#but anyways. those are the spike trees and the lines in the lower part are the rivers and streams flowing with and against gravity | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amesstm · 3 years

Text

Nose Bleeds: Part 1

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Word Cout: 1692

A/N: sorry for taking a week off! I was drowned with schoolwork and then did some college visits. I’ll try to keep up with my set schedule! Also, this is my first Haikyuu story because it has taken over my life. Plus, thank you to whomever made the gif!

“Got it!” You exclaimed as you dug the volleyball towards your setter.

“Good Y/L/N!” Your friends cheered. The set ended with another point for your team.

Your team crowded towards the center of your side of the court. Amongst the trees known as your teammates, you looked like a shrub in comparison. Of course, your short stature was an advantage since you were the libero but it was always funny seeing as you only made it up to their shoulders or chests.

After bowing to the opposing team, your friend Tendo rushed to congratulate you. He swept you off of your feet – which wasn’t very difficult – and swung you around like a doll. “You did amazing, Y/N!”

You giggled as he set you down, “Thank you Tendo. But I could still use some work.”

Tendo grinned mischievously and wiggled his eyebrows, “I think I know how you can solve that.”

“No!” You whispered harshly. “I won’t take you up on that idea!”

“Please?” He whined, clutching onto your cheeks like you were a puppy. “I think it’d be a good chance for you two to get closer. There’s only so much time before we all graduate.”

You sighed, “I know, but I can’t even be around him! I’m as good as a rock when I try to talk to him.”

“Well, he’s more or less a rock in general,” Tendo acknowledged with a shrug. “Why not just one practice with Miracle Boy?”

You bit your lip and avoided looking at Tendo’s convincing smile. If he could control you like a Sim, you were sure your romance levels with Ushijima would be off the charts.

Of course, you wanted to get closer to Ushijima in the last months you had before you inevitably went your separate ways, but again – there were only a few months left. The boy seemed as dense as ever, never having understood what you tried to say to him in the first place. Then again, it might’ve been because you were incredibly flustered.

But, if you had only a few months left, why not enjoy it?

You sighed in defeat, “Okay, I’ll try one practice.”

“Finally!” Tendo jumped into the air from sheer excitement. “You’ll redeem yourself from the last time you tried to talk to him.”

A groan escaped your mouth, “Please don’t ever mention that again.”

Obviously, Tendo would always mention it. He would never forget when you tried to ask the tall boy if he could sit lower so you could see the board during class. Before you mustered the confidence, you could only rely on hearing the teacher to take notes. Even Ushijima’s broad shoulders prevented you from looking around him.

So, you finally tried asking him. By asking, you meant getting so shy that you were a whispering mess. In the end, you failed and had to ask to be moved up front. So much for being able to admire Ushijima’s back muscles.

“If you two get married, I’ll have a whole presentation of all the times you were shy around him,” Tendo teased.

“Do you want me to smack you on the head?” You threatened.

He smirked, “Can you reach?”

How did you let Tendo convince you to do this? Did he secretly enjoy your suffering? You saw Ushijima walking to the gym for volleyball practice, as usual. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, urging you to beat them down. Breathe in and out. Inhale. Exhale.

Okay, you got this.

You stepped towards Ushijima, who noticed you immediately. His olive eyes peered down at you, looking curious. No doubt, he thought you were looking for Tendo. He was about to open his mouth to ask, but you beat him to speak first.

“Hi Ushijima. I know we don’t speak much, but would you mind practicing with me?” You asked as calmly as possible. Yet inside, your heart was pounding wildly.

He only blinked, so you elaborated. “I want to work more on my defense so I’d really appreciate if you would serve for me.”

“Why practice with me?” His baritone voice rippled. You were suddenly reminded of your thoughts about what it’d be like to rest your head on his chest. The thought made you blush and widen your eyes. Surely, you must’ve looked like a deer in headlights.

So, you faltered slightly. “W-well, I wanted to be able to practice with someone outside of my team.”

“Is Tendo not willing?” Ushijima asked, surprised that you two wouldn’t practice together first. He always saw you two attached at the hip. If Ushijima didn’t know that Tendo only saw Y/N as a friend, he would’ve mistaken them for a couple. Except for the fact that Tendo treats you like a little sister regarding your height.

You rubbed the back of your neck with a soft laugh, “I think Tendo would distract me more than anything.”

Ushijima resisted the urge to smile. Instead, the prodigy nodded with understanding, “Then we’ll practice tomorrow.”

For the first time, Tendo saw Ushijima smiling for no reason. It wasn’t one of his forced smiles when someone asked if he could ever smile. Those smiles were terrifying. However, this smile was different. Tendo had a gut-feeling that he knew why, but he would love to hear the reason.

“Hm, is there a special reason why you’re smiling?” Tendo teased, winking at his friend. He leaned over towards Ushijima with sparkles twinkling in his eyes.

Ushijima’s mouth returned to his firm line, secretly embarrassed at being caught. “Why do you want to know?”

“Is it because of Y/N?” Tendo asked in a whisper, using his hand so only Ushijima can hear.

Y/N and Ushijima didn’t know, but Tendo has been acting as Cupid ever since he found out they liked each other. For Ushijima, Tendo noticed the quiet boy looking at her more than anyone else, even with all his admirers. For you, it was because you couldn’t talk to him at all despite your radiating confidence. Of course, he was right. When was Tendo’s intuition ever wrong?

“I’m surprised that she asked me instead of you,” Ushijima muttered.

“Hm?”

“I thought I scared her.”

Perhaps all the times you were unable to speak to him was interpreted incorrectly on Ushijima’s end. It would make sense, given that he was intimidating for most people in the first place. It was even worse looking at the two interact. To anyone it would seem like he was scaring you.

Tendo sighed before he giggled, “It’s in a good way. Trust me.”

“Being scary is a bad thing,” Ushijima said with a hint of confusion in his voice.

His friend sighed and clasped his face, “What will I do with you?”

For you, tomorrow came too soon. Your nerves made you arrive earlier than necessary – 20 minutes early to be exact. You wanted to warm up a bit beforehand, just so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of him.

You tied your hair up and put on your knee and elbow pads. Then, you decided to stretch out your legs. Spreading your feet out to match shoulder length, you sighed as you pushed yourself towards the ground. Luckily, you seemed to have the flexibility of a gymnast so you easily touched the floor.

“You’re here early,” a deep voice rumbled behind you. You look through your legs to see Ushijima. His eyes quickly averted from the position you were in.

You unraveled yourself, maintaining eye contact with him. As much as you could anyways, without combusting on the spot. “Yeah, I just wanted to stretch.”

He grunted, “We’ll start in a moment then.”

For a second, you watched him set down his belongings. The apples of his cheeks reddened slightly as he gulped. You raised an eyebrow, and then died a little inside when you realized why.

A few minutes of silence passed, until Ushijima called you to attention. He stood at the opposite end of the court, ready to serve. The absolute focus in his eyes ignited a sense of admiration within you. He smacked the ball in front of him, before looking ready.

You nodded. Not a second later, you were making contact with a ball he served. You’ve seen him serve before. A gunshot would ring out in the court, with the ball only making an appearance after it landed on the opponent’s side. Yet you were able to connect with the ball. However, it felt like he was serving directly at you.

He made another deadly serve. Once more, you were able to dig the ball. Another.

“Hey,” you yelled across to the other side. “Are you just going to serve towards me or make me work for it?”

If you were closer to him, you would’ve been able to see a small smile form on his face. Instead, all you saw was a nod and heard a grunt. He served towards the middle this time. You sprinted towards it and took a roll to get it. Finally, you were able to feel out of breath and sweaty.

“Again!” You smiled like a maniac.

Another ball went towards the back corner. You were fully in control of your side of the court. Ushijima made sure you were light on your feet by purposefully making the ball hit the net before slowly falling on your side. After an hour, you felt a bit fatigued by running across the floor.

Perhaps that’s why you didn’t notice the ball coming right at your head. You fell to the ground, feeling like you just got hit by a car. Afterall, sometimes spikes can be over 100 km/her. You groaned, the lights on the ceiling blurring. The dulled sound of long, quick strides towards you overwhelmed your ears despite the ringing in your head.

“Y/N, your nose is bleeding. I’ll find a tissue and then we’re taking you to the nurse.”

You couldn’t respond, except with a groan. He muttered something about not being able to find any. Ushijima returned to your side, taking off his shirt. Luckily, your vision was returning. Then, your nose started bleeding more.

“Is this heaven?” You asked, dazed.

#ushiwaka #ushijima x y/n #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyu x reader #haikyū!!#haiku #haikyuu!!#tendou satori #haikyuu tendou

223 notes · View notes

ruewrites · 3 years

Text

I Wanna Hold Your Hand

AO3

TaBoL

Ship: Solomon/Asmodeus

Word Count: 2082

Warnings: Mild Violence

A/N: Day 4 of Solodeus Week! I decided to mix Royalty!Au with Curse. I will be updating TaBoL again after this week, but I hope you enjoy the lightness of this oneshot with the heaviness going on in the main story right now!

Asmo was more than delighted with their little predicament. Solomon, however, didn't exactly share his enthusiasm.

"Asmodeus, my palm is getting sweaty."

"But we get to hold hands!" Asmo squealed, "You love holding my hand!"

"True, but I also love to do things with my hands."

It was incredibly hard to read his spells right when the fifth born prince of Arcadia was on top of him and in his lap. It was incredibly hard to focus when he was also moving his hips against him and kissing along his neck. He was lucky that it hadn't been a more dangerous spell. But he also couldn't blame Asmo. After all, he was more than happy to be an active participant in his actions.

It wasn’t that he was unfamiliar with curses, no, in fact he was very familiar with them. Some minor ones could be useful for catching thieves, or wiggling the truth out of liars, but he never imagined that one like this would stick him to Asmodeus. Perhaps he should be wiser when choosing readings in Asmodeus’ company.

With a sigh he grabbed his book with his free hand and dragged Asmo with him to the edge of the bed. There had to be a way to undo this spell. Not that he didn’t like holding his hand, he loved holding his hand, but certain situations would call for him to use both of his hands. Not only that, but he and Asmo couldn’t always be together, and being stuck together when they needed to be in two places at once was rather inconvenient.

Asmo leaned against his shoulder, eyes glancing down to the book and back up to Solomon. Solomon’s lips moved ever so slightly as he looked over the words, trying to make sense of the text before him.

“This is nice,” Asmo chirped, interrupting his train of thought. “I like watching you read, you look very attractive when you’re focused.”

Solomon couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Well thank you, but focus requires quiet, and I’m going to need that in order to figure out what we need to do to fix this.” If he was able to poke Asmo’s nose he would have. So instead he placed a small kiss on it.

“I don’t think we need to fix it so quickly. I don’t think it’s that big of a problem."

"You'll think differently when we have things we need to get done, I don't think it is incredibly possible for us to function like this."

"But-"

"Shhhh. We'll be holding hands while I figure out what we need to do.”

Asmo seemed slightly satisfied with that answer and remained silent as Solomon continued to scan through the book.

***

“Solomon! Slow down!” Asmo squeaked, stumbling along behind the king. He’d called a carriage to take them to the outskirts of the kingdom. Just as their luck would have it, it appeared that Solomon was only missing one singular ingredient needed to fix their little screw up.

All the sudden he felt himself jerk back as his fiance dug his heels into the earth, “Asmo-”

“You almost took me through a mud puddle Solomon. A mud puddle! Do you realize how hard that would have been to get out of my clothes? You’re being such a reckless man!”

“Alright, alright, I apologize,” Solomon said, “But darling, you need to keep your voice down, we don’t know what could possibly be prowling around these parts.” As he spoke he noticed Asmo’s eyes go wide, fixed on something behind him.

Great.

Perfect.

Did he dare turn around or should he just curse his luck further?

Before he even had the chance to turn around, Asmo was yanking him out of the way. His eyes just managed to catch quills slicing the air where his head had been moments ago. The two of them stumbled off into a tree where Solomon finally got a glance at the creature. It had a humanoid face, surrounded by sharp quills, it’s body was that of a large cat, and it’s tail was spiked, thrashing widley. It’s fangs were bared towards them as Solomon tried to put himself in front of Asmo.

“I can’t get to my dagger,” Asmo whispered, “Not with my dominant hand anyways.”

Because Solomon was currently glued to it.

His eyes never left the beast. He couldn’t risk it pouncing and catching them off guard.

Being stuck together wasn’t too bad.

But being skewered together wasn’t something Solomon was looking to try.

“Just stay close,” Solomon whispered, bringing Asmo closer to him, “Listen and do exactly what I say when I say it."

Asmo's nod was so slight that Solomon barely registered it. They waited, letting their hunter circle them. Swaying back and forth, looking for an opening. This was the downside of being stuck like this. Yes Asmodeus was strong, and Solomon knew he could take care of himself, but he didn’t like the idea that he was the one putting him in danger. He should never intentionally be putting him in harm’s way.

He would put himself down first, but if something happened to one of them, they were both doomed. Asmodeus would have even less of a chance of surviving if he was stringing along his corpse. The stakes were higher than they normally would be.

His eyes drifted downwards to those sharp talons, the way they curled in the soil. He just needed the right moment, an opening.

Then the beast stopped.

"Left!" Solomon didn't give Asmo time to respond, yanking him along as the beast lunged for them. They stumbled onto the ground together, narrowly avoiding being slashed open.

But the beast was quick and agile. Solomon barely had the time to raise a shield above them before it pounced again. He could feel the strain on his body with each blow that came down onto the barrier. This creature really wasn’t going to give up until it had them both between its jaws.

He’d failed his kingdom.

He’d failed Asmo.

He’d failed.

At least he could die in his love’s arms.

“Solomon-”

“Asmo, I’m so sorry that things are going this way. I-”

“That’s great darling, but look underneath us,” Asmodeus sounded oddly calm. Solomon debated if he should take his eyes off of the furious creature before them.

“Darling,” he could hear the exasperation in Asmo’s voice, and soon a flower was in his line of vision, “While I love the dramatics you’re putting on, isn’t this the little flower that was in your book?” If they weren’t about to be eaten by a giant beastie, Solomon could have kissed him. His absolutely wonderful Asmodeus.

Solomon’s grin was wider than the maw of the creature, “Perfect! That is exactly what I was looking for, now put a petal in my mouth.”

“Excuse me?”

Solomon hissed as the creature threw itself against the shield once more and his magic flickered. “Asmodeus please just do it.”

Asmodeus quickly placed a petal on his tongue and Solomon started to chew. Then, once he thought it was good enough, he spat it onto their hands.

“Ew Solomon!” Asmo screeched, but Solomon would make it up to him later.

Their hands were now freed, but Solomon wasn’t sure how much he would be able to do after he drained more of his powers trying to keep the beast at bay. All he knew was that he’d do anything in his power to keep Asmodeus safe, even if that meant providing a distraction long enough for him to run. All he had to do now was prepare himself to take the wall down. All he had to do was breathe and think of Asmo’s wonderful smile.

But he didn’t even get to think too much about anything aside from that.

As the beast reared, Solomon lowered the shield, and then a figure darted past him. A terrible screech echoed all around them as Asmo plunged his dagger deep into its chest and twisted. He didn’t let up, didn’t let go. Even as it toppled backwards, Asmo pressed forwards staying on top of it until it’s thrashing movements came to a halt.

Asmo’s back rose and fell as he removed his dagger. Blood splatter sprayed his front and his arms, his dagger glistened a dark crimson. His hand raised to his head, and then he hesitated, a look of disgust crossing his face.

Solomon wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the image sent a wonderful red color straight to his cheeks. Something inside of him wanted to ravish the prince. But Asmo smacked his hand away as soon as he went to reach for him.

“Oh no. Nuh uh. Who told you it was okay to spit on my hand? My husband should know better! That was absolutely revolting,” he snapped. The tip of his dagger rested on his chest, but Solomon didn’t even flinch. Instead he brought his hands up and gently cupped Asmo’s face.

“I’m sorry my love, I did what I had to, but I promise that I can make it up to you.”

Asmo raised an eyebrow.

“How about a nice warm bath where I tend to you and spoil you?”

Asmo’s eyebrow raised a little higher.

Oh he was insatiable.

“Perhaps I could call the tailor in? I could get new clothes made and ordered for you, maybe even get your crown shined?”

Asmo let out a sigh and dropped his dagger from Solomon’s chest, “I suppose we can talk about it.”

He was forgiven.

Solomon took that moment to press a kiss to Asmo’s lips, “Good. Now, why don’t we head back and get you cleaned up before more trouble manages to find us.”

The walk back was a lot less eventful, and Solomon could feel his bones start to ache. His eyes glanced over to Asmodeus, his hand gently laying by his side. He couldn’t help himself. Testing the waters, Solomon moved closer to brush their fingers together. Asmo glanced at him and Solomon repeated the action before intertwining his fingers with Asmo’s.

“Now King Solomon,” oh Solomon loved the way he said that, “I thought you didn’t want to hold my hand anymore.”

“Of course I want to hold your hand. I do love how soft they are, and I love how your fingers look wrapped around your dagger.”

“Oh you would love something so brutish wouldn’t you?” Asmo teased, “Refined King Solomon, who is always so deep in his books, loves watching the delicate little Arcadian prince slaying a big ugly monster because of how his spit-covered hands look wrapped around a dagger.”

Solomon wrapped himself around him, not caring in the slightest if blood got on his cloak, “And if I do?”

“And what if you do?” Asmo challenged.

There was so much Solomon loved about him, and that fire in his eyes was one of the things he absolutely adored. Asmodeus was strong in more ways than one, and Solomon knew this to be true. All he could hope was that he helped Asmo flourish and grow.

“Isn’t that the question,” Solomon said leaning in, “But now all I wish is to hold your hand.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“But will you let me?”

Asmo met him halfway, letting his lips meet Solomon’s. His heart soared at the tiniest bit of contact with Asmo, and when they pulled apart, Solomon could feel his body begging for more. He could never get enough of Asmodeus, and he would never get enough of Asmodeus. How could he? He was beautiful and powerful all in his own right.

“So may I hold your hand?” Solomon asked again.

“You said you would attend to me in the bath as soon as we got back?” Asmo asked, leaning in close.

“That I did.”

“Then I suppose I could let you hold my hand. Perhaps I’ll even let you hold it the rest of the way back.”

“Oh my Asmodeus is too kind to me.”

And so they walked back to the palace, hand in hand. Solomon didn’t intend to let go any time soon. Asmodeus always had a grip on him. His hands held his heart so tenderly, and his very presence always had him in such a captivating grasp.

Asmodeus was wonderful, and Solomon considered himself lucky that he had the honor of holding the Arcadian prince’s hand. It was one he didn’t deserve, and yet Asmo blessed him every day.

#TaBoL #ruewrites #SolodeusWeek2021 #obeyme #obey me solomon #obey me asmodeus #solodeus #soloasmo #asmosolo #asmodeus x solomon #royalty!au #arranged marriage!au

13 notes · View notes

sunshinesukuna · 4 years

Text

lemon detergent

pairing: tsukishima x reader

tw: fighting, injuries (bruises), light swearing

wc: 1.7k

genre: angst to fluff

ayyy catch me plagiarizig my own work. eh, miya atsumu can rot anyways. im sorry if this is bad, i haven’t given you guys writing for over a week and my people-pleasing ass rushed to give you guys some content ahhhhh. éñÿwâÿś, enjoy <333

Three strikes and you’re out. For each of you, so technically that was six strikes, but the two of you never debated the technicalities of it. Not like you had time to, with a hectic schedule as third-year students and athletes. Him chucking volleyballs into the air, and you chucking yourself up in the air in the wondrous sport known as cheerleading.

He’s already waiting for you in your usual spot behind the gym. God forbid anyone see the two of you together unless it was a life-or-death situation. Hinata would grow at least a feet before that would ever happen. At least that was easy when you were dating someone like him. Being in different classes, different teams, houses on the opposite sides of town. You wondered when you would actually be close to him both emotionally, and physically.

Now that you’re closer, you can smell him for real. The tang of lemon detergent that his mom loves and clean sweat can only mean it’s Tsukishima. You stand in front of him wordlessly, eyes expectant for something. Well, something other than the forlorn look in his eyes that he’s giving you.

“I don’t think I can come to your house after school tomorrow,” he says. There it is. You were totally expecting that this would come at some point during the year, but you didn’t expect it to come this soon. You’re still disappointed anyways.

“It’s the third time you’ve bailed out on me this week alone, Kei,” you complain. He puts a finger to his lips at the sound of your quickly rising voice. “I barely see you at school outside of the gym!”

“And I told you, I’m practicing. It’s not like I’m cheating or anything.” Certainly feels like you are, you want to say. But it’s best if you keep those words in the back of your head.

“For what? Nationals aren’t for two more months!” He breaks eye contact with you, opting to stare at the tree at the edge of the road.

"Practice makes perfect.”

“But you shouldn’t overwork yourself this much! Even I take breaks from cheerleading every now and then to come to support you at your games!”

“(Y/N), I think you’re misjudging how important the Interhigh is to Karasuno. If we lose—”

“I know how important the match is, Kei. But there’s a difference between giving it your all and giving it too much.” You pause, taking a long breath. “Even cheerleaders don’t break our backs trying to reach new heights.”

Tsukishima sighs before putting his hands back into his pocket. He furrows his eyebrows.

“What would you know about it? Cheerleading isn’t a real sport anyway.”

Words cut deep like knives. Tsukishima’s don’t. They hit you like a bag of bricks all at once.

The pang in your chest isn’t just from his words, it’s from his indifference. His eyes giving you that blank stare as he brushes off everything important to you. His hands staying still in his pockets as he talks to you, like you’re not even worthy of his attention.

“What?”

And thus the standoff begins.

First is the lunch line. You think waiting for food while hungry is hard? Try waiting for food when you’re hungry and have Tsukishima Kei looming over behind you. You’re about to plant your feet down in the floor when you’re finished, waiting for him to finish up, but you remember that you have no one to wait for.

So you briskly pick up your tray and move to a table where you spot some of your friends from cheer sitting. His eyes twitch at your figure walking so easily away from him. But it’s not like you would notice.

Second is the hallway. Your heart clenches a bit when you spot Yamaguchi around the corner, because you know who’s going to be next to him. You can already smell the lemon detergent from here.

His eyes burn through his glasses when you walk by. The usual glance and smile is thrown out in exchange for… nothing. Your eyes look straight forward at the end of the hall, where your classroom is. Frustration rolls off of him in waves so intense you can practically smell them, like a disruption in his lemon detergent-scented aura.

No matter, that means it’s working, right? He’ll fess up sooner enough.

But what was it again? Three strikes and you’re out. The third strike comes later at practice.

You really should have thought this out even further. The damaged piping in the gym the cheerleading team usually used meant that they had to share with someone. And who else to share a gym with than the Karasuno Men’s Volleyball Team?

So here you are, stuck at one side of the gym while you can feel Tsukishima’s eyes on you from the other side. The routine starts off well. The first stunts all hit, with none of the same wobblings that was there in the first few weeks of learning it.

