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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years

Note

I love how you wrote the s/o who struggles to stand up for herself 🥺 it was really good! I thought of something to build off of that if that’s alright with you. What if someone tried striking the pillar men’s very sweet and unconfrontational s/o? Maybe s/o did something as minor as accidentally bumping into someone. When they sheepishly try to apologize that person gets angry and tries to punch/slap s/o. Oh how I love protective pillar men 🥰

Thank you so much, Anon! 🥰😍❤ You're too sweet! It always makes my day to hear when someone likes my work! 😇😇😇

Oh boy, big protective Pillarmen? The absolute best kind of Pillarmen??? You got it, honey! 😘

Pillarmen (separate) protecting their non-confrontational s/o from being struck...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• Admittedly, Kars wasn't very "confrontational" himself.

• In his own way, of course.

• He thought fighting with someone for no good reason (or any reason at all really) was as meaningless as it was laughable.

• If someone ever approached him and tried to initiate a violent confrontation by hurling insults at him or even going so far as to hit him; he would simply roll his eyes and walk away.

• He had much better things to do than stoop to some foolish Mortals level.

• You both were best described as "two sides of the same spectrum" seeing as how you had the tendency to go out of your way to avoid conflict with anyone.

☆

"Oh! I-I'm so sorry!" You cried, stepping away from the large and scowling man who now bared an expression that was something borderline feral. His glare sent a knife straight through your heart, puncturing your lungs and leaving you gasping for air as anxiety washed over you.

You had been walking down the street, your shift had ended and you were heading to meet up with Kars at your usual meeting spot just around the corner. You had talked about going to go get something to eat or at least being Home to have tonight and you were focused on just getting there. The sooner you reached your Husband, the sooner you could go Home and put your feet up after a long work day.

Those plans suddenly got thrown out the window when a man rounded the corner the same time you had.

When you collided with him, it caused him to drop the iced-coffee he had been clutching in his hand; the majority of it even spilled on you, staining your workshirt and pants, and yet you were the only one apologizing here.

"You stupid BITCH!" The stranger snapped, advancing on you as he jabbed his finger angrily at the now empty plastic cup lying in the sad brown puddle pooling on the sidewalk. "I just got that! It cost me 5-fucking-dollars!"

You really were sorry! You really didn't mean to make him drop his coffee! Panic flooded your body and burned in you like a fire, the flames of it only fueled more by his loud voice, making your hands quiver as you instinctively reached for your wallet.

"Here! I'll pay for it!" You said quickly, trying to something, anything to placate the angry man before things got even more intense. "I'll-- I'll even pay for a new one!"

He, however, was all but pacified.

Your offer was cut short by the surly stranger full on grabbing you by the collar of your coffee stained shirt; you let out a strangled yelp as he hauled you far too close for comfort. You could feel his hot breath hitting your face and your stomach dropped, sinking like a stone going down to the depths of the Ocean upon seeing the unquenchable inferno shimmering in his narrowed eyes.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that and a lot more, bitch." He snarled, drawing his hand way back.

Your eyes instinctively snapped shut as his free hand swung towards you, hard and fast your, your hands flying up on pure impulse alone in an attempt to shield you from the blow that was to come...

But it never came.

After too long of a moment, much longer than the hit should've taken, your eyes opened to find the mans large hand still poised in the air.

It was now gripped by a much larger one.

Kars' brow was knit together, his gaze sharp enough to draw blood as he scowled down at the offending man who still had a hand on you; his Wife. He had been waiting for you just around the corner. He had heard everything that had happened and had definitely seen more than enough.

His grip was so tight on the mans arm you could see circulation being cut off. Any tighter (that being; using his only half of his maximum strength) and he would without a doubt shatter the bone of the mans arm completely.

He was only holding back on doing so for your sake.

You were frightened enough as it was and Kars wanted to spare you any further horror by holding back on destroying this disgusting excuse of a lifeform... just for today.

"Let. Her. Go." His voice was low and fridged, the words slithering through the teeth that were clenched like a vice in his mouth.

There wasn't even a trace of anger to be found in the mans face anymore; like a slate wiped clean. His face had gone stark white and his eyes bulged in their sockets as he stared at the God before him; not unlike a deer staring into the headlights of a car coming 80km/hr toward it.

The car that would kill it in one singular, instantaneous hit.

The hand released from your collar, leaving behind a stretched imprint of his clenched fingers on the fabric. The very second you were released, the Pillarman hauled the stranger roughly into the air by his arm, his feet dangling over a foot above the pavement.

Kars' lips peeled back into a snarl, fangs glimmering like knives of ivory in the light. If looks could kill the man (who was now whimpering not unlike a kicked puppy) would be getting slaughtered.

"If you know what's good for you, Human. You will get out of my sight." Came the command, this time the man could now feel the hot breath of the seething Pillarman on his own face. "Now."

A shaky nod was the best the man could manage.

Without another word, Kars dropped him and the stranger practically hit the ground running. Taking off down the street as fast as his shaking legs could take him, stumbling as he nearly fell several times; the only thing preventing him from doing so was pure adrenaline.

You barely had a chance to blink, let alone process all that just happened, when Kars was on you.

The Pillarman pulled you into his embrace, uncaring that you were practically drenched in coffee and still quivering like a beached jellyfish. His eyes roamed your body, checking for any injuries he somehow missed; he let out a breath you hadn't realized he had been holding before his lips found the crown of your head, his arms tightening around you.

"Beloved, my beloved... he is gone now. Shh. Shh." He murmured into your hair. It was only then, when he swiped his calloused thumbs over your cheeks, you realized you were crying.

"Let's go home, dear one." He said after a long moment of simply holding you in his arms and shushing you, allowing you time to get your nerves somewhat under control. "I'll make dinner tonight and we'll see if we can do anything about that stain..."

Esidisi:

• Esidisi laughed in the face of conflict of all kinds.

• Really, fighting with someone with reason or not was just something funny to him because he knew his moves (by tongue and by combat) could not be matched.

• If someone tried to initiate a fight with him, he'd just chuckle and cock an eyebrow.

• If he was bored (which was most likely), he'd have the greatest time simply toying with them; laughing and grinning as they attempted to hurt him.

• Sometimes he'd even enjoy giving them a good scare by doing something with his powers.

• If not however, he'd simply scoff and walk right past them.

• Other than that, he actually tried to stay out of any sort of conflict when you were around; he didn't want you to be involved or hurt, of course.

☆

It wasn't often you went out to a club but every so often you and Esidisi would take the time out of your busy life to get dressed up and go out for a few drinks and a dance together as a treat.

You left the ladies room with a smile, lipstick reapplied and your appearance straightened up a little. You looked around as you made your way through the scene, searching the crowded floor for your Husband to catch another dance or two with him before retiring Home for the night.

You stepped back in surprise when a man cut you off halfway across the room, a drink in hand and a tipsy smile pulling across his face.

"Hey there," he drawled, trying to be casual. "You're cute. You wanna dance?"

You smiled sadly; you had to admit, the gesture was kind of funny and sweet. Had you need single you probably would've agreed.

"Thank you, but I'll pass." Really, you had no interest in dancing with a stranger in a place like this when all of your dances were already happily taken by your one and only.

You were about to offer to buy him another drink or even just settle with just chatting with him for a while (a friend was always nice to find in these places) but the man didn't exactly appreciate your answer, despite the fact it had been polite and straightforward.

"Uh, excuse me?" He all but spat, his face souring into a frown. "Why not?"

You couldn't help but blink in surprise, taken aback at his sudden turn of character.

"Oh-- Uh... well, I'm here with--"

"Oh, that's bullshit!" He cried, cutting you off. "You just don't wanna dance with me!"

You grimaced, holding your hands up in a placating gesture as you backed away from him, trying to keep some distance between you two as he tried to close it by advancing.

The man continued to rant and rave, growling about how there was absolutely no reason for you to refuse him a dance and that he was a perfectly nice guy and a good dancer, not pacified in the slightest.

You were becoming aware of just how very drunk this man was and he was only getting increasingly angry with you by the second. Each time you sheepishly tried to explain yourself you were cut off and it only seemed to get him more and more riled up.

You REALLY didn't want to deal with this on a fun night out. Hell, you didn't like confrontations like this in general.

"Listen, I've gotta go--" You were cut off again, gasping as the drunk stranger grabbed you by the arm just as you started to shuffle away to try and merge in the crowd again to disappear from his sight and pretend this interaction never happened; his grip was rough and unrelenting.

The room was starting to spin; the lights, the music, the chatter was suddenly far too much, drowning you in a static of fear and confusion. The man was snarling something out at you but you couldn't hear it over all the kerfuffle.

Your vision hyperfocused on the bottle the man had in hand; lifting high over his head, swinging down in slow motion.

The bottle never hit its mark as it was suddenly plucked from the strangers grasp.

In a fraction of a second, the man was now grabbed by his free hand and spun around. You opened your eyes to find him in the grip of Esidisi, your one and only dance partner and Husband.

"Looking for a dance partner, are we?" He questioned the now gawking drunk.

Esidisi had been waiting for you where you had left him at the bar. Being as tall as he was he saw you leaving the restroom and decided to meet you halfway across the dance floor; however, he stopped short as he saw your little confrontation happening. After giving you a good once over to ensure you weren't hurt, thankfully you were just a little shaken, he inclined his head over to the bar for you to sit and calm down while he handled this situation.

The massive man full on grinned down at the drunk man in his grip, giving him a good spin around before pulling him in close. Just as he pressed him straight against his muscular body in an iron grip; the song shifted, hot and base blasted music blaring through the speakers of the club.

"In that case, you're in luck!" He chirped, chuckling at the strangers owlish expression. "I was just looking for a good dance partner myself and I happened to overhear you talking with my Wife."

The drunk man gulped, through his potent mixture of intoxication and fear he didn't miss the fact that Esidisi's grip tightened just the slightest bit more as he took care to emphasize on the word "Wife". The stranger let out a strangled yelp that went unheard by the rest of the dancing crowd as Esidisi strutted to the music, dragging him along. Any protests on your attackers part went ignored by Esidisi and fully unheard by anyone else over the intense beats ringing through the club.

Your Husband winked at you over his shoulder, bringing you some small sense of relief as you felt your fear start to slowly drop down from it's sky-high level and you made yourself comfortable on a stool to watch him and the drunk stranger.

If the man had wanted to dance so bad, bad enough to threaten you and try to inflict harm, Esidisi fully intended on giving him the dance he craved.

He was gonna dance with him until he dropped...

Wamuu:

• As any Warrior should be, Wamuu was indeed confrontational.

• However, his confrontation was only to an extent, per say.

• Like his Masters, he generally did his best to try and avoid conflict with a Mortal.

• If someone simply walked up to him and struck him he would simply stare down at them with a raised eyebrow, honestly amused.

• The hit would probably tickle the living giant rather than inflict pain on him.

• On the other hand, if that Mortal happened to cross a line verbally by deeply insulting him or plucking a nerve somehow, he was fully willing to duel them to the death.

• He was always willing to fight for you; regardless of the situation.

• He was basically your knight in shining armor for that reason.

☆

Working a 12 hour shift was always exhausting to you. Sometimes you couldn't tell what was worse; having a busy day full of orders or having a slow day where you saw almost nobody at all and were bored out of your own mind.

Today had been pretty steady, having boughts of people between lonely hours and thankfully, you were just 10 minutes until closing now. Your eyes glanced up to the clock on the wall, silently pleading for it to go just a little faster so you could close up fully for the night. Wamuu would be here soon to walk Home with you, he usually stopped at the Gym to get a work out in and kill some time before coming bye. Your walks Home with your loving Husband were the best part of your day, sharing stories and talking as you strolled arm in arm down the street.

You hadn't seen another customer in the past 2 hours so any cleaning or chores that needed to be done before the night was over was already done. You briefly considered starting to count up the till now so you could just leave as soon as you closed but that plan was quickly shunt aside when the door to the shop flung open, the bell overhead jangling loudly, and in stepped a customer. You resisted the urge to sigh, there was almost always someone who came in at the last minute and wanted a sandwich.

However, you put on your best smile as the man who came in approached the counter.

The mans face was already in a knot, he had huffy air of "I'm in a H U R R Y" about him and that alone was enough to make sweat prickle on the back of your neck. These kinds of customers could be the absolute worst, even more so at closing, and you prayed he would order something easy so you could close up tonight without tears in your eyes from being yelled at again by someone.

"Good evening," you chimed, smoothing out your apron as you set your hands on the counter. "What can I get you?"

"One meatball sub, white cheese, on Italian." He told you rather shortly, drumming his fingers on his arm.

A lump swole in your throat as you turned your gaze to the very empty meatball tray sitting across the counter.

Oh boy, here we go...

You sucked in a deep breath, your smile unfaltering. "Oh, um--... I'm sorry but we're all out of meatball. Can I get--"

"Then make more." He said curtly, his finger drumming only increasing as he full on glared at you. He also made sure to visibly roll his eyes as if you had said something completely and utterly stupid.

"I'm sorry, that's not possible." You told him, trying not to let your voice go down to the squeak it wanted to. "We're closing in 5 minutes and cooking more up--"

"Ugh, I don't care!" He growled. "I don't have all night, just make it!"

You were starting to shiver as he got louder and louder, "Sir, we close at 7. I can't, it's against policy, I can only make more tomorrow morni--"

You jumped as the man suddenly lunged and a yelp managed to escape your lips when his hand gripped around the strap of your apron, pulling you roughly over the counter.

"Listen to me, you dumb CUNT," He snarled, his grip tightening hard enough you could hear threads snapping in your apron. "Make the damn sandwich so I can fucking go Home! I don't fucking care about your policy! I want my meatball sub!"

You were breathing hard, your throat squeezing shut as he growled lowly into your face. Never once had a customer gotten this violent with you, not even on a shift where you were with someone else. Everything was becoming consumed in static, your heartbeat in your ears as you floundered to find something, ANYTHING, to say to get him to let go.

"I-- I--..." it was the only thing that could come out of your mouth.

Unfortunately, it wasn't what this man wanted to hear and it only infuriated him further.

He was screaming at you now, screaming so loud you couldn't understand him, only making you start to cry as you stood helplessly in his unrelenting grasp.

Like lightning, the mans fist curled and swung your way.

He would've made a clear slug across your jaw if a much bigger fist hadn't clenched around it, stopping it mid-air.

