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hoaqins-funk-house · 3 years

Text

Springtrap

Yandere

Male Reader

You can read part 1 here

Part 2

Quietly whistling, you enter the building, locking the door behind you and turning into the office, finding the familiar tall man leaning against the wall above the vent.

“Welcome back, Y/N. You ready?”

You stretch, as per usual, humming. “As I’ll ever be.”

He walks past you, patting your shoulder with a grin as he murmurs two words into your ear.

“Good luck.”

You deadpan as his teasing hits you, watching him wave as he passes the glass. Sighing, you plop down into the chair, cursing as your tailbone hits the metal again. You follow William with the cameras, him speedily making his way back to the last room, where he motions to the vent next to him, crossing his arms in an x.

You nod to yourself. He isn’t going to go in that vent, as it would give him the unfair advantage of being in a vent where you can’t block him off.

When he smirks at the camera and slinks into the shadows, you sigh, beginning your defense.

It was five when you really lost him. He was nowhere to be found.

You had exasperated a few more shades, excluding the one who seemed to really enjoy being about three inches from your face at all times. You didn’t really mind him, though; he was pretty hot.

Your brother wasn’t wrong when he called you ‘gayboy.’

Still, looking up, you see the man with a ripped up uniform staring down at you amusedly, his hand placed on the glass. Quickly, you play audio in the room to his left, making his grin lower as he gets led away by his body, you playing another sound in a further room before resetting audio.

You hear his rapid steps as audio reboots, watching him dart across the glass before finding him at the door frame. You lock eyes with him, a drop of sweat flowing down your cheek. Hearing the audio finish rebooting, you blindly grasp at the camera pad, violently and repeatedly pressing the sound button in a vain attempt to lure him away. Audio broke again because of how quickly you were spamming the button.

Right before he could take a step into your office, the bell chimes, and you shove the camera pad away from you, face hitting the desk with a thump as you let out a relieved sigh, feeling the stress leave your body.

“Hmm. You did quite well, all things considered.” William praises, watching amusedly as you wearily raise your hand, curled in a thumbs up.

“I think I aged about a decade.” You groan, pushing yourself up to face your hunter for the night. You breathe heavier than usual, hair either sticking out or to your face from sweat, along with the light flush that comes with occasionally losing your oxygen supply.

It’s a sight he plans to see again; granted, not in this context.

“I’ll take that as a sign of quality pursuing.” He states, further entertained by your half-hearted glare. “What, do you have a problem with that?”

“You’re too good.” You say.

His brow quirks at your words. “Too good?”

“Yes, too good a pursuer. And you know what?”

“What?”

“Feeling like your prey for fifteen minutes was enough to completely wipe me. A whole six hours would genuinely kill me.”

He laughs, ignoring the feeling he gets from you calling yourself his prey.

“Well, I’ll just have to hunt to your limit. Now... isn't your shift over? Or do you just want to stay the day with me?” His grin makes his offer into what would easily be interpreted as a joke.

“Something came up, unfortunately. I would stay and chat, but it seems I must be going.”

Of course, this is you we’re talking about.

William was somewhat taken aback. You said you would?!

You would stay back to talk with him?

He practically short-circuits, lips slightly open in shock. He only comes back to reality with the feeling of your hand running through his hair, ruffling it. Instinctually, he grabs it, looking at the hand in his grip and then at you, a small smile on your face.

“Should I not-”

“No, you may. I just… wasn’t expecting it, is all.” He cuts you off, releasing your warm hand and watching with a pang of disappointment as your hand lowers, you stepping away. With a wave, you turn.

“See you tomorrow, William.”

He nods nearly breathlessly as you exit the building, lifting a hand and letting his fingers drift over his chest.

A pulse.

…

Then another.

…

And another.

His gaze lifts from his hand to the door you had exited through, expression shocked before his eyelids droop once more, lips forming a drunken grin.

You are his, the one he needs most, his perfect prize and his perfect prey.

You, who gave a corpse his heartbeat.

It’s about 17 hours later that you stumble in, Your frazzled state catching William off guard. You slouch over as you walk, the dark color under your eyes speaking to how many hours of sleep you got.

Entering the office, you, for once, sit down calmly in your chair, your head hitting the table in front of you. You turn to face the rabbit-eared man, eyes half-lidded and dull.

“I came in an hour early to sleep, if you don’t mind…” You drawl, him grimacing at your state.

“Feel free to.”

He hums as your eyes shut, and he watches your body fully untense, noting the chair slowly rolling out from beneath you. Your face is peaceful, nearly the same expression you gave him on the first night after first meeting him face-to-face.

He sighs, stepping closer and grabbing your midsection right before you would've fallen. Your eyes don't even open, but you quietly groan, continuing to sleep as the man considers his options.

He can rest you on the floor?

No, when you wake up you'll need to peel yourself off of it.

He can put you back in the chair?

You'll probably fall out of it.

There is that staff room he found…

Eh, it's his best option.

There's a couch in there, too.

He lifts you onto his back in order to not continue holding you like a wet towel, walking out of the office and into the area where cam three was active, finding the door in between a few props. Opening it, he feels the floor beneath his bare feet shift from grimy tile to thin carpet, colored black, along with a dark, ugly green couch. There’s a vent on the wall, a secret entrance to your office’s vent.

As he goes to place you down on the couch, he realizes that your arms are wrapped around his collar, head leaning into his.

He regrets not paying attention earlier, as you were practically a heating pad. His arms, very loosely circling your legs, release as he leans closer to the couch, hovering with his back over it before realizing that, hey, you were asleep!

So, he lets himself turn, your arms still wrapped around the back of his neck, instead holding you up on his front.

Now, he decides to lay down on the couch, his tall physique making his legs have to be propped up on one arm of the couch. You lay on top of him, head nestled in the crook of his neck, allowing him to feel your soft breaths across his skin.

His arms wrap around you, feeling your warmth. With a small, satisfied grin, he feels the slightest flush cross his cheeks as you nuzzle closer. You were made for him; made to fit perfectly against him, made to be his, forever.

He doesn’t even notice as his eyelids drift down, consciousness fading.

Goodnight, Y/N.

It was to the chime of the bell that you woke up, letting out a small sigh before you begin to take in your circumstances, eyes still not open.

You fell asleep at work, but it certainly isn't midnight, as the bell had just chimed. It also isn't the chair you fell asleep in.

As they shift around you, holding you tighter to him, you realize that arms surround you, and that it seems likely you're sleeping on the rabbit man.

Before you try to roll over and off of him (which was a dumb idea; William would've fallen with you), you feel him wake up based on the rumbles in his chest as he lowly groans.

You sigh, half-heartedly pushing yourself up. "Good morning, William."

His eyes shoot open, and he looks down, noting you and the position you were both in. "Mind letting me go?"

"Uh- yes, sure." He releases you, allowing you to get off of him, stretching with a yawn. Meanwhile, William was reeling.

You, saying good morning?

Your rusty morning voice?

You, apparently not caring about how you were just asleep on top of him?

Actually, he almost wishes you did care about it; you being embarrassed would be adorable.

"So… where is this?" You ask, looking over your shoulder at the man as he sits up, already feeling the void of your warmth.

"We're in the staff room. The door leads right into the attraction."

You hum, nodding, him standing with a small sigh before standing at your side, his hand placing itself on your shoulder.

"Nevermind that - what exactly made you into a walking corpse? Don't you know I already have that role covered?" He asks, a joking tone in his voice. You smile.

"Well, remember the funerals I got off my main job for? I had to go to one." You sigh, feeling his understanding shoulder pat.

"How unfortunate that you had to do the thing you were getting off of work to do."

That understanding shoulder pat turns sour!

"Listen. I, uh, can't really argue with that…"

William smirks. "No, you can't."

You sigh again, defeated. "Well, I need to head home. Thank you for letting me sleep through my shift, by the way. You make for a spectacular bed." It is with those parting words that you exit the room, not even allotting him the time to process your words.

Stiffly, he stands, following you out the door and back into the main area of the building, where the last he sees of you for some hours is the door closing behind you.

He finds that watching you leave each night makes the cold emptiness hit him once more, returning him to a state similar to how he was when trapped. His lips, previously in a stricken pout, now fall into a scowl.

You, you, you…

He fell asleep easily and dreamt of a peaceful void when you were there. But now that you aren't…

His dreams will never be calm. That brief instance of tranquility was like a drug to him; he wants more, the quiet, warm existence in a space consisting of nothing. Nothing to bring him pain. Nothing to bring him fear.

But, nothing to bring him joy.

If he stays with you, will his dreams return to light? Will he feel your arms wrapped around him, holding him close as he buries his face into the crook of your neck?

Letting out a shuddering breath, he forcefully breaks himself out of his thoughts, looking down at his hands as they shake. Lifting one to his face, he feels his mouth in a wide grin.

He already knows what he wants.

He already knows what he needs to do.

But he needs to be patient.

As you reenter the building, William perks up to the sound of the door closing behind you. He purposefully replaces his wide, unsettling grin with a casual smirk, entering the hallway and seeing you.

He will never get tired of you in your uniform.

You lift your head to meet his gaze, hearing him approach. He waves through the glass, you doing the same thing in return. You, per usual, stretch your arms above your head, feeling them get grabbed by William. Looking up at him, you raise an eyebrow, not noticing his grin.

“Say, could you get out of that seat real quick?”

You hum in confirmation, him releasing your wrists as you stand.

You deadpan as he takes the seat, sitting down in it. "Wow. Asshole."

He laughs. "Think of this as charity."

"I'll think of it as what it is, thievery." You huff, sitting on the desk as a replacement for your stolen chair.

He laughs again.

You roll your eyes, leaning your head on your arm, which is propped up on your leg. "I think the dude who got you made a really good choice."

William pauses. "Okay, now I think you're actually flirting with me."

"Take it as you will. But what I mean is he made a great choice for a horror attraction in finding you. Your big form is scary as hell, what with the actual organs about to spill out and stuff. Your human form… I wouldn't describe you as scary. Intimidating to someone who doesn't know you, maybe, but not scary."

"And what makes me... intimidating?" He asks, face forming into an amused expression as he watches you deadpan for a moment at his tone.

"Your scars, sure, but the main thing is your height. You're like, what, 6'7?"

"I was still quite tall when I was fully human, too."

"Really? How tall?"

"Around 6'4 or 6'5."

You whistle. "Damn, you didn't even grow that much, even when you got a boost from the suit. Actually, how does that even work?"

"The suits? Well, when bodies are shoved into the suits and become trapped, their souls begin to merge with the vessel. For me, it took a long time, because I was around your age, but for the other suits…" He pauses, flicking one of the bobbleheads. "It didn't take them very long at all."

You nod. "Because they were kids… I never understood it."

His brow lifts. "Never understood what?"

"Why someone would kill them, and 11 of them at that. Kids can be annoying, sure, but… they still deserve a chance to grow." Your eyes focus on the ground, brows drawn together.

"I see." He responds, silent other than those words. You don't notice how his expression turns cold, lips in a downward curve. His reason for slaughtering the kids is simple.

He wanted to.

You look up, his face shifting to solemnity.

You offer him a weak grin. "Sorry 'bout bringing that up, it's a bit heavy."

"No, it's fine."

You hum, leaning back while your hands grip the edge of the table. "I think I'm gonna miss this. The fifteen-something minutes we got here."

He tilts his head, so you take that as a sign to elaborate. "Tomorrow's my last day. I can still visit, of course, but I'll be heading back to my job on Tuesday."

His eyes widen as he processes it. Of course, it was never going to be permanent. The pay was shit, and you even told him that you had a month off, nothing more.

He doesn't want to let you go, not when you're right there, not when you won't be showing yourself as often.

"You good?" You ask, him nodding as his gaze shifts quickly to the door you leave through. All he needs to do is block it, then you'll be forced to go through the whole attraction if you want an immediate exit.

"Yes, just wondering how often you'll stop by." His eyes shift back to yours. Of course, he hadn't even considered the question. He knows there isn't any need to worry, not when you'll be at his side the whole time. He'll bind you to him, make it impossible for you to escape.

"I should be able to on weekends, and maybe Wednesdays? It depends on my schedule. So at least twice a week." You smile, the slight head tilt adding to the charm. "It's good to know I've made an impact on someone here, though. William, I really do enjoy your company."

His soft smile holds a hint of euphoria.

You enjoy his company?

He hopes you will feel the same over the years. His idea…

He knows exactly how to do it.

"I enjoy yours as well."

"Well, I'd hope. Me waking up on top of you would've been a bit more awkward if you didn't." You chuckle, his smile slightly widening.

Of course, it couldn't happen tonight.

"I suppose so."

Your brow raises, arms crossing. "You sure you're good? You seem rather… subdued." You question.

He shrugs, feeling the strange warmth form in the pit of his stomach as he hears you worry for him. "I'm just a bit tired, I suppose. Sleeping last night threw me off." Well, he is actually a bit tired.

You nod, still feeling as if something is off. "I can get that. When I got home last night, I immediately crawled into bed and passed out again."

"You were still tired?"

"Well, seven hours isn't much when I had stayed up for over 40. Wait, you were tired? Animatronic-corpse-hybrid-whatevers can get tired?"

His casual grin returns. "Especially in this form, yes. I'm still a close-enough-to-living-thing to get tired normally."

"Huh. How strange." You simply respond, eyes slipping upwards and not noticing as he rolls forward.

"Hey, could you hold out your hand real quick? Like this." He holds out his hand in a way similar to how you grab a drink, you copying him with a slightly confused expression. With that, he rolls slightly closer, and after closing his eyes, rests his head on your hand, your fingers cupped over his cheek.

You feel your brain lag.

Your mouth opens once, you soon figuring out that whatever you would say would be incomprehensible, so it's best to not even try.

William lets out a breath, seeming to deflate into your touch. A few moments later, his eyes open to the sound of the 6 am bell and the sight of your somewhat flushed face. He leans away, leaving you still very confused. "Thanks for that."

"You're… welcome?"

He's already missing your touch. "Well, we should both get some rest, tomorrow's your final night." But certainly not your last with him. William rolls back, giving you the space to get off of your desk.

You nod slowly. "Uh-yeah. That's true." Sliding off of the desk, you let out a small groan while you stretch, a lot of air hissing into the noise. After you shake your head to clear it, you send a smile towards William before beginning to leave. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Of course." He responds. When he hears the click of the door, he stands up. He needs to get some rest if he wants to be in top shape.

His lips curl into a sneer, already knowing his plan would be successful.

Exiting the room, he heads to the back of the attraction, returning to his animatronic form and standing in the spot he started all of this in.

Tomorrow.

Part 3

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sophi-s · 3 years

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Cost of Kindness

Chapter III: Between joy and sorrow

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 7,405

Characters: Raphael, Darksiders OC

Warnings: None

Summary:

After a crazy adventure outside of Haven, Nicola finally is in shape to try and find her way back. As sad as she is about it, she bids her farewells to her new angel friend. However, it seems Raphael isn't quite ready to say goodbye just yet. And so the fearful human finds herself in the company of an archangel stuck to her like glue.

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Until the sun peered shyly from behind the horizon to announce the arrival of another dawn, Nicola slept like a log. Literally. She hadn't stirred throughout the whole time of her dreamless, magically induced sleep. Were it not for her steady breathing, because as pale and motionless as she was, some might have thought her dead, not sleeping. After long hours, she finally opened her eyes as the remnants of the arcane haze fell and left her mind unshackled. The fog receded from her sight and she was fully expecting the ceiling of the room she occupied in Haven to greet her. Only to be met with disappointment when the dark interior of an underground tunnel filled her vision instead.

For a couple of seconds she was absolutely stunned, unsure where she was or why. The shock of waking up in a strange place had her frozen while her brain was trying to process what in the actual Hell was happening like when she awoke after her first night spent in the Maker Tree. Slowly, the memories of the recent events creeped back into her head. Raphael. Kitten. Demons. My leg… Right… She did feel much better than before but still a little woozy, possibly because half of her brain wasn't fully awake just yet. Massaging her eyelids to rub away the vestiges of sleep, Nicola sat up and scrutinized her surroundings blinking groggily. The same, damp sewer, the same cold darkness. Yawn, which followed, was so wide one might think Nicola intended to swallow everything in this "room".

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the aforementioned angel sitting a couple of feet away, supporting his head on his hand, elbow on his knee while a small cat slept in the rumpled fabric of his green waistcoat. His hood concealed his features as his wings rested against his back and shoulders which steadily moved up and down in the rhythm of a calm breathing. For a moment it might have seemed Raphael was dozing as well but at the quietest move Nicola made, his wary eyes open to look at her without any traces of sleep in them, glimmering like two bright stars from the shadow the hood was casting over his face. It was so abrupt that it made her jump a little.

"Oh! H- hi! Good morning. If it is morning, I mean.."

At her greeting, the cat perked its head up with a "mrowf" noise and shot her a dirty look for daring to interrupt its rest before yawning almost as widely as she did. Raphael answered her with a nod and a small, affirmative sound in the back of his throat but otherwise remained quiet, content with watching her in silence when Nicola leaned down to inspect her thigh and determine whether or not she was in shape for walking anywhere. And to her not unpleasant surprise, the wound was almost fully healed and moving her leg wasn't painful anymore. She did feel the recently present damage to her muscle but she wouldn't call it "pain". More like strain. And that was in like seventy percent of her body from the previous day, even if not as intense as she expected it to be. She really did over exert herself quite a bit. Still, with all certainty she could say Raphael did an unbelievably good job. If only human doctors were in possession of even a teeny tiny part of the healing abilities he had, the world would've been a much safer place.

Though, she couldn't really decide whether the fact that her leg seemed to be perfectly fine was a good thing or not. On the one hand it would mean that nothing hindered her any longer. If the sun is really up then she should wait no longer and set out to make sure the nightfall doesn't catch her again and look for a way back home. Home… In spite of herself she smiled sadly. How quickly she started to refer to Haven as her second home. Her own was irreversibly lost after all.. Reduced to nothing but a grim rubble with all her childhood memories buried underneath. Nicholas died so that she may get out of there alive. He would love it in Haven if he had a chance to see it… In this last safe sanctum for her kind, other survivors, makers.. They were her new family. She could only imagine how they're feeling right now. She should've been back ages ago. She has to return as quickly as possible. The idea of asking Vulgrim for help wasn't completely off the table. She could probably promise him something in return for taking her to the Tree and give it to him later. Nicola can be pretty convincing if she has to but she wouldn't put that past Vulgrim to deny her still. She'd have to play it smart should she fail to find the way back herself. He doesn't trade in favors in exchange for promises after all. No matter. One way or another, she will get back to Haven. That, or she can say goodbye to her wretched life.

