha paused to pick his daughter up into his arms before striding away, his wife close to one side and his friends on the other.

From over his shoulder, Takeji could only watch in a mixture of shock and befuddlement as the little demon girl named Moroha smirked and then stuck her tongue out at him, safe and sound in her father's arms.

Left standing in a state of numb bewilderment, Takeji blinked, looked down at himself, and had the passing thought that it was a very good thing he'd decided to wear brown trousers that day.

#mistake #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha #inukag #moroha #oneshot #keizfanfiction #papayasha to the rescuuuuue #i deliberately did not tag anybody in this and no i will not say why #and yes i did use sharaku because it sounds like naraku #listen dont fuck with his wife or kid #you will die #if you dont understand that last sentence #tough shit im not explaining it lmao

[phoxphyre]

In honor of the gorgeous Snowbaz Pride & Prejudice art from @laeve-leve--and because it’s looking like it’s still going to be a while before I finish and start actually posting this thing--I’m going to do something a bit different for WIP Wednesday and post an entire scene. 

I’ve posted bits and pieces of this before, but here’s my version of the 2005 P&P rain proposal scene.  

Tagging @super-duper-twelve (for encouraging me to keep writing in the middle of a crazy month), @captain-aralias, @flammable-grimm-pitch, @otherworldsivelivedin, @nightimedreamersworld, @palimpsessed, @wetheformidables, @ninemagicks​, @aristocratic-otter​, @sharkmartini​ and anyone else who wants to share! 

~~~~~~

Once in the park Simon summoned the Sword of Mages and swung it viciously, slicing the heads off of flowers and cutting new pathways into the spring grass. His mother would reproach him for using it for something so trivial—but after all, she was not here.

When the skies at last poured open Simon bent his head back and stood staring up into the clouds.  

“Perfect,” he said.

He was soaked to the skin within moments. He strode onwards; something about the weather matched his mood.

“Her family,” Simon said viciously.

It was impossible that Mr. Pitch could have meant anyone other than Shepard and Penny. He was hardly surprised that Mr. Pitch had opposed the match, but he had believed Miss Wellbelove the chief architect of their separation. To learn that Mr. Pitch was the cause, that his vanity and pride were the cause of all that Penny had suffered—that she continued to suffer—

Simon decapitated a hapless daisy. Mr. Pitch had ruined the hope of happiness for the best person Simon knew—the person who had saved him when he had lost everything.

“‘There were very strong objections against the lady,’” Simon bit out. What were the objections? That she had one uncle who was a country attorney, and another who was in trade?

Mr. Pitch could not possibly have objected to Penny herself. She was perhaps somewhat irregular in her way—but also sharp as a blade, a talented magician, on her way to becoming a brilliant magickal scholar. She was exactly the type of person Mr. Pitch should respect. Nor was there anything to object to in their mother.

His father and siblings, on the other hand…but no, that could not possibly be the reason. It was all vanity; Mr. Pitch must object to their lack of connections, their want of wealth. And perhaps Simon’s own bastardy.

Simon swung at a stump; the sword stuck in the wood, and he had to use two hands to pull it out. Even the cold felt good: the act of driving his body to escape the tyranny of his mind.

Simon broke free of the trees and found himself on a long lawn. To his left it sloped down to a picturesque pond, all surrounded by willows weeping into the gray water; to his right it climbed to a ridiculous Grecian folly, the kind of thing that rich people planted on their lands when they grew tired of hedge mazes. The rain pounded down, stronger here without the trees to shield him. He broke into a run, less to escape the rain than to feel the blood pumping through his body.

The folly was little more than four columns reaching to the sky with a marble floor and a rounded wall on one side; it was roofless, and once within the columns Simon tipped his head up again, drinking in the rain. He felt hot with rage, as if his anger might overflow his body and run down the hill like the rain.  

Then, without warning, there was the tap of riding boots against marble—and suddenly Mr. Pitch was there.

For a moment they stared at each other. He was as wet as Simon, his hair plastered to his skull. Water ran from the ends of his hair and tracked down his cheekbones like tears.

“Simon,” Mr. Pitch said. Through his anger Simon saw that his eyes were the color of the pond. The storm washed everything about him grey-green; he might have been the statue of an angel carved from the same rock as the columns.

“I—” he said. And then he took two steps forward, pressing Simon back into the stone of the wall, and crushed Simon’s lips against his.

For a moment Simon was frozen, too surprised to resist. He felt the cold stone against his hips, the cold rain running between their two faces. Against his will his hand came up and wound itself into the hair at the back of Mr. Pitch’s neck. Somehow he had already known how it would feel, soft as down under the pads of his fingers. His mouth opened; Mr. Pitch’s lips were gentle on his, even as his body pushed Simon’s into the stone. Simon could feel him down the whole length of his body, warm where he blocked Simon from the rain.

Then Simon’s hands came up; he placed both palms against Mr. Pitch’s shoulders and pushed him away, hard. Mr Pitch stumbled back a few paces; he raised his hand to touch his lips.

“What. The hell,” Simon spat.  

“Simon,” Mr. Pitch said. “I have struggled in vain. It will not do.” He took a step forward. “I came to Hampshire to see you—” He shook his head, the wet ends of his hair whipping past his face. “I had to see you.”

Simon could only stare at him.  

“I’ve fought against my family’s expectations, my better judgement, the lowness of your birth—my rank and circumstance…” His voice hitched. “All of it. I know any connection between us must be reprehensible. But I must put those considerations aside and ask you: please, end my agony.”

Simon had never seen that expression on his face, had never imagined that face capable of making such an expression: open and yearning, as if all of his walls had fallen and the gates thrown open.

“I love you,” said Mr. Pitch. “Most ardently.”

Simon made a noise, halfway between horror and mad laughter. “You love me?”

Mr. Pitch extended his hand, pale in the darkness of the storm. Rain ran down the curves of his fingers and pooled in his palm. “Believe me, I wish I did not. It is ridiculous—unthinkable. But I do.”

Simon stared at the hand and did not take it. “It is ridiculous to love me?” he said slowly.

“Yes,” said Mr. Pitch. He sounded relieved that Simon had understood so quickly. “But here we are. So I must beg you to accept my hand.”

“You have a strange way of begging,” said Simon.

“What?”

“I am sorry if your—passion has been difficult for you,” Simon said. “But no. No.”  

He watched Mr. Pitch’s face close as he spoke, the gates swinging shut and the walls fortified.  

“So you are refusing me?” Mr. Pitch said coldly. He withdrew his hand, wiped it on his coat, and placed it in his pocket.  

“Yes.” Simon could not help the bite in his voice. “But as you have so little esteem for me, I hope you will recover quickly.”

“Might I inquire why I am thus rejected?”  

“I am surprised you need to inquire, after telling me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character.”

“I did not mean—”

“You should thank you me for saving you from such a terrible fate,” said Simon. “In any case, did you think I would marry the man who has ruined the happiness of my dearest friend? My sister?”

Mr. Pitch paled further. The rain fell between them like a veil.

“Can you deny it?” Simon demanded. He stepped forward, thrusting his chest forward, forcing Mr. Pitch back a step.

“I have no wish to deny it,” said Mr. Pitch. Simon searched his face for regret and found none: only pride and bitterness. “I did everything in my power to separate Shepard from your sister, and I rejoice in my success. I have been kinder to him than myself.”

“Why?” Simon demanded. He put his hands against Mr. Pitch’s shoulders again and shoved, pushing him back. “How could you do it?”

“I believed she was indifferent to him.”

“She danced with him! She laughed with him!”

“She argued with him! Continually!”  

“For Penny, that is love!” Simon snarled. “She was supposed to show her true feelings? You will not even show your true feelings when you find your mother’s journals!”

Mr. Pitch stumbled back another step, away from Simon’s hands. “And I suppose you despise me for what I am as well?”

“No! I would never—”

“After all, why would you tie yourself to a dark creature?” Mr. Pitch said bitterly. “Even when it would save yourself and your family.”

“Yes, it is always about money, with people like you. I suppose you think Penny was hungry for Shepard’s fortune?”

“I would never do her the dishonour. Although it was made clear that an advantageous marriage—”

“Did Penny give that impression?”

“No! But there was your family—”

“My family. What was it—our want of connection? My bastardy?”

“It was the lack of propriety shown by your father, your younger siblings—even your mother on occasion.” He looked away. “Forgive me.”  

“Oh? Is that all? And what about Mr. Lamb?”

“Lamb?” Mr. Pitch said blankly.  

“What excuse can you give for what you did to him?”

“You certainly take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns.” The earlier openness had been entirely wiped away; Mr. Pitch’s face showed only anger now.

“How could I help it, once I knew of his misfortunes?”

“Oh, yes, his misfortunes,” Mr. Pitch said savagely.

“You were the one who reduced him to poverty, and yet you mock and ridicule him.”

“So this is your opinion of me!” cried Mr. Pitch. He paced from one side of the folly to the other, his steps quick and angry. “This is the estimation in which you hold me! Thank you for explaining it so fully.”

Suddenly he was before Simon again, having moved too quickly for Simon’s eyes to follow. It was so inhuman a motion that Simon could not help himself; he shrank away, as one shies from a snake. Mr. Pitch’s eyes narrowed.

He thrust his face into Simon’s, almost spitting now. “But you might have overlooked all of this, if I had not injured your pride—if I had lied and flattered you.” He raised a hand, and Simon thought for a moment that he would strike him. Simon put his hand over his hip, wondering if he could summon his blade quickly enough to prevent Mr. Pitch from killing him.

But Mr. Pitch was already dropping his hand, turning away. “I refuse,” he said. “I will not lie to you. I abhor disguise of every sort.”

Simon grabbed his arm, preventing him from moving away. The skin was cold beneath his fingers and slippery from the rain. “You have been lying from the moment you met me,” he said. He yanked at Mr. Pitch’s arm, wrenching it in its socket. “All you are is disguise! And there is nothing you could have said to make me consider your offer.”

“Simon—”

“My name is Mr. Snow,” Simon spat.

Mr. Pitch tried to wrench his arm from Simon’s grasp, but Simon held on doggedly. “I’ve known it from the first moment met,” he said. “You are the last person in the world I could ever marry.”

Mr. Pitch’s arm was still in Simon’s grip, so instead he leaned in, his face a breath away from Simon’s. “Are you quite finished?” he said coldly.  

This close, Simon could see the rings of colour in Mr. Pitch’s eyes, all the hues of the sea. He could feel Mr. Pitch’s breath on his face. He loosened his grip, and Mr. Pitch’s arm slid from his fingers.

“You have said quite enough, sir,” Mr. Pitch said. “I perfectly comprehend your feelings.” He turned to go; his boots made a dull plashing in the puddles gathering on the stone floor.

“I have now only to be ashamed—” his breath hitched, and Simon watched his shoulders rise and fall. “Of what my own have been.”

He looked back over his shoulder, his voice full of venom.

“Forgive me, sir, for taking up so much of your time.”

He strode from the folly. A moment later Simon heard the sound of hooves, pounding away.  

#pride and prejudice au #valour vanity and vampires #snowbaz #WIP Wednesday

[capricornus-rex]

The Haunt of Redemption (10)

Sequel to: A Path I Can’t Follow

Chapter 10: Return of the Jedi | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: It has been months since your last encounter with Cal, at that time he was a fledgling Inquisitor. In an ironic twist of fate, you cross paths and blades with him once again, and he’s keen on turning you into an Inquisitor as well—unless you bring him back to the light first.

Tags: Dark Side! Cal Kestis, Inquisitor! Cal Kestis, Redemption Arc! Cal Kestis

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 | Previous: Chapter 9 | Next: Chapter 11 | Masterlist

10 of 11

Not only did Cal feel the emotions that you allowed him to feel again, you showed him the memories that truly mattered. He was seeing everything in your point of view.

He saw himself—his old self—leaning against the broken wall of the Vault’s outer enclave, staring at the sunset upon Bogano. It was as if he was reliving the memory of his past self—he felt your hand slipping into his, in return, you clutch it back as both of you peered at the suns sinking behind the mesa.

However, your vulnerability allowed him to intrude beyond that line. He found you inside a house that he’s never seen before and he caught a glimpse of the Holocron being hidden away in a box by a pair of hands; before the slip-up could get any worse and expose Obi-Wan with the Holocron, you pushed him out and erected the same wall.

The vision ended and he jerked his hand away at the abrupt jab of light, a deep buzzing sound cracked in his ears as he shifted back into reality. The Grand Inquisitor saw how the Eleventh Brother appear disoriented—surely, he must have gotten some results.

“Well?!”

“I… I saw it… it was being kept away someplace.”

“Where is it? Where is that place?!”

“I… I don’t know…” the boy shuddered.

As he stepped into the light, it terrified you more when he got closer to you. Your lip shivered in fear, goosebumps pelted your skin, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. The Grand Inquisitor shoved Cal away and stood eye-to-eye with you.

“I see,” he purred. Then through his jagged, pointed teeth, he hissed. “With the Holocron nowhere to be found, yet the boy claims that you’ve seen its contents, perhaps not all is lost after all.”

“I can see that your overconfidence is your best asset,” you spat.

“Charming,” a sarcastic smile crawled about his lip pale, ivory lips. With a flicking gesture of his fingers, the operator pushed the button and the shock was so sharp that your spine arched against the bed. “You will either tell us what we want to know or you die in this very contraption.”

“Maybe I’ll go with… PISS OFF!”

“Very well,” he sighed, sarcastically rolling his eyes. He abruptly turned to the operator and barked. “Set the voltage level to five!”

Another notch turned, followed by the press of a button. The two conduits hummed as it closed in on your body. As the cold, metal pads pressed against the flesh below your collarbone, the only thing you’re able to do is suck in a huge dollop of air and release a gut-wrenching scream so loud that your throat has gotten dry from all the crying. Your body jerked in response to the high voltage—your knees buckled, your wrist pivoted underneath the cuffs, and the agonizing throes of your body to all sides rattled the machine itself.

The Grand Inquisitor threw his fist in the mid-air, signaling the operator to pause, and interrogated you again. There was a sinister glint in his eyes at the instance of an afterthought.

“You know, there is another proposition that may perhaps be of great benefit for either party,” he sniggered. He didn’t await a reply from you, and so he continued. “Join our ranks, I’ll let you live and you will be of better use to me, far better than that traitorous Jedi, Cere Junda.”

“You don’t know Cere! She is a far better warrior than you could ever be!”

“Such misplaced faith, such misguided strength,” he subtly turned to Cal. “Now, I see why he was so eager to take you in because he told me you’d prove me of something—and I’m beginning to see it just now.”

You glanced over the taller Inquisitor’s shoulder to find Cal, he stood there, his eyes avoided you in the brief second that your gazes met.

“I’m impressed that the Eighth Sister spoke highly of you,” the Pau’an added. “As matter of fact, it’s a first for her! She never really liked competition.”

“Send her my regards then,” you spat.

“So, [y/n], what will it be? Die a ‘noble’ death here or see the true magnitude of your power—something that the Jedi nor your Master was ever able to unravel for you!”

Another shock. Your body is gradually growing numb from the electricity coursing throughout your body, your muscles are now suffering from spasms, your heart rate is three levels above normal—any more and it would get touch the critical level—and your breathing labored as you endure the pain.

“That high pain threshold is quite impressive. Not many can live beyond six,” he sniggered. “Notch the setting to seven!”

“No… NO!!!”

As the level of the shock increases, it went from mild to excruciating. Your muscles sprained due to your thrashing, you could feel your nerves burning at the intensity, every limb in your body jerked and curled at the mercy of the voltage.

“Well, he was right about one thing. You are strong, indeed. I am only keeping you alive because he told me that you can be of use to me.

“CAL… PLEASE!!” you cried out, throwing your head back to release an ear-shattering, painful scream.

The sensation was similar to being burned alive, except this one packed a bigger punch—since electricity consumes the body slower than fire, therefore it causes the victim to suffer for longer while still being partially-alive depending on their pain tolerance.

“What’s it going to be, child?!”

“I am a Jedi…! You can never break me!”

“I often find heroics quite dull,”

The indigo cracks of voltage danced before your eyes, your vision has blurred and you could only make out the colors and the silhouettes of those in the chamber. Cal shirked farther back in the room, he was slowly dissolving into the shadows from your perspective, and your cries of pain mixing with the call of his name were agonizing and stomach-churning.

He averted his eyes, even shut them tight with his hands tucked behind his back, and struggled to ignore your cries for help.

“CAL… HELP ME…!!”

Involuntarily and suddenly, a memory that the two of you shared played before his eyes. He saw you clinging on the edge of a cliff after a Nydak destroyed the stone pillar you used as a stepping stone. Your fingers were digging into the muck but you were slipping away.

“Cal, help me!”

“I got you! Don’t worry, baby… I got you!”

The memory of him running to you, grabbing you on both arms to pull you back up. He catches you in his arms in the final tug and cradled you.

An energy he has been unknowingly piling up was almost too much for him to contain. This energy rooted from all kinds of emotions—hate, pain, and anger.

“No…” he mouthed, his eyelids relaxing but keeping closed.

“HELP ME…!”

The Grand Inquisitor has sensed it, but reacted too late. Cal released perhaps the strongest wave of energy, inflicting Mass Push and Empowered Slow in quick succession on everybody in the room except for you, he switched on BD-1 using the Force and ran to you. While the little droid took a minute to reboot his entire system, Cal unbuckled the restraints as quickly as he can. Your body, limp and exhausted from enduring all that pain, fell away from the machine.

“I got you …!” Cal gasped as he caught you.

“Cal…?” you struggled to open your eyes, a blurry image of his face filled your sight.

“Don’t worry, baby, I got you…! Can you stand?”

You didn’t answer, you struggled to stand and Cal supported you by wrapping your arm around his shoulder. Both of you hobbled away from the machine and to the door. Apparently, the effect of Cal’s abilities against the Grand Inquisitor wore off sooner than the rest.

“YOU WEAK, INSOLENT COWARD!” The Grand Inquisitor bellowed while trying to break free, you and Cal were taken by surprise when you saw the Pau’an flexing and stretching his neck and shoulders.

Knowing he had to think fast, he used the Force to pull your lightsaber resting on the control terminal and handed it over to you; he also found that BD-1’s back to full function.

“BD-1, come on!”

When the little droid saw that Cal was helping you, he made a quick, cheerful chirp and flew towards the both of you with his turbojets and perched onto Cal’s shoulder.

“Yeah, buddy, I got you!” he patted the little droid’s head and it chirped in response.

BD-1 voluntarily popped out a stim for you, which Cal caught in the air and injected right into you, hoping that the substance would help you recover enough strength to fight.

“Here,” Cal hands over your lightsaber. “Can you fight?”

A smirk curled at the corner of your mouth as you turned to face him and the both of you traded nods—an unspoken conversation that only you and Cal know the words to.

Your lightsabers ignited and hummed in unison, the both of you positioned into a defensive-offensive stance. It was two against one, though the Grand Inquisitor appeared to be unfazed by the odds. Both parties lunged at one another, the Pau’an deflected both sabers on each side and despite your combined strength, he didn’t back down—rather, he shifted all his weight against the two of you, and the dark warrior loomed over the two young Jedi.

For every jab either of you have for him, he always had a way to parry it. His skill was commendable, but it was also irritating and frustrating.

“Your skills pale against mine! I am more powerful than any Jedi combined!”

“Does he always gab this much when fighting?” you remarked. “It’s annoying, really.”

Cal smiled to himself. He almost hate to admit he missed your sarcasm.

“YOUR BLIND FAITH OF A FALLEN ORDER SHALL BE YOUR DOWNFALL!” The Grand Inquisitor snarled, in addition, he produced his ignited lightsaber in retaliation. The halo that encircled the hilt started spinning in a dramatic speed.

This time, it was the Grand Inquisitor who was in the offensive. He was more adept in using the aggressive, acrobatic forms—you detected a mix of Forms IV and VII, Ataru and Vaapad respectively—and he always managed to keep up with your next attacks, it’s as if he’s foreseen it before you could even make the move. The only thing you had against the Grand Inquisitor is your numbers; if you could overwhelm the Inquisitor with alternating attacks between you and Cal, it would confuse him and lose his focus—even for just a minute or a second, it counts.

You were on the defensive side of the duel; meanwhile, Cal sent a flurry of attacks in the Grand Inquisitor’s way—he attacked with a medley of fast-paced flourishes and spins, at the end of his figure-eight spin he stopped with a backhand that acted as a deflect against the Inquisitor’s overhead strike.

“[Y/N]!!” He simply called.

Cal made sure there was enough space between him and the enemy, he also timed in dropping his lightsaber to the most precise split second, enough for you to slide into the space between them and catching the falling saber altogether—when the black hilt fell into your grasp, the slightest turn of the wrist pointed this blade against the Grand Inquisitor and you slashed him across the shins.

“Agh!” the Grand Inquisitor exclaimed as the saber seared through his greaves.

You couldn’t help the feeling but celebrate in-battle—it was a bad habit, whenever you know you have taken the upper hand that is when you start partying inside your mind while still flinging a lightsaber at the enemy.

He fell to the floor, on his knees, but he was still able to deflect your overhead strike. He stood upright again in the small window of a second after he fell to the ground and was back in action. He focused more on Cal, hell-bent on destroying his former protégé who turned tail at the last minute. Crimson blades torched the darkness and the collision produced a fountain of sparks. The Grand Inquisitor did a cheap shot and jabbed Cal in the jaw with his able, the boy stumbled and it was the Pau’an’s chance to strike—but you quickly deprived him that when you directed your Force-Halt on him.

The Grand Inquisitor remained cemented, with his body still as a statue, and you ran up to him with a downward slash followed by the hardest kick your leg could muster. The impact of his fall was so hard that the gray little discs attached to his ears fell off, all of a sudden, a hybrid of high-pitched white noise and a deep, low buzzing entered his eardrums and nauseated him. The two of you backed away as you watched the Pau’an writhe on the floor with his hands padding his ears, your eyes searched for the gray ear discs and kicked it to the farthest side of the chamber.

“Come on, we gotta get out of here!” you cried.

The two of you made a run for it, Cal destroyed the control panel and the door froze in a partially-opened state. Vaulting through the sizable gap that the door left, the next gauntlet was getting past the bridge. A Stormtrooper punched the alarm before joining the fray, you and Cal easily cut through the numbers and sped across the bridge until you’ve reached the other side.

“[y/n], help me with this!”

Both of you tore the bridge apart by severing its connection until it was fully dismembered from the main platform. The bridge groaned as it became a slope upon its collapse, bringing down the Stormtroopers with it. Cal led you to the elevator and searched for the right button in the middle of a panic, he crunched a button of that eventually led you to a series of corridors.

“Cal, where are you taking us!?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Just now, actually!”

“Then follow my lead!”

For every one out of three turns in a hallway, you are met with a patrol of Stormtroopers who are now vigilant due to the high alert that’s been set off.

“Wait, there they are!”

Cal fished out a thermal detonator from his utility belt and tossed it right into the spot filled with Stormtroopers and then used the Force to shut the door until the bomb went off. A muffled explosion quaked the corridors and the siren howled in a continuous tone. With Cal on the lead, you covered the flank, cutting the path between yourselves and the units of Stormtroopers on your trail.

Your running speed has noticeably slowed down, you could barely keep up with Cal and looking over your shoulder to check if there are enemies behind you.

Come on, [y/n], come on! You coaxed yourself mentally. The exhaustion was eating away at your body for every step you take.

Along the way, you and Cal alternately destroyed the control panels of the doors that you’ve passed by, further cutting off the Stormtroopers chasing you.

“Here, [y/n], here!”

You come across a control room, but you emptied it of Stormtroopers and a single Imperial security droid. Cal approached and peered through the wide windows.

“There’s the hangar!” Cal pointed. “I think we can hijack a shuttle there and get the hell out of—!”

He turned around, his smile that was filled with the hope of a successful escape melted the moment he saw you fumbling to the ground and clutching your torso.

“[y/n], are you okay?” he ran up to you and caught you once again in his arms.

You didn’t tell Cal, but the successive exhaustion of being tortured via electrocution, being caught in combat, and now in the middle of a hot pursuit during a breakout has taken its toll on your body.