You gasped as you were suddenly released, stumbling and catching yourself on the counter before you could fall to the tiled floor. You looked up in shock to find none other than Wamuu gripping your attacker with one huge fist by the front of his shirt, making the man dangle in the air.

"You seem to misunderstand what my beloved here was trying to explain to you." The Warrior growled, the veins in his neck pulsing as he glowered down at the man who's expression had now turned to one of terror. "Normally, I would overlook ill-mannered Humans such as yourself but you have made a very grave mistake tonight by, not only disrespecting, but touching my dear Bride."

The man opened his mouth to say something, probably to apologize or to tell the massive man he would leave and never come back but the words didn't so much as reach his tongue.

Wamuu flung him across the room, as effortlessly as one would swat away a buzzing fly, and the man crash landed into the tables in the corner; knocking them over like a bowling ball would pins.

"You have 3 seconds to get out before I throw you farther!" Wamuu snapped, taking one step towards the man laying in the entanglement of fallen chairs and tables.

The man clamored to his feet before Wamuu could come another step closer, somehow limping and running towards the door and out of the building.

As instantaneous as that fight, Wamuu was over the counter and kneeling by you, cupping your face in his hands. You were still crying, curled in on yourself where the man had grabbed you and shaking like a leaf in a bitter Fall wind.

"My dear sweet little one, shhh... shh.. it is alright." Your Husband crooned, pulling you into an embrace so gentle it seemed almost impossible coming from him after such a display.

You only cried harder, burying your face in his neck as all your nerves finally let loose. Wamuu held you in his arms for a good long while, he made sure to turn the closed sign however before anymore unwanted customers could come in for tonight.

He fully planned on speaking to your manager about this and your safety here from now on...

Santana:

• Santana wasn't confrontational unless given no other option.

• Chances were, if someone tried to pick a fight with him (whether by verbal abuse or physical violence) he would simply walk away, not interested in the slightest.

• It was almost as if they were invisible to him.

• If they tried to strike, he could just make their body phase right through his like nothing or his body would just go to rubber right around their limb.

• He was never really in the mood to fight with a primitive unless they TRULY annoyed him.

• More often when that happened they would be come dinner.

• But if someone tried to start a confrontation with you; he'd be the one to end it.

☆

"Oh yes!" You breathed a sigh of relief when you grabbed a hold of the roast sitting all by itself on the refrigerated shelf, a small triumphant smile curling at the corners of your mouth.

You honestly feared they'd be fresh out, you were having some Family over this Holiday weekend and needed this for the dinner you planned on preparing for when they came. This time of year it was hard to get a hold of good stuff at the supermarket as shoppers tended to all share similar traditions and that meant they also shared similar meal ideals.

You couldn't be more lucky you got your hands on the last one, lest you'd have to drive to the other supermarket across town to continue your search and most likely be disappointed there too.

You had sent Santana off with the list and cart to grab the other stuff you needed while you headed for this important item first. Now all you had to do was track down your Husband and drop this into your little cart so you could be one step closer to going Home to prep.

With the roast in arm, you started off.

"Hey!"

Someone shouted from down the isle but you barely even paid attention to it, chances were someone was arguing with a worker or another customer (as things like that also had the tendency to happen this time of year); another reason you wanted nothing more than to get your groceries and get out of the store.

Watching two customers duke it out over food and menial things was probably as uncomfortable as being part of the fight... at least in your eyes anyways.

"Hey stop!"

Once again the sound of the shouting fell on deaf ears as you kept walking, about to round a corner into another isle on your sojourn for your mate. Santana was most likely somewhere around the frozen foods section, he had asked if he could pick out some icecream for the weekend earlier in the car.

You stopped short when somebody grabbed you harshly by your arm, yanking you hard enough to spin you around. You actually let out a yelp in surprise, your eyes snapping down to the well manicured nails that were digging into the flesh of your arm. Your gaze instinctively followed the hand all the way up the arm connected to it, until you found yourself meeting the intense glare of the woman grabbing you.

"I told you to stop!" She snarled, your owlish expression not hindering any of her obvious anger from spewing out. "You took the last roast!"

She pointed accusingly at the hunk of wrapped meat cradled in your other arm with a long manicured nail.

You blinked, a brief sweat was starting to form underneath your clothing as your skin burned hot, crawling under the woman's hand; you wanted her off of you but she wouldn't let go.

"I-- Well, yes there was only one left--" you began, trying your best to explain yourself (let alone get a grip on your spiking nerves) only to be cut off.

"Well, I need it!" The woman tried to reach for it but you pulled away, only to be pulled back by her; nails pinching your skin like needles. "Give it to me right now! I need it more than you do!"

You tried to yank your arm from her grasp but she gripped you tight enough to make you cry out. There were so many things you wanted to say but couldn't as they just got jumbled in your squeezing throat; you had saw it first, you needed it too for a special dinner, there were plenty of other places she could go to find one.

You really didn't want to quarrel with this crazy stranger over something as stupid as a piece of raw food, in a supermarket of all places.

"Let go!" You plead, not even caring about the roast or your weekend dinner plans anymore. You just wanted her to leave you alone!

One of her hands raised, fingers curling as she swung it down with the intention of clawing you right across your face... but her nails didn't find skin this time.

The woman gasped as her own arm was grabbed, the shock of it made her release you from her grip, and in one good tug she was pulled straight away from you.

Her gaze followed the huge, ivory skinned hand that dwarfed her arm, following it until her eyes met two sapphires burning holes into her from underneath thick crimson eyebrows.

Santana huffed through his nose, "Do not touch my mate, primitive." He commanded quietly, an order not to be ignored, however the surly woman wasn't done yet.

As quickly as it was lost, the scowl returned to her face and it was now directed onto Santana the youngest of the Pillarmen; not only was he your Husband, he was the wrong person to pick a fight with.

"Just what do you think you're doing?!" She fumed, getting right in his face rather than making the more wise decision and backing down. "Let go of me!"

Santana stared at her, not fazed in the slightest as she began to full on rant on about how it was wrong for him to grab her and that she would report him for assault (as if she hadn't just been violently assaulting someone herself) and she of course went the extra mile to add that her Husband was someone very important and he would be arrested.

It only made her angry all the more as the Pillarman just stood there, quiet, the very definition of disinterest etched into the features of his face. He honestly didn't care about her ramblings as there was no petty threat she could possibly make that would scare him away.

Her free hand lifted again and it swung with the intention of slapping him right across his face.

As soon as skin was supposed to meet skin, skin passed right through skin.

Now, the woman's angry demeanor crumbled for good, staring in horror as her hand simply went right through his face. Her hand was implanted right in his cheek, literally melded inside of his head, only the tips of her long nails were visible from the back of Santana's neck. She was stuck there, trying to pull herself out of him, the terror gripping her heart was the only thing keeping her from screaming to high heaven.

Santana never once said or did anything as she did, watching as he pulled and pulled to no avail.

Her whimpers slowly built up to full on cries of fear, Santana fully intended on making her feel the same thing you had just gone through with her. It was only until she was begging for him to release her hand from his body did he finally relent.

The minute her hand was freed from his face she stumbled back, almost falling and clutching her wrist as she fled from the isle and the supermarket itself; no longer caring about the product she tried to rip from you.

Santana merely exhaled, watching her go with a notable twinkle in one of his eyes before turning his attention to you. You were still pretty shaken up, thankfully you hadn't dropped the roast but you were nursing the arm where she had grabbed you and the imprints of her nails in your skin she had left behind. Wordlessly, he walked up and pressed a soft kiss to the cheek that woman had almost scratched as he took the roast from you, putting it in the cart right next to the tub of ice cream.

"They have been dealt with," he said, his deep voice sending vibrations through your whole body as he pressed you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. "I will never allow anyone to harm you, my heart."

#funnybunny #pillarmen #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #pillarmen headcanons #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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siebenschoen · 3 years

Text

the broken love I make to her

fandom: ikemen sengoku

pairing: mitsuhide x mc/mai, (implied hideyoshi x mc/mai)

warning: implied sexual content, suggestive language, unhealthy behaviour, self worth issues

a/n: this is part of my big, big draft pile and while I don’t think I’ll ever properly finish this or turn it into what I wanted it to be when I started writing it, I still like the parts I did write. so, I decided to polish it up until I was happy enough with it to post it - enjoy!

summary: mitsuhide gets the girl. and they nearly destroy each other.

She doesn’t usually stay. But tonight the idea of leaving felt strangely wrong. And so she remains, tucked beneath the thin blanket on Mitsuhide’s futon, bodies not touching, eyes staring far off into the distance. The moment calls for a cigarette like nothing she has experienced since she has jumped through time. A cigarette and a bed with a headboard to lean against. So she could sit there and give a bit more sense to her senseless staring - like a heroine in one of these dramatic European movies. Cigarettes after sex, she almost laughs, what a cliché.

She throws a quick glance at Mitsuhide next to her. His wild hair the only thing betraying his composed facade. She is sure that he would find it funny, if only he would be able to get the joke.

“Hideyoshi’s jealous, you know?”

“I do”

“Oh? So, does that mean our little mouse is going to run into the arms of her dashing hero and stop using me?”

“You weren’t complaining, last I heard.”

“Ah, but I was not.”

[...]

“He does like me, that much is true,” She chuckles, her lips brushing along his ear. “But how would he deal with my worst behaviour? He can barely handle me at my best.” She lets the words run over her tongue, tasting them, giving them meaning, before she lets them fall into Mitsuhide’s ear.

[...]

It doesn’t come suddenly. The weird possessiveness that fills him everytime he looks at her. It sneaks up on him, silently, on bare feet, overwhelming him before he has a chance to notice. He can’t help but feel like he has failed, somehow. It is his job, his worth, to know and notice things, so that this development escaped him is disappointing to say the least.

It doesn’t escape him, though, that there is a similar change going on in Hideyoshi. Mitsuhide noticed, even back when their dear mother hen still prided himself as Mai’s big brother. (Mitsuhide noticed and she noticed and for once that’s information he doesn’t know what to do with.) Hideyoshi does that less now. And the reason makes Mitsuhide’s blood boil. Calm, he tells himself, anger will do you no good.

So, he watches him watching her. And while he remains calm, he also hates himself. Hates himself for hoping that she might turn around and smile and blush for him. But Mai doesn’t, instead she walks down the hallway, off to see the seamstresses. The mouse does not love the snake. This is not a fairy tale, kitsune, a voice in him whispers. So, he walks past Hideyoshi with a raised eyebrow and a teasing smirk until the other man blushes indignantly, because that is what he does.

That night the door to his room slides open and Mai slips in, the same way she slips underneath his covers not much later as her hungry mouth devours his. And Mitsuhide delights in the fact that he knows what Hideyoshi doesn’t (not yet, at least). That their little chatelaine likes it rough. That he can handle her.

[...]

She comes to his bed more frequently after that, almost every night. And he teases her for her sheer insatiable hunger and basks in the fact that he can make her blush past her cheeks (all the way down). What does it matter that she avoids him during the day, when he has her all to himself at night?

But it is the delight he feels at the knowledge that she is hiding his - his - marks under her collar, that nearly frightens him.

(A man who has placed his worth in the shadows, should not seek to possess. For shadows can never settle, only wander along with the sun.)

[...]

It’s not that Mai doesn’t feel guilty. It’s just that she doesn’t let that stop her. And maybe, she wonders, that makes her a truly bad person. It also makes her realise that there is quite a difference between wanting to do something and actually doing it.

She knows that Hideyoshi has feelings for her. And she hates that she knows, because knowing makes her feel like she has a responsibility that she really doesn’t want to have. She also knows that she should talk with Hideyoshi, to let him down gently, to tell him that there is someone else if need be. (What does it matter, who that other person is?)

And she hates all this even more for the fact that there is a part of her that’s screaming. Screaming to consider, to think it through, because if she would just stop to think about it she would surely, surely realise that Hideyoshi is a great guy, loving and caring. And that she deserves to be with someone, who would never play games with her. (So, what if she desires the game?) But, ah, if matters of the heart could be so simple. If they could only be solved by thinking.

Then she would simply think her feelings away, the thought makes her smile. She would think Hideyoshi to not be in love with her. She would think Mitsuhide into an honest man. She would think herself to not be in love with him. Or maybe, just maybe, she would think him to love her in return. Her smile widens into a sad grimace. Putting it like this makes it sound quite tragic, does it not?

[...]

He is getting greedy. And that is always a dangerous thing. Greed is not meant for the ones like him. The ones who serve.

But the thing is, he can’t help it. The way he wants her, the pull she has on him. What is he to do? He is just a human and most days he barely feels like that anymore. He always suspected the crippling little part of his humanity that he seemingly does not manage to get rid of, would be his downfall. He just didn’t suspect a woman would be.

Well, he tells himself, it does make for a good story - a snake that finds itself a loving fool for a human woman and dies of his own fangs to please her. Maybe someone will turn it into a play, once all is said and done.

But all is not said and done. He still has a purpose, a master to serve. And he can’t rest, can’t fall, before the world they have worked so hard for can finally emerge - newborn and golden. So, he buries himself in work, in papers and missions. He eats little and sleeps less and vows to himself that he will send her away when she comes looking for him-

Only to find that he can’t. One look at his face - at the dark circles and tired eyes - and she is all soft and sweet to him and he cannot possibly deny her. Her fingers stroke over his cheeks and her lips flutter over his face and it’s all too much and not nearly enough at all-

And meant for someone else, he’s sure of it. Deserved by someone else. Oh, but he’s greedy. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Greedy for something that couldn’t possibly belong to him. So, he let’s her give and give, though it hurts, and he takes and takes, as long as she still let’s him.

[...]

Masamune is the first to come to him. Of course, he is. Nobody is closer to him than the one-eyed dragon. (Except maybe Nobunaga. But Nobunaga would never advise, he would order.) And Mitsuhide expected him to, because he is still good at what he does, still one step ahead. (She doesn’t count, he thinks. She’s something else altogether.)

“Whatever you two are doing - you should get it under control. It’s not good.”

It’s amusing to see the ever so carefree, ever so wild Masamune serious. It’s even more amusing to see Masamune so serious in his concern over him. A smile sneaks on his lips, uneven and twisted. “Perhaps such a thing would be easier if you were to tell me what has you so concerned, my friend.”