But on the other hand… Glancing up at Raphael, who was half-busying himself with petting the very content cat and half-watching her, she realised with a twinge that she'll have to leave him. In those few short hours he'd done so much for her.. so many things she was grateful for… And on top of that, with how sad and lonely he was, Nicola couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor man. She'd never met an angel before and hadn't come to know one well but those she'd seen when this nightmare started didn't make a good impression on her. Raphael was so much different from his kin. She still wasn't sure why he decided to help her even though he didn't have to. And that made her feel empathetic towards him, especially every time he gave her this suffering look which told her a long story of pain and misery. Nicola may have known him for barely a couple hours, if not less, but somehow the thought of leaving him here possibly never to see him again was making her heart sink. Because of the apocalypse, she was running really low on friends and so no one could blame her for wanting to keep every single one she had left or recently made. And honestly, after the angel saved her life and treated her wounds she would lie if she said he wasn't on the right path into the alarmingly small circle of people she held dear to her. Such experiences have a way of bringing people closer to one another, despite the differences they may possess. And besides, what would leaving him here be if not cruelty?

"You seem… troubled."

Raphael stated, making Nicola look at him again. Even after only a few hours spent with her, he sensed her current mood without a mistake. He was pretty insightful. Not that Nicola was trying overly hard to hide it but still. Maybe that's just something the angels do. She sighed in response. I really am.. She thought. It wasn't as though she didn't have a lot to be grim about but this particular thought at the forefront of her brain bothered her the most at this given moment. She didn't want to go just like that but she knew she had to. If only to make sure other guys are alright. But honestly she doubted that Ulthane would ever let her out of his sight again after the stunt she pulled, no matter what she tells him afterwards. In turn, this might be the last time she sees the kind and selfless, not all there angel. Whether she likes it or not, it was time to bid farewell.

"I… I wanted to thank you again for what you did for me."

She started as she stood up - still a bit wobbly from all the crazy stuff that happened so recently - looking around in search of her backpack and shotgun. Both were resting under a wall not far from where she was laid down before, right next to the place where the mummified Goreclaw used to be. Raphael must've moved it further down the sewer where the rest of the corpses were when she was sleeping. Sooner or later it would start attracting pesky flies and other nasty vermin if not things far worse, not to mention the smell of decomposing meat. A little reluctantly, she flung the backpack over her shoulder and picked up her gun before turning to face Raphael. An increasingly unsettled Raphael who seemed to have taken the hint what she intended to do.

"Really, thanks. It's been very nice to meet you. But I have to go now."

"Go? Where to?"

The barely audible note of fear in his voice and the look he gave her made Nicola feel even worse for having to part ways with him.

"I'm going.. home."

Nicola to some extent knew how to read certain people but the blank stare of the angel before her was giving her a really hard time.

"Look, I can't stay here and I'm sorry but I have to go.."

She said hesitantly and turned towards the exit from the tunnel to leave for the surface, quietly wishing she didn't suck at saying her goodbyes. This was one of her greater weaknesses, right after small animals. Especially cats.

"Goodbye. And good luck! I hope we'll meet again.."

With that short farewell, Nicola turned away to walk off into the sewer and begin her search for Haven. But a firm grip on her shoulder stopped her from taking more steps and made her glance back in bewilderment. Somehow, Raphael shifted from a sitting position to standing and closed the distance between himself and Nicola in one beat without producing a single sound. Not going to lie, it was quite scary and Nicola couldn't help a startled squeak that escaped her. But even though he spooked her yet again, the distressed face he pulled made Nicola bite her lower lip. And the hesitant plea leaving his mouth made it even worse.

"Stay…"

"I- I can't! I really need to go!"

"Please…?"

Raphael quietly begged her. His flared and bristled wings were quivering anxiously and his face bore the most pitiful pleading look she'd ever seen. God, why do you have to make this so difficult? It was strange. He'd been doing fine without Nicola for who knows how long. Well… fine might not be the right word to use in this case but whatever. Though, now that she thinks about it, it makes sense that he wouldn't want to be left alone again. Especially because loneliness doesn't serve healthy people well and Raphael looked like someone who could use the help of a specialist. Still, Nicola found herself asking.

"Why do you want me to stay?"

Instead of answering, Raphael glanced down from her face, looking at the point on her chest, just below her collarbone. Nicola awkwardly cleared her throat to get his attention once she felt like his gaze was going right through her mortal shell and piercing into her very core.

"Uhh.. What exactly are you thinking about?"

Not bothered by it, Raphael squinted and lifted his forefinger, extending it to the place he was looking at. And seriously, for a second Nicola was considering batting his hand away since it could without a doubt be viewed as invasion of personal space when the pad of his finger connected with her chest where it ended and her neck began. And in this moment white flash passed through Nicola's eyes, followed by a deathly chill somewhere inside, tearing into her heart from within with icy claws like a vicious beast. As though someone had poured freezing cold water into her body. And amidst this coldness was a tiny wisp of warmth pressed against her ribcage, as if it was trying to get out. To get as close to Raphael as possible. She gasped in shock and fear and from the unexpected and not physical pain - so intense it made her feel sick - which wasn't really… her own. She felt it, experienced it but she knew it wasn't hers. Somehow Nicola knew that it belonged to someone else. And this someone was standing right in front of her.

Slowly but surely, it was starting to make sense. Why Raphael was constantly so shaky, so easily frightened, so… wrong. It all lasted barely a fraction of a second before both she and Raphael abruptly backed away with astonishment painted across their faces. Neither of them was entirely sure what on God's green earth just happened or why it happened. Whatever it was, neither of them would say it felt pleasant. Nicola was fairing better than the angel however. While she was only mildly frightened and befuddled, he immediately retreated into the corner and curled up on the floor, wrapping himself up in a feathery cocoon of his wings, trembling like a leaf on a gale.

"Raphael..?"

She huffed trying to steady her own breathing as she cautiously approached him just when he started to mutter obscene nonsense again. This time Nicola couldn't even determine what exactly he was saying. He spoke way too quickly and he was only able to pick up single words like "torment", "soul" or "help". This odd sensation, this pain she felt was undoubtedly in him. All. The time. Every day of his existence. It became clear. Nicola could imagine that even she would sooner or later go absolutely mad if the suffering he's experiencing without a moment of rest was hers. It was nothing short of a miracle that he retained at least some small semblance of who he used to be. Ever since she came to him, he did start to make more sense than before, possibly because she could at least partially distract him from this pain. But if he needed distraction, why would he leave his White City behind? Angels may have been mean to her race but surely they would help out their brother in need, right?

All questions Nicola had most likely could be answered by a story of his past which he wasn't ready to reveal just yet. Perhaps, if she's careful enough, one day he will open up and tell her about it. But until then, she remained in darkness of uncertainty. Still, she couldn't help but wonder.. Carefully, she crouched and laid her hand on Raphael's shaking shoulder, making his head snap up with a fearful look to his round, empty glowing eyes.

"Who… who did this to you?"

The angel opened his mouth as if to answer her but no words came out. Only a soft huff. Tears welled up in Nicola's eyes when his face scrunched up in something between anguish and misery. And that was enough for her to snap. In spite of herself, Nicola reached around the angel's neck and pulled him into a tight hug burying her face into the side of his green hood which despite the stench surrounding everything here still held a barely noticeable scent of something that brought to mind clean cotton with a tint of vanilla. His entire body went rigid as she did but only for a moment. Merely seconds later, he relaxed, his breathing evened out and he moved his own arms around her back to return the embrace that brought a tiny bit of comfort that could at least partially fill the emptiness he felt within for so long he couldn't even remember how it is to not feel it.

"Don't leave me alone…"

He breathed against her ear, clinging to her desperately as if letting go of her would mean his inevitable end. Up this close, Nicola could feel his heart - much bigger and more powerful than her human one - hammering uneasily against his ribcage. Similar, but completely different. And for some reason, her own heart suddenly skipped and beat once alongside his in the exact same rhythm before everything returned to normal. Or maybe she was just imagining things? Possibly…

This warm and tight embrace, even though it was meant to comfort him, still gave Nicola an odd feeling of safety. All of the sudden Raphael seemed to her not like a stranger she met by chance not even a day ago but like a good, old friend she knew she can trust no matter what. The decision of leaving Raphael behind was difficult enough before but now… her heart fell to pieces. It was next to impossible. She couldn't just leave him like this. He doesn't deserve to be abandoned again. No one does.

What do I do? Nicola knew she could neither stay with him, nor can she return to Haven without risking that her conscience would make her feel shitty for the rest of her goddamned days and that a thought that she doomed some poor soul to descend into utter insanity would make her share his fate. But there has to be something she can do.. Anything.. Then, an epiphany struck her.

"Wait.."

She said once Raphael let her go and she could look him in the eye as he gave her a questioning yet hopeful stare.

"You could come with me!"

"Come with you..?"

"Yeah! The Tree is much safer than here and there's a lot of useful stuff there. Also, it doesn't stink that much…"

Not only that. Other survivors, even as skeptical as they are towards angels, surely wouldn't mind Raphael poking around. Having a skilled healer on their side would certainly change their mind even if they weren't eager to let him stay. Ulthane, Elanya and Yarin can be persuaded if they don't agree at first. After all, if Raphael's presence will mean that "wee uns' " are even safer, then Nicola couldn't think of a reason why they shouldn't relent. Not to mention that Raphael can fly. It would make it a child's play to find the Tree. Back in Haven she could also get the poor angel patched up and cleaned up a bit, since he himself is in a rather sorry state. That's the least she could do for him in return. Only one thing was left to do, considering how uncertain Raphael looked. Convince him.

"What is this… Tree?"

"This is a safe place for us, humans, and it's… kinda our new home now."

Before, Nicola was absolutely certain Raphael's eyes couldn't turn bigger and rounder but he was very quick to prove her wrong. Not to lie, it was quite impressive. He blinked a couple of times as if to make sure he heard it right.

" 'Us' ? There is… more of you out there..?"

Nicola nods enthusiastically once she realises she's on the right path.

"Yeah! Ulthane made us a safe place to-"

"Ulthane?"

He interrupted with confusion on his face, making Nicola stop in mid sentence to look at him questioningly.

"Ulthane… the Black Hammer?"

"Yes, he's a-.. Wait… you know him?"

Humming thoughtfully, Raphael drummed his fingers against the cold floor. His answer didn't clarify much however.

"No.. Azrael does.."

"Who?"

An angel most likely. Probably one of Raphael's former acquaintances. Mentioning this "Azrael" seemed to have brought some memories back, very fond ones at that since for the first time today, a ghost of a smile passed across Raphael's face and an absent look in his eyes turned warmer and not so frightened anymore.

"Friend.."

Seriously, for a moment Nicola wanted to say that she's sorry because she just assumed that Raphael's friend could be dead but she bit her tongue before she could tell him that when she realised he actually used the present tense and not past. Which indicates that Azrael, whoever he is, is still out there somewhere. Instead, she wanted to tell him more about Haven but he once again interrupted her.

"The Balance is upset.. the Third Kingdom is vital to it… Humans. Humans live still? Not everything is lost then.."

Oh boy, here we go again. Unwittingly, Nicola pulled an annoyed face. For the umpteenth time, Raphael unintentionally made her feel like an uneducated imbecile. Why is the Universe even more complicated than we initially thought?

"Yes, he does the right thing.. They need a protector."

Nicola decided to patiently wait until Raphael is finished thinking out loud, even though she once again had no clue what he's saying. What Balance? Third Kingdom? The what?

"The Horsemen cannot do this alone… It is the duty of us all… to- to uphold the Balance."

The WHO??? Nicola could only imagine how stupid she looked with that dumb face she just made. What. The actual fuck. The Horsemen? As in… the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? They are real too? So it is a legit end of the world like the one in the Bible! How lovely! It's honestly a miracle that anyone has lived if that's the case. What else? Maybe it will suddenly turn out that snow is warm, sun is cold and skunks don't stink. Though with all the chaos going on around, Nicola would hardly be surprised if dogs suddenly started chirping and birds barking. She really just wished for the things to calm down already.. Returning to normal seemed to be off the table unfortunately but for God's sake, can the demons at least just go home or something? But… Now that she thinks about it… Could the mysterious warrior clad in crimson be one of the infamous Four? He didn't look like an angel, even though he bore quite a few similarities to Heaven's denizens, nor did he seem purely demonic in nature. And he was there when the Apocalypse began.. Curious. Especially because if it wasn't for his interference, Nicola would have probably been dead by now. All he did was stop for just a second to tear the bus door out once he saw her struggling to open it from the inside. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't, who knows? Eventually, Raphael glanced at her with a more certain look on his face.

"You don't stand a chance. Not against the Destroyer."

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.. Nicola thought, still having the clear image of the flaming dragon standing barely fifteen feet away from where she was hiding in her head as if it happened yesterday. He was terrifying, no one is taking this away from him, but screw that! That's one gigantic motherfucker. Nicola was pretty sure she could comfortably live in a room that was the size of his goddamned head. If he tried to eat her, she'd probably get stuck between his teeth at best. And so far that's the last place she wanted to find herself in. She really didn't need help in figuring out that a bunch of humans still shitting their pants at the sight of a single Wicked could stand up to the bloody Destroyer. What are they, the legendary dragon-slaying knights or something? Not to be pessimistic or anything.. but Nicola wouldn't be surprised if that thing could kill her by so much as breathing in her direction. He does breathe fire after all. It goes without saying that he also has a huge horde of ugly assholes under his whim, jumping at the tiniest flick of his tail. So yeah. Chances for success in an open confrontation are pretty miniscule. Fortunately, what Raphael said next made her sigh with relief.

"You need all the help you can get… I will come. If this is your wish…"

Victory! Now that was the solid dose of serotonin Nicola had been missing for quite some time. Not only can she return home and assure her strange little family that she's alright but also she doesn't have to leave her newfound friend behind. Her conscience will stay clean, Raphael will be safe in Haven, maybe even recover to some extent, and the humans will have a powerful angel healer on their side. To her it was a win-win.

"You will?! That's awesome, thanks!"

Nicola was quick to gather her humble possessions and waited for Raphael to get up and take whatever he needed. But surprisingly, all he took was the kitten which he held against his chest since it wasn't really pleased about being manhandled but the angel simply ran his finger through the fur on its head to put it back to sleep again before depositing it to a small knapsack he had on his belt where it could rest safely. Apparently, he wasn't attached to anything he stored in his hideout over the time he spent here. Well, there weren't many useful things to take anyway. At least that's what Nicola thought before, because Raphael leaned over one of the bigger crates and reached for something apparently hidden behind it. And oh boy, the thing he pulled out… An ornate, gilded staff, as tall as Nicola is. The centerpiece was flanked by two slender serpents coiling around it in a beautiful, symmetrical way to the very top crowned by a pair of wings and a ring between them.

"Whoa…"

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't hide her amazement. That was some sick looking staff. The design seemed to ring a bell but she couldn't quite tell where exactly. Unlike Raphael himself, the staff was well kept, clean and undamaged, even if a bit tarnished. Apparently in his solitude, the angel cared for it well and often. For this last piece of home he has, Nicola realised with a pang of sadness. Even in his fond expression she could see the attachment to this one small part of his past. Okay, maybe not that small… Once Raphael was ready and glanced at Nicola to confirm it, she nodded and walked off into the dark tunnel with the angel trailing after her like a duckling.

"Oh, and by the way…"

Considering what Nicola had seen before, she figured it would be best to warn Raphael about some of Haven's denizens. Well.. by some she specifically meant Vulgrim. Despite his queer way of being and shiftiness, Nicola still somewhat liked him. The demon merchant was hardly a good material for a friend but so far he proved only two things to her. That he can be cunning and annoying. And that he's unbelievably helpful. And in truth, Nicola couldn't help but grow a little fond of her exceptional neighbour. Especially because Vulgrim was the only demon so far that didn't try to kill her where she stood but instead engaged in a conversation. That might be because he's just scared of Ulthane but he seemed rather harmless. Hell, he even sometimes provided useful resources if Haven could afford a trade with him. In a way, he too was helping humans survive. But if he suddenly jumped out of that Serpent Hole of his… Nicola could already see Raphael blasting the demon into Oblivion without a second thought. And that was something she didn't want to happen. Better safe than sorry.

"There's this… guy sometimes swinging by to say hello to us.."

Even as she spoke, she didn't stop walking and the quiet tapping of the end of the staff against the floor told her that Raphael kept following. How do I explain to an angel that a demon means no harm?

"The name's Vulgrim. He's a little… Ugh, how do I put it?"

"A demon… Crafty fiend, far more powerful than he lets on. Yet, so… deceivingly docile.."

Nicola halts as though she's just come face first into an invisible barrier once she heard Raphael grumble distastefully to himself. Turning around, she gawked at him with non hidden shock. And while she expected anger or at least disgust, Raphael looked rather… resigned for the lack of a better term. And only ever so slightly annoyed.

"You know Vulgrim?"

That literally came out of nowhere. The description of Vulgrim Raphael just gave was so unbelievably accurate. Nicola already suspected that the demon is much more dangerous than he seems but simply refuses to put his power to use and do something constructive with it. And now she got a confirmation. From a very unlikely source but still. Raphael was quick to offer a clarification and answered her question with his own.

"Who doesn't?"

"Ah, that's fair.."

She chuckled. Vulgrim is that kind of a "person", who seems to know everyone and has been to pretty much everywhere. He offers his merchandise to every creature that can afford it and it shouldn't be that surprising that some people, even angels like Raphael know him, or at least know of him. She suspected the latter part in this case. This makes it much easier to explain to Raphael that he's a friend.

"He's cool though! He's helping us keep it together and doesn't really bother anyone in the Tree. Vulgrim is really helpful if he wants to."

To this, Raphael answered with a doubtfully raised eyebrow and a thoughtful hum. He didn't seem convinced but what he said fully satisfied Nicola.

"Hmmmm… so I was told.."