“Cal…” you fought between speaking and breathing, managing a tender cooing tone. “My baby… save yourself…”

“No, I’m not leaving you! Not when we’re so close!”

The response he received from you is your labored breathing, struggling to hold on for dear life.

A violent tremor shook the entire structure, the bridge must have totally gone down and damaged the lower levels. Subsequently, the destruction would cascade down to the fortress’s core; if you’re not quick enough, you might as well go down with the building.

“Come on, up you go!”

Cal scooped you up in his arms and sprinted through the hallway that leads to the shuttle hangar. He gently put you down behind some crates and fought off the guards blocking his way to the ship.

“There’s the traitor, stop him!”

A team of Stormtroopers led by a Purge Trooper rifleman blasted away at Cal, the barrage overwhelmed him and he didn’t exactly have Cere and her Force field to shield him from the hail of bullets. He banked the bullets back to their senders but a gunner from the upper platform sniped at his lightsaber with a charged shot—supposedly his head but his hand slipped.

The destroyed lightsaber clattered next to your feet and Cal slipped to the covers with you. You ripped open a concealed section on the right leg of your cargo pants and fished something out of it.

It was Cal’s lightsaber.

“You idiots didn’t search me,” you lightly thumped his head with the emitter as you sniggered.

He held your face and pulled you in for a kiss—it was abrupt, but you could feel the press of his lips against yours.

“I’m glad we didn’t!”

He ignited his true lightsaber, the radiant beam shone over the gloss of his eyes, and a grin stretched from ear-to-ear.

Now back in action, Cal banked the next shot at the sniper; vaulting over the crates, he carved a path to the group of Stormtroopers who were backing away in fear of the one-man army. He took down the leader Purge Trooper and then pulled all of his enemies around him, the lightsaber flew in a fan-like motion, tearing down the Stormtroopers in a single sweep. He returned to you behind the crates and found you unconscious, he checked for a pulse—there was, but it was weak.

“Come on, sweetie, up we go!”

He scooped you again bridal-style and slammed the door button open. Upon entering, he headed for the lounge and laid you down on the couch, kissed your forehead and then darted to the cockpit. BD-1 hopped over on the dashboard and watched Cal work his magic on the ship—a crank of the main power lever that wired the ship to life, and then lightning-fast pace of typing the coordinates and prepping the ship for hyperspace both at the same time. BD-1 noticed another team of Stormtroopers flooding the hangar and shooting the ship, he alerted Cal in a string of frenzied trills.

“I know, BD, I see them!”

He turned the analog stick of the guns in the direction of the Stormtroopers and sent them flying in a single blast. Not wasting a moment’s notice, Cal hovered the ship and made the jump to lightspeed as soon as he got enough altitude from the crumbling fortress.

“Boo, woop?”

“It’s okay now, BD. We’re going home.”

Cal caressed little BD’s head, profusely apologizing to what he did to his first friend and even touched the little droid’s flat, rectangular head with his forehead.

#cal kestis #cal kestis fic #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x reader fic #dark side! cal kestis #dark side! cal kestis fic #inquisitor! cal kestis #inquisitor! cal kestis fic #dark side #dark side of the force #star wars #star wars fic #sw #sw fic #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order fic #swjfo #sw jfo #swjfo fic #sw jfo fic #jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order fic #jfo #jfo fic #inquisitor #inquisitorius #the grand inquisitor #fluff #redemption arc #redemption

[theholycovenantrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, MAI! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF ABADDON.

Admin Cas: Where to begin with this firecracker of an app, Mai? Abaddon is full of complexities, but that didn’t pose a problem for you: you captured every single one of them to perfection. The way you described how she clung to her divinity in Hell, even as she felt it rotting inside of her, was truly *chef’s kiss*. There was so much to admire about your application — the clear development you have planned for Abaddon, the way you expanded on her relationship to her pseudo-family of demons without diminishing any other part of her, the balance of her divinity and her profanity — but I think the standout for me were your writing samples. She’s so level-headed, so elegant, and I’m completely in love with her and this whole application. I’m so excited to see what you do with her! Your faceclaim change to Nazanin Boniadi has been approved. Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | mai.

Age | twenty-four.

Personal Pronouns | she/her.

Activity Level | 6/10. i work and am in grad school full time, so my activity varies depending on my workload for the week, with end of fiscal quarter and midterms/ finals being the busiest, though i try to post a reply every 2-3 days. i’m pretty much always on my phone though, so i respond to messages quickly!

Timezone | est.

Triggers | REMOVED.

How did you find the group?  | rosey!

Current/Past RP Accounts | kenna

IN CHARACTER

CHARACTER | abaddon. & i would like to change her fc to nazanin boniadi! 

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER? | 

my libra ass saw the light/ dark conflict and said BET. but actually — i’ve always been obsessed with the concept of DUALITY and the fragility of the line that exists between two extremes (a line that is very much jagged, drawn with shaky hands into the sand; too easily, too inevitably erased by the violence of the tides). this quote i especially love: 

“the distinction between holy & heresy was always

a question of fire: the distinction between whore & saint lies

in who’s burned for it — the distinction between martyr & false

god lies in whose testimony is set ablaze”

with abaddon, there is the obvious light and dark conflict: the war between her angel and demon sides. but there are also more subtle dualities: her roles as a mother and jailer (and even within this, guard and executioner); her loyalty to God and affection for the great betrayer; the righteousness she brandished against raphael yet acceptance of soul’s damnation. she’s a mess of contradictions, a wildfire contained in a matchstick; a rose flooded with blood.

abaddon’s biography also reminded me of a conversation i had with rosey. i asked how she chooses her characters, and rosey said it was easy: she likes to take characters that live behind the curtain and polish them until they shine. this was a revelation for me, as most of my characters are larger than life: with the precision and heat of a single beam of light or the ferocity and tragedy of a monster who eats their own heart. always in the forefront. it was why abaddon captured my attention. not because she is a background character, but because she chooses to be. she is the maternal figure; the one who quietly deigns to pass judgement with nothing more than a cool flash of her eyes. at least, outwardly. i view her as the margaery tyrell type — subtly calculating, biding her time and moving pieces behind the scenes when no one’s watching. tugging strings gently. 

doubtless, she carries love in her heart. love and tenderness — and she wields them like a finely crafted weapon. (gotta love that #range). it is very much an exchange, though the vulnerability comes from a real place. as does the manipulation. 

PLOT IDEAS

THE SELF.

i like to call myself wound

but i will answer to knife.

keeper of the black cells | many millennia spent in hell and still shining gold. bloodstained gold, perhaps. but gold nonetheless. and how did she do it? i struggle not to sigh as i type, she followed god. but really, that’s the answer. because even as she rose within the ranks of the demons; even as hell easily latched onto her soul, a beast with all claws and no shape, a beast that looked like her; that tried to eat its way out from the inside, abaddon clung to her divinity. she accepted the punishment given to her; she became her own executioner. and within the abyss then the black cells, even as she is able to walk through without chains, abaddon is the oldest prisoner of them all. because even as she doles out torture with nothing more than indifferent press of her lips, she allows herself to feel. there is the guilt, resting upon the rust of the chains that tear apart limb. there is the recoil, the violent churn of her stomach as blood mingles with air until her vision is spilt wine. and then there is the pain — her own pain — as if it is her flesh she is slicing apart. as if it is her joints being separated from limb. 

but as with everything for abaddon, there is a duality. for as much as she is a prisoner, she is a KING. she owns the black cells. she’s its keeper; its protector. its mother. the black cells are her territory, and i think it is very much on purpose. i think abaddon gives out punishments as often as she gives out scraps of tenderness. it is she who paints the darkness, but it is also she who gives light, with the knowledge that a man dying from thirst will close his eyes in reverence as a single drop of water lands upon his tongue. the prisoners bend to the sound of her steps prowling the stone halls, equal parts devotion and fear within their black hearts (hearts that they are all too willing to carve out of their chests at her will). i love entertaining the idea of abaddon using the  cells for her own purposes, whether it is seeking out information to stay in the loop with what is happening in every corner of the land, to an insurance policy, if anyone were to catch her ire (looking at you, judas). 

dmitri | her heart is half darkened, half rotten. yet whenever her gaze meets with his, the drumming in her pulse turns to something tidal. and in the waves: potential. i think dmitri is the key to the reconciliation between the two opposing sides of abaddon. after all, they are a creature wrought from calamity, yet they still shine molten gold, and she can’t help the comfort and exhilaration she feels in their presence, as if discovering her reflection for the first time, awed by the glory yet frightened by the carnage. 

maybe, in another world, this could have been a love story. but it’s not. more likely, i see the potential for abaddon dragging dmitri further into the darkness — judas has plans for them, after all, and abaddon’s loyalty rests with her makeshift family. (but that begs the question: is she then choosing to damn herself along with him? is she choosing to forsake the light within her — the balance within her — for the only love she has ever known? for family? and is that not another sort of light? a different sort of divinity?)

THE DEMONS.

“you can turn around in the dark, 

with the man who wants your heart looming so big, 

so big over you, and you can give it to him, 

so bright and red and pure that it destroys him.”

the mother | i think it is very possible that the demons seek out abaddon before judas or damien. she is more gentle, more kind, more approachable. and less likely to slit their throats in one move (though let’s hope they remember to guard their hearts, too). and for her part, abaddon plays into this image. she listens to their concerns, often abstaining from comment; but there is something to be said for the steadfast gaze in which she regards them, the way the smoke clears from their lungs as she fixes them with her serene, though cool, eyes. it’s not love. but there’s a tenderness all the same, a mother’s sweetness; honey given to an ailing child — even if the honey is dripping off a knife. even if the mother has her own plans. 

judas |

it’s something like a waltz. 

loyalty to the great betrayer. the irony is not at all lost on her. 

he had been there, when she fell. and some days, she wonders if he had not been waiting, for how quickly she had taken to him, even when their companionship felt too much like holding onto a switchblade that cuts before it opens — but this, she reasons, is different sort of knife; terrible and beautiful and coated with poison at the hilt. abaddon is, after all, too accustomed to the spill of her own blood; to the moments when she stitched herself back together with nothing more than the fevered faith of a child looking up at the moon every night, even when its face is turned away in indifference — maybe especially then. 

let him cut me then, she reasons, as she walks with judas hand-in-hand through the cells. let him try. i will give him tenderness; i will give him devotion. i will be the lamb at his altar, all delicate flesh and wide eyes. and i will wound as i am wounded; twist PRAYER into PREY. 

the child waits. the moon blooms blood red. 

many thoughts… head full. at first glance, one might be tempted to label abaddon as the antithesis to judas. he betrayed god. she clings to her devotion. he destroys. she nurtures. he is the snake within the tall grasses. and abaddon? nowhere to be found (and maybe that’s because she is the grass — ever present and plainly within sight, swaying to the wind, both everywhere and nowhere at once; a place of sanctuary until it becomes the unfurled curtain). i would argue, however, that they’re more alike than you might think. 

when she had first been hurled into hell, she’d grieved. she’d fallen, and the faces that stared back at her wore smiles that she couldn’t discern from snarls, lips pulled back and teeth gleaming white against the shadows that clung to their frames (the same shadows she would come to wear like glorified battle scars). yet, for as far as she had fallen, ABADDON WOULD ASCEND. and judas played no small part. of course, she had known exactly who he was. still, she followed him, pulled towards him with the same inevitability as an apple to a bruise. from judas, she learned to tear apart skin with a tongue sharper than teeth. and then later on, that she didn’t need to open her mouth at all, for what weapon is more powerful than the hands that bear the skin? 

but he is still judas; there’s no division between where his name ends and his person begins — something abaddon has never forgotten. and as much as she learned from him, she kept her eyes wide open, just as she had when watching raphael’s ease in cruelty. and this, i think, is where abaddon sets herself apart — why it is she who is considered judas’s equal and confidant. she sees and understands exactly who he is, what he is. still, she stands beside him. (she would not kiss the ring, as so many had before her. abaddon, instead, kisses the flesh beneath.) still, she extends to him her tenderness, baring the delicate skin of her throat for him to kiss. for him to slit. it’s almost like a game — a balancing act, as everything in her life is, turning herself into a sacrifice filled with poison. and if he were to bite? (to betray her, as is etched into his nature?) he would find that it is a poison of his own making.

personally, i find the idea of judas getting betrayed by the one being he considers his confidant very sexy. the most obvious way is if he questions her loyalties and throws her into her own black cells (as mentioned in the judas app) — in which case, he has a wicked surprise coming his way. the second, more likely way, is if he harms damien or azazel (though damien is more likely). abaddon holds their makeshift family very close to her heart, for they had been the ones who made hell feel like home for her. but family doesn’t mean stability, and abaddon has long accepted the possibility of a conflict between judas and damien. i don’t even think it’s a matter of loving damien and azazel more than judas. it’s not the betrayal of the person; it’s the betrayal of their family. it’s the betrayal of her last whisper of hope for some semblance of peace and happiness within the punishment she has accepted for herself. and for that, he will not be forgiven.

THE ANGELS. 

“who am I? […] a monster among angels or angel among monsters,”

raphael | i think it’s funny that the raphael app casted him as cersei, because from the beginning i described abaddon as margaery (though i also have not watched game of thrones, so we may both be bobo the clown on this part). raphael and abaddon’s dynamic really does make me a clown, though, if not bobo. for as much as they are antagonistic to each other, circling each other like hawks, elegant and watchful, they are foils. raphael is the healer; abaddon is the punisher. yet it is he who revels in pain and she who recoils. it was he who god favored, sending the ill-fated angel with the justice to strike at him into the depths of hell. yet it was she who mourned the loss of their creator; she who desperately clung to the shreds of her divinity, of Him, while raphael sat back and watched mutiny unfold. 

but they are also similar. because it is in perfect synchronization that circle each other, as if guided by an invisible hymn for which no words exist. they are both patient — too patient, with their clever little machinations while watching the other players make their moves. poised to strike. lightning in a bottle. so what if we were to smash that bottle? 

arael | it would be too easy, to use arael as a pawn. the angel does nothing to hide the pain and desperation in her eyes as she drags another being to the cells, and even if she looks away (she doesn’t), abaddon can hear the rage that thunders in her throat as she tells her to keep going. and of course, she does. and of course, the idea artfully arranges itself on the slight arch of her brow: how natural it would feel, to create leverage. to plant false information, use arael’s wrath for her purposes? and it would be no one’s fault but her own, for letting rage blind her to the monster in front of her. yet, as quickly as the seed plants itself, the ground dries up at its feet, barren of any notion of willingness, and abaddon isn’t stomach carving arael into a weapon, as she does with her own prisoners. even as the grief melded bars that encase the angel are thicker than any within the cells. 

why? because she’s soft!! abaddon knows vulnerability well; so used is she to wielding it like a weapon. she knows the dance, the game, the exchange. yet arael had shown vulnerability without abaddon giving any at all. TO BE SEEN ALLOWS YOU TO BE HUNTED and arael had exposed herself without asking for anything in return. so as much as it is easy; as much as the possibly calls to the darkness within her heart like siren’s song, the other part, the part that loves, that understands, simply can’t get herself to manipulate arael. 

overall | i’m interested to see how abaddon interactions with all the angels, honestly. i think she definitely feels a spark of anger whenever she sees them, for their betrayal of god, and it’s ironic how the being that mourns Him most is the one He casted out of His domain. and i’m hoping that the angels try to use her as a pawn. she is, after all, within the hearts of judas and the anti-christ. and within her own heart: light. wouldn’t it be all too easy, then, to try to get her on their side? to coax information from her under the guise of her first family? 

ARE YOU COMFORTABLE KILLING OFF YOUR CHARACTER? | yes.

DRIVING MOTIVATION 

peace. stillness. she never thought she’d find it, after her descent from heaven, and she’d spent most of her days yearning for it, using the little light she had left inside of her like a candle against the darkness of hell, never recoiling from the pain as the wax melted and burned her flesh, for she deserved it — had god not decreed it so? yet somewhere along the line she’d found family. precarious, fickle family. but one she cherished all the same. it was in the companionship of judas, the intensity of damien, and the bright glow of azazel had she found a love she had never know within the ranks of the angels, even as she had called them her brethren while their creator looked down upon them with the cool judgement of a father. within the ferocity of the demons, she had found love. and i think that’s what abaddon would claim her driving motivation to be. 

i think it’s cute. fanciful. but no. 

i suppose it could be called love. or peace. but more precisely, it is labeled as CONTROL. she had sliced raphael down with her own definition of justice, despite the consequences she had known would be enacted upon her. i do think some part of it is rooted in morality and what she thinks is right and wrong, but morality only serves as the thin veneer for the control of the world around her and the sight before her eyes. 

when god had punished her, it was with acceptance that abaddon had descended, giving up control for her creator, as she views His will above her own, trusting in His judgement and the notion of balance. but had she not wrestled back that same control, as soon as her wings touched hell? had she not gripped onto the light within her, the divinity within her, with claws sprouted from her determination? she had refused to give up her agency, her identity, even as hell tried to chew her up and dismantle her heart brick by brick with all its rotten teeth. even the black cells serve as a mechanism for control — abaddon is its sole ruler, and it is with her will that punishments and tortures are enacted. even when it’s upon herself. 

so my long haul pitch is this: TAKE IT AWAY. threaten her sense of control. abaddon is too content watching behind the curtain, moving chess pieces discreetly, balancing power and molding it into her definition of peace. while that is a very fun and sexy time, i would love for her to be forced into the light she cherishes so much. to make big, impactful moves. to rise into her full power and call in the favors she gift wraps as tenderness. i want her to be driven to choose, to forsake balance. TO SMASH THE SCALES ALTOGETHER. 

CHARACTER TRAITS

(+) empathetic, diplomatic, loyal

(-) indulgent, obsessive, manipulative

I / 

She searches for Him. 

In the folds of dawn. In the hallowed darkness. 

For years she wanders during the brief moments of respite; in the space between silences while the world is made anew, taking every chance she can to escape the gazes that dance over her form, tenderness and devotion briefly landing upon her before they flit away to the other demons within her family. And for once, she wishes they would overlook her altogether — such is her desperation to find Him. Such is the love and loss that seizes what remains of her soul, grief so acute that she wonders how the others haven’t heard its echoes within the empty chambers of her heart. 

She will find Him. 

And she will hold Him within her arms, bestowing upon Him the divinity and light she has so stubbornly held onto. (The traitorous, infested part of her heart can’t help but grin at the thought; Heavenly Father casted down from his throne, just as he had done to her. Spat from above with all the care of a rotten seed of faith.) 

He will not ask for forgiveness, but She will give it anyway. 

II /

How many years has it taken for violence to become sweet? Once metallic and revolting, now familiar, comforting; like a poem known by heart, and Abaddon gives herself a moment to savor the taste, swirling it in her mouth before she knows is the time to spit it back out, lest it transform into an addiction of her own making (sometimes she wonders if it hasn’t already). Such is the price of balance. 

But the moment is interrupted, her back slammed against vibrant cobblestone, ridges pressing onto tender flesh (this, too, does not hurt as much as it thrills — as much as it comforts). 

“You were gone.” Level. Casual. Elegant, even, and her lips curve upwards as she meets the gaze of Judas, though elegance gives way to a quiet sort of rage lined within his dark eyes. It’s a warning as much as it is a privilege, his rare show of genuine emotion. 

“I was.” She waits, and she can feel the wearing of his patience. 

“Where?” A demand decorated in politeness, ever the gentleman. 

It only takes a moment’s shifting of expression; her subtle mocking of his empty decorum shifting into a confirmation of his suspicion that there is a detection in movement, Judas’s arm moving to unsheath a dagger and hold it to the base of her throat. Warmth trickles from where divine metal meets skin, but she doesn’t move away. For a moment Abaddon simply closes her eyes, wondering how it would feel to be enveloped in such warmth — even if it tastes too much like self-destruction. 

It is at the same time that she opens her eyes does her head tilt towards the dagger, lips ever so gently caressing its blade and coming away stained pomegranate. A tender kiss, not unlike any of his own. 

And she smiles before she moves, a lightning strike to match his own, wrenching the dagger from her confidant’s hand and plunging into her chest without so much as a wince of pain, her gaze never leaving his. 

“Do you doubt my loyalty, dear Judas?” 

He doesn’t answer, and she merely listens to the echoes of his retreating steps.

#accepted #accepted: abaddon

[changingourdestiny]

Beyond Light Part 5: Stasis, Secrets & Science

Summary:

Rae and friends travel beneath the ice to Bray Exoscience to locate the next shard and Praksis. But they end up learning something else regarding one of their own members...

Previous Part: Here

Next Part: Here

“To my Eliksni sisters and brothers out amongst the stars and here at home on Europa: we have suffered a great loss today. Our beloved warrior Phylaks was murdered by not only a pawn of the once ‘Great Machine’, but a human Captain of the traitors known as House Light. As always, the machine-spawns eagerly seek to eradicate us. Remember, Light only burns bright for so long, but Darkness is forever.”

 “Traitors? Like she has room to talk!”

Tif pouted as Fireteam Paralight made their way their way down through the ice towards Bray Exoscience where the pull of the next shard was leading them. “Don’t mind her.” Blaze grinned, giving the Titan a playful nudge, “She’s just salty that we beat her best warrior. If she has a problem, she can shove it up her- whoa.”

Blaze cut herself off as they entered the inside of the facility. Despite being around for centuries and buried in ice, the inside was near spotless…aside from the dark shard floating above the platform. “Ok, I still stand by the fact that Clovis is a piece of crap,” Blaze began as she looked around, “But this place looks really nice.”

“Yeah! So shiny!” Tif beamed. Rae and Marcia approached the platform where the shard was. “You mind if I go this time?” Marcia asked, “I’ve had experience with Darkness before and I wanna ensure this doesn’t have any effects on Starlight.”

“Be my guest.” Rae motioned to the shard as she stepped back, allowing Marcia to double jump onto the platform. The Nightstalker took out her splinter and walked up to the shard, holding it up like Tif did. There was a brief glow as Marcia felt herself being frozen in stasis. She closed her eyes and let it happen. As the last of her was frozen, Rae watched as Marcia suddenly burst out of the stasis with a strained yell as what seemed to be two kama blades appeared in her hands. “Whoa!” Marcia exclaimed, examining the blades, “Not bad. Not bad at all!”

“Marcia, Eliksni incoming!” Nox alerted as Marcia spotted Fallen entering from a door at the other end of the room. “Good.” Marcia smirked, “Let’s see what this power can do!” Marcia leapt up into the air and threw her first blade at a group of Fallen, freezing them in place, as the second one exploded on impact and formed a stasis form that hunted down the remaining Fallen. “Whoohoohoo!” Marcia whooped, “This is so much better than Void!” The Hunter summoned what seemed like a stasis shuriken and threw it at a group of shanks. It ricocheted off each of them, striking all of them down. Marcia landed on the ground, rolling in the process, before snapping her fingers, letting out a wave of stasis. It went straight towards a servitor, freezing it in place, before seeking out the surrounding Fallen. Marcia whipped out her rocket launcher, Bad Omens, and fired it at the frozen Fallen, shattering them into pieces. Marcia sighed with a content smirk before feeling the energy leave her once more.

  “Now that!” Marcia grinned, stretching, “That felt satisfying!”

“Marcia, that was awesome!” Tif cheered. “Man…you took out those Eliksni like it was nothing.” Blaze mused, impressed.

“Well, now that that’s taken care of,” Rae began, “I’m gonna take a look around before we head back.”

“Why? There’s not much here. Well, aside from the Exo bodies. Which are very disturbing, might I add?” Blaze asked as she cautiously walked around a robotic body that was laying on the ground. “Eramis isn’t stupid.” Rae replied, sitting at a computer, “There’s no way she wouldn’t use the remaining tech here to her advantage. Chances are we might find something of use here.”