And there it was. The throw was already crooked from the beginning. If you couldn’t reach the other flyer’s hand, then you were done for. In a last attempt to save the pyramid, you flung out your legs, trying to land on your feet.

Bad move.

Your knee landed on something— but it wasn’t your teammates’ hands that were ready to catch you. A spike of pain shot up your foot. Suddenly the world was a blur as skin-coloured blobs that could only be your teammates rushed to help you. The lights above were reduced to sparkles that were just too bright.

The buzzing in your ears was enough to block out the sounds coming in, but you could hear snippets of conversation here and there.

“Was that (Y/N)?”

“She landed on her knee!”

“It looks bruised….”

On your knee, eh. So that was why the fire was all concentrated on your patella. The sweat on your hands wouldn’t let you regain your balance. You slump down with your back to the floor, hands over your face to block out what little pain you could, but the faucet of liquid fire trickled down your knee to no end.

“May I help?” someone asked in a low baritone voice. You assumed that your coach said yes because you felt yourself being lifted in the air off the mat. The nape of your neck was wet, either from your sweat or this person’s.

This person was strong too. They walked briskly and easily across the halls of Karasuno, even with a body in their hands. But their heart rate was abnormally fast. They probably had been exercising.

You dare to open your eyes. All you see are pools of purple and white, obscured by the residual tears in your eyes. It could be anyone. But as your senses focused, hints olive and green came into the image. Your sense of smell was also starting to refocus as well. Lemon detergent, deodorant, and rubber.

Lemon detergent…

You opened your eyes as widely as you could. It was Tsukishima. Face unmoving and eyes showing no sign of emotion, but anyone could feel a sense of emergency with his rushed steps and the way he clicked his tongue anytime anyone stood in his way.

The scent of sharp disinfectants replaced the lemon detergent as you were put down on a soft bed. You winced at the new position you were put in, your weight crashing down on your lower body yet again.

“It hurts...” you squeak out, every word another rope squeezing your chest flush out of air.

“It does. It hurts like a bitch, doesn’t it?”

That’s enough to set your heart at ease, if only a little. No sappy words to shoo away the pain by pretending it isn’t real, just a concise confirmation that what you’re feeling is real. And somehow, that’s just enough.

Tsukishima works quickly and quietly, adjusting the ice packs where needed. Whenever you wince or gasp in pain, he’s quick to rub a long, lanky finger over the purple parts of the bruise that doesn’t have ice covering it. It still hurts like a bitch, but at least the pain is only physical.

The emotional ones are just beginning to heal.

The 10 by 10 room is sealed — door locked, windows bolted — but it still feels like the two of you are in front of a gargantuan stage, packed to the brim with people watching you. Or is it just because the only audience you have are one another?

“I’m sorry for saying cheerleading wasn’t a sport,” he mutters. Your hearing has started to sharpen again by now.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for brushing off your advice, and belittling something you love,” he says again, Tsukishima’s tone much clearer now. His words ring like a gong in your head.

The throbbing in your knee seems to lessen with every word he says. The longer he talks, the more the fire in your feet seem to subside. Were those his words going to your head, or the gentle massages he was giving your knees as he talked?

“You don’t have to accept my apology. I can wait until you do. But… I know I did something wrong. And I intend to fix it.”

“I’ll accept your apology,” you say. On several conditions.”

His head perks up, eager to hear what you’ll have him do in order to restore things back to the way they were. Scratch that, in order to make things better. Like hell he’ll ignore you again if it leads to something like this.

“What are they?” Tsukishima.

“I know you’re practicing really hard and all that, but can you spend some more time with me?” you ask. “You don’t have to spend that much time, just… enough so it actually feels like we’re dating?”

“Weren’t we already?”

“You know what I mean.”

Tsukishima takes a long breath. He stays silent for a long time, the only noise in the room the sound of ice against ice as he moves to take another icepack for your knee.

“Alright. Anything else?”

The idea you have is silly. But it couldn’t hurt to give it a try. What’s the worse that could happen?

“Buy me some of the detergent you use.”

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima angst #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuuwritersnet #haikyuu fluff #tsukishima oneshots #tsukishima scenarios #tsukki #silent treatment

193 notes · View notes

letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years

Text

Breaking the Cycle || Adam, Alcher, Ariana, Layla, & Nell

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @walker-journal @zahneundklauen @letsbenditlikebennett @laylacooke @nelllraiser SUMMARY: Alcher and Layla seek out Adam for retribution, while Ariana grabs Nell to assure no one else dies tonight. CONTENT: Suicide ideation, disease, violence

Lyssa’s Peak was a jagged spike against the violet sky. Its wooded slopes were choked with mist as canyons and cliffs gradually succumbed down into gentler foothills whose trees occasionally thinned around an old quarry or abandoned timber operation that was gradually being swallowed again by the relentless march of the montane forest.

It was in one of these abandoned mountainside quarries that Adam had chosen to spare, due to it being one of few clearings with reasonably level ground. Whatever unfortunate company had been tempted to sink investments into Lyssa’s Peak had long since cut their losses when the inevitable ‘incidents’ took their toll on the workforce and equipment. Abandoned cranes, dozers, and digger trucks lay quietly rusting in the quarry’s lower basin. The once clean cut and precise terrace steps of exposed rock that had formed the quarry’s sides now sported outcroppings of trees and bushes as nature reclaimed the excavation layer by layer.

Adam’s sleeveless workout T-shirt stuck to his body with sweat as he took a break to chug down a water bottle. He offered a spare water bottle to Layla. “So ...why’d you wanna train up anyway Cooke?”

Since Ariana had admitted the news about Adam being Winn’s killer, Layla could think of nothing else, but why and revenge. The last time anger had been harbored so deeply inside was right before she had hypnotized herself, and while she didn’t exactly have that option at the moment, she at least knew that she’d have backup sooner or later.

With sweat running down her fair face and her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, she easily caught the water and began chugging it down, “I’m tired of being the weak one in everything. It’s like…” She took another drink of water, “Everyone either wants to protect me or use me for my nose. I’m not a fucking bloodhound. And if my parents ever show…” She didn’t finish her thought. Instead, she took another drink of water and capped the bottle, “You ready to go again? And don’t go easy on me. Go hard. If you hurt me, then so be it. I’ve gotta learn.” Tossing the bottle to the side, she found her fighting stance readying herself for Adam’s attack; the energy from Lyssa’s Peak fueling the fire and anger inside of her small fit form. She hadn’t quite got a good hit in on the hunter yet, but she would before the night was over with.

The hunter was a child, but Alcher had decided long ago that that no longer mattered. They were marched out of their cribs and turned into war machines as young as five, four-- perhaps even three years old. Handed swords and told that they were born with a duty, a destiny, and that only they held the power to destroy monsters. When in truth, monsters were arbitrary. To a wolf who was left alone after their family was slaughtered, the hunter was the monster. And prey was just prey. Human was just...human.

Tonight, Alcher would show this young hunter what real monster’s looked like. He was well trained, she could see it in the movements of his body. But he had come unarmed to this sparring match. Well, perhaps not completely unarmed-- she knew true hunters always carried a weapon with them, she’d learned that lesson the hard way long ago-- but there were no swords or silver bullets in sight. Sweat mixed with the smell of the forest floor. The energy of Lyssa’s Peak made the shift easy. Now, while he was distracted. Her light body was more silent among the dead leaves of the ground, but she needed to be quick-- he would hear her soon enough. She tore from the brush quickly and bee-lined for the hunter. Layla would follow suit or she would incur wrath. Golden eyes bore down on Adam, teeth and claws following quickly after.

From what she could piece together of the messages, Ariana knew she needed to get to Adam and get to him quickly. While she was still pissed, she couldn’t just let him get killed. That’s exactly what Winn didn’t want to happen. The thought of warning Adam had crossed her mind, but then he’d likely just kill Alcher and Layla. It was enough to make her heart race as she panicked and called Nell who had of course been willing to help. She always was. Once she’d picked Nell up, a tracking spell and her nose led them to Lyssa’s Peak. The sky was getting darker and the place had a certain energy about it that made her feel stronger. The smaller hills around the area were easy enough to navigate and she could hear the sounds of a fight though it seemed friendly in the moment, but she could smell Alcher here. It was a trap. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and stayed tucked behind a tree. “We’re not far,” she whispered to Nell, “There’s something about this place, I feel stronger. I think I should go in first and you can provide magical backup as needed?”

Part of her knew Nell may want to be more on the frontlines, but she couldn’t stand the thought of her becoming a werewolf snack. She kept herself low below the brush and made sure her steps were quiet as she approached. As she saw Alcher lunging toward Adam, she called out, “No! Adam, watch out.” No longer caring about being seen, she darted across the way to try and stop the fight without any casualties.

Nell supposed that she could only be thankful that Ariana had told her what was happening in time for her to get her ribs healed. Desperate measures, in her terms, had been taken when it came to making sure the bones were sound enough to withstand the potential clash that was brewing. The warm tingling of a fresh healing from her mother was still settling into her chest, mixing fluidly with the buzzing beginnings of her adrenaline. She’d put the interaction as far as she could from her mind, focussing instead on the task that was now at hand. Her eyes flicked to Ariana at the werewolf’s suggestion, and Nell took a beat to chew on it before replying. “I’ll let you go first. But if I think either you or Adam’s about to go down— I’m not gonna hesitate,” she warned, knowing that she wouldn’t toy with the lives of those that were important to her.

As Alcher leapt forward, Nell did her best to fight against the urge to rise and meet her. A lack of reaction went against every fiber of her body’s current demands, and her jaw was clenched as she forced herself to watch and trust Ariana. Instead, she fiddled nervously with the hilt of a silver dagger clenched in her hand, drawn from its hiding place. Nell’s patience only lasted so long before her gut won out, and a quick spell was dropped from her lips to raise an invisible shield between Adam and the lunging wolf.

Adam’s too focused on sparring with Layla when a burning-ice sensation running up his spine and across his skin let Adam know a few seconds too late that another paranormal being had descended into the quarry.

Ariana’s voice called out and Adam spun, reaching back to draw a concealed survival knife in one fluid movement born from years of conditioning that’d made such an economy of motion pure instinct. But the wolf was already on him in a blunt impact of pure accelerated muscle.

A moment of blinding pain later, Adam jumped up from the stony ground into a guarded crouch, clutching the silvered survival knife in the hand not currently bleeding from lacerations. The impact had thrown him down and torn open his shoulder and left arm, but Adam racing thoughts recognized that he’d probably have a giant ass wolf ripping open his throat right now if ...something … hadn’t suddenly blunted the wolf’s charge.

“You should probably go to Ariana and get the hell outta here,” Adam noted to Layla in a low voice as he warrieing stared down the three legged wolf, painfully aware that a survival knife and one good arm weren't exactly great odds.

Everything had happened so much quicker than expected. The sparring had resumed only to be interrupted by Alcher lunging for Adam, and Layla quickly backstepping to get out of the path of the angry wolf. However, it was Ariana’s voice that had thrown her. Why was she here? She was supposed to be home or with Luna. Not around to bear witness to what was taking place.

Seeing the wolf go down and Adam freed from Alcher’s wicked grasp gave Layla the opportunity she needed. It was his warning that had only seemed to anger her more, “Why? So you can kill another one of my friends?” Head low, she could already feel the painfulness of wanting to shift, and before long, she was bearing blood covered fangs and sharp claws out of shaky hands; a sickness hovering as her body wanted more from the shift. But she had no time to waste. Adam was down, and without thinking about the consequences of her own actions, merely revenge, she lunged on top of the hunter and let her claws sink into his skin dragging them downward in advance to make him suffer just like Winn probably had.

Alcher, focused on her target, had not allowed herself to believe she had smelled Ariana’s scent in the forest around them. Or, perhaps, she had found herself hoping that the young wolf had come voluntarily to help with their mission. But her voice rang out and it called not for her or Layla, but for the hunter. And even as Alcher’s teeth sunk into flesh, and claws scraped at cloth, she could not revel in the taste of hunter blood. Instead, a rage burned inside of her, for in the next moment, something was pushing her from the hunter’s body, stopping her forward movement. Another smell, a new smell. Human-- so human. Teeth still coated in blood, she growled, low and dark, expressing her anger. Gold eyes flashed again and she turned, glowering down at the young wolf standing next to the human. Anger and disappointment ravaged Alcher’s mind, but she could not entirely fault the young wolf for her weakness. She was not raised with other wolves, she did not know properly.

Punishment would have to come later.

A small swell of pride filled her when she smelled the hunter’s blood again and she turned to see Layla digging into him. The other two would have to wait. Alcher bared her teeth again and made for the hunter’s neck. She would not kill him, though. No, that...she would leave for Layla.

There was no time to focus on the stupid decision she’d made in telling them about what really happened to Winn. Instinctively, her feet moved her forward and Ariana snarled at Layla who was now on top of Adam trying to rip into him. The energy of this place was seeping into her. Her legs were stronger, her motions more swift, and everything in her body was screaming for her to shift. Maybe that had been a little bit instinct, too. With Alcher fully transformed and Layla on her way there, there was no stopping them without allowing her more wild nature to take the lead. Still, she pleaded momentarily, “Layla, stop! This isn’t-- Winn didn’t want this, okay? This is the last thing Winn wanted.” God, she hoped he’d moved on and was at peace already so he couldn’t see this. It seemed there was no stopping the fight, especially not with Alcher here, so she focused on her breathing.

A few deep breaths later and she let the shift happen. The feeling this place gave her was worrying, but she had to keep her head on straight. If she didn’t, it was Adam and Nell who would pay the price. Her bones twisted and broke as she grew into her wolf self. The clothes on her back were ripped up on the ground behind her and the smell of blood was calling to her. Instinct called for the hunter’s blood, but her anger led her paws straight to Layla. The wolf ran at full speed, pummeling into Layla and knocking her off Adam. She wasn’t entirely a wolf yet, but she could still feel the resistance as she pinned her down. A loud growl in Layla’s face echoed in the hills around them.

Nell had only recognized one of the two wolves. Layla was one she knew from having tried to execute a wrongful bounty on the girl, but the other werewolf was a mystery. Coincidentally, this was also the wolf that had been left in the clear when it came to attacking Adam. Ariana had thrown Layla off course, but there was a clear shot between the other wolf and the now bleeding Hunter. It seemed that Ariana had given up on solving this peacefully, which brought a new sharpness to Nell’s eyes and movements, shifting quickly into fight mode rather than defense.

“No!” Nell’s heart pounded out a frantic beat as she surged forwards, reminding her that there was much more hinging on this clash than usual, the literal lives of her friends being the ones dangling in danger. Performing another often-used spell to grant her temporary, heightened speed, the witch surged forwards to run interference, leaping towards Alcher, silver knife extended to plunge as she aimed for the wolf’s shoulder with a slash. Hopefully, if anything, it would serve as a distraction. Another moment later and she was using the knife on herself, drawing a line of blood down her forearm to fuel her next magic, creating two more Adams next to the original, trying to make it harder for the wolves to choose their marks when there were three apparitions giving off his scent.

The quarry’s stone’s bit deep as Adam struggled on his back, the muscles of his claw-raked arms and neck straining to ripcord tautness as he tried to hold off the three-legged wolf’s jaws now inches away from his throat. The creature’s breath was hot and wet against the Hunter’s face, thick with the coppery scent of Adam’s own blood dripping down her fangs.

In that moment with death quite literally staring him in the face, Adam looked up into Alcher’s golden eyes and also saw the eyes of Elias, amber lupine irises slowly becoming human as the knife of a football teammate ended the Turnskin’s curse. Adam saw Lucas’ pleading eyes as the hunted wolf knowingly placed his life in the hands of a killer. After that were Miles’ eyes regarding him warily, conditioned to distrust after a lifetime of regret. Adam saw Kaden’s eyes, transfixed by pain as his familys’ blood feud sought to swallow up yet another life. There were Mina’s eyes, afraid but not surprised as a stranger held her at knife-point for not being her father’s daughter. In there were Orion’s eyes as he saw Adam glance at his scars and finally grasp a depravity that’d been right in front of his face for years. Regan’s eyes were wide with confusion as she was held at gunpoint for being different in a way neither she or her assailant truly understood. The light died from James’ eyes as he was cut down by someone sworn to be his protector.

Some unconscious part of Adam finally grasped what Celeste had already known and what Winn had died trying to get him to understand.

But it was too late. Adam was an oathbreaker, a betrayer, a coward.

Adam’s arms adupbtly started to give out as the wolf bore down on him. Far more than blood bled out of Adam on the quarry stones. It was like something within him snapped, pushed beyond the farthest brink of exhaustion for so long that it was finally giving out entirely. The last of embers of Adam’s dwindling faith went cold, leaving him to hopelessly fight a primal creature of myth with only a mortal strength.

Reduced from predator to prey, Adam would’ve likely died beneath Alcher’s mauling right there if Nell hadn’t intervened, her distraction and illusions giving him just the narrow break to struggle free.

“Nell ..Ariana,” Adam coughed hoarsely, struggling to stand but falling back to his knees as his now-human stamina. What was left of his clothes, shoulder and back were a ragged mass of claw of dirty claw-gouges. “You need to go,”

He looked up to Nell, eyes pleading with her not to perpetuate this cycle of death that’d begun generations before Adam and Winn were born. “This has gotta end with me.”

Layla couldn’t hear Ariana’s voice because of the blind rage going through her body. All she could focus on was destroying Adam, but the jolt of another fully grown figure hitting her and knocking her off of him seemed to stun her enough to let out a yelp, before she realized she was being pinned down by the younger wolf. However, it didn’t stop the anger and frustration looming in her heart or the sense of rage Lyssa’s Peak was casting over her on an amplified level. She could feel the sickness of the bite; it’s poison as it raced through her veins and animal instinct became more prominent. And without making any attempt to stop the change, she embraced the excruciating pain as the shift took control leaving her cries soon turning into howls. And before long, golden eyes stared back into those of her best friend as she growled, before using all the hurt inside of her to push the other werewolf off.

Scampering to her feet, she noticed Adam on his knees. He was at the mercy of the beasts, and in that moment, she no longer saw a friend. She saw an enemy. One who had reminded her so much of what she was taught to do as a child. One that saw no mercy, when he aimed his gun and fired upon creatures, now like herself, that didn’t always deserve the fate they got, because a human with enhanced abilities felt it was his right to play God.

Lowering her head and snarling, spittle glistening from her open maw, she was going to make Alcher proud. Avenge Winn’s death. And take out a man who walked around so pompously pretending to be a God, when he was nothing more than a mere mortal. And without hesitating any longer, she made the mad dash in his direction with claws fully extended and teeth bared, ready to rip and tear his flesh like that of paper and snap his bones like twigs, not knowing if she would choose the right Adam. Only going off of instinct.

Her two wolves were fighting each other and it tore at Alcher’s heart to see. But she needed to focus now-- she would have to trust that Layla could hold her own against Ariana. And hope that the confused wolf would come around to their thinking. Because in the next moment, pain tore through her shoulder. Alcher howled loudly, turning to face her attacker. The witch. She was becoming more than a nuisance, and if she prodded any further, she would also become a threat. Which meant she would have to kill her. Alcher threw her off quickly, and turned to face the hunter again-- but then there were more of him. Copies. They smelled the same, looked the same. Alcher roared angrily and leapt at one, tearing at its throat. It disintegrated in her mouth. She turned to the other two. They were weak. Staggering on their feet. Trying to sacrifice themself like some sort of martyr. She spit out blood and turned to look back at the spellcaster. The hunter deserved death, but perhaps she would let him suffer first. Unable to save his friends, he would watch.

She feigned as if to go for him once again, turning on her heel at the last minute to spring towards the spellcaster. She ran her full weight into the girl, claws curling in as if to hold onto her. And then jaws closed around her wrist, savoring the taste of her blood, while simultaneously preventing her from using her silver knife anymore. Next, her throat.

For a moment Nell hesitated, trying to make sense of Adam’s strangled plea. Was he asking for an end to the age old battle he’d been fighting for all his life? It was all she could do to shake her head in denial even though she’d told him not a week before that letting it fester would break him, giving her refusal to let him be the price for peace. Because it wouldn’t be peace if he died. Not for the cycle, and certainly not for her. “It won’t stop, though,” she managed to grind out. It would be another turn of the gears that kept the killing machine of Hunter versus wolf still moving, the cogs bigger than this single clash. Beyond that- she was too selfish in the matter. Selfish enough to ensure that Adam lived, and selfish enough to forfeit any good that might come of seeing him die. Too many people had died, and he wasn’t a sacrifice she was willing to make.

Her moment of stillness had stretched too long, and before Nell knew it she found herself tossed to the side. Alcher’s feint towards Adam was enough to have the witch launching herself in the wolf’s direction once again, but her eyes went wide as she realized Alcher was rising to meet her instead. It was over within a moment, a gasp of pain slipping from her as the wolf’s teeth found their mark. The deeper meaning of a werewolf bite was lost on her in the midst of the fight, not even having a moment to think of the obvious consequences it might hold when the very same teeth that had broken her skin were seeking her throat. She reached for her magic, the same that had exploded the Lamia’s head at the Ring, and unintentionally put Kaden on his knees in Bea’s kitchen. Focusing on the wolf’s leg opposite the one that was already half gone from some prior injury, she tugged with the intent to bend the leg into an unnatural position, hoping to shock the wolf into missing. A loud crack rang out as bone snapped, and Nell lived to see the wolf still above her, no doubt readying her next strike.

A snarl echoed through the clearing as Ariana saw Nell being attacked. Had she not been buzzing with wild energy, she may have been able to approach this more tactically, but as it stood, she had seen Adam in danger and ran on instinct. Now Nell was paying the price and the smell of blood in the air was calling to her. It was hard to ignore, but something about seeing Nell hurt propelled her forward. Layla was likely going to need a minute to find the real Adam and Nell didn’t have that long. Alcher’s ferocity was unnerving, especially when it was directed toward her friend. She darted forward, paws barrelling against the brush, and crashed into Alcher before she could sink her teeth anywhere more dangerous.

The wolf in her felt out of sorts, fighting her own kind, but this was senseless. Even with her own ferocity threatening to spill over, she had to hold on to what Winn had wanted. If he could see them now, he’d be hurting and the thought only made a low growl rumble within her smaller form. Hopefully the moment for Nell to recover would give her the edge she needed. This felt like it would never end and she wished she’d thought of a better plan as she found herself craving the taste of blood.

Adam didn’t feel worthy of these two women risking their lives for him. Layla was right. He had killed Winn, a friend who’d trusted him, and there were consequences for that. He’d ignored all of Winn, Celeste, and Ariana’s warnings about continuing the cycle of violence.

Ari and Nell shouldn’t get killed trying to rescue Adam from something of his own making.

But if they weren’t going to let him go, Adam needed to make sure everyone here made it out alive.

Even just trying to keep standing seemed more than Adam had left, but even as the Hunter’s powers bled out of him, that lifelong mental conditioning to fight past the pain and focus on the mission still remained. His feet stumbled on the rough stones of this hillside quarry, and the summit of Lyssa’s Peak spun like a wheel of fortune in Adam’s blurry vision as the violet sky and bloodstained earth swapped places a couple times. But the singular goal of getting Ari and Nell out of here gave enough clarity for Adam to push back the impending blackout for a little while longer.