“You know what I’m talking-” Masamune scoffs. His one eye focused on Mitsuhide. Equal parts furry and concern seem to be trapped in the dark blue. “I’m not joking, Mitsuhide. It’s going to destroy you. Both of you.” The one-eyed dragon pushes past him. “And the lass deserves better.”

The words hang heavy in the air as Mitsuhide watches the other warlord leave. His cheek hurts and when he brushes his fingers over his face, he finds that he is still smiling. He doesn’t stop. It feels carved into his features. Instead he stares at the spot where Masamune disappeared around the corner, thinking: she does, she does, she does.

[...]

He is so shocked that it almost shows on his face. Mai lies beneath him. Spread out on his futon, bathed in the late sun’s glow like a vision. She lifts her hand to his face, stroking his cheek. Her kiss bruised lips pull into a soft smile.

He has grown used to swiftly burning fires. Too hot passion that roughly burns. (And he can barely keep from scolding himself. To grow used to something is to grow predictable, to grow weak-) It’s so sudden that it almost feels like a punch in the guts, when she repeats it. “I would like you to be gentle tonight.”, her cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink, but still she smiles. “I would like you to make love to me tonight.” She leans up and kisses him - sweetly and fully on the lips - and Mitsuhide swears a part of him breaks.

But he gives in. Let’s himself break and heal together differently so that all his crooked edges might fit against her soft warmth. And he loves her. With all he’s got, with all he is.

When morning comes, she has left. Her scent lingering on the futon like the faint memory of a dream.

[...]

Maybe she put a spell on him.

[...]

It ends how it was always meant to. Because this could have never ended well and Mitsuhide knows himself enough to know this.

He is kissing her in the hallway, when it happens. It is greedy and lovely, with her hands in his hair and his around her waist, and it ends with the sound of books hitting the floor. He looks up to find Hideyoshi staring at them.

From the corner of his eyes he can see that Mai is flustered and pulling at her kimono. This was probably not how she envisioned her afternoon to go, when she had pulled him into the darker corner of the hallway earlier. This must be awfully inconvenient to her.

He debates whether or not he should say something, something teasing perhaps. But Hideyoshi’s shock never lasts long and his anger has always been quick. So, when Mitsuhide stares back at him, he sees that there is really no need for his teasing - Hideyoshi is already fuming.

And he can see why. Poor Mai having been seduced by the sketchiest, the unworthiest of all retainers. What a shock. What an injustice. A smile etches itself on Mitsuhide’s face. Hideyoshi oh so hates injustice.

Mai gasps loudly as Hideyoshi storms towards him. He can see her attempting to put herself between them - always too noble for her own good -, but she doesn’t succeed and then all Mitsuhide can see is Hideyoshi.

Hideyoshi is slightly shorter than he is, but stronger without a doubt and so he presses him easily against the wall, collar clenched in one fist. The other, Mitsuhide notes, is trembling at his side. He will hit me, Mitsuhide thinks and he can’t stop smiling. Do it, a voice in him whispers and hopes that Hideyoshi can hear it, can see the dare in his eyes. Do it, do it, do it - please, please, do it-

He wants it. He wants Hideyoshi’s fist to collide with his face and leave him black and blue. It would only be fair, it would only be just. He is sick and tired of getting what he wants. He is sick and tired of injustice. So, let it end, he thinks. It was always meant to end after all.

Hideyoshi’s fist connects with his cheek, sharp pain and dull throb. And it ends.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen fanfic #ikesen mc #ikemen sengoku mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku hideyoshi #ikesen fic #my writing #mitsuhide x mc

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blind-alchemists · 3 years

Text

Meta-Analysis of the Rift Mage Specialization

I said in February I was going to do it, and it only took me seven months to follow through!

Anyway. Analyzing game-play elements for narratives purposes has become somewhat of a hobby of mine ever since I really got into GameLit. Then, I started "fangs" and felt that my fight scenes were boring, so I build ability trees reminiscent of DA:I's for my OCs. You know, as you do. During that process, though, the lack of banter acknowledging several choices struck me as odd. Especially regarding specializations. Especially when it comes to Solas'.

We’ll be taking a look at (in order)

1. Description

2. Codex Entry

3. Skills

a. in comparison to DA: II’s Primal & Force Mage

4. Specialization Dialogue with Solas

5. Conclusion

Disclaimer: I talk a lot (this post might have about 2.5k). And, I promise you, you'll be tired of seeing 'the Fade this' and 'the Veil that' at the end of it.

Description

“These mages draw upon the force of the Fade, either pulling matter from the Fade to attack or twisting the Veil itself into a weapon to stagger or crush their enemies.”

[source – DA wiki; bolding mine]

So, lore-wise, mages do ‘draw upon the Fade’. Sure. But do they ‘pull matter from the Fade’? Absolutely not.

Physical things and the Fade rarely mix well. Plus – this is mainly my theory – the way magic is utilized (the 'drawing upon the Fade part') requires it to pass through the Veil. Magic being a form of energy, and thus not physical, does not constitute to ‘pulling matter from the Fade’.

That's the first thing other mages (read: Dorian, Vivienne, possible the Inquisitor) should (or could) have referenced in banter/dialogue.

The rest of the sentence ('twisting the Veil into a weapon') is also highly interesting, since there is little known about the Veil. Nobody knows how it works. And, thus, nobody should be capable enough to manipulate it consistently enough to use it as a weapon. But considering it's Solas who gets this specialization - well. He knows the Veil well enough, don't you think? (Which is why I think Rift Mage should have been Solas' personal, individual specialization like Fenris' Lyrium Ghost, but I just really like personalized skill trees in general.)

However, having answered that question, connecting magic so closely to the very thing can be described as a “magical vibration that repels the Fade”, I'm curious about how it would work. Since, you know, mages are inevitably tied to the Fade. Wouldn't the Veil repel a try to manipulate it by a mage? Is using mana the same thing as drawing energy from the Fade? If so, it would be straight-up impossible to actually use such a method for any ordinary mage (read: not Solas). If mana can be used without the Fade, it would be possible, but is such a thing feasible? Can you switch between spells and Veil quickly enough without horrific consequences such as possibly tearing yourself apart?

Very interesting topic. Would love to go into it more, but at that point, I'd become subjective, so let's end it here.

To summarize: Rift mages do things (physically pulling things from the Fade plus using the Veil) normal mages don't do. There is also a chance, logically speaking, that no one else but Solas (or mage!Inquisitor) can accomplish such a feat without dying a horrific death.

Codex Entry

From "Power Bleeds: Harness the Flow." Your Trainer's words make one passage stand out:

There are no tomes dedicated to this manipulation. There has been no time for academics, only the practical—and not in a manner that mitigates risk. Power in a raw form has found an outlet, both visible and in ways that only we of arcane proclivity can sense. The risk is great.

An account:

From this page forward, these are the notes of Thelric. They began as the work of my mentor Julion, and I will continue in the research she began, as she cannot, because she is dead. The rift we were examining did not react well to her last investigation. We believed ourselves prepared for demonic manifestation. We were not prepared for how the energies we expected would be encountered. Well-versed in the forces that magic can produce, my senior was surprised by an alteration, a deviance. That which previously had to be coaxed is now a flood that must be staunched. The same amount in different intensity, quick to expose fault in the way it is accessed. She drew too much, expecting resistance. There was none, and her form suffered the brunt. Tread carefully in studies of new matters, for I cannot unsee the end of her.

Scattered symbols and sketches follow.

[source – DA wiki; bolding mine]

Apparently DA:I has a thing for hiding the true horror in Codex Entries and off-hand comments.

Here, we learn one key fact: The school of Rift Magic is relatively new ('no tomes dedicated to this manipulation'). I think it's safe to assume the possibility - and thus research concerning it - emerged around the time the Breach appeared. So it's new, people have no idea what they're doing, but it somehow works. A little like the whole time magic thing, funnily. (That brings me back to a lot of questions I have about the Veil: Just how powerful is it? Just how deeply is it intervened with Thedas?)

Reading further, the entry seems to (only) stress how dangerous Rift Magic is. Who would have thought! No, really, it's a fair point to empaphize. I'm not certain the Trainer and his previous teacher (or anyone else but Solas) know what kind of role the Veil plays in this, and so of course experiments are going to get ugly. The Veil holds a much greater importance than the people of Thedas realize.

And, in a very similar vein: The people of Thedas don't know much about directly interacting with the Fade through, say, a rift, which poses another risk. The wiki entry establishes two things in particular that are relevant here: Using spells (in the Fade itself) has unpredictable results, and one can draw unprecedented power from it while sleeping.

The codex entry cited above proves that. A rift is a direct connection to the Fade, and thus unpredictable ('She drew too much, expecting resistance. There was none') and that power is too much to handle ('her form suffered the brunt').

My theory is that, while a certain flunction is natural to the Fade, the Veil also plays a role here. Which I'm not sure. But it has one.

Personally, I wouldn't be sure the risks of a horrific death outweigh the benefits of power, but let's look more in depth at that!

Skills

Which brings me to the abilities themselves.

The first two you can choose from are Veilstrike and Stonefist. (Which I think should have had their names changed but, oh, well.)

Veilstrike: “You recreate your own fist from the essence of the Fade and smash nearby foes to the ground.” (Upgrades being Punched Down and Wounded Veil, but they don’t have anything interesting for this analysis. Note the names, though.)

Curious here is the 'recreate [...] from the essence of the Fade' part here. On first glance, it sounds like a rather ordinary spell, right? But it's not. That's just the 'hiding in plain sight for the first playthrough' aspect of Solas' character.

Mages do shape their spells with energy from the Fade (as far as my assumptions go). Maybe they can also recreate something. I'll give them that much. But the essence of the Fade - the inherit, unchanging nature of it - can't be manipulated by them. I think that's specifically a trait only Dreamers can have. (More evidence for my 'Rift Mage should have been Solas' personalized, individual specialization' hc!)

There is an argument to be made if this already constitutes for 'pulling matter from the Fade', but this isn't even the funkiest part yet.

Stonefist: “You summon a boulder from the Fade and smash it into your target, sending them flying.” (Upgrades being Shatterstone and Unblockable Force.)

'Summon a boulder from the Fade', you know, as in, bring physical matter from the Fade to the other side of the Veil. A thing that is pretty much unheard of. Remembers what happens to spirits when they pass violently through the Veil? There is an entire game dealing with that. (I mean, stones won't hopefully turn into demons, but my point is that bringing things through, usually, is not a wise idea.

Another thing someone could have commented on.

Passives: Restorative Veil, Encircling Veil, Smothering Veil, Twisting Veil.

Unfortunately, neither of these descriptions give me much, but they all have the ‘Veil’ component in their name, so that’s interesting.

Upon closer inspection, the Veil can function in a variety of ways: speeding up mana recovery, further weakening enemies, boosting your own damage. (Veilstrike being an example of a means of attack.)

Now, my question here would be: Do over mages notice changes in the Veil? Do they feel it shift and bend? If not, well, that's one thing. if they do, even subconsciously, I'd want banter. (I want a lot of banter, though. Just generally speaking.)

Pull of the Abyss: “You create a tiny rift that pulls enemies toward a central point.” (Upgrades being Shaken Veil and Devouring Veil.)

I can live with never hearing anything about everything else. Sure. But this one? This damned skill? You're telling me I read that the first time I played the game, nodded, and that was it?

'You can create a tiny rift-' I'm sorry, do you what now? After a good a couple of hours of learning just how bad rifts are?

And the upgrade names. Shaken Veil, Devouring Veil - is there anything this thing can't do, except for becoming more and more horrifying and giving me bad vibes ofr whatever DA4 will do with it?

Firestorm: “You summon flaming meteors, raining fire down upon enemies all over the area for the next several seconds. This ability consumes and is powered by focus.”

This one is ... honestly, I don't like it being here. It's an AOE skill, which does fit in with the rest, but it's fire and it seems rather randomly assigned compared to other focus abilities with a more personal note (Haste, Rampagne, Cloak of Shadows, Mark of the Rift).

Doesn't give a lot here to analyze, except that raining down flaming meteors is the level of (global) destruction I can see happening in the future if Solas isn't stopped. So. That's fun.

(It's the ultimate skill in the Fire/Ice tree in DA:II, or at least the ability there has the same name.)

DA: II Comparison

Nearing the end, I'll take a brief look at the Force Mage specialization from DA:II and the Primal base skill tree for mages. Both have some interesting similarities.

First, Primal.

Stonefist: “The mage hurls a stone projectile that strikes with massive force.”

It's only the name and the effect, honestly, but it is curious to see it in a skill tree that focuses exclusively on the elements earth and lightning. (Because Pride demons also use electricity ... yeah, yeah. I'm reading too much into this.)

Petrify: “The mage entombs an enemy in stone, leaving the foe temporarily unable to move. However, the target becomes more resistant to damage for the duration of the spell.”

This has nothing to do with Rift Mage, but in light of Trespasser, I'll just leave it here for your consideration. Petrifying people is neither new nor exclusive to Evanruis.

Now, onto Force Mage.

Fist of the Maker: “The mage slams enemies into the ground with incredible power, against which armor is no protection.”

The effect sounds like Stonefist (Primal) and Veilstrike.

Pull of the Abyss: “The mage conjures a maelstrom of energy that draws enemies to its center while slowing them to a crawl.”

This one is similar to the Rift Mage skill with the same name, so it might have served as an inspiration (or base).

Overall, though: nothing much to say here. Maybe I could talk more about Rift Mage being focused on crowd control, but that is probably for game-play balance. I could connect that to Solas' character and analyze every little thing to death. I'm not doing it, though.

Specialization Dialogue

Solas: You have begun practicing new magical forms. Interesting. You seem to be drawing upon the raw substance of the Fade, likely using your mark as a catalyst. I use similar techniques, although it took me years to learn that. Why did you choose such an esoteric area of study?

Inquisitor: (if chosen) I hoped that studying such magic would me help better understand the Fade.

Solas: While our fight affords little time for formal study, the wise can better themselves even in the midst of battle. Perhaps especially then. I hope your new studies serve you well.

[source]

Let’s go through this slowly.

‘You seem to be drawing upon the raw substance of the Fade-’ Alright, we’ve talked about that. Makes sense he’d comment on it. ‘likely using your mark as a catalyst’ Sorry? The Inquisitor is doing what? I’m not saying it’s not possible, I’m just saying it might not be an overly smart idea to use the Anchor in that way. Because it’s attached to the Inquisitor’s arm. And because the Inquisitor knows what happens if it snaps out of control. So, purposefully doing something that might cause you agonizing pain? Mh. Yeah. No, thanks.