“Knock yourself out.” Marcia shrugged as she sat on the edge of the platform, her legs dangling. Rae browsed through the remaining files on the computer. A few of them were corrupted beyond salvaging, some were just cat pictures. Her curiosity was peaked when she saw a file with the lists of faculty members for each CB site in the system, one of them being Site-6. “Hey there’s a list of staff members for Site-6 here.” Rae called to Blaze. “Cool! We get to know who the assholes were that made SIVA.” Blaze chuckled, leaning over Rae’s shoulder to look at the list as Rae scrolled through it, “Screw you, Dr. Escher Zhang. Screw you, Dr. Marnie Ziglar. Screw you especially, Dr. Wilhelmina Bray. Screw you, Dr. A-”

Blaze went silent. Rae stopped scrolling.

“Uh…you guys okay?” Tif asked from where she was sitting beside Marcia. The two were just staring in disbelief at the screen. Marcia raised an eyebrow before hopping off the platform and walking towards them, “What’s got you two so rattled?” She peered over their shoulders at the screen and her face dropped in realisation, “Oh…”

Dr. Adam Bergfalk.

“It…it can’t be, right?” Blaze chuckled nervously, “There’s…gotta be loads of people with that name.”

“Only one way to find out.” Rae muttered as the clicked the file.

 Name: Dr. Adam Bergfalk.

Age: 36.

Rank: Junior Engineer for SIVA Project.

Assigned to: SIVA Replication Complex Site-6.

Important Notes:

Please ensure Dr. Bergfalk remembers to bring is arm in for weekly maintenance and himself for weekly check-ups. Ensure SIVA has affected no other parts of his body. We don’t need it eating his head too. We need that. ~SIVA.MEM.WB

Dr. Bray, as I’ve said a million times, my arm is FINE. I appreciate the check-ups, but I would also appreciate a little more confidence in my handywork. Speaking of which, whoever graffitied my arm with permanent marker while I was asleep: jokes on you, dumhuvud! I always have a spare on hand. And no, that’s not a pun. Also, I’ll be speaking to HR about some of the ‘statements’ you wrote. ~SIVA.MEM.AB

 In the corner of the profile was a mugshot of Adam. He had a confident and determined smirk on his face – almost a contrast to the quiet yet friendly Titan Rae and Blaze knew for so long. “Adam worked for Clovis…” Rae muttered. “Does it mention anything else?” Blaze asked, “Maybe he saw what assholes they were and quit?” Rae scrolled down through the file which had research notes, information and pictures in it, some of which were pictures of him with several other scientists when he first joined, one was him in a hospital bed without his arm looking very fed up while someone who bared resemblance to him seemed to be berating him, another was of him with a wrench in his mouth while he used a screwdriver to work on his metal arm which looked different to his current one – Rae assumed this arm was a prototype. Finally, Rae came across a note at the bottom.

 NOTICE OF MIA:

Following an explosion is his lab at Site-6, Dr. Adam Bergfalk has been reported as MIA as no trace of his body has been found. Until further notice, position of Junior Engineer has been passed to his assistant, Dr. Sigfrid Bergfalk. Investigation into the accident is underway and any new information will be posted here.

 “My guess is he died in that explosion…but they didn’t find his body?” Blaze spoke. “Maybe he managed to get out after the blast but died somewhere else?” Marcia suggested.

“I can’t believe it…” Rae muttered.

“Me neither.” Blaze replied, “To think he worked on-”

“He looks so smug!” Rae laughed, catching the other two Hunters off guard, “He’d never smirk like that now. He must’ve been a pain to work with. He sounds so sassy in his notes too!”

Rae got up from where she was sitting and turned off the computer, “Well, we better get back to work. Let’s head back to Variks’s place and figure out our next move.”

“You’re…not freaked out that Adam worked for the Brays? On Siva?” Blaze asked, confused. “Why would I be?” Rae replied with a smile, “That Adam died ages ago. He’s definitely not the Adam we know now. It doesn’t matter who he was, it’s who he is now.”

Blaze seemed surprised, her voice leaving her. “Hey!” Tif called over to the trio, “I just got a message from Variks! He says our next target is somewhere here in the facility!”

“C’mon, we got a house to tear down.” Rae smiled as she got her gun at the ready and continued into the labs. “Who he is now…” Blaze muttered as she subconsciously reached to where her ring once hung around her neck before smiling and following Rae alongside Tif and Marcia, feeling reassured.

“Brig incoming!”

“TRAVELLER’S CRACK!!!”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “I have seen what power has done to Eramis. But…perhaps you are different. Perhaps there is hope. Praksis. He is the visionary mind behind Eramis’s technology. He wrings power from the Darkness itself. But Variks was not privy to his secrets, his experiments. You must discover how he creates these dark weapons…and stop him.”

 “I…hate…BRIGS!” Blaze growled as she tried to catch her breath, the remains of the giant brig smouldering on the platform. “No, no, no…” Praksis’s voice came through the comms, “Troubling. Embarrassing. I must keep this from Eramis. The data must be clean.”

“D’aww! Is he embawwassed that the wittle Guardians twashed his science pwoject?” Marcia cooed before laughing. “Yeah, antagonise the Eliksni in charge of Eramis’s weapons. That’ll end well.” Rae sighed. “Relax! We’ll be fine! Let’s go!” Marcia took off towards the entrance at the back of the room when…

*BA-BOOM!!!*

“Guardian down.” Nox announced as Marcia’s body was thrown across the room by the explosion, “There were tripwires.”

Praksis could be heard laughing through the comms as Nox revived Marcia who then got to her feet. Rae started laughing, “Now you can’t give me slack for the time I triggered Drifter’s tripwires when you fell for the same trap!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Marcia groaned as she stretched, “Let’s just go kill Eramis’s head nerd already.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “We should be nearly there.” Rae called out as the fireteam traversed the halls of Bray Exoscience.

“Hang on! I’m almost there!”

Rae, Blaze and Marcia turned around to see Tif slowly approaching them on what seemed like a roomba – similar to the ones Rae saw on Titan. “Really?” Marcia smirked, raising an eyebrow. “What? They’re cool!” Tif grinned, “And strong. I’m wearing a good bit of armour and this can still carry my weight no problem.”

“Well, you are pretty small.” Marcia chuckled.

“Am not! I’m 5 ft 6!” Tif pouted, “I’m not that much smaller than you!”

Marcia laughed, “I’m just messin’ with ya, Tif.”

Tif stuck out their tongue before hopping off the roomba and following the others further down the hall.

“Hey, Rae?” Tif asked.

“Yep?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, since you and Variks mentioned him before, but who’s Cayde-6? He’s an Exo, right?”

Rae nodded, “He’s the Hunter vanguard and my boyfriend. He and his Ghost died in the Prison of Elders, but I was able to save him with an ability Paralians have.”

“Awesome!” Tif beamed, “My girlfriend’s a Hunter too. She’s super cool!”

“Wait. You have a girlfriend?” Blaze asked, seeming surprised. “Yup!” Tif replied happily, “Her name’s Azara. But I call her Azzy and she calls me Tiffy! She looks scary and mean but she’s super nice and cool! She likes being in the wild and sometimes visits me at Misraaks’s skiff when she’s passing through. One time, I was about to get blasted by an ogre and she picked me up and saved be before I got exploded. She’s really strong and she’s so fast! It felt like we teleported when she saved me. I love her so much!”

Rae couldn’t help but smile as Tif talked about their girlfriend. Their eyes were practically twinkling, and the smile never left their face. “You two must love each other very much.” Blaze noted. “Of course!” Tif grinned, “I’d do anything for her, and she’d do anything for me too! Right now she’s in the Tangled Shore investigating some Eliksni that were acting weird. I’ll be joining her once I finish up here.”

“Well, let us know if you ever need backup. We’d love to meet her.” Rae smiled.

“I will! She’d love to meet you too!”

 The fireteam arrived in a large room with a catwalk leading to an odd, spherical object. As they approached the catwalk, Praksis’s laugh cut them off as he came flying in on a Shank that exploded as he landed before them. “Well that was an entrance.” Rae muttered. “Eramis does not permit errors, so I will not fail.” Praksis growled as he got is gun at the ready. “What a coincidence!” Marcia gave a dark grin as she activated her super, a void bow appearing in her hands.

“Neither do I.”

 To Be Continued…

#Changing our Destiny #rae drakyx #blaze kiria #marcia wyverk #tif kariuki #fireteam paralight #destiny ghost #ghost #variks #variks the loyal #destiny 2

[toloveawarlord]

Behind the Times (Ch.1)

You can find my Masterlist in my bio!

“Where is it? Come on!” Aspen muttered, checking under yet another rosebush for her lost item. Her day had ended on a strange and painful note, all because she took a detour through St. James Park instead of her usual route home. A night patrolman had spooked her, and she strayed off the beaten path to avoid detection. Jail time was not on her agenda.

One moment, Aspen had been snaking around a large Oak tree, and the next, the ground bathed in moonlight had fallen out from under her, sending her spiraling down a seemingly endless void. A rosebush broke her not so graceful fall. Even after crawling out, thorns still stuck into her skin, in places she could not reach on her own.

There!

The item she desired rested safely beneath the twisted branches of the bush. Her sigh of relief caught in her throat as the glint of metal next to her neck caught her eye. Aspen craned her head around and followed the length of the sword up to its owner.

The man’s intense gaze nearly stopped her heart. “Citizens are not permitted in the garden. State your name and intention,” he demanded. His crisp white uniform had to be a military one, but none like she had ever seen. Narrowing his amber eyes at her hesitation, he pressed the cold blade against her neck, a silent warning.

Aspen gulped. He definitely meant business. “Aspen Lancaster, and currently trying to reach my cell phone.” Was he a cosplayer? Just messing with her? The sword looks real. So real that she couldn’t bring herself to ask him on the off chance that he decided to murder her for talking back.

“Your what? How did you get in here? This is for military officers only, and high-ranking ones at that.”

Aspen tilted her head to the side, away from the blade. “I have no idea where here is so—”

“Is this what you’ve lost?” A second man interrupted, wearing a slightly different, but ultimately from the same group, uniform. In his hand was her phone, no cracks in the screen.

“Yeah, actually.” She hadn’t even heard him approach, let alone dig it out from under the bush. The only thing left to find was the satchel that she’d lost in the fall as well.

“Edgar. We have more important matters. I’ll only ask once more. How did you get in here?” He asked, straightening the sword in her direction once again. It was unheard of for anyone to enter the garden, especially when the two armies had only concluded their meeting a mere half hour ago.

Aspen glanced down at the blade. “I took a thousand-meter fall into a rosebush. It’s a wonder I’m not dead. Can you stop pointing that at me?” She asked. Real or not, it was sharp and threatening enough to keep her immobile.

“You expect us to believe that?”

Edgar raised his gaze from the device back to her. “Now, Jonah, let’s be civil about this. I don’t know many who would throw themselves into an actual rosebush for a simple lie.” He took her hand to help her stand, steadying her before asking, “What is this device?”

Aspen glanced between the two officers. “You don’t know what a cell phone is?” She started to laugh, softly and forced, but their confusion cut it off. They had to be cosplayers, and damn good ones at that, not breaking character even once.

“You’re very strange,” Jonah said, returning his sword to its sheath. He had no intentions of letting her leave but deemed her unthreatening enough to put his weapon away.

“You’re the one carrying swords,” she retorted. Staring at them a moment longer, Aspen decided to play along, explaining the phone as best she could. “It does a lot of things. Smartphones are crazy cool. It has thousands of apps you can download. It can play music, take pictures…” She trailed off, watching the confusion spread deep across their features. “You really don’t know, do you? Are you some kind of anti-tech groupies?” Heathens. Who doesn’t like technology? It’s so convenient. Jokingly, she muttered, “What century is it?”

Jonah answered with his scowl deepening, “The 19th.”

“Huh?” Aspen blinked. He wasn’t actually supposed to answer… or answer with an absurd century that wasn’t her own. He sure looked serious though. “What the fuck is going on?”

“A lady shouldn’t use such language if she wants to find a suitor,” Jonah chastised. His eyes raked over her, a hint of blush on his cheeks. He hadn’t noticed her strange attire until now. The amount of skin that she was showing made him quite uncomfortable. Her top must have shrunk, covering only half of her torso, and he couldn’t figure out what kind of undergarment she wore that loosely hung around her hips and fell to the tops of her thighs.

Aspen nearly stumbled back when Jonah thrust his jacket at her, demanding her to wear it. “But why-”

“How indecent,” Jonah muttered, the heat still present on his cheeks. “Have some self-respect.”

“How about you throw out your outdated opinions?” Aspen replied but slid her arms into the jacket none the less. The temperature had dropped, and a cool breeze drew goosebumps across her skin. On her small frame, the jacket was much too large, but very warm. “Though, I guess I’m the outdated one… postdated? Ugh.” She rubbed her stomach, a soft grumble at her words. “What I wouldn’t give for postmate.”

Edgar propositioned her with a tempting offer. “Why don’t you come along with us back to our headquarters, and we’ll treat you to a warm meal. You can tell me more about this smartphone. I’m very interested to learn more.”

“How do I know you two aren’t psychopaths who want to murder me?”

“You have our word, as the Queen and Jack of Hearts. That is plenty reason enough,” Jonah said, an almost crazy amount of pride in his voice.

Aspen tilted her head slightly. “Those titles mean nothing to me.” She couldn’t find any ill-will behind the invitation, and if they were murderers, then they probably would have killed her already. This is a secluded spot. Though, the odds of coming back from a secondary location were slim.

Edgar chuckled lightly, finding her to be the most interesting thing to come to Cradle. “You’ll only get your item returned to you after we’ve had a longer chat. So, I believe it’s in your best interest to cooperate.” His kind tone didn’t match the clear threat underneath.

She couldn’t very well just take the phone back. Her strength equaled that of a toddler. Plus, swords. “Fine, but only because getting a new phone is damn expensive.” Her head turned to scan the garden. “But I also lost my bag-”

“We’ll have someone search for your other things. This way,” He motioned for her to follow after him, leading her out of the building with Jonah close behind.

Aspen stopped so abruptly that Jonah narrowly missed running into her. The streets were lively, even this late at night. Many things had caused her to freeze. Their clothes were old fashioned. Horses were being ridden. Horses were hooked to carriages. The fountain looked to be the only normal piece, save for the large glowing crystal that by all accounts was floating. What fresh hell is this place?

“What’s the matter now?” Jonah asked, drawing all the attention of those around them.

All eyes were on her, whispering and pointing.

This didn’t make any sense. The entire town couldn’t be cosplayers. “What century did you say it was again?” Aspen asked hesitantly, taking a step back only to smack into Jonah. This is impossible. Insane. She had completely lost her mind.

“The 19th. We should have Kyle examine you. You’re beginning to look hysterical, not to mention the cuts and thorns from your self-proclaimed fall,” Jonah said, putting his hands on her shoulders to guide her forward. Only a few paces away, two horses were tied, beautiful saddles adorning their backs.

“Oh hell no,” Aspen muttered. Her escape was effectively blocked with Jonah’s fingers digging into her shoulders to keep her from moving. Edgar had his watchful eye on her as well, as if daring her to try and run. And where would she go? This most certainly wasn’t the London she knew. “Nope. I am not getting on a moving animal. Human kind didn’t destroy the environment and create manual automobiles for me to have to ride a horse.”

“You don’t have a choice. You’ll be riding with me,” Jonah announced. He’d already hoisted her up into the air and placed her on the saddle before she could attempt to get away.

The horse shifted its weight. Aspen clung onto the horn of the saddle, her body slipping backwards. It’s not even moving yet! Her squeal of terror cut short as Edgar steadied her from behind. Saddles are slick.

Edgar couldn’t help the laughter that broke out as he gently pushed her back up. “The more you move, the easier it is to fall off.”

“I didn’t move! The barn animal did!” Aspen shot him a glare over her shoulder.

Jonah mounted the horse behind her, caging her in with his arms as he gripped the reigns. “I’m not going to let you fall, so calm down,” he said. The cool tone of reassurance had her racing heart calming in seconds. “My title may not have meaning for you, but I promise that no harm is going to come to you while you’re a guest at our headquarters.”

Each step the horse took, made her body more tense. “Why do you care?” She asked, casting a suspicious glance up at him. Her hands were tightly gripping the material of his sleeve, afraid to let go.

“I could see how frightened you were when we exited the Garden. However you got there, whatever your intentions might have been, it’s clear that you aren’t familiar with this area.” Jonah stared straight ahead as he spoke softly enough that no one else could hear. “But don’t expect any special treatment from me,” He added swiftly at the end.

He’s very contrary. “You’re actually really nice, aren’t you?”

Jonah turned his nose up, but the hint of pink on his cheeks gave away the truth. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Aspen bit back a laugh. Though still filled with fear and worry, she felt at ease for the first moment since she collided with a rosebush.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am in love with Aspen. I wanted to try a less serious fic series with a more humorous element to it. I didn’t have a suitor in mind for her when I started but I’m leaning toward Jonah now.

#a meme queen #watch her draw memes and explain them to the minty boi #jonah clemence #edgar bright #aspen lancaster #one of us #ikemen revolution #ikerev

[luv4fandoms]

Of Wood and Steel-CH1.

So this story was originally inspired by this post from @tolkien-fantasy that I agree 100% with lol.

So here is chapter 1 of my story, you can also find it on ao3 if you prefer reading there.

I do not own the canon characters, but I do own Elizabeth, Abby, Benjamin, and Thistle.

Part 2

Chapter 1- Coming home again.

Warnings- None

Word count-2,078

The song used in the story can be found here

“Go Belstram I'll hold them off!” I yelled to the young man beside me, though we were so close, our voices were faint amongst the roar of our enemies.

“I can't leave you here Elizabeth!” He yelled back, stabbing yet another foe.

“You have to! I'll hold them off, you complete our mission! Now go!” I yelled, pushing further into the throw of enemies, if their attention was on me, Belstram could escape easily. My axe came in contact with enemy after enemy, one blow after another as I watched the crowd begin to thin, but it was not without price. My body began to tire of blocking blows from every angle, and just as I sidestepped one sword, I had to block another. But alas...A sweet sound rang through the air, one louder than the roar of enemies I found myself amongst...The victory horn.

“Not again!” One of the men cried out, all of our weapons lowering, the ones who had “died” stood from their fallen places upon the ground, some mumbling curses, some patting my shoulder and saying “good game”, yes, good game.

“Who knew capture the flag could be so brutal” my friend Abby or “Ava” as she was known in our larp group, said as she walked up to me, water bottle in hand.

“Well when we both want to win,I suppose it can get competitive” I laughed, nodding my thanks as I took the bottle and drank.

Benjamin or “Belstram” soon came jogging up to us while we made our way back to our camp.

“You did it!” Abby cheered, jumping into her boyfriend's arms.

“I had to protect my queen, if they would have gotten our flag, they would have gotten you” He replied before leaning down to kiss her.

“Please excuse me, your majesty, I must go before I lose my lunch” I laughed while making my way to the woods for our next game.

“Are we 23 or just 5 Elizabeth?” Abby called after me, laughter in her voice.

“I don't know, are we 23 or 15?” I called back before disappearing into the brush. Abby and I had been friends for several years, but it's only the past three years that I have been part of her LARP scene. The factions that usually partook in the event were the Orcs, Humans, Dwarves, and Elves…Abby, or rather, “Ava” is the Elvish queen, and though my character is only human, I am in the Elvish faction, though you will find other races scattered amongst the other factions, except the Orcs...Nor will you find any Elves on the Dwarf faction and vice-versa.

Games usually consisted of all out battles, Capture the flag, Raids, and my favorite...Quest of Glory. A game where the brave follow quests given to them by “NPCs” where they must battle a tiered party member before advancing...Why is this my favorite? Simple, as a high ranking party member, I'm the last they battle before going to Abby, and it's rare that people get that far, So I get to rest.   

Climbing into my claimed spot, aka a 100 year old tree that resided on the oldest trail in our state park, I made myself comfortable and waited...Maybe drifting off into a light sleep.

“The journey's over; another's just begun

Beneath moonlight, but by the warming sun

I seek to hold you in sunshine or rain

Beneath the heavens, I'm coming home again”

The soft tune drifted along the wind that blew past, and though I hadn't heard the voice or song before, I chalked it up to just another player singing.

“So far we drifted, like ships upon the sea

Horizons fading, we lost to destiny

Storm clouds hover; our vanity like pain

Which held back the winds that bring us home again”

The song struck a strange cord within me, it was almost...familiar...and yet I knew that I had never heard it before. I watched as scenery flashed behind my eyelids, an open field of lush green grass, small mounds adorning it, and upon closer inspection, the mounds had windows to the houses that resided inside. Next a beautiful waterfall that ran alongside a breathtaking city, finely sculptured architecture making it stand out from the trees that dotted the land...And lastly...A mountain, tall and intimidating, yet the face of it showed detailed and beautiful stonework, two large statues of dwarves flanked the entrance.

“What are these places?” my mind wondered as I stared at the scenery in my mind, but my vision was soon disrupted by another voice, this one male, a soft sweet tone that spoke in only a whisper.

“amrâlimê”  the voice was so quiet, almost as if the person didn't want to be heard, or hadn't meant to say it. But the tone was so full of longing, and a promise of happiness.

“ Could I see, now, the swallows in their flight

Watch the moon dance on oceans in the night

The trees reach upward to help the birds to fly

And of the creatures who'll hear them when they cry”

The scene changed once more, to that of a deep and dark forest, a forest that seemed old as if time itself never touched it...And yet it felt very...Alive.

“We walk the hillside like lost souls in the night

And in the darkness, we're searching for the light

And in the morning, like freshly fallen dew

Much like a moon's breath, I'm coming home to you”

From the dark of the forest a soft orange glow took over, the crackle of a fire could be heard before I swear I felt a light kiss being pressed to my cheek.

“amrâlimê”  the voice whispered again, so sincere, so full of admiration, a tone that would be reserved for a lover.

“This journey's over; another's just begun

Beneath moonlight or by the warming sun

For I remember that if my heart be true

Just like an eagle, I'm coming home to you”

A snow covered landscape came into view, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Not from the cold scenery, but from the dread that made my stomach uneasy.

“amrâlimê” The voice whispered one last time, the tone stained and faded at the end, as if spoke with a final breath.

“NO!” I yelled, bolting upward into a sitting position amongst the tree limbs.

“What?” I reached up and felt my cheek and the hot tears that rolled down it.

“No” I whispered, unable to fathom why a simple voice made my heart feel like it had been torn from my chest.

“Interesting...You saw it too” A female voice spoke, startling me and causing me to turn my head towards the voice.

“Who's there?” I asked upon not seeing anyone anywhere.

“I wonder...If you could be the one?” The voice spoke again, this time the voice came from the other side. Upon looking around, I was only met with the same forest I had been in...alone.

“Show yourself!” I demanded, standing up and balancing on the branches.

“Feisty one aren't you?” The woman giggled, the voice now in front of me as a woman stepped out from between the trees. Her pale skin was covered loosely by sheer green fabric that pooled around her bare feet, her smile and face were youthful, but the wisdom in her Lilac eyes made her appear older. Her short green hair did nothing to hide the long pointed ears, and I wondered how I hadn't seen this girl on the battlefield earlier, surely she couldn't fight much with that long of a dress.

“Who are you?” I asked, her smile only grew, and in a blink...she was in front of me. I stepped back, my hand grabbing at a branch to steady myself.

“W-What? How?”

“My name is Thistle, and I'm a forest Nymph, on a mission from Yavanna to find the one, and I think you are who I am looking for” the girl smiled.

“A forest...Yav….what?” The girl simply rolled her eyes at my confusion, as if everything she just said was the simplest thing that I should be able to grasp.

“You saw the visions did you not?” she asked, my mind flashing back to the different scenery.

“The different landscapes?” I asked, to which she happily nodded.

“Those are places in my world, if you were able to see them that means that you are connected to my world, and so far, you are the only one of your world that I have found that has seen them.

“How long have you been looking?” I asked, Thistle stopped for a moment, her finger resting on her chin while she thought.

“How old is your world again? I've honestly lost count of the years” she replied.

“Holy hell” I breathed, was this really happening? Or was I dreaming right now.

Wait.

“Whose voice was that?” I asked, remembering the soft whispers.

“Singing? That was me” she beamed before adding.

“I know, I have an enchanting voice don't I?”

“Well yes” I laughed

“But I meant the man's voice”

“Man's voice?” She asked, her expression just as confused as mine.