He began to back away from Layla and Alcher towards the abandoned quarry’' ruined entrance, the only way out Adam could handle in his condition. He held the survival knife, a short utilitarian thing ill suited to holding off a supernatural predator, clutched in bloody-knuckled grip and pointed it towards the three legged wolf.

“Nell, Ari,” he shouted hoarsely, “we gotta get outta here!” He motioned towards Penelope, making a stubborn but dubiously effective attempt to cover her escape away from Alcher.

Layla let her nose lead her forward, but she was confused by the scent. For the briefest of moments she thought she had sensed the right version of Adam and pushed forward, but guessed wrong and hit the ground in a lunging attack that left her stunned. Again. She had failed as she slowly came to her senses and watched as Adam backed away, his focus mainly on Alcher, proving that not even an injured hunter found her a threat.

She was sure she would hear an earful later from both Alcher and Ariana, if Ariana could even forgive her and any hope of still being in Nell’s good graces had gone out the door.

Anger was the only thing left. Even as pain ripped through Alcher’s body as her bone snapped. Even as Ariana’s body collided into hers. With a swift motion, even from the ground, Alcher turned her claws on Ariana. She smacked her square across the face and stood as much as her limbs would allow her, snarling angrily at the younger wolf, golden eyes piercing her. She raised a paw and smacked her again, shoving her away. Challenging her. Would she leave with the hunter and his witch? Or would she tuck her tail in shame and stay? The hunter was retreating, as well as his witch. They were wounded. But as Alcher looked around for Layla, she found that they, too, were injured beyond movement. It was time to retreat. They would finish this another day. Dying here was senseless, not when the hunter still walked.

They would find him later, when he was alone. And Alcher would let Layla finish it herself. He was weakened, she could sense it, and he couldn’t hold on much longer. He would be alone at some point, and they’d be waiting.

Alcher hoisted herself up with her front paws and dragged her dangling, broken leg behind her as she made her way over to Layla. She gave the three retreating forms a glare and let them know that they could leave for now, but that this was not over, before looking to Layla. She had done good. She would be rewarded. Despite the droop in her shoulders and the tensing of her body, she had proven today that she was a real wolf. That was enough for Alcher.

Perhaps the claws colliding with her face shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Ariana. Even if she’d made an effort to not hurt anyone here, she had stood in the way of what they considered to be justice. Still, she snarled as the claws hit her face only to be met by another hit to the face. The gesture itself somehow stung more than the actual wound. It had never occurred to her that Alcher would use considerable force on her and it hurt more than she anticipated. She growled lowly, backing away, but making it clear she wasn’t going to let any further harm come to Adam or Nell. She could hear Adam in the back suggesting retreat and she was thankful for that. The last thing she wanted was for anyone here to die and if they kept going, she knew that’s what the end result would be.

Alcher seemed to be directing Layla to follow her away. There was no fully relaxing with the energy of Lyssa’s Peak influencing her and though Layla and Alcher were now off in the distance, the wolf in her craved something more. The smell of blood in the air was a bit overwhelming and she honed in on some shuffling in the brush. Without thought, she lunged forward and dug into the rabbit. It wasn’t quite enough to satiate her appetite, but it was enough to take the edge off. A few deep breaths later, she slipped back into her more human looking form. She glanced around the clearing for her abandoned bag and was quick to grab it before slipping into the quarry.

“We need to patch both of you up,” she directed as she kept a close ear out for their surroundings, “And I should probably throw on a change of clothes.” She threw on a t-shirt and gym shorts but kept her feet bare as she went over to Adam who had taken a brunt of the beating. She cleaned him up the best she could, but she’d need better lighting if she was going to attempt anything more serious like stitches. “We need to get him back to one of our places. Is your wrist okay?”

Nell wasn’t sure what to make of the way Adam seemed to crumble in on himself. She’d seen him fight before, watched as he managed to bounce back from shoving his arm down a lamia’s throat. So where was that strength now? Something was wrong, but she couldn’t quite manage to put her finger on it. Retreating wasn’t something that came naturally to Nell, but even she could see that they’d done what they came here to do. Adam was safe if not battered and the same could be said for Ariana. Now what mattered most was getting out of the quarry with their lives so that they might heal.

While Ariana changed, Nell went to work on Adam as well— recognizing that he was in much more danger than she at the moment, the claw marks running deep and long. Calling on her magic she prioritized the wounds that looked most serious, scabbing them enough to at least staunch the flow of blood loss, but building new flesh to cover them was beyond her abilities. “It’s gonna be okay,” she said almost reflexively, though she wasn’t sure if the words were meant for her friends, herself, or both. Ariana’s question hung in the air as she thought of her wrist for the first time since it had been bitten, and her stomach dropped even further towards the ground beneath her knees as she knelt to continue her healing alongside Ariana’s work. She’d been bitten. Bitten by a werewolf, and that meant— Nell promptly shut the door on that train of thought, refusing to let it hinder her in these moments when what was most important was making sure the three of them were alright. Instead she answered the werewolf’s question with another. “Are you alright?” The last blow the other wolf had gotten in had looked nasty. “Mine’s closest, and I have more healing stuff there, too.”

With the three of them huddled there beyond the shadowing peak of Lyssa, Nell forced herself to focus on what they’d succeeded at for the moment being, knowing this wasn’t the time to be weak with dread. No one was dead. The fight hadn’t been won, and blood had been spilled, but for these few moments they’d managed to stop the cycle of killing, and shoved a wrench into the murderous dance of Hunter and supernatural that had been fought since before either side could remember. So though the day was lost, perhaps they’d won another in its place.

#wickedswriting #breaking the cycle #suicide tw #illness tw #disease tw #adam #alcher #layla #nell #chronic illness tw

18 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

Text

Humans are Weird “Keep them Warm”

Hey guys, Hope you are having a great week. This one is gonna be both awkward and funny hopefully. It was given to me as a prompt idea from one of my readers, and I hope they enjoy it as well. It involves a new alien species that I think you all might be interested in. I would suggest taking a look :)

“So you’re telling me we found another sentient omnivore species.” The commander grunted ripping his boot from a watery patch of mud and nearly crashing into the swampy water between two twisted tree roots.

Sunny reached out with one of her four armored arms, and caught him by the back of his pack pulling him back upright. He nodded a thanks to her and adjusted his gear. Behind her Ramirez ducked under a low hanging branch slogging through a pool of knee-high water, adjusting the containment pod, holding Krill more comfortably over both shoulders.

Krill, comfortable and warm inside his containment pod, watched the marines, scientists, and a linguist struggle through the mud under a covering of impossibly tall twisted trees their canopy blocking out all light that might have dared cut downwards towards the watery floor below. “Not entirely sentient, I suppose.” Krill answered , “Unfortunately the way in which they communicate is going to drastically reduce their ability to create complex structures and perform mathematical equations.”

Together they maneuvered themselves over a root, which at some point in the distant past, had decided to grow upwards instead of down. At about four feet high, it had changed its mind and arched back down into the water. Perhaps it had been smaller then, but at four feet wide, the root was an absolute monstrosity now.

The trees themselves were massive, challenging, and sometimes outgrowing the legendary redwood forests of the western Americas, but unlike the redwoods, these trees didn’t stand tall and proud. Instead, they chose a twisted path much like the branching veins which made up a human vascular system. They twisted and undulated interlocking past each other with branches that were well over two feet wide in many cases,and stretching to over four feet wide in others. No one direction was good enough, and the trees twisted ducked swirleded and reached grasping for any sort of light to be found.

On top of the darkness cast by the trees and the soggy nature of the forest floor, it was also horribly hot and humid giving the impression of a microwaved wet blanket thrown over the world. Where heat from the upper canopy met the cooler air of deep forest pools, it created a perpetually thick mist which writhed and undulated through the trees, leaving only the shadowy impressions of twisted trunks and clawing branches past distances greater than 50 feet.

“They communicate primarily through pheromones and heat modulation. From what I understand, the language in itself isn’t precise, and really only works in generalities and feelings than it does in absolutes.”

Commander Vir kicked a rotting log out of the way ducking as a massive green bug buzzed over his head and into the fog. Turns out the hotter and more humid a planet gets, the bigger the bugs get, “But we were still able to communicate with them.

KRill nodded from inside his case, “Yes, generally speaking.For a species that cannot communicate in absolutes, I hear they are quite reasonable. They seem willing to accept our friendship, and have….. invited, I guess, us to participate in some sort of primitive ritual.”

The commander nodded scrambling over another tree branch, “Alright, so….. where are these things anyway.” His boots hit solid ground, covered in some sort of wet spongy fungus and glanced down at his GPS. Behind him the other marines went silent heads lifted towards the sky in shock.

“Fuck me.” ONe of the marines whispered scrambling back behind a tree root.

Commander Vir turned and nearly fell into the water again eyes locked onto the creatures descending from high above.

They were huge, about the size of large horses, and horrifically spider like in their construction, or perhaps an ant. They had large-scale abdomens connected to a thinner thorax. All together they had ten appendages, three pairs of spider-like legs on the abdomen which, instead of ending in a pod or foot, ended in a sharp pointed spike. On the abdomen, they had two arm-like appendages, with two many joints and strange waves tentacles instead of fingers

The head was just as disconcerting. It seemed too large for the body, grossly out of proportion and strangely out of place, like some cosmic sentience had used a random animal generator to assign parts to its body. The head was wolflike, if you were to strip the skin and fur away leaving only the muscle underneath. You could see the line of teeth running up either side of the muzzle while the large red-pink ears rotated continuously.

Commander Vir had backed himself into the bowl of a tree eyes wide. Sunny slogged herself up from the water placing herself between the strange spidery creatures and the human.

They didn’t descend like a spider might, on threads of silk, but they used their back six feet, and the spikes on the end to dig into the bark of the trees with a disconcerting thud thud thud thu.

FInally the largest of the creatures reached the ground surprisingly silent for it’s massive bulk.

Glancing around Sunny’s tensed body, he noticed something he hadn’t before, and that was a strange small mass gripping onto the spidery creature’s underbelly. Upon closer inspection he counted ten legs and a surprisingly spidery head buried against its underside….. a completely separate creature holding on to it’s companion.

Behind the largest creature, he noted ANOTHER type of creature. It boasted the same sort of structure as the large creature, but its abdomen was devoid of scales, and covered in strange black bulbs suctioned onto its body by way of a strange, sticky black-green webbing. It’s head was also constructed differently more like a lizard than a wolf, with large bulbous eyes that could rotated behind it’s own head to look in all directions.

Commander Vir fiddled nervously with the advanced translation headset he wore strapped to his helmet, supposedly it was supposed to be able to understand what these things were saying.

“Sky….. friends.” The translation was somewhat garbled, but he understood it was the large wolf-head who spoke.

He walked forward, pushing Sunny gently to the side despite her clear reluctance, “Yes, we are friends, and we are here to offer peace to you, and the assistance of the Galactic Assembly.” He wasn’t entirely sure how that was going to translate over in smell, but the creature seemed happy lifting it’s head and gnashing it’s large K-9 teeth.

“Agreement….. for a favor.”

Commander Vir grew unsure then letting off a reluctant, “What favor.”

The spidery shape moved closer sniffing at him with it’s large wolffish nose. Sunny stiffened at his side, and he put a hand on her arm to calm her.

“Ritual…. you help.”

“None of us will get hurt ... will we?”

The creature stopped and pondered the question for a long moment, “No danger….. live ... healthy ... happy.”

Commander Vir nodded slowly, “Alright, what do we have to do?”

The creature hefted it’s large bulk, and turned in the opposite direction, “Follow.” It commanded scuttling off into the trees.

***

“This is very interesting.” Krill was saying to one of the accompanying scientists, who nodded vigorously in agreement.

“What’s so interesting.” Commander Vir whispered from where he stood at the edge of yet another, but larger fungus covered clearing, watching as the creatures scuttle back and forth.

The scientist learned in in excitement, “It seems that these creatures have a ternary gender system.” Before the commander could ask, the scientist continued, “For ease of speech, the large ones are the females, and those things on their bellies are probably the males. The medium ones are the third gender, the ‘they’ if you will. It looks like the male impregnates the female who then attaches the eggs to the third party. Dr. Krill tells me that the third party have a very high heat signature probably to incubate the young. Those attachments probably provide nutrients into the egg and may even transfer DNA over as well.”

“WOw…. freaky.” The commander muttered in fascination.

“Kind of gross if you ask me.” Sunny muttered.

“I’m with her.” Ramirez muttered receiving a few nods from the other marines.

“Oh please.” Krill whispered, “I know what human reproduction is like, and it’s arguable way worse.”

The scientist waved them all off, “The big one there, the one that’s been talking to us. I think she’s the queen, and judging from those egg sacks, this is probably mating season, if they have one.”

“Creepy, but cool, I guess.” The captain muttered.

They watched for a little longer as the queen scuttled around the clearing and then return to look at them lowering her meaty wolffish head to the Commander’s eyes level. “Ritual ... find…. eggkeeper.” SHe scuttled away

“Oh….. this is some sort of? Mating ritual maybe….. to choose that third party you were talking about.”

“This isn’t exactly the kind of “Mating ritual” I wanted to see.” One of the marines muttered. The other marines turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. Sunny stuck her tongue out in disgust.

Off in the clearing, some of the smaller females had moved themselves onto the high branches scuttling through the trees to examine the “they” who waited patiently. It appeared that side was very important in the ritual, as they all fought for the largest counterpart. Once found, the wolffish head would lower, and open up to reveal a tube under the tongue. From there she would…. disgorge the egg onto the abdomen of the ‘they’ and the mucus would solidify to hold them on.

“It has to do with size.” Krill hissed, “But it seems that it has more to do with heat. The big ones only get chosen more because they also happen to be warmer than the smaller ones. I’d say they incubate at an average of 90 degrees.”

They watched this for a while, the scientists taking notes and the marines making inappropriate jokes.

Eventually most of the creatures had finished leaving only the queen left over. Everything went still when she began to move, and she scuttled around the clearing looking over all the available ‘theys’ she could find, but she just didn’t seem satisfied.

Commander Vir tugged at the collar of his jacket, a line of sweat dripping down his face.

She continued her circuit once and then twice, at some point she turned her head large eyes locking on the humans. She sniffed at them.

The human laughter died as she advanced.

“What is she doing.” The commander muttered under his breath

The scientist that stood next to him hidden partially behind Sunny, “I…. I’m not sure.”

She scuttled even closer, and the humans backed away.

“Hey doc…. didn’t you say something about….. them being attracted to heat.” Ramirez wondered hiding himself behind a root.

“Yeah….. I did, why.”

“Not to freak anyone out or anything but….. isn’t average human heat about 98.6….”

What followed was a rather violent game of nose goes, but instead of involving touching ones nose to see who was the last person standing, it involved a mad rush to reduce body heat. The smartest marines took the initiative and dove into the water beside the clearing. Completely submerging themselves under the surface. Others chose to cover whatever exposed skin they might have in mud as if to mask the heat. Still others chose to cut and run.

Unfortunately, with his position at the head of the group, Commander Vir wasn’t fast enough.

She came at him in a scuttling rush, and in a frantic leap to get away, his boot caught on a root and he hit the ground hard. Sunny tried to leap in front of him, but was bowled over by the mad rushing form.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Commander vir repeated scuttling backwards across the ground as the large spidery shape loomed over him.

He stopped dead in his tracks backed against a tree root. She leaned closer.

He raised his hands above his head blocking his face, “Please don’t lay your eggs in me. Please don’t lay your eggs in me.”

She reached out one of her forward hands surprisingly delicate as she cut through the first layers of his jacket, and shirt. THey fell away in slices revealing the pale human skin underneath red and sticky with the tropical heat. His chest and abdomen heaved with his breath as he tried to scramble away, but she caught him with the prong of one of her back legs pinning him in place.

“Fuck…. Help…. HELP.”

Sunny wasn’t fast enough, having been tipped head over heels into the water, with the rest of the marines in similar positions, Krill contained inside his tube unable to help but unable to look away.

She lowered her head, and the man screamed. It was cold, gelatinous and slimy at first, but even as it touched open air, he could feel it fusing against his skin solidifying. He thrashed and wriggled, but she was far to strong holding him in place. Finally though, she backed away leaving him panting on the ground shaking and trembling leg throbbing where he had been pinned.

She leaned her head down to examine him, “Warm.”

THey locked eyes, “Friends…. now…. Keep them….. warm.”

SHe retreated, and he struggled to his knees turning to look down at his body which was now partially obscured by a sticky pod of six black eggs pulled tight against his skin. His hand were shaking as he reached down to touch them, cold and smooth. HE tried tugging on one, but nearly fainted at the pain it caused against his skin.

They were withdrawing back into the trees leaving him kneeling on the fungus hands trembling as looked downwards.

Sunny was the first to recover scrambling out of the water and over to him, placing a hand on his back as she examined the strange eggs attached to his skin, “Mother of-“

THe marines cut her off as they came wriggling from the trees, “Commander, Commander are you ok….” One of the marines cut around front frozen in his tracks eyes wide once he saw, “WHAT THE HELL!”\

Sunny reached out as if to tug on one of them, “NO!” He snapped jerking away from her.

The others gathered around to look with exclamations of shock and disgust. The commander looked up at Sunny pleadingly. She decided to take charge, helping him to his feet and then pulling him into her arms, “We have to get him back to the ship, let's move, NOW!”

***

“What do you think, Dr.”

Dr Katie examined the scan with a frown, “It’s very, very strange, that’s for sure.”

Commander VIr lifted his head to look down at them, “Well what the HELL does that mean.”

Krill shoved his head back onto the table, “Stay still.”

Dr. Katie hummed softly as she continued to examine the scans, “It looks like these little filaments have breached the skin ... and…. well at least one of them has made it to your liver, this one here has made it to your lungs.”

“What about white blood count.” Krill wondered, “THe body must have noticed something by now?”

Dr Katie shook her head, “Nothing, the body seems to have accepted it. I took some samples and….. well I think I might know why.” She rolled herself to the side in her chair and over to one of the adjoining computers, “See this, this is his DNA ...and this is the DNA of the strands.”

Krill pearled over her shoulder, “What the….. they look almost identical.”

“Yes…. I don’t think the body knows anything is wrong.” She turned her chair back around to look at the Commander, “Congratulations Commander, you are perhaps, in the weirdest way possible, the only man in the history of existence who might just experience the miracle of life.”

The look on his face made it clear he wasn’t interested in being congratulated, “What the actual fuck does that mean?” He snapped

Dr. Katie rolled closer, “Well, to explain in terms you may understand. You are doing more than keeping them warm. Those filaments that you saw are acting like umbilical cords. The one at your liver is using it as a filter, and to take in nutrients as it seems to have branching filaments to the stomach and intestines. The one going to your lungs is taking in carbon…… not sure what that’s going to do to your breathing if anything. But at this point I don’t think that even Dr. Krill, as good as he can remove them. We would have to remove too much of your internal structure to it to be viable, plus they don’t seem to be hurting you.”

“Not hurting me! NOT HURTING ME! You said it yourself they are SUCKING OUT MY VITAL JUICES.”

Dr. Katie shrugged, “Welcome to pregnancy….. sort of. Look we will monitor you, make sure they aren’t sucking away to many nutrients. Look on the bright side, you can probably eat more, and judging form an analysis of the egg sacks, the average gestational period is only around two months.”

“TWO MONTHS!”

Sunny, who had been standing next to the man at the head of the exam table, couldn’t suppress a short chirp of laughter.

He glowered at her, “What’s so funny!”

She chirped again placing a hand on his arm, “You’re gonna be a mom.”

If looks could kill, shed be reduced to a singularity, “Get your hand off me or ill break it in half!”

She continued chirping, but removed her hand just in case.

This was going to be a very awkward call to the UNSC and the GA.

For that matter, it was going to be a very awkward call home.

#humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

915 notes · View notes

chubbyooo · 4 years

Text

Blurred Lines: Cursed Past Chapter 95 - Vaylin

I feel like I hold onto these sorta moments for ages but still hope you enjoy all the returns now we're expanding the stories :D

Kavaraa comes face to face with the former Empress of Zakuul

Kavaraa tried to keep herself from hyperventilating as Vaylin stood over her looking as scary as ever, this was so much all at once Kavaraa knew Vaylin had died; Kyradia had fought her on Odessen. But here she was standing over her angry as ever, the last time Kavaraa had encountered Vaylin she’d completely outclassed her and stopped her attempt to save Kyradia from carbonite.

Vaylin beared down on Kavaraa “who are you Jedi and why are you here, don’t make me ask again” Kavaraa shuddered she’d hoped never to encounter Vaylin again as close as Kavaraa was with Arcann his stories had only heightened her fear of Vaylin.

Kavaraa swallowed hard as she leaned back away from the saber at her throat “I’m uh Kavaraa Bysh Jedi Basen’thor and well I don’t exactly know how I got here do you?” she felt like that was a valid question for the former Empress

Vaylin seemed to frown for a second but brushed it off “you’re not the one asking questions here I could have the fleet here in a second to destroy you” Kavaraa eyes widened did she not realise?

Kavaraa cocked her head at Vaylin “you don’t know?, um Vaylin what’s the last thing you remember” she could see Vaylin twitch as she asked the question

She blinked and looked off for a second “I was fighting the Outlander in the fores…” she trailed off and frowned “no I was fighting my father with my family and the Outlander…” she looked around the room her focus no longer on Kavaraa allowing her to shuffle away from the saber “they freed me from his control…” she looked off distantly clearly confused by the memories “and then I was here” she turned back to Kavaraa a pained expression on her face

That pain quickly turned to anger as Kavaraa saw Vaylin snarl and lift a tree out of the ground and throw it at the wall, Kavaraa gulped as much as she was scared of Vaylin it was clear she needed some help otherwise she may kill Kavaraa.

She slowly moved closer “you said you were fighting the Outlander did you win?” Vaylin’s grip was tight on her saber and as Kavaraa got close she found herself at the end of it once again

Vaylin snarled at her “what’s it to you Jedi!” Kavaraa jumped back in fright and as she did she noticed Vaylin’s expression soften in surprise

She cocked her head as Kavaraa shivered “are you scared of me?” Kavaraa looked away awkwardly was it better to lie here or be honest

She took a deep breath “I am yeah I’m sorry but you’re pretty intimidating, I’m not trying to play you or anything I’m genuinely just trying to help I don’t know my way out of here but I know it’s not at the end of your blade” Vaylin looked down dejected Kavaraa didn’t know if she was hurt by the fact she was scared of Vaylin or if it was something else “so again did you win?” Kavaraa hoped her helping Arcann could help her understand but Vaylin seemed entirely different

Vaylin lowered her saber a bit and blinked “I don’t think so, I don’t remember winning” a more frightened look was coming over Vaylin’s face

Kavaraa moved closer how on earth did she tell her this “and do you think either of you would’ve left each other the option to escape and prolong the war” Vaylin’s eyes widened as she shivered

She dropped the saber from her hand as she shuddered her mouth agape “I… I… I died she killed me and held me in her arms, I gave her no other option” Kavaraa couldn’t even imagine what she was going through right now, she knew this was the former Empress who’d done terrible things but Senya had explained how if anyone was to blame it was Valkorion and herself.