Also. The 'drawing upon the raw substance of the Fade' part makes me think that the Anchor does give the Inquisitor Dreamer-like abilities. Forcefully, and possibly difficult to control, and the Inquisitor might not be aware of it, but. That would be an interesting aspect to explore.

‘I use similar techniques, although it took me years to learn that’. Well. Yeah. Mostly a sound response, except I’m not really sure it's true. Why does he say years? Because he didn’t go right to sleep after creating the Veil, or because he studied such methods theoretically beforehand? I doubt he refers to the time Inquisition spans, because it’s not that long, cannocially, (isn't it like ... a year? I forget what the devs said), but … I don’t know. It doesn't sit right with me. Solas never truly outright lies, so there is probably some merit in it.

‘Why did you choose such an esoteric area of study?’ That’s … an interesting way to ask. Sure, there is a very small group who has this specialized knowledge, but it feels a little like deflection.

The rest of the conversation doesn’t give much for me to analyze.

Conclusion

TL;DR: There should have been banter. Or Rift Mage should have been a personalized, individual specialization.

Pull of the Abyss is the funkiest skill in the entire game, from a meta-perspective, because tearing a hole into the Veil is the opposite of what the Inquisitor is trying to do.

There are also many more questions than answer to take away from this regarding the Veil and the Fade and how Solas manages not to blow his cover, but I believe there are theories about at least the two former points out there.

I thank you very much for bearing with me for this long!

#dragon age #dragon age meta #meta #rift mage #solas #analysis #rift mage specialization #skill tree #ability tree #analyzing game-play-elements for narrative purposes #long post #even for my standards

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jeongyunhoed · 3 years

Photo

Past-Present-Future Black Dahlia

Two major tragedies bring Lee Mirae closer to the edge as she goes through the stages of grief in a more violent manner that would affect not only her relationships with her boyfriend Jeong Yunho and her half-brother Choi San, but also has her becoming closer with the immortal mutant Kang Yeosang. Fueled by rage, grief, and pain, along with a very rude awakening that has Mirae spiraling out of control and questioning everything she holds dear.

Group: ATEEZ Member: Yunho Pairing: Jeong Yunho / OC Genre: Action, adventure, angst, fantasy

Watch Out! : Violence, blood, death, grief and loss, major character deaths, use of weapons

Anything else? : Mentions of other idols of course as well as other characters. SuperM, Dean, Chanyeol, Zelo, soloist Park Jihoon to name a few.

Author’s Note: And we’re here in the third or second to the last chapter of the fic. Things are happening! Also, I’m sorry the fight scenes might not be as entertaining. It can be hard writing fight scenes. So, enjoy.

Masterlist

Chapter 9

Mirae and San were gaining the upper hand as they tackled Baekhyun and Jongin, Mingi putting in all of his strength to aim the fire from his lighter towards the robot, only for Taemin to redirect the flames back to him. Wooyoung transformed into his shadow form, knocking Ten off his feet. Hongjoong sped by, punching and kicking him, while circling the robot that looked like it was about to move.

“You took away so many people that I love, you should be grateful your family is still alive and well,” Mirae kept her grip on Jongin’s jacket as they were teleporting all over the warehouse.

“Thanks, I am,” Jongin continued to teleport them all over the warehouse, knocking over Yunho and Lucas, who were also teleporting all over the area in their scuffle.

A powerful wave of energy soon came from Mirae, sending the rest of them in different directions of the warehouse while the robot toppled over, accidentally activating the machine. She saw Taemin’s eyes begin to glow red as he kept his gaze on the robot that was coming alive, getting on its feet.

“Well, crap,” Hongjoong sped past Taemin, knocking him over with a forearm to his neck, breaking his gaze until Lucas pushed him, knocking him off his balance and sending him crashing into the old machines nearby.

Mirae brought on another powerful wave of energy, Seonghwa being quick enough to break the falls of everyone close to him while she targeted the robot. The impact toppled the robot over again, the machine starting to glow from the heat of the energy that it was absorbing. “Go to the streets!” She yelled, concentrating on taking down the robot. She could see Baekhyun, Lucas, Ten, and Jongin scramble to their feet. “Not so fast,” She sent a wave of energy towards them, wounding them as they fell to their feet.

Taemin got back up, his eyes glowing the same as hers again, only for the energy he put out to hit San, who seemed unfazed. “You’re not powerful enough to do that,” He said, engaging in another tussle with the male.

“Junhong, you better keep yourself safe,” Mirae said, her form almost glowing as the robot also began to glow as if it was being burned. “Go into the city, save as many as you can, there’s no telling what the robot that’s already out there is doing.”

“Got it!” Junhong gestured to Jongho, Yunho, Hongjoong, and Wooyoung. “I know a way out of here,” He said, and they ran towards another entrance.

Mingi flicked his lighter again, concentrating as he directed the flames towards the machine, pouring all his energy into making the flame strong enough to burn. The machine only turned red, absorbing the heat from the flames.

Yeosang sent another round of hexes while Seonghwa was engaged in a telekinetic battle against Taemin, who kept mimicking every move he made until Mirae knocked him over with a kick. “You think you’re the only ones who can fight?” Lucas got to her with a few kicks and punches, Mirae effortlessly dodging each one, matching his movements as the two of them were in a deadlock.

“Oh, this hardly seems fair,” Mirae muttered, headbutting the demonic-looking mutant to catch him off-guard, the two of them teleporting in every corner of the warehouse, each time they were reappearing, one of them having the upper hand.

“Come on, soul-taker, let me see the monster inside you,” Lucas purred.

“With pleasure,” Mirae’s eyes turned black, and the two of them fell over on the floor in the midst of the scuffle. She was straddling him, her eyes pitch black as she felt the male’s soul getting drained from under her, Lucas squirming and staring at her in horror.

“Not so fast!” Baekhyun hit her on the head with a broken piece of metal, Mirae’s eyes turning back to normal as she grabbed him by the ankle. Lucas crawled away, coughing as he stared at her.

“You’re-”

“That’s right,” Mirae’s eyes glowed red. “You want it, come get it,” She charged towards Baekhyun. “You and I have unfinished business.”

Baekhyun tried to blast a beam of light towards Mirae, only for her to block it off. “Could you really kill me, Mirae? Do you still have it in you? That killer instinct?” He taunted, both of them alternating in a headlock. “You and I are now even, you know. I killed your loved ones, just as you killed me to mine.”

“We are not the same,” Mirae groaned, sucker punching him only for the two of them to fly backwards as Baekhyun did not let go of her.

“Right, like you didn’t just throw a hissy fit earlier,” Baekhyun grunted, the center of his palm lighting up, and the lights in the warehouse flickering and the machine began to move, its eyes glowing red and blasting through the ground, the rest of them scrambling away in time.

“Someone’s losing their touch,” Mirae flipped him over, his back breaking when he hit her knee, making Baekhyun growl in pain.

“Hyung!” Jongin called out, limping his way towards them, only for Mirae to push him back. Jongin disappeared and reappeared next to Baekhyun again, touching Baekhyun’s wrist and the two of them disappearing before Mirae could make another move.

Lucas had also disappeared, and Ten ran up to Taemin, the two of them disappearing in a portal as well. “To be fair, we were up against a few teleporters,” Mingi kept his lighter. “But what do we do with this?”

“If there was a way to control this,” San looked up at the machine in front of them.

“There is a way-” Mirae replied, only for the five of them to scramble out of the way when the robot began to move forward, sending blasts of flames as it broke through the warehouse, bursting through the layer of dirt and rubble from above. The machine flew out of the place.

“Hold on, where are we?” Seonghwa asked.

“We’re in the place the Center used to be,” Mirae approached the broken down entrance. “We’re underground. They’re up there now.”

There was chaos. Roads were blocked, and cars were stuck as Junhong, Yunho, Hongjoong, Jongho, and Wooyoung looked at the mess caused by the giant robot that was practically destroying everything in its path while people scrambled for safety. “What do we do about that?” Hongjoong asked as they watched the robot wreak havoc.

“What Mirae said, get everyone to safety, then we’ll take it down,” Yunho said.

“I’ll do it, the rest of you figure out how to take that thing down before the other one comes out,” Hongjoong suggested, speeding away.

“The other one has come out,” Wooyoung said. “If we take that down, we’ll know how to get the other one, let’s go,” He transformed into his shadow form, almost slithering on the ground towards the machine.

“They just really had to leave us behind, huh,” Jongho looked annoyed, groaning as the spikes came out of his arms and legs again.

“We’ve been able to put everything back together after the Seoul attack. This time, I’m not so sure,” Junhong looked concerned.

“By the time this is over, we’d all be exposed,” Jongho said quietly.

“It’s not like this hasn’t happened before, but from the way things are going, none of you will be able to live quietly anymore,” Junhong warned. “Unless somehow things can go back and no one else gets killed.”

“It has to go back, as much as possible it has to,” Yunho said, seeing Wooyoung from the distance, his shadow slithering up to the machine, as if trying to strangle it. “Junhong hyung, help Hongjoong get everyone to safety, hack into computers or something, we’ll handle the robot.”

“Got it,” Junhong ran to the nearest internet cafe.

Yunho and Jongho ran down the road, catching up to Wooyoung who was already trying to tackle the machine in his shadow form. “You know, having abilities like Hongjoong hyung or yours would’ve made our job so much easier,” Jongho frowned.

“We never really had a choice, did we?” Yunho said.

“Nope. Lift me up,” Jongho walked a few feet back and Yunho got the idea. He ran towards the robot again, Yunho lifting the shorter male upon catching his step to lift him up. Jongho pierced through the shoulder of the machine only to get thrown off, crashing into a nearby car.

“Tsk tsk,” Lucas appeared, standing on the shoulder of the robot that now had a hole. “You know this had to be done,” He said, eliciting screams and gasps from people who had now seen him in his true appearance: Red skin, slicked back dark hair, fangs glinting in the sunlight, and a tail.

“Speak of the devil,” Jongho stepped on a few cars that were overturned to get to the robot again, Lucas reappearing and yanking him back in mid-air before teleporting away in a flame.

“You really can’t kill me, whoever you are,” Lucas looked down at him with a smirk on his face. He turned around, seeing Yunho already on the back of the robot.

“But I can,” Yunho climbed up on the other shoulder, both of them trying to maintain their balance as the robot moved around. “Let’s settle this, from one immortal to another, shall we?”

“In the words of your beloved,” Lucas took out a dagger from under his blazer. “With pleasure,” He said, and disappeared.

Yunho sensed where Lucas would reappear while eyeing Jongho, who was already climbing up, and climbed to the other side, using the arm of the robot to swing out of the way, dodging every strike Lucas made towards him in mid-air with his blade. “We could do this all day,” He said, kicking the demonic looking mutant away before climbing on top again.

Jongho pierced the head of the robot as hard as he could, feeling wires get cut from the impact of his strike. He saw Wooyoung’s shadow form slithering into the robot. “I’ll try and control this,” He heard the older male say.

“Good-” Jongho covered his eyes, almost falling over from the beam of light that almost hit his face. Baekhyun had appeared behind them, beams of light flashing from his palms, narrowing down as if it had turned into a laser. Jongho groaned as he felt the laser hit the spikes from his arm, and jumped down to charge towards him. Baekhyun blocked every strike Jongho made with a smirk on his face. “You’re not going to succeed.”

“Oh but we have,” Baekhyun broke the spike on his arm. “Try getting that fixed.”

Meanwhile, Hongjoong ran as fast as he could all around the closed-off city, moving men, women, and children away from the damage. “Please stay here, all of you, we’ll solve this,” He said to them.

“Are you going to save us?” A little girl said.

“We’ll try, but keep yourselves safe, run to the borders, we’ll take it from here,” Hongjoong nodded as he sped away, almost running around to protect those who were already walking towards the borders with the assistance of the police, who were guiding them to leave. He saw military tanks enter the area, followed by men whom he knew were completing their military service and holding guns.

Every step the robot took, Hongjoong felt a tremor on the ground, the tremors increasing when he saw from a distance the other robot from the warehouse, that was walking towards the one being beaten down by the rest of his group. He could see the figures of Ten and Taemin, summoning the second machine from their places in the middle of it all.

He could see one car getting overturned, as if a shockwave was coursing through the road, electric advertisements short-circuiting. Hongjoong spotted one car about to hit the family at the very back, and moved in time to kick it away, the impact sending the vehicle back in its place albeit with a very visible dent on the hood.

As he went back to running in circles to protect the citizens from getting hurt, Hongjoong stumbled and fell, getting up to see Taemin standing by. He got up to his feet quickly, racing against Taemin, who stuck close to him. In the midst of the two of them trying to outrun each other, Hongjoong ran past him, making Taemin stumble and fall to the ground. Hongjoong stopped, adjusting the blade that had emerged from his sleeve that had some blood.

Taemin looked down at his side. There was a cut. “You’re going to regret that,” He said.

“You didn’t see that coming,” Hongjoong muttered, speeding away to continue protecting the citizens that were already moving out.

Mirae, San, Yeosang, Mingi, and Seonghwa climbed out of the ruins and ran out, following the robot as it marched through the trees that surrounded the ruins and into the city. “Looks like the rest of the guys caught up with it, Wooyoung’s controlling the robot from the inside for sure,” Mirae observed the actions of the first.

“Jongho must have busted it open, but they should’ve taken it down by now,” San glanced at his sister.

“They’re there. All of them,” Yeosang pointed out, seeing Yunho trying to kick someone away while Jongho was fighting Baekhyun.

“Remember, take the rest of them, but leave Baekhyun and Jongin to me,” Mirae said quietly, staring at the male who was trying to blind Jongho.

“That was the idea. We wouldn’t let you miss out on the privilege, my dear,” Yeosang turned to her, then created a portal that brought them directly into the fray. They stepped out into the middle of the street where the robots were.

Mingi, sensing Taemin was near, took out his lighter, trying to fight off the robot. The flames somehow grew larger the more he concentrated, and he made sure to fend off Taemin with another flame that grew. Seonghwa’s eyes glowed green and he tried to concentrate, getting the robot a few feet off the ground.

“You think you can destroy that kind of machine just like that,” Taemin snickered as he got up, stifling a groan as the blood stain on his side was spreading out even more. “It’ll take more than that to get rid of what keeps it going.”