“Yes the man whispering that word...Am...Amra-lime...I'm not sure how to say it right.” I told her now beaming face.

“I don't know to be honest, but if you also heard a voice that surely confirms that you are indeed who I am looking for!”

“To do what?” I asked

“You have told me nothing besides your name, who sent you, and that you are here to find someone” I added.

“I...I don't know” she confessed, her smile falling.

“I was simply told to find the one and bring them to our world, that it was very important for our future” she replied, looking like a small child who had been reprimanded by a parent.

“Our?” I asked

“The forest”

“Oh”

“Please come with me, I know that you are who I have been searching for!” Thistle begged. I looked into her pleading Lilac eyes for a moment before looking around. Go to another world? My family, my home was here though...My parents...Who were always visiting family that lived out of state...My brothers who...Had their own families and lives...My friends who...I really only saw during our larp events...Oh…

“amrâlimê” That sweet whisper rang in my head, a promise that perhaps...perhaps there was a reason I always felt off in this world, perhaps my happiness was somewhere else.

“When would you like to leave?” I asked, turning back to Thistle, her pleading expression turned into one of pure glee.

“Right now would be good, just try not to scream” she replied.

“Scream? Why would I scREAM?!” I yelled as I felt the branch move out from under my feet causing me to fall backwards. I waited to hit the hard ground, but I just kept falling..Surely I should have hit the ground by now shouldn't I? So why hadn't...Suddenly a hard impact struck my back and I felt the air leave my lungs...Ah..There was the ground.

Opening my eyes I gasped for breath and noticed that I was next to the tree I had been sitting in...But I was not alone, nor was I in the same forest.

“Thistle...Who is this?” A large tree...creature spoke, his golden eyes bore into mine and as I found my lungs filling with air, I tried not to scream.

“I finally found the one!” Thistle beamed as she stood beside me.

“This is the one?” The tree asked.

“Yes Treebeard, I know she doesn't look like much, but she saw the visions..and also...she heard a voice from this world” she replied, whispering the last bit rather loudly.

“Hmm” the tree hummed as he reached out and grabbed me, the scream escaped me before I even thought about it...well..looks like I couldn't keep it in.

“Loud one isn't she?” He asked sitting me upright.

“Yeah she is” Thistle giggled before looking at the tree she called Treebeard.

“So, should we start her training now?”

“It would be wise” Treebeard stated

“After all, we only have a couple of years as of now according to Yavanna” he added

“Training?” I asked, finally finding my voice

“For what?”

“Your destiny!” Thistle smiled.

Thank you all for reading! I hope you all enjoyed the story, let me know what you think 😊

#the hobbit #fili x oc #fili #kili x tauriel #thorin x bilbo #kili #thorin #original female character #fili x human #druid #original story #chapter 1 #of wood and steel #fili imagine #fili drabble

[mrslittletall]

Title: Keeping it together (Chapter 17) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Dark Sun Gwyndolin, Silver Knights Word Count: 2.841 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328084/chapters/42025085 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/182760646054/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-16

Summary: Back in Anor Londo, Ornstein needs to get an overview.

(Author's note: Difficult chapter was difficult. Hope you like. I have to admit, this is the part of the story that hasn't sit in my head for several months now, so I have to make up stuff while I write it. Hope it is enjoyable ^^)

When Ornstein awoke, the morning sun already shone through his window. He released his comfort pillow, stretched and made his way out of bed, relieved that no nightmare had come to him this time. He made himself ready for the day, sure that a long one was in front of him, when his stomach loudly reminded him that it demanded some food.

“Oh right, I better get some breakfast.”, Ornstein murmured to himself, wondering if he could meet up with Ciaran for it, when he remembered. Oh, right, she hadn't come back with him. With a deep sigh, Ornstein finished dressing with putting on his helmet and made his way to the mess hall.

When Ornstein sat down at the table of the four knights, he felt several eyes stare into his direction. He knew the silver knights were dying for some answers, in fact, he could hear them whispering with each other. Another part of him however felt, they were staring because he was sitting alone at that table now. Granted, he had sat alone at this table for a while now, but back then everyone had assumed that Artorias and Ciaran would have come back. And then their captain had vanished too for a few days, leaving them completely in the dark. Still, he started to feel uncomfortable under their stares and whispering, it felt weird enough for him already to have returned alone, having to sit on the special table for the knights of Gwyn on his own. He tried to concentrate on his food instead, but gobbled it down too quickly in an attempt to escape this onerous atmosphere, feeling his stomach slightly cramp in protest.

The next step was the roll call for the silver knights. When Ornstein arrived, most of them had already gathered, the clanking of armour and weapons as well as their whisperings were filling the room. Ornstein walked up to his usual position, turned around and raised his voice.

“Silver knights, assemble!”, he shouted, waiting a bit for them to turn their attention to him and for the late-comers to take in their places. As he was sure that each and every silver knight was listening, he started to talk:

“It surely has already been brought to your attention, that I was called to Oolacile by Ciaran because of a grave problem that happened. And hereby I have to inform you, that sadly Artorias has fallen in battle.”

Ornstein stopped, giving the silver knights some time to process this information. He heard them gasp, whispering with each other, he had the impression he could hear some of them sobbing.

After a short while, one of the silver knights raised their voice: “Captain, how did it happen?” Ornstein could hear affirmative mumbling from some of the others.

“So, while Artorias was able to slay the beast that tormented Oolacile and save the town out of the clutches of the abyss, sadly, he also lost his life, succumbing to his injuries shortly after he succeeded his mission.”

Ornstein felt a pang in his stomach, the cramps in it feeling a bit worse. He knew he couldn't tell his silver knights the truth, they needed to look up to Artorias as a hero, not a failure. He could hear the silver knights hastily discussing with each other.

“Silence.”, Ornstein shouted, slightly annoyed and the silver knights stopped their talking at once, a bunch of winged helmets turned into his direction.

“The reason for my absence this past days has been, that I needed to attend the burial ceremony. Artorias has been gifted a grave by Oolacile and now rests in the royal garden. We have to make sure that he can rest in piece and I would like for you all to partake in a moment of silence, praying for his soul.”

Ornstein took in the prayer stance and watched from the corner of his visor that the silver knights were doing the same. A short while later, a collective “May the flames guide this soul.” sounded and the silver knights once again stared at Ornstein.

“So, because of my absence I need an overview about what happened.”, Ornstein continued. “I have put Amira and Terrick in charge, so I expect you two to give me your report before you start your duties. For the rest of you, your new orders will be given out at the evening call. You are dismissed.”

The two silver knights Ornstein had mentioned parted from the group and waited for the other silver knights to spread out. As soon as he had dismissed them, their whispering and murmuring to each other resumed. Ornstein couldn't blame them for it, it had been a lot to take in. Ornstein strolled into the direction of Amira and Terrick.

“Let's go to the conference room.”, he said to them and led the way.

“Captain.”, Amira suddenly said, “This must have been a harsh shock for you. We understand if you need some time to work through this.”

Ornstein stopped dead in his tracks, making the two almost bump into him. “I did had enough time for it already, it is time to properly get back to my duties.”, he said, but the cramps in his stomach said otherwise.

“We perfectly know how close you and Artorias were, captain.”, Terrick added. “We are just worried, that is all.”

“I am fine.”, Ornstein said, knowing what a blatant lie this was, but he banned it into the back of his head and opened the door to the conference room, taking his usual seat, while the two silver knight just stood there, looking around, unsure of what to do.

“Please, sit down.”, Ornstein said and gestured to the stools. Amira and Terrick reluctantly came forward and sat down each, her in the place of Ciaran and him in the place of Artorias. Another pang crawled into Ornstein's stomach and he started to regret that he had breakfast.

“So, I bumped into Herman yesterday and he already told me that there is quite some trouble.”, Ornstein started. “Please give me your reports.”

“Of course, captain.”, Amira said and took a bunch of papers out of her armour, Ornstein briefly wondered if she had been carrying them around this whole time, “The most trouble we have lately are the increased numbers of Undead in the human population. The curse of the dark sign has gotten more and more common, it seems. Only a small part of the undead population admit it and are going to the asylum on their own free will. The larger part hides it, often protected by their relatives and then cause havoc when they go hollow, making it very troublesome to ship them off to the asylum.”

“This is indeed a huge problem, if people don't follow the rules.”, Ornstein said. “Form teams to hunt down any hollow you can find. And I shall speak to Gwyndolin about it, so that we can ensure rules, that the human population gets checked for the dark sign.”

He sighed, continuing: “The humans probably won't like this, but we can't keep hollows letting damage our reputation and our citizens. What happened with the people who were protecting the cursed ones?”

“They faced trial and got found to be guilty and shall be executed to death. They are in the dungeons now, the executioner Smough is ready to do his job, but a authoritarian figure was missing for it, cause our Lord Gwyndolin refused to attend them. So it would be good if you could talk to the executioner as soon as possible, the dungeon has gotten quite full lately.”

Ornstein sighed again, it wasn't a secret that he and the executioner didn't like each other a lot. And how would he react now, that Ornstein came back alone, after been denied the ranks of the four knights of Gwyn for so long? Ornstein knew he was strong enough and he must possess a special soul, cause the executioner was living as long as Ornstein was now. Still, with his cannibalistic behaviour, Ornstein just couldn't let him join the ranks of the four knights. Even though they were down to only him now.

“At least that means Smough won't go hungry.”, Ornstein said with a grim face, noticing the two silver knights staring at each other for a second. “I have been noted that demon's have wandered into the Burg from Lost Izalith. What are the black knights doing?”

Terrick and Amira share another look and this time Terrick began to speak: “Like you know, most of the remaining black knights have taken it to themselves to fight the demon threat directly in Izalith. However, lately we didn't had any reports from them, so we can only assume the worst... The remaining black knights have gone searching for their missing comrades, but none of them has returned yet. Thus is why the demon threat in the Burg hasn't been taken care off yet.”

“This is really troublesome.”, Ornstein murmured. “Demon's may not be very intelligent, but they are fearsome foes. I should take care of this one personally. And if there hasn't been a report in a week, we have to make sure to find out what happened to the remaining black knights.”

“So you are going to fight the demon on your own, captain? I will give you the exact location of its sighting later then.”, Terrick said.

“Yes, I am used to fight huge foes anyway, it is easier going on my own than lead a troop of silver knights against it.”, Ornstein said. “Anything else to report?”

“Yes, we have trouble with the dark wraithes in New Londo, terrorizing the citizens there.”, Amira took up the word again. “We were hoping for Sir Artorias to take care off this problem once he returned, but...”, she trailed off.

Ornstein felt his stomach cramp up once again and now a bout of nausea washed over him too. It had only been a few days and this much trouble had occurred. At least he couldn't complain that it would get boring for him.

“Normally Artorias would take care of this threat, you are right.”, he murmured more to himself before raising his voice. “We need some scouting work in New Londo, find out where and when the dark wraithes normally strike. Make sure to get relief supplies to New Londo and every citizen who searches shelter shall be welcome here, but search them for the dark sign first.”, Ornstein ordered. “Oh, I just remembered, we need relief supplies for Oolacile too. Can you make sure that some are getting send there?”

“Noted, captain. We shall make sure to fill out your orders.”, Amira said. “That should have been all. Apart of the paperwork of course. Shall I get it to your room?”

“Yes, please.”, Ornstein nodded, internally groaning at the paperwork. Usually Artorias would help him out with it, cause of his handwriting. But Artorias wasn't there anymore... “And... find the silver knight with the nicest handwriting and give me their name.”, he added.

“As you wish.”, Amira and Terrick both stood up and bowed to him. “Can we go back to our duties now?”

“Yes, you are dismissed.”, Ornstein said absentminded while watching the two silver knights leaving a room. He had a lot on his mind right now. He probably should go talk to Gwyndolin first, they surely were worried about him and he should inform them about the talk he had with his silver knights. Ornstein left the room, but was stopped on his way when he he felt a presence in the hallway.

“No need to hide yourself, come out.”, he shouted and the lord's blade revealed herself.

“Sir Ornstein, you surely happen to know about Lady Ciaran's whereabouts.”, she said.

Ornstein swallowed. A thing he nearly forgot. He had to tell the lord's blades the truth about Ciaran's decision. He braced himself when he opened his mouth: “Ciaran told me that she is not coming back. The lord's blade are hereby disbanded. You are all free to go where you want.”

The woman just stared at him, he could feel it even through her mask, the sense of disbelief, but she recovered quickly: “If that is the wish of our Lady Ciaran, then I will tell the other lord's blades. Farewell, dragon slayer.”

“Maybe I can ask Gwyndolin if you can serve as their dark moon blades.”, Ornstein said but the lord's blade had already been gone. Ornstein's stomach ache tightened and his nausea intensified in a way that he had to stop and take a few deep breathes.

“Keep it together.”, he murmured to himself, slowly trotting to the Dark Moon Tomb where he was let in by Gwyndolin, who awaited him at the end of the hallway sitting in a chair.

“Ornstein, since when are you back? You should have send a message.”, they said.

“...Sorry, I... forgot.”, Ornstein averted his gaze and stared at the floor, trying to concentrate on a pattern in it. Why hadn't he thought about sending a bird to inform Gwyndolin about everything? He blamed the whole burial ceremony stress for it.

“How was the burial ceremony?” Gwyndolin raised their catalyst and conjured a second chair next to them, gesturing at Ornstein to sit down on it, which he did.

“Everything was going exactly as planned. It was a wonderful ceremony and Artorias has gotten a wonderful grave. Princess Dusk and I have hold a speech for him both. His soul surely is on the way to Nito now. Sif stayed at his grave. And so... did Ciaran.”

Even though Gwyndolin's eyes were covered by a mask, Ornstein could see their surprise. He knew them long enough now. It was the way they shifted, the tiny gasp he heard and the way their snakes withdrew.

“I want to say that I am not surprised.”, they started. “But that would be a lie.”

“I know.”, Ornstein said. “I was convinced she would return with me to the cathedral.”

“What about the lord's blades?”

“She said to me to disband them. Before I came here I met one of them and delivered her message. I wanted to ask if they would be able to serve as your dark moon blades, of course only if they want to.”

Gwyndolin seemed to consider it. “Yes, they could serve as my dark moon blades. After all, since my father and my sister left, there haven't been many political enemies we had to take care off. And for every sinner I have the dark moon blades ready. I guess Anor Londo doesn't has a need for assassin's anymore. I will submit my offer to them.”

Both of them fell into silence after this. Both of them knew that Anor Londo wasn't anymore what it once had been. That since Lord Gwyn left, it had lost a lot of its glory. Gwyndolin was doing their best, Ornstein knew it, but he also knew, that there was another reason for Ciaran not coming back. She had given up on Anor Londo, while he still hold onto some faint hope.

“So, any reports?”, Gwyndolin asked.

“Yes.”, Ornstein said. “I have ordered the silver knights to send relief supplies to Oolacile and New Londo, apparently the latter is under attack from the dark wraiths. I have also told that we would take in any refugees, but...”, Ornstein swallowed, “with the curse of the dark sign and the trouble it brought, we can't let the human population go unsupervised anymore. We have to check every human who comes in for the dark sign.”

“Once Anor Londo was home to many deities and divines, but a lot of them left sadly, so that we have to rely on the human population to fill out the gaps... with the curse we surely can't let them go unsupervised anymore.”, Gwyndolin said. “But which forces should we use to control the borders? The silver knights are struggling with their tasks, a lot of them left with my sister. Maybe you should think about recruiting some more?”

“If anyone still wants to be a silver knight. I will make sure to get some recruit posters plastered over town.”, Ornstein sighed. “Well, I better go now, there have been demon sightings in the burg and I wanted to take care of it personally.” Ornstein stood up from the chair which promptly vanished. “I will come back to visit once I have time.”

As Ornstein was on his way out of the tomb, he heard Gwyndolin's voice behind him: “Ornstein, are you alright?”

He turned around, looked at them, his stomach cramping with pain, forced a smile, forgetting that he was wearing his helmet and just said: “Don't worry, I am fine.” (Author's note: “Stomach aches? Nausea? Nightmares? I don't know what you are talking about, I am completely fine.” - Dragon Slayer Ornstein) Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/183025659429/title-keeping-it-together-chapter-18

#dark souls #fanfiction #dragon slayer ornstein #dark sun gwyndolin #silver knights #littlewritesstuff #oh no I gave the silver knights names! #it won't take long and they have family and a backstory! #what have I done?

[kpop-ruined-my-social-life]

Crown | Ch. 2

→ Ch. 1

→ Pairing:  Kihyun X Female Reader

→ Author’s Note: Crown is back! Also if you haven’t seen my new posting schedule you should definitely look at it. 

→ WC: 1.6K

→ Authors Note: You’re going to think something happened, but it didn’t. If you read carefully you’ll know who it was.

→ POV: First Person

→ Rating: PG-16

→ Contains: Mentions of loss, a battle, mentions of anxiety, and wounds (from battle, nothing deep in explanation) 

→ AU:  Royal!AU - Arrogate Crown Prince!Kihyun and servant!Reader

→ Requests: Open

→ Masterlist

Previously 

“Dear Cutie,

I know I didn’t get to properly tell you goodbye this morning, and I also wasn’t able to tell you when I expected to see you again.

Meet me at 10 in the evening, bring me tea as a cover up, but make sure to bring two cups.

I’ll see you then,

Your Prince.”

I sighed a bit before I put it back into my pocket. Later in the evening, during his private tutoring session I came to bring him tea, and a little notes from my self under his cup. I held a serious expression and he unfolded it and kept it hidden in the pages of his book as the tutors were busy reading the papers he had just handed in.

“Prince,

I will gladly bring you tea, as one should if it is a crown prince’s order.

Awaiting your orders.”

He looked behind his shoulder a bit and at me with serious eyes, he clicked his tongue before grabbing a sheet of paper and writing extremely large in the center.

“10 in the evening. An order.”

He looked back at me again, knowing I had read it. I bowed my head and I walked to the door.

I walked down the hall way to his majesty’s chamber, before I heard an alarm sound. Soon the hall was filled with servants and guests alike, all quickly moving to the hidden safety chambers that were under the castle. I followed one of the fellow servants down to the kitchen before filing into the hidden chamber. 

A red light sat above the door, blinking. If it turned green we could exit back into the palace, if it turned white then we would have to evacuate through the hidden corridors. No one knew what was going on, some were shaking, some were crying, and some of us were complete silent.

“Does anyone know whats going on?” I asked a maid, Mina, she began working here around the same time I did. She shook her head before someone moved close to us and began to whisper, a cook named Hyunmin. 

“Apparently, some of the masters of the court and trying to overthrow his majesty. The king had them shut down this rumor and began investigations, but we think that is whats going on. Overthrown by force.” He whispered, as even talking of such things could get you charged with treason if the wrong person heard and twisted your words.

I nodded before I looked down at my feet, moving closer to the wall and more people flooded in before the door was shut and the vault type lock was finally in place. We all sat back finally, although it was stuffy, it still felt like a slight breath of relief. One of the guards who had just filed in had a slight stain of red on his collar. We all noticed but none dared to say anything to him.

“I’m sure you are all wondering what is going on, I was instructed to stay in one of the group safety chambers in case this happened, and in case it goes any further and the need arises to leave through the underground corridors.” He said before plopping down on the ground slightly and sighing as he finally caught his breath. “This is not an overthrow of his majesty the king, but rather worse.” He said softly and slightly panting still.

“As everyone in this room knows, having been in the palace for long, the other sons of the king are simply illegitimate sons. The Crown Prince is the only heir to the thrown.” He said as he looked down. “This is not to overthrow the king, but rather to kill the heir.” He said and looked at us as some of the servants in the room gasped. I just looked down more. 

There had been many mentions of this in history, killing the heir to the thrown instead of the one who sat in it. To kill of the lineage of those who ruled the country. With the way things in this country are going, Crown Prince Kihyun is known for being better than his father, that is the only reason why his father is still in place, so when he steps down his majesty the crown prince will step up to the thrown and rule the country like he has made evident he will do very well. His father is a corrupt man, having unjust marriages with those from other countries to create ties with them and then stabbing them in the back after taking their resources, having children that are only half his, or worse adopting them purely for the politics of it. 

Never a king, more of a demon ruler that ruled what the servers in the palace liked to call his own little hell. And then there was Crown Prince Kihyun, someone who fed the people, with not just food but also knowledge, someone who was just the light that his country needed in the darkness that his devil of a father had created. 

His majesty always says “I will one day be the king, my father how ever has never been king, for a king is someone who leads his people, not simply controls them. A king is someone who assigns the right people to the right jobs when the country is in need, not simply because of their connections. Marries someone for what is good for both himself and the country. And takes care of the youth instead of treating them like cattle that you can breed, sell, and slaughter.” 

He knew that he would be king even if his father was overthrown, and those planning this attack did too. They don’t want the knew king gone in order to replace them with someone that could bring our nation back to the golden country is was in the past. They want to keep it in their own kind of darkness that will once again ruin those who will come after us. 

We all sat around and waited, the silence filling the room as well as the sound of some people whimpering and crying. The knight that was in the room by the door was now being treated for a few of his wounds that he gained while traveling to the safety chamber. I for one was staring at my two golden buttons on my skirt, one representing I was a server of the Kingdom, and the other representing I was a server of the Crown Prince. I always saw these buttons as something that would always be on me, as an honor. But at this moment, I looked around and say everyone with it. This was not an honor. It was a branding, we were owned by the kingdom.

I was pulled from my thoughts as another siren sounded, and a new color light flashed brightly as we heard a door opening. This was not a door to freedom, this was not a door back into the palace and this was not the green light we were all hoping and praying for. This light symbolized someone very important had been captured, or worse killed. 

Everyone tripped over their own feet as they ran out of the exit and into the hall that led us further underground. 

After what felt like miles of walking we met up with other groups and were reaching what felt like an exit. They opened the door to the outside and began helping people outside. As I looked at the sun from the ladder, how long had the battle been, are they still fighting, even at sunrise? I asked my self as I was helped out and soon was ushered into a room with other servers where we would await news and get rest. 

Someone had been hurt, someone important. If it was the king... the guards wouldn’t be this shaken up. If it was one of the other princes or even the princesses there would’ve already been an official report. We were pulled from our seats to head to a chamber that held bunk beds. 

As we all laid down to rest for the first time, rumors flooded the air, ‘the crown prince was the one hurt’, ‘the crown prince has been murdered’, was all that could be heard.

I stood and exited the room, hoping to find a guard to ask where the head knights were. As I walked out everyone was still getting checked to make sure they were kingdom officials, guests, or palace servants instead of someone from the village that the safe house was in. I was directed toward a small building and I quickly walked in, three knights sat, having their wounds treated. At first they looked at me as if I was in the wrong place before they saw the two buttons and bowed before going back to their seated positions.

“As the his majesty’s servant, I would like to ask if I may have permission to read over the official response before they are released.” I said and they nodded and handed me some of the papers they were handed before the alarm had sounded. I looked over them, all these were were the assumed number of those who had escaped, and those that were still fighting, as well as the ranks of those that had sadly passed. 

We heard people break out into whimpers and cries, before we ran outside quickly, looking for the commotion before finding all of the servers near the door that had led us to safety. I moved to the front with the knights I had just talked to before we say what was happening. 

One of the forgotten concubines of the king was fallen on the ground before us, none of us sure of what had happened to her, but knowing she was still with us caused me to sigh in relief. I grabbed one of the knights arm before pulling him down and whispering what to do with her. He picked her up and moved her to the room of the other servants and had a medic summoned to look at her. In her hand was found a letter, with the royal seal over it.

The knights quickly brought it to the closest official, the minister of agriculture. He found a place where he could look over everyone and wiped his eyes before he began speaking.

“Due to the battle, the royal family has lost someone very dear to the nation’s heart, and very dear to many of us including those who worked in the palace especially.” He said before he gulped and looked at us, some of us clutching the ones next to us, and some standing in shock. “the beloved master of many, and the one nicknamed ‘The  dawn’ of our kingdom. has been lost.” he said softly before stepping down as many broke down.

The dawn... The one that brings sunlight to the dark.

→  Extra Author’s Note: Might wanna pay attention to my first author’s note if you have not already.