Before they even noticed, they were right below the well lid which was Nicola's original entrance to the sewer. And honestly? She was so glad that she decided to come down here. Otherwise, she wouldn't have met Raphael. Some part of her still dreads to wonder what would happen to him if she didn't find him. He was already at the brink of losing it but now it didn't seem as bad as before. In a way, Nicola saved him too, it seems. Before, he was barely registering what was happening around. Now he was more or less capable of a relatively normal conversation. Sure, he tended to talk to himself quite a lot but she supposed that the solitude and whatever nightmares he'd been through have taken their toll. Climbing up the ladder, Nicola pushed the lid out of the pavement and immediately the golden light of the new day spilled through it, banishing the darkness and ouch, it hurt her poor eyes.

Even though Nicola wasn't in utter blackness all the time thanks to the arcane wisp of light that followed Raphael everywhere whenever he needed it, the bright pillar of sunlight struck her like a physical force, leaving her mostly blind for a good ten seconds. Still, another breath of fresh air tasted like ambrosia to her. No stench of the sewer and rotting meat. Thank God.. It took only a few seconds afterwards for her sight to get used to the brightness but still she needed a moment to wipe the tears from her eyes. Before she exited the sewer however, a quiet hiss behind her made her stop.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Raphael recoiling from the light with his eyes squeezed tightly shut and a grimace on his face, shielding himself from the radiance with his left wing. Right.. How long he'd spent down there, Nicola could only guess but she could understand how dizzy it might've made him and how much it burned his darkness-adjusted eyes. More than that, to him the sunlight probably felt like it does to a goddamn vampire.

"Raphael? You okay?"

The angel didn't answer her, simply kept still, slowly lowering his wing to look at the light flowing through the opened way out, blinking rapidly so that his eyes adjusted to it quicker. And once they did.. Without a word, he hesitantly reached out towards the bright sun rays and put his bandaged hand right through the border where the light and dark clashed with one another. And immediately, once the warm glow caressed his skin, his face brightened in mute fascination. The fact that he hadn't seen the daylight for way too long became ever so apparent to Nicola and made something twist inside of her sadly.

"The sun…"

Raphael breathed and let his mouth form a wide grin once he fully entered the illuminated area and turned his face up with his eyes closed to soak it in.

"Blessed Creator, I missed it.. oh how I missed it…"

It took less than a second for Nicola to decide that she's going to let him have that moment. They were in a rush, true, but she simply didn't have it in her to tell him to hurry. She didn't want to interrupt him because even with all the dust and grime on his emaciated face, for the first time since she'd met him, Raphael looked so unbelievably happy. Truly happy. Just because he could feel the warm light of the sun upon his skin. And with a full smile he underwent a sudden change. All fear left him, his features softened and Nicola would dare say that even as broken, mad and defeated, in this short moment he looked… beautiful. As an angel, which humans often imagined, should. Under all that dirt something was glistening from the surface of his skin under his eyes, on his cheeks and forehead, the sunlight painted warm streaks on his long, white hair that fluttered on the cool breeze from above. In spite of herself she smiled too. This look to him suited him far better than a sorrowful, troubled frown. She could already tell, she will be always trying her best to save this precious smile.

With a deep breath of fresh air, Raphael opened his eyes to look out at the clear sky in shades of delicate blue and… in a flash of gold accompanied by a quiet whizz disappeared. Nicola's jaw fell open. Her human mind will never stop getting surprised over the stuff like that. And even if it will, it's going to take a long time. Before she could even start wondering where the angel vanished to, a large silhouette blocked out the sun. Still a bit surprised, Nicola looked up right at Raphael's kind face and his outstretched hand as he offered her help in getting out of the stinking well. So he can teleport. Lucky bugger. To be frank, Nicola felt a small sting of jealousy. And while she expected him to simply let her hold onto him as she pulled herself out, he hoisted her up in one fluid motion and set her on the pavement beside him the moment she took his hand.

The odd angel kept surprising her. Despite his thin frame, he was quite strong. For human standards that is, she didn't know how his physical strength was viewed among his brethren. During the initial armageddon she caught glimpses of much more sturdy-looking angels after all. The memory actually made her wonder if Raphael knew that one angel she saw talking to the warrior in red. The one who got… brutally squashed by that gigantic fuck-off demon that nearly made her heart refuse to keep fighting out of pure horror before she booked it. At least she could only assume that he got squashed because as soon as she saw the hand shoot out from the pit of boiling magma below she averted her eyes not to look at it and all she remembered now was a female voice desperately crying out a name she couldn't quite recall right now.

I'll ask him another time. She thought as he was pulling her out into the outside world. Still, the caution he did it with… Sighing inwardly, Nicola realised that Raphael already has something in common with her other bizarre friends. He too handled her as though one uncareful move could harm her and treated her as though she was made of porcelain. For quite some time Ulthane was afraid to even touch any of them not to break something and there were very few people in Haven who could resist poking a little fun at the maker. Oh well. Looks like it's a privilege that last members of the human race get. Everything is either super gentle with you or is trying to ruthlessly murder you. Nothing in between so far. Only Vulgrim seemed to be mostly neutral towards them but that was one exception.

Outside of the sewer the day was unusually warm. The sun was shining down at the crumbling Earth from a clear sky, no clouds hindered its rays and the air movement was a bare minimum. Nicola didn't wait long before unzipping her vest. Cooking inside of it was the last thing she fancied right now. Judging by how high the sun already was, she'd say it was far past the morning hours. Actually, maybe even somewhere around midday. Looking down at her watch confirmed that she guessed it right since it showed the exact time of

11:56 A.M.

Now's the high time she started looking for a way back. She walked over to one of the tallest buildings nearby to search for a suitable vantage point - careful this time, not to get jumped by some asshole again - and glanced back to see if Raphael was still following her. And in agreement to what he'd accidentally shared with her back in his hideout, Nicola has taken a note that he's.. limping. He was leaning on his ornate staff heavily and his eyebrows were furrowing with each step he took but his eyes were quickly shifting between all directions of his surroundings, always on watch for a threat. Still, there was an ever-present weariness to his pace. To put it simply, Raphael looked tired and moved with difficulty, as though he was in constant pain. In a way, he was.. But somehow Nicola knew it wasn't really the same pain one feels when getting injured or ill. This was something… else.

Nicola decided maybe she will ask him about it later, once they're safe. Maybe. They had to find Haven before the sun sets after all. No time to waste. Though… she didn't really know how to approach the matter. Raphael had done so much for her already. Asking him for help and a lift made Nicola feel incredibly awkward. Especially because she wasn't quite sure if asking an angel to fly her somewhere was considered rude by his people. But it had to be done. Otherwise, they might not make it on time.

"Hey.. Raphael? I forgot to say that but… there's a little problem.."

"A problem..?"

Raphael cocked his head to the side as he looked down at the small human woman wringing her hands nervously. Why was she nervous? The archangel could no longer sense or even see fear in her, yet something was still wrong. For some reason she was feeling uncomfortable, whether it was his presence or something she was about to say.

Why should she ever trust you? Your kind destroyed her life!

And that was unfortunately the truth. Half of it at least. Demons too had their part in it. Raphael knew he holds no ill intentions towards her or her kin hiding from the Apocalypse in the Tree she kept talking about but something told him that Nicola is still afraid of him. She just doesn't know it yet.

"I'm not entirely sure where we need to go.. I got… a little lost..?"

Ah. So that's the problem. Honestly, Raphael was half-expecting something truly horrendous but if being lost is the only problem they have - for now that is - then there's nothing to worry about. The directions to the safe place are surely buried in her mind somewhere, accessible and possible to dig out. All she needed was a gentle nudge in the right direction. And if that doesn't work, Raphael can always try to search through her memories himself if she won't have a problem with that. Though, considering how fragile humans are, both physically and mentally, Raphael didn't want to risk irreparably damaging her mind that way. This was the last resort. Instead, he reached out to her and laid his hand on her shoulder, summoning his magic to take both of them to the top of the crumbling block of flats looming over them.

"Wh- whoa! Hoo.. lee!"

Nicola loudly exclaimed to make her astonishment apparent once they reappeared on the rooftop high above the destroyed city. Raphael could only imagine how odd teleportation must feel to a human who's absolutely devoid of any magical abilities and not used to it being used around them.

"Will this help?"

Shrugging off the surprise, the human walked up to the ledge, so close it made Raphael feel mildly uncomfortable, and looked out at her ruined home bathed in daylight. Squinting at the sun and shielding her eyes from its shine, Nicola looked around, murmuring under her breath

"Gimme a second.. The cathedral is there, the shopping mall there… So the Tree should be somewhere around-…"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully for a moment before she turned to her left and her face immediately brightened as she pointed into the distance.

"There! Look!"

Glancing towards the place Nicola was pointing out, Raphael could barely make out a massive shape between ruined buildings. It really did look like a grand tree. An enormous shadow standing tall above the ground. And Nicola was pretty much vibrating with ecstasy and shifting on her feet like a small child impatiently waiting for something amazing to happen and beaming.

"It's right there! We did it!"

She squealed like an excited child as well. But Raphael knew it might be too early for celebration. That was quite a long way… How she even got from there to here anyway, he may never find out. What's more important, if Nicola wanted to make it all the way back there, it might take her a whole day if not longer and each minute spent out in the open means that demons have a bigger chance of discovering her and putting an end to her existence. And that Raphael couldn't allow. Every human that survived counts. He could see why she asked him to come with her and he decided he won't fail her. He won't fail anyone ever again. The faster they leave, the better. Turning to the excited woman standing beside him, the archangel unfolded his arms and crouched.

"Hold on to me…"

Nicola's mood shifted instantly. Sometimes it was kind of disturbing how humans can turn from happy to sad, angry to calm, excited to apprehensive and vice versa in the matter of seconds. Her eyebrows wandered up as she eyed him cautiously.

"Huh? You want to-..."

In response, Raphael gave her the most reassuring smile he was capable of despite the coldness of his tattered soul feeling especially troublesome today after he unwittingly created some sort of a link with Nicola. Or maybe not as much with her, as with the bright, heavenly spark inside of her. By all means, the flash of blinding pain, as intense as the day he tore out the first fragment of his being and multiplied by the amount of times he repeated this, was not a pleasant experience. The memory still lingered at the back of his head but he tried anyway.

"Trust.."

He simply said, making Nicola swallow and smile nervously, half-heartedly joking

"O- okay. Just don't drop me, alright?"

“Of course..”

She uncertainly conceded and wrapped her arms around Raphael's neck for the second time this day, holding on so tightly that for a human it would surely be excruciating. No wonder. A human doesn't need to fall from a very high place to get themself killed or at least crippled for the rest of their life. But Raphael had no intention of letting her fall. Putting his free arm around her, holding her securely against his chest, the archangel unfolded his grand wings. The soft breeze rolling above the city immediately caught in his feathers, calling and beckoning him into the vast skies. It's been way too long since his last flight. Luckily, it's an ability that once learned is never forgotten.

Raphael shot up into the air just as Nicola tightened her grip even more, holding on no worse than a koala bear. Not wasting any more time, he swept over the human city turned into a dreary graveyard, heading towards the Maker Tree and gladly leaving the sewers behind in favor of the brighter future opening up before him for the first time in centuries.

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

Listen, Raphael needs and deserves a hug, okay? For being a precious guy <3

Send over all the hugs for him 💓

EDIT: Gonna upload it on AO3 tomorrow

#darksiders #darksiders 2 #darksiders 3 #my fic #fan fiction #raphael #darksiders raphael #darksiders OC #Cost of Kindness #CoK #my art #fan art #hugs for raphael

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mdzsgildedfate · 3 years

Text

Gilded Fate - Chapter 4

Reincarnation AU [Chapter 4/?] Characters: Xue Yang, Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Jin Ling, Original Characters. Pairings: Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi

In all the world, there were very few cultivators that had achieved immortality. There was BaoShan SanRen, of course, who’d long since disappeared from the world after vowing to never take another disciple. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, too, found their home together away from other cultivators. Wen Ning and Song Lan were technically immortal as Fierce Corpses, but most people believed them to be nothing more than myth and legend.

The other immortals, the only ones who hadn’t secluded themselves away, were Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Jin Ling, and Ouyang Zizhen. As good friends since childhood, the four cultivators had come together to build a joint sect on the south face of a mountain between LanLing and Gusu. The small village at the base of the mountain was one the larger sects paid no attention to, so when the renowned four immortal cultivators established their school there, the villagers flocked to their doors in hopes of being taken on as disciples.

At almost five hundred years old, the boys had long forgotten thoughts of encountering souls from their lives before immortality. All their attention was funnelled into their school, working hard to combine the principles from each of their clans into a single cohesive curriculum. Despite the first generation of disciples being an embarrassing train wreck of trial and error, they managed to produce a handful of decent and respectable cultivators.

The second generation was well into their studies when a long forgotten ghost appeared at their doorstep. Wen Ning had travelled to their mountain, bringing along with him a girl no older than 8 or 9 years old. After a heartfelt reunion between Lan Sizhui and his estranged relative, Ning had explained that he suspected the little girl to be the reincarnation of his older sister, Wen Qing. He begged them to take her in and teach her cultivation, hoping to give her a better life than the one she’d led in Wen Ruohan’s debt.

They agreed and Wen Ning left, saying if he stayed he’d be too much of an influence, either by his own feelings or his existence as a fierce corpse. So Wen Qing became Li JiaYi and was indoctrinated into BaLanSu Shi. Sizhui watched over her studies personally, feeling his own memories of Qinq resurface as she grew into the spitting image of her past self. By the time she was fourteen, her skills were well known in the cultivation world. With JiaYi representing the BaLanSu sect, they grew to be a gentry clan alongside Jin, Lan, Nie, and Jiang.

The world seemed bright and the future seemed promising until JiaYi became plagued with insomnia. The other disciples could find her up at odd hours of the night, practicing with her sword in the courtyard or poring over books in the library. After she fell asleep on her feet during a night-hunt and nearly lost her head to a measuring snake, Sizhui began playing Clarity for her twice a week before bed. For a while, it seemed to help.

When her soul finally awakened, the four immortals were unprepared. Soul awakening was rare and usually only heard of in small, insignificant instances. A farmer remembering a life where he fought in a war and so his sword skills improved slightly. A handmaid remembering a life in a kitchen and suddenly preparing complex dishes with ease. Nothing to the degree of what happened with Li JiaYi.

On the day Ouyang Zizhen was meant to marry, JiaYi stormed into the banquet hall and went on a sleep-deprived tangent about the crimes the gentry clans had committed against the Wen clan. When Zizhen tried to calm her down, she snapped and killed half the wedding guests, including Zizhen’s bride, before disappearing. If the slaughter of prominent clan members, some of which were clan heirs, wasn’t enough to bring the BaLanSu clan to an end, Wen Qing continued her siege of revenge in the city below.

The entire population of Da Su was decimated indiscriminately and reanimated as an army of walking corpses. The destruction was enough to bring Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian out of seclusion to intervene. With their help, the walking corpses were destroyed, but in the end it was Wen Ning who subdued Qing long enough for Sizhui to finish her off. In the aftermath, the JinLan Yang sect was abolished and Zizhen removed himself from the cultivation world to a life of solitude.

Centuries could lessen the guilt and pain of what happened with Wen Qinq, but it was something Sizhui had never been able to dispel from his mind. He encountered more and more reincarnated souls; some he knew, most were strangers, but he dedicated himself to each and everyone in repentance for his failure to Li JiaYi.

~X~

When Jin Ling revealed the contents of his conversation with Xinyi the night before, Sizhui and Jingyi felt a wave of dread wash over them. Experiencing the symptoms of awakening for so long was utterly unheard of, and for someone like Xue Yang to persist for so long without losing his mind- It felt impossible to believe.

“A-Yuan. This is your area of expertise.” Jin Ling said, breaking the long silence that had fallen between them. “How do we proceed?”

Sizhui shook his head slowly. “I… I’m not sure…”

“He seems perfectly fine.” Jingyi said, eyes glued to the floor. “He shows no signs of awakening. He shows up for class on time, he does his work well, he has friends- I don’t.... I don’t see how this is possible.”

“Last semester.” Sizhui chewed his lip anxiously. “My class last semester was earlier than yours, A-Yi. He was almost always late, and missed class so frequently I had to fail him. I thought he just didn’t care about the class, since he’s only majoring in anthropology because of the Wang Collection.”

“The what?” Jin Ling interjected, getting brushed off immediately.

“I can’t believe I dismissed such an obvious sign.”

“That still doesn’t explain how he’s coping so well.” Jingyi was pacing around the room now, chewing on his thumbnail. “Do we even need to do anything right now?”

Sizhui was silent for a moment, considering their options and the position they were in before speaking. “Since he seems fine for now… let’s try to hold out until we leave Leng Shuang. We can’t seal him without arousing suspicion, and guiding his awakening would just be a burden on Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen.”

The others nodded in agreement and set the conversation to rest for now, heading out to rejoin the group of students Song Lan had led out to the clearing near the temple. While Jin Ling headed off on his own again, Sizhui and Jingyi were left alone to keep an eye on Xinyi, watching out for any symptoms they may have missed before. In their absence, the students had already constructed a dozen or so poorly-made kites and were getting ready to send them up as targets.

Song Lan guided the students to line up in groups of five, with everyone else waiting impatiently behind them, and showed them how to hold their bows. The first group fired off their first arrows and missed their kites completely. Going through four more arrows each, only two kites were brought down. The second group consisted of Xinyi, Chen, QianHua, and MingYue, which of course made their turn an unspoken competition. Chen shot all five arrows into the air with no luck. QianHua nicked his kite on his fourth try, but it stayed suspended in the air mockingly. MingYue brought her’s down on the second try, and Xinyi shot his down with the first arrow.

After retrieving their kites, MingYue turned to intercept Xinyi with a smile. “Nice shooting-”

“No.” Xinyi picked up his kite and turned away from her without so much as a sideways glance.

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, crumpling her kite slightly. “We’re here for four more days, are you really going to ignore me the whole time?”

“We?” He asked, back still turned to her. “Didn’t you come here with your twin? You’re not part of my class, I don’t have to pay attention to you.”

“He’s not my twin, he’s…”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are the matching robes a couple outfit? My bad.” Xinyi rolled his eyes, shooting Chen and QianHua an exasperated look as he rejoined them.

“Hardly!” MingYue’s grip on her kite tightened, tearing through the paper. She took a deep breath and loosened her grip, forcing a small smile. “Look. I may not be part of your class, but we’re here together regardless. Can’t we just be civil with each other?”

“I’ll be civil with you.” QianHua stepped in, waggling his eyebrows at her.