Kavaraa tried her best not to overstep Vaylin’s boundaries while still comforting her “I’m sorry Vaylin but you left us no other choice, everything Valkorion did to you was horrible you didn’t deserve any of it” Vaylin’s sadness turned to anger again

She scowled at Kavaraa “what do you know of my pain Jedi!” Kavaraa swallowed hard as she felt the force energy coming from Vaylin, she had to stay strong though if she was going to survive

Kavaraa gave the kindest smile she could “I knew your brother and I helped him come to terms with his past, he still has a long way to go but he’s not what anyone made him. He told me what Valkorion did to all of you-” Kavaraa didn’t get to finish her sentence as Vaylin tackled her to the ground

Vaylin bared her teeth at her as Kavaraa began to hyperventilate “you’re the one who turned my brother against me! With your lies of peace and forgiveness as if anyone could forgive us for what we did” Kavaraa could feel her heart rate spike as she shook from fear she didn’t realise quite how afraid she was of Vaylin

Kavaraa closed her eyes to try and fight through the fear “I’m not saying it was easy but he helped save the galaxy from Valkorion and by the sounds of it so did you, I didn’t turn your brother against you I only did what I promised Senya if you want to blame someone blame her she certainly feels guilt for what happened” as soon as Kavaraa finished she felt the grip loosen as Vaylin let go of her

She was sitting on the ground looking away “you really are scared of me aren't you” Kavaraa nodded lying seemed like it would do no good here “it’s ok I’ve done plenty to earn it” she sighed “you’re wrong though, not everyone can change I’ve had plenty of opportunities” Kavaraa sat up brushing the dirt off her

Kavaraa nodded “I don't see it quite like that you say you’ve had opportunities but they’ve always been influenced by one common villain” Vaylin still seemed angry and like she’d snap at her in a second but at least she may be getting through

Vaylin hugged her knees and mumbled “Valkorion” Kavaraa nodded “but he’s gone now?” Kavaraa nodded again and smiled

She sighed “look I don’t know if you can change, I used to think everyone could change with the right environment but I think I was wrong some people just don’t want to change and that’s that. But who knows maybe now with that part of your life gone you could and if you don’t want to then I guess I can’t help” Vaylin sighed clearly considering what Kavaraa had said

She scoffed “it doesn’t matter anyway I’m dead, I had my chance and I wasted it if we were both alive I wouldn’t have indulged this conversation I’d just have killed you on the spot, but this is the most vivid thing that’s happened since we defeated Valkorion” Kavaraa shivered at the thought glad she had some buffer to stop Vaylin’s destructive side

Kavaraa shrugged “well you say that but clearly this holocron has stopped part of your soul from passing on into the living force so you’re technically alive even if your vessel is dead, plenty of people have had multiple vessels” as much as using those tyrannical people as an example was a bad idea it may reassure the former Empress

Vaylin seemed to consider it “I guess but they were all evil and dark methods” Kavaraa nodded sadly “what do you mean about a holocron?” she asked causing Kavaraa’s eyes to widen

She explained “well that’s how I got here I noticed something familiar from a holocron in the archive I’m at and when I focussed on it I arrived here” Vaylin frowned looking around

She scowled “so I’m trapped forever in a prison, the more things change the more they stay the same” Kavaraa nodded she didn’t really have any answers for Vaylin or any solutions but she could at least try to help her, more for Arcann and Senya than anything she knew they’d appreciate this. “But you’re not here for me Kavaraa what’s the actual reason you’re here” Kavaraa was surprised by the question although true she was surprised Vaylin had the context to put it together

She looked away “well my ancestors run this archive and there’s a threat to it so I kinda gotta stay and protect it” she felt like telling the person eternally trapped in a holocron was fine she couldn’t exactly tell anyone

Vaylin clearly had given up on being aggressive accepting her fate at least for the time being “what sort of threat? I’d kill for something interesting” Kavaraa shivered knowing she meant it but while she was stuck here she may as well talk about it

She explained “well um it turns out the Emperor’s Wrath is here trying to consolidate power and I don’t exactly want her finding this place or getting herself more power” Vaylin nodded leaning against a tree

She yawned “is the wrath the tall pale one with the red robes or the red and black one with the pretty hair” Kavaraa frowned a bit at the descriptions especially because she’d fought Kyradia on multiple occasions

She let out a small chuckle “the first one, very tall, very angry and very powerful” Vaylin seemed to frown at this and turn to her

Vayin shook her head “I mean sure she’s pretty powerful but she’s so easy to get in the head of, that’s how I beat her; you just get her all angry and rage filled and she’ll start making mistakes. Fighting her isn’t about outclassing her power cause believe me even I was a little intimidated by her power, it’s about out thinking her cause she isn’t the smartest one you’ve ever seen” Kavaraa nodded surprised to be getting advice from the former Empress of all people but she did bring up a valid point

Kavaraa stroked her chin “what sorta stuff did you use to get in her head” she’d never been the trash talky type

Vaylin smiled “oh easy stuff like ‘you’re just a pawn in the emperors game’ or ‘he’s just using you you’ll never be part of his empire’ or ‘he abandoned you’ usually stuff people would say to me, although they may need to be adapted now father is well and truly disposed of” Kavaraa shivered hearing her talk so casually about her father's death but she doubted she understood what it had been like

Kavaraa nodded “I think I can work out something like that, I can’t believe I'm gonna say this but thanks Vaylin” Vaylin seemed confused by the statement

She frowned “Uh why I didn’t do anything?” Kavaraa shook her head

She smiled “seriously before this I have never come close to beating the Wrath now I have a genuine chance you just helped me out” Vaylin seemed confused and unsure what to say

She let out a deep breath “uh you’re welcome I think, I didn’t do it for you though this is just the only thing that’s been more than a vague memory for ages I’d take anything over how it feels in here” Kavaraa shivered she couldn’t imagine “can I ask how long it’s been since I uh ‘died’” Kavaraa didn’t even know how to answer that

She twiddled her thumbs “um it’s been about 2 years give or take” Vaylin’s eyes widened as she looked around

She put her hands to her temples “ugh 2 years and to me it felt like a couple days I gotta find a way out of here” she looked to Kavaraa and for a few moments clearly had to bring herself to ask something “can you uh… can you um… can you come visit me every now and again so I don’t go crazy, I’ll even help with your problems just keep me from going insane, well anymore insane” Kavaraa was surprised at the request clearly Vaylin’s initial anger had melted away when she’d realised the magnitude of her predicament but was she ready to visit someone who terrified her

She thought of Senya and Arcann and realised she had to help “ok Vaylin I’ll visit when I can but first of all I have to work out a way out of here” Vaylin nodded thinking to herself

She smiled “Maybe I can help with that” she concentrated and a quick fog built up around them and before Kavaraa knew it she was back in her chambers in the archive breathing heavily.

She gasped realising the magnitude of what just happened. She’d just found the dead former Empress Vaylin in a holocron and she was seemingly cooperating with her, Kavaraa expected it was because she had to to even think about escaping the thing. But still maybe she could do something similar to what she did with Arcann, she certainly wouldn’t mind helping the Tiralls a little more. Kavaraa picked up the holocron and looked at it with a smile, maybe she could fix them...

15 notes · View notes

millies-theme · 4 years

Photo

Okay so like... I can’t find this in my archive? I drew it early last month and it looks like it never made its way here :I (Sorry if I already posted this, I legit can’t find it in my archive)

Mini's mouth twitched as she trundled through the forest. She'd ONLY just BARELY managed to evade her caretakers. The dappled lights of the forest flickered around her, making it seem brighter and happier than its inhabitants would belie. But as long as she didn't go too far away from the Gate and camp, she could avoid the bigger Digis that would want to eat her or tear her leg off. Well. Probably. Sometimes a particularly determined or angry digimon would try and get through the Gate, which usually either led to their death or the death of a few Minumarmon. Those days always sucked. Mini continued to weave and bob between fallen trees, stumps, and impressively large oak trees until she came to her special spot: The Leave-and-Take tree. That's what Mini called it anyway.

She wasn't sure of what it was called, but the massive hollowed out birch had a tiny, brassy plaque on it that said “Take one to enjoy, but be sure to leave one to bring others joy" It was full to the brim with hundreds of books; Some old and worn, with yellowed, crinkly pages, and others new, with crisp white square pages. Mini loved the way the place smelled; The earthy smell from the ground, mixing with the parchment smell, and the leaves... It was a perfect secret spot to spend an afternoon. She loved all the books, even the ones with very long words she couldn't understand (sometimes, she'd ask her caretakers what a word meant; she's always act like she'd overheard someone else saying it and wanted to know what it meant) While she spent hours at the tree, she never took them away, which meant she was still following the rules, right? Someday, she would bring a new book to the tree, in return for all the hours it had let her spend there.

The sun had drifted lower in the sky over the last few hours, making the light slowly go from pale yellow to deep gold. Mini was determined to finish her book before going home; She'd started it last week, and was so close to figured out who had killed the “humon” in the story. She still wasn't certain on what a “humon” was, but at this point she just assumed they looked like hairy floramons. She started flipping a page, stopping as she heard a stick snap in the distance. Shoot – was one of the Minumarmons coming to look for her? She stifled a gasp as it occurred to her that might mean for her; They wouldn't let her come back here – heck, they might not let her out of their sights until she was an adult! Mini gently closed the book in her paws, shuffling back along the branch carefully as to not snap any twigs off. She held her breath, rapidly darting her head around in the hopes of spotting the offending twig snapper. It wasn't a Minumarmon, that was obvious now.

It was big, and a pale cream, with a gold tail and lots of horns on its neck, and a single, spiraling horn on its head.

It stopped, sniffed the ground, and sat down as something on it's back shifted around. Another digimon, most likely. It only took a moment for the other digimon to show its head, squeaking loudly as it ran up the larger digimon's head. It didn't look to be the same species. Well. she assumed it wasn't the same species. Some digimon lines weren't exactly.... easy to decipher. Mini scooted back again, only to yelp as she moved too far to the side. She sucked in a breath, clamping a paw over her mouth as the digimon raised its head. It barked – er. Quietly shouted? - something that sounded like “Lu”, and the Digimon on its head rushed back to the safety of its neck. Mini watched with baited breath as it looked around, only to let out a quiet whine as she realized she was slipping.

Shoot.

Mini pulled the paw away from her muzzle, desperately scrabbling against the smooth bark trying to find a purchase. It didn't work. She teetered on the edge of the branch for a second, going crash-bang to the ground the next. Mini sat, stunned for a second, before squealing as a cold, hard claw nudged her side. They had moved so fast! “you good?” A low, grumbling voice asked, whiskers tickling the side of her head. “YEAH! ARE YOU OKAY??” A second voice shouted, somehow louder than the first. Mini cracked open an eye, expecting to see a cavernous maw of teeth and death. The face she saw, while big, and with big teeth, seemed more friendly and worried than about to eat her. "You're not dead, so I'm just gonna assume you're alright." It said, nudging her. Mini sat, trembling as the digimon continued to stare at her. “So.... Where are your caretakers? Around here somewhere, I guess?” Mini stared up with woeful eyes, hunkering down further into the dirt. Oh. He was just going to take her back to her caretakers. And then they'd know where she'd been and this was it. No more tree. No more books til she grew older and split from the group – if she ever did. “Look kid, I don't wanna hurt you, I just wanna make sure you don't get hurt. There's guys out here who'll eat you.” “YEAH! THERE'S A BIG MEAN OL' GAZIMON OUT HERE WHO KEEPS TRYING TO EAT ME AND HE'LL EAT YOU TOO!” Mini jolted as a small digimon all but leapt off of the big ones back, turning dizzying circles as it yelled. "....what?” Mini responded, tilting her head. “THERE'S-” “Lu. Outdoor voice.” “Aaaaaaaaa ok papa” The smaller one trailed off, kneading the fur in between spikes. “There's digimon who could kill you, kiddo. Where's your caretakers?” “Uhm.” She could lie, and say they were nearby, or be honest. If she lied, he'd likely make her sit there til someone showed up, and someone would eventually show up to find her. Which would mean no more tree. If she was honest, he'd likely escort her back to her family – which would also mean no more tree. There was a third option, she realized. She could run. But one glance at the massive digimon in front of her quashed that. Honesty it was.

"Lu. Off." The white digimon said before yawning, mouth stretching wider than Mini's head was big. He grunted, scratching behind a spike as “Lu” jumped off. “HI!!!!” The small yellow digimon squealed, getting right up in Mini's face. Mini started, jerking her head back to avoid getting smacked in the muzzle. “Uhm. They're back at the Gate...” Mini mumbled, fully anticipating a scolding. It wasn't horribly far, but it was still far enough that if she yelled no one there would hear her. “that's awfully far for someone your age. Do they know you're here?” “..no.” Mini mumbled even quieter, huffing a sigh at the end. “Ah. Sneaking out, hm? Do you want someone to walk you back, if you're done?” Mini tilted her head. This was not the reaction she had been expecting. A scolding, a few harsh words, and maybe a nip on the scruff before being marched back to Miestro. “Uh. No, thank you. I know the way back pretty well..” She stood up, eyes on the ground as she shook herself off. “Alright. Holler if you need someone. It's Sear, by the way.” He added the last part after a pause, like an afterthought. “Lucy.” Sear called, letting out a gruff laugh as the tiny digimon sped over to him, tail a blur as she jumped up on Sear's back. “I won't bite if you come back. Feel free to sneak out again, just let me know you're here.” And with that, he turned around and lumbered off into the forest, Lucy running back and forth on his back quickly.

That.... Went far better than anticipated. She shook herself off, and picked up the book that had fallen from the tree. She dusted it off, and tucked it back into its hole in the tree. With another quiet sigh, she hurried off into the underbrush, hoping to get back before the sun went down – or before Miestro noticed.

#digimon oc #digifake #fandigimon #story #writing #scene #ceasarmon #long post

4 notes · View notes

creative-type · 4 years

Text

wake from death (and return to life) chapter iii

AO3 Previous AN: Hey, it’s chapter 3! I fully admit that to fiddling with the mechanics of Betty’s DF in this chapter, but it’s my fic so I get to do what I want

Kuina woke up sore and confused, alone in a room she did not recognize. Her clothes were stiff with dried salt and blood, and when she jerked up in a panic she discovered the bunk above her by bashing her head into the wooden slats.

“Ow....”

Slowly her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and memories of the previous day trickled in. Kuina groped for her sword, letting out a small sigh of relief when she felt that it was by her side, her bag tucked between her pillow and the wall.

Did ships have walls? Other than her voyage from Shimotsuki Village to Loguetown, she didn’t have much experience sailing. It had always seemed like too great a risk when everything she needed could be found within the city.

Kuina snorted as she sat up, careful to mind her head. Her past self would be appalled to know all the stupid things she’d done in the last twenty-four hours.

There was nothing for it now but to move forward. Kuina brought her bag into her lap and began surveying the damage. There was the beginnings of a hole near one of the seams that Kuina didn’t trust, and the thick material was still damp and heavy with seawater. When she opened the flap, Kuina couldn’t stop a small noise of dismay from escaping her throat. Nothing inside had been waterproofed, and her tumble down the cliff had smashed the bento Ipponmatsu lovingly prepared into pieces, smearing bits of rice and god knew what else over the inside of her pack. The clothes could be washed and the bag repaired, but her money—so carefully horded after years of bounty hunting—was a soggy mess of paper and ink that threatened to disintegrate in her hands.

The loss of the money didn’t bother her. At least, not much. There was always a need for bounty hunters, and pirates in the Grand Line tended to be worth more than those in the East Blue. No, what Kuina found more distressing was the implication of failure. She had spent the better part of nine years dreaming of the day she would escape the East Blue. She’d planned and schemed, imagining what it would be like to reunite with Zoro at last, only for it to all fall to pieces the moment he made it to Loguetown.

The shattered expectations were like a kick in the teeth, and now she was at the mercy of a bunch of terrorists, at least one of whom wanted to kill her. It wasn’t fair, and Kuina felt herself getting angry all over again. She welcomed it. Anger was better than having to think about the fact she’d thrown away every protection her father had given her for nothing.

She wouldn’t let her guard down again.

Taking a deep breath, Kuina hurried to get ready as best she could. She was acutely aware that she stank and probably looked like a hobo, but a quick survey of her quarters didn’t reveal anything that could help her in that regard. She settled for brushing the salt out of her hair and changing into a pair of clothes that didn’t have any bloodstains, As she moved Kuina took an inventory of aches and pains, and was pleasantly surprised that other than a little soreness and a gimpy ankle she was unharmed.

She’d cleaned and oiled her sword before allowing herself to sleep, but Kuina inspected it again anyway. A fresh scar gashed across the black lacquered scabbard, but the night’s escapades hadn’t damaged the sword itself. There was a quiet elegance to the katana her father had given her. It was a blade that didn’t feel the need to draw attention to itself, from the plain, straight hamon, to the simple black handle, to the unremarkable round guard devoid of engravings. There was nothing about Kuina’s sword that stood out as exceptional, but to hold it was to know true craftsmanship. It was shorter and lighter than Wado Ichimonji without sacrificing durability. There weren’t many swords who would have survived being stabbed into a cliffside without shattering. Hers hadn’t even dulled.

Kuina gave a few experimental swings, blade cutting through the air noiselessly and steel singing in her hands. Satisfied that it was in good condition, she hung the sword at her hip, feeling more at ease despite the less-than-ideal circumstances she found herself in.

With her katana taken care of, Kuina looked around her surroundings for the first time. There were beds all around her, enough for at least two dozen people, but the Revolutionary Army was nowhere to be seen. Kuina frowned, senses sharpening with her alertness. There was a slight sway underfoot, but the sea wasn’t as rough as what she’d expect from the Grand Line. She could hear people outside the cabin and the pounding of feet above her, but their voices were too muffled and far away. Kuina skulked to the door and tested the handle—unlocked. Confusion deepening, she left the cabin, only to come once again to an abrupt stop.

A giant of a woman was sitting outside her doorway, eyes closed and arms wrapped protectively around the biggest crossbow Kuina had ever seen. A bolt was loaded into the chamber, one meaty hand laying too close to the trigger for comfort.

Kuina hadn’t made any noise, but the woman blinked awake. With a yawn, she looked up at Kuina, eyes unreadable behind thick glasses.

“Good morning,” Kuina said.

The woman nodded in response and clambered to her feet. She was as tall as Dragon and nearly as broad, built as solid as an oak tree. Thick shocks of short brown hair spiked in all directions, looking like it hadn’t been combed in weeks and giving her head the look of an unkempt hedgehog. The wildness of her hair seemed at odds with the rest of her face, a square jawline, narrow nose, and thin lips lending her a severe, humorless expression.

“Are you going to shoot me?” Kuina asked cautiously.

“Only if I have to,” she said, her voice too soft for someone so large. She beckoned Kuina to follow as she headed down the corridor. “This way. You slept through breakfast, but I’m sure we can find something for you to eat.”

Nonplussed, Kuina followed. “Who are you?”

“Lyudmila Kuznetsova.”

Kuina waited for her to elaborate, and when she didn’t, asked, “You’re a part of the Revolution?”

Without turning around, she said in that too-soft voice. “We all are, but you. We took you because Dragon asked and nothing else, so do not presume to think you are privy to our secrets.”

As if Kuina wanted their secrets. People...Revolutionaries...stopped at the sight of them, many wearing masks or with their faces covered in bandanas or cloth wraps. Kuina could hear them whisper before they even got out of earshot.

She squared her jaw and kept her hand near her katana, refusing to be cowed. “Fair enough. Have we made it to the Grand Line yet? I know the entrance is near Loguetown, but I didn’t feel us ride up a crazy mountain so…”

A ghost of a small passed over Lyudmila’s features, gone almost before Kuina had to register its existence. “We are not going to the Grand Line.”

“What.”

“You join a Revolutionary ship, you run on the Revolution’s timeline.” Lyudmila stopped to pound at a thick wooden door. “Elizabeth!”

After a few seconds of silence the door flew open, revealing a five foot bundle of wrath and irritability in the shape of a woman wearing thick rubber gloves and a backward baseball cap. “What is it, I’m busy!”

Lyudmila gestured to Kuina. “Guest needs food.”

“Guest can kiss my ass!”

Elizabeth’s attempt to slam the door shot were foiled by Lyudmila stretching out one thick arm, effortlessly arresting the door’s momentum. The smell of something sulfuric wafted into the hallway.

“Guest needs food,” she repeated.

“Then take her to the galley. I’m busy.”

“I don’t need anything to eat,” Kuina said. “When is this ship going to the Grand Line?”

“See, she doesn’t even want food. Now go away and—” Elizabeth was cut off by a sharp popping noise, like someone had set off a firecracker in the room behind her. With a strangled yelp, she rushed back towards the smell of sulfur, which was getting stronger by the second. Unperturbed, Lyudmila went in after her, with Kuina sneaking in close behind.

The room looked to be a converted storage closet, crammed with shelves of strange bottles full of mysterious liquids and dominated by a solid oak table that had been bolted to the floor. The source of the odor seemed to come from there, where a large beaker of bubbling fluid was threatening to boil over into an electric burner that for some reason had been wired to half a dozen potatoes.

Elizabeth quickly cut power to the burner, waving her hands to disperse the fumes. She gave Lyudmila a look that could have peeled paint.

“If that’s how you cook potatoes, I don’t want any,” Kuina deadpanned. She smiled innocently as Elizabeth turned the full force of her glare on her.

“I see the Revolution’s recruited another meatshield,” she said acidly. “Probably spent too much time learning how to wave around pointy metal sticks to ever go to school, or you might have known it’s a battery. Idiot.”

Kuina’s grin sharpened. “Didn’t grow potatoes back home, my teacher used lemons instead.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “You’d think Revolutionary agents would know how to recognize a joke since you joined up with one, but I guess that’s my fault for not lowering my standards. Idiot.”

Sighing softly, Lyudmila set her crossbow on the table and stepped between them. Clasping one hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder and another on Kuina’s, she forced both of them to take a step back. “Enough. Elizabeth, you are assistant cook. It is your job to make sure our guest is fed. And you—” A coldness passed over her, even as her expression remained perfectly neutral, “—would do well to keep your mouth shut.”

Her grip on Kuina’s shoulder was like iron. There was no indication that it took any effort for her to hold her in place. Part of Kuina wanted to push her just a little bit farther, just to see how far that strength went, but the sensible side of her knew better than to test the generosity of the Revolutionary Army. At least while Dragon was aboard.

“I just want to get to the Grand Line,” Kuina said.

Lyudmila loosened her hold, eyebrows rising over the rims of her glasses. “You have chosen a very odd way of doing so. Elizabeth?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get the asshole her breakfast. Just give me a sec.”