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[wolfgoddess77]

Temptation of the Moon

Kingdom Hearts Saix/Reader

Word count: 17,341

Rating: Explicit (NSFW)

Summary:  An offhand comment from Larxene plants the notion in your head to pursue the cold Luna Diviner, but he has other plans.

(Originally posted on Archive of Our Own.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any related characters, nor do I own you. No money is made from the writing of this story.

Saix was in the Addled Impasse, gazing at the glow of Kingdom Hearts through the large windows. He was as close as he ever got to relaxing when the Dusk scurried up to him. It paused a short distance away, its body almost seeming to float as it stood on its spindly legs, watching him. He turned his head to look at it, and the message it had brought to him was sent into his mind. It was a bit disconcerting to some, how the Dusks communicated; they were intelligent enough to act as emissaries, as long it wasn’t overly complicated. But the way they spoke…their words were transmitted directly into the mind of the one they were speaking to. For Saix, though, it had never bothered him.

“A summons?” It had been a while since the Superior had called a meeting; something must have happened. He turned to face the creature. “Message received. You may go.” The Dusk turned, half-hovering its way out of the room. When it was gone, he called forth a Corridor of Darkness, and the black tendrils swallowed him up, bringing him to the room known as Where Nothing Gathers. A circle of tall, throne-like chairs were placed in a ring around a raised dais, and as the portal deposited him in the seat that had been assigned to him, he realized that all but one of the others were empty. Not a meeting, then. A summons specifically for him.

To his right, seated in the highest chair, was Xemnas, the leader of the Organization. As Saix appeared, he turned his head, and amber met gold as their gazes met. The silver-haired man didn’t waste any time explaining why he had asked for his second-in-command. “A new Nobody has been born in the town once known as Radiant Garden,” he said. “You are to go and retrieve her.” Something that could never be explained about Xemnas was that he always seemed to know immediately when a Nobody appeared in one of the worlds. Whether he had Dusks out on constant reconnaissance, or if he had some kind of sixth sense that none of the others possessed, it never failed that he was aware of their presence very quickly after their birth. He always sent someone out to collect them, and bring them into the fold. It seemed that Saix’s turn had finally come for retrieval.

His eyes narrowed. “Radiant Garden… That town seems to be a cursed place for Nobodies.”

At his words, Xemnas gave a humorless chuckle. “Cursed or not, it has provided us with another member. It’s been quite useful in that aspect. For that, at least, we should be grateful.” He waved one arm. “You’re dismissed.”

Closing his eyes, Saix pulled his hood up over his head, and vanished in a swirl of black light. Within moments, he found himself standing in the center of the town that had become Hollow Bastion. He looked around, taking in the dilapidated surroundings. For a moment, he almost felt a twinge of pity. This place had been lovely once, but that was a long time ago, in another life. “Now look what’s become of it,” he murmured to himself.

Turning, he began to walk through the winding streets, searching for any sign of the newest Organization member. As he walked, he couldn’t help but think of how the town had once looked, back before the buildings had fallen into disrepair, and the walls had crumbled. He could still recall his former life, when he was complete, but this place no longer meant anything to him. Sentimentality was wasted on a Nobody, even if he couldn’t stop the memories from resurfacing every now and then.

As he explored the town, the minutes dragged on, turning into one hour, then two. He was running out of places to search, and still, he had found nothing. It was after dark, so most of the denizens of the town were in their homes, and the only thing roaming the streets was the occasional stray Heartless, which were easily dispatched. But Xemnas had never been wrong before; there was a Nobody here…somewhere.

Finally, he came to the outskirts of the town, which overlooked a deep ravine. It was the one place he hadn’t searched yet. “I wonder…” The only living beings to be found there were the creatures that spawned from the darkness, but if anyone was to lose their heart, it might be somewhere like that.

Saix walked down the sloping pathway that led down into the ravine, his golden eyes scanning the barren landscape. Finally, his gaze landed on your still form. You were curled up at the base of one of the cliffs, and based on your position, you hadn’t gotten there just by walking. Making his way over to you, he knelt down at your side, pushing his hood back off of his head. He reached out, carefully turning you onto your back. You were breathing, but unconscious. “How did you survive the fall from the cliff?” he asked, even knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. Sliding an arm beneath your shoulders, he lifted you up to get a better look at you. Apart from some particles of dust that clung to you in places, there were no scrapes or bruises…no wounds at all. Your bones should have been shattered from the impact of the landing, but you were completely unharmed. Which meant… “You didn’t survive it, did you? Your whole self was lost before you fell, and you were born here, in the canyon.”

Ironic that the attack that had fractured you had actually saved you from what would have been a painful death.

He shook you lightly in an attempt to rouse you, but your eyes never opened. That was strange. Was it possible that you were damaged internally, and he just couldn’t see it? No, he didn’t think that was the case. Your breathing was too regular, and your color was good. In fact, you seemed perfectly healthy, except for the fact that you wouldn’t wake. Xemnas wasn’t going to like this… But he would take you back to The Castle That Never Was, regardless.

Picking you up, he summoned a Corridor, stepping through it and emerging in the middle of the dais that stood within the circle of seats. Xemnas had abandoned his own chair, and was now standing at the base, waiting for the two of you to return.

The Superior stepped forward as Saix materialized, his amber gaze turning to you. Reaching out, he turned your face towards him, studying it. “Has she been like this the entire time?” he questioned.

“Yes, sir. I tried to wake her, but it didn’t work. I thought at first that she might be injured, but there’s not a mark on her.”

Xemnas was silent for a moment, thinking. “Take her to an empty room. Perhaps Vexen can tell us what keeps her unconscious.”

Saix nodded and turned away, carrying you through the dark halls of the Castle. At last, he came to a bedroom that wasn’t currently in use, and brought you inside, laying you down on the bed. He had just put you down when a Corridor materialized in the corner, and out stepped the Organization’s Number IV, Vexen. Xemnas was close behind him.

“So this is our newest member? Larxene will be thrilled to not be the only female any longer. But let me see…” The blond moved over to you, bending forward. He placed two fingers against your neck, feeling for the artery beneath the skin. “Her pulse is regular.” Quickly, he performed a cursory examination, checking your pupils and searching for any broken bones. He straightened, frowning as he finished. “The girl is healthy,” he told them. “As far as I can tell, her mind and body are in shock from losing her heart. I see no reason why she won’t wake soon enough.” He gave a light pinch to your arm, and the muscle beneath tightened. “You see? She responds to painful stimuli. It’s only a matter of time.”

Xemnas nodded. “You may go, Vexen.” The emerald-eyed man turned, summoning a Corridor and disappearing into it. Xemnas soon left as well, going out into the hall and leaving Saix alone in the room with you.

The Luna Diviner’s eyes lingered on you for a moment before he followed the other man into the hallway. At last, they had found a new Nobody to join their ranks.

As luck would have it, Vexen was indeed right; two days later, you awoke, beginning your new life as a member of the Organization.

You were stretched out on one of the couches in The Grey Area when Larxene found you. She sat down beside you with a sigh, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing back her short blonde hair. “All of these missions are tiring me out,” she said, more to herself than to you. “After a while, I thought they might slow down, but it’s been the opposite. I don’t get what the big rush is. It’s going to take a long time for Kingdom Hearts to be finished, and sending us out on missions won’t make that happen any faster. None of us can even collect hearts, anyway.”

Turning your head to look at her, you sat upright. “Bad day?” Larxene had always been one of the most vocal members of the Organization when it came to voicing her displeasure about something, but you had to admit, she had a point. Where before, you would have three or four days that passed between missions, but now, barely more than a single day would go by before you were sent out again. You couldn’t say that you were as upset about this as she seemed to be; there were very few things to do in The Castle That Never Was, and at least on missions, you always had something to occupy your time.

“Saix never lets me have any fun when we’re sent out together. He’s not a good conversationalist, either; most of the time, he won’t even say anything when I try to talk to him. All he does is mope around and stare at that beloved moon of his. He really needs to loosen up.” She fell silent, closing her eyes for several long moments. At last, she opened them again, and cast you a sideways glance. There was something decidedly sly about the way she was looking at you, and you weren’t sure that you liked it. “I wonder… Do you think there might be a way to help him relax?”

You met her gaze almost sternly. “What are you saying, Larxene?”

She waved one hand nonchalantly. “Nothing at all! I just thought, if he was able to relieve some stress, he might be willing to talk to our leader about giving us a bit of a break. It’s worth a shot, don’t you think? He’s handsome enough, even though he’s a little cold. But maybe all it would take is a little nudge in the right direction to get him to open up, and I think you’re just the right girl for the job.”

Unable to come up with a response to this, you simply blinked at her. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Larxene had a devious side that she liked to take advantage of every now and then, but she had never come up with anything quite like this before. Before you could say anything, she continued.

“I’m not saying you have to do anything, of course. It’s just a suggestion. But you might enjoy it, too.”

“I think that would be a very bad idea. Saix doesn’t seem like the type to tolerate something like that. You said he was cold, but he’s also…unpredictable. If I did something that he didn’t like – which could be anything – I might not walk away from it alive. I’m not sure that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Despite your words, though, you couldn’t deny that her words had a certain appeal. The Luna Diviner was almost as much of a mystery as Xemnas, the Organization’s leader, and quite possibly every bit as dangerous. For a long time now, you had wanted to try to get to know him better, but you had finally come to the conclusion that such a thing was impossible. More than once, you had attempted the same thing Larxene had, and tried to coax the golden-eyed man into talking, with miserable results. Then again, you hadn’t tried all that hard, not knowing what he might do if you ended up annoying him. So it was possible that he would eventually respond, if you just tried hard enough.

Larxene’s eyes narrowed as she watched you; she could see the thoughtful expression on your face, and she knew that you were thinking about what she had said. “Anyway, I’ll leave the details up to you. Give it some thought.” The tendrils of a Corridor of Darkness swirled up around her, and you heard her laugh impishly as she disappeared.

You lay back on the couch, your mind whirling with the implications of what Larxene had just proposed. Seducing Saix… Was such a thing even possible? In the time that you had known him, you had never seen him show any interest in anything except Kingdom Hearts. Still, you found that you wanted to try. You didn’t really care about the agenda that Larxene seemed to be following; you could turn her suggestion to your own interests.

The problem was, you didn’t know how to go about doing something like this. You couldn’t just come right out and say that you were interested in him, but you didn’t know if you were capable of doing this slowly and subtly. It might take weeks before you ever got any kind of a result, and you didn’t want to wait that long. You would have to wait for the perfect opportunity to present itself, and then take it.

Unfortunately, that opportunity didn’t happen until almost a week later. Saix rarely assigned himself to missions, choosing instead to focus on the administrative side of things, rather than taking action himself. You had almost been convinced that you would have to catch him at a time when he wasn’t busy with his responsibilities.

You had just woken up from a nap when you discovered that luck had apparently decided to have mercy on you. You’d had a tiring couple of days; this particularly long mission had lasted more than thirty-six hours, and you hadn’t returned until after nightfall. Of course, the sky was always dark in The City That Never Was, so it was impossible to tell whether it was actually day or night, but by the time you had finally stumbled back into the Castle, you had been ready to collapse. You had barely made it back to your room before exhaustion claimed you, and you fell asleep.

Only a few hours passed before you awoke again, feeling a bit better. You made your way to The Grey Area, expecting to find it empty, given the late hour, but to your surprise, Saix was standing in his customary place in front of the tall windows. He turned as you entered the room, and gestured to you.

Arching one eyebrow curiously, you crossed the room, coming to a stop in front of him. “What are you doing here so late?” you asked.

“I was waiting for you. We have a mission,” he replied.

“We?” you repeated. This threw you. From the day you had been inducted into the Organization, you had never once been sent on a mission with Saix. Now that you thought about it, you weren’t sure that you had ever seen him leave The World That Never Was. Granted, there were periods where he disappeared for long stretches of time, and you didn’t know where he went then; was he just in a different part of the Castle, or was he somewhere else altogether?

“There has been movement outside the town of Hollow Bastion, and Superior has instructed me to gather intelligence. I decided to bring you with me, given your mission success rate.” While it was true that you weren’t the best at reconnaissance – that title belonged to Xigbar – you thought you were decent enough at it, and you were a bit flattered that Saix had chosen you. Then again, you knew that it was probably only because the Freeshooter was currently out on another mission. But you weren’t insulted by this. Xigbar was better at it than you, and that was a fact. Why send someone less adept when the master could go, instead?

But you couldn’t stop your brow from furrowing. Hollow Bastion… Why did you have to be sent there, of all places?

Saix continued speaking, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Are you prepared to leave?”

That explained why you were being sent out so late at night. With your black coats, you were less likely to be noticed. “Yes; let’s go,” you told him.

With a single nod, he reached up, pulling his hood over his head, and you followed suit. A Corridor of Darkness sprang into existence at your side, and Saix disappeared into it. You hesitated for a moment, then allowed yourself to be engulfed by the dark portal, which would take you to your destination.

It took only a moment before you stepped out of the Corridor, looking around you. It had taken you outside of the town, and placed you at the base of one of the ruined walls. Leading away from you was a kind of path that would take you into the dark canyon that surrounded the foreboding castle in the distance. To either side of the path were high ledges of rock. This was where Saix now headed, as you followed him out of the portal. As you walked, a cold wind whipped up around you, threatening to tug the hood down off your head. You had to reach up quickly and grab the edge of it to keep it in place.

A shiver went through you that was only partially caused by the freezing gust. This town always made you uncomfortable. It was the place you had originated from, before you became a Nobody. Seeing the once-familiar haunts through the eyes of an outsider was something you would have rather avoided. But the Superior’s words were absolute; you just had to endure it for a few hours, and then you could return home. Odd, that this town was no longer home to you.

Your eyes fixed on the closest ledge that overlooked the canyon, and you came to a stop. A strange tightness appeared in your chest, twisting almost painfully. It was here. This was where…

When he didn’t hear your footsteps behind him, Saix turned to look at you, and dimly, you thought you could see the gleam of his golden eyes within the depths of the hood. “Come; I don’t want to waste any time.”

You didn’t move, nor did you even seem to hear his voice. One hand came up, and you curled your fingers into the front of your coat, holding the fabric tightly. When you had been sent on assignment to this world before, it had always been in the town itself. You had never been to the castle, though you had occasionally glimpsed it from a distance. It was the first time you had been confronted with this particular place since you had become a Nobody.

“(Name).” Saix spoke sharply, making you jump as your attention was drawn back to him.

“What…? I’m sorry; I just… I don’t like this place. It reminds me of…things that aren’t mine anymore.” You tilted your head back, looking up at the sky. Although The City That Never Was was always cloaked in darkness, it was night here as well, as you had thought it would be. Reconnaissance missions were almost always carried out after dark, when it was easier to blend in. The skies were clear, letting you see the thousands of pinpricks of light that blazed overhead. In other circumstances, despite the barren land around you, this could almost be called romantic. Just the two of you out here beneath the stars… Except you were on assignment in a place that made you very uncomfortable, and you were half-convinced the man you were with was actually frigid. He certainly behaved like that a lot of the time.

“It’s just a place,” he replied. “It should have no power over you.”

Another strong gust whipped around you, and you shivered in response. In slight annoyance, you noticed that Saix didn’t so much as twitch. Of course he would be unaffected… Even though the material of your coat, you could feel the nip in the air, and the wind just made it that much colder. Lowering your head to keep the gale from tearing your hood off, you wrapped your arms around yourself, running your hands over them in an attempt to keep warm.

“Hasn’t that ever happened to you before?” you asked, hoping to gain some insight into whether what you were feeling had ever happened to someone else. Surely it had… “You experience something that awakens a feeling, or a memory?”

“We all have those memories; fragments of the lives we had when we were whole. But that is no longer who we are. Those lives and memories belonged to others. We have no need of them.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion, and you raised your head to look at him. His words weren’t making any sense. “What? But…we’re trying to create Kingdom Hearts, specifically so that we can have our own hearts returned to us. How can you say that we have no need of those memories and feelings?”

“As Nobodies, what we feel isn’t real. They’re simply echoes of those emotions we once had. They’re false, and as such, useless. Only when we have our hearts back will feelings once again have meaning. Now come; we have work to do.”

You opened your mouth to reply, then closed it again, realizing that you actually didn’t have a response to this. Even though you weren’t sure that you agreed with what he was saying, you could understand where he was coming from. It was also a possible explanation for why he was so cold all the time. If he thought that the memories of his emotions were useless since they weren’t actually real, it came as no surprise that he chose to suppress them. He hadn’t been able to do it completely, though. You still occasionally saw glimpses of them, especially when he lost his temper.

Finally, you stepped forward, moving to his side, and as you did, he opened another Corridor, disappearing into it. When you followed, you were transported to the castle you had been sent here to explore. The first thing you noticed was that you had been deposited on the outside of the structure, rather than within. Odd choice; did Saix do that on purpose, or was there something preventing him from going inside? It wasn’t impossible to summon a Corridor to a place that had never been seen before, just difficult; it could be done, with enough concentration. But neither of you knew what the interior looked like, and he probably didn’t want to take the chance that he would step out of it and find himself in the middle of a group of enemies.

The second thing you noticed was that there was a massive Heartless symbol decorating the front, over the main doors. How interesting…

“What do you make of that?” Saix asked, noting where you were looking. He probably had his own theories about what it meant, and wanted to see if you came to the same conclusions.

“The Heartless aren’t even close to intelligent enough to have anything to do with the creation of this place. But I don’t think it’s just coincidence.” You looked over at him, even though you couldn’t see his face, as it was still hidden within the hood of his coat. “Do you think it’s possible that whoever made this place has something to do with the Heartless? Is that even possible?” The Heartless were born from the darkness in people’s hearts, and created more by stealing those hearts, turning the people they took them from into more of their own kind. Could such creatures be controlled? What would it take to be able to do something like that?

Saix gave a soft hum, looking back up at the emblem. “I wonder…” Moving over to the large doors, he ran one gloved hand over them almost thoughtfully.

“Are we going inside?” you questioned. You had to admit, you were curious about what might be hidden inside. However much you might learn from out here, the real knowledge had to be locked behind those doors.

“No. We’re taking enough of a risk just being this close. Sending Dusks would have been the safer option, but I preferred to do it myself. Perhaps we’ll return in the future; for now, the exterior will give us enough information. We may find out things that will benefit us in later missions.”

You couldn’t help but narrow your eyes as you listened to him. A thought tugged at the back of your mind; it sounded like Saix knew something about this place. Whatever knowledge he may have had, though, he probably wasn’t going to share it with you. He had already spoken more than you thought he would, in any case. Not that you were complaining; you liked hearing him talk, rare as it was. His quiet voice was smooth and pleasant to listen to.  Curious as you were, you would let him keep his secrets, so as not to risk him going silent again.

“How do you want to do this?” you asked instead. “The castle doesn’t seem to be too big, so we could probably cover everything even if we didn’t split up, but if we went separate ways, we could finish our assignment faster. The downside to that is, we’re twice as likely to be noticed.”

Saix’s hooded head tilted slightly to the side as he regarded you. “You’ve learned a lot from missions with Xigbar, I see.” Even though the Freeshooter was quite possibly the most friendly Nobody, he had never seemed very interested in teaching anyone else unless he was specifically ordered to. Then again, Saix had noticed that you’d forged something of a friendship with the Organization’s Number II, so perhaps that was why the yellow-eyed man had taken you under his wing and taught you how to best carry out stealth missions. Whatever his reasons behind it, Xigbar seemed to have been a good teacher.

You smiled, pleased by his (possibly unintentional) compliment. “I just want to make sure that I’m useful,” you told him. “I’m not a Keyblade wielder; I can’t collect hearts, so I had to make up for that in other ways.”

The Luna Diviner was silent for a moment. “You need not worry; the Organization will always have a use for those who are loyal.” Without further explanation, he turned away, walking parallel to the castle walls. “We’ll part ways. Explore the exterior as thoroughly as you can, then return here when you can go no farther. Kill any Heartless you encounter; if you don’t, they may report back to the master of this castle.”

You nodded; it felt like he was giving you another mission. He had always been the one to assign them, and you had become so used to this that you didn’t even think to question why he was instructing you further on what you should do. It seemed that he was of the same mindset; the orders came so naturally to him; he didn’t hesitate in giving them any more than you had in accepting them.

The two of you turned, setting off in opposite directions. From where you were, it was impossible to tell just how far this balcony extended around the castle; it was possible that you would find yourself meeting up with Saix again behind it. As you walked, you took note of the details of the structure’s design. The stone blocks had been kept clean, telling you that this place was certainly inhabited, even though you hadn’t seen any traces of anyone living.

But parts of it seemed to be built haphazardly; you could see what looked like copper pipes tucked away into corners, crawling up the walls. There also didn’t seem to be any symmetry to anything; some parts of the balcony were much larger than the others, and there were several different levels. What was more, some parts of the walkway were completely disconnected from the others, and you had to open a Corridor to get across them. There was probably another way, but you didn’t want to poke around and risk alerting anyone inside to your presence.

You had just entered one of the wider sections when you heard the sound of a portal opening, but it wasn’t the type that you and the other Nobodies utilized; this was a Heartless. Raising one arm, you narrowed your eyes. Black and white thornlike tendrils wrapped around your hand, manifesting themselves into a coiled black whip; your weapon, Fading Corrosion. You snapped it sharply, and it extended to its full length, more than twice your height.

Spinning around, you sent it lashing out, and as it sang through the air, it split into nine separate sections. Tiny black particles rose from its surface, disintegrating into thin air. The pieces smashed into the small group of Shadows that had appeared, cutting through them. The wounds began to writhe, and the edges crumbled away. Within moments, the Heartless were gone.

“Shadows?” Why had they sent the most low-level Heartless after you? You looked around, making sure that you hadn’t overlooked anything. These small creatures were completely expendable, so it was possible that they were just a diversion, keeping your attention away from something more important. But you saw nothing else.

One thing you had to admit, since this particular breed of Heartless was so weak, it took next to no effort to dispose of them. Your ability tore through them like wet paper. Your power was that of disintegration; the whip opened up deep wounds that would rot away the flesh of whatever it touched, causing them to dissolve into nothing. The stronger the Heartless, the more injuries it took to fully destroy them, and it was less effective on other beings, but it would still get the job done.

When you were sure that you were alone, you coiled your weapon back into a neat circle, and continued your exploration. You encountered a door, but remembering Saix’s words, you decided against seeing where it led, though you were sorely tempted. As you continued further along the pathway, several more groups of Heartless appeared, and you had to move quickly to ensure that none of them managed to escape, and find their way back to their master.

It was strange, though… This place had little to no security; even the Heartless were garden-variety, rather than the stronger types that would have proved to be a challenge. Nor were there any traps that might have prevented anyone from getting inside. Something wasn’t right here.

A sudden sound behind you made you whirl around, Fading Corrosion automatically lashing out to strike at whoever – or whatever – was behind you. You came face to face with a giant Heartless, its slanted eyes gazing at you malevolently. Its black body looked like a ragged, inverted teardrop, and it had two crooked horns curving back over its head.

So much for not running into any of the more powerful ones…

You had only a few seconds to take all of this in before the tendrils of your whip smashed into its side, carving out deep furrows. Its body trembled, and you thought you could see it pulsing. Too late, you realized what was happening. Your eyes widened, and you had only a split second to cross your arms protectively over your body. There wasn’t even time to open a Corridor, which might have saved you from the explosion.

The resulting shockwave knocked you off your feet, pushing you over the edge of the walkway you were standing on. You felt the sleeves of your coat beginning to disintegrate from the heat, but luckily, the material protected you from the worst of it. Your chest constricted in panic as you fell over the side; the ground was so far away; you didn’t know if you would be able to survive the landing.

You had experienced this before, some time ago. You remembered almost nothing of actually becoming a Nobody, but one of your last memories of being whole was the sensation of falling, and your entire body had been enveloped by a painful burning that had seemed to come from within your very core. Were you destined to repeat that fate?

No, there was still a way out of this.

Releasing Fading Corrosion, you twisted your body so that you were facing the rapidly-approaching ground. You flung your arms out in front of you, and a swirling portal appeared. The tendrils seemed to reach out to you, and you fell into their embrace as the darkness swallowed you up.