Her smile tightened, hiding an air of disgust. “A-Xin, I-”

Xinyi spun back to face her now, throwing his kite to the ground and stepping close to her. “First of all, don’t fucking call me that. Ever. Again. Second of all, there’s twenty other people here for you to bother. Just because your freak boyfriend keeps ditching you, doesn’t make you my fucking babysitting job. Just piss off!”

Without another word, he turned back and stormed off into the trees. Chen and QianHua exchanged startled looks and ran after him, ignoring Sizhui and Jingyi calling after them. Once they caught up to him, QianHua swung an arm around his neck, walking alongside him on the path back to the temple.

“Man. What fucked up shit did a girl that hot have to pull to make you blow her off like that?”

Xinyi pushed his arm off, but slowed his pace for the two to keep up with him. “She just gets under my skin. She’s irritating. And I don’t get why she’s suddenly trying to reconnect with me. I haven’t heard from her in two fucking years, and now suddenly she shows up here out of nowhere and wants to be my friend?”

QianHua nodded thoughtfully, humming obnoxiously. “Sounds like fate to me. You guys must have been lovers in a past life, destined to be together.”

Xinyi scoffed. “The only thing she’s in love with is my family’s artifacts. I’m certain that’s the only reason she dated me. I’d sooner marry Chen than consider giving her another chance.”

“Hmm… Chen’s pretty in these robes, but is he really wife material?”

“I’d make the best wife. Don’t be jealous A-Qian.” Chen replied, grabbing Xinyi’s hand. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the only one of us that knows how to cook.”

Xinyi broke out in laughter and pulled Chen close. “See? Perfect! I never have to look at MingYue again.”

“Wait! I forgot about his cooking, I want Chen for my wife!” QianHua grabbed Chen’s other hand and tried to pull him away from Xinyi.

“Hey! Hands off my wife, how dare you disgrace her like that!” Xinyi pulled Chen behind him and snatched up a stick from the side of the trail, brandishing it at QianHua. “Your whole clan should pay for her dishonour!”

Chen broke down to his knees, laughing so hard tears welled up in his eyes. The two launched into a dramatic sword fight, chasing each other up and down the trail, jumping off of rocks and spinning around trees. QianHua got two good strikes in, which just urged Xinyi to fight harder. He found another stick and held them both up at his foe.

“Yin QianHua! I never like to exaggerate when I’m talking.” Xinyi smirked and lunged forward, swinging both swords down at QianHua. “If I say I’m gonna kill someone’s entire clan, I’ll actually kill their entire clan. I won’t even leave a dog behind!”

QianHua blocked the first two blows, but missed the third as he burst out laughing. “A-Xin!”

Xinyi pushed QianHua to his knees with his foot and pointed his sticks at him.

“A-Xin!” QianHua kept laughing, even with the ‘swords’ at his throat. “A-Xin, you should be careful wielding two swords like that.”

Xinyi paused, breaking character to toss a bemused glance at Chen, who only shrugged in return.

“You don’t know the term ‘Ryoutoutsukai’?” QianHua dropped his stick and wiped tears from his eyes with his sleeve. “I didn’t realize you were so serious about marrying Chen.”

Xinyi was about to question the man further, but their nonsense was finally cut short by a pointed throat-clearing. Three sets of eyes shot up to see Lan Jingyi and Song Lan staring them down disapprovingly. QianHua and Chen both bolted to their feet, brushing dust and leaves off their robes.

“If you three have no interest in participating with the group, I can find you a better activity.” Jingyi said sternly, holding a hand out to signal them back towards the temple.

Once they returned, the three were sat down in the courtyard and left to stew in their nerves while Jingyi disappeared inside the temple. When he returned, each of them were given thick, blank notebooks, a couple dozen scrolls, inkwells, and brushes.

“These scrolls contain the 3,000 principles of the Lan clan. Transcribe them.”

~X~

It was nearly ten in the morning by the time Jin Ling made his way back to the pond. Despite having spent hours the night before exploring every inch of the surrounding area, things looked different during the day and he was bound to notice something he hadn’t seen before. He circled the pond a few times, trying to see if there was any spot where the water was clearer. When nothing new revealed itself, he decided to pull the compass back out and turn his attention to the forest.

As he followed his previous route, Jin Ling checked the talismans and sigils he’d left. Everything was still in place, untouched and unchanged. It almost seemed like a waste of sigil papers. Heaving a sigh, he ripped them down to hang up elsewhere later on. Reaching his last set of papers, he took out the compass and watched as the needle spun and jerked around, finally stopping to point up the hill in front of him.

He packed the papers away in his sleeves and started the climb. After ten or fifteen minutes, Jin Ling found the remnants of an old beaten path and began to follow it, leaving a sigil behind on one of the trees. The spiritual energy in the air had increased, giving him a small feeling of hope that he was close to finding what he was looking for. With the sensation growing stronger, Jin Ling wondered how Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen hadn’t been able to pick up on this.

During his first night at the temple, Jin Ling had questioned the two about it, but neither one seemed aware and had reassured him that if anything malicious resided in their mountains, they would have slain it right away. Not wanting to insult their cultivation, he’d dropped the subject, but continued to investigate on his own. Having Sizhui and Jingyi’s students at the temple provided a distraction for the priests and an excuse to ditch MingYue, not wanting to endanger her unnecessarily until he knew what exactly he was tracking.

Having followed the path for half an hour, Jin Ling slumped down against a tree to rest, deciding to stop for lunch before deciding whether or not to turn around and follow the path the other way. He’d barely taken a sip of water before a rustling in the trees had him springing back to his feet. He drew his sword and froze, straining his ears at the sound. The woods were quiet for a moment, but then the rustling came again. A twig snapping, leaves being disturbed, the clumsy sound of footsteps. Jin Ling walked forward slowly, approaching the noise with his sword pointed out.

From behind a thicket of vines, an ambling figure stumbled forward. It’s skin was nearly black, leathery, and it’s movements were stiff and jerky. It’s clothes were dirty and ripped and it’s eyes had no pupils. Jin Ling recognized the thing immediately as a walking corpse. It’s spiritual energy was low and posed no threat to Jin Ling, but it’s presence brought an unbelievable sense of foreboding. How many millenia had passed since Jin Ling had last seen a walking corpse? How many millenia had passed since he’d last seen anything beyond low level restless spirits?

Jin Ling lunged forward and slayed the thing with ease. A quick search of the corpse revealed no clues as to how it had transformed. Something about the modern world had quelled corpse transformation- if there was one here now it could only mean someone with cultivation abilities had reanimated it intentionally. In the past, Jin Ling had only encountered a handful of situations like this. One turned out to be an immortal who’d turned to necromancy, driven mad by her long life in solitude. Most instances were descendants of forgotten cultivator families who’d tried practicing with incomplete lessons passed down through the generations.

Although there had also been a couple instances of reincarnated cultivators who’d lived traumatic lives, died gruesomely, and awakened too suddenly. Considering the current circumstances, Jin Ling had a hunch as to which scenario he was probably dealing with. Packing away the corpse inside a qiankun pouch, the cultivator carried on in the direction the thing had come from. He tracked it’s path for a few hundred yards before it seemed to disappear. No other corpses appeared, so he decided to finish for the day and head back to the temple. Having wasted most of the day backtracking all around the mountain, he was looking forward to eating dinner and having a drink with Sizhui and Jingyi.

When he got back, Jin Ling was surprised to find only three boys sitting in the courtyard, as opposed to the gaggle of twenty-or-so children he was bracing himself for. Song Lan, Sizhui, and Jingyi were nowhere to be found. At a loss for anything else, Jin Ling walked up behind one of the boys and looked down at the notebook that was slowly being filled. He quirked an eyebrow.

“How’d you piss Jingyi off that bad?” He asked, startling Chen so badly he practically leapt over his table, spilling his inkwell onto the ground.

“Wh-where’d you come from?” Chen scrambled back, pushing his glasses back into place, smudging one of the lenses in the process.

“From behind you. Obviously.” Jin Ling retorted, turning to Xinyi. “This was Jingyi, right? What’d you do?”

Xinyi shrugged indignantly. “That girl you brought with you was pissing me off and she wouldn’t leave me alone, so I left.”

“Hmph. Whatever. Where’s Jingyi now? And Sizhui? Where is everyone?”

“Eating inside.” QianHua replied, slumping over his table.

Jin Ling narrowed his eyes. “What, did they forget about you? Get up. Don’t transcribe anymore of that bullshit.”

The three boys shot up, chirping out thank you’s and trailed after Jin Ling like baby ducks, following him into the temple to where everyone else was eating. He shooed them in and directed them to sit down before joining Sizhui and Jingyi. The latter gave him an annoyed look, immediately berating him for bringing the three back in.

“Jin Ling! Don’t interfere with the way I discipline my students! Did they even finish transcribing the principles? How can you undermine me like this-?”

“A-Yi, eat your dinner.” Jin Ling cut him off, shoving a piece of lotus root into his mouth. “There’s 3,000 Lan principles and you had them using brushes. They wouldn’t have finished even if they worked nonstop for the next four days.”

Jingyi frowned, mumbling through the root. “That’s still not for you to decide…”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Jin Ling snapped back. “Song Daozhang. Why has Xiao Daozhang not joined us for a meal yet?”

Song Lan looked over, tearing his eyes from where Xinyi and his two friends sat in the corner. “He’s here tonight, he just left to make more tea.”

~X~

After seeming to only see Xiao Xingchen when he was alone, Xinyi was relieved to finally see the man at dinner, confirming he hadn’t hallucinated him. However, it didn’t make him any less of an enigma. Xiao Xingchen hadn’t spoken at all the entire meal. Even when one of the professors or Jin Ling addressed him directly, he’d only smile or nod. With how easily Xingchen spoke to Xinyi, it seemed strange that he wouldn’t speak to the men he actually knew. The curiosity ate at him, but there was no way to even get near him with Song Lan there, and at the end of dinner, Xingchen quickly disappeared again.

Xinyi shrugged and decided to worry about it later. After staring at those scrolls for over two hours, his brain was too fried to do anything but go to bed. Accompanied by Chen and QianHua, Xinyi dragged his feet back to their shared room. They stripped out of their robes in silence and slipped into their beds, too tired to even complain about Jingyi’s arcane punishment. The only break in silence came from QianHua just as they were dozing off.

“Hey….”

“What.”

“After that battle today... you’re not even going to sleep next to your wife?” QianHua whispered, stifling laughter.

Xinyi snorted and grabbed whatever piece of clothing was nearest to him and chucked it at him. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

Do not kill within Cloud Recesses.

Do not fight without permission.

Do not go out at night.

Do not make noise.

Do not walk too fast.

Do not laugh for no reason.

Do not sit with a disgraceful pose.

The words echoed over and over again. Ghostly white figures walked past him in a line, one after another. As the whispers grew distant and muddled, the figures faced him and moved in closer. The one directly in front of him was a middle-aged woman, her face lined with worries. Her soft eyes were upturned with sorrow and tears spilled over her cheeks.

“How could you kill me so easily?”

Her voice was filled with heavy sobs. Tears spilled out faster and stained her pale face.

“You didn’t even spare my daughter, who was only four years old.”

A man took her place, his features much harsher and filled with anger.

“How disgraceful you are, cutting up my corpse for him.”

A young boy around his age spoke next.

“My body was never found. I was read no burial rights. No one burned paper money for me at a shrine. Why do you get to live again while I’m trapped in restlessness?”

He turned away desperately, trying to escape the ghosts coming towards him.

“You were still laughing as you carved the flesh from my bones.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, covering his face with his hands.

“You turned me into a corpse and made me kill my own brother.”

“I was on my way to my wedding-”

“You killed my children in their beds-”

“You were still laughing-”

“Was it fun?”

The whispers disappeared and, slowly, he opened his eyes. Only one ghostly figure remained. A man who shined like moonlight, with pale skin like porcelain, who’s only flaw was white bandage wrapped around his eyes.

“Was it fun?”

Two red blotches appeared on the bandages where his eyes would be.

“Of course it was. It’s always fun for you.”

The red bled down his cheeks.

“Killing people… it’s just a game to you.”

His throat opened up and added to the red pouring from his eyes, blooming down the front his white robes.

“Was my death… fun?”

Xinyi opened his eyes. The room was still dark. Chen and QianHua were still asleep beside him. He sat up and kicked the blankets off of him, his weary gaze settling on the crouched silhouette in the corner. Was that Chen’s backpack and clothes piled up? He squinted, leaning forward into a kneeling position. The silhouette mirrored his actions and leaned forward. His heart lurched and he jumped to his feet, his fingers turning cold. The silhouette stood up and took a step forward.

It’s long, black hair was disheveled, the knot at the top half falling out of it’s ribbon. It’s clothes were loose and sloppily held together. It’s eyes were blank slates, no pupils to indicate what Xinyi already knew- that it was looking directly at him. He looked down at Chen and QianHua for a split second, and when he looked back, the man was gone. Not waiting for it to come back, he opened the door and slipped out into the hall.

“Xue Yang!”

The figure reappeared in the hallway, spitting the words out with one finger pointed up accusingly. Fear shot through Xinyi’s body like electricity and sent him flying down the corridor, paying no attention to which way he was going, not stopping until he nearly collided with the closed door of the artifact room. He yanked the door open, stepped into the room, and slammed it shut. On his hands and knees, Xinyi crawled across the floor and made himself as small as possible in the far corner of the room.

Just as his heart rate was finally returning to normal, the door began to slide open. He held his breath, hoping the ghost somehow wouldn’t find him if he didn’t move or make any noise. But the man that appeared in the doorway wasn’t disheveled or dressed in rags. He was dressed in a plain, white night robe and his hair was neatly combed down his back. Xiao Xingchen stood across from Xinyi, his eyes finding him in the dark immediately.

“Appreciating the art?”

Xinyi let out a heavy breath of relief. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Xingchen smiled. “I was already awake.”

The light from Xingchen’s lamp illuminated the room as he came inside and closed the door behind him. He crossed the room and knelt in front of Xinyi, placing the lamp on the floor beside them.

“Nightmare?”

Xinyi nodded slowly. “How’d you guess?”

“It’s the middle of the night.” Xingchen replied, his smile widening. “And you’re hiding in the only room in the temple full of swords.”

He looked over at the wall of swords beside him, having not even noticed them until now, and broke out laughing. Or crying. Or both. He covered his face with his hands, trying not to let the other man see.

“Xinyi?” Xingchen reached a hand out and placed it on Xinyi’s knee.

After a moment, he dropped his hands, meeting Xingchen’s gaze.

“Did something else happen?”

Xiao Xingchen’s face showed such genuine concern it hurt Xinyi’s heart. Something about it made him want to laugh again, but another part of him wanted to tell Xingchen what he saw, confide in him about all the horrible nightmares he’s been having and how now he seemed to be plagued by restless spirits.

“Xingchen…” His fingers rubbed together anxiously. “What does… Xue Yang mean?”

The man’s body went rigid. The smile disappeared from his face and his gaze hardened. Xinyi regretted his question immediately. He wasn’t sure which was worse; the way Xingchen was looking at him or the fact that he recognized the words the ghost had shouted at him.

“Why are you asking me that?” He asked planely.

Feeling his nerves building up, Xinyi laughed quietly and looked away. “It’s nothing. It’s just nonsense from my dream.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

He clenched his fists. “Would you believe me if I said I heard it from a ghost?”

Xingchen was silent and Xinyi couldn’t help but look back up. To his relief, the angered expression he wore before had dissipated and his features were soft again. The man looked down at the flame from the lamp, wrapping his fingertips on the floor, drumming out that same beat from the day at the river. After running through the beat several times, Xingchen looked back at Xinyi.

“Every artifact in this temple is thousands of years old. The tapestries, the fans, and porcelain dishware. They all have ghosts attached to them. Most people aren’t sensitive enough to hear them.” Xingchen took Xinyi’s hand and held it between his own. “These restless spirits think only of why they’re trapped here. Time is frozen for them, so they don’t understand things like forgiveness or change. Your nightmares have made you vulnerable to them- you can hear them now.”

Xinyi swallowed hard, unsure of whether or not he believed what the man was saying. He didn’t want to believe it- that the ghosts he saw were real and that he was going to keep seeing them. Was it just one more horrible reality that he’d have to adjust to, like he had to adjust to the nightmares?

“Xue Yang.”

He looked up, startled to see that Xingchen had leaned in closer to him.

“It’s a name.” He looked to the right where JiangZai stood in its case. “The name of the man who owned that sword.”

#mdzs #mdzs fic #xuexiao #xue yang #xiao xingchen #jin ling #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #junior disciples #song lan

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swanqueeneverafter · 4 years

Text

The Once & Future Queen Pt.5

Storybrooke. Present. (Xena and Gabrielle sit down with the Reporter ahead of their journey to the Isle of the Blessed.) Reporter: "Xena. Gabrielle. Thanks for sitting down with me today." Xena: "No problem." Gabrielle: "We're pleased to be here." Reporter: "Good. Xena, first to you. Why have you volunteered to go on this journey to the Isle of the Blessed?" Xena: "Well, if you'd seen the carnage left in the village of Howden, you'd understand." Reporter: "Yes, your history of heroics is well documented by none other than your constant companion, Gabrielle, of course." Xena: (Smiles:) "What can I say? She writes me well." Reporter: "Indeed, but is it not also true that this mission will have dire consequences for one of your group? There have been many volunteers for this journey, including the knights of Camelot and Lancelot himself. Why did you feel compelled to add your name to that list?" Xena: "Well I've already said-" Reporter: (Cutting in:) "Was the necessity of a blood sacrifice a deciding factor for you? After all, you do have a history of falling on your sword in the name of the Greater Good." Xena: "Now wait a minute-" Gabrielle: "Xena and I are well aware of the risks involved in this mission. The veil between two worlds has been ripped open. No one is safe from the Dorocha's attacks." Reporter: "So when the time comes and the opportunity to mend the veil presents itself?" Xena: "If that time comes then-" Gabrielle: "Xena will not be the one to sacrifice herself. (Xena looks back at her:) She and I will do whatever it takes to aid the knights quest to mend the veil, but the days of Xena sacrificing herself to rid our world of evil spirits are over." Xena: "Gabri-" Gabrielle: "Over my dead body, Xena. You got that?" (Xena looks into Gabrielle's eyes and knows that her soulmate is deathly serious.) Xena: (To the Reporter:) "You heard the lady."