Kuina decided it would be better to wait outside the strange room full of exploding liquids and potatoes, and a few minutes later Elizabeth emerged to thrust two slices of toast into her hands. One side was burnt so badly to be charcoal, while the other was still cold. Kuina looked up at Lyudmila in silent question. The giantess only shrugged.

“I did not say she was a good cook.”

Xxx

“Okay, but seriously, when are we going to the Grand Line? Because if it’s going to be awhile I might as well get off at the next island and hitch a ride with someone else.”

They were above deck, waiting outside the captain’s quarters, but why, Kuina didn’t know. She was impatient and ill-tempered, but tried not to show it as she scanned her surroundings for potential enemies. In the daylight she could see that she’d lionized the ship the night before. Without the storm and the lightning it seemed like a perfectly average brigantine with a crew of about a hundred men. There were no signs betraying its true nature; it sailed under the flag of a merchant company and there were no cannons on deck to draw suspicion.

There were a surprising amount of women, maybe a quarter of the crew in total. Some, like Lyudmila, carried weapons, and all looked to be competent sailors. Kuina couldn’t recall a single ship passing through Loguetown with so many women aboard, pirate or otherwise. Even the marines base, despite their relentless recruiting efforts, couldn’t boast so many, and they had a Tashigi as their second-in-command.

Kuina didn’t know what to think of that, so she pushed the thought aside. The gender ratio among the Revolutionary Army wasn’t her concern.

“Why do you wish to go?” Lyudmila asked.

Kuina’s grip on her sword tightened. “You have your secrets, I have mine.”

Lyudmila inclined her head. “Fair enough.”

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, and Kuina felt a knot in her stomach loosen, grateful that Lyudmila didn’t pry or seem suspicious of her intentions. There was a steadying presence about Lyudmila, like an anchor during a storm, that made it easier to bear the uncertainty of not knowing what was going to happen next.

They had waited for about five minutes when a figure descended from the crow’s nest and bounded toward them like a bullet. It was yet another woman, taller than average but nowhere near Lyudmila’s hulking height, with a willowy build and crow-black hair pulled into a braid that fell halfway down her back. She grinned mischievously, white teeth flashing against coppery brown skin. “The stowaway lives!”

“I’m not a stowaway,” Kuina said.

“Eh, close enough. Name’s Darareaksmey, but most call me Dara. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. Although I guess technically we met last night,” She clasped her hands together and gave an irreverent bow.

“We met?” Kuina said.

“Kinda sorta—you were asleep by the time my watch ended. Did you know you snore?” Dara looked up at Lyudmila. “So what’s the verdict? Does she get to stay, or is someone going to have to throw her overboard?”

The door to the captain’s quarters opened before Kuina had a chance to voice her indignant protest. Dragon stepped out onto deck, along with Betty and another woman Kuina didn’t recognize.

“Dara, if you’re going to eavesdrop, you better learn how to do it quietly,” the woman Kuina didn’t know said. “Now scat. If you have time to loiter, you have time to work.”

Dara stuck out her lower lip. “But, Boss! I want to know what happens—”

“I said scat.”

Still pouting, Dara slunk away with the unrepentant mulishness of a cat that’d just been scolded for clawing up the furniture. Betty smirked, a look of fond exasperation on her face. “I bet that one gives you grief.”

“Not as much as I suspect this one will,” the woman retorted, jerking a thumb in Kuina’s direction. “Are you sure you can’t take her?”

“You know that’s impossible.”

“Only until you reach the Grand Line,” Dragon said soothingly. “Then she must decide where the wind will carry her.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Kuina, her hand resting on the elaborate hilt of the rapier she wore at her side. Kuina had always wondered how people could fight with a sword like that. It looked like it would hold up in a real fight about as well as a toothpick against a machete. “I don’t like it.”

“It’s a week at best,” Betty said.

A week. They were going to delay her entrance to the Grand Line by a week. Under any other circumstances Kuina would have been ecstatic to be so close after so many years, but she’d just been at the entrance the night before. She should be there now, not however long it took for the Revolution to tire of dragging her around for the hell of it.

“Don’t I get any say in this?” Kuina asked.

“You got your say when you demanded for Dragon to take you in the first place,” Betty said. She gestured to the woman beside her. “Kuina, meet Aria de Gris. She will be the captain of the ship that will take you to the Grand Line. Aria, this is Kuina.”

The two women regarded each other warily. Aria was stockily built and carried herself with feline grace. There was a sharpness to her features, which were more handsome than beautiful, that was accentuated by a jagged scar on the left side of her face that ran from temple to jaw. Her hair was kept shorter than even Kuina’s, with garish streaks of purple in her otherwise dark hair.

Like many experienced sailors, she was weatherbeaten in a way that made it difficult to tell if she was thirty-five or fifty, and she wore a heavily-embroidered doublet and black breeches that she tucked into scuffed, knee-high boots. A long jacket hung from her shoulders, empty sleeves rustling in the breeze.

Kuina narrowed her eyes. Only marines wore their jackets like that.

“I appreciate the offer, but when I asked to go with you I was working under the assumption you’d be headed directly for the Grand Line,” Kuina said. “Now that I know that’s not the case, I think it would be better for everyone involved if you guys just drop me off at the next island, and I’ll find my own way.”

“And you would think wrong,” Betty said.

“Look, I’m trying to be reasonable here,” Kuina snapped. “It’s clear you don’t like me, and I sure as hell don’t like you, so why can’t we just part amicably and call it a day? It’s not like I’m going to be able to narc after what happened at Loguetown. The marines don’t cut deals with people who attack their junior officers, even if the info’s good. I don’t plan on ending up in prison.”

Aria snorted before reaching into her breast pocket for a cigarette and a lighter. “There’s no planned stop till we get to our destination, and I doubt you want to hang around a war zone. Not many ships headed to the Grand Line there.”

“War zone?” Kuina echoed.

“This is an army, kid, not a pleasure cruise. So put on your big girl panties and let Mila show you the ropes. On this ship, if you don’t work, you don’t eat.”

“You trust me to do work for the Revolutionary Army?” Kuina asked.

“Nope, but I already told Mila to put a bolt between your eyes at the first sign of trouble, and I do trust her. So I guess it’s up to you how this charade plays out.”

Kuina’s eyes flickered up at Lyudmila, and wondered if she was as fast as she was strong. She suppressed a grimace and forced her hand away from her sword. As much as she didn’t like it, she couldn’t deny that it was her own fault she was on this ship. With her money nothing more than a soggy lump of paper, it was only fair that Kuina earn her keep.

Dragon nodded approvingly. “Listen to Betty and Aria, and when you arrive at the Grand Line make your choice. I can’t guarantee your safety otherwise.”

“You make it sound like you’re not going to be around,” Kuina said. Dragon didn’t respond, but his silence said plenty. A quick glance was enough to show that Betty was no happier about their arrangement than she had been the night before, and Kuina didn’t want to find out how she’d act when her big boss wasn’t around. “Where are you going?”

There was a delicate pause, broken by an unladylike snicker. Aria hid her face by taking another drag from her cigarette, but couldn’t stop her shoulders from shaking with surprised laughter.

“It’s the Grand Line, isn’t it?” Kuina said. “You get to go to the Grand Line while I’m stuck sailing in the opposite direction.”

“Yes.”

Kuina bit back a caustic remark. She didn’t know what game he was playing, but whatever it was, she wouldn’t let him win. A swordsman paid their debts, and as twisted as the deal was, the Revolutionary Army had promised her a way into the Grand Line.

And if they tried to renege on their promise, then, well, she could pay that back, too.

“Fine. You’ll have my blade for a week and no more. What kind of war are we walking into, anyway? Has the Revolution taken over some backwater island, or are you going after the Government directly?”

“Oh, you won’t be doing any fighting,” Betty said.

“Why not?” Kuina asked. “I’ve already proven my skill, and I don’t have much choice but to do what you say. I won’t go after civilians, but I’m pretty sure any marine who knows who I am is going to attack me on sight anyway.”

“I’ll show you why.”

Betty reached behind her and pulled out a small flag from somewhere on her person. Where, exactly, Kuina would never know, because the volumes of her skirt didn’t appear to have pockets, and the only other articles of clothing she was wearing was an unbuttoned jacket and tie. It was the most uncomfortable ensemble Kuina had ever seen, but before she could make a smart remark Betty had waved the flag in front of her.

Kuina saw the black lettering on a scarlet background, a stylized dragon standing proudly between the R and the A, showing for all the world to see who exactly who the Revolutionary Army fought for. Kuina tensed, bending down into a ready stance, but Betty didn’t seem to be attacking.

“What the…?”

Sudden, naked fear pierced past Kuina’s defenses. Her stance wobbled, cold sweat beading at her forehead and heart pounding in her chest. The echo of cold, mocking laughter reverberated in her mind, memories half-forgotten painted anew, rejoining the terror and powerlessness she felt when she had been unable to break Dragon’s hold. The bruise on her wrist throbbed where he had grabbed her, the acute awareness that her blade had failed to even touch him leaving a dread heaviness in her gut.

This is what happens when you do business with the Revolution.

Kuina wanted to puke. She wanted to run, to throw herself into the sea, because to be in the same space as the Revolutionary Army was to court death and pain. It didn’t matter how altruistic they seemed, they were the enemy. An enemy that was much stronger than she.

“Devil Fruit?” Kuina spat between clenched teeth. “That’s playing dirty.”

“A flag properly wielded inspires those who fight for it. But for those that don’t, it brings nothing but terror,” Betty said. “And put your sword away before someone gets hurt.”

Kuina looked down at her hands. She didn’t even remember drawing her blade. Her hands shook so badly she doubted she could swing it, although at that moment there was nothing she wanted more than to cut the smug look off of Betty’s face.

“I’m surprised she can even hold it,” Aria said thoughtfully.

“A trapped animal bites hardest,” Betty said. She raised an eyebrow at Dragon. “Are you sure about this?”

Dragon turned back to the captain’s quarters, cloak billowing behind him. “Until the Grand Line.”

He shut the door behind him, leaving Kuina alone with the three other women. Lyudmila patted her bracingly on the back, the force of the blow almost making her stumble. “Welcome aboard.”

Kuina didn’t trust herself to speak. Despite the tremor in her hands she managed to sheathe her blade cleanly. Swallowing hard, she gathered a modicum of her composure before glaring balefully at Betty. The Revolutionary remained unmoved.

“Dragon seems to think you have potential, but I can’t help but wonder why someone who was nearly cut in half by the World Government would hold such resentment for the people fighting against it.”

Without waiting for Kuina to respond, she and Aria rejoined Dragon. Once the door shut behind them Kuina looked up at Lyudmila. Between shaking breaths she said, “Just so you know, I’m not going to let myself get shot.”

Her expression was impassive as stone. “Then I ask that you do not give me reason to do so, because I will not miss.”

#creative-type writes #wake from death (and return to life)#kuina #one piece #one piece fanfic #creative-type doodles

3 notes · View notes

enacclimatechangethings · 4 years

Text

Mathieu 18/03

I am no expert to argue on what to do to reduce your carbon footprint. I am just a random citizen who struggles the best he can to change its surroundings. When it comes to climate change issues, I am too pragmatic and scientific to ignore the true reality. For a few decades, global warming is skyrocketing, and we are slowly sleepwalking into an unsustainable world. To rein in gas emissions and to slow down the pace, I use some tips that I’m going to explain in this document.

The first tip, and without any doubt the most important, is to stay humble and to listen to the others. Everyone has a different approach with climate change, and has something to learn. The best way to improve our relation to climate change is to consider every idea, and to analyze it using actual science and figures. Only then, one has to figure out if it is a change for the better or for the worse. Please remember some undeniable basic rules :

The argument of the majority is not an argument. It is not because a huge part of the population (or even the whole population) does “something”, that this “something” is legit. The number of partisans should never be a norm, not even a tiny one.

The argument of the duration is not a valid one. An idea is not more reliable or efficient because we do it for a long time. You should never take the time factor into account when it comes to assessing an idea.

The following part will cast a light on a huge number of tips you can adopt in your daily life. As my knowledge on this issue is limited, I will only argue and feedback the ones I uses daily.

Let’s begin with an obvious one, do not use your car when you can take your bike instead. It saves gas and means fewer cars on the road—which means less carbon emissions. Plus, it’ll keep you in a good health and your wallet happy! Moreover, you’ll end up being more punctual than before, the bike rides do not depend on traffic jam and can use special roads. You are not too far from your job to use your bike, I live 12km from ENAC and I go there by bike each morning, each evenings, for 2 years. I walk to the mall and I just need a case to put in my purchases, I don’t need a car, I save the planet.

Try not to eat meat. The figures put forward by the scientists are scattered. 1kg of meat needs between 50L and 15000L of water. The most trustworthy company reports that 1kg of meat uses 700L of tap water. Even more, the fields to raise meat animals are created by cutting down wild forest. Around 90% of all the fields are targeted to raise animals and animal hay. This is the major cause of deforestation. Eating meat is one of the main cause for concern. If you don’t think you can become vegetarian, try first to reduce your daily dose of meat. Believe me, being vegetarian is not sounding the death knell of your tastes! You just need to relearn how to cook, and of course to be more attentive on what you eat, regarding the vitamins you need to have, and the defieciencies you need to dodge.

Unplug everything before leaving your room. A lot of appliances, (un)affectionately called “vampire appliances,” use up electricity even when they’re switched off. Set top boxes(like Google TV and Apple TV) are the worst culprits, but DVD players, modems, and computers also act like little Draculas, sucking up power even when they’re meant to be “dead”. Taking a wooden stake to your appliances is one solution, but the cheapest might be to invest in a power strip and turn it off every time appliances aren’t in use—or just go the manual route and pull the plug.

Dry your clothes in the air. If you have a clothes dryer, there’s a good chance it uses more energy than anything else in your home. Grab a clothes rack, set up a clothes line outside, or just hang wet laundry on clothes hangers around the house. Hang them high and they’ll be dry in a day or two—without spiking the electricity bill. Moreover, if you’re as broke as me and don’t have room for a drycleaner, this could be your lazy chance to rein in gas emissions while sparing money!

Go paperless. Switching to paperless billing lowers the odds of losing bills in the mail and getting the electricity cut off right before your movie marathon. Plus, many billers offer a discount for doing so because it saves them money on stamps and printings, it also cuts down on paper, which cuts down on tree deaths (and don’t you know that trees are hugely helpful in combatting climate change?). I can be also when attending a course at ENAC. Many a teacher give paper sheets with small interest, when the lecture is done, reuse them to write on the blank part for other courses. I helps both reducing your carbon footprint and your savings.

Opt for reusable water bottles. Here’s a secret a lot of people don’t seem to know: Tap water is drinkable. Keeping a nice, BPA-free water bottle in your bag is an insanely simple way to save the cost of a three-dollar bottle of water—the same cost of 300L of water out of the tap at home. Bottled water is incredibly wasteful on so many levels: An estimated 80 percent of them don’t get recycled and, because of the plastic production process, it takes three times the amount of water in a water bottle to produce just one! Instead, you could bring your own Chilly’s (the brand I use) and fill the same eco-friendly bottle again and again. And last but not least, you’ll end up bringing a custom bottle with amazing drawings (or not) on it, and no longer a transparent one that crackles every time you touch it!

Use solid soap instead of liquid one. I don’t have much to say about it, it’s a win-win both the planet and for you. You will spend less money buying it, and solid soaps need less fossil energies and plastic to arrive under your shower.

Recycle your waste. Trash that is thrown away and not recycled will end up either in a landfill, or incinerated, or will hurt the environment in some other way. The more waste that gets recycled, the less damage is done to the environment. Between about 2/3 and 3/4 of household waste is currently recyclable. The more people who get involved recycling, the more resources can be made available for recycling and the more pressure can be put on manufacturers and stores to use renewable materials. All it will cost you is a small amount of time, sorting your waste into the basic categories and washing out cans and bottles and maybe a minimal amount of fuel for the transport of your recycling boxes and bags to be recycled. In my case the trash recycler stands just in front of my building, sorting my waste is even mandatory and no one reports it is a bitter pill.

Use Ecosia instead of Google. Google is one of the biggest polluters in the world. Ecosia provides mainly the same information, but uses only renewable energies to supply its servers. Moreover, Ecosia spends all its revenue planting trees around the world, and fighting climate change. It’s one of the most lazy way to battle global warming while not changing our habits!

To reduce deforestation, we need to jeopardize paper ads. One simple way to do it is to put an “no ads” sticker on your mailbox. Admit it, you never read what you get anyway!

What you just read is my daily routine. Believe me, it’s not that complicated are constraintful. I am not bearing the brunt of my eco-friendly activities, and I am hardly conviced that those will become mainstream in the following decades. Especially in this context, we all understand that putting off is no longer an option and we are going to reach breaking point. We need to think outside the box and to bring solutions to battle global warming. Let’s join the fight and you’ll see that the our quest for saving the Earth is unquenchable!

#sorry

2 notes · View notes

96percentdone · 5 years

Text

The Moonlit Prince and the Lying Thief (Part 2)

Am I late? Yeah. Sorry about that kids I’ve been very busy today! But it’s a day 2 entry anyway for @oumasaiweek, and my tangled AU continues on strong! I think you’ll like the update.

As always, if you want to read the whole thing, you can find it on my blog. I tag them all v3 Tangled AU. I hope you enjoy!

Underneath the all-encompassing darkness of the night, three shadowy figures traverse the bumpy rooftop shingles adorning the palace roof. The figures in the back, a pair of siblings with flowing black hair and matching green clothes, slide and stumble ever so slightly as they trail behind the short man in the front. They do not complain, for they know he would only stop to mock them. ‘Nishishi~ You agreed to this job and yet you can’t handle some roof parkour!’ Instead they whisper amongst themselves, brother and sister, about their plans once the crown is safe from the grasp of the kingdom.

The man in front, the elusive Doukeshi, is aware of his partners’ unpreparedness, but it doesn’t concern him. If he could do this job alone, he would have, but robbing the King and Queen is not a task for only one man, as skilled as he may be. He was not involving his family in this. Should this last quest go wrong, it is better for them to remain where they are, safe. Beneath the venetian harlequin mask, cool violet eyes narrow at the faint specks of blue on the horizon. The sun is rising, and with the sun he’s doomed to fail, but he smirks. He’s always liked a challenge.

Over the bridge, and through the woods, Shuuichi lies in his warm bed, reading a worn-out novel by the flickering light of the lantern. He should be sleeping—there’s still time before sunrise, but he woke up early, and he’s almost through with the book, so he’ll finish it before he sees his aunt off in the morning. The tower is an easy place to leave, so long as you have the patience to plow through the pages. With a faint smile, he turns the page.

There’s a knock on the entrance to his room. Looking up he’s greeted by the tired and wrinkled face of Tsumugi. “You’re up so early, Shuuichi,” she says, taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

He slides the familiar red bookmark in place, and closes the book. “Good morning, Aunt Tsumugi. I could say the same to you.”

“Yes well, I have a few more errands than usual to run today, so I thought it would be best of me to get a head start.” She laughs, and cards her fingers through the feet of his long silver hair by the foot of the bed, pulling it gently into her lap. There’s the faintest hint of wrinkles behind her tired blue eyes.

“Do you need me to sing before you go?”

“If you would, dear.”

“Okay.” Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and sings. “Flower gleam and glow. Let your power shine. Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine.” As he sings, white light travels from the roots of his hair down the long silver strands. “Heal what has been hurt. Change the fates’ design. Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine.” The wrinkles dissipate from her hands and face. “What once was mine.”

When the song ends, the light fades from his hair, and Tsumugi leans forth, pressing a light kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you.” Rising from her seat, the hair in her lap falls back to the bed. “I should head out. I’ll be back in a few hours, okay? Oh—” She stops herself at the entranceway. “Do you need anything? Although keep in mind your birthday is tomorrow.”

Ah yes, Shuuichi’s birthday, the day his aunt took him in after his parents’ passing, or so he’s told. “Actually,” he starts, but the rest of the sentence is caught deep in his throat. There is something he wants, something he’s wanted for as long as he can remember, but he doesn’t know how to ask. Can he ask? He’s not allowed to leave the tower, and yet—“For my birthday, I wanted to…”

“You wanted to…?” But she already can sense the answer.

“I was hoping to see those floating lights,” Shuuichi finishes, weakly, casting a nervous glance at his aunt.

“Oh? The stars?” And though she phrases it as a question, there’s an implicit ‘we’ve discussed this before.’

“I really don’t think they are.” Shuuichi gets up, running his hands along the numerous books lining the many bookcases in his room, before pulling out an astronomy book. He flips to the maps in the back—it’s easier to read than the other book’s maps—and shows it to her. “There are no stars like that. Not in any of the books you’ve given me.” And he has at least seven devoted to stars.

“Yes, well, we did talk about this didn’t we?” Tsumugi sighs, long and exhausted, and gently closes the old leathery book in his hands. “You’re just plain unsafe outside. I wouldn’t feel comfortable risking it.” She could use several excuses—he’ll trip over his hair, there’s plenty of unknown disease, that the world is selfish and wicked—but she’ll stick with her best bet. “Besides, I don’t think you’ll be able to handle it. If anyone tried to kidnap or hurt you, you wouldn’t be able to take a stand for yourself. You’re quite fragile, dear. And very easy to scare.”

He deflates, shoulders sagging as his eyes drop to stare at the floor. Despite taking him in for purely selfish reasons, her heart twinges a little whenever sadness overtakes those eyes. But it isn’t enough to change her mind. She will never let him leave. Running a hand through silky silver hair, she cups his cheek, and he looks up at her. “Think about what you want while I’m out, okay? I’ll go as far as I must to make it up to you.” Of course, she won’t go too far, but they both know he won’t ask that of her.

He nods, the smallest suggestion of a smile gracing his lips. A sign she can leave at ease. Together they head to the living room window, and he rings his hair around the hook, preparing to lower her down. “Take care. I love you.”

“I love you too~ You can sleep in some more, but make sure to clean up before I return, okay?” As soon as she’s made it to the grass clearing safely, Shuuichi heads back to his book, losing himself in an ongoing adventure.

Like all of his adventures, the trickiest part for Doukeshi is not getting caught. He doesn’t make a single sound as the siblings lower him from the skylight in the roof, merely observing his surroundings. Only a single guard is on duty in the enormous and vacant room, standing before the podium that holds the prince’s unused crown, and humming a small tune. The relaxed security is exactly what makes this the prime time to strike.

Carefully, he picks up the sparkling silver crown, and pockets it in his leather satchel. The guard doesn’t seem to notice. In and out, super simple. But he doesn’t think that’s quite so fun, now is it? “Never heard that song before, what’s it called?” With his free hand he cups his cheek, feigning curiosity.

“Oh, it’s called You—” But the oblivious guard stops himself. Why is anyone talking to him at this hour? He jumps up, whirling around and jostling the hat on his head that doesn’t quite fit over the spikes of purple hair, only to see the masked thief gleefully waving at him as he ascends towards the ceiling. “You come back here with that crown!”

Back on the roof, Doukeshi laughs, undoing the harness with ease, and the sun slowly rises behind him. “Lady, gentleman, I think it’s time we go.” The alarm bell rings loud and clear, and they take off towards the outskirts of town.