“And you just gave us the answer, tsk tsk,” Mingi shook his head, taking out his shurikens and throwing them towards the machine as hard as he could. The shurikens pierced through the legs and he jumped up, hanging onto its legs. Mingi climbed up and San did the same. “If only I could heat this up we could bust in and end it.”

“We can,” San’s eyes and fingertips glowed and he punched through the leg of the machine as the two of them climbed even further. He punched the leg again, putting all his energy into breaking through the surface until he noticed the machine giving off an unusual glow that only he knew. “We need to get off!” He yelled, the two of them jumping off as the upper half of the machine exploded.

San and Mingi covered themselves from the bits of metal debris that came from the explosion. “What’s that? Something else is inside… Shit,” Mingi frowned, seeing the machine put itself back together, as if it was being pulled together by a glowing gem. “It’s like a diamond.”

“Diamond? Mirae told me about that,” San looked up, seeing how the gem pulled the machine back, as if it had never exploded. “It’s the diamond, the diamond from that tree of life story Mirae told me, it’s real!”

Mirae had also seen the gem pulling the machine back together. “It can’t be. It really can’t-” She said quietly.

“The diamond of the tree of life. It does exist,” Yeosang looked stunned as they followed the robot, seeing Seonghwa, San, and Mingi run with them. “What would be our next move, my dear?”

“We take them down. I remember something about that gem. It’s sentient, it’s going to-” Mirae stumbled when she saw Baekhyun close by, as if chasing her. “Go! Take the machines down!” She yelled at them.

“My dear, you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Yeosang sent a hex towards the light-bender, who staggered back.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you,” Mirae got to her feet as Baekhyun quickly did the same.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you, and I need you to die first,” Baekhyun charged towards her, a beam of light coming from his palms.

Mirae’s eyes and fingertips glowed, the two of them caught in a tussle until she felt someone kick her. It was Jongin, who kept appearing and disappearing. “I’ve been dead before, but you?” She managed to knock away both males, sending them flying towards the other side of the road and crashing into cars. “You don’t know what it feels like.”

Jongin teleported away and reappeared in front of her. “Soon enough, you will be known as the one who caused that explosion at the Center five years ago, your face will be everywhere, do you really want that?” He said.

Mirae seemed unfazed. “You’re one to talk, causing this much damage,” In a few moves, she kept her hold on Jongin. “You try and teleport, I’m teleporting with you,” She said, kicking him some more until he was on his knees. She took out a deck of cards in her pocket, charging them as she could see Baekhyun run towards them through her peripheral vision. “Goodbye, Baekhyun,” She muttered, throwing the entire deck towards him.

The deck exploded upon contact, and Jongin looked up at her in horror. “You won’t be able to stop what Ino has planned. The diamond of the tree of life is in those machines and there’s nothing that can be done to reverse the process,” He said, almost in a whisper. “Baekhyun’s death is now on your conscience.”

“But the deaths of Jihoon, of Hyuk, and of Chanyeol are on yours, and I can live with that” Mirae stared at him, her eyes turning black. “I wonder what it would be like to see you as an empty shell of a human being,” She hissed. Jongin was staring at her, noticing that she took out a card from her pocket. “What would your own family think? Their son, their brother, their uncle, an empty shell of a person without a soul.”

“Do it then, soul-taker,” Jongin muttered, a look of horror evident on his face.

“You missed me,” Baekhyun had emerged from the smoke with a gash on his side, almost limping towards him. Mirae glanced at him, then let go of Jongin. “You think you could get me so easily.”

“I already have,” Mirae charged towards him, the two of them tumbling over on the road. Both of them matched each other’s moves, with Mirae hitting Baekhyun’s wounded side repeatedly. Her eyes and fingertips glowed red again and she headbutted him down, the road cracking under Baekhyun as he struggled to move.

As if sensing something was coming, Mirae pushed Jongin, who reappeared in front of her, in time, only for him to go back to her. Mirae’s eyes and fingertips were still glowing as she took him on, grabbing him by the leg and kicking it down, the bones cracking once again and making him cry out in pain.

“Tsk, tsk. Looks like I got both of you,” Mirae watched them squirm in their places. She sensed Yunho’s thoughts. She ran towards the road that had the two robots.

The males were unsuccessful in taking down the machines that were still wreaking havoc in the city, Hongjoong running around in circles to protect the citizens from getting caught in the crossfire of the chaos. Seonghwa was struggling to control each machine even though his eyes and hands were glowing the brightest it had ever been in the few months she had seen his powers manifest.

The rest of them were trying to bring down not only the machines, but also Ten, Taemin, and Lucas, who were gaining the upper hand. Mirae spotted Junhong, who was running out of the internet cafe, looking around for a sign of anyone he could approach. “Mirae!” He called out, having seen her.

“The diamond of the tree of life is powering those robots,” Mirae said. “San tried to blow it up but the diamond is putting everything back together. Is there a way to get rid of that gem?”

“I remember Ino telling me that the diamond is a sentient gem. It disappears whenever it wants to,” Junhong explained. “If Ino hyung created these robots with the power of the diamond, there should be a way for it to disappear now, if we can use it to repair everything else here when all is said and done, we’ll have control of it.”

“But now Ino has the control,” Mirae said, and he nodded. She looked back at the machines that Wooyoung and Mingi were trying to take down. “I am going to try something, there must be a way to take these apart.”

“From the inside, maybe, but good luck trying to bust into that,” Junhong said.

Mirae nodded, coming to the realization that she knew exactly what to do. She turned to Junhong. “Once we take these down, by some miracle, Ino would hopefully stop this.”

“I’m keeping my fingers crossed, but I’m not holding my breath at the same time,” Junhong frowned at the thought.

Mirae ran back to the middle of the road, seeing the machines on both sides. Her eyes glowed red, and she concentrated on the two machines that were still moving. Yunho, I’m about to break these things from the inside, she thought, in the hopes that he would hear her. The more she concentrated, she was slowly glowing, and they could see, in the middle of their fighting, that she was transforming into a bright, white spirit made out of energy.

“Mirae’s reached her full potential,” Junhong muttered, looking at her in awe as her energy form seeped into the machine that Wooyoung and Jongho were trying to take apart, the machine soon glowing red as Wooyoung and Jongho ran away, while Yeosang conjured a shield as the machine began to burst, the diamond inside disappearing.

The three males stared at Mirae’s energy form that flew through the air and entered into the other machine that San and Mingi were trying to take apart. San and Mingi jumped off, landing on top of some cars as the machine exploded and the gem disappeared.

“This is impossible,” Ten stared at the being that emerged from the explosion, watching it materialize back into Mirae, whose eyes were still glowing. He glanced at Lucas and Taemin, creating a portal before she could reach them, the three of them heading inside and vanishing. The portal reappeared before Baekhyun and Jongin’s incapacitated forms, Lucas grabbing onto the two of them before vanishing as well.

“Where the hell did they go?” Seonghwa looked around, seeing the ruins caused by the robots.

“They knew they would lose, so they left,” Yunho said, seeing a gem roll up against his feet. He picked it up. “If only there was a way to repair everything.”

The gem in his hand suddenly lit up and all of a sudden everything around them began to go back to the way it was. The windows that were smashed were brought back together, the dents in the cars disappeared, the rest of the damages, including the cracks in the roads were also brought back together as if nothing happened. “That’s a dangerous gem, Yunho,” Yeosang said, noticing what was in his hand, as the rest of them ran up to him.

“Mirae, where is she?” San looked around for a sign of his sister, until he saw a bright being fly above the buildings and into one skyscraper. “What building is that?” He pointed.

Yeosang looked over to where he pointed. “Lee Technologies. Ino must be there, and Mirae must be looking for him now,” He said. A disk appeared in front of them, expanding to fit them all. From the other side, they saw that it was an empty office and they went through.

The window shattered as Mirae went through, her bright energy form face to face with Ino’s astounded expression. “You have caused me guilt this whole time,” She said. “I have you to thank for me tapping into this part of myself again, but I can’t say things will go back to the way it was.”

“Lee Mirae, do you really think you can kill me?” Ino questioned. “I found you when you were working for your adoptive parents, fixed that trigger from your head, is that how you repay me?”

“I never said I wasn’t grateful, but I will say that you have done more damage to me because you knew where to hit me the most,” Mirae replied. “Your machines are gone, the rest of those people you were with have deserted you, it’s time to give up or I will have to make you.”

Ino shook his head. “Try me.”

Before Mirae could make another move, Ino had disappeared.

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blankdblank · 2 years

Text

Brother Dearest Pt 86

“Kitty,” you whispered in your turn in the outer courtyard having seen the brother in question back from a stroll with others to the lake and back again. They split off and in a hurried couple steps you pocketed your gloves you had been clenching in hand to reach out for the decorative fold on the back of Victor’s sleeve. Behind a cone shaped bush you had slipped to be out of sight for others when his head turned to find what he had possibly gotten snagged on. However when he saw you his lips parted recognizing your face for himself from his own dreams.

“I need your help with something and I don’t expect you to understand fully but we might not have much time so I had to sort of sneak up on you.”

“Miss, I am sorry, however, I cannot be alone with you.”

“I know you’re married,”

“No, well, yes, but no. That is not why. We don’t now each other, if anyone were to see us,”

His voice faded off in a glance back to the house and you said, “Well I don’t care what people say it’s not my fault you’ve gone and forgotten me.” That parted his lips in wonder for when you had met before.

“Miss, I apologize, I truly don’t recall-, where would we even have met?”

“Alberta, near my home.”

“And where would that be in Alberta?”

“East.”

He huffed and repeated almost in a growl out of confusion at the vague answer, “East.”

You simply waved a hand between you. “Look, there’s a man who tried to kill me and now my husband, his brother, two friends, my three daughters and my brother’s daughter is in danger, not even mentioning my other brother, his wife and two babies if the guy goes after them. I need you to find James and bring him to the back parlor near the greenhouse.”

“We do not have a greenhouse.” He answered with brows furrowed.

You inhale sharply answering, “The room with the pointed arches above the door, with that odd step in the floor that has windows overlooking that one hill that does that whooping sort of sound when the wind whips by it in the rain storms.”

“That is oddly specific for someone who barely knows where their own house is located.”

“Look, just go get your brother, we don’t have time,” you said and his eyes dart to your hand that rose into his view showing your wedding ring he recognized instantly snatching your wrist his hand tightened around.

“What have we here?” He growled in a fix of his eyes on yours in what he hoped to be a convincing glare only to be met with one of your own that had him more surprised at the lack of fear in your eyes for a man of his size and tone to have hold of you.

“So help me Kitty, if you point those fangs or claws at me I will punch you back to the 20’s.” You said narrowing his eyes. “You also speak to plants and animals, not mentioning if I stabbed you in the face you’d just pop right back up again. Heightened senses and strength on top of that.” His lips parted as your eyes started to shift silver, “Now you go get that bone claw hiding brother of yours and meet me in the parlor before I hurl you onto the roof or make you cause a wildly unpleasant scene at this fine celebration the Baron has going.”

Dots in his eyes of silver faded and his hand released yours to head right inside, his body fighting to follow your order as his mind raced at what you had somehow forced him to do. Up to James’ side at the fire warming up from the walk he moved leaning in to murmur into his ear, “Young lady requires our help with something.” James nodded and excused himself from the group following his oddly rigid brother to the other end of the manor where he narrowed his eyes catching the same out of place honey and green apple scent he had caught onto earlier.

“What is this about?” James asked.

“Said her family was in danger, someone was after her.” He got to the cracked door he had been tasked to head to and stopped saying lowly to James, “She knows about our powers.” That had James’ lips part, “Made me fetch you.”

“Blackmailing us into helping her?” James about growled back.

“Didn’t mention blackmail, but we didn’t talk long. She is a thief however,” Victor muttered making James’ turn halt, “Your mother’s ring.”

James growled out a breath and pushed the door open for his lips to part again in sight of you in front of one of the open windows. “Countess Pear,” James said making Victor enter and ease the door shut behind them. “Your family is in danger?”

“Yes,” you said and he led his brother closer to the presumed thief.

“Great way to garner help, stealing from the people you come to for help, Countess. And keep your distance, Jimmy, she’s got a trick she does with her eyes.”

“I’m sorry Victor, for making you fetch James but I have tried to be patient all day and this is the first break I found to have a word with you alone.”

“Why would you come here? Surely, Countess, you have much greater people to ask for help from.”

“I don’t know them, I know you. I know you don’t remember me.” His brow arched up in shock, “I can’t tell you, I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell you or not tell you but I know this. I trust you, both of you with my life, and I am begging you to help me get back home.” When you raised your hands their eyes flinched from the supposedly stolen ring and its partnered wedding band then back up to your eyes widening at the next thing you said. “There’s a murderer out there who has been dismembering and making people vanish and I was helping a team after they killed a group of police men and we find his hideout and there’s a flash, next thing I know I’m here! Well, not here, I was at my house, somewhere on the other end of Canada. But I knew I had to come and find the pair of you to help me.”

Victor, “And how are we supposed to help you? Are you expecting to stay here?”

“No,” you replied, “I don’t know. But between the three of us I figured we could come up with some sort of idea to get me home again.”

James’ brows furrowed asking, “Did you not ride to our estate from your home?”

“N-no,” you stammered and sighed hanging your head back a second to look at them and inhale. “One more time. I was in New York, flash, I wake up in the mansion that I came from to come to your ball to find you two to help me get back to where I was taken from.”

Victor, “We can loan you some funds to ride a train for New York.”

“That’s,” you said sighing again, “I don’t need funds, this isn’t as simple as just going there or I would walk there if I was desperate enough. When I would get there if I did take a train my family wouldn’t be there and I would still be stuck in the same trouble!”

“Your family and yourself have been taken separately then. What are the ransom terms?” James asked.

“No ransom terms,” you said furrowing their brows. “I don’t even know exactly how I was taken but I’m here and I know that you can help me.”

Victor, “No matter what you believe you know about our skills others would not take that as proof to force us to do anything. Anyone could have seen our skills at any time on our land and there is no proof we have met you either.”

Sharply you inhaled and they took in the tensing of your arms at your sides to not hurl something across the room in irritation at this dilemma of the brothers who loved you so deeply and protected you so fiercely now staring at you like a stranger. So far from how they had acted even back in the war when you had first met when Victor broke your hand. To James you looked and flatly said. “You have freckles on the underside of your left testicle in the shape of the constellation of Lepus.” That dropped his jaw and Victor looked at him with a brow raised.