Camelot. Agravaine’s Chambers. (Guinevere hands Agravaine a ring.) Guinevere: “You have to take this. It bears the royal seal. In my absence, responsibility to the kingdom rests with you.” Agravaine: “What about you. Surely Lancelot is capable of succeeding without you risking your own life?” Guinevere: “Should the moment come where there is no choice but to sacrifice himself, I wish to be with him. If neither of us return, you’re to assume the throne.” Agravaine: “Your Majesty-” Guinevere: “You’re the only person I can trust, Agravaine. You know Camelot and its people.” Agravaine: “I beg of you, for the sake of the kingdom, there must be another way.” (Agravaine presses the ring back into Guinevere’s hand.) Guinevere: “My mind’s made up. I’m just grateful you’re here.” (Guinevere leaves Agravaine with the ring.)

Storybrooke. Zelena's Farmhouse. (With a small bag over his shoulder and a bundle of clothes under his arm, Robin Hood sneaks out of the farmhouse and down the steps.) Woods. (Walking through the forest, Robin turns quickly around at the sound of a twig snapping behind him.) Will: "Well, this is a bit of a turnaround isn't it?" Robin Hood: "What are you talking about?" Will: (Slaps his forehead with his palm:) "There I go again you see. Confusing you with the other Robin." Robin Hood: (Scoffs:) "You appear to be the only one who makes that mistake." (Turns and continues walking.) Will: (Jogging to catch up:) "What I meant, you see, was that back in the day, the other Robin caught me sneaking away while everyone was sleeping." Robin Hood: (Uninterested:) "Did he really?" Will: "Yeah, cause he'd just caught me lying to him. I used him for my own personal agenda. I endangered his life and the lives of his merry men." Robin Hood: "It was probably something to do with getting back to your sister, no doubt?" Will: "Yes, actually." Robin Hood: "Well then, your motives were pure." Will: (Stops and considers this. Then catches up with Robin again:) "It's not as simple as that though." Robin Hood: "Seems perfectly simple to me. You got something you wanted and Robin got screwed. It's the way of the world." Will: "You're really not like the other Robin, are you?" Robin Hood: (Turns to face him, walking backwards:) "Finally he gets it." (Turns back around.) Will: "Yeah, well my point is I can't let you do this, mate." Robin Hood: "Let me do what?" Will: "Let you sneak off on some suicide mission. (Robin stops walking:) That is what you're planning to do, right?" Robin Hood: (Sighs:) "You don't understand, Will. Good or bad, you are who you are. There's only one Will Scarlett, but for me I will always be living in my counterpart's shadow." Will: "So you're going to prove to everyone you can be a hero, is that it?" Robin Hood: "Well it sure beats staying around here and seeing that disappointed look on everyone's face when they realise I'm not him." Will: "All right, I get that. But the thing is, mate, lately I've been on this kind of redemption kick. See, I did the other Robin wrong and never got to make it up to him. Somehow that doesn't sit right with me, so I'm going to do right by you." Robin Hood: "Will, what-" Will: "I'm coming with you to this Blessed Isle and if the opportunity comes up, I'm going to make things even between us." Robin Hood: "You mean between you and the other Robin?" Will: "Exactly." Robin Hood: (Shaking his head:) "I suppose there's some logic to that somewhere." Will: (Patting Robin on the back:) "Good lad. You know it makes sense." Enchanted Forest. Past. Bazaar. (Emma catches up with the others in the marketplace.) Emma: (Laughing, hugs Tinker Bell:) "Tink, that was amazing!" Tinker Bell: (Beams:) "Thanks." Emma: (Looking around:) "Wow, you even brought the whole bazaar here. I'm very impressed." Tinker Bell: "After you described what you wanted, I figured why do things halfway eh?" Tiger Lily: "Well, bringing the bazaar here is one thing, now can you send it back?"

(Before Tinker Bell can reply, a young man rushes past them as he is pursued by three guards.) Guard 1: "After him!" Guard 2: "Riff raff!" Guard 3: "Street rat!" Guards: "Scoundrel!" Mulan: "Was that...?" Emma: "Aladdin. Come on, let's go." (They follow after the guards, hoping to get to Aladdin before any harm can come to him.) Elsewhere. (A shopkeeper is eating his lunch when there is a knock at his door.) Farzeen: “Can I help you?” Jafar: “We shall soon find out. (The shopkeeper stands and opens the door:) You are Farzeen Shahmed? You work in the marketplace selling scarves.” Farzeen: “Yes. Uh would you like one?” Jafar: “May I? (Farzeen steps aside to allow him entry. Jafar surveys his surroundings:) Oh. You earn very little income, and yet your home is well- appointed.” Farzeen: “Thank you.” Jafar: “It was not a compliment, but an observation. You have a bounty of fresh vegetables in your garden, and I couldn't help noticing you have two camels outside. Few men in Agrabah can afford even one. And yet here you are with two.” Farzeen: “I have been very fortunate.” Jafar: “Indeed. It seems you have everything a man could possibly wish for. (Moves closer to Farzeen:) Perhaps you've met someone who could grant them. Wishes.” Farzeen: “I am not sure what you mean. (Walks away from him:) My good fortune is due to a family investment that has finally begun to pay off.” Jafar: “Is that so?” Farzeen: “Yes. I can explain further, if you'll allow me to turn off the stove.” Jafar: “Yes. Yes. We wouldn't want you to overcook water. Go on.” (Farzeen bows and enters the back room. Rushing to a cupboard, he pulls out a lamp and rubs it. A red cloud of smoke emerges along with an oddly dressed, bearded man.) Farzeen: (Whispered:) “Genie.” Genie: “Master mine, my will is thine.”

Morgana’s Hovel. Present. Night. (Still wearing her healing bracelet, Morgana has a prophetic dream. Red and black banners lie strewn on a battlefield with knight’s corpses. A raven sitting on a helmet takes flight. Merlin walks onto the field, looking down at Morgana.) Morgana: “Help me, Merlin. Please.” (Morgana’s hand reaches up to Merlin from her position on the ground.) Merlin: “Is this really what you wanted, Morgana?” Morgana: “Please…” (Morgana wakes in her bed. At first she seems afraid, then angry.) Morgana: “Merlin.” Enchanted Forest. Past. Continued. Farzeen: “He's here! The one you spoke of. The man with the serpent staff.” Genie: “Steady. It's not you he's after.” Farzeen: “My third wish! I want it now.” (Farzeen pushes the lamp into the Genie’s hands.) Genie: “Have patience. I can help you.” Farzeen: “I wish you gone!” Genie: “Don't!” Farzeen: “As far from Agrabah as the Earth from the Sun!” (Jafar bursts into the room and reaches for the lamp which swiftly disappears.) Jafar: “No! (Using his powers, he lifts Farzeen into the air:) Where did you send him?” Farzeen: “I don't know! Please!” Jafar: (Calmly:) “What is it you desire?” Farzeen: “Just mercy!” Jafar: “Well, then. It seems neither of us are going to get what we want today.” (Jafar closes his fist and Farzeen screams in agony. Standing outside, having stopped to rest, Aladdin hears the poor man’s screams before he takes off running.)

(Rounding the corner, he sees the guards charging towards him once more. Stepping on a stooped man's back, Aladdin propels himself up onto some overhead beams and maneuvers around them to evade capture. Unfortunately, four more guards appear where he lands.) Aladdin: (Hands raised:) "Let's not be too hasty, we can talk about this." Guard: "The time for talking is over." Mulan: (Standing behind the guards:) "I agree. (The men turn and stare at Mulan as she draws her sword. The four guards burst out laughing at the sight and Mulan gives them a pleasant smile, long used to this kind of reaction from men:) Are you finished? Then let's begin." (Twirling her sword, Mulan makes quick work of the four guards, disarming them and sending them flying into each other to land sprawled in a heap on the ground.) Emma: (Holding her hand out to Aladdin:) "There's sure to be more on the way, so it's up to you if you want to take your chances with them or come with us?" Aladdin: "Who are you?" Emma: "A friend." Aladdin: (Looks her up and down:) "A friend like you I'd remember." Emma: "Fella, you ain't never had a friend like me. Come on! (Aladdin hesitates a moment longer before taking Emma's hand:) Tink, now!" Tinker Bell: "Right!" (With a wave of her wand, Tink, Mulan, Tiger Lily, Emma and Aladdin are enveloped in a cloud of smoke.) Crumbling Fortress. Present. Dusk. (Guinevere, Lancelot, Xena, Gabrielle and the knights arrive amongst the ruins.) Xena: “Pair off. Find any wood you can. Get the fires burning.” (The knights collect firewood while carrying torches. One of the knights hears a man’s scream and drops his firewood. The knights gather together as screams start to surround them. A Dorocha launches at them and Xena wards it off with a torch.) Gabrielle: “Let’s go!” Sir Bedivere: “We haven’t got enough!” Xena: “Go!” (The knights are back at the fire pit with Guinvere and Lancelot. Lancelot attempts to use the flint to light the fire to no avail. Taking the flint from him, Xena strikes and the fire lights instantly. Lancelot looks at her. Xena shrugs. Gabrielle grins in amusement. The knights stand around the fire with torches. Bedivere looks at the fire, then at Lancelot.) Sir Bedivere: “It won’t get us through the night.” Lancelot: “It will keep the area safe for a while.” (Later, Gwaine throws a log on the fire.) Sir Gwaine: “The last one. Maybe we should draw lots, see who gets some more.” Guinevere: (Stands:) “I’ll go.” Lancelot: “You’ll need help. I’ll go with you. (At Guinevere’s look:) Well, since when have you known how to collect firewood?” Guinevere: (Smiles:) “I wasn’t always Queen, you know.” (The knights chuckle. Xena watches as they walk off.)

(Lancelot collects firewood while Guinevere stands guard with a torch. A Dorocha charges them from behind.) Guinevere: “Lancelot! (Guinevere drops the torch to tackle Lancelot out of the way:) Let’s go!” (They rush through some passages and close a door behind them. The Dorocha seems to lose them. The knights back at the fire pit shuffle around anxiously.) Xena: “They should’ve been back by now.” Gabrielle: “Someone needs to go and look for them.” Sir Bedivere: “We’ve only got one torch between us.” (Xena grabs the torch and starts walking off.) Gabrielle: “Who’s coming with us?” (Elyan follows, then the other knights. Gwaine grabs his sword belt and puts it on while following.) Enchanted Forest. Past. (Sitting around the campfire, Aladdin tries to understand what's going on.) Aladdin: "So you mean to tell me that I'm not in Agrabah anymore?" Mulan: "The lush green forest tipped you off, huh?" Tiger Lily: (Smiles:) "No, Aladdin, you're not in Agrabah, this is the Enchanted Forest. But we can drop you back home easily enough." Aladdin: "Oh, well that's all right then. I mean there's no rush, probably best to let things calm down back home first." Mulan: "Good idea." Aladdin: "And I should thank you ladies for saving my neck. (They all look at him expectantly:) Thank you." Mulan: "You're welcome." Aladdin: "I've never seen a woman fight as well as you." Mulan: "Luckily those palace guards hadn't either. Otherwise things might've been different." Aladdin: "Those guys? Nah, palace guards are notoriously easy to get by." Regina: (Stepping out of the shadows:) "I can certainly vouch for that." Emma: "Regina!" Regina: "That was you, wasn't it? The parade?" Emma: (Smiles:) "That depends. Did you like it?" Regina: "Like it? (Walking towards her:) That was the most wonderful birthday gift anyone has ever given me. I loved it."

Tinker Bell: (Beaming:) "You're welcome." Regina: "You're a terrific fairy, Tinker Bell. Don't ever let anyone tell you differently." (Tink blushes and flutters her wings.) Regina: (Looks to Emma and then back at Tink:) "Do you think you could arrange somewhere private where Emma and I could talk? (Now looking at Emma:) I'd like to thank her for my gift." Tinker Bell: "That shouldn't be a problem." (With a wave of Tink's wand, a small tent like structure appears on the small hill, a dozen yards or so away from camp.) Emma: "Regina... are you sure?" Regina: (Leans in and kisses her:) "I've never been more sure of anything." (Regina takes her hand and leads Emma towards the tent.) Emma: (To the others:) "Uh... don't wait up." Elsewhere. (Out in the woods Snow White wanders and scans the stars in the sky.) Snow White: “Is that the star? Or is it that one?” Blue Fairy: “Worry not, Snow White. I have found you.” Snow White: (Spins around:) “Blue.” Blue Fairy: "What's troubling you, Snow?" Snow White: "You're joking, right? You saw the parade today, didn't you?" Blue Fairy: "I heard about it." Snow White: "Clearly magic was involved. Powerful magic." Blue Fairy: "What are you implying?" Snow White: "I'm asking if you knew anything about it." Blue Fairy: "I'm sorry, but no I don't." Snow White: "Well find out! Someone is trying to seduce my step-mother while my father is visiting Midas' kingdom." Blue Fairy: (Smiles:) "How do you know your father wasn't behind the parade? Perhaps he arranged it knowing he'd be away for Regina's birthday?" Snow White: "No! I am telling you this was someone else and they had magical help." Blue Fairy: "I'm sorry, Snow, but you can't expect me to-" Snow White: "I expect Fairies to know their place in my father's kingdom! Need I remind you the King often visits Camelot, a place where all magic is prohibited. King Uther is always warning my father of the dangers magic can bring. It wouldn’t take much to convince him that Uther is right. Just think of what that would mean for your kind." Blue Fairy: "Of course. I-I will find out who was behind today's parade and make sure they are reprimanded." Snow White: (Stamping her feet:) "I want them stopped permanently! Incapable of performing magic ever again. Do I make myself clear?" Blue Fairy: (Taken aback:) "Y-yes, Snow White." Snow White: "Good. I would hate to make my father aware of this." (Snow turns and walks away.) Daelbeth. Present. Continued. (Guinevere and Lancelot hide behind a corner in one of the fortress rooms. Guinevere ties a cloth around Lancelot’s injured arm. Guinevere looks uncomfortable and Lancelot gives her a questioning look.) Guinevere: “It’s cold.” Lancelot: “Right.” Guinevere: “You’re not feeling it?” (Lancelot shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.) Guinevere: “Men.” (Back in the passages, Xena leads the knights through the fortress, warding off Dorochas with the torch. Back in the hiding chamber, Guinevere and Lancelot listen to the screaming spirits.) Lancelot: “All the things I’ve faced…I never worried about dying.” Guinevere: “We will defeat the Dorocha. We will, Lancelot, together.” (In the passages, Xena, Gabrielle and the knights continue the search. Back in the hiding chamber, Guinevere and Lancelot wait.) Lancelot: “They say the darkest hour is just before the dawn.” Guinevere: “Feels pretty dark right now.” Lancelot: “Well, it can’t be long then. (The Dorocha finds them and sweeps through the door. Lancelot starts to rush out from around the corner, but Guinevere pulls him back and stands up herself, running straight for the Dorocha:) Guin, no!” (Bursting through the door, Robin Hood arrives out of nowhere.) Robin Hood: “Get down, Your Majesty!” (Robin stands in front of Guinevere, bracing himself for the worst when he too is knocked out of the way. Will stumbles and turns to face the Dorocha. It catches Will in the chest, and throws him back against the stone wall. Xena and the others enter, warding off the Dorocha with the torch. Xena then hands the torch to Gabrielle and turns to Robin.) Xena: “What happened?” (Robin goes to Will. Turning him over, Robin sees that Will is frozen, much like the corpses found in the village.)

#sq #swan queen #swanqueen

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space-------kid · 4 years

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Hello! I don’t know if you’re taking requests at the moment, but if you are, could you do a demon!kyojuro fic. I don’t know if you write for him since ya like genya (I do too, we stan a good boi on this blog), but if ya do, could you write on where he meets the reader, who isn’t a demon slayer? Like they’re just living life on their own until kyo attacks them, but calms down after a couple of minutes. Tears are shed and comfort is given, and they become friends (maybemore). Have a great day!

I’m so sorry, anon, but I’m not taking requests right now! 😭

But since you went out of your way to send me a message (thank you very much! 💕), please accept this tiny piece of writing!

To sum things up: Demon Kyojuro got stuck inside a cave in the mountains, couldn’t hunt any wild animals for him to eat, then got delirious due to hunger.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

𝓬𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝒟𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃!𝑅𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑜𝓀𝓊 𝒦𝓎𝑜𝒿𝓊𝓇𝑜 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Pain.

He doesn’t remember much upon opening his eyes except for the gnawing, blinding pain that freezes his limbs, savagely twists his core, and dulls his other senses except for touch. He doesn’t even remember how long he has been lying here in the dark, alone and overwhelmingly confused. Has it been hours? Days? Weeks?

He doesn’t remember anything. Not even his name.

Feeling helpless, he closes his eyes and wishes for the pain to just end.

He feels worse upon waking up.

Hunger makes its presence known in the most detestable way, clawing viciously at his insides and making his throat and mouth dry. It’s the kind of hunger that makes his head spin, makes his blood boil with an anger he cannot control and understand, and diminishes whatever sane judgement his bewildered mind can come up with.

Calloused, trembling hands find a strange sheathed implement within his reach – a sword, he vaguely recalls. He holds it by the hilt and slowly withdraws the thing, only to hiss angrily at the sight of a bright red blade that felt absolutely lethal – something he doesn’t want to feel against his neck.

He throws it away without any second thoughts.

Hungry... Food...

He wanders – both aimlessly and with purpose – until he reaches the foot of the mountain he wakes up in. A lone, modest hut catches his gaze, a single light from within illuminated in the night’s inky darkness.

The moon is obscured by the clouds, but he marvels at the fact that he can perfectly see everything – the world’s colours not even muted by the dark.

He catches a whiff of a delicious, tantalising smell and he is reduced to a mindless salivating state as he breaks off into a run, clawed hands reaching for the hut down yonder.

Food… please—

Working in the field the whole day leaves you thoroughly exhausted, your eyes heavy with sleep your body craves. But you know that you cannot sleep with an empty stomach, so you slave away in the kitchen to prepare a late dinner.

Fatigue seems to have slowed your reaction time because it has taken you a few moments to realize that the blood in the knife you are holding is yours.

Cursing your clumsiness, you go outside to check the basket you left behind for any bandages you might have forgotten to unpack.

Thundering footsteps reach your ears, and you look up just in time to see a stranger lunging at you with hands outstretched, a feral expression on his face and drool trickling down his – it is indeed a man – chin.