On the opposite side the castle, Saix heard the explosion, and turned just in time to see the Heartless self-destruct. On the edge of the blast, he saw you get thrown back, bringing your arms up to shield yourself. He watched in what seemed like slow motion as you fell over the edge, disappearing from sight. The last thing he saw in the lingering light of the explosion was your weapon disappearing from existence as you let go of it, and then the castle walls blocked you from view.

He summoned a Corridor of his own, reappearing where you had fallen, and looking over the edge. There was no sign of you anywhere below. The canyon floor was lost in shadow, so he couldn’t be sure if you were actually down there or not. Clad in your black coat, you would have been completely invisible.

But he wasn’t so sure you had actually reached the bottom. A Heartless of that size was dangerous, to be sure, but it shouldn’t have been enough to do any lasting damage. The only way that it would pose a serious threat would be if the concussion wave from the detonation had knocked you unconscious. If it had, then it was possible you had been lost.

The Luna Diviner’s golden eyes narrowed. The Superior was not going to be pleased with this development. He paused, debating. If you had indeed been killed by the fall, there would be little point in going to look for you. Your body would have faded away as your life fled. But on the other hand, you might still be alive, and gravely injured. It could be worth having a look, to be sure…

Just when he was about to make up his mind, you appeared behind him, stumbling out of the portal and collapsing against the wall. Your hood had fallen from your head, revealing your singed face, and the sleeves of your coat were tattered, as were your gloves. Apart from that, though, you seemed to be more or less unharmed. You could see very little at the moment, thanks to the blindingly white light of the explosion, and your ears were ringing. Everything from your shoulders down ached from when you had shielded yourself, but nothing was broken. Just very, very tender.

Your head raised as you heard the swishing of a coat, and the soft chiming of the metal decorations on the front of Saix’s coat. This startled you; he had been on the other side of the castle; he must have seen the Heartless detonate and come to find out what had happened.

He knelt down in front of you, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting your head back so he could look at your face. Your eyes were turned in his direction, but they were unfocused. “Can you not see?” he questioned.

“Only a little around the edges, and it’s blurry. Everything else is dark. That thing went off right in my face; I was looking directly at it. But it’s starting to fade some.” You could see his outline, where you hadn’t been able to before, and you followed the movement of his arm as he lowered it, his hand closing around your wrist. Before you could say anything, he had pulled you to your feet, making you wince.

“We must leave. Whoever is inside of this castle undoubtedly heard what just happened, and may come to investigate. But…this could still benefit us. We can watch from a distance, and see who comes through those doors.”

A Corridor enveloped the both of you, depositing you back on the precipice where you had been before. Saix released your wrist, sitting down on the edge and crossing one leg over the other. “Go back to the Castle,” he instructed you. “We have completed our mission, but I want to see if I can find out anything more. Your sight hasn’t completely returned, so you can do little from here on out.”

“No,” you said. “This is my mission, too. If you’re staying, so am I.” It was the first time you had ever defied him, and through your darkened eyes, you saw him stiffen and turn his head just enough to be able to see you. You had more than one reason for doing this; not only did you dislike the idea of finishing your mission without any kind of sense of completion, you also felt a bit vulnerable while your vision was still damaged. Being close to him somehow made you feel a little better.

Slowly, you sat down behind him, your right arm just barely touching his broad back. This little bit of contact made you feel steadier. “I don’t know if you picked up on it or not, but something was strange about that castle,” you said after a moment. “Apart from those Heartless, it seemed to be entirely unguarded. And we were a lot stronger than anything they threw at us. It was almost like…they didn’t care that we were even there. Maybe it was just that they didn’t know about us, but you’d think they would still have some kind of defenses, just in case.”

“I noticed that as well. Either what lies beyond those doors is not important enough to be worth protecting, or they believe that no one will be able to reach it. I saw no path to the castle; without our Corridors of Darkness, we might not have been able to get there ourselves.”

A faint shudder went through you, and you unconsciously leaned just a little harder against him. Your Corridors�� That ability had saved your life. “They’re very helpful,” you said at last. “If it hadn’t been for them…” Your voice grew very quiet and distant. “That’s happened to me before, I think. Falling like that…”

“Yes,” Saix agreed, startling you. “It’s no wonder such a thing would awaken a similar memory within you. By the time I found you in the canyon below, your heart had already been lost, and you were unresponsive. But based on where you were, it looked like you had fallen from the cliff. I took you back to the Castle, where you slept for two days. But you remember nothing of this, do you?”

Your eyes had widened as you absorbed this new information. “You were the one who found me?”

“Yes. Superior sensed that a new Nobody had been born in this town, and he dispatched me. It took some time to find you, though. I assumed you were in the town itself, not outside of it. But there you were, at the base of this very ledge.”

At this you were silent, thinking over what he had just told you. “I never knew,” you said at last. “I remember a lot of my life from when I was whole, but then everything stops here. I was cornered by a group of Heartless, and then…nothing, until I woke up in the Castle.” You pulled yourself closer to his side, looking up at him. Hesitantly, you reached out, pushing his hood down from his head so you could see his face. “What about you? Do you…remember what it was like when you became a Nobody?”

He looked at you closely; your gaze was much more focused now, telling him that your vision was returning. “What I remember is irrelevant. You said this place reminds you of things that are no longer yours; the same is true of this. Everything we feel and remember belongs to other people. You are too attached to your lost past. Is it truly so precious to you?”

“If it wasn’t important, we wouldn’t be working so hard to create Kingdom Hearts,” you pointed out. “You said that what we feel is fake, but they’re the memories of what we could experience when we were whole. They might only be remnants, but they’re still real. They were once real. And anything that can make us feel something should be precious.”

“A Nobody’s existence is an empty one, and something you must come to accept. Until Kingdom Hearts is finished, you will feel nothing. Pretend all you like, but your displays of emotion are simply that: displays.”

A hot burst of anger rushed through you, and you straightened, pulling yourself up onto your knees. “That’s not true! I’ve seen it; I’ve seen what happens when you lose your temper. And I know you can. Are you saying that’s fake, too?”

The faintest shadow of a smile curved Saix’s lips as he looked up at you. “Look at yourself. Getting this worked up over something so inconsequential. Why do my words anger you? If you didn’t believe them, they wouldn’t affect you like this.”

“I won’t believe…that what I feel isn’t real.” If you did, then you would also have to admit that the comfort you felt from being so close to him was also fake. He might have been cold, and almost always unapproachable, but for all of that, you still wanted to be near him. That couldn’t be false…right?

Summoning all of your courage, you reached out, placing a hand on the side of his face and turning it towards you. The other came up to rest on his shoulder, and you could feel the denseness of the muscles that lay beneath the fabric of the coat. Because the garment was so loose on him, you had never been able to get an accurate idea of just what he looked like without it. However, the ease with which he wielded his weapon, a massive claymore that looked like it weighed as much as you did – and one-handed, no less – spoke of immense strength. The solidness beneath your fingers just confirmed it. But it also made you nervous; he was much more powerful than you were, and he could probably snap you like a twig if he so chose.

“They’re not just displays,” you whispered. “These feelings…are real.” Before you could even think about what you were doing, you leaned forward, placing your mouth over his in a kiss. For several long seconds, Saix was unyielding against you. He didn’t move, nor did he return your kiss. Disappointment replaced the anger you were feeling, followed closely by humiliation. Of course he wouldn’t respond to you. Really, you hadn’t expected anything different.

Without pulling away, you summoned a Corridor of Darkness. Just as the black and blue tendrils began to wrap themselves around you, transporting you to a different location, you saw Saix raise his arms. You had only an instant to feel his fingers brush against your arms before you had disappeared. Not that it mattered; he was most likely going to push you away. You just beat him to it.

When you reappeared, you were back in your room in The Castle That Never Was. You were still on your knees, and you felt the lingering warmth of Saix’s body beneath your hands; against your lips. Struggling to your feet and moving over to your bed, you let your aching body collapse onto it. You knew that you still had to report to the Superior about the mission, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet. Your bed was so soft. Besides, you knew that Saix would probably do it himself as soon as he returned; there was really no need for you to do it, especially if it meant that you ran the risk of encountering him.

What had you been thinking? Bad enough that you had put your caution aside and actually gotten close enough to touch him, but then you had completely lost your mind, and actually kissed him. But you hadn’t been able to help yourself. False or not, your emotions had gotten the better of you, and you had given in to the anger that his words had incited within you. The kiss had been so sudden that you hoped it would make him respond, perhaps awakening some latent emotions within him, as returning to this place had done for you. But you had been wrong. In trying to prove that the emotions you were feeling were actually real, you might have inadvertently done the exact opposite; at least in his case. He hadn’t even had the decency to kiss you back. That was what made you the most angry. You knew that it hadn’t simply been a matter of him being too surprised to react. He had chosen not to do anything.

What did that mean, exactly? Was he specifically not interested in you, or was he disinterested in general? It had been proven that he could feel things, so it stood to reason that he was also subject to arousal, especially since that was a normal reaction of the body, rather than an emotion. Then again, it was possible that, in suppressing his emotions, he had done away with everything else, too. There was still so much that you didn’t know about him that you couldn’t even begin to make an educated guess.

Things had been going so well, too, and now it had turned into a complete disaster that you didn’t know how to fix. You would have preferred to keep your distance from him, at least for a while, but that wasn’t an option. He was the one who gave out the mission orders, so you had no choice but to interact with him, or risk incurring the wrath of the Superior. Maybe the best option would simply be to…pretend that it had never happened. The more you thought about it, the more you came to the conclusion that Saix would probably be doing the same thing. Just put this entire failed attempt behind you, and never think of it again.

…if only it was that easy. That one kiss had made you want more, and you knew that every time you saw him, that would be what you thought about. But it wasn’t something you could do twice, no matter how much you might want to. Well, on the plus side, at least you had accomplished your mission, even if the attempt you’d made to prove something to the golden-eyed man had been nothing short of a failure. Surely that counted for something.

For the first time in a very long while, Saix found himself more than a little surprised. It happened so rarely that he had been half-convinced such a thing wasn’t even possible.

Because of his status as second-in-command, the other members almost always kept their distance from him, and remained respectful, at least in his presence. Xigbar was the only one who ever had the courage – or the foolishness – to be openly dismissive of his authority. But then he had gone on this mission with you, and everything he was used to had been turned on its head. When he had seen you fall over the edge of the castle’s balcony, he hadn’t known what to think. He knew that a Nobody couldn’t be killed that easily, so he wasn’t worried for your life. But at the same time, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from looking for you in the darkness of the canyon.

Upon seeing you rematerialize back up on the walkway, he had immediately noticed the state of your sleeves and gloves, and the singe marks on your face. More curiously, though, your eyes were blank and unfocused. That had puzzled him for a moment, but just before you explained why you couldn’t see, he had realized; the brightness of the explosion had done it. In the dark night, your pupils would have been dilated, and such a sudden, large amount of brilliant light would have blinded you at least for the next few minutes.

When he had returned to the outskirts of the deteriorated town with you, he’d received another surprise in the form of you sitting down against him. He didn’t know if it was your brush with death that had made you seek his closeness, or something else, but he allowed you to remain where you were, rather than getting up and relocating.

And that was when it happened. He had managed to make you angry, and inexplicably, you hadn’t argued back this time. Nor had you left, as he might have expected. Instead, you had done something that he never could have seen coming. You had kissed him. In retrospect, he saw why you had done it. Kisses were usually born of passion, and yours had certainly been filled with…something; proof that you could still feel. He had been trying to sort through the separate emotions that you had put into it, and was just starting to respond when you had abruptly summoned a Corridor, vanishing into the swirling tendrils and leaving him alone, attempting to grasp thin air.

Saix looked down at his hands, realizing that he had reached out for you without thinking. It had been automatic, and he only noticed it when his fingers had closed on nothing, rather than your smaller frame. That was interesting. What had caused him to do something like that? Emotions or not, he could still want things, and in that moment, he had wanted…

This would have to be explored further. But it would also have to be done very carefully. If he went about it the wrong way, or was too forceful, he might end up scaring you off, and that had to be avoided. One of the problems was that he didn’t know what exactly it was you wanted. If you were looking for something meaningful, he couldn’t provide that. Not while he was still a Nobody. The two of you had only met each other after you had lost your hearts, and that made a big difference.

Still, there was an idea forming in the back of his mind. Even though you weren’t aware of it, your kiss had awakened something within him, and he fully intended to take advantage of it soon enough. It was like a switch had been flipped. Usually, his mind was consumed by thoughts of Kingdom Hearts, and the desire to finish it, so he could be whole once more. But now, other thoughts had intruded. Images of you, stretched out beneath him, his name on your lips as you were brought to the height of pleasure at his hand. What did you look like under that coat, he wondered? What would your voice sound like, drawn out in a moan? What would you feel like, when he was buried deeply in your warmth? A faint smile came to his face. This could turn out in his favor after all, if done correctly. It all depended on you.

Slowly, he stood up. The structure that now stood in the distance had been still ever since the two of you had left it. If anyone was going to come to investigate the explosion caused by the Heartless, they would have done it by now. He had learned enough to call the mission a success, so he could return to The Castle That Never Was and report his findings to the Superior.

As he turned, swirling black tendrils enveloped him, and he disappeared from Hollow Bastion in the blink of an eye.

The following night, you walked down the hallways of The Castle That Never Was, yawning. It had been a long day, and you were tired. As you reached the door to your room and went inside, you saw something lying on your bed. It looked like a small piece of paper, folded into a neat square. Curiously, you crossed the room and picked it up. When you unfolded it, you saw a single sentence, written in elegant, flowing handwriting. Come to the Addled Impasse precisely at midnight.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as nervousness gripped you. There was no doubt in your mind about who the sender was. Only one Nobody frequented that particular room, and that knowledge, combined with the rather formal words used in the note gave it away. You had managed to keep your distance from him in the past twenty-four hours, though you knew that couldn’t last. Soon, you would have to face him, to receive a new mission. You had been lucky that you hadn’t already received one.

Not enough time had passed for you to be comfortable facing Saix again. The embarrassment of what you had done still hung over you like a dark cloud, and though you knew it was too early for what had happened to be forgotten, that didn’t stop you from hoping.

Then the note had shown up, dashing your wish that your foolish decision had been left in the past, never to be brought up again.

It surprised you a bit that he had waited an entire day to say something. He’d had every opportunity to do so; you hadn’t been sent on a mission that day, leaving you free for hours, yet you hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of him since you had left him on the ledge the night before. And at last, this was how he had chosen to contact you? You had never thought the Luna Diviner would be the type to steal into your bedroom and leave you a note. He seemed more likely to simply hunt you down and make you tell him what he wanted to know. Then again, perhaps the past day hadn’t been an accident. He was a patient man, and he probably knew that the longer he waited before speaking with you, the more your anxiety would grow. Now, thanks to your mission with him, you had opened yourself up to those kinds of mental attacks, something you hadn’t intended to do. Your chaotic emotions had revealed a weakness to him; he had likely realized that he could exploit that, if he so chose.

And he was right. Those who had emotions were vulnerable to having them used against their owners, manipulated to suit someone else’s goals. You were no exception, and Saix was a master at that particular ability. When you had first began to think about the suggestion that Larxene had given you, you had tried to convince yourself that it was nothing more than an experiment, to see if you could get him to respond to you. You had always been attracted to the golden-eyed man, after all. If your attempt had actually worked, well… You certainly wouldn’t have complained about that. But after that conversation with him, you had to admit that it went deeper than that now. He was one of the only ones who could make you react the way you did. It was ironic. For someone who claimed that the lingering emotions Nobodies could feel were useless, he was the catalyst that brought them out most strongly in you.

You didn’t like the idea of him toying with those emotions, and you had a feeling that he most likely would, when you went to meet him. But you didn’t even consider not going; maybe this would be the way to help things mend, even if they hadn’t technically been broken in the first place, just…uncomfortable.

For a long time, you simply sat there, gazing at the beautiful handwriting. You had long since passed the point where the words actually made sense to you, and still, you couldn’t look away. But finally, the appointed time came. Folding up the note, you put it at the head of the bed and stood, opening up a Corridor of Darkness. As you stepped through the portal, you couldn’t help but feel more anxious. You would have to do this very carefully, so you didn’t accidentally trigger one of the very few times Saix ever showed his anger. It was rare, but there had been a handful of instances when you had seen  him break out of the calm persona he cloaked himself in. His scar would grow more ragged, his hair becoming wilder, and his eyes… Those molten gold orbs would burn bright yellow. And when that happened, anyone who stood in his way would be destroyed. Not that he needed to lose his temper to be dangerous, though. You had seen him slay Heartless by the dozens and never lose that calm expression on his face.

The Corridor faded from around you, and the walls of the Addled Impasse came into view. It had begun to rain outside, you saw; you could occasionally see the flicker of lightning through the floor-length windows across the room, and the glass was streaked with water. Despite this, you could still see the glow of Kingdom Hearts in the distance. But one thing was conspicuously absent: Saix himself. That was strange. He had called you here, so you had expected him to be waiting for you.

You crossed the room, stopping in front of the wall of glass, and watched the lightning dance across the sky. It was rainy more often than not in the City That Never Was; this place seemed to breed storms like the darkness bred Heartless.

Before you could think about this any further, you heard the sound of another Corridor opening nearby. You turned, and came face to face with the Luna Diviner. He stood only a few feet away, his golden eyes burning into yours as he looked down at you. Even though the two of you weren’t nearly as close as you had been that night, he was still near enough to cause something to twist in your chest.

“I had my doubts about whether you would come,” he said. “This wasn’t a mandatory meeting; you were free to refuse, if you wished.”

“If I wished,” you repeated. “Maybe I didn’t want to refuse.” You resolved to stay calm this time, not wanting to give him any more ammunition to use against you.

“Given your abrupt return to the Castle last night, I was under the impression that you were avoiding me, especially considering how adamant you were about remaining there with me, since it was ‘your mission, too’.”

There it was; you had been wondering when he was going to bring it up. This was going to be uncomfortable, and you had been dreading it, knowing that it had the potential to make things worse, rather than better. You looked away; once again, you weren’t sure if you had a good response to this one. “I did something stupid without thinking, and by the time I realized I shouldn’t have done it, it was already too late. So I thought it would be best if I just gave us both some space.”

“You regret what you did, then?” You thought you detected a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice as he asked this, and it made you immediately look back at him. You had thought to hear condescension, or maybe even amusement at your expense, as if he thought that you should be regretting doing something so bold. But there was none of this.

It was an interesting question. Did you regret it? Yes and no. You regretted doing it before you knew how he would react to something like that, without knowing if he even thought of you as anything more than another Organization member. You still didn’t know the answer to that one. While he might have been able to read you easily, the same wasn’t true in reverse. He could have been sincere, or he might have been toying with the emotions you had revealed to him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to regret actually kissing him. You just wished the outcome had been different.

“No, I don’t,” you said at last, making his eyebrows raise marginally.

To your astonishment, you were certain that you saw him smile. Finally, he looked away, turning his gaze from you to the glow of Kingdom Hearts above your head. “You know, I’ve been thinking about the conversation we had,” he told you.

He didn’t look down at you as your body stiffened, and your brow furrowed slightly. “What about it?” you asked warily.

“I haven’t changed my mind about what I said. I still believe that the remnants of these emotions are useless.” Those golden eyes shifted back to you. “I admit, since I became a Nobody, I haven’t felt the need for companionship. There was only one thing I wanted, one thing I ever cared about. But now…I’m curious.”

You decided not to point out the irony of him saying that he had something he cared about. Now wasn’t the time for that. Besides, you were more intrigued by what else he had said. “Curious about wh-”

You didn’t have the chance to finish your question. Moving so quickly that it was over before you had a chance to react, Saix reached out, placing one hand in the center of your chest and pushing you back against the window. He immediately stepped closer, bracing one forearm against the glass beside your head.

Your breath caught in your throat as he picked up a lock of your hair, rubbing the strands between his fingers. He smelled so good, you thought idly. You had noticed it during the mission the other night, but your mind had been on other things, so you hadn’t really had a chance to contemplate it until now. “S-Saix?” Your voice was filled with surprise, and perhaps a little nervousness.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he heard your tone, and his fingers went still. You thought you had managed to keep your face impassive, but he must have read something there that you weren’t aware of, for his next words made you pause. “Are you afraid of me?

The smart answer to that would have been to say nothing at all. Failing that, you might have told him that you were. It would have been the truth; when he entered his berserker state, he terrified you. He was unpredictable at the best of times, and when he lost control of himself, he was quite possibly just as physically powerful as Lexaeus. And even when he was calm, like now, there was always that faint wariness that never left you as long as you were in his presence. It was instinctive to keep an eye on him at all times, since you never knew what might set him off.

But you did neither of these things. Instead, you simply gazed back at him. “No,” you said firmly. You would never admit to being afraid of him, especially not to Saix himself. You felt like, if he knew, something would change for the worse. Last night, you had finally gotten him to open up to you, and begin talking. He had even told you some things that you hadn’t known about your origins. You didn’t want all of that to have been for nothing. But even now, you noticed that he was talking more than usual, which meant that everything hadn’t been lost. Yet.

He arched one elegant eyebrow, looking pointedly down at you. You could tell that he didn’t believe what you were saying, and it was no wonder, really. Your behavior said it all. Because of his close proximity, you had shrank back against the window, as far away from him as you could get.

“I’m not afraid,” you repeated, more firmly. To prove this, you straightened, bringing your body almost up against his.

“How interesting.” He let your hair slide through his fingers, bringing a lock of it up to press against his mouth. He paused thoughtfully for a moment, closing his eyes, and you held your breath as you watched him. When he opened them again, he released your hair, and the hand that was beside your head found new placement lower down. This close, you could feel his arm against your side.

“What I’m curious about is you. Bonds between Nobodies are impossible. But I still…” Lightly, his fingers brushed against your cheek. “I still want to know what would happen.”

You reached up, grasping his hand tightly. He paused, waiting to see what you would do. “What are you saying?” you whispered. Your breath was coming a bit faster, and you could feel a faint tightness in your abdomen. He was too close; you couldn’t think straight. How you wanted to kiss him again… But you didn’t dare. Not yet. You wanted to know what exactly he was up to first.

Saix’s hand turned in yours, and his powerful fingers curled around your wrist, pressing it back against the window. He suddenly wrapped his free arm around your waist, and pressed his larger body against yours. You found yourself pinned tightly to him, and your free hand automatically came up to rest against his chest, though you didn’t try to push him away. “It’s intriguing. Even believing what I do, I still feel the desire to claim you for myself.”

Before you could reply, he released your wrist, bringing his hand up and placing it against the side of your face, his thumb stroking over your cheek again. Because of the way the two of you were positioned, you had to look almost straight up; he was a good deal taller than you were, though he was still on the smaller end of the spectrum when it came to the other Organization members in terms of height. As you tilted your head up, his mouth crashed down on yours in a fierce kiss. It was nothing like the first time; you could have been kissing a stone statue for all the response he’d had then, but now… Now the kiss took your breath away, and your fingers dug into the material of his coat, clinging to it almost desperately.

You felt him move both hands down to your waist, and suddenly, you were lifted off the ground, then pushed back. In an instinctive effort to keep yourself from falling, you wrapped your legs tightly around him, your hands coming up to grasp his broad shoulders, even though in the back of your mind, you knew that he wouldn’t drop you. The pressure of his hips against you intensified, and you could feel a distinct hardness against your core as he held you pinned against the wall. He was aroused, just from this. But then again, so were you.

It was incredible, how fast things had suddenly progressed. As patient as Saix was, it seemed that he also didn’t believe in wasting time, especially when it came to something like this. Why hadn’t be acted like this the first time you had kissed him? He had made you feel thoroughly rejected, and now here he was, holding you up against the wall with his hips alone.

Because of this, his hands were left free, and he slid them inside the opening at the bottom of your coat. He caressed your thighs for a moment before moving up to your back. The material of his gloves was soft against your skin, and you gave a faint shiver.

Finally, he broke the kiss, trailing his mouth along your jawline, then down your neck. “You like this, then?” he breathed against your throat, licking at the tender flesh and leaving behind soft nips. You tilted your head back to give him better access, and the spikes of his hair tickled against your skin.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice bordering on a moan. His behavior was a bit strange;  being the second-in-command in the Organization, he was deferential only to Xemnas, and for a long time, you had suspected that his dominant personality might be something that carried over into other aspects of his life, even if you hadn’t had any definitive proof of this until now. It was part of why you had been so attracted to him. He had been in control ever since he had appeared in this room, and you didn’t see that changing any time soon. But at the same time, his touch and kisses were surprisingly gentle. Somehow, the contrast made this even more arousing.