You looked at Victor, “Yes, and I know about how you got that scar beneath your right butt cheek too.”

“Even I was never told that tale.” James hummed curiously to his brother.

“I can’t tell you what I can’t tell you. I know you, and you don’t remember me right now, but you will, and I need you to just look at this sketch I have and remember this name because when you see this guy I want you to tear his damn head off.”

Victor rumbles, “We have families too…” he said making you sharply inhale and turn away.

“I know!” you whisper shouted feeling a tingling of swirling power inside of your body from the older version of yourself to a power you didn’t understand that felt so unhelpfully volatile you didn’t want to unleash to find out what it did. For a few moments you stared at the wall in your turn around trying to calm down granting the brothers a chance to look you over wondering if they could recall you from other angles than head on. Though one thing they took notice of and mouthed to one another was the fact that you weren’t breathing at all. The shift of the chain around your neck however had you grab the Beserker medallion there that had you gasp and grasp it. “You won’t believe me, I know who will.”

Inside your clenched palm the medallion gave a pulse as you stated, “Beserkers.” All around you in matching puffs of galaxy colored mists twelve Beserkers of varying heights, manner of dress for their stations and professions glanced around the room to have their eyes fall upon you with glowing medallions on their chests that dimmed to the fade of the mist that brought them here. Instantly the Brothers’ claws came out and they grouped up as you passed them releasing your medallion headed for the four you knew anywhere. “Elliot, Herc, Beau and Jeff,” you said making them move from the group with daggers still drawn ready to fight any sign of trouble.

In Irish you said so the brothers couldn’t understand you. “Ok, short sweet recap, and apologies to the rest of you, you’ll understand why I don’t recall your names yet. Now, it was 1948,” you said narrowing gazes to the trouble already. “There’s a murderer on the loose, the humans have a secret organization, I was helping to track down the killer with those two from that time and two of my friends. We go in, pictures, birds, portraits and sketches, more birds, we get to the back room and flash.” At the quickening of your tone showing sign of your inching closer to crying in panic for how helpless this all made you feel the others moved closer to you. The brothers however kept notice of the motions of your hands with eyes narrowing in wonder for what they could decipher from that alone along with the few terms you couldn’t translate in whatever language you were speaking.

“I wake up all the way across Canada, now, and I try to come get these two, who are still alive then, but don’t know me now and they won’t believe me that I’m me and that they know and love me. I don’t know how much I’m able to share without tearing things apart and I don’t have the whole cosmic unity with my larger ‘Mother’ self. I’m just me, though I have this wild buzzing felling like I could blast lightning at any moment. Anyways, I’m here, but I want them to kill this guy when we get to then because if they’ve got me here my daughters,” you said parting lips in the crowd of Beserkers, “are there unprotected and he could go after my family, which includes them and their babies.”

Herc asked, “Might we see the sketch?” You nodded and brought it out of your dress pocket accidentally dropping your glove it caught on that one of the male Beserkers bent to return for you. Softly you thanked him in accepting the glove you pocketed again and shifted weight on your feet out of nerves for the group to look over as you shared everything you knew about the house you were taken from.

One of the female Beserkers stated, “Tunkuruchu.”

“Bird man, I know that name.” you replied in English making James and Victor look to each other than you. “Humans insulted him so he went around telling people when they would die. He was an owl shaped god for the Mayans.”

She nodded and said, “Someone must have angered him greatly for there to be a spree of victims.”

“So, bird man, there a way we could track him down? Find his machine and get me back again?”

“No,” another Beserker said. “We could not do that, currently he is dormant, there would be no machine.”

“For pete’s sake,” you murmured lifting your arm to smooth a hand over your forehead to look over the female Beserkers who smiled your way. “I’m so sorry I don’t know your names yet, I will, I promise,” you said widening their smiles. “I know you’ve waited and I’m not much to wait for right now, but we have to find the bird man or something that the Mayans might be able to use to send me back.”

James asked, “So you know this coo-ku-kachoo guy that took her family?”

Elliot replied, “Tunkuruchu has been plaguing humanity for centuries and clearly is behind the erasure of the Mayan people who served his kin.”

Victor, “Centuries? What have you been drinking?” You gestured to Victor making him look you over and mime the same motion, “What is that motion for?” You simply gave him a playful glare and he asked, “How are we supposed to believe any of this?”

“You don’t have to!” You replied, “When we think of a decent plan then we will be out of your hair.”

James pointed at you, “Hey, you and your group brought this to our land, you will explain this to us. How do you know us and how do you know about us,” he moved in closer muttering, “And how do you know about my freckles?”

“I can’t tell you,” you replied furrowing his brows even more.

“Then I cannot allow you to leave until you do.”

“Seriously?” you and Victor asked together making him look between you both then to his brother as you waved a hand towards the amused Beserkers, “They just, appear, inside of your home and you assume you can keep me here on sheer stubbornness alone. I can’t tell you because who knows what would happen. For all I know your head would explode.”

“Well you have to tell us.” He fired back.

“You will find out.”

“Damn right, we’re going too.” He said crossing his arms making Victor ask him, “What? Jimmy, a word?” they stepped aside and you did too back to the Beserkers as they had a hushed argument to try and see if they had any idea what to do.

“So, the only thing I can think of is to find the one who made the machine, but he’s dormant.” Your lips pursed a moment, “Are his people awake? Any of them? Maybe one of them has a base or something we could look into for something to give a hint.” You groaned at the next surge of energy through your body, “And she doesn’t help, just, swirling, all silent and upset can’t she just shout something at me?”

The group watched the twitch of silver speckles in your eyes and flinch of galaxy mist around your hands you raised to rest on your sore waist that dimmed in Elliot’s saying, “Were Mother to scream we all would fly into uncontrollable rage.”

“Well that doesn’t sound helpful.”

“No,” Herc replied, “It would not be.”

You sighed and looked to one of the male Beserkers who said, “We could travel to the Mayan territories. There is merit in that plan. Their planet is far beyond our reach even were we to consult Asgard to deploy an envoy signal.”

The female beside him stated, “Yes, they would not travel to a planet claimed by their banished kin or send aid in chance of a farce.”

Another female added, “Whatever the machine it is a pitiful try to recreate one of their people’s creations to unleash upon the humans.”

“What could it do? It’s tearing people apart or completely,” you sighed saying, “Tearing them out of where they are. I mean I have her, what if I didn’t? I surely would have died. Wouldn’t I?”

Male 4 said, “Yes, it would appear so. We can always create another body,”

Your eyes narrowed and you looked to Herc, “Do you have a scanner? That body scanner you used, or will use, on me. If it left some sort of trace. Like radiation.” His mouth opened and he waved his hand summoning his kit the twins held for him as he brought out his finger pricker at your stating, “maybe blood test too.”

James and Victor turned their heads in the halt of their argument to watch him take the blood sample to get a reading for him to say, “Severe Hydrogen deficiency.” Around you the female closest took the scanner to wave it all over then raised the small device that showed a body scan that in several layers showed various results.

“Hydrogen, so it took the water out of my body? Hydrogen is a power source, it’s draining people to power something?”

Herc furrowed his brows at your scan only to glance your way as you let out a puff of air, “I have to use the bathroom.”

James said, “There is a chamber pot in the next room over for some privacy.”

“I am not using a chamber pot,” you replied and he raised a brow at you.

“Then what do you intend to do, Countess?” he asked cockily.

Elliot said, “There is a guest toilet near to the party. I noticed it in my initial scan of the property upon our arrival.”

Victor, “That is for the men, not fit for a Countess.”

You simply glared up at him and Elliot stated in a gentle pat of his hand on your arm, “I will clear the room.” And off he went in a cloud of mist to ensure the room was empty and upon seeing a servant standing next to the doorway to offer cologne or other favors for those who use it that gladly took the warning he would need some air and stepped outside closing the door behind him. Back through the mist Elliot passed his arm with a grin at your claim of his hand to with two of the females into the empty room. Scent of moss and dirt covered thankfully the cleaned latrine containers for the guests to use during the party filled the chilly air of the dim stone walled room. The walls were mainly bare of anything but mounted lanterns with a set of benches around three of the walls with holes cut into the tops for toilets. Each one separated by baskets of supplies to clean up after with the empty wall holding various colognes and perfumed powders for men to help with any lingering smells.

“Now I know why she’s angry.” Making the ladies smirk and guide you to the back wall which bench seemed might be the warmest of spots for this.

“We will help with your skirts,” they said and led you over as Elliot faced the door holding a barrier up to keep the door shut so you could adjust your under things to slide up onto the cold bench seat and shiver in the pause before you could pee. “Moss or scrap paper?”

Eying the basket she reached for you sighed at this option of means of cleaning up afterwards. “Moss,” into your palm the bit you were given was settled in your mental recalling using moss for using the toilet outside during the war between city posts. “Again with the moss... can only imagine what the paper would do to my skin...”

“It’s not good,” one of the ladies says. Up again you rose after releasing the moss to fix your layers back in place to have the ladies help to smooth your skirts down again around you for the same one to ask about your cotton skirt. “Your skirt is torn.”

“King Williams’ grandson broke his leg. I used it to bind the brace to get him inside.”

Elliot turned asking, “How was his fever?”

“Dissipated quickly, I had some herbal tea in a first aid kit in my closet link to the directory,” you said earning a nod from him.

“He should mend then fairly quickly.”

“The drunk Doctor in town was going to give him laudanum.” You glanced around, “And no sink.” He smirked and opened the mist again allowing you through and took the long way back to let the servant back to his post for others with a tip of a coin to pocket that widened his grin at the unknown stranger. In a side hall he slipped and met you in the room where two of the men had readied a wash basin for your hands you held your hands over to palm the soap. The second poured a bit of water over your hands to lather up and when you set the soap down and worked the suds all over your hands in full view of the confused brothers who had been listening to the group still locked in search of a plan.

James, “I told you it was not fit for ladies to use. A chamber pot would have been cleaner.”

“It was plenty clean. Cold to sit down but clean.”

Victor asked, “Then why the soap?”

Elliot answered for you at your pointed gaze his way. “We like to be clean.”

Victor’s eyes sank to his medallion and he asked, “So you all are from the same place?” Eyes turned to him and he tapped his chest, “You all have the same medallions.”

Elliot nodded, “Yes. We are and do.”

James, “And, that would be where?”

“East,” he answered making the brothers repeat the vague direction and roll their eyes as the pitcher of water was poured over your hands to rinse them. Then be taken away while you patted your hands dry on the towel he offered you hanging over his raised arm then claimed as well with a grin to your soft thanks for the help.

Mexico, Belize, Honduras and Guatemala, and the Yucatan Peninsula all were shown on holographic maps with glowing dots at each known area for known territories for each of the banished Mayan deities. “What would wake them?” You asked, “Do we know? Someone breaking into one of their lands? Or another creature would have arrived to wake them somehow? Or maybe an alarm clock to wake up randomly?”

Smirks were scattered through your group as one of the males answered, “All of those could do that.”

Another said, “Possibly an explosion might override their dormant status. Although a blast near to their lands would have them decimate the continent…”

“Hiroshima,” you muttered and raised a hand to tap your fingers to your brows, “Damn idiots. Went and woke up the bird man.”

Victor asked, “What did the Japanese blow up?”

You inhaled and looked at him for James to ask, “Let me guess, can’t tell us?” You shook your head and he nodded, “Figures. So, Japanese went and woke up coo-ku-cachoo and now he’s got your family. How hopeless is this?”

“Not hopeless at all, quite the contrary.” One of the ladies said having him look her over as she stepped closer to you at your hand resting on your side where a throb had been growing since your trip to the bathroom again thanks to your corset. Locations from you helped to work down the search radius inside each territory of the temples and which were linked by the little you had read on them to which deity each was built for. For what little you assumed to have contributed they all shared their own knowledge on top of that for the relationships between deities that would shorten the list on which to check for possible locations even greater to just one region.

“Tunkuruchu had few allies even amongst his own. That would leave this cluster in Belize.” The clench of your eyes to another surge of pain had Herc step nearer to you with a concerned gaze.

Sounds of voices coming closer calling for James only had your nerves spike again and your hand lift to plant on Herc’s arm to the clear sound of Rose’s voice making him mutter, “Rose.”

“Herc,” you said resting a hand on his arm luring him a step closer noting your paling complexion. “Could – my corset,” you managed to say before going limp in the roll of your eyes.

The brothers’ mouths dropped open and at their urging Herc carried you to a guest suite upstairs while they explained to Rose and the other guests the Countess had required to rest after her exciting evening and had been shown to a guest suite. Together Herc and the ladies gingerly helped to remove your outer layers and glanced up in James and Victor’s entrance into the suite in lead of the footmen that carried your belongings they ordered up for your use. Underneath the nightgown when the corset had been removed and set aside silver skin was revealed for nearly your entire torso Herc pressed on gently to test the severity of the bruises.

The silver above the sheet laid across your hips had the brothers ask, “What is that?”

“Her corset was too tight. Cracked and bruised all of her ribs, the rest of this is muscle strain.” Herc answered.

To which James asked, “No further explanation on the silver skin at all?”

Herc answered, “That is how we heal. This compounded the strain on her body from that machine. It drained all the water from her body propelling her to Canada she will recover from this, I have some tonic I can give her when she awakens again.” he switched the scan and palpated around your rib cage and breast bone again. “Did she mention how old her children are?”

“No,” Victor said, “Why?”

Herc caught his gaze answering, “They must be barely mobile at the oldest, she is nursing still.” That had them all look you over as he covered you up fully and made certain you were nestled in bed to rest. Across the room in the sitting area the Beserkers sat up to work out a plan in the meantime to Victor and James’ slip out to make their own hushed plan on a direct path to the family safe. Sight however at the purple heart shaped ring exactly how it had been left inside the buried safe right where they had left it calmed the fear of thievery at least but only added more questions. Why that ring design, that shade? Why here? Why them? How the hell did you know them? No answers had been given and wonder at what was next for the men who laid awake for a time beside their wives in thought on all that had happened and how they could help this odd group of strangers that had come into their lives.

Excuse was easily enough made to free up a trip away from home and their understanding wives same as the Baron and James’ mother. Reminders of rumor from guests on their departure on lack of husband and family for the mysterious Countess had their stomachs clench even more for seedier reasons why your children had been taken. Just why you had been silent on a marriage, pregnancy and birth when any other woman would shout it to the world. Who were you? Why did they take your family and send you to Canada? What were they up against with this coo-ku-cachoo fellow behind it all you wanted them to kill?