Your body reacted in the situation by pumping adrenaline through your veins, and you are quick to dodge the stranger’s attack. You hear him crash on your front door, and you take the chance to run away while he gathers his bearings.

You cannot run to the field because it will leave you wide open and easy to spot, so the forest is your best bet at hiding. You know the place well enough like the back of your hand, and you are confident enough that you can lose your unexpected pursuer.

But your choice and confidence become your downfall when you hear him at your tail, tackling you immediately to the ground. The two of you roll a few feet on the forest floor and your hunter quickly pulls you up in a sitting position, your back to him and his hot, heavy breathing against your neck.

Thoughts of dying never really scared you before, but you cannot say the same now that your captor has you locked in his strong arms. A clawed hand gently caressed one of your arms, the stranger’s laborious pants turning into a pleased hum as he seemingly marvels at your softness through the fabric of your kimono.

This is it, you think numbly to yourself. This is where you die, and where the woodcutters will find your bloody, defiled corpse in the morning—

“Please…” you whisper, tears pouring steadily down your cheeks. “D-Don’t kill me, I beg of you…”

The feral looking man behind you tenses, and you notice a cascade of orange hair with red streaks in your peripheral vision as he buries you deeper in his hold. He is trembling now, and his hold on you shifts from murderous to soft and apologetic.

You don’t move, afraid that it might set him off again into that savage, snarling husk of a man that has chased you easily into the forest. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, mirroring the way yours pound wildly against your sternum. He swallows harshly, but his clawed hand is gentle – almost afraid of physically hurting you – when it hovers over your injured hand.

“Forgive me.”

His voice is deep and husky from disuse, but you can hear and feel the depth of his words as he slowly untangles himself from you. You are quick to crawl away from him before facing your previous pursuer.

You waited for your eyes to adjust in the darkness, and once they have settled your vision is met by the sight of orange hair with red streaks (true to what you’ve seen earlier), a surprisingly handsome and manly features, and – the one that stands out to you the most – a pair of bright orange eyes with red irises, pupils slit like a cat’s. He is wearing some kind of a uniform but it is stained with dust and grass from your tumble mere moments ago. The same goes for his white haori with flame patterns and colouring on the edges.

“I seem to have lost myself back there – maybe for a few days, even,” he continues, slitted gaze never leaving yours. “But I remember now. I remember everything.”

Your confusion only escalates at his words, and you hug yourself as you inch farther from him. But you stop the moment a look of hurt and shame paints the stranger’s handsome face.

“Please forgive me for mindlessly attacking you,” he says, and your heart hurt at his attempts to inject false cheer in his sincere voice and words. He looks vastly different from the man who attacks you earlier, and you surmises that the kindness he is showing you reflects his true self.

You open your mouth to speak, but your mind doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. He visibly flinches, and you try your best to sit still when he cautiously approaches you and lifts a hand – mindful of his claws – to gently wipe away your tears.

“I am Rengoku Kyojuro, a demon who has sworn never to harm humans and to slay any evil demon I come across with,” he introduces himself. Your heart clenches with pain when he gives you a profoundly sad smile. “But I cannot claim that mantle anymore, seeing as I have just attacked you out of sheer hunger.”

A demon? Demons are real?

He stands up, face set in a falsely cheerful expression as he pumps his fist in the air and declares quite loudly, “I am a disgrace to the words I have once boldly claimed! I shall atone for this humiliation by decapitating myself with my own blade!”

“Please don’t!” you yell at him, surprising not only him but yourself as well with your sudden exclamation. Kyojuro looks at you, puzzled, as you grasp one of his large hands with your much smaller ones. “Don’t kill yourself!”

“But I’ve almost killed you myself,” he tells you, looking shocked at your pleas. You simply look at him with a pleading expression, trusting yourself to convey that you have already forgiven him without using words.

He just seems so sad and ashamed for what he has almost done, but you, a simple farmer, is gifted with an intuition that rivals that of warriors of old. Your initial fear has made you deaf on what it is telling you, but you can now hear it loud and clear as it screams at you to forgive Kyojuro, that he really doesn’t mean to hurt you, that he cannot and will not kill you even in the throes of blinding hunger – as proved by him staying his hand as soon as he has you locked in his arms.

You’ve heard tales of demons devouring their prey as soon as they got their hands on them. But Kyojuro hasn’t done anything of the kind. The most harm he has given you is tackling you to the ground, nothing more.

And he slays his kind – the evil ones?

Kyojuro stares at you with wide-eyed amazement, and you are immediately convinced that he is not the only good demon in existence.

“I’m [Name],” you introduce yourself, and you smile up at him earnestly as you run your fingers reassuringly on his knuckles. “Y-You didn’t hurt me. And if what you are saying is true, that you slay evil demons… then it would do the world a whole lot of good if you remain here, alive and doing what you have sworn to do. So, please. Please don’t kill yourself over— over this!”

The sound of his booming laughter – one that comes from the pit of his belly and is nothing short of amused and grateful – rings loudly in the quiet forest, making you jump in your seat. You gape up at him, openly admiring his handsome face breaking into a smile that echoes the emotions his laughter contains.

“Well met, [Name], the very first person I almost ate!”

You blush furiously at his words, and he comforts you by tenderly patting your head. Neither of you know that your near-death experience and his almost eating a human signify the start of a wonderful friendship… and one that eventually leads to something more.

But for now, you bask in the warmth of Kyojuro’s clawed hand on your hand, and him in the kindness reflected in your [colour] eyes and smile.

#rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kny kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny

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bossuary · 4 years

Text

Having just finished Tevinter Nights, I have un fucktonne of questions and theories. But, below are a few of the subjects/problems that I can’t stop thinking about. I’m curious how other people interpret them, or if I’ve missed some critical details, because it seems like there’s some retconning going on.

so, spoiler warnings apply, since i’m about to discuss the Big Doings below the cut.

The most immediately relevant items come from the final story, right? BUT, because of the nature of the characters, I sort of assumed that much of “The Dread Wolf Take You” is a study in unreliable narrators. Can any of the tales be believed after Charter exposes the Bard? Do we move forward assuming the puzzle pieces we’re trying to fit together are the correct ones, or tread carefully on the word of a known liar?

Nothing about the Assassin’s Tale fits the facts we know:

Meredith’s corpse didn’t actually stay in the middle of the square in uptown Kirkwall. Her remains were taken away to The Black Emporium. (iirc, Varric mentions this in one of the recent comics)

Pieces of her sword (Certainty) were re-forged for Samson to use in service of Corypheus, a sword which eventually passes to the Inquisition.

A shard of the idol continues to exist outside of Meredith’s remains, or her re-forged blade. Depending on worldstates, the shard is either a weapon rune--forged by Sandal and given to Hawke--or it was given to Varric (who then gave it to Bianca to study, I think).

In the comics, and in a few of the short stories, the fiasco of Fen’Harel’s agent losing the red lyrium “item” is cleverly handled from a lore-continuity perspective. It’s only ever referred to as a “weapon,” which could mean a lot of things, and allows for greater freedom in describing it in later media. Until the Assassin’s Tale, I firmly believed they were talking about Certainty. Now we’re supposed to believe it’s been the magically re-formed Primeval Idol this whole time, freshly revealed (by the equally untrustworthy Mortalitasi) as a go-go-Gadget ritual blade.

So, are the Tales a cheeky narrative lie, or is it all lore retcon? If it’s a retcon... -What ritual could the blade have originally served? -Might it actually be a key, as lots of people have theorized? -Is there really a potion that can melt lyrium? -Does Solas actually have the idol now, or was his entire story a lie to cover the truth that he still hasn’t found it?

Also, uh. . .Can Solas just. . .kill people while they sleep/dream, even dwarves? I mean, he has demonstrated the ability to create a “dreamlike” state for a dwarf Inquisitor. But, this power seems OP, even for him, and narrative reach. Possibly it’s further evidence that nothing in “The Dread Wolf Take You” can be trusted. 1. If the plans for the Fade are already underway, what does this mean for people like Evangeline, Anders, Grandin, and Sigrid, who’re possessed by spirits/demons? It’s possible they’ll be forcibly separated. Those (like Evangeline) who’re only alive because of their spirit, will likely die. Without Justice, Anders might finally succumb to the taint.

There are probably thousands of people across Rivain and Seheron, and among the Avvar and the Dalish, who’re contentedly hosting spirits. Would these spirits allow their mortal hosts to be harmed by Solas? Or could there be resistance to his plan from the Fade side of things?

Lots of the stories in Tevinter Nights include the theme of outliers breaking ranks from within a seemingly monolithic society: the Ben Hassrath don’t support the Antaam in their campaign, the Venatori and their supporters operate in defiance of Tevinter, the Crows had one of their Talons disrupt a centuries-old pact.

Going forward in the next game, we might see a spirit faction that, for any number of reasons, acts against The Dread Wolf’s plan to sunder the Veil.

2. Why does everyone in this book describe the red lyrium idol as having only two figures, when every depiction of it that we’ve seen clearly shows three? The crowned figure is (if Solas is to be believed) comforting one person, but no mention of the other poor soul, an even more skeletal figure who seems to be missing their left forearm, and is stuck on the other side of the large ring. No love for that dingus, I guess. Very curious.

And no mention of the serpentine shape that surrounds all three of them.

3. The sea is going to be a big part of the next stage of this story.

-Mythal’s origin has her emerging from the sea. -In “Luck in the Gardens, the 8 Venatori who were tasked with keeping the “formless” monster in its sealed prison each wore a clay amulet depicting a thin four-winged dragon rising above a sea. -“The Horror of Hormak” describes the viscous gray transformation fluid (and the monsters it creates) as stinking of brine. -The Mortalitasi’s Tale includes a reference to The Dread Wolf screaming about the Sea of Dreams. -The Executors appear to be stepping into the action, finally. They are known as ‘those across the sea.’ -Among the murals discovered during Trespasser, there are some that include imagery of flowing water: The Death of a Titan, and Lifting the Vallaslin -Before ascending to godhood, Ghilain’nain killed all of her creations. . .except the giant monsters in the deepest waters. Lore says “Pride stopped her hand,” which could mean that she spared them because she was too proud of how perfectly-made they were. Or, that an aspect of Pride (as a demon or spirit), convinced her to let them live.

4. I’ve always thought that the painted murals of Trespasser and those completed at Skyhold are actually of a different sort, in a very specific way. Much of the ornamentation, symbology, and iconography that’s used in the various frescoes in Trespasser. . .isn’t found in Skyhold’s frescoes. My feeling, based on these differences in style, and the uneven quality of the paintings in the Vir’Dirthara, is that the murals in Trespasser have been painted-over.

-Thanks to Gatsi, we know that the mosaics we worked so hard to complete for the Inquisition were all re-carved by several hands over the ages, making it difficult to get an accurate interpretation from them.

-During “The Horror of Hormak,” Ramesh and Lesha encounter mosaics depicting elven kings and queens, and their subjects. But the mosaics shift and change the longer they stare at them. The scenes transform from a glittering parade of nobility offering succor to their subjects. . .to a death-march of tyrants forcing magical torments on their slaves.

-In “Genitivi Dies in the End,” our industrious well-traveled Brother is humbled when he discovers an elven tome that depicts the continent of Thedas in superior and, crushingly, more correct detail to anything he’s ever seen. Which means that either the continent has changed dramatically, or all the maps that exist in modernity are based upon a flawed (altered) source.

There’s an established trope of people from all parts of Thedas altering relics in order to change history’s interpretation of them. So, why would the frescoes/murals be any different? I believe that either Solas, or someone loyal to Solas, altered the murals in order to obscure the truth behind them.

If we believe Philliam, a Bard! (though, again, an unreliable narrator), the Qunari Rasaan disbelieves all of the names attributed to Solas, either by his enemies or himself. As Philliam posits, to know Solas’ true name would be know the best and worst of him, his flaws and weaknesses, and what he’d “failed to be.”

Essentially, I think we’re being misled at every turn. And this leads me to. . .

5. None of the stories in Tevinter Nights expands on the role of dwarves in past and future conflicts. We get lots of new and juicy stuff on Tevinter, Nevarra, mages, elves, the Crows, the Lords of Fortune, even the Qunari. Noticeably and glaringly absent is any mention of dwarves, titans, and how they fit into the unfolding lore.

One of the largest and most influential groups of dwarves in all of Thedas (The Ambassadoria) lives right in the heart of Minrathous. Above ground. Vulnerable to the invading Qunari and Fen’Harel’s agents.

Dwarves are as tellingly absent in this set of stories as dragons were in all the Evanuris revelations.

The one place where those two things intersect. . .is out in the Hissing Wastes, near the Sunstop mountains (which has always sounded to me like the same naming convention as Skyhold).

Out there, we come across a dwarven thaig, the only thaig to have been built above ground, that pre-dates the first Blight. It’s called Kal Repartha, which means ‘a place where we may meet in peace.’ Paragon Fairel and his sons appear to have built the thaig as a way to escape some huge conflict in the Deep Roads.

Statues of Mythal’s dragon form are arranged in places of honor outside Fairel’s tomb. As if in protection.

Fairel was a rune-smith, one of the greatest who ever lived. Mythal might have worked with Fairel toward some common goal, relying on his skills to make devastating weapons, runic keys for hidden places, or repositories of knowledge best kept secret. She might have protected Fairel as a respected friend and ally.

Reaching a little deeper, Mythal may have helped separate the ancient dwarves from the hivemind control of the titans, freeing them to create their own vibrant society, far from the “witless, soulless” existence they lived as drone-like workers.

(As an interesting aside, Fairel wrote about dragons, proving that dragons, dwarves, and the Evanuris existed at the same time)

It just seems like the root of this unfolding elven lore is the Titans themselves, the life they created in the dwarves and the tangible world, the innate power of their blood, and the knowledge that was stolen from them. Why don’t dwarves feature more heavily in the anthology?

That’s it. That’s my tinfoil haberdashery at the moment. Thoughts? Corrections?

#dragon age #tevinter nights spoilers #tevinter nights #dragon age meta #DAMN #long post

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jennifercrowart · 4 years

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D&D Diary - The Yawning Rodent, 2

Refresher: After meeting the friendly ratfolk of the Yawning Rodent tavern and the Rat's Nest, and travelling through the Underdark caves and fighting off a few twig blights and giant spiders, our adventurers Lugs (grung Barbarian), Lurks (grung Rogue), Aelia (tiefling Cleric) and Valas (drow Sorcerer) have arrived at the foot of the Sunless Citadel.

Sunless Citadel spoilers!

The party stands in front of the courtyard of the Sunless Citadel. Lurks heads through it first while the others hold back, and he dextrously makes his way through all the rubble. When he reaches the front door of the citadel, he suddenly falls through a trapdoor! In the pit is a few goblin skeletons, and a fresher goblin corpse being picked away at by a giant spider, which he dispatches with one slice of his dagger. After Lurks takes some coins, a scimitar for himself, and a shield for Lugs from the fresh body, Lugs hurries over and leans into the pit with his club to offer him a way to climb out (considering he's only 3-4 feet tall in the 10 foot pit). Remembering that he's a frog, Lurks just does a straight 15 foot vertical jump out and lands next to him.

The party edges around the newly-discovered trapdoor, and into the citadel's first room: the floor of a circular tower. More dead goblins are here, with one of them skewered to the wall, and all the bodies have already been looted. There's a door to the left and a door to the right, and Lurks quickly looks over them for any traps or locks, but they're fine.

The party splits up to find that the right door leads into a hallway with three more doors ahead, and the left door leads into a room with a single stone door sporting an ornately carved rearing dragon on it, a keyhole in its mouth. The rooms so far have been as dark as the caves outside, and littered with rubble and cobwebs - Lugs and Lurks keep relying on their stock of torches, while Aelia and Valas cope alright with their darkvision.

Lurks, with Aelia, tries to pick the left room's dragon door, but can't quite get it. Lugs, with Valas in the hallway, tries one of the doors to find an empty dead-end room, and another door that's also made of stone, with a carving of a swimming fish-like dragon on it. With this second dragon door also locked, he tries to punch it down, but just ends up with a sore hand. Lurks and Aelia regroup with them in the hallway, and Lurks has a go at picking this dragon door too, but his pick easily snaps. He unfurls his set of tools and squints, saying that his mismatched set of twig lockpicks "worked on the doors back home" but don't seem to cut it in here.

The party tries the third and last door at the end of the hallway, finding it unlocked. Inside is a larger open room with a small fire pit, bedroll, and a large empty cage in the floor with bars that have been wrenched open. Green paint is all over the floor and walls, in a written language that none of them can understand. Whimpering sounds are coming from the bedroll, with something tossing and turning restlessly inside. When the party talks as normal, the thing inside it seizes up, as though trying to be as still as possible. Lugs tips the bedroll upside down, and out slides a skinny-looking kobold covered in scars, who had been sleeping inside.

Terrified and confused by this sudden awakening, the kobold starts begging for his life, saying that his name is Meepo. Aelia manages to calm him down saying they're not here to hurt him, while Lurks investigates the cage and finds some white dragon-like scales that seem to have been scraped off when whatever was once inside the cage squeezed through the wrenched-open bars. Meepo sees the scales in his hands and starts crying out in distress that his gang's beloved dragon had been stolen by the rival Goblin Gang while he was taking a piss, and begs the adventurers to get her back in exchange for his leader, Yusdrayl, answering the questions Aelia and Lurks had tried asking him about the Sunless Citadel.

Before he leads them to Yusdrayl, Valas asks if Meepo can tell them where the doors branching from this room go. He explains that behind one door is where they would keep the dragon's food, and Valas nervously asks, "is it still... living?" to which Meepo replies that of course it is, "because live feeding is great and ethical". Valas awkwardly quips under his breath that he's heard otherwise, but politely thanks him for the information. Through another door is a way to the goblin gang's territory, and through yet another door is one of the Kobold Gang's guardrooms. He also explains that the painted writing around the room says "Here There Be Dragons", but, sniffling, he sadly picks up his paint and brush to correct it to "Here There Don't Be Dragons".

Aelia asks if they can go into the guardroom, and Meepo comments that that's a bit weird, unsure why she'd want to. Eventually she convinces him, and he shouts, "ticklecorn! Let us in!" at the door. After a moment, the door opens to reveal three kobold guards playing a card game by a fire pit. Aelia asks them a few questions, but they're not very cooperative.