Leaning forward, he paused in his ministrations to whisper in your ear. “Nobodies cannot form meaningful attachments, so I can’t offer you anything more than physical pleasure…but soon, you won’t desire anyone else’s touch.” Seductive promise laced his tone, sending a tingle racing up your spine. “I will be the only one you ever want.”

You decided not to mention that, at this point, that was already mostly true. The Organization was largely filled with very attractive men, but you had never seen them as anything more than comrades, and in a handful of cases, friends. Saix was the only one you had ever truly been interested in. Ironic, really, considering that he barely had any feelings of his own. But you had to admit, what he was proposing was very tempting, whether emotions were involved or not.

“I will find every place on your body that responds to me, and I’ll use them to my advantage, drawing out your pleasure until you’re begging me to give you relief.” He leaned back, gazing at you seriously. “I can give you whatever kind of release you desire, but in return, you must be obedient. You will give me complete control of your pleasure; if you ever want release, you’ll come to me, and I’ll provide it. This is what it means to be mine. Is that what you want?”

You considered this. Giving him all of that would take a lot of trust; faith that he wouldn’t take advantage of the control you would turn over to him. You would be completely at his mercy. He was asking quite a bit of you. How long had he been thinking about this, you wondered? It didn’t sound like something he had thrown together on the spot. He must have been planning it for a while. It was possible that your kiss had opened the door to all of this. And to think, you thought it had begun and ended right then.

Some people might have been annoyed by the idea that you weren’t even allowed to touch yourself when you wanted to, but you weren’t one of them. If anything, his words only turned you on more. The idea that he wanted to be the only source of your pleasure was something that you very much liked. Not to mention that it would only heighten what you would feel; there was something about another person’s touch that always felt better than your own, especially once they had learned exactly what you liked.

“I want…” Your voice trailed off, and you looked away for a second. Saix could practically see the gears turning in your mind as you thought about your answer. He was patient, allowing you time to make your decision. “I want you,” you said at last. “And everything included with that.”

The shadow of a smile appeared on his face, and he curled one arm beneath your thighs to support you. With his other hand, he reached up, unfastening the decorative chain before taking hold of the zipper and drawing it down. When it came loose, instead of sliding the coat down off your body, he pulled you close, nuzzling your breasts, which were partially covered by the fabric. He inhaled, taking in your scent.

Your eyebrows raised slightly at his behavior, but you couldn’t say that you disliked it. It seemed even the cold Saix wasn’t immune to certain things.

His hand slipped inside the garment, pushing it aside, and your breath caught as you felt him envelop your nipple in his warm mouth. His tongue flicked over it, sending a trickle of pleasure through you.

After a few moments, he released you, trailing kisses and soft bites up the soft flesh, until he reached your shoulder. Suddenly, he bit down, hard enough to leave a mark, and you gasped at the abrupt sting. Your body jerked involuntarily, pushing against his arousal and causing a low growl to rise in his throat. The surprisingly erotic sound shot straight to your core, causing your blood to heat up in response.

“Be careful,” he warned, his lips moving against your shoulder. “If you continue to do that, I may not be able to stop myself.” Deliberately, he pressed his hips against you, letting you feel his solidness through the material of his pants.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” you protested. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Is that so…” He kissed you again, more deeply this time. Grasping your jaw, he squeezed just hard enough to make you open your mouth. His tongue swept inside, exploring. Cautiously, you returned the treatment, twining your tongue around his. This was still new to you, so you didn’t know just how much he would let you do without him feeling like you were encroaching on his control.

Thankfully, it seemed that he didn’t mind this, as he didn’t put up any sort of a fight. But he removed one hand from your back, placing it flat against the wall. To your surprise, you felt the solidness you were leaning against dissolve as a Corridor enveloped the wall. A moment of panic overtook you with the loss of support against your back, but Saix was having none of it; he wrapped the arm he had moved around you, holding you tightly against him, and stepped into the portal.

When it faded, you realized that you were in a bedroom; his, to be exact. The room looked almost exactly like yours; bare, save for a single bed, and a large, square window that opened out onto the perpetually black sky. The only point of light in the darkness was the golden glow of Kingdom Hearts in the distance. But you had no further time to examine your surroundings, as he carried you over to the bed, sitting down on it and placing you in his lap, still facing him. Finally, he broke the kiss, leaving you breathing hard. To your surprise, you saw that his own chest was rising and falling more rapidly than usual.

With your chest bare, you were feeling at a distinct disadvantage, and you unhooked the chain on his coat. You unzipped the garment, pausing every few seconds to see if he was going to stop you. When he didn’t, you slowly slid it down over his shoulders, revealing the muscular frame beneath. He wasn’t as well-built as Lexaeus, but nor was he as slender as Axel or Demyx. There was an immense amount of power in that body; you could feel it.

Saix took his hands from where they were rested against your back just long enough to completely remove the coat, along with his gloves. Your eyes roamed curiously over his form, taking in the elegant sweep of his collarbones, to the clearly-defined muscles of his chest and upper arms. Just below that were the smooth ridges of his abdomen, framed on either side by sharp furrows that outlined where his hips began. You realized that your mouth had gone dry, and you swallowed hard, bringing your gaze back up to his face.

He reached out, and for the first time, you felt the bare skin of his hands touch you, sliding from your shoulders, along your arms, and drawing down the sleeves of your own coat as he went. Despite the gloves that all the Organization members perpetually wore, his hands were slightly rough, probably from handling his weapon. It seemed like the material hadn’t been able to protect his hands from wear. Not that you minded; the contrast against your smooth skin was very nice.

Slowly, your breasts were fully revealed to his gaze, and you noticed that his eyes had darkened in color. This was interesting. You had only ever seen them lighten, when anger got the better of him in battle. Now, though, something else had taken hold of him. This wasn’t anger, but desire. You felt a responding surge of heat go through your body as he peeled off the gloves you wore, tossing them carelessly aside, followed by your coat. Before now, you had always thought he would take care with his clothes, folding them up neatly, rather than discarding them like that. Under normal circumstances, that might very well be the case, but right now, he was too focused on you to think about anything else.

Now that you were fully undressed from the waist up, his hands suddenly slid around to your back, and he pulled you against him, capturing the peak of a breast in his mouth again, his breath hot against your skin. His tongue flicked against the sensitive flesh, and you gave a soft whine of pleasure, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. You reached up, twining your fingers through his long hair, and holding him close to you. He was more aggressive this time; you felt his teeth scrape lightly against you, and again, you braced yourself for the inevitable sting, but it never came.

One hand came up to cup the neglected breast, and he pinched the nipple hard enough to bring you to the edge of pain before letting go, only to repeat the process a moment later. His mouth released the other peak, and he moved up, nipping at the skin hard enough that at least one would leave the mark you had been expecting. At least he’d had the foresight to place them in areas that your coat would cover, once you replaced it. You didn’t mind him doing this, as long as they weren’t in places that would be visible to everyone else. You would never hear the end of it if Xigbar or Axel spotted them.

Your eyes opened, and you looked at him thoughtfully. He’d never said anything against you claiming him in return, and you liked the idea of it. You leaned forward, placing a line of soft kisses down his neck, and across his shoulder. Just as you opened your mouth to bite down, you suddenly felt him shift beneath you, and you found yourself on your back on the bed, gazing up at him in surprise. He was kneeling over you, his legs on either side of yours, and his hands curled tightly around both your wrists, pinning them to the bed next to your head.

“I don’t recall saying you could do something like that,” he chided, his golden eyes dancing with a light you had never seen before. It told you that he wasn’t truly angry with you, but there was something else to it…a kind of wickedness that had your stomach clenching with anticipation and a slight edge of nervousness.

“You never said I couldn’t,” you pointed out. Experimentally, you tried to turn one wrist in his hold, to see how much you were able to move. No good; he was holding you too tightly. You were powerless in his grasp. However, you had told him that you wanted him, and everything that came with him, and that had been the truth. You trusted him, more than you ever thought you would be able to.

That suggestion of a smile appeared on his face again, and he gave a brief chuckle. “True enough. But I believe you need a little taste of what might happen if you do anything to disobey me.” He slid your arms up until they were above your head, and shifted so that both of your wrists were held in place by one of his hands. Lightly, he straddled your thighs, his free hand tracing a path gently down the center of your body and making you shiver. When he reached the top of your pants, you froze as he unsnapped the top button. The fabric loosened around your hips, and then even farther as he popped the second one open.

Agonizingly slowly, he slipped his fingers inside, and he began to trace idle patterns on your lower belly, causing frustration to well up within you. The expression on his face told you that he was enjoying this. But really…so were you, even if you weren’t sure just what he had in store for you.

He slipped his hand lower down, and your body suddenly jumped when you felt him come into contact with your folds. A smirk came to his face as he watched your reactions. It seemed like you weren’t used to being touched like this. That thought appealed to him. But there was something he had to know. “Have you ever been with anyone before?” he murmured, his fingers gently caressing you.

“Not since I became a Nobody,” you admitted. Was he concerned about hurting you? Or did he worry that someone else had already gotten to you before he had? Well, he needn’t have worried, if that was the case. There was only one Nobody within the Castle that you desired, and you currently had his attention.

You inhaled sharply as he found the hidden bundle of nerves, and began to lightly stroke it. A hot burst of pleasure shot through you, and you quivered beneath him. What he was doing felt incredibly good, but you knew that it would never be enough for you to reach your peak. And that was when you realized that his warning earlier had been the truth. He might actually intend to make you beg. Or, if he didn’t go quite that far, he was at least going to draw it out long enough to have you completely frustrated.

The Luna Diviner leaned down, his long hair falling over his shoulders and tickling across your chest as he placed a deceptively gentle kiss on your neck. He lightly bit down, just hard enough to elicit a soft moan from you. Deep in your mind, you knew this tenderness wouldn’t last. By morning, you were going to be sore. You had seen the promise of that in his eyes earlier, and it was still there now, if you cared to look for it. As he leaned back, his gaze was filled with a hungry lust that demanded to be sated. All the while, his fingers were busy at work between your legs, his touch more firm than it had been a moment ago, so as to bring out as much of your pleasure as he could.

The muscles of your legs began to twitch in response, and your hips started moving in time with the rhythm he had set. The faint smile was still on his handsome face; it was quite a sight – something you had seen only a handful of times before. But just as soon as the sensations he was giving you had reached a steady plateau, he suddenly withdrew his fingers from your center, releasing your wrists at the same time, and hooked them into the loosened waistband of your pants. Slowly, he drew the garment down, making sure that his hands trailed along the soft skin of your legs. When he reached your knees, he pulled off your boots, and then your pants, leaving you fully undressed. His touch roamed back up your thighs to your stomach, where he stopped.

“Stand up, and go to the window, facing me,” he instructed, pulling away so you were able to move once again. He leaned back, regarding you, waiting to see if you would obey.

One eyebrow arched in response to this order, but you did as he told you, sliding off the edge of the bed and padding across the room. The floor was cold beneath your bare feet, and you shivered faintly. Before, his body had been close enough to you to keep away the chill of the air, but now you could feel it clearly.

When you reached the rectangular window, you turned around, folding your hands behind your back and leaning against them, rather than the icy stone wall. Every now and then, a bolt of lightning would cut through the dark sky, lighting it up for a moment before fading back to black. You could hear the sound of the droplets as they hit the window; you had always liked storms, and this was no exception. It lent a certain kind of intimacy to the entire situation, knowing that you were in here with Saix, sheltered from the downpour outside.

Your head tilted slightly to the side as you returned his gaze curiously. From a distance, you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring his form. The black fabric of his pants was a nice contrast against his lightly-tanned skin, and without the concealing coat of the Organization uniform, he was even more attractive than usual.

Somewhat to your surprise, you saw his heated golden eyes roam over your own body for a moment before he stood up, crossing the room to you. Placing one finger beneath your chin, he tilted your head back so you were looking up at him. He leaned forward, and his lips brushed across yours fleetingly.

At the same time, he took hold of your thigh, lifting it until your leg was pressed against his waist. You automatically reached up to steady yourself against him, but he didn’t pick you up the way he had before. Instead, the hand that had been resting beneath your chin made its way down your body, coming to a halt between your legs once more.

For a few moments, he simply caressed the silky skin of your inner thighs, never touching where you wanted him the most. Then finally, soft as a whisper, he stroked a single finger along your entrance. His eyes narrowed slightly as he felt the slickness that had accumulated. Slowly, he pressed the digit into you, and your warmth enveloped him, making the grip you had on his shoulders tighten involuntarily. He explored your depths, testing. Suddenly, he brushed against a certain place, and the pleasure you were feeling changed marginally. You jumped in response, making him smile.

His movements cautious, he slipped a second finger in with the first, pausing to give you a moment to become accustomed to the intrusion. You were snug around him, but not painfully so. Twisting his hand so that his palm was facing upward, he once again found the place within you that had elicited such a reaction the first time, and began to caress it, adding more pressure after the first few strokes. At the same time, his thumb went to the bundle of nerves above your entrance, and began to manipulate it, abandoning all sense of subtlety this time. He was no longer testing, but actively working you towards climax.

Shocks of pleasure rocked through you, and you closed your eyes, leaning forward and resting your head against his neck. Balanced on one foot, you had to rely on him to keep you steady, but he obliged without complaint. After a moment, a thought occurred to you, and you slid one hand down over his chest, until you found the top of his pants. He’d said that you couldn’t touch yourself, but he’d never said anything about not being able to touch him. And with his hands busy, he couldn’t complain this time.

Your fingers found the top button, and flicked it open. Reaching inside, you soon came into contact with his length, the skin hot against your flesh. You smiled as you felt him stiffen against you, and he twitched in your hand. It seemed that he wasn’t expecting you to do this. Good; you liked taking him by surprise. It didn’t happen often, and it always felt like a small victory when you were able to pull it off. These kinds of responses were what you had been hoping for. It seemed you had finally been able to break through the icy shell he usually kept wrapped around himself, since everything he had done since he found you in the Addled Impasse had been filled with heat, and even passion. It was a far cry from that emotionless kiss you’d shared on the ledge overlooking that canyon.

Slowly at first, you began to stroke him, your fingers gliding from the tip to the base, then back again. The skin was velvety soft, you realized, and you tightened your grip a bit. His breath caught; he wasn’t immune to what you were doing, even though you weren’t able to focus, thanks to the pleasure you were feeling. It clouded your mind, so you were only able to devote a portion of your attention to him. No matter; you would make up for it soon enough.

Though you couldn’t see his face, as yours was currently resting against his neck, you could feel his eyes on you; he was doing exactly what he had told you earlier – learning the places that caused the most pleasure in you, so he could use them again at a later point. He got what he wanted; it wasn’t long before your legs began to tremble again as the sensations slowly started to climb. He took a firmer hold on you, providing some additional support so the shaking didn’t cause you to fall.

You shuddered as the telltale beginnings of pressure began to build in your lower belly, and the hand that was stroking him went still; it was impossible to concentrate on more than one thing at a time like this. Your eyes slid shut, and your muscles started to tense as the coil prepared to snap. But just before you could reach your peak, infuriatingly, he stopped the motions of his fingers, pulling them away and releasing your thigh, so you stood on two feet once more. This movement also caused your hand to slip from his length, so he was out of your reach.

A breathy sigh of frustration and disappointment reached his pointed ears as he pulled you back to him. “We’re not finished yet,” he informed you. “Be patient, and you’ll have what you want. But I told you that I was going to show you a little of what might happen if you disobeyed me. I believe I proved my point vividly, don’t you agree?”

You looked away, your brow furrowing. He had left you extremely uncomfortable, and all you wanted him to do was finish what he had started, as quickly as possible. But on the other hand, you also wanted to give him what he wanted, and that was your obedience. You enjoyed his dominance, even though you knew that giving in to it meant you would probably end up feeling this way again. But in the end, it would be worth it. He had promised you that, and you didn’t hesitate in believing him. Saix was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them.

“Look at me,” he commanded suddenly, and your eyes returned to his golden ones. He placed another kiss on your lips, reaching down and taking your small hand in his much larger one. Slowly, he guided it to the bulge you could see straining against the front of his pants. When he was sure that you were going to keep that hand in place, he took hold of your hips, pulling you backwards until he came up against the edge of the bed. He sat down, leaving enough room so that he could tug you down with him.

One elegant eyebrow arched as he watched you; he didn’t need to say anything more. He wanted you to continue what you had been doing. Even though he had denied you the release you so desperately wanted, you had no reservations about giving him more of the same pleasure he had provided you. Reaching down, you pulled off his boots, and then finished unbuttoning his pants. Slowly, you began to draw the material down over his hips.

You had to resituate yourself slightly so he could kick them off, but as soon as he did, your hand immediately found his hard length, and began to stroke him gently. As you worked over him, you leaned forward, placing a kiss at the hollow of his throat. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes. At the same time, he leaned back slightly, bracing himself on his hands once more. While his posture might have been relaxed, you could tell that he was enjoying himself; every now and then, his body would twitch with pleasure, and his breathing was a bit faster than normal.

Moving up his neck, you nibbled gently at the skin, but decided not to repeat the impulsive action that had gotten you in trouble in the first place. When you reached the bottom of his chin, you jumped suddenly to his mouth, raising yourself up on your knees and straddling him so that you were able to reach him better. He responded to the kiss just as fiercely as he had done before, and even gave a soft hiss when your hand tightened around him, taking a firmer grip. You had been hesitant at first, not sure how much pressure to use, but now you were getting a better idea, and were able to experiment a bit more as your confidence grew.

When you broke the kiss, you sat back down in the position you had been in earlier; in his lap, with your legs on either side his waist. You kept enough distance between you that you had the room to continue the motion of your hand, but at the same time, close enough that you could see his responses to your touch in detail.

And what responses they were. He was still quiet – not that you had expected any different – but you could feel the reactions of his body, whether he voiced them aloud or not. His abdomen was tensed, and occasionally, he would move his hips when you hit a particularly sensitive spot. It was very clear now why he had forbidden you from touching yourself. Seeing him like this, knowing that you were the cause of it… It was indescribable. There was a sense of power in it, to be sure, but there was also pride and satisfaction, knowing that you had the ability to cause your partner to be able to feel these things. You could get used to this.

As the minutes passed, Saix’s reactions to your touch grew stronger, until he couldn’t keep still any longer, and he was all but panting. But suddenly, his golden eyes opened, and he caught your wrist in one hand, making you go still. “Enough,” he growled, his voice rough with pleasure. “I’m still not finished with you yet.”

Your eyebrows raised, and you let your hands fall to your lap. This was unexpected. Not only had he denied you release, but now he was doing it to himself. The man had ironclad self-control; you had to admit that you were impressed. It was difficult to stop just moments before a climax, when every nerve in your body was screaming for it.

Something clicked into place within your mind then. This wasn’t just about him proving something to you; if it was, he wouldn’t have denied himself release. You knew what he was up to. By stopping himself – and you – from achieving climax, he was insuring that when he eventually allowed it, the feeling would be even greater than usual. This was something you had heard of before, though you’d never had the inclination to try it for yourself.

Until now.

At least you weren’t in it alone, though. He was now feeling every bit as uncomfortable as you were. But not for much longer, as he slid to the edge of the bed, kneeling down on the floor. Pulling you to him, he slid one hand up the center of your body, prompting you to lay back. As you did, he took hold of your legs, draping them over his arms. The bed was low enough that he was able to position himself at your entrance, and he gently pushed forward.

You gave a soft gasp at the feeling of him sliding into you; it was a bit uncomfortable at first, but he moved slowly, giving you a chance to become used to him. While he was doing this, he leaned forward over you, taking the peak of one breast in his mouth and running his tongue over it. Your own arms came up to twine over his shoulders, and you gripped him tightly as you felt him begin to move, rocking his hips into you, then back again.

The discomfort you were feeling began to die away as he established a steady rhythm. It was slow at first, until he was sure that you were feeling no pain, and then the pace increased, becoming a bit rougher. His mouth released you, and he trailed up your neck, leaving soft bites in his path.

He was now moving his hips with enough force to cause you to rock back against the bed, and a steady flow of heat was burning through your blood with each stroke he made. You could feel the pleasure beginning to spiral back into a knot in your lower belly. His ragged breathing matched yours, and you knew that he was feeling the same thing.

Suddenly, he leaned back, going still. He placed one hand on your stomach to hold you down, knowing that you were going to protest. Sure enough, when you realized what he had done, you tried to sit up, but he prevented you from doing so. Because of the loss of movement, your climax began to break apart, the pieces sinking back into dormancy. Again. For the second time, he had stopped you from finding release, one that promised to be even stronger this time.

“Stop doing that!” you cried, frustration filling your voice, along with a strong edge of desperation. You didn’t know if you could take him doing it a third time. Your nerves were already becoming more sensitive, and if he worked you up to the edge yet again, only to stop… It would actually be painful.

Saix glanced up at you, and in the dim light, his golden eyes almost seemed incandescent. Still buried within you, he wrapped his arms around your back, lifting you up. Once again changing your position, he placed you down so you were lying straight on the bed, and he turned you over so you were partially on your side, one leg bent at the knee.

He stretched out against you, his body halfway covering yours, one hand beneath your thigh to help keep your leg bent, the other curled around you, just below your chest. When the both of you were comfortable, he dropped all pretenses of being gentle, withdrawing, only to snap forward again, picking up a rapid rhythm that was more than a little rough. The hand that was rested on your abdomen slid down, and he located the aching cluster of nerves above your entrance. As soon as he touched it, a jolt of pleasure shot through you that was so intense, it made you give a soft cry.

“You are mine,” he murmured into your ear, his normally-smooth voice holding the slight edge of a growl. “Everything you’re feeling, everything you will feel…is mine.”

It only took a few more moments before the pleasure that he had denied you twice now began to reform, even stronger than it had been before. Pressed against him the way you were, you could feel that his powerful frame was trembling against you as his own climax approached. His fingers continued to work over the sensitive bud, driving you further and further towards your peak, and your mind grew hazy with the sheer overwhelming amount of stimulation your body was receiving. You couldn’t think straight; all you could do was wait for the inevitable storm to break.

And break it did. Searing pleasure ripped through you as your climax took hold of you, and you threw your head back to rest against his shoulder, his name a passionate cry on your lips as your vision went white. Your inner walls convulsed around him, and you shook in his hold as your muscles seized up as if you were being electrocuted. It was stronger than any release you had ever felt up to that point, and at last, you fully understood his torturous actions. It had been worth it, for this.

Saix was just a few seconds behind you, and you dimly heard him say your own name, though his voice was hoarse. He shuddered against you, clenching his teeth as mind-numbing pleasure rocked through him, setting his nerves alight. Even now, he was still quiet, you noted offhandedly. Well, you would just have to work on changing that in the future. For now, you were satisfied. More than satisfied; you felt like every ounce of ecstasy your body could ever produce had been wrung from you, leaving you exhausted.

For several long minutes, you lay twined together with your lover, trying to slow your breathing, and recover from what you had just experienced. Though you’d had reservations about him before, they had been swept away, and you were left with a feeling of contentment, even…happiness.

At last, you felt him slide out of you, and you turned over onto your stomach. He rested his head between your shoulderblades, and draped one arm possessively over your form. This feeling of being so close to him, not just physically, but perhaps even emotionally, too, was one that you knew you would never tire of. You could never admit it to him, since his beliefs were that such connections were both impossible and meaningless, but you hoped that one day, when your hearts were returned to you, they could become real, and you could share with him just how much he had come to mean to you. He was still distant, and somewhat cold, but you had seen glimpses of him that no one else had, except maybe Axel, back when the two of them were still whole.

Whether or not you would ever get him to admit it, a bond had been formed this night. Just as much as you belonged to him, now he belonged to you. Nothing could ever change that.

#kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kingdom hearts smut #organization xiii #organization xiii fanfiction #organization xiii smut #saix x reader #saix #larxene #xemnas #reader insert

[mishamoonberry]

A Change in Attitude

ERASING IMPOSSIBILITY CHAPTER 17 - AO3 / FFN

This chapter doesn’t have Oro-chan-san angst just yet, haha, I think it will appear soon in later chapters.

Thank you so much for your support!

Enjoy reading!!