Sharply in the open of your eyes you inhaled to the crinkle of your face in stirring tears behind a raised hand to hide it luring the group over. Warm tears down your cleaned cheeks were wiped away to not break down and delay things. “Maybe, maybe I shouldn’t have come here.”

Jeff said, “You came here for their help. It isn’t fortunate they aren’t aware of themselves or you at the moment, but this is not a mistake.”

Herc asked, “How old are your babies?”

“Barely six months,” you said with your lip quivering to another round of tears. “They’re not on solid food fully yet.”

Herc, “We are going to get you back before they will miss a meal, no matter how long it takes to find that machine. We will return you to exactly when you were taken. We swear.”

One of the ladies asked, “Just what exactly occurred in that building you were taken from?” In greater detail you shared the exact reaction of the machine that on a sketch pad they brought from your trunk of books you made as close a copy of what it looked like before it went off.

“This is crude,” one of them said matching comments from each of them on how weak the configuration was to whatever use the original machine must have been able to muster.

Elliot stated, “We will ensure your servants return home and we will have a supply of horses of our own properties to use for this mission to spare Mother’s comfort when she returns control in a new body for this era.”

“I’m stealing her body then?” You asked making him chuckle.

“No, this is a focal point for her, meaning this must be a point where she travels from often to other times or countries.”

“Her Ladies Maid did mention my wandering when she saw my clothes I woke up in under the covers.”

“See,” Beau said, “She travels often, most likely she guided you back here so that you might have this back up body when she knew yours would be destroyed.”

“And it’s the same?” you asked and as if on cue your gaze followed theirs to your chest to look at the milk stains on your nightgown one of the ladies brought over a water basin to wet a cloth you used to clean up as another brought out some fresh under things and nightgown for you to change into.

“Down to the last atom,” Herc answered your question pleased at least that the changing had helped to calm you down a bit. “Mother planned this for your safety.”

“Then why won’t she speak to me? Give some sort of hint of a plan?”

“She wants to tell you, however,” Jeff said.

And you said with Beau, “She can’t,” earning nods from the group. Your eyes sank to your wedding ring and you couldn’t help but stroke your rings, “They’re so young,” you whimpered out and they reached out to stroke your back and arms at more tears filling your eyes. “This is before, before the world broke them. Their hearts, their faith.” Tears spilled down your cheeks to the twins’ lean in to fold around you as you covered your face. “They’re gonna suffer so much after I’m gone. And I come back when they’re broken and scarred. How are they going to trust me? How can I just go and leave them to this alone?”

“They will have you. You cannot stay here, you must return.”

“I know I can’t stay,” you said to another sniffle. Trying to stop crying only to give a quick gasp for air stifling a possible sob in your body’s ache to weep deeply at this surge of pain you were feeling not just from you but from her deeply inside of you. As if you’d tapped a nerve of her own she had been trying to hide from you in this state. “They aren’t mine I would be in the way.”

A sunken look in your eyes that began to dim from purple to grey had Herc tap the bottom of your chin, “Hey,” snapping your mind from the mental sink hole you felt yourself being drug into by your ankles. “Don’t you do that,” he said furrowing your brows in confusion. “You don’t know what that awakens, that urge, do not tap that urge.” He wasn’t speaking to you however but to her, “We need her, and she needs this form, do not recede, Mother.”

“Recede?” you asked to the feel of her pull back again apparently regaining control of her own emotional turmoil.

“We all have pain, in this age her pain is still too fresh to have taken permanent form yet. The barrier is too frail between you, when we tap that internal urge or despair our physical forms recede to metal and we become statues until we are called by Mother.” Herc explained.

“I’m upsetting her?” You squeaked out and his hand engulfed yours gently.

“They are yours, you have daughters, all she desires. Ages we flit in and out of each other’s lives until we are meant to settle roots. She is not yet awake when you begin your family, she will heal her wounds and bind to you when that day comes. We each have such deep wounds from our lifetimes and her lifetime is eons more vast than ours. We will return you home and she will aid us through this reminder of her losses while you struggle in time away from your family.”

You nodded and looked at the group asking, “Would it be rudely late of me to ask everyone’s names at this point?”

Grins spread as they named themselves off around the ones you had named so far, Luf, Hon, Celle, Maru, Vul, Puft, Borr, Fenn. Each who shared the supplies that while you were sleeping they had readied from their own homes for however long this trip would be with quick excuses to slip away for a much needed time to handle family matters of the utmost importance. Sunrise would be coming soon and amongst the things gathered was a supply of travel clothing from Mother’s directory closet far easier for you to get around in that did not require the very useless corset. Your figure didn’t matter to you and wouldn’t be on your mind at all wherever you were headed to get home again.

Focus for that however would wait as herbs for a healing soak in the tub was called for. On the side of the copper tub you stood watching the first heated pitcher of water that was brought for it being poured into the bottom of the tub that barely got an inch of water. The expression on your face when you looked to Celle had her grin in amusement in your try to not shout that you could just use a wash cloth with what was there. Two more maids entered however with pitchers after her in a sort of line until you had enough warm water to strip and sink into the ridiculously small tub. With use of a copper cup you wet your shoulders to two of the ladies helping to weave your hair back into a long braid similar to their own style for theirs.

Pt 87

All –

@sherala007, @mariannetora, @jesgisborne, @knitastically, @catthefearless, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000, @alishlieb,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess

Brother Dearest -

@thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam

@swoopswishsward

#Victor Creed #James Howlett #Elliot Randolph #Beserkers #Back in 1833 #Help Me #Marvel

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lloydshoulddyehishair · 3 years

Text

What we miss and what we gain | 1-For his own advantage

Summary: Lloyd never had a family and he didn’t want one either, especially not in the form of five weird teenage boys playing dress up and a girl with a secret identity, she thought no one knew about. (Except, maybe he did.)

When Lloyd first arrived at the Destiny’s Bounty he could just tell that he was anything but welcome there. The glares, the silly fruit coloured “Ninja” had shot him still burned on his skin as he entered what was now to be his room. The girl had tried to hide her annoyed expression, which the blond appreciated but he really could have cared less. He wasn’t here to be liked by them, in fact, he didn’t know why he was here to begin with.

Of course, his uncle had invited him to stay – or more like forced him to go with him – but really other than that? He didn't know why he was here and it almost set him on edge. Had his uncle some evil master plan? Yes, he was one of the “good guys” apparently but you never knew. Maybe he only wanted Lloyd to stay so his wannabe Ninja could use him as a punching bag for their training. Not that he wasn't used to that kind of stuff, he did have his fair share of punching bag experience from Darkley's.

In all honesty though, whether his uncle had something mean planned didn't matter in the end because at least he didn't have to worry about freezing to death at night any more or being kidnapped off of the street by some creepy people or having to wonder if he would get to eat the next day – you get the gist – cause now he actually had a bed to sleep in, a filled fridge only a few rooms away and people to protect him from possible danger.

Not that he cared about these people, which he was living with now, he was only using them for his own personal benefit. He didn't exactly need them either. He was just fine on his own – maybe a bit malnutritioned but that was besides the point. The point was that Lloyd Garmadon didn't need anyone, never had and never would. He never needed parents to take care of him, he never needed friends to play with, he never needed a shoulder to cry to. So he most certainly did not need to befriend some weird teenagers fighting snakes in pyjamas – or whatever his uncle had hoped would happen.

And the young Garmadon could have ignored the others' stupid and childish behaviour of making their negative opinion on him known on the entire ship. He really could've ignored Jay hiding his comics or Cole purposefully pushing past him, sending him flying to the ground – but what he couldn't ignore were Kai's annoying and constant comments and rants about Lloyd staying with them. He was behaving like a child that didn't get what it wanted. Ignoring him the whole time but also talking about him non-stop. What was his problem–

“My problem, is you, you little-”, the pineapple head yelled, coming dangerously close to his face with his index finger.

“Have you seen my fangs?”, Lloyd asked him rhetorically. “Any closer with that thing and I'll bite it off.”, Kai's expression changed into one of disgust but he pulled his finger away, nonetheless.

“See! That is what I mean! You don't even try to be good! You're always mean and starting fights – just like your father!”, Lloyd simply rolled his eyes.

Really what did the fire guy think he was doing right now?

“You started this! You were the one to raise your voice and point at me. I didn't even do anything”

“You were in my way–“

“In your way? Really, which one of us is the child?”

“Just leave!”, Kai screamed at him, pushing him away, almost making Lloyd lose balance. “Just go back to where you came from or something! No one wants you here, the only reason we haven't thrown you out yet is because Sensei feels like he is somehow responsible for you because your dad is evil and your mum doesn't love you enough to care about what happens to you!”

And suddenly it was almost like something in Lloyd's chest ripped apart and why were his eyes stinging– Oh no. No, Lloyd Garmadon didn't cry, especially not in front of 15 year old bullies with stupid hair, who had absolutely no idea what they were talking about–

His hands formed into fists as his eyes remained on the floor, not looking up at the brown eyes that probably stared at him with all the hatred in the world.

Maybe he sort of deserved it, the boy figured, after all he did cause nothing but trouble for them by releasing the Serpentine and he was probably right about Uncle Wu only keeping him there because he felt like he had to but– but that didn't mean he had to like facing that truth.

So instead of throwing a mean remark at him, like the brainless teen probably expected him to, he ran past him into his room, locking himself in and landing with a yelp on his bed, only staring up at the ceiling before some tears actually began to fall.

This felt way too much like Darkley's, like the nights he'd spent silently crying because if the other children heard a single sound he'd be– they'd do not so kind things to him or like the first nights he had been at the school, crying because his mother just left him there to rot–

Kai was right. His mum didn't care about him, if she did she wouldn't have left him at that school or had at least written letters or picked him up for the holidays or congratulated him on his birthdays– but she did nothing like that because she simply didn't care. Lloyd was okay with it, truly. It made him grow up faster, made him more responsible and it made him realize that you don't need anyone but yourself, that you shouldn't trust anyone but yourself because in the end everyone will betray you – something that Pythor had just proven true to him.

However, talking about his mother had never really been easy for him. He didn't even know why because talking about his father on the other hand had never been a problem to him. Maybe it was because of the simple fact that his mum had left him voluntarily, whereas his dad didn't have that much of a choice because he was apparently banished into the Underworld.

Sometimes he would think about why his mum had left him. Was it his fault? Probably. Who would want to raise the child of some supervillain, anyways? But at the same time, he was her son, too, so the problem must have lied somewhere else. Maybe he was too annoying? Too clingy? Just too much in general?

Whatever it was, it had made her leave – not that he cared of course (except maybe he did). He had no use for a mother, just like he had no use for an uncle or friends. Who needed friends? He could be his own friend! It's not like anyone could understand him or his struggles anyways, these annoying Ninja probably all came from perfect families and had gotten everything handed to them on a silver plate. They didn't know what it was like to grow up without parents, without a loving home. They didn't know what it was like to grow up and constantly be judged for the fact that you're Lord Garmadon's kid – either because you weren't bad enough or too bad. They didn't know what it was like to be all alone.

It was fine, though. He didn't care about being alone, he only stayed on the Bounty because he could use the others, that was all. As soon as he didn't see any benefits or advantages in living with them anymore he would leave and never look back because he definitely didn't care for them. Not for how they were, for how they were doing or for what they thought of him.

But then why were Kai's words still all he could think about and why did the tears not stop falling?

#saga writes #ninjago #ninjago lloyd #ninjago fanfiction #writing #found family #what we miss and what we gain #wwmawwg #child abandonment

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thedarkrose17 · 3 years

Text

Landing in a strange world was weirdly normal at this point for Noctis. But landing in a strange world with one of his friends not so much.

Prompto looks at the Regalia and sighs.

"You think there's a gas station around here?"

Noctis shrugs, leaning against the car.

"Where even is here?"

Prompto swallows and looks around for any signs with text on, hoping to get a hint. Nothing.

He checks his phone. No signal. Weird. It looks like nowhere on Eos he's seen before.

"No signal." Prompto looks at Noctis and sighs. "Any bars for you?"

Noctis grabs his phone and checks. "Nothing."

"Shit." Prompto groans.

He feels his anxiety easing as he hears footsteps approaching. A person! Finally!

They could figure out where they were, get the Regalia in a garage and maybe call Cindy to get her to tow them back to Hammerhead.

Prompto takes a deep breath and turns to face the stranger, a greeting on his lips. It dies the moment he sees said stranger.

The stranger looked human-like but not fully. Black cat ears sat on top of black and grey hair with an orange lily in it, a tail flicked to the side. His eyes were normal minus the glowing yellow hue.

The stranger had a weird get up, black almost robe-like open top, black pants and boots and two circular shiny things on each of his sides, strapped down.

"Um." Prompto blinks. That was straight up a cat man. "...Do you know where we can find a garage?"

Noctis stood up and looked at the stranger. Said stranger looked flustered as he looked between Noctis and Prompto. Was he turning red?

"Um...To fix the Regalia." Noctis adds, gesturing to the car.

"Oh...the vehicle! Cid can help. He's the expert. Can't say he's ever seen something like this though. Hells I haven't." the cat stranger says. He has fangs. Actual cat fangs.

"Cid?!" Noctis shares a look with Prompto as Prompto utters: "Is Cindy here too?!"

The stranger watched them in complete confusion. His face screamed who's that?

"Who are you?" Noctis asks.

"Solis. Solis Octavia" the cat man introduces himself. He bows, it feels so formal. He looks embarrassed almost when he notices the boys didn't return the gesture, his ears droop down and his tail curls around his waist.

Prompto and Noctis couldn't help but stare. This was just a cat that could talk. A disaster of one at that.

"Solis huh? I'm Noctis. You can call me Noct." Noctis rested a hand on his hip, using his free hand gesture to Prompto with his thumb. "That's Prompto."

"Hey." Prompto offered an awkward smile. "So um where are we?"

"Eorzea. In Thanalan." Solis replies.

The boys blinked and shared a look.

"I've never seen that on a map of Eos." Noctis muttered while Prompto looked close to a panic attack. Where the hell were they? "Can you help us push the car?"

Solis nodded and the three pushed the car until they reached Cid. To the boys' surprise it wasn't their Cid but another one called Cid Garlond.