"Where were you when the dragon was stolen?" "Uh... I don't know, having a piss." "Why don't you go get it back?" "Erm... then... who would guard this place?" "Are there more guards?" "Well, yeah........ but...... ehhh..."

Finding the guards useless, the group has Meepo take them to where Yusdrayl, the Kobold Gang leader, is sitting in a stone dragon throne at the end of a large hall. She's dressed in robes with a ring on one of her hands, and in front of a small pile of treasures. Aelia, with GP signs in her eyes, tries to make a deal with her, as Aelia favours gold over dragons, and Yusdrayl favours her dragon over gold. After a bit of bargaining, the party strikes a deal with her to find their dragon in exchange for four of the treasures from her pile, with the first one in advance. They choose the mysterious-looking key that's in the mouth of the stone dragon - the Kobold Gang hasn't been occupying the citadel long enough to have found out which door it opens, focusing more on taking and holding their territory from the Goblin Gang. Meepo is to go with them to find the dragon, as he's the gang's 'keeper of dragons'.

Before they leave, Lurks introduces himself to Yusdrayl and treats her with reverence, offering his hand out to her. Yusdrayl awkwardly shakes his hand, and he slyly inspects the ring on her finger; he decides that the simple silver ring is not worth enough to pickpocket from her at this time. He asks her about the magical fruit they'd heard about coming from here - a piece of fruit that's been conflictingly said to both cure any illness and drain the life of those who eat it. She says that she knows the strong new leaders of the Goblin Gang work for someone called the Outcast, who lives below where they are now. Once every 6 months or so, they give the goblins a strange piece of fruit to go sell on the surface.

The party departs from the heart of the Kobold Gang Territory. When he leads them in and out if it, Meepo yells "ticklecorn" every so often. When asked what he's doing, he explains that it's a password to let the guards in rooms off the hallways know that they're allies passing through, not strangers or the Goblin Gang.

Theorising that their new key could open the first stone dragon door they found, the party already detours from going into the Goblin Gang's territory to look for the dragon and goes to test their theory. The key fits the lock perfectly, and from all the dust and stale air, it opens up to a room that hasn't had anyone set foot in it in ages. There's a row of dull broken orbs, and one intact glowing one. Lugs steps right up to it, and it starts playing haunting music that charms the whole party, sending them running back through the citadel's rooms and out the front door against their will - right into the trapdoor pit. Lugs, Lurks, and Valas manage to overcome the charm, and while Valas helps Aelia and Meepo climb out of the pit, the other two go back to the orb room so Lugs can smash it and stop the music.

Lugs, again, rushes first into the next hallway, stepping on a pressure plate that sends an arrow flying over his head. Lurks easily disarms the trap, and they carry on to the next room, which is seemingly a dead end. Aelia finds a secret door recessed into the wall, and as she's inspecting it, Lurks approaches the large, beautiful dragon statue off to the side. In Common, it speaks a riddle:

"We come at night without being fetched; we disappear by day without being stolen. What are we?"

Valas answers, "the stars", and the secret door opens into a long room. The first half of the room has five statues of elves across six small alcoves, and the second half of the room is cut off by a pit of spikes that's 10 feet deep and 10 feet wide, which Lugs and Lurks quickly leap over with their froggy legs. Aelia, Valas, and Meepo warily stay on the other side, while the other two find a large sarcophagus, lit by a sconce holding green fire. Suddenly, a quasit - a bipedal insect-looking creature - comes out of the shadows, and casually warns Lugs to leave (while Lurks quickly ducks behind a pot as tall as he is). As Lugs can't understand Common, he just throws a thumbs up and a grin, and starts talking in Grung. While the quasit is confused, Lurks leaps out and attacks with his dagger and scimitar, and Aelia on the other side of the spike pit deals the finishing blow with a quick Toll the Dead spell. The quasit swears out of shock and anger as he melts into a puddle of steaming goo.

Meanwhile, Valas inspects the first half of the room, and finds that the empty sixth alcove has a secret door. Inside is a small room, with more of that draconic writing on the wall that they saw in the Kobold Gang's dragon keeper room. Asking Meepo to read it, it says, "A dragonpriest entombed alive for transgressions of the Law still retains the honour of his position."

Accidentally (and, I mean, who can really say who's at fault?), Meepo then comments, "Oh boy, Meepo hopes this has nothing to do with that creepy troll in the-"

A beat, and then he blankly turns to the camera. "Meepo has revealed the secrets of the game. Now you have to die." He unzips, and out steps me, with one of those Men In Black memory wipers. Flash!

Anyway, Lugs uses his brute strength to start snapping the six rusted clasps holding the sarcophagus' lid in place. When he runs out of strength for the last one, he just lies down on the floor, depressed. Lurks tries to make him feel better, but Lugs wins the pep talk vs depression contest, so Lurks sticks his finger up his nose, claiming that "this usually cheers him up". Now channeling his depression into fury, Lugs goes into a rage and busts the last clasp, sending the sarcophagus lid sliding across the room along with his brother Lurks.

Inside the sarcophagus is an emaciated troll, whose eyes snap open!!!!!!! Dun dun dunnnn.....

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #dungeons & dragons #dm diary #dungeon master #the yawning rodent #the sunless citadel

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jae-bummer · 7 years

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Stay the Night

Request: 5/6/14 for Wonho (monstax)

5) “You’re the only one I trust to do this.” 6) “My nightmares usually involve losing you.” 14) You and your bias have been broken up for over a year when he shows up on your doorstep

Member: Monsta X’s Wonho x Y/N

Type: angst

Warning: Mention of Psychology and Hypnosis (**i am neither a psychologist nor hypnotist, but just a writer doing some cool things with words)

You leaned wearily into your door, your feet angry with you from your day of standing. When you had decided to move to Korea, it seemed like you had your whole life in front of you. You had all of the time in the world to fall in love, make mistakes, and figure yourself out. Unfortunately, with the passing of time came the passing of ambition, and you were just as lost now as you had been when you first set out.

You pushed your key into the lock, leaning in gently with your shoulder as the door creaked in front of you without even turning the knob. You furrowed your brows, your body freezing up as the blood turned cold in your veins. You could have sworn you locked the door when you left for your shift, just as you did every morning before work or class. You licked your lips and tried to calm your breathing, attempting to think the situation through. You were a Psychology major after all.

Maybe you had locked it, but forgot to pull the door completely shut on the way. It was an old apartment building after all, so maybe the doors were bowed and it wouldn’t secure sometimes either. A million different thoughts ran across your mind as you stood there in the night’s silence, but one blinking light in your mind’s eye remained.

Intruder.

As quietly as you could, you palmed your keys, placing one between each knuckle. You nodded to yourself as you had emergency services queued up on your phone screen and ready to go. Why would an intruder target a relatively poor barista/student in an entire building full of young professionals and established couples. It couldn’t be a break in...could it?

The sound of your blood pumping filled your ears and your stomach flopped with nervous energy. You thought about the subject you had last learned in one of your classes; The Bystander Effect, and how if a neighbor heard you struggle with an intruder, there was a high probability that they wouldn’t call for help, as they thought another neighbor would.

You winced as you took a shaky step into the doorway of your apartment, leaning around a banister to see a warm light flooding out of the living area. You never left anything on. Mostly because of electricity fees, but also because you were immensely paranoid about fire hazards.

You closed your eyes, silently cursing yourself for even entering your apartment. You’ve seen horror movies. It never ends well in situations similar to this. You took Abnormal Psych, you knew how sick people could be.

You quietly tiptoed across the hardwood, stretching to get a visual of your living room. You were confused for a moment as you made contact with a messy mop of bleach blonde hair and dark eyes. A handsome face sitting atop a pair of broad shoulders brooded on the edge of your couch, his body slumped forward and fingers fidgeting with one another.

“Hoseok?” you breathed, standing up straight and emerging from behind a wall.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his eyes wide as he looked up. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Fancy seeing me...” you trailed, scrunching your face. You felt a fire ignite in your stomach, signaling your annoyance and anger. “No Hoseok, not fancy seeing me. You say that to someone who you bumped into at the coffee shop, not someone whose home you have broken into!”

“Technically I used the emergency key you keep under that mat,” Hoseok hummed quietly, looking down to the floor.

“I could’ve called the police!” you gasped, dropping your bags. “How could you do something so stupid?”

“Well, I thought about how stupid it was once I got in,” he mumbled. “But once I came in, I couldn’t very well go out. That would’ve been even creepier.”

“Creepy is actually thinking it was okay to use my spare key considering you’ve been MIA for the past year of my life,” you spluttered. “What the hell?”

“I understand you’re upset,” he said slowly, his face still showing obvious fear and and some amount of hurt. “But I just...I just...”

“You just what?” you groaned, flopping onto the opposite couch.

“Need you to do something,” he whispered, finally looking up at you.

You blew at a tuft of hair that had fallen onto your forehead and sighed as you directed your attention to him as well. Admittedly, you had always had a soft spot for Hoseok. It had been nearly a year since you had seen him last, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t check up on him in all of that time.

Hoseok, or at least the Hoseok that you had known and loved, was fragile. He felt immense things and had difficulty holding in his emotions at times. When you had finally decided to break up due to schedule differences, it was rough for him. It was a difficult time for you as well, but you had to hold it together. You were on your own and couldn’t halt your life for a man who had broken your heart without even trying to. You had to teach Hoseok that it was okay to move on as well.

You analyzed his familiar face, now painted in a much dimmer light than you had ever remembered seeing it. You sucked in your lip, biting it anxiously as your gaze traced across his prominent jawline and up toward the eyes you could stare into for hours. Just above them sat his perfectly manicured brows, knit with some sort of worry you weren’t aware of. And just below, hid deep bags, evident markers of the lack of sleep he had been getting.

“You look like shit,” you muttered.

“Not used to hearing that one,” he chuckled nervously.

“What do you need?” you sighed, letting your head fall into your hands. “Also what makes you think I’m the one you need it from?”

“I know it’s been...awhile since I last talked to you,” he said slowly, wincing as he spoke.

“Understatement of the year,” you spat. “We haven’t talked in months...but continue.”

“You haven’t switched majors...have you?” he said quietly and so quickly you almost didn’t catch it.

“Nope, I only have a semester left until I start applying for Doctoral programs,” you muttered. “Why?”

“Um...so...I know we were broken up...but did you ever see the program that we were on with the Psychologist?” Hoseok continued.

Of course you had. You had quite literally watched everything they had appeared on, but he wouldn’t know that.

“No,” you grumbled spitefully, even knowing you had.

“Oh...well...”he hummed, his confidence plummeting even lower than before. It broke your heart to see, and you were unsure as to why you were being so difficult. “They brought in this psychologist...and uh, he put Shownu and Jooheoney under hypnosis and-”

“No Hoseok,” you hummed, not even allowing him to go further. You knew where this was going and you didn’t like it.

“Come on,” he groaned. “I know you were interested in it and even saw you practice a few times. I’ve heard it helps.”

“Hoseok, I don’t have my license. Hell, I’m not even a Doctor yet. What if something goes wrong. What if-”

“I’m desperate,” he squeaked. “And you’re the only one I trust to do this.”

“How are you desperate?” you argued. “Why do you need to be hypnotized? I can’t help you figure out your past lives or-”

“Hey, you said you didn’t see the episode...” Hoseok pouted.

“Yeah, well, we’ve both said a lot of things in our time together,” you muttered.

Hoseok bit his lip and sighed. “I can’t sleep...and it’s starting to effect how I’m performing on stage and in practices. My music is all I have Y/N...you have to help me.”

It was all you have because you decided for it to be that way, you hissed internally. You could never verbalize the words. Not only would they hurt his feelings, but yours as well.

“I can’t,” you insisted. You knew how desperate he had to have been in order to reach out to you, to show up to your apartment tonight. The bags beneath his eyes were as dark as the stone washed denim he wore. Maybe you had an obligation to help him.

“Please.”

You groaned as you pulled yourself from your sitting position and stomped across the living area. You dimmed the light beside the couch he was sitting on and dropped to your knees beside him.

“Make sure your hands and feet are uncrossed and get comfortable,” you hummed. You shook your head, trying to ignore how bad of an idea this was as Hoseok adjusted himself accordingly.

“Thank you so much Y/N...I really didn’t know what else to do. I’ve tried teas, I’ve tried melatonin. I’ve-”

“Focus your eyes on a central point on the ceiling above you,” you interrupted. “Where a tile meets. Now focus on that dot. As your focusing, take a deep breath through your nose. As deep as you can. Now slowly exhale through your mouth. Let go of all your energy.”

You watched carefully as Hoseok did as you instructed, unsure of how this would go. You had studied some facets of hypnosis, but as you had mentioned to him, you were no where near a practicing doctor and could get into an immense amount of trouble if anyone you had classes with knew you were doing this.

To an idol no less.

“Begin to relax your body, except for your eyes. Focus on that spot. Everything outside that spot is going to become blurred. Now take a deep breath again and hold. Slowly exhale and blow away all of your tension. Good job.”

After a few more minutes of coaching, you had Hoseok near corpse status on your couch, deep in the stages of hypnosis.

“You are in control of how little...or how much you are relaxing,” you cooed. “Imagine a scenario. Imagine a place or a person who makes your entire being swell up and feel whole. Your heart is full. Your mind is full. Your lungs are bursting with air. Now take that, take how you’re feeling and contrast it. Now imagine what doesn’t make you happy. What makes you drag your feet as soon as they touch the floor? What makes you see the world in a filter of gray instead of the bright colors you long for? What are your stresses?”

Hoseok let a small moan escape from his lips as he shifted in the seat, almost stirring awake. You held your breath for a moment as you watched him, unsure if he would break from your hold.

“I’m scared of not performing well,” he answered weakly. “I’m lacking.”

“But why are you lacking?” you pressed. He furrowed his brows even more, his face near pain as he fought back with whatever he had buried deep down.

“I’m lacking because I can’t rest. My body feels like it hasn’t slept in years,” he groaned.

“And why can’t you rest?” you continued.

“I have nightmares,” he whimpered. “And they plague me as soon as I close my eyes.”

“When did you start having nightmares?” you questioned, feeling all of the hairs on your body stand on end.

“Maybe...maybe a little over a year ago?” he hummed, his head flopping to the side. “I don’t know.”

“We usually experience spontaneous nightmares when something traumatic happens in our lives. What do your nightmares consist of?” you prodded. You weren’t sure if you were prepared to plunge this deeply into your ex boyfriend’s psyche, but you were there, and you couldn’t turn back now.

“I don’t know,” he said dumbly. A thin layer of sweat was beginning to sprout on his brow as he subconsciously fought you, and himself. His breathing became quicker as well as he flexed his fingers.

“You do know,” you insisted. “What do your nightmares consist of, Hoseok?”

“My...my nightmares,” he stuttered. “My nightmares usually involve losing you.”

You leaned back on the balls of your feet in shock, jumping away from him as if he was a snake that had lunged for you. You blinked in disbelief as tears began to trickle out of the corners of his eyes and down his cheekbones. He let out a light sob, allowing the emotions he had chosen to secure behind a barrier to emerge before the very person who had spawned them.

You felt your own lashes grow heavy, tears soon peppering your cheeks as you watched Hoseok.

“L-losing me?” you managed, your voice shaking.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“Why?” you choked out, trying to hide your emotions. You had to remain calm. You had to remain steady.

“You are the person who makes me feel whole. I love music and I love Monbebes, but you are what completes that need. You make my heart full. You make me breath easier. Leaving was the worst decision I could make and that is what I dream about every night. Leaving you behind and letting that door slam at my back.”

Your jaw fell open as you watched Hoseok. The furrow between his brows slowly eased and his breathing was once again becoming neutral. His confessions were washing away the anxiety that had plagued his sleep schedule for so long.

“Um...now when I count to three,” you said, completely thrown from the mindset you should be in. “You will awaken and remember your words, but no longer feel burdened by them. One...two...three.”

Hoseok stirred and began to blink, immediately lifting himself from the couch. You leaned forward, grabbing his shoulder as he emerged from hypnosis.

“Easy,” you cooed, watching as he looked around, a dazed expression plaguing his lids. “You did well.”

“I...I’m sorry,” he hummed, shaking his head as he attempted to break his stupor. “I didn’t mean to make you feel...”

“Wanted?” you chuckled bitterly.

“Awkward,” he hummed. “You got it all...didn’t you?”

“Hey, you asked me for this,” you spat, immediately defensive. You would not be made to feel as if you went on an archeological expedition into the caverns of his mind.

“I know,” he chuckled. He gripped your shoulder and sighed. “Calm down...it was time you heard it anyway.”

“It...it was?” you whispered, this time your turn to be the confused one.

“I’ve only been ignoring how I felt for a year,” he smirked. “Whether you feel the same or not...at least now I can sleep knowing I’ve told you.”

You nodded slowly, biting your lip as you contemplated your next thought. “You have to be exhausted now. Hypnosis is no small amount of energy...plus your sleep deprivation on top of it.”

“Dead on my feet,” he admitted, swinging his legs over the side of the couch. He ran a hand through his perfectly disheveled hair and smiled sadly at you. “I guess that’s my cue to get going then.”

You watched with shortened breaths as Hoseok stumbled across the living area, the lack of his presence apparent as soon as he left the room. You swallowed your pride and whatever tears you had left as you sprung up and sprinted toward your entryway. You nearly slammed into Hoseok’s back as he slipped into his shoes, his fingers beginning to turn the knob.

“Maybe you should stay the night,” you nodded weakly. “And...and we can talk about us...about everything in the morning.”

“What if I can’t sleep?” he asked, tilting his head. There was a new sparkle in his eyes that hadn’t been there previously. You couldn’t help but smile at it’s appearance, but looked down to your feet as you uttered your next words.

“You can’t have nightmares about losing me...if I’m right beside you.”

thanks to @novaurora13 / @beesoo13 for the super unique plot idea and brain storming ^.^ go give her some love!!!

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ilovelocust · 7 years

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Kitten (Part 30)

Note: Thank you @witches-teatime, @dexjiothedarkone, @z-ayauitl, @distressed-fryup, @wonderland-s-angel, and @stressedstudent554 for sticking with me while I wrote this fic. Your comments, likes, and questions are why I made it to the end. Thank you!