17 days after Team Minato’s bell test

“Ugh,” is Obito’s eloquent reply to Minato-sensei’s announcement this morning after our daily warm-ups. The boy’s shoulders are sagging, his expression conveying exactly what he thinks about Minato-sensei’s words. “Minato-sensei, why must we take that mission? Another kind of D-rank is better than this!”

“Idiot,” Kakashi rolls his eyes, crossing his arms together as he stares at Obito rather distastefully. “You can’t choose every mission by yourself, idiot. You do what you’re given.” Though judging from his grimace when Minato-sensei announced it, he’s not particularly happy about the mission either.

Obito rolls his eyes in return, his expression somehow mirroring Shikako’s usual ‘I-am-so-done-with-everything-right-now’ expression, in which it’s a clear indication that he’s spent too much time around the Nara. “Yeah,” Obito stresses out, sounding a bit sarcastic, “but they’re D-ranks. Lots of civilians order D-ranks, so there are plenty we can choose from!”

“There’s nothing wrong with catching the cat, Obitobi-kun,” I decide to butt in, chirping happily. My hands are clasped around each other behind my back, and I have to restrain a cackle when Obito sends me a totally betrayed look.

“That’s because the cat likes you, Rin-chan,” he almost whines, his arms flailing about, “the demon almost destroyed my goggles the last time around!”

“I hope it gets destroyed today,” comes Kakashi’s soft mutter from beside me, and I have to elbow him in the stomach lest he says it aloud, making him grunt in a mix of surprise and irritation. Thankfully, it seems like Obito didn’t hear what Kakashi said, and thus no more arguments happen at the moment.

“Ranran isn’t that bad,” I try to placate, watching in amusement as both of them grimace the very moment I said it. The white feline may or may not be this era’s Tora the Demon Cat, considering she is owned by the Daimyo’s young wife, as well. She really isn’t that bad. The last time Team Minato had to catch her, she was willing enough to come to my arms when I tried to crouch and offer her some catnip. I might or might not have placed a soothing genjutsu on her though. Mikoto-sensei’s teaching on Genjutsu really helps a lot in times like this.

Oh well.

What Obito and Kakashi didn’t (and still don’t) know won’t hurt them.

Though I’m pretty sure Minato-sensei knows, judging from his amused glance at my absolutely sweet smile. Seems like I can’t get anything past him. Granted, he’s a Jounin, so… No surprise there, I guess.

He’s still a sadist, though.

He knows neither Obito or Kakashi fancy the cat catching mission. One, Kakashi is a dog person. Two, Obito holds a grudge over the Goggles Scratching Post Incident. Three, while tracking it is easy enough, considering Kakashi’s skills, catching the cat is the main problem in the mission.

I bet Minato-sensei laughs his ass off when the mission ended, the last time around. He didn’t help at all, saying it was a good team exercise and we even spotted him eating dango while watching us, the asshole.

“Alright, alright,” Minato-sensei claps his hands, finally taking charge before any more arguments can happen and breaking my thoughts about the past. “No complaining. A mission is a mission. Let’s finish this quickly, okay?”

Cue groaning ensues.

I smile.

They’re so easy and fun to rile.

19 days after Team Minato’s bell test

“Eh?”

The green chakra around my hands dissipates into nothing as I falter, staring up wide eyed at Kishimoto-sensei. In the Mind Palace, Rinny lets out an equally surprised noise, less because of Kishimoto-sensei’s ability to make both of our concentrations falter, but more because of what he chose to say to the both of us. The older man doesn’t seem to notice my sudden distress as he simply smiles easily and gently like usual, his dark brown eyes meeting my own without any hesitation.

“Like I said,” Kishimoto-sensei says, “I think it’s best if you avoid Oro-tan for a little while.”

“Eh?” I said, again, probably with a dumb expression.

That’s… Really unexpected.

I… Isn’t Kishimoto-sensei good friends with Oro-chan-san? I hastily ask Rinny, who seems to be rendered speechless as much as I am.

I don’t know, Rinny answers, shaking her head, there isn’t any character named Kishimoto in the series but… Kishimoto-sensei calls him Oro-tan, and he seems to be comfortable around Orochimaru-sama, so I thought…

This is really weird, I furrow my eyebrows, and really scary. Why do you think he tells us this all of a sudden?

Um, the Inner hesitates, maybe something happened?

“Uh,” I say outwardly, agreeing with Rinny to ask Kishimoto-sensei on what kind of shit happened to make him said that, “did something happen between Oro-chan-san and you, sensei?”

If anything, Kishimoto-sensei seems to brighten. “Oh, no, no! Nothing of the sort, really,” he waves his hand, “I just heard some rumors, that’s all. You’re my cute little student, and I don’t want your reputation to be stained because of the rumors surrounding Oro-tan.”

“What…?” I breathe out, finding myself very surprised.

“Just do as I told you to, okay, Rin-chan? It’s for your own good.”

For my own good? I can’t help but repeat a bit sardonically inwardly, even though I manage to nod at him, making him smile.

Perhaps—

Perhaps if Orochimaru really is beyond saving at this point of time—when he’s too deep in his experiments, in his desire to know more, to have more—then it really will be for my own good to stay away from him.

But is he really? Beyond saving, that is. Has he really fallen that deep already?

I’ve heard rumors circulating around Orochimaru before, mostly on how creepy he looks and how inhumane his knowledge as well as his repertoire of jutsu, but it’s very weird for Kishimoto-sensei to be wary of the rumors now, because I’m sure as hell those rumors have been around for quite a good while. Especially since Orochimaru looks stone faced whenever those rumors appear—as if it’s nothing of the ordinary, as if it’s to be expected from the people around him—and how he seems to shut himself off more whenever the rumors are within our hearing range. That’s why I always make it a point to scold whoever I find to be talking shit about him. Not only it probably puts me in Orochimaru’s good books—if he even has any—it also causes the miniscule tension in his shoulders and the stony look on his face to melt down completely into something more… soft.

Some shinobi will say I’m hallucinating, but there were certain instances where Orochimaru looks relaxed and completely at peace with himself.

Those are the moments when I was always reminded how human Orochimaru could be, can be.

And would have he stopped being human, the very moment he finds no reason to? As far as I am aware, Canon Rin never had any sort of interaction with Orochimaru whatsoever, and there was never shown an entity called Kishimoto Masashi in the series ever. But Canon world barely covers anything anyway, with how much plot holes it has, and perhaps, perhaps, the equivalent of Kishimoto-sensei did exist in canon.

Kishimoto-sensei is? Was? Close to Oro-chan-san, I mull over, frowning a little bit. If, say, someone who was close to Canon Orochimaru left him behind because of some rumors, would that be the catalyst that set him off the edge?

I’m perhaps guessing things too much here, but I really cannot help but to grasp on the last bits of hope that Orochimaru is not beyond saving. Not yet. I feel like Jiraiya, at this point, or even Sarutobi Hiruzen, for still believing in the good of Orochimaru, for still hoping for a positive thing from the Snake Sannin—

If he really is beyond saving, Rinny says, cutting off my thoughts, what would you do?

I pause.

If he really is beyond saving… If he really, really, has become something similar to the villain that gave Sasuke the Cursed Seal in Canon world, there’s only one thing that I know I would do.

I would run the hell away from him.

He’s Sannin, and I’m just a Genin. I can’t capture or kill him. I’m not in the other Sannin’s or Sarutobi’s caliber. I would just get myself killed if I try to confront him (which shows how suicidal Naruto must be, to throw himself at Orochimaru in his rage and bout of irrationality).

And I… would be sad.

Disappointed, maybe. Because I still believe that Orochimaru can change, somehow. That the soft, insecure man I’ve seen in passing from time to time is there and living and that he still has some good in his heart, somewhere.

Still, there’s not much point in thinking about it now.

I still do not know Orochimaru’s current state. But the last time I’ve seen him, he’s still as normal as ever. I am going to have myself stick with my last Probably Not Reliable assessment of him: that he’s still redeemable and can be steered away from being a traitor, somehow.

I’m not going to let a rumor and a warning from someone who believes on rumors change my perception of Orochimaru. Not even if Kishimoto-sensei is my teacher whom I respect and trust.

It will simply make me more careful, of course; because there are usually small truths within rumors.

Still, whether Orochimaru is beyond saving or not, I will only know when I see him next time.

21 Days after Minato’s Bell Test

“Yahoo, Minato’s little minions!” A familiar voice calls out from the corner of the training grounds, and I perk up. My gaze instantly goes to the source of the voice, Kakashi, Obito and Minato-sensei doing the same. While Obito blinks in confusion at the newcomer, Kakashi simply stares, looking as if he’s restraining a sigh.

Minato-sensei and I, though, we’re grinning widely. The only difference is that Minato-sensei looks more lovesick and dopey than I do.

(I miss the assessing look Kakashi throws at me the very moment he sees me going all goo-goo eyes on Kushina, as well as his furrowed eyebrows when he catches an idea on what’s going on with me at that very moment).

I have to restrain a snort. Hopeless, this one. He’s so whipped, I can see it in his expression.

“Kushina-san!” I greet her, cheerful. The red haired woman approaches us with a grin, her hand already reaching forward to ruffle my hair gently. “What are you doing here?”

“I was bored,” comes Kushina’s answer, “So I thought why not visit Minato’s little minions. I see you’re still as grumpy as ever, Kakashi-kun,” she glances at Kakashi, giving him a teasing smile. Kakashi harrumphs in retaliation.

“And I haven’t met the other minion yet!” She moves toward Obito, bending down to look at him in eye level, watching in amusement when Obito yelps in surprise. “Yo, kiddo, I’m Uzumaki Kushina, Minato’s girlfriend.”

Obito’s expression clears, then, lighting up as if he has some sort of an epiphany. “Oh! I’m Uchiha Obito!” He says, “It’s nice to meet you, Uzumaki-san.”

“Eh, just call me Kushina,” the jinchuuriki waves her hand flippantly, “How about Kushina nee-chan?” She glances at me, “You can call me that too, Rin-chan”.

I brighten up. There is no way I’m gonna pass up this chance! “Kushina-nee-chan!” I exclaim happily.

“Kushina nee-chan, then,” Obito seems to like Kushina too, because he’s smiling as he says it.

Then, the rest of us stares at Kakashi.

The boy looks a bit uncomfortable, but glances away as he says, “…Kushina-san.”

Kushina exaggeratedly pouts, scooting over to poke Kakashi in the stomach. The boy jumps a little, glaring lightly when I snort.

“You’re no fun, Kakashi-kun!”

“…Whatever, Kushina-san.”

“Tch,” Kushina clicks her tongue. Though she’s obviously still in good humor, considering how she still looks happy (and very, very pretty, oh gosh) as she stands up, smacking Minato’s shoulder. “You’ve gotten yourself cute little minions here, Minato!”

“They’re my student, Kushina…” Minato says with a laugh, rubbing his shoulder.

“Students, minions, same thing,” she ignores Kakashi’s mutter of ‘it’s different’ and grins, her hands positioned on her hips, “anyway, you’re not planning anything particular for them today, right?”

Minato blinks. “Well, no, not exactly. Why?”

I have a bad feeling about this. And beside me, Kakashi seems to share the sentiment, considering how he is staring at Kushina warily, as if expecting her to suddenly pounce him or something.

“Well,” Kushina sounds super cheerful as she stares us down, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I wanna play tag.”

The three of us are frozen, and even Minato-sensei seems to gulp. Either out of fear or arousal, I do not know, but either way, I totally understand him at this moment. Kushina looks predatory¸ and for a second I wonder who is the true sadist in the relationship: Minato or Kushina. I don’t have time to dwell on that more though, because she moves into a stance, causing us three genins to be more alert than before.

“I’m gonna be it,” she grins at us, meeting our eyes one by one, “you have five minutes to escape and try to hide. Starting from now.”

We run like our asses are on fire.

XXX

So.

Both of them are closet sadists.

Aside from the fact that Minato-sensei seems to be torn between being worried for our lives or being very turned on at the sight of his girlfriend stomping us to the ground, he still chooses to sit back and watch everything unfold, with a lop sided smile, while eating dango.

And Kushina seems to hold back when she’s catching us, but not enough.

Seriously, she uses her chains to hold Kakashi down on the ground!

Despite myself being tired as fuck and sore, I can’t help but grin and laugh and just in sheer awe.

She’s so cool. Kushina-nee is so cool.

It’s still terrifying though, and she even cackles while attacking us with her chains.

The rest of the afternoon is spent with screaming and yelling children, and a cackling Red Hot Habanero.

Author’s note:

Hello.

I want to apologize for the long wait and the short chapter. As I have mentioned in the latest announcement, I’m having problems both in real life and in writing itself. Making long chapters is beginning to be very taxing for me, whose mind tend to wander here and there most of the time.

I’ve told you this before and some of you have kindly answered my question, therefore I’ve decided to make each chapters shorter than usual. I used to produce 5k-7k words each chapter, and it’s VERY tiring for me. From now on my chapters will be 1k-2k in length, more if I get lucky, and I hope that you can still like my story despite that. Updates will perhaps be faster as well; mostlikely once every two or three weeks.

#erasing impossibility #naruto #misha writes

[ecotone99]

[SF] The Windigo Virus

Chapter One

It was the middle of June, the day was warm and muggy. Kyle was sitting and reading his favorite book “Little Women.” Kyle’s son, Ama, walked into the living room. “Did you finish practicing?” Kyle said to his son. “Yes, I finished practicing, father.” Kyle got up. “Time to go to the range, then.” Kyle got into his Chevy Impala from 1969, he put it into gear as his son got inside the car.

He drove to his private range on the mountains. It was a three-hour drive, his son waiting patiently in the back of the car, a pistol attached to his side. Once the car stopped, Kyle got out of the car. He turned to his son, “You were very brave through all of this, son.” Ama thanked his father. They got the shotguns and flamethrower out of the car and went on a one-hour hike up to the private range. On the way they ran into three beasts on the way, Kyle shot two directly in the heart with his silver bullets.

The last one knocked him over it was on top of him, it was scratching at Kyle, “Dad!” Ama screamed. Ama unholstered his pistol, he shot the beast in the heart, killing it upon the shot. Kyle got up, “Good shot son, your training is working…” Kyle Ama helped his father up. Kyle and Ama checked for wounds. He had a bite on his arm. Kyle applied a tourniquet, cleaned, and bandaged his arm.

Kyle’s arm stopped bleeding after a few minutes, he removed the tourniquet. They reached the range, Ama trained under Kyle’s supervision. Each shot a loud POP!... POP!... POP!... They shot the rounds without earplugs, this trained their ears to be strong. After they were done shooting they headed home.

Chapter Two

Kyle sat on his couch with his husband. They turned on the television set and watched “Train To Busan.” After they were done crying from the ending Kyle said: “Hey, Adam, could you go cook that venison for me?” “Sure, hon,” Adam replied. Ama came downstairs from his room on the fourth floor. “Hey, guys!” He exclaimed. “Is dad cooking already?” “Yep.” Said Kyle.

Kyle walked over to his son, “Are you ready to start your training? It is a dangerous world, and you need to learn to defend yourself.” Ama looked saddened, “Father, I don’t want to use violence.” Kyle’s face hardened “You’ve turned fourteen! You are going to learn!” Ama lowered his chin. “Yes, father,” Kyle yelled out to his husband: “We’ll be back by dinner!”

Kyle took Ama to their private range in the mountains, he showed Ama how to shoot. Ama took the gun, he shot off a round, he flinched at the noise and went way off target. “OW!” He yelled, “Do not flinch, aim, breathe, and shoot!” Ama shot the gun again, hitting the paper… on the far down right corner. “This kept happening until Kyle called it quits. “Let’s head home.” He said, “We will return later.”

When they returned home Kyle heard a loud crash. “Stay here, ” he said to Ama. He walked into the house, he saw his husband. “Are you alright hon?” He asked him. Adam quickly turned around, he charged at Kyle, Kyle saw he was different. His nails had become large talons, most of his hair had fallen out, his eyes turned milky. Adam had blood around his mouth, he bared his teeth showing his sharp layers of teeth.

Kyle threw him off of himself, he ran to the storage room with Adam close behind. Kyle grabbed some rope, he tackled Adam and tied him. “What happened to you?!” He asked, worried. Adam snarled. Kyle took Adam to a bedroom, then went to the kitchen. He saw that Adam had taken a bite out of the deer meat.

No, he said to himself, it could not be the venison. Could it? Kyle went back to the car and told Ama to get into the house, he was paranoid. They both went into the kitchen, Kyle turned on the television and switched it to the news. “Chaos rampages the streets of America as a new virus called ‘The Windigo Virus’ causes people to commit cannibalism against their own will. Named after the infamous Windigo Myth from Native American folklore. Symptoms of this virus are Elongated finger and toenails, very sharp ROWS of teeth, hair loss, and the craving of human flesh.

Scientists and doctors alike think that this virus comes from infected deer meat, maybe originating from Delaware.” T television screen then said NO SIGNAL. “Wow.” He said, “This has got to be fake. Right?” He looked to Ama. Ama shrugged.

“I don’t know.” Kyle then proceeded to try to call every he knew, each call never going through, all he could hear was BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! He then called the police, the same outcome. BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! He asked Ama for his phone, the same thing happened. Kyle then said to his son the most depressing and terrifying thing anyone can say; “I think the world is ending.” Kyle went to his feral husband's side, he then said to Adam, “I will try to fix you to my last breath…”

Chapter Three

Kyle was in the woods now, they were out of all foods. They needed to hunt. Kyle drew back his bow, about to kill the seventh rabbit for the group. “Father!” Ama yelled. “Someone is at the gate!” Kyle went to see about the person at the gate, it was a woman, her name was Lilly.

Ama checked for an infection and let her in, he kept guard for the rest of the day. They brought on another member into their sanctuary, they now had five in their ranks. It has been three weeks since the disaster. They knew that rabbit meat was the only kind of meat that didn’t make you turn, how did they know that? Well, they used to have twenty people, now they have three live windigos in the storage unit and eighteen windigo corpses. Rabbits were somehow immune to it. They had a doctor named Henry in their sanctuary as well. He was trying to find a cure to the whole thing. He had a sample of rabbit blood to start.

Kyle went to sleep and had a terrible dream, a windigo was chasing him through the woods. Ama was calling from behind him but he could not move or call back, he was trying but he was paralyzed with fear in everything but his legs, he couldn’t stop running! The windigo was closing in on him. Run! Run! Run! He said himself. The windigo caught up to him, it tackled him. The windigo raised its talons! At that moment Kyle woke up screaming.

It was Kyle's turn for guard duty this day, it had been three months since the disaster, they gathered up enough people to have ten in their ranks. It was especially hard for guard duty these days since the windigos developed armor a charcoal armor plating on all of their body except their heart. The only thing that could pierce the skin to the heart was a silver bullet. Why? This is unknown, but it sure works. Flames also work to burn them, but this only distracts them and stuns them. It will make them furious.

Chapter Four

Kyle was wondering about the dream he had, it was haunting him. Kyle was hoping the feeling of paranoia would pass. It never did. “Dad!” Yelled Ama, “It’s Amanda’s turn for guard duty! Go ahead and rest.” Kyle climbed down from the post as Amanda climbed up.

Kyle shouldered his rifle and headed inside, he sat on the couch. Kyle drifted off to sleep, closing his ash-covered eyes. He had the same horrifying dream. Except for this time, no voices called to him, he was alone, in this terrifying world. Amanda woke Kyle up, “Kyle! You have to see this!” Kyle followed Amanda to the edge of the gates, he saw the windigos, but they were different.

Their skin turned charcoal grey, fur has grown on their legs and face, their form was elongated they were eight feet long! Their faces turned into snouts, and most terrifying of all their rib cages were showing! They were covered in blood. Kyle was horrified by the windigo’s new form. Kyle ran back into the house, remembering his husband that he locked in the storage room. When he entered the house there was a loud screeching noise, it paralyzed him for a moment. He then ran to the downstairs storage room, he saw Adam, he was mutated. Following closely behind him, Amanda shot Adam in the heart, as well as the two beasts following him. “NO!”

Yelled Kyle and Ama, they rushed to Adam’s corpse, crying. Amanda yelled out, “What are you freaks hiding in your basement?!” Kyle and Ama kept crying over Adam’s corpse, doctor Henry rushed in to see what the shots were, he looked at the now dead windigos, he yelled out “What were you thinking, Amanda?!” Henry then took the rifle away from Amanda. Kyle walked out of the house in tears. He then saw a person walking up to the gate, he was injured. “Help!” He cried out. Kyle rushed to the gate, he checked for an infection and let him in.

His name was Caleb. Later that night, at dinner Amanda looked very worried, “What’s wrong?” Asked Henry. “We cannot accept any more people.” She said, “Our food rations are very low.” She was then hushed, Amanda unholstered her pistol and then shot Caleb in the chest. Everyone reached for their weapons, “I had to!” Amanda shouted, “Our lives were in danger!” Kyle then shot Amanda in the heart. They now had four people in their house.

Chapter Five

Kyle was awaiting the come of the windigos on his watchtower he had his flamethrower by his side, his rifle shouldered. Kyle was terribly bored, then suddenly he saw a tall windigo standing right outside of rifle range. He waited, his gun ready, he was aiming at the windigo’s heart waiting for it to move in range of his rifle. The windigo moved into range, and without hesitation Kyle shot the beast. At that moment Ama went near the watchtower, he looked scared, “Father!” Ama shouted, “Come down here!” When Kyle came down from the watchtower and Lilly took his place he asked Ama what was wrong.

Ama then replied with “We are out of food!” Kyle paused, thinking of what to do, I can’t hunt anymore, it is too dangerous. Ama then said “What are we going to do?” Kyle stared outside of the gate, he then turned to Ama, “I have to go gather some supplies, it will have to be years worth of food and ammunition, so I will have to bring the SUV with me.” They both looked at the eight-seat SUV and Ama shook his head, “No I have to go with you.” He said, “I can do it!” Kyle shook his head as well, “You can’t it is way too dangerous.”

“Please!” Ama pleaded. Kyle thought about letting Ama go with him to gather food, “Fine.” He reluctantly agreed. Kyle told Lilly and Henry that they were leaving, Lilly was very scared. “No!” She said, “You can’t go, we will die!” Henry agreed with Lilly saying, “The two of us can’t switch guard duty every day! We will get exhausted!” Kyle reassured them and said, “Relax, we will be gone a few days at most, and you two can last that long if you hunt inside the sight of each other. Also, you two will be able to switch for three days.” Henry and Lilly nodded, hesitating slightly. Then Kyle and Ama set off, heading towards the city.

Chapter Six

Kyle was driving, he didn’t know if where he was driving was the right way. He had been driving for ten hours straight. His son, Ama, was fast asleep. Kyle finally saw a building, it was a gas station. Kyle locked the car when he got out, he entered the gas station after he checked for the beasts.

The store was almost cleared out, he got all of the food, drinks, and energy drinks he could carry and hurried out to the car. He knocked on the window and Ama unlocked the car. He put the food and drinks in the back and the energy drinks up front. He drove to what the signs said was Smyrna. When they got there Kyle had about five hundred milligrams of caffeine in him, so he was alert.

They entered Smyrna, the nearest grocery store was called “Kroger.” They walked into Kroger and Kyle drew his weapon and had Ama get behind him, he got a cart. The grocer was dead, he had a gun drawn and was in a pool of blood. “Go pick up his gun.” Kyle said to Ama, “You will need it.”

Ama went over to the grocer’s dead body and picked up the 44. Magnum. Ama then went back to his father. Kyle walked down the isles and filled the cart up with everything he could, he then ran to the van with Ama. He loaded the supplies and Ama into the van and got in. Kyle then drove out, but something caught his eye. A gun store called “Specialty Arms II.”

Kyle parked in the parking lot of the store. He walked in with Ama, the door was barricaded. He pushed down the barricade with all of his strength and entered the store. He heard a loud shot that landed right next to him “STOP!” The shooter shouted.

Kyle ran to cover with Ama, they were both unscathed. “Why would you do that?!” The shooter asked, he then shouldered his rifle and repaired the barricade, fortifying it even more. Seconds later the barricade was shaking, the beasts were trying to break through. “Quick!” He yelled, “Get to the roof!”

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