The bell can only mean one thing, and judging by the expression on Kaito’s face as he rushed into the guards’ quarters, it means the crown was stolen. As everyone dashes out the front gate, following the thieving trio, Maki finds herself being stopped. “Hey who said you were going?” Kaito asks.

Maki sighs, tying back her long hair so it fits neatly under her bright red hat. “They said all guards must go, so I’m going.” Even in an emergency, it seems Kaito has the time to harass her.

“Yeah, but you’re not a guard. You’re still in training.”

“Are you really planning on keeping me in training when the king has been robbed?” She gets on her horse Kurohana, and charges off through the town to the woods. There are bigger problems at hand, like that pesky thief whose been assailing the citizens of kingdoms across the globe, having finally made his way here.

She’s not left alone for long, however, as another galloping set of hooves can be heard trailing close behind her. “Yeah, but we’re not supposed to let rookies go on dangerous missions!” Kaito calls out from behind her.

“And if it were up to you, Momota, I would be a rookie for the rest of my life.” She keeps her eyes on the approaching forest, jostling the reigns. At the gesture, Kurohana speeds ahead, quickly catching up with the other guards. From behind her Kaito shouts something about how they’ll talk about this when everyone gets back, but she doesn’t care. This is her chance to prove herself. And then he’ll have to accept her position. She’ll make him.

The guards are their heels, easy to spot in the distance, as the thieving trio dashes through the woods. Doukeshi makes a quick left, and the sibling duo chases after. They don’t have too long until the guards catch up, and he knows it. “So, what exactly is the plan here?” The older sibling, Ayaka, asks, ushering her brother to hurry up. Korekiyo quits glancing behind them and catches up, but it’s clear the nerves didn’t leave him.

“Just follow me for a bit! We need to lose them for real,” Doukeshi replies, scanning the maple trees for a familiar mark—there it is. The gash he cut a day in advance. He makes a hard turn to the right, trading the small remains of a forest path for grass and ivy and dirt.

“What about the rendezvous point?” She demands. Ah yes, that. The thing that they decided on when they agreed to do this mission with him. The place they were planning to ambush him with a paid off team, take the crown, and run.

“Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Leave the negotiating to me, little brother,” Ayaka says, edge in her tone, and that’s all it takes to silence Korekiyo once more.

“Well you can go that way,” Doukeshi says. They can all hear the sound of horses and men getting louder. “If you want to get caught, that is.” Oh, he knows all about their plan. What kind of thief is stupid enough to trust his fellow thief? Especially when he’s the most wanted thief in the land, and there’s a sizeable bounty on his head if he’s turned in. He’s ripe for betrayal, and he knows it.

The small cliffside approaches. It’s time for his counter-plan. “Now, if you want to throw them off for long enough to get to safety, I’m going to need you two to help me up. Then I’ll help you up, easy peasy, we escape, sell this for a lot of cash, and you and I part ways never to speak of this again!”

Ayaka doesn’t say anything, just holds out her gloved hand. She’s not stupid enough to let him just run off with the reward. With a dramatic sigh, Doukeshi hands the satchel over, but to Korekiyo. “Think this looks better on him,” he snickers. Korekiyo seems vaguely amused behind the mask, but Ayaka merely glares.

Still, they form a makeshift lattice to scale the minor cliff, with only the grumbling from Ayaka. The last thing she wanted to do today was be the ladder for a childish thief. She grunts when he steps badly on her shoulder, but eventually Doukeshi makes it to the top. “Now help us up.”

But Doukeshi wears a smarmy grin, and winks behind his mask. In his hands is the satchel, that he knicked from Korekiyo on the way up. “Nishishi~ I’d love to, but can’t,” he says, and leaves them behind for the woods.

The endless sea of trees outside Shuuichi’s window looks the same as it ever does, with the wind lightly tousling the leaves. Even as he cleans the windowsill for the seventh time that morning, he wonders what it would be like to walk beneath them, instead of just staring, wishing for a reality that is not meant to be his.

What should he ask for, if not the lights? He could always go for new books, but his shelves are near to bursting, and there’s no more room in the tower to add any more. Maybe a book about the lights? But just thinking of that reminds him of what he isn’t allowed to see. It wouldn’t be the same to have a book explain away such a tangible mystery for him.

Exhaling, he sits on the window sill, feet dangling over the edge of the balcony. If he wanted to, he could wrap his hair around the hook, lower himself to the ground, and make a break for it. His aunt would never know. Except she would, as soon as she got back. He can’t leave. His life begins and ends here. “Or I guess, it doesn’t begin at all.”

Maybe he’ll just read one of the books again. It’s better than staring out at the forest lost in his dreams.

The woods are easy to get lost in, an endless expanse of verdant trees, all of them far too similar unless one is familiar with the land. Luckily, Maki knows the forest pretty well, unconcerned about anything except catching her prey when she split from the group. There’s a telltale sign of boots tracking in the mud, and she knows she’s on that thief’s tail. “Faster,” she says, and Kurohana speeds ahead. She’ll catch him. She has to.

But the footprints suddenly stop. Where did he go? If she judges solely by their absence, he must be here, but she can’t see him. There’s nothing but dirt and trees.

Clang. A small rock hits her chestplate from above, and high in the branches she sees a silhouette. Doukeshi. “Looking for me?” She growls, refusing to deign him with a response. He thinks that kind of petty behavior is a little adorable, in a pathetic way. “You really gonna leave such a sweet horse? What if I steal it?”

Maki shakes her head, petting Kurohana for a moment after dismounting. “She wouldn’t go with you if you did. I’ve trained her better than that.”

“Boooring. I wanted a horse too.” Doukeshi watches her from a far up branch. She’s pretty good at climbing, finding all the same footholds he did, and grabbing all the right branches. He didn’t expect her to be so fast with that armor, but if anything, that works out better for him. An impulsive guard is easy to trick. “But y’know I don’t have the crown anymore.”

At that she stops, gazing up at him with skeptical red eyes. “It’s true I don’t!” As he says that, he opens up the satchel, revealing that it’s empty. “I mean you could capture me, but you’d still be missing the most valuable item. My partners double-crossed me.”

Maki thinks it over for a minute, but continues climbing. “Capturing you is enough.” She’s just about to reach him.

Doukeshi laughs, loud and obnoxious, revealing the crown he stuffed under his jacket. “That’s a good call Guard-chan.” Just before she can snatch him, he takes the crown, stuffs it back in the bag, and tosses it so it snags onto a nearby tree branch. “I hope you’ve got monkey instincts then~”

“Bastard!”

He swings himself onto the nearby tree, grabs the satchel, and drops to the floor, leaving the guard still stuck in a tree behind him. There’s only so much she can handle in that armor. Clever as he is, he didn’t buy himself that much time, so he needs somewhere to hide and fast. Bolting through the undergrowth—he’s glad grass doesn’t leave tracks—he scans the nearby area, desperate to find something, anything. But there’s trees, trees, a rock, more trees, an ivy covered cave, trees—that’s it!

The dewey leaves brush past his skin as he runs through the vines, skidding to a stop in the cave. Holding his breath, he presses himself against the cave wall. She’s here. Against the vines is the silhouette of a person on a horse. ‘Go away, go away, go away’ he pleads silently, to himself. He’s almost free. A minute passes, and then she’s gone. Exhale. Relief floods his body.

Now, where is he? No longer in a rush, he wanders from the small cave to a grassy plain. And at the center of it all is—“whoa!”—a tower. It looms large over the field, even rivaling the height of some of the nearby trees. Who would hide a tower away in a place like this? But with the moss growing up the side of some of the stones, maybe it’s abandoned. It’s a good place to hide out for a while.

Fumbling around for the stakes in his pocket, he starts to climb.

There’s more noise coming from outside the tower than usual, Shuuichi thinks. It can’t be Tsumugi; she would just call for him. So, why does it sound like someone’s outside? And grunting? Leaving the book abandoned on the bed, he slips down the stairs into the main room, grabbing the frying pan from the cooking cabinet on the way past.

If someone’s coming for him, if someone’s found him—he needs to defend himself. But can he do it? Tsumugi is right; he’s totally unprepared for this! He’s never done this before! Is he even strong enough? What if he can’t knock them out? Or there’s too many to knock out? Or both? Oh he’s so screwed if he doesn’t do this right—

A man in a mask climbs over the windowsill. This is it. He doesn’t seem to see Shuuichi, because the first thing he does is peer into his bag. “Good. We’re safe.”

And then Shuuichi whacks him over the head with a frying pan, and Doukeshi is knocked right out.

#oumasaiweek #oumasai #saiouma #Ouma Kokichi #Saihara Shuuichi #ndrv3 #hope.txt #my fic #v3 Tangled AU #dangan ronpa #if its a nightmare for grammar its cause I haven't had the chance to have it proofread #I'll fix those later #when my editor is awake #but for now #I'm late #so here it is!

26 notes · View notes

blackleatherjacketz · 5 years

Text

Dirt and Ash: Chapter 6

Daryl Dixon x Original Female Character

Summary: Daryl can’t help but follow another hunter out in the woods after Rick and the Bridge, and their bond continues to grow.

Warnings: “Orange”, Deer Hunting, Kissing, Blood Drinking, Face Painting, Mentions of Simon, Thoughts of Merle, Daryl feeling Safe

Words: 1910

Tags: @annablack1102 @genevievedarcygranger @letsby @negansdirtygirl22

@mblaqgi @ivars-snowflake @rasa1945 @twdsunshine @onlydarylnormanfic

Read the rest of the story HERE

MASTERLIST

Angeni paid careful attention to Daryl’s body language as he followed her through the painful backwards memories toward her old home. It wasn’t long before she learned the sounds he made when he was tired, the look of disappointment that furrowed his brow, or the grimace that meant he was hungry. In turn she taught him the hand signals James had used over the years when he wanted her to stop, come, and go. They went on like that together for days, speaking a silent language all their own until they finally reached the outskirts of her cabin.

Daryl stopped as they approached a perimeter of walkers, all scattered at even points around the building in front of them. They were moving, but they were still; stuck in the ground as they reached out from their fixed points in space and time. He glanced at her and grunted, raising his bow before taking two of them out so they could pass through the threshold unharmed.

“We made these traps one summer.” She said as they passed by them, pointing to the holes she had dug in the ground a lifetime ago. “The spikes keep them in place long enough to get them in the morning, maybe longer.” She shrugged her shoulders and chopped off one of the walker’s feet, freeing it from the trap to make room for the next victim.

“Smart,” Daryl looked down at the trap as she tossed the foot behind her, inspecting it as he stepped over the body.

“Yeah, he was. I can’t take credit for everything,” she grinned, glancing up at the cabin before an unsightly message stole the smile right off her face.

COME OUT AND FACE ME, INJUN BITCH!

It was written in black spray paint, messily in a handwriting Daryl knew to be Simon’s. He had seen it on other places in the woods near Alexandria, and on the cabin Cyndie used to live in with her family. He knew he didn’t have to tell Angeni who had written it, but took a step back to give her time to process it anyway.

She pressed her lips together, the reality of the situation weighing heavily on her shoulders as she neglected the rest of the trapped walkers. Despite the vulgarity and danger of the message, it was clear to her that she made the right decision when she went into the forest that day. To think what would have happened if she had stayed, waiting up all night for Simon’s inevitable return until he caught her off guard, weak and afraid.

She shook the thought from her mind and stood up from the walker trap, heading toward her home.

“Hey, we don’t have to…” Daryl collected his arrows and put them back on his crossbow, slowly approaching her.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, timidly walking forward.

“It’s not.” He wiped his nose on the back of his arm and started walking, making sure to stay a few strides behind her.

She smiled and gripped her axe in one hand, twirling her knife in the other as she crouched down to approach the bullet-ridden structure. Creeping around the nearest window, she peeked in to notice that the cabinets had been completely demolished, a few pictures and chairs torn to shreds, but the wood-burning stove had at least been spared in the gunfire. Her mattress had been grazed by a few stray bullets, but it would do for the night if she decided to stay.

“See anythin’?” Daryl nearly snuck up on her, the string of his bow vibrating in the tense air as it waited to be released.

“No,” she exhaled, relaxing the grip on her weapons. “It’s clear.”

She glanced over at him as he studied the doorway, looking around the perimeter as he took out a few more trapped walkers. He reloaded his bow one more time before pausing and holding his breath, raising and lowering his aim. She watched as he squinted his eyes as if to make sure what he was looking at was real, forcing her to look in the same direction.

A deer. No,THE deer. The very same deer that brought them together, the one with the white spots in the shape of Michigan was standing just beyond the outside of her perimeter. It was calm, beautiful and wildly unaware of the demise of the undead just a few yards in front of it.

Angeni held her breath as Daryl followed suit, holding it until he finally exhaled just before he fired his shot. The arrow whisked through the air, the vibrating hum of the string no longer sounding as it flung the pointed spear into the animal’s head, barely making a thump as it hit the ground. ————————

Daryl shrugged the carcass off his shoulders and onto a table out back. Despite how small a cabin James had made for them in the past, he sure seemed to utilize the space around them to the best of his ability. There was a type of awning made of cowhide and tree branches, complete with a wooden rack for tools and weapons next to the table he stood in front of. Most of the tools had been taken, of course, but a few arrows and knives were left behind.

“Put her on her back,” Angeni instructed, grabbing a rope out of a bucket he didn’t even notice.

Daryl usually started hanging his deer upside down and draining them of blood right after he shot them, but he was in Angeni’s house now, and she seemed to know a thing or two that he didn’t. He grunted and instantly did as she told him, straightening the deer out before stepping back to let her do her work.

He watched her pray over the animal, reciting words and songs in a whispered tone as she waved her palms over its head, chest and legs. Her hair fell down past her shoulders as she leaned over their prey, brushing against its fur as she closed her eyes and twisted the rope around its ankles. She tied a few knots into the rope, tugging on it to ensure its strength before letting go and grabbing her knife with both hands.

Daryl slung his bow down across his back as he watched her, waiting to help her hang the deer onto the tree as her voice got louder, her song sounding more like a chant. To his surprise, she shoved her knife into the animal’s chest, ripping a jagged line in the flesh between its ribs as the blood spilled out the sides of her incision. Her knife struggled against the thick muscle of its chest, signaling just how long she had gone without eating a hearty meal.

Instead of hanging the deer up now as Daryl would have done, she reached her hands inside the animal, breaking ribs against her arms as she shoved their contents to the side. She dug deeper past the lungs and other organs as her braids and beads dipped into the scarlet lifeblood of the animal, dying her hair as she finally found what she was looking for.

A bright red heart stood before him, no longer beating but still bleeding out its last cycle of life before it ended completely. It was bigger than he thought, more time passing between his big kills than he’d care to admit. Those rabbits and squirrels of his past paled in comparison to this; this pound of flesh that lay silent in her hands as she lifted it up to eye level. Every vein and artery expanding and contracting, shrinking with each passing second as it dripped through her fingers and down her wrists while she presented it to him.

“It’s your kill,” she whispered up to him. “You drink.” To her this was sacred, to her this was an honor, to her this was… a gift, and the least he could do was honor that.

Daryl took a step forward and nodded, apprehensively cupping her hands as he met her half way. He felt the warmth of the blood as it spilled into his palms, the steadiness of her fingers as she finally decided to let go, and the gravity of her eyes as she watched him bring the heart up to his mouth.

He stared at her, his eyes locking onto hers as if to be sure this was what she wanted him to do. He’d heard of this before, an old hunting tradition Native Americans performed when they made their first kill, but he always chalked it up to Merle just messing with him. He brushed it off as another joke, another stupid dare his brother tried to get him to do, but now it had an entirely new meaning.

He wasted no time in spilling the blood over his lips and onto his tongue, noting how different it tasted from the blood he’d shed in fist fights before. It wasn’t nearly as salty, and certainly not as thin. No, this blood was hot, thick and rich with iron; delicious in its own way as it trickled down his throat and into his stomach, immediately perking him up.

“This deer is part of you now.” She closed the gap between them, her face calm and somber. “As you drink, you become one with it, become whole as it gives you the gift of life and leaves this world behind.” She took his hands in hers, wrapping her fingers around his knuckles as they slowly lowered the heart together.

Daryl swallowed a few more times, ensuring he took in enough blood to satisfy her ritual as the excess dripped down the sides of his chin. He let himself connect with her, vulnerably watching as her thumbs pressed in across his cheeks, smearing blood over his face well into his hairline.

“The Hunter,” she called him, bending down and mixing dirt into her fingertips. She stood back up and rubbed her hands together, coating his eyes and forehead in nature as he rested his eyelids for the very first time.

He was so tired. Tired of being strong. Tired of being smart. Tired of fighting other people’s fights. He was tired of being different, of being feared and misunderstood, of being the outlier that no one ever seemed to care or worry about.

He decided to let this moment settle in; a moment where he finally felt at peace, understood, even loved. He could feel her touching him, caressing him, caring for him, and made the conscious decision to push his face in against hers. He smeared the markings she’d adorned him with and painted her cheek a dark red as he held her face, pressing his lips into hers.

He’d never kissed anyone before, not intentionally anyways, except for a few drunken mishaps that almost always involved Merle and a whole bunch of goading. He wanted to save something like that for someone like her; someone who wasn’t ashamed of who she was or how she lived… someone who was like him.

He squeezed the deer’s heart in his other hand as it dripped onto the soil next to his boot, finally bleeding out into nothing as he pulled back and looked at her. Blood from his face had rubbed off here and there, giving her once menacing appearance a more scattered look as she smiled and twisted a lock of his hair.

“Let’s get dinner ready.”

#Daryl Dixon x OC #Daryl Dixon #The Walking Dead #Daryl Dixon Fan Fiction #Daryl Dixon fanfic #The Walking Dead Fan Fiction #The Walking Dead Fanfic #TWD #TWD Fanfic #Norman Reedus #Dirt and Ash

38 notes · View notes

things-we-used-tc-share · 5 years

Text

I just wanna set the world on fire

Warnings: Gun mention, violence mention, post-apocalyptic surroundings, cussing, alcohol, cigarettes, death mentions

Ships: Logicality, Prinxiety.

Plot: In a post-apocalyptic world, two brothers make strange acquaintances, one must live with the knowledge that one day his lover will not be able to consciously think, nor remember him.

((I’m trying something...very different with this one, sort of a Fallout 4 AU I guess? For those who aren’t familiar with the Fallout series, I’ll give a little back story before you read the fic. It’s based in a wasteland after nuclear bombs have been dropped and the remaining humans, and subsequent monsters created by the radiation, have to survive. Fallout 4, in particular, is based 200 years after the bombs have dropped in Boston))

((Edit, also: In the Fallout Universe they have things called Stimpaks that heal all health and Radaway which takes away the radiation, as these are mentioned.

As Patton is a Ghoul in this fic I should explain Ghouls are humans that have taken A Lot of radiation damage, resulting in skin scarring, either black eyes or very pale irises with the white parts red, and very gravelly voices, some Ghouls become feral early on in their lives, some manage to stay normal for the majority of their lives, but as far as I know eventually all Ghouls become feral canonically in Fallout lore so I thought it would make some good angst.))

((Edit 2: A sequel too this with a VERY angsty ending, which is alluded too in this fic, will be posted on A03, and if anyone wishes too read it please PM me for the link))

“I don’t even get why up here,” Patton sighs, closing the box of Stimpaks and setting them beside him as he sits cross-legged on the roof of the old gas station they had turned into their personal fortress. Logan pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and watches the sky turning red as the night approaches.

“It’s a nice view,” He replies with a shrug “Where are the others?” Patton shuffles closer and leans his head on the other man’s shoulder, pulling his spiked goggles off his head as he does.

“Roman’s checking the turrets, Virgil is putting out the fires for the night,” Logan nods and offered Patton the cigarette, which is politely declined the same way it always is. He usually replies with something along the lines of ‘I’m dying fast enough as it is Logan, without your cancer sticks’. Insinuating they were ever Logan’s in the first place, occasionally he’ll buy a pack, most of them are piliged off dead raiders. Patton didn’t want a dead man’s cigarette either.

“I wonder what it was like, before the war,” Patton hums quietly, the clattering of stairs makes them look up, Roman and Virgil smiled tiredly at the two, placing their weapons down next to the Stimpaks and sitting down next to Logan and Roman.

“Buildings were probably in one piece,” Logan says gently “The sky probably looked blue, instead of grey, green or red, people probably didn’t have to use Radaway every day,”

“I’ve seen pictures,” Virgil says softly “In some of the vaults, I saw pictures, they were black and white but, the roads were all together, not just muddy and cracked, the trees all had leaves, there were flowers and real vegetables,” He stares longingly out at the devastated world, he wonders if nature cried as much as humans must have the day the bombs dropped. “Children were children, probably, they were unlikely to have to learn how to use a gun before they were 5 years old, and animals were...different,” They look down from the roof to their dog, who was barking aimlessly at leaves. “Although dogs didn’t look different, there were smaller dogs though, I guess only certain breeds made it through, cos I only see big dogs,”

They’d found Dogmeat wandering around on his own and he didn’t seem to have an owner, so they (Patton) decided they all had a new pet. “People looked happier,” Virgil finally finishes, grabbing a beer off of Logan and cracking it open on their designated rock. “But it was people who ruined it all in the fucking end, greed, spite, and too much power bestowed in obnoxious leaders,”

Roman steals one of Logan’s cigarettes “Human arrogance, and I guess we’ve gotta pay for it, if we’re even human anymore really, most of us have got more radiation than DNA,” He looks exhausted, his hands full of oil and dirt, with scratches over his arms and face from the days work. He leans his head on Virgil’s shoulder and the younger presses a kiss atop his hair, before yawning.

“Ain’t gonna be fucking anything left of us, eventually, we’re all gonna be ghouls one day,” Ghouls, although initially human, were so damaged by the radiation that their brains begin to rot away, leaving them feral. At that point, there’s no choice left but to put a bullet in them. When the Sanders brothers, Logan and Roman, had found Virgil, he’d been fighting off seven of them at once. Roman had said he’d always known he’d fall in love with a sharpshooter.

Virgil took down all seven of them in under three minutes. Logan had been suitably impressed and asked the other if he would like to join them, strength in numbers after all. It took less than a week for him and Roman to become...whatever it was they were. They were all running on borrowed time, after all, it had come as no surprised to Logan when his brother had taken interest in the black-haired wildcat of a man. He was ferocious, deadly, good with a gun, and could put a bullet in an enemy two seconds before the enemy has even noticed he’s there.

Roman likes men that he knows could kill him, as it so appears.

It had come more of a surprise when Patton joined their little group, and he was running off even more borrowed time. Because Patton was not as Human as the rest of them.

The youngest was a Ghoul, a non-feral Ghoul, who they’d found in an abandoned house of an abandoned town, eating freshly cooked meat and purified water. Virgil had pointed a gun at him and the other had asked if he’d like some water.