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Keith tears off his helmet, sucks in a deep breath of cool Castle air. Adrenaline is still screaming in his veins. Pushing him to move move move. There is a lurch, the whole ground shaking just like his clenched hands, as the Castle escapes through a wormhole. The battle is over. They’re safe. He can stop now. He needs to stop now. He can’t. Everything is too closed in. The walls of the hallway feel like they’re drawing together, shrinking the space he has to move in, but his armor is worst of all. His chest plate is compressing him, making it hard to breathe. He needs to get it off. He needs to get it all off.

His fingers refuse to cooperate, clumsy on the release snaps. Slipping and sliding until he wants to scream. Somehow despite this, he still manages to claw every piece of hard carapace off. Throwing it far to the side until he can fill his lungs without feeling something pressing against his chest. Only then does he hear the soft click of approaching boots.

Shiro. Come to check on him. Make sure Keith isn’t having a meltdown, after his first real fight back. Won’t he be disappointed. Keith closes his eyes, reaches for that unobtainable calmness that will make his skin stop feeling like it’s vibrating with anticipation. Shiro won’t care he’s falling apart, but Keith does. He wants to stop and be better already.

He almost flinches when Shiro’s prosthetic hand rests on the crook of his neck, cold thumb rubbing against the skin right above his flight suit. He forces himself to relax, “I’m fine.” If he says it often enough, maybe it will be true.

There is an amused huff from behind him, “Really? Well that is a shame.” Keith’s eyes fly open. He tries to turn, but there is a harsh hand in his hair and the wall is rushing towards his face. Pain. Blackness nearly swallows his vision, then dancing spots of white bring it back.

He tries to get his feet back under him. The back of his hair feels like it’s being ripped out by its roots. He elbows backwards, but doesn’t connect. Kuro’s laugh is just as cruel and cold as he remembers.

A blow to his gut leaves him gasping, “Told you, I’d see you soon.” Kuro purrs. Keith can see him smiling at him patronizingly from the corner of his vision. The glowing yellow of the bastard’s eyes standing out particularly well. Kuro’s left both of Keith’s hands free. He’ll make him pay for that mistake. He throws himself at Kuro, feels the rip of hair from his scalp as his hands close in on the monster’s face. He’s going to gouge his eyes out, then beat his skull against the floor until it goes squish.

Kuro grabs at his wrists to stop him, but he has a perfectly good set of teeth left. Kuro’s the one to cry out in pain this time, as skin tears under his bite. When he’s tossed off, he takes a chunk of the man with him.

He rolls with the throw, ending on his feet. Spitting out the piece of flesh he took, he meets Kuro’s angry snarl with a bloody one of his own. He’s going to kill him or die trying. The only thing he’s certain of is one way or another, he won’t be taken captive again.

The sound of running feet catches both of their attentions. White armor with black accents, Shiro, the real one has arrived. Kuro barely gets his prosthetic arm up in time to block Shiro’s incoming glowing fist. Keith nearly continues the fight himself, before a stray blow melts a chunk of the wall. Shiro, Kuro, are always armed. The Galra metal as deadly as any weapon. If he’s going to join, he needs his sword, which is still attached to his armor a little ways down the hall.

He’s careful as he darts past the two. He won’t give Kuro the opportunity to make him the damsel in distress of this battle. The fight escalates on without him. He doesn’t turn back until his bayard is activated in his hand. Now he can do some damage.

Shiro and Kuro are not as evenly matched as he would have thought. Shiro maintains a slight edge, that if left alone would probably result in his victory. Assuming nothing changes. Kuro is viciously clever, though. Acting on that assumption will likely end in pain.

Keith waits, picks his moment. Kuro never fully gives him his back, but his lightly clothed side is on display. When both his arms are engaged fending off Shiro, Keith moves. Slicing, as Kuro dodges out of the way, cutting flesh enough to bleed but not deep enough to cripple.

Kuro tries to move to a better position to fight them off, but Shiro pushes into his guard and Keith harries him from the side. Until finally, Kuro doesn’t block fast enough and Keith’s blade slips past and buries into his gut. Kuro eyes go wide, chokes, stops. A glowing purple hand is coming out of his chest. Who hit him first? Keith or Shiro? There is no way to tell. Keith pulls his sword free. Kuro topples over backwards, a puppet with his strings cut.

The yellow in his eyes fade. Glow dissipating until all that’s left is dull grey eyes. Kuro has grey eyes. That shouldn’t bother him, but the face…without the Galra yellow, there isn’t a difference. Keith’s bayard clatters to the floor. The vibrations in his skin are back. His breath coming too quick.

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice barely registers. He can’t look away from the slack jaw, the gaping wound, the lifeless eyes.

A cold hand touches him, “Don’t touch me!” Keith shouts, battering the metal away. Shiro’s face, for the second he sees it, is shocked, but the corpse calls his attention back. This shouldn’t bother him. He should be happy. Why isn’t he okay?

Shiro kneels down in front of him, blocking his view. Kneels? When did Keith sink to the ground? He doesn’t remember doing that, “You’re okay, baby. You are going to be okay.” Shiro says quietly. He doesn’t try to touch Keith again.

Shiro stays with him as he cries.

They eject Kuro’s body into a planet’s upper atmosphere. Letting him burn away into nothing. It’s grisly, but Pidge insists they keep his arm. They know so little about Shiro’s, that having a spare to pull apart is invaluable. He can’t argue with that logic even if he wants everything to do with that monster gone from the Castle.

Night, rest, can’t come soon enough.

Shiro, dressed in pajamas, is standing in the middle of their room. He’s probably thinking of offering to sleep on the floor again, as if being alone ever makes anything better. Keith grabs his bicep. Dragging him to the mattress and shoving him back against the wall. He curls up against him and pulls a blanket over both their heads, making his own little world with nobody but Shiro and him in it. He still can’t relax.

Shiro pets his hair with his warm human hand. He leaves his Galra one sticking outside of their little blanket world for now. He feels guilty, but he still appreciates the thought. He squeezes his eyes shut. Shiro presses small affectionate kisses to the creases between his eyebrows and the corners of his eyes until his breath hitches.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shiro whispers. Keith shakes his head. He wouldn’t know where to start, “It’s alright baby, I’ll be here if you ever do.” For once, he believes him.

“Thank you,” Keith whispers back. He wants to bury his face against Shiro’s neck, but his nose hurts too badly from being banged into the wall.

“Always,” Shiro places another small kiss on the top of his cheekbone, “I love you.” Keith’s cheeks heat up. Shiro could always say these sorts of things so easily.

Keith peeks up at him. Shiro’s looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in his world. He doesn’t think, he just catches Shiro’s lips with his own. The kiss isn’t deep, but it’s soft and loving, like how Shiro always treats him. He breaks just far enough away to whisper, “I love you too.” His lover’s smile can be seen in the crinkle of his eyes.

He wishes eternity could feel just like this.

End Note: I’ll be releasing a complete version with all the parts in one post, edited and under a read more, later. Thank you all for reading!

Complete Version

#Sheith #shiro #keith #voltron #kuro #Kitten

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thorndale-industries · 7 years

Text

Ariadne and Theseus - Chapter 1

So yeah, here is the first chapter of my attempt on actual fanfiction with several chapters. It’s the start of Human Revolution from my OC’s, Gillian Thorndale’s point of view who is also part of the Illuminati. I want to cover the attack on Sarif Industries, how the scientist got to Omega Ranch and what happened during the 6 months between the intro and the actual events of the game.

I will post on this blog and on Ao3 as soon as I get my account. If you are not familiar with my OC, feel free to check her bio and Page’s as well, since I write in my own verse which sticks to the canon as closely as possible.

Dark, impervious rain clouds covered the city of London, and kept the old streets within their tight grip. They crept over the city like a menacing shadow, a dim guardian, whom concealed and prevented those bright illuminating rays of sunlight from reaching the ground. They were an unwelcomed harbinger with a strong voice, proclaiming their master's arrival, whom would haunt those who dared to walk the streets, knock on every single window, and ascertain that the citizens behaved and bowed before its will. Nothing would remain unseen. The white haired CEO stepped out of the old, wooden elevator, and knocked on its metallic frame with the remarkable iron ring on her right middle finger without making a sound. Five deep breaths, and she placed the old-fashioned black, unused, umbrella into its stand right next to the entrance. She had been lucky. She had been spared. A little nod towards the blond secretary, fifteen firm steps on dark parquet, and one gentle press against the door's automatic lock - this is all it took to open the gates to her own little liar: The outpost to her kingdom, unfolding to her majesty.

Her oddly coloured eyes - one blue as the ocean, the other shining like an emerald - glanced over the office with its grey and dark tones, which pleased her sight without any disruptive elements. On the contrary, it all merged into a comforting unity. Just the way everything was supposed to be. Old oil paintings adorned the grey walls, framed into gold and silver and an astonishing amount of books occupied the side to her left - only the rotating holo-globe casted some calm blue light. A room with a tale, a clash between new and ancient, but the ink of the history books had not dried yet.

With elegant and silent steps in polished black shoes, she approached the carved wooden chessboard and brushed her delicate fingers over the ebony figures. The black king and queen stood together, as they always did, never leaving each others side. There was a deep hope, a whisper, to finally get the permission to move some of those pawns - like a soldier with a nervous finger laying in the trenches as he had to observe the enemies move. But for now she had to stay patient and remain a silent watcher as she heard the clocks ticking. Soon, so she promised herself, the moment for the right shot will come and their carefully laid out plan will unravel itself, causing an avalanche no one could withstand or stop and no one was supposed to - they were the masters who watched the stones fall, piece by piece, and created the picture they desired. A perfect maschine in which even the slightest part worked in harmony with this others.

Her fingers twitched, ready to act - or perhaps it was just the loyal demon of nictone-dependency which decided to visit her once again. His claws buried in her shoulders - a friendly reminder she was not without marks herself. While the lean woman slowly walked towards her archaic timber desk, she took off the scarf made of the finest silk from her pale neck, exposing it, and threw the warming servant on the armchair across the room without paying attention to its fate. It served it purpose well enough; now it was time to dispose of it. A silent click, and the leathery cigarette case opened like a mechanical clam and revealed the little precious pearl in it: the poison the heiress longed for, exactly 7 doses of it. She placed a flawless exemplar between her blood-red lips, and the calming taste of exquisite tobacco on them stilled the hungry monster, pushed it back into its cave as it purred like a cat. She ignited a match without hesitation and the warm light of the petite flame brought the only accents to this monotone, cold place. For a short moment she glanced into it, fascinated by this display of controlled destruction she moved it to the tip of her life-donor, lighted it up and flooded her tainted lungs with the desired smoke. - causing a warm and welcomed feeling, especially as her eyes wandered across her desk. There it was: A plain silver plate, placed by her assistant, and on it an antique porcelain pot filled with the most precious liquid she could think of: Perfectly brewed Earl-Grey. Smirking with satisfaction, she poured her beloved drink into a simple mug next to it, drowned a sugar cube which weighted exactly 0.55 grams and let the heat take over her lifeless hands. The first rain drops gently knocked in her windown, a slow drizzle.

The woman adjusted her round glasses, checked her watch - 3:58 PM - and turned herself to her terminal to prepare everything for what was supposed to happen in exactly 126 seconds. The sky outside had the tone of the dead device in front of her. Like an automated worker, her fingers over the mechanical keyboard, typing in the commands she knew in her sleep and had used countless times. A routine, but one that secured the fate of the world. Their world. It just took a few moments of her time, just one drag of the delicious cigarette, to establish several secured connections around the world as the huge screen in front of her turned to life - ghost hieroglyphs, cryptic lines and symbols emerged out of nothing. Several faceless heads slowly took form - merely a shadow, the masked members of this private ball. But the holo-sensor, hidden behind a little marble statue of the infamous creature of Cerberus, remained turned off - no buzzing in three-quarter time to accompany this faithful event. This time she wouldn't participate, she wouldn't speak. No, today she took the role of Morpheus - assuring the rest of the world continues to participate the dream they dictated and like a mercyless guard she paid attention that no one would inadvertently wake up from the consensual illusion had been created with so much detail. The short-haired woman looked over her left shoulder and smirked as she spotted her black Belgian Malinois sleeping in front of the fireplace. Cerberus, guarding the gate to hell.

Now it was just a matter of a few seconds until the elusive meeting could start. Her own ID brightly flashed on the screen: uk.ti.22535. The CEO smiled once again as the other numbers started to join in, a series of soft pings announced their arrival like an old-fashioned door steward. The guardian took a final deep drag, let the smoke gently escape from her grip before squeezing out the cigarette. As loyal as someone could be, it took a short moment to take out their light forever after they have served their purpose.

sg.or.di.67892.

cn.ctym.99230.

us.un.09763.

us.dc.01776.

ch.who.03629.

ch.db.01120

hk.pi.02052

Splendid, everyone managed to arrive and the connections looked stable - no one dared to step in her marble with muddy shoes. It was the non-verbal permission to finally rest and take a seat herself. She hungrily took the mug of the precious liquid and sat down in her massive leathery armchair - it offered the perfect listening position for the conversation which took place behind her, and all over the world. She didn't need to see the silhouettes, something else demanded her attention. A deep sip, and the last remnants of unrest were drowned. Three clips, fifteen buttons pressed into her keyboard, and the precious files unfolded on her terminal. Connection established. Remote Access: Sarif Industries. Another click, and she allowed a special participant of the meeting to see the same data she glazed at. Now she could close her eyes - even if just for a brief moment. Breath in, breath out.

"Is everything in place ?" hummed a voice she was way too familiar with through the speakers - even through the distortion she added to conceal the true identity. For a short moment, she imagined how he must be standing in his own office , a cigarette rested between in his well-manicured fingers as he gazed at the stunning view of Hong Kong the holographic window revealed - like a king admiring his very own empire. A view she had the pleasure to see herself often enough.

"Almost." And there was the other Chinese metropole. The unnatural one, reaching for the sky as the unfortunate left behind suffocated on dust and dirt. A hive, where the drones did not matter at all.

"What do you mean, almost?"

"I have spoken with Montreal. The broadcast satellites are ours when we need them. A few weeks of discomfort and the public will be primed for our recall."

The Welsh woman did not look at the faceless icons floating behind her, who coloured her desk in bright yellow as they spoke. No, her differently coloured eyes firmly clung to the terminal in front it her, tinted in dark gold, as she eagerly read the classified reports and analyses she had waited for so long. There it was, the holy grail the whole world longed for, reaching out with their greasy dirty hands, like beggars who dragged on your pants and stained it with the pathetic hope that they would get your pity. Hoping you would spare a golden coin. But as soon as their crippled hands reach out for you, someone else will forcefully remind them where they belong before they can even see your face. And soon, this reminder would have to be made again as an unwelcomed person, one who seems himself as the messiah - the great liberator - stepped on the chessboard, although he was ignoring he corpses he was walking on. But he was fragile, like a house of cards - remove the core and it will fall into itself and nothing will be left if its former glory.

And they knew exactly how to reach these parts. Another deep warming sip down her throat, and her fingers ran over the cold keys again. "Have you seen her research?"

This time, she opened up a private text channel with the mysterious creature who head the great privilege to lead this meeting. She had to admit, she was surprised the Hydra allowed the disciple to step out like this. As she hit enter, she her eyes closed again and listened carefully to her partner's voice and to the others response . The world was quite, as if someone had emptied the hourglass just for this moment, before it would be refilled and run as usual.

"And the clinics?"

"We control their purse strings. They will do as we say." The ice queen left her ivory tower in Geneva and stepped on the chessboard.

Quietly the CEO took little sip of the Earl Grey and warmed her hands after this sudden moment of coldness. A shiver down her spine as the almost unbearable French accent rang in her ears. She would increase the distortion for that line next time. Ping and finally a response showed up on her second screen. "Yes." Satisfied with this simple word she smiled again and took another, deeper sip.

"I still think we should wait for the referendum." The diplomat, collected as always. His line appeared to be the most fragile, since he was calling directly from the UN building in New York. It was careless to call from such an exposed place - he nearly asked to be attacked as he showed his bare neck.

"We can't afford to wait! America's science board convenes next month." The Grand Knight aggressively proclaimed, like a crusader kicking a door in. The woman hasn't seen him in a while, she should pay him a visit in his castle again.

"But the mood among the delegates is shifting. I'm positive that given more time…" The diplomat nearly bowed in awe.

While the others still discussed the matter, a closed case in her eyes, the CEO opened up a report from the borrowed files from Sarif Industries's internal servers. A file that confirmed yet again what she and her husband had suspected for a long time and the world was about to get exposed to - like an highly infectious disease it would spread around the world and change its face forever. Unless they would stop them before it could even leave the lab it was currently located in. She could feel how her heart started to beat faster and opened the chat again. "She has found it. The gene sequence we need." Another sip helped her to control the little rush of excitement before she added: "But she is out of our reach."

"No, by going public with this discovery Sarif is forcing our hand." interrupted the disciple.

"The world will not change overnight just because David Sarif wills it. Besides, we can do nothing until our biochip is ready." The charming Hephaestus calmly spoke from his workshop in Singapore like an old mentor - the smith of this golden age who has created the impossible. How ironic his magical anvil was unable to create a cure for his crippled feet. The short haired always wondered if this man would fall from the Olymp one day as well.

"I thought you said you were close." There was it again, the arrogant voice of the Dragon from the east.

"Finding the correct nerve interface has proven more challenging than anticipated. Fortunately, thanks to David I now know where to look."

Suddenly the whole screen turned red, a minor alarm was triggered and activated the anti-hacking counter measures Morpheus, she, rigorously had programmed herself to keep those who dared to open their eyes and wake up from their dreams back into neverending sleep. Quickly she put the mug away and typed a few commands to see what was going on. Her heart beat faster again, a car rushing to an emergency.

"Intruder detected, secured connection compromised. Intruder has been blocked and identified: - auto.prog.plague.2213 - Hengsha - China. Affected connection: hk.pi.02052 . Secured connection re-established."

Cold sweat on her forehead, the CEO exhaled deeply out of relief, proud of her own construction at the same time. She left the protocol open, staring at it with a twitching eye, before she decided to take a deeper look into the threat. She was confident that she could trace the bot back to its origin, those who were brave enough to try forbidden fruits were often the mindless ones. Another cigarette was the right tool to choke the undesired feelings of restlessness . "Is she?" flickered in the private text channel just a few seconds later.

"Finish the talk, we need to discuss our next manoeuvre in private."

#//TI archives #deus ex #bob page #gillian thorndale

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