For a Ghoul, he had a sense of humor and was hopelessly naive. He’d grown up alone from the age of 5, knew how to use a gun but preferred to just run away, and spent most of his time scavenging corpses for food. He was acutely aware that a day could come where he no longer had a brain and therefore tried to live as if he had nothing.

Then he met them. Virgil had been so shocked about been asked for water that he actually lowered the gun “I...what?” He asked, and Roman laughed. Logan raised his eyebrows and Patton held up the glass of water.

“I built a water purifier in the nearby lake, so I have a lot of water, as long as there’s rain!” Roman refused to stop laughing, but took the glass of water anyway. “I’m pretty good at building things, I find a lot of pre-war schematics in the places I uh...borrow from,”

“Can we keep him? Please?” The younger Sanders brother had begged his partner and brother, “Also this water actually tastes like water, not mud, guys please?” Logan drinks some of the water, walking around Patton with a concentrated stare.

“He’s a Ghoul,” Virgil finally fills in the silence, gesturing at him “Feral or not, he’s still a fuckin’ Ghoul,” Roman pouts and Logan waves his hand at the two of them before they start bickering like the old married couple they'd never see to be.

“We could do with someone who's good with mechanics,” Logan finally says “Roman’s useless at everything, and me and Virgil can’t make heads or tails of anything remotely requiring an engine, as much as I hate to admit, I think this Ghoul could actually be useful,” Patton blinks his pale white eyes, and beams. Roman cheers.

Humans weren’t fond of Ghouls, or really anything, not even other Humans most of the time. This wasteland had made everyone a fear, and outside the fortressed walls of the nearest city, the Commonwealth was not an easy place to try to survive. Virgil didn’t trust Patton at first, he’d snap at him a lot, Logan asked him to stop and sort his attitude out, but surprisingly Patton came to Virgil’s defense. “It’s alright,” He said, putting down his tools for a moment. “Humans are supposed to be scared of us, it’s instinct, it’s a natural reflex to us because we’re terrifying when we turn feral,” He sighs, “And one day it happens too us all yanno? One day one of you are going to have too...” He falls quiet “But anyway, it’s not his fault, he’s right to be scared of me, and I don’t expect kindness from Humans ever, I’ve spent most of my life dodging bullets and not firing at me is the most kindness I’d expect out of any of you,”

Logan goes very quiet and he thinks he sees Patton differently now, all Humans held a pre-conceived idea of Ghouls, that they lacked sentience. Patton didn’t lack sentience, nor compassion or empathy. He sat amongst people who he was convinced were afraid of or hated him, and created things for them to use and protect themselves knowing, in the long run, it might be the things they use against him one day. For once in his life, his heart twinged, and he had no idea how to respond.

Virgil eased up after that.

It came as even more of a surprise when Logan and Patton became more romantically involved, it was a long process, as the two of them could not have been more emotionally disconnected from the world in terms of romance if they tried. Logan had been the one to swallow his pride and admit it, despite his long history of refusing to do just that.

“I need to talk to you,” Patton, who had just finished building a turret for the third entrance too their settlement, hums in response and sets down his screwdriver, pulling his goggles up from his eyes and resting them atop his messy brown hair (That’d been another thing, Logan had never actually seen a Ghoul with hair before, it had intrigued him).

“What’s up, Lo?” The turret beside him sparks slightly, he hits it and it begins to whir into life, “Sorry, that’s better, what did you need?”

“I needed too...confess,” He’s stood rigidly still, scratching the back of his neck. “I appear to have... realized...” He trails off and coughs, trying to understand why it was so hard to form words in this situation. Patton raises his eyebrows. “Look, matters of the heart are not my forte,” Patton chuckles.

“I can see that, smoothskin,” Logan had initially, thought smoothskin to be an insult to Humans, but somehow when Patton says it, it sounds affectionate. “My eyes might be fucked, but I’m not actually blind,” Logan smiles despite it, but it quickly falls as Patton’s does “But, you do understand the...consequences of loving a Ghoul, right?” His face looks sad, even his eyes somehow, look haunted. “You do understand one day I’ll...I’ll turn feral?” Logan nods.

“I’ve considered this,” He says softly “But, the day will come one day no matter what, so why not make what’s left of our lives worth it?” Patton smiles and nods.

“Yeah, alright,”

Virgil had dropped his gun in surprise when he’d been told, Roman had been mid-drink of water and choked. Logan shrugged, and Patton patted the younger Sanders’ brother on the back to help ease his choking. Later, Roman and Logan would have a lengthy conversation on whether this was a good idea, although he simply adored Patton and all he created, “One day one of us are gonna have to put a bullet in him, do you understand that Logan?” He spoke frantically, running his hands over his face. “One day he’s going to turn Feral and there’s nothing we can do about that, the radiation is eating his brain,”

“We don’t know for sure Roman, the Rad-X and Radaway could be helping, and how is it any different from losing one of us to a gunshot? Every day, we risk our lives, but at the end of it we don’t just push each other away, would you give up Virgil if it was the same situation?” Roman falls silent.

“Of course not,”

“Exactly,”

So now, the four of them drink on top of the gas station, smoking a cigarette and drinking as if the world is always ending. Patton’s scrap pile of torn apart robots and cars glints in the setting sun, whilst the turrets whirred quietly in the deathly silence. Four men at the end of the world, whilst the radio with only one station crackles with music.

“I don’t wanna set the world on fire,

I just wanna start, a flame in your heart,”

@analogical-mess // @unikornavenger // @mycatshuman // @creativity-killed-thekitten //@theresneverenoughfandoms//@charmingprincey//@aclickonapostwillchangeyourlife//@heck-im-lost //@k9cat//@stilljittery//@romansleftshoulderpad //@sanderssideslibrary //@max-is-tired//@therealmoshar//@punsterterry//@trashypansexual // @miserykillme

Add yourself too my taglist: Sanders Sides/Thomas Sanders

Ko-Fi

#sanders sides #fanfic #fanfiction

42 notes · View notes

vixxscifiwritings · 5 years

Text

all fall down (1/?)

Summary - Eons ago, Wonshik had promised the gods that he would make hell rise and stars fall.

Tag List - @tomatoholmes @merlionmen @seraphistols @k-craze-97

-all parts coming soon-

Chapter 1 - all demons were angels once

The night grew older. The clouds moved, covering the moon and uncovering it in an erratic rhythm. The silver night filtered through the fir trees that lined the boundary of the graveyard, outside the stone wall. The wall stood ten metres high but was dwarfed by the height of the centuries old trees. The branches rustled under the wind and the crickets buzzed.

“It’s not too late. We can still turn back” one man begged another, tugging on the second’s sleeves in an attempt to pull him back.

“You fool!” the second spat, pulling his arm free. “When else would we get a chance like this again?”

“You are a greater fool for not heeding the priest’s warnings!” the first man cried. “The graveyard is cursed. Cursed, I tell you!”

“Bah! Tall tales. The rich made those up to protect their graves. Use your head boy!”

“Even the rich avoid this graveyard. No one stays near it and no one has been buried in it for centuries. I am begging you, please. We will find another way to save your sister. There is nothing to be gained from going in. No one who ever went in, returned alive” the younger of the two insisted.

“Because they stole the money for themselves and didn’t wish to share. I will not be the same” the first said. The conviction in his voice could rival the religious fanaticism of the priest’s followers and the second saw that reasoning was a lost cause.

“I cannot follow you down this path” he said, growing silent. The first was a mad man. Mad!

The temple bells rang in the distance. The first turned south to see the hazy glow of the lights in the village. The sacrifices to the Moon Goddess had begun. Perhaps if they hadn’t come so far out they would have heard the chanting too.

“Return to the festival if you must” the first said. “But don’t come grovelling to me when I am rich and powerful.”

“I shall pray to the Goddess that you return alive” the second said before retreating. The first glared at his back as he walked down the road and finally broke into a run. The second gong sounded, disturbing the quiet that had begun to settle in like light from the windows displacing the dust on the floor.

He was wasting precious time.

One of the trees looked denser than the rest, he noted. The branches grew on the lower bark and if he stretched enough, he could hoist himself onto the lowest branch and then climb up high enough to jump the wall.

His hand went up to the amulet resting around his neck subconsciously. It better work, he thought angrily. He had paid more than what was needed for a flimsy pendant on a thread.

He hoisted himself up onto the branch. It had been easier than thought. The movement disturbed the birds resting on nests in the lower branches. There was raucous crowing and squawking as they flew from the tree, disturbed by the intrusion.

The third gong sounded as the man reached a height enough to see the end of the wall. Spikes, he noted as he saw the glittering metal on top of stone. Was it silver? Bloody rich bastards, he spat, hoisting himself up on the tree to get a look beyond the wall.

It was dark but the wind grew stronger. It was never this stormy on the night of the ritual sacrifices. The priests had warned that omens foretold a great evil would descend on them soon. That was why the townsfolk had agreed to a grand sacrifice. An effort to appease the Goddess and call on her for protection.

What was the point of this protection when innocent people like his sister were dropping dead due to the plague that had gripped the kingdom?

No, she wouldn’t die. Upon his soul, she would live to see many sunrises.

He looked to the dome of the Temple, visible in the distance. It glowed golden, lit up for the sacrifice.

The clouds shifted and moonlight illuminated the ground. The area beyond the wall was still dark but he could make out flowering bushes lining the other side. The bushes would cushion his fall. He unwrapped the rope he had tied around his waist and tied it to one of the spikes. It was shorter than he liked, but it would do if he had the bushes to jump on.

He stood on top of the wall, rope secured and peering into the darkness that waited to swallow him. Perhaps he was mad but desperate times called for desperate measures. The fourth gong sounded. It was now or never.

He jumped, using his legs to push against the wall periodically and rappelled down. The rope tightened and his fall stopped as he was still five metres above the ground. He could risk a jump, the man decided, his ropes cutting painfully into his back from the force of his own weight. He tugged on the rope and the loose knot securing it around the spike loosened. A few more tugs and it gave way entirely, letting him go into free fall.

He grunted as he landed in the bushes. There were scratches from stray thorns but it didn’t feel like he had broken any limbs. A good thing, he supposed for now that he had gotten in, he also needed to get out and reach the village by sunrise. He pulled himself out of the bushes, the fabric of his clothing ripping when he tugged too hard against the bush. He stumbled but stopped himself from falling on the ground, closing his eyes and bracing himself in case of impact anyways.

“May the Goddess have mercy” he gasped, when his eyes opened and he saw nothing. There was a strong haze where there had been bushes earlier and that prevented any light from reaching the ground. The moonlight was also missing, rendering him blind. He stretched his hand out but felt nothing apart from the chill in the breeze.

It wasn’t a point to worry about. The wind would clear the haze eventually. Fogs always cleared within hours of accumulating in the large commons around the city. The graveyard would be the same. The wall meant nothing.

Something cold tickled his hand and he snapped from his reverie. He pulled his dagger out, his free hand on the amulet around his neck. He would be safe. He didn’t have to worry about anything as long as he had this pendant. And he had business to get on with. No time for whims and fancies of hearsay and old wives tales.

He chose a direction and started walking. There was no sound in the graveyard. The hue and cry of the festival had been muffled by the black haze. It amplified the sound of his heartbeat and that was unsettling. He thought he heard something to his left and his footsteps sped up in the other direction. He broke into a cold sweat and realized he had started to run. To where? He did not know.

He tripped and came face to face with cold granite. He cried in pain as the edge had cut into his right thigh. He pushed himself up, crawling on the floor and hauling his body onto the granite surface. Whatever had been in the haze was no longer around, if he went by the eerie silence that had returned.

As he crawled forward and try to lay down, his head touched a large block of stone. More granite? No, it felt much smoother. Green marble. Or was it jade? He laughed in agony, black flecks swimming in his field of vision. Those bloody rich bastards did have valuables hidden up here after all.

He propped himself against the stone and once his leg stopped throbbing, he got up. His vision cleared up and so did the haze, to reveal a large statue. The stone had formed part of the foundation for the statue of a large angel. A beautiful woman whose hand extended down as if calling the onlooker to hold it and the other pointed the opposite way.

The man hesitated, trying to catch a glimpse of the direction she had been pointing in. His eyes tricked him as the reflections in the distance danced the way stars would twinkle on clear nights. Water? Perhaps a pool or a fountain?

Closer inspection revealed that there was a lot of water spread about. It was a shallow pool set in the floor. In the distance there was a set of stones. It looked like a walkway across the pool.

The man looked around. It seemed like the walkway was his best bet to proceed. The statue was too heavy to steal, but an ornately decorated grave would perhaps be easier to chip gems off. If the statue and the dark marble were anything to go by, the grave would be decorated with gemstones too.

This display of opulence was filthy, the man said out loud with disgust as he passed a column of statues set every fifteen paces in the pool. The rich even died comfortably as the poor starved to death on the streets.

The walkway gave way to steps that went up and he walked. How long had he been walking? Had all the seven gongs rung? Why wasn’t this haze clearing up?

The steps stopped and gave way to a flat platform. The man walked on. He felt a shiver as he stepped on it as if someone had just dunked him into a cold pool on a winter morning. The haze cleared up immediately and his eyes lit up.

In front of him lay a structure resembling a closed casket. It was carved purely out of one large dark marble stone and surrounded by stone statues of cherubic angel spirits, each wing engraved with a glittering gemstone of different colour.

The man rushed forward. The gemstones glittered in the moonlight and he didn’t know their names but he knew that the town pawn shop would pay handsomely for them. He chipped at the stone wings but the gemstone didn’t budge. He wedged his dagger into the edge of the carving and kicked the handle, causing the stone to fall loose.

In the distance, a raven crowed. He didn’t care for the foolish bird. If the rest of the gemstones were as easy to remove as this one had been, he would be a very rich man indeed. He looked around, trying to decide which stone to target next when he noticed a flower on top of the casket.

A single rose. It looked fresh. So someone had visited the grave recently, he thought taking the rose in his hands. He had been right all along. A grave like this with no attendants around. It seemed natural that the rumours had only been created to keep other people out while minimizing the need for guards.

He tossed the rose aside and decided to carve out the stone from the angel that rested at what looked like the head of the stone casket. He put one knee on top of the casket and pulled himself up so that he could sit on it while he carved the gem out. This was red in colour unlike the blue one he had just removed.

Funny, he thought since he could have sworn a minute ago that all of them had looked blue. Perhaps he had been mistaken in the darkness. This one was crimson. The colour of blood. The pawn shop would pay handsomely indeed. Nay, he would take it to the jewellers or bait some rich lord into paying him more. His sister would live a life of comfort once she recovered.

The earth below him rumbled. Caught unaware, he fell down, crashing into one of the cherub statues. His should cracked and he knew instantly that it had either been dislocated or broken. His dagger fell out of his hand as the earth shook again.

He clutched the gemstone close to the amulet and his chest and began to chant. The earth rumbled for a third time and there was a blinding light. The man yelled when he felt something solid and heavy hit him, crushing his lower body in an instant. He sobbed and wailed, trying to move but there was no use as the solid body crushed him and held him in place, slowly snuffing the life out of his legs.

When the light dimmed, he saw the black granite of the casket and cried. The top half had been upended and he feared the force that had done it. He chanted the verses the Temple had taught him as a child but he could tell it was of no use as a dark figure loomed, getting closer by the heartbeat.

The blood rushed to his head and he watched mutely as it took shape. A man. Large silver wings. They flapped as he bent down and picked something up. The rose. The figure turned and the man yelled again. Its eyes gleamed golden and his long silvered hair gave him the appearance of an angel, similar to the large columnar ones all around the casket.

All demons had been angels before they had been banished by the gods for their wrong doings.

The man cried, begging for mercy and salvation of his soul. It didn’t take a genius to put together what he had done. His greed had led him to his death. And his death stood over him, examining his face with his foot tilting his chin up.

He sent a prayer to the heavens for his sister. The demon smiled before putting his foot on his chest and crushing the gem, the amulet and his heart in one fell swoop.

-End-

Next >>

#vixx fanfiction #vixx ravi #demons au

18 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 5 years

Text

Frank - Francis Prompt Request

Tags –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @c-s-stars, @greendragonette

…

greendragonette asked:

May I have a request with: “Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.” and “What does not kill you will likely try again.”? :3 Thank you for your fics, I really enjoy the fluff! <3

…

Limping towards a small field just outside the line of trees you had just come from your eyes focused on the large figure you had assumed was a tree. The lead on your floor Francis in his usual crossed arm stance with that same stern gaze that could do nothing to shatter the effect those stunningly blue eyes had on you. Those alone left you weak and the voice following it, when making itself heard, could leave you wishing you could just melt into a puddle and slide away somewhere safer from his teasing growl lingering at the end of each order he gave to you. After your first couple weeks his words had cut down drastically but that gaze lingered still as you fell into the proper pattern and was among the few not needing his constant instruction.

Your knees nearly buckled at that single brow twitch up each of your painfully steamy dreams he starred in almost nightly. As you neared him the words from his latest starring role echoed in your mind in a deep growl from above you as you were resting on your knees with his hand in your hair, “I wish you wouldn’t beg for forgiveness, it has the opposite effect of what you want. You beg and beg, but that look in your eyes deceives you. Just ask for the punishment you desire.” With parted lips his answer went unheard at the chiming of your alarm leaving only another flicker of a second with you peering up at that stern expression and the impatient raised brow demanding a response with clenching fingers ready to enforce it.

In a growl he asked, “Just what are you doing out here?”

Blinking up at him you glanced over his shoulder at the crowded building your company set up a party for its annual celebration of something they never really named or explained to anyone, but hey, free food and drinks. “Um, just enjoying the night air.”

“Hmm.” Lowering his gaze he spotted each snag, tear, leaf and twig trapped in your disheveled appearance, “Alone?”

You nodded, “Who else would I be with?”

Blinking at you he wet his lips unknowing of what that simple action did to you before his arms broke apart and his hand reached out to draw a twig from your hair he carefully removed then tossed it away as he noticed the scratch on your cheek. “Climbing trees in the dark isn’t really safe.”

“Technically I wasn’t climbing the trees.”

His brow rose again as his head tilted slightly silently demanding an explanation, “Meaning?”

“I thought I could do parkour,” his chin lowered in disbelief, “nay, believed, but my faith is weak,” unable to help it he let out a flicker of a smirk against his will as you struggled against the urge to squeak at the inch closer to a smile you had drawn from the serious giant, “and my body weaker.”

Rolling his eyes he turned to take your side saying, “You’re so weird.”

In a soft giggle you replied, “You have no idea.”

Peering down at you he caught your jump closer to his side at the tree branch on the tree you had tried to grab and steady yourself finally dropped to the ground after the clean break in half it formerly had. “I take it that’s the tree you climbed?”

“Yes.” You gave a shrug, “Figures. What does not kill you will likely try again.”

With another twitch of his brow he asked, “I doubt your life has been in danger tonight.”

With a giggle you replied, “Eh. I suppose it shouldn’t matter anyway. Never take life seriously. No one comes out alive anyway.”

After another glance at you he replied, “Well, try not to die before Monday. The quarterly project is due and I need at least one person who can help me manage this properly.”

You chuckled softly under your breath, “Don’t worry, I’ll just get some sleep then.” In a glance up you caught his looking around for the soft meow he had heard.

“It’s late, and with this interest in parkoor of yours I’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home.”

“I’m not living nearby.”

He glanced down at you after another glance around for the last meow, “You’ve been living on my block for over a year now.”

“I was.”

“Where’d you move to?”

“My van.”

“What?!”

“The landlord wanted to turn the house into a b&b.”

“You’ll move into mine then.” You looked up at him, “I’ve got dozens of spare rooms.” His head turned again as he mumbled, “Are you hearing that?”

“I can’t just move into your place. You don’t even know me. I could kill you or something.”

Looking at you his brow rose again as he struggled against his smirk, “Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit. We work together and you’ve yet to kill me even after my harshest lectures. Besides I refuse to let you go homeless for some asshole’s selfish daydream for more profit. Do you not hear that?” His eyes lowered at the shifting bundle inside your jacket then to your eyes again as you flashed a nervous smile.

Pulling the small fluffy kitten from your jacket you said, “I found this cat.” His brow twitched again, “It doesn’t matter how exactly I found it, but we’re keeping it.”

“Oh, we’re keeping it now?”

You nodded, “Well you’re taking me home with you, and I’m keeping him, so, yup we have a kitten.” A smirk eased onto his face as he shook his head, rolling his eyes and looking forward again. In the parking lot of the building he joined you in your van for the short drive to his home where you parked beside his van and he helped you bring all your clothes and few boxes of books into the spare room you were going to bring the rest of your belongings and bed from your storage. Wetting his lips he walked into your bathroom holding the litter box and cat litter box he set up beside the tub saying, “You’re lucky my Grandmother had cats. Meant to toss these a while back. It’ll due till you can buy a replacement.”

“Thank you.”

His eyes lowered to the kitten crawling inside to use it as soon as it was set down before he said, “You can stay in mine.”

“I’m not putting you out of your bed.”

“It’s just for a night. The couch isn’t that bad.”

“Then I’ll sleep there.” His lips parted only to shut as you continued, “I’m not putting you out, even for a night, so I don’t care where I sleep, as long as it’s with you.”

Looking at you he exhaled recognizing that look you got when you refused to let something go, and turned to head to his room stating, “I’m going to change.”

You nodded and turned to your bags to do the same hearing the sounds of fabric shifting along with drawers opening and closing while you adjusted your pajama pants and tank top then walked through the hall when his room had fallen silent. When he say you in the doorway he said on his path to bed, “You can sleep by the windows.”

With another soft giggle you stated, “So sweet, claiming the protective spot.”

“Protective spot?”

“Sleeping by the door to possibly fight off an intruder.”

He rolled his eyes, “This half of the bed is harder and under the vents. Heat shuts off near midnight and it blasts cold.”

“Hmm, excuses excuses.” He sighed sliding into bed and shut off the light leaving you both in the moonlit room only to turn his head watching as you shifted over his arm draping over his side, “So you can’t sneak away. I know that look, same one you use to get away from those meetings with Hensen you keep having to ‘file’ through as Kelley gets dragged in instead.”

“If you had to listen to his thoughtless banter you’d avoid it too.” Turning his head he spotted the kitten climbing the blanket before walking up to curl up around the top of his head on the pillow.

In a giggle you stated, “I think I’ll call him Frank.”

“Frank?” His eyes met yours as you felt his heart rate spike, not in anger but at the few inches between you, “He likes you already. And you’ve both got those bright blue eyes.”

Laying your head on his shoulder his arm inched closer to your back nearing a stolen chance to hold you against him, “As long as it’s not chosen for him in my expense. He will be expected to earn his keep. Hunt for what he can.”

“We are going to feed him.”

“I never suggested otherwise. He will learn to hunt none the less.”

“He’s barely weaned looks like.”

Your heads turned to lock eyes as he replied, “He will still learn to hunt or he will be rehoused.”

With a sigh you replied, “As a roommate I will give you heaven, but I will give you hell if you try to take Frank away from me.”

“Hmm.” Stealing another glance at you he watched you yawn and curl up gripping across his middle tighter as you fell asleep freeing him to hold you to him while Frank settled around his head when he laid it down again.

In the morning an assumed awkward waking was skipped as a turn of his head caused his lips to meet yours soon growing into a deepening kiss his body shifted to lean more over yours only to break apart at the scratchy tongue swiping along his nose. With a giggle you stated, “See? He likes you.”

Looking over your face he shifted his hand to pull your leg more over yours as he rumbled, “Last night you mentioned something.”

“Mhmm?”

“Mentioned something about giving me hell. Now heaven, you’ve made work heaven since you came, but I highly doubt you could ever come close to giving me anything close to hell.” As you playfully glared at him he closed the distance silencing your muffled retort with another kiss lingering until little Frank cried out for breakfast.

In the kitchen he eyed the small kitten that ignored the wild ferret on the other side of the glass paned door earning a displeased furrowed brow while his arms crossed. The gentle swat your hand landed on his arm drew his eyes to yours with a softening expression, “He’s a kitten. He doesn’t have to be a born killer right out of the womb. He’s got food.”

Peering down at Frank Francis mumbled, “Pitiful. But fine, I will give him time.” His eyes meeting yours in a playfully challenging glance before stealing a kiss and saying, “I’ll make breakfast.”

Playfully you asked, “Did you kill it?”

With a smirk he replied, “Veggies are from the greenhouse, the eggs are from the chickens in the coop behind that leaving the sausage from the store. If I had more time I’d have raised those and made that myself.” Pointing and looking at Frank who happily meowed as he licked his face after eating, “You have a month to hunt something.”

You rolled your eyes and followed the stern giant with Frank trotting happily behind you both exploring his new home, “You are unbelievable.”

A few days later Francis sat on the couch reading his latest novel as you walked in with Frank tucked in your arm and crossed straight to him setting him on the couch only to watch him return to his usual perch on Francis’ shoulder. In a glance at the kitten he raised a brow at the small tie matching his usual one Francis wore nearly every day before he looked at you again, “You bought him a tie?”

With a playful smirk you replied, “It’s adorable and you know it.”

He nodded and glanced at the door when the bell rang signaling the arrival of the ac repair man leaving you to claim Frank and go to start dinner while he dealt with the hassle of repairs. Finally when it was done he joined you and paused in his move to help with setting the table to ask, “What happened?”

Turning to lean against the counter you locked your eyes with his saying, “You’ll be pleased to know Frank chased and ate a lizard.”

An impressed smile spread on his face, “I am pleased.” Walking over to you he kissed your cheek and purred, “We could even get him that matching vest you picked now if you like.” Your bottom lip tucked into your mouth earning a chuckle from him, “You bought it already?”

With a slight squeak in your voice you replied, “He kept rubbing his face on it.”

Smirking at you he claimed another kiss saying, “Fine, we’ll look at the cat trees they have, unless you bought him one of those as well?” Playfully smirking as he took some of the food to the table while you followed behind him with the rest.

“No, he’s still a bit scared of the heights. Doesn’t feel safe unless it’s your shoulder.”

He smirked at you as you turned to collect your drinks while he snuck a piece of his chicken to the kitten he set on his usual lounging spot on the empty chair beside him as he pulled yours closer to his easing his task of stealing another kiss when you claimed your seat for the meal before his growing smile as you both watched little Frank perk up as a bird landed on the other side of the glass paned door urging his hop down and creep over to stare at the bird letting out far from intimidating clicking noises. Each second making Francis more pleased at the little kitten taking after his instincts were finally kicking in, clearly earning him several more treats and rewards as he progressed with even more outfits that would draw out your smile even more with each one.

#Francis x Reader OC

27 notes · View notes

ravens-rambling · 6 years

Text

“Prove it”

A/N: I’ve actually had this written up a while ago but kept forgetting to edit it out but I finally got some spare time today and decided to get this done! You have no idea how much fun this au is to write its ridiculous. BUT in any case here’s our adorable pappy and lo-lo meeting our slightly ambitious but adorable all the same princey!!

I’m thinking of writing how they met Virgil and then Thomas after that? And I already know how Deceit’s gonna play into all of this and I really want to write their backstories cause yes I thought that far ahead this Au isn’t destroying my life nah what are you talking about!!!!!!

Here you go anon!! I hope you like it! And I’m having a good night thank you! Love you too sweetie!! Hope you're having a good day/night as well!!

Prompt 33- “Prove it” from dialogue prompts which is still open!!!

Based off of this post from @yourhappypappypatton

summary: All Logan wants to be is loved, for all his life he’s experienced hatred and fear for what he is. Luckily fate has changed for him as he met a certain vampire a few years back. But during one winters night, he met a unexpected and rather loud creature that sent certain feelings through him. Does this boy harbor same feelings towards him or does he run away like all previous humans before him? Only time will tell...

WC: 4,352

ships: Romantic Logince, Platonic Logicality

warnings: Blood, Body horror, mentions of bone, feelings of fear, pinned down, uuhhhh i think thats it??

Tag List: @punsterterry @frostedlover (Since you two wanted to be tagged in this au!) @fandydandyfanders @221b-quote

It was a late winters night when the two monster family members became three.

The wind was howling against the tall leafless trees beating against the walls surrounding him. The snow was piling as he tried to walk through it with some luck. His cape battered and thrashed against the wind and snow but still, he continued on. He might have had a major breakthrough in his current experiment and he wasn't going to let any snow stop him, it wasn't like it could affect him or anything anyways.

Though at the thought of a certain vampire being upset with him made him gulp.

When Patton gets angry it's not pretty that's for sure. And he always hated it when Logan leaves in the middle of the night without telling him.

But he couldn't wait for him to come home! He had to get to his library now! Course he could..whats the word.. 'call' him on his...'phone'? Was he right on that? He wasn't sure. The curses thing won't start up for him. He wasn't sure what buttons to hit or even what to do. Patton had shown him how to turn it on and how to work it but it was awkward and honestly, he had more important things to concentrate and remember then how to work the blasted thing. He's busy with more pressing matters then that at the moment. So instead he left it at home and would face with the consequences later on.

Maybe he could even get back home, (when did he start calling it that?) more like Patton's place, in time before Patton gets back? And nobody would be the wiser.

A prick of irritation was in his mind as he recalled how overprotective Patton can be. It was strange to him having somebody around after over 200 years of solitude.

But at the same time..nice?

Sure Patton can be overbearing and overwhelming at times in his niceness and cheeriness but..he was the only person who didn't run away at seeing him those few years ago. Every single human he came across, even the supernatural ones, always ran away from him with terror in their eyes shouting at him on how much he's a freak and should be burned. Course he learned, later on, thanks to Patton, that he appeared more scary and frightening cause of his rotting flesh. With help from Patton he learned that he could replace those limbs and according to the vampire he looked less scary, more like a human, which made Logan smile at the time. But back then he didn't know that, he didn't even think about that, and the words of those horrified strangers hurt him so much so that he locked himself away to his books and experiments for centuries.

But Patton? He didn't even flinch at his sight. He only smiled when he first saw him. Even gave him a hug! The first physical contact he's ever had if he had to be honest. It was..nice.

It was nice having him he soon came to realize.

It was nice having somebody to talk to.

Now he came to realize why some of his books on the mental state of mind said to interact with people cause now he seemed happier, or at least Patton says that he acts happier even if he himself can't really tell the difference since he's never really been happy.

But putting all that aside he took a deep breath as he arrived at his library feeling the certain familiarness draft over him causing his small smile to grow wider. Being in his library sent a certain peace to him that no other place has. Though at the same time a dread.

In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think if maybe Patton was some dream that his brain played on him. Maybe when he gets back to his place he won't know who he was. He would scream and throw things at him, just like those people. And he would be forced to go back to his lonely life once again. That this place would be his prison once again.

No.. He can't give in to his negative thoughts. He's just being illogical now and there is no time for that, the back of his mind told him. No Patton would be there as always to greet him with a hug or at the very least a smile. He won't be alone again.

As he walked through the large door though he stopped in his tracks there was something in the shadows, he could feel it. And as he lowered his breath to the bare minimum he could hear something breathing. It was a heavy almost gasping for breath. At first, he thought it was a bear, he's come across those from time to time around or even in his place, it won't be the first time.

But as he listened closely he could hear that it sounded almost..human like but at the same time wolf-like? He stalked forward keeping close to the walls and making as little to no noise as possible to not spook the creature.

As he got closer to the breathing he could make out a solid form in the darkness. It wasn't a wolf that's for sure.

It stood on two legs and it looked almost human-like. But there was something about the way that it was breathing that really did make it seem wolf-like. Whatever the case he had to get it out of his library his books and experiments is at risk if he lets it run rabit.

If it was a human maybe he could scare it off like all the other humans he met. With that in mind, he got closer to it before stopping.

He smelled...was that blood? He hasn't smelled a lot of blood over the years so he must have forgotten what it smelled like but he was certain of that irony tang that it was blood. Maybe the human was hurt? Whatever that didn't concern him.

"Whoever you are leave before I make you." His voice was rugged, even after befriending Patton after years upon years of not using his voice he knew his voice would always sound like that.

The creature harshly turned around his beady eyes glowing through the darkness. Logan gulped, this wasn't any normal human that was for sure. Those eyes were..animalistic.

A sudden feeling spiked through him, a feeling he didn't understand before suddenly he felt his back hit the solid ground harshly. His breath got knocked out of his new lungs as he tried to pull the creature away from him. Now that it was closer he could see its large fangs, could see the fur covering its body, and could see that its face was wolf-like even to the pointy ears. And finally, it's large claws was holding him down and digging into his flesh.

Thankfully he couldn't feel it for if he did he knew he would be crying out in pain by now.

Normally he won't have any emotions, or it would be a prick of emotion here and there, but right here and now he felt..fear. That's what it was. True fear for the first time of his life. Not just normal fear either, fear that he was going to die.

He wasn't scared of death. How could he? Being an immortal being that was created by body parts with really only one weakness, his heart, he didn't think much about death.

But underneath this creature, he truly thought he was going to die. He was terrified that the last thing he was going to see was the fangs of this creature as it rips his chest open and digs into his beating heart.

No, he had something to live for. He had Patton and though it had recently occurred to him, he truly did care for him even if he doesn't show it. He thought of him as a great friend, one that he would put his life in the line for.

With a burst of strength, he didn't know he processed he pushed the large creature off of him and before the furry creature could stand up he started to run to his experiments. He knew he had something that could work against it right? He had to.

But just as he was about to run down the hallway he heard a creak of a door opening and a voice, a very familiar voice.

"Lo! I told you to tell me when you come to your library! You gave me a heart attack when I came home and you weren't there! And you must have come out here in the snow my gosh what-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as the creature lunged at Patton.

As Logan turned around he saw claws and fangs digging into Patton's precious flesh. He heard Patton's screams as he tried to wiggle away, as he tried to fight back. Something in him snapped as he saw Patton's precious blood go flying through the air.

But before he could even move his body the vampire let out a loud, rumbling, scream that seemed to shake the very ground beneath him that caused Logan to freeze in place and he could have sworn the creature as well.

Before either one of them could react Patton gripped the creature so tightly that his knuckles were white and with one throw he threw the creature against the far wall right next to Logan. He expected the creature to stand back up but as he glanced over his eyes wide with horror and fear he saw that the creature didn't stand up again. Rather he hit the wall so hard that there was a large crack going towards the ceiling.

And Logan had only a moment's warning before the ceiling collapsed on the creature, luckily getting out of the way just in time. There was no way the creature could have survived that..right?

His wide eyes whipped towards Patton who was now breathing heavily and getting to his feet. There was blood dripping from his arms and torso but that didn't cause Logan alarm. What did was the fact that Patton's eyes were glowing red. Something he's never seen before and he could have sworn that even in pure darkness he could see that red piercing through. And what made Logan even more scared was the pure murderous glare that was nestled in those red eyes.

He was honestly scared now of Patton.

Gulping he mumbled quietly, "P-Pat?" He winced as his fearful voice echoed through the large room.

Patton turned towards him still breathing heavily though at seeing Logan's terrified gaze his own eyes went wide.

Realization dawned on the vampire as he slowly calmed down taking deep breaths. Those red eyes went back to his normal blue ones with the more breaths he took. That murderous gaze quickly went away replaced by his normal cheeriness. Soon he looked like his normal happy Patton giving him a wide smile as he hopped towards him as if nothing happened.

"Well, now that was certainly something Huh! I am bone tired now I don't know about you!"

Logan was...dumbfounded. Patton had that much strength hiding in the happy facade he always had up. Were vampires normally this powerful? He never got to know.

He still was scared of Patton if he had to be honest and took a step away from him as he came to his side which earned a heartbreaking look from the other.

"Lo? You're okay?"

"I...um..y-yeah... I just um..let me go check on my experiments...Make sure it doesn't wake up alright?"

Patton gave a slow nod as he tried to not run away. He had to scramble away some of the rocks in his path but luckily it didn't take long before he was in his room. Luckily nothing happened in this room, he didn't care about the entrance anyways. As soon as he saw that he drew a shaky breath and collapsed to his chair.

That was...terrifying. That was the most emotions he has felt in..ever actually.

And in those emotions was now fear of his only friend. He didn't know Patton could do that. But why was he scared? It was Patton for Pete sake! Patton who was always cheerful and was never scared of him so why should he be scared of him. There was no reason to be. Sure he posses some..scary qualities but he does as well. They were supernatural beings there is going to be scary parts to them but that doesn't rule them out as automatically terrifying and scary as he should know out of anyone.

Those thoughts rattled around in his brain as he tried to take shaky breaths to calm down.

Finally, he stood up bottling up all those pesky emotions one by one and started heading back. The creature should be dealt with properly before it wakes up. This is no time for emotions he could go through them later if he has to.

But as he entered the large room once again he did a double take. The large rocks were now pulled away from the creature exposing that the creature was..now a human? He didn't have any fur or well clothes for that matter now.

He turned towards Patton who had a mix of uncharastically disgust and relief.

Logan hesitantly unclipped his cloak and slowly went over to drape it over the unconscious boy's body noticing the now bloodied leg the wound looked weird he had to say. It looked almost like a pitchfork went through it but it was just a singular wound. He wondered what happened to this stranger. But he didn't want to touch it in fear of him waking up. Instead, he went over to Patton's side who was sitting down on the floor still glaring at the boy.

"Do you know this creature?" He noticed even his voice is a bit too stiff.

Patton glanced over to him his expression softening for a moment before breathing out a heavy sigh, "Yeah... He's a werewolf."

"A werewolf? I've read of those before but I thought it was folklore something to scare innocence."

Patton smile a bit, "Well most would say that about vampires and Frankestines monster right?"

"I..suppose so."

Silence engulfed the two Logan wasn't sure what to say now to bring back the normal Patton as he was uncharastically silent and still glaring at the boy. Questions were zooming through his mind but he wasn't sure if he should ask them in fear of upsetting Patton even further. He maybe should ask him them later once he fully calms down. But he knew he had to do something, this was becoming unbearable, to break the said silence he leaned forward and pointed at his wounds.

"Your bleeding. Are you going to be okay?"

Patton breathed out a small part of his normal smile returning, "Oh yeah I will be I'll just need more blood soon..unfortunately..." He glanced over to Logan finally before gasping and drawing closer, "Lo! Your bleeding too! And you just got a new torso... Will you be alright?" It was like he just noticed it...

"Oh yes, I don't need blood to function remember? I will need to get a new torso soon though losing this much blood won't be good for it. And new arms... It'll start to stink soon."

Patton giggled slightly, "We don't want that now. I'm glad your alright though Lo. I was scared that it hurt you."

The edge of Logan's mouth twitched upwards, "I'm glad your alright too. I've come to realize, as it was holding you down, that um... I do like your company, Patton. It is rather nice and I would be...sad if you were to disappear. Or sorry..die?"

"Aaawwww!" Patton had stars in his eyes as he looked up at him drawing his hands close to his chin. "Lo! That's the nicest thing you've said to me! Your my hero you know that?"

Before Logan could even open his mouth Patton surged forward and gave him a hug sucking the breath from him. Always, every single time Patton gives him a hug, he always freezes unsure how to handle it or how hugs worked.

As he was still processing it a cough came from the shattered wall. Instantly a low growl came from Patton as he drew forward he seemed ready to attack the creature again. But as the boy lifted his head another cough came from him as he turned around so he wasn't on his stomach. He brought a hand to his must be sore head as he blinked around him.

A beat of silence before another cough as he looked down on himself to see the cloak draped over him and sighed. When he looked up to Patton and Logan he looked...frightened, almost like a little kid lost from his parents. It sent a certain sadness through him to see that expression on the young boy's face. And when he saw the blood that was coming from both of them his eyes instantly went wide with terror.

"Oh, gods I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean... Shit... I thought nobody would be out here... Are..are you two okay?" He honestly sounded terrified, not because of them two but because..of himself. He recognized that look, that feeling of being scared of himself, of being unsure what he is capable of. And it sounded out of character from him, even Logan could tell.

But as those eyes looked to him he could have sworn his heart missed a beat. Even though his hair was everywhere and with bits of rocks and rubble in them and dirt and even some bits of blood stuck to his bare body. Every bit of him shouldn't have been appealing but to Logan...he wasn't sure how to put it. He even felt a slight heat rush to his cheeks and ears. But he shook his head, he wasn't sure what these emotions or whatever they are, this was no time for that.

Instead, he stood up and placed a gentle hand on Patton who looked conflicted at the moment. "What's your name?"

"R-Roman..."

"Roman... What a strange name. Well, in any case, this is Patton, who's a vampire. And I'm Logan, I guess you could say I'm similarly to Frankestines monster. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. Though well I hoped we would have met under different circumstances but here we are. And yes we are fine you didn't damage us so we can't function if that's what you mean. And I suppose most people think my home is abandoned or at least haunted so I've heard so that wasn't your fault. Are you okay? I saw you were bleeding from a strange wound there."

That seemed to shake Patton out of his trace he was in as he smiled brightly going forward to help Roman up and to tie the cloak around him and to help his bleeding leg setting him up on some rocks and dressing it quickly. Though Logan noticed there was something off about his smile, and even his movements were jerky. And he didn't think it was the fact that he lost a lot of blood.

As Roman stood up leaning on one of the boulders he looked to both of them again before tilting his head, almost like a dog. "Wait... Repeat that?"

Logan couldn't stop himself from taking a sigh of irritation. Thankfully Patton repeated what he said which seemed to click in Roman's head.

Though he didn't expect Roman to suddenly laugh so loudly it echoed through his library. He pointed to Logan, "Wait you mean to tell me your Frankestines monster! You must be joking! A vampire I get, I've heard of you guys before and to be wary of you. But Frankestines monster? Are you sure your not this vampires plaything and he just twisted your mind to think your that weird monster?"

Logan simply blinked for a few seconds at this weird reaction. He seemed completely out of his mind. Do vampires normally do that?

When he looked to Patton he seemed to be holding in anger just barely but he shook his head, "No, kiddo most vampires don't have...play things I can assure you. No, he really is Frankestines monster, well very similarly at least."

Roman laughed again shaking his head, "I highly doubt that!"

This flamboyant boy was getting on his nerves, for the second time today he couldn't control his emotions. This boy hurt both of them and he thinks he will just stand around and take this? Sure he was almost happy that he didn't run away but he obviously couldn't tell what he was, his limbs was new after all and he was okay at stitching them together so he properly did look like a normal human. Though his job was poorly as he just recently discovered he could do that but that's beside the point, and in any case, Patton told him he looked human enough so that was enough for him.

But still, now he was upsetting Patton again and he won't let that stand. So he took a deep breath and crossed his arms, "I am Frankestines monster or well kinda! You're a werewolf it's not that hard to believe!"

Roman smirked and raised up an eyebrow, "Alright smart guy. Prove it."

That made Logan chuckle as he gripped one of his arms. He was going to regret this later when he has to redo the precious stitching that caused him hours to do but to prove to this boy that he was right? He'll do that any day. He already had to replace them anyways soon or later might as well put them to good use.

Patton moved towards him with slight concern, "No Lo don't it's fine if he doesn't believe you. Don't worry about it."

But Logan didn't respond. Gripping his arm tighter he pulled roughly and he heard a snap of his stitches and a moment later he was holding his arm with his other hand. There was lots of dried blood dripping from that arm as well as a bone sticking out but he didn't feel a thing.

The color drained from Roman's face as he looked on in horror. For once Logan smirked at the sight drawing closer to the frozen boy, "Don't be so snarky next time. And this-"

He smacked Roman across the face harshly with his detached arm, "Was for hurting Patton."

Romans eyes were still on him, on his arm, as he was knocked backward stumbling over his injured leg.

Patton rushed forward to catch him, "Lo! You didn't have to do that! I don't think he knew what he was doing when he was like that!"

Logan blinked at him then shrugged, "Well then that's for being snarky. You're happy now? Now if you excuse me I have to reattach my arm and get this stitched up and look for new body parts. I don't know what you want to do with him Pat but it doesn't concern me much."

As he turned towards the hallway once again he heard the boy finally speak up and it was a whisper as if he was afraid to speak loudly, or that he couldn't.

"W-What...is that...? It's...a freak.."

That word... Freak...he was fine with being called an 'it'. That didn't concern him. But freak... That sent a wave of hurt crashing through his heart and body. His grip on his arm tightened so hard he knew his nails were digging into it by this point as he drew in a shaky breath. He could feel eyes on him, he wasn't sure who it belonged to but he didn't care. He had to get away now before his emotions ran wild even more then it has already or he would start crying.

Sure that word hurt him but it never sent him like this before. Maybe it was that it came from that boy that sent his heart beating faster? He wasn't sure but now he felt...heartbroken he think is the term.

"No, he isn't. He's just like you and me. Now here let's go to my place to fix you up how does that sound?"

A hint of fear went through him as he thought about the boy changing back to that creature and attack Patton but if he was correct they only changed at the full moon correct? Logan could see the faint traces of the sun through his windows and the damaged ceiling so at least he won't have to worry about that.

Even so, Logan wasn't sure that was such a great idea since he seemed to not like this werewolf but he knew it was his best option. After all, it wasn't safe for humans around his place and he couldn't go free now knowing about him and Patton now.

He thought of all things that maybe a werewolf would understand him... He thought wrong he supposes.

As he turned the hallway he sneaked one last glance over his shoulder to see with a heartbreaking glance towards Roman and Patton. His vision grew blurry as he thought none of them saw him.

But he was wrong in thinking that as Patton stole a glance over his shoulder as he closed the huge door seeing that tearful gaze and sighed deeply.

He hoped he could comfort his friend but he had to keep this werewolf busy for as long as he can.

And with that, he shut the door behind him with a loud bang. As he turned around he plastered on a smile to his face as he tried to keep up with Roman's questions as best he could trying to ignore his heavy heart and the sense of dread and fear that crept up his spine at remembering what those all familiar claws has done to him in the past.

#logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan #roman #patton #romantic logince #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #thomas sanders #my fics #and yes there is a reason why patton is very...wary of roman #ive even thought that far into this au #*hint hint at that last sentence*#I LOVE THIS AU ALRIGHT???????????#sanders sides au #monster au

33 notes · View notes