Through him they learned they were in another world while his crew seemed to marvel at the Regalia. Cid promised he'd try to fix her.

* * *

Prompto and Noctis headed off with Solis to find out more information while they waited.

Sadly they didn't learn how to get back home but they learned something concerning.

"There's been metal men around. There's reports of people saying they're Garlean made." Solis says.

Prompto frowns and speaks up before Noctis has a chance to.

"MTs?"

"Did they follow us?" Noctis asks.

"Em-Tees?" Solis asks in confusion.

"They're magitek soldiers. Robots. Made of metal by the Niflheim empire. No one's inside them."

Prompto swallows and nods.

"They sound like they scream when they go down. Super creepy."

Solis' body stiffens. His tail swishing side to side, eyes wide.

Noctis had been around enough cats to know that was a sign of an afraid one. He resisted every urge to reach out and pet the cat man who was the exact same height as Prompto. It seemed weird.

"We'll take them out. They're easy." Noctis says, offering a smile.

Solis blinks and nods. He punches his fist into his hand and grins, showing off his fangs.

"They don't stand a chance."

* * *

The Regalia's gone by the time they get back. Hidden from the prying eyes of a cat woman reporter trying to get a scoop.

Unfortunately for the boys, she tracks them down and offers to give them more information to all their questions for a price. An interview with Prompto and Noctis.

So Noctis somewhat reluctantly agrees.

* * *

Noctis and Prompto come out of their interview with her and head over to Solis.

"So...How was it?" Solis asks.

"It wasn't an interview." Noctis sighs.

"It was an interrogation." Prompto mutters.

Solis snorts.

"It can't have been that bad."

"Trust me dude. It was." Prompto sighs dramatically.

* * *

True to her word, the reporter gives them more information, sending the trio to Gridania to talk to her sources about MTs.

After talking to said sources, Solis tells the reporter about a person seeing mts near Bramble Patch in the east shroud.

Prompto and Noctis listen completely lost on the places but it eventually doesn't stop the pair bolting off before Solis has finished speaking.

He sighs and chases after them, catching up with them in the east shroud. It's dark and dangerous, granted it's also dangerous in the day for anyone clueless about their surroundings or inexperienced.

He pants and is ready to warn them about running off until a creature growls in the darkness and stops him.

"Holy shit! A daemon!" Prompto yells.

Solis takes the circular things from his sides. While he's never fought this thing he's fought things similar.

"Let's go fellas." Noctis smirks, leading the charge.

Prompto hums and summons his gun, he fires off a starshell bullet, lighting up the area as Noctis warp strikes.

He rushes around firing as Noctis attacks. Almost stopping as he glances at Solis attacking.

The cat twirls and spins, colours coming off him as he throws the circular thingies around and at the enemy. He should really ask what those are called.

"Prompto!"

Prompto blinks and looks at Noctis who grins and throws him his sword, Prompto catches it with ease and throws his gun to Noctis.

The pair attack and finally finish off the daemon.

They bump forearms together and Prompto does his cute little victory cheer that Noctis adores but refuses to admit.

"...What's with the weapon change?" Solis asks.

"Link strike." Noctis replies. "We have a few."

Prompto nods and puts the sword back in the armiger, Noctis doing the same with his gun.

A stomach growls and the duo turn to their cat man teammate.

"...All that fighting made me hungry." Solis says, looking embarrassed. He rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

Noctis' stomach growls next, followed by Prompto's.

"Same here dude." Prompto mutters.

"Lets go set up camp." Noctis suggests.

"For once you're actually down for it. Ah, if only Gladio could see you now." Prompto jokes, gently elbowing him.

"...Sometimes it's not all bad." Noctis quietly admits.

* * *

They set up camp on higher grounds away from hostile creatures.

Noctis makes onigiri that would probably impress Ignis while Prompto makes and hands out coffee.

He sits next to Solis with a quiet oof before speaking up.

"I've been meaning to ask you dude...What's those circular thingies on your waist." Prompto asks.

"Chakrams. Blades are on them. They're what we dancers use."

"Dancers with weapons?! Dude, that's sick!" Prompto grins. "It was super cool seeing you spin around and all these colours come off you as you throw them."

Noctis heads over and sits next to Prompto. He offers the blonde a smile as he hands out the onigiri to the other two boys.

"Dude! He's a dancer with cool bladed circles!" Prompto excitedly repeats to Noctis.

Noctis can't help but smile.

"Is he now?"

He goes quiet for a moment before offering his thanks to Solis.

"What for? All I did was stop you two from becoming lost." Solis smirks. He laughs a little when Noctis calls him a smartass.

"No I mean you probably have shit to do yet you're helping us."

"It's nothing."

"Don't you have a life?" Prompto asks before covering his mouth. "Fuck! S-Sorry that came out wrong."

Solis offers them a warm smile and fiddles with a ring on his hand with a gem in.

"Is that-" Noctis gets cut off.

"An eternity ring." Solis answers, a blush dusts his cheeks as he says it and a fond smile crosses his lips.

"You're engaged?!" Prompto asks.

"Married actually."

"Won't your wife be worried about you?" Prompto asks.

"Husband. He's an adventure too."

The boys glance at each other. Maybe there's hope for them. Granted neither knows the other's feelings or even has the balls to confess yet.

"I get the feeling maybe there's some unsaid feelings between you too." Solis says, resting a hand on his jaw. He smirks. "Cute."

Noctis and Prompto turn scarlet. Prompto stutters gibberish while Noctis tries and fails to deny it.

Solis laughs, his fangs are more visible when he does so.

"Whatever it is..I hope you two can figure it out."

"....Sooo…" Noctis speaks up, changing the subject. "What's your husband like?"

Solis beams and rambles about his husband, a tall viera (bunny person as the boys come to learn) with green hair and heterochromia.

Seeing him light up like that makes Noctis wish that one day he could gush about Prompto like this to anyone who'd listen.

The man sounds completely smitten and honestly Noctis wants that freedom too.

He flops back in his chair, looking up at the sky sadly. Maybe if they can get home, somehow he'll confess.

Prompto places a hand on his arm and offers a weak smile.

"We'll find a way home. You always have."

Hearing that makes Noctis smile. Prompto has a point, he always does end up back home.

* * *

"It's good we took care of the daemon but there weren't any clues this time either." Noctis sighs.

Prompto puts an arm around his shoulders.

"We'll find something. We have to."

Solis joins them moments later.

"I told the reporter about what happened. She's hunting for more leads so we'll have to sit tight for a while."

"...I'd rather go for a walk. Take in the sights."

"Me too." Prompto moves his arm from around Noctis. "We won't leave the city. Promise."

"Ok just don't-"

They head off before Solis finishes.

"...Run off," he sighs.

* * *

He finds them at a stall, the lady behind offering them glamours for free to change their clothes.

Prompto tries one and horns appear on his forehead and a spiky tail appears from his lower back. The cropped top and tattered pants with open toed shoes are a surprise for the blonde. He's yet to notice the horns or tail.

Huge surprise for Noctis judging by how red his face has turned. He can't seem to speak let alone stop staring at the blonde.

"Um...W-What is this?"

"Au ra starting gear sir. Would you like to try another?" the lady behind the stall says.

Prompto nods awkwardly and takes another, using it. He looks human to his relief, the only change is his outfit. A white and black shirt with a deep v, white pants and thigh high boots.

Noctis still seems flustered by that as he takes a miqo glamour and uses it, turning into a cat person. Prompto squeaks in surprise, he blushes muttering Noctis looks cute making Noctis choke out a "W-What?!" flustering Prompto more.

Solis looks at the pair and sighs. Truly they're hopeless. Even more so as they awkwardly get two more glamours for their friends.

He's barely known them for a day and yet he can see their pining. And here he thought he was a disaster.

"When's the wedding?!" he yells, teasing. He might cackle when he notices the boys turn a deeper red.

"Fuck you that's when!" Noctis yells back, flipping him off. There's no malice, just a flustered prince and his best friend internally dying next to him.

Solis can't help but laugh more.

#darkrose17 writing #darkrose17 writes #I spent a couple of days on this no lie I dunno why #for some reason the event made me wanna write something with it #also it's a nice event I nearly cried a few times first play of it and also at the ki///ngsgla///ive ti///tle I gained #my brain just went what if Prom was there and I also made mutually pining Promptis #featuring my disaster w///o///l S///ol #he teases knowing full well he'd be the exact same if not worse than them cause he's a clown truly

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma Ecstasy [Prologue]

Monologue

By the time I was finally released from the punishment room,

I had made two more comrades,

aside from Kou.

One smart and dependable guy,

and another fellow who’s kinda creepy and always covered in scars,

but somehow I can’t bring myself to ignore him.

It felt somewhat different from my relationship with Boss and the others,

but strangely enough,

I genuinely thought of these dudes as my companions.

I’m sure it’s because we all had the same goal.

The four of us gathered together,

and came up with a plan to escape this Hell.

And one evening,

we finally made up our minds.

Bear: When are we putting this plan into action?

Ruki: Tomorrow evening. We won’t take any luggage with us. Leave everything behind. Understood?

Kou: Yeah!

Bear: Roger.

Azusa: If you guys…say so…

Bear: ( I don’t know if my luck is good or bad, but I survived till now. )

( Boss, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll take your dream upon me instead. )

( I’ll change this country, so please wait just a little longer. )

( ...To fulfill said dream, I’ll definitely escape this place. )

( Don’t worry. Right now, I have comrades who are just about as reliable as you guys were. )

( I’m sure...It’ll go well. )

*TIMESKIP*

Bear: ( ...In just a few more hours, the night will fall. )

( We can’t get our timing wrong. We won’t get a second chance if our plan is exposed. ...We only get one shot. )

( Right, I should prepare to set the fiーー )

Youngster: ...! Oi, you!

Bear: ( ...Che, did he find out!? )

Youngster: I knew it! Thank god, you survived!

Bear: ...? Who are you?

Orphan A: It’s me, Leo! I lived in the village next to yours! We often went fishing in the past, remember?

Bear: Leo...?

Orphan A: Well, we were still children, so I guess I can’t blame you for not remembering. We’ve both changed as well. I didn’t recognize you at first glance either.

But I was worried about you this whole time. After what happened to your village...Your home was burnt to the ground as well.

Bear: Burnt...?

( What’s this? It rings a bell... )

( ...Right! That dream! When Boss had only just picked me up, I would often have dreams about fires! )

( Don’t tell me, this is a guy I knew in the past I can’t recall...!? )

Say, Leo! There’s something I want to asーー!

*THUD*

Orphan A: Guah...!?

*Thud*

Bear: ...!? Oi!

Orphan A: ...Uu...

Bear: Fuck...What do you think you’re doing, bastard!?

Gang Boss: Excuse me? ...Isn’t that my line? Right, Bear?

Bear: ...Che, look who’s back. You’ve made your return earlier than I expected.

Gang Boss: Thanks to you, yeah. (1)

Bear: What do you want now? Have you come to get beaten to pulp?

Gang Boss: Yeah, exactly. Howeverーー

You are the one who’ll end up beaten and bruised!

Bear: ...You’ve gathered some comrades because you know you can’t win by yourself? Whether you bring nobody or a whole gang, the end result won’t change.

Gang Boss: ...Per usual, you know how to run your mouth.

Anyway, your prolonged life ends right here. It’s been quite a while since your Boss died, but time has finally come.

Bear: You piece of shit...Why today out of all days!? You’ve got shit timing.

Gang Boss: Enough talking! Your beloved Boss is waiting for you in the afterlife!

Bear: Che...!

Kou: ーー Bear!!

Bear: Kou!?

Ruki: We were wondering what was taking you so long, but what are you doing!?

Bear: Don’t blame me! They’re the ones who started this!

Kou: I’m pretty sure you take some blame too though.

Ruki: That doesn’t matter! Hurry up and finish your quarrel! If we let this chance slip by, we’re done for!

Bear: Oh, I’m well...aware!

*THUD*

Ruki: In that case, we’ll use this commotion to our advantage. Kou, you light the fire instead!

Kou: Roger!

Ruki: I’ll lure in the guards from one side. You guys make as much of a fuss as you can! However, make sure they don’t get the upper hand on you!

When I give you the signal, we’ll dash through the gate at once! Understood!?

Bear: Piece of cake!

Azusa: Can I be the one getting punched...?

Bear: That’s no option! We’re gonna be the ones doing the punching! ーー Let’s go!!

Monologue

ーー In the end, the plan we spent days setting up,

did not go as planned.

However, luck was on our side,

and we succeeded,

at making our escape from that Hellhole.

ーー Spread out in front of my eyes once outside,

was an almost transluscent blue sky.

Seems like it is sunny out today.

It has been a while since I gazed up at the sky.

Perhaps that is why, the usual blue sky and white clouds,

seemed extremely beautiful for some reason.

I couldn’t help but think,

that the world is beautiful.

We may have escaped prison,

but the world we would have to live in now,

is most definitely rotten.

I will change this country, change the world.

For that reason, I desperately kept on running.

Regardless, the clear blue skies,

were so beautiful, every time I raised my head,

I somehow grew emotional.

ー The flashback ends as the scene shifts to the living room

Ruki: How have things been going as of late?

Yuma: ...No change, really.

Ruki: You’ve been sucking her blood, no? Have you not been experiencing any signs? Of Adam?

Yuma: ...Don’t think so? Not sure tho.

Ruki: ...Yuma.

Yuma: Shut up, I know! Stop remindin’ me over and over, it’s annoyin’!

Ruki: ...Are you rushing?

Yuma: ...

Ruki: Rushing will not make you Adam. That is up to Eve’s blood to decide.

Yuma: ...I know that shit.

Ruki: Then don’t rush. Even if you are in a hurry, it will not benefit the situation.

However...I am sure you are aware that things cannot remain like this forever?

Our objective is not to become Adam. It is to return our favor to that man by doing so.

If you continue to not show any signs of awakening, then we’llーー

Yuma: Don’t say that!!

Ruki: ...Judging by your reaction, seems like you have realized as well. Yuma. ...That we are unable of becoming Adam.

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki: ...Either way, I’m glad you seem to understand at least. Either way, I am not asking you to act upon this right away.

However, as soon as we receive an order from that man, I will take action as well. Do not forget that.

ー Ruki steps away

Yuma: ...Givin’ her to those Sakamaki’s? Don’t be kiddin’ me.

...I will become Adam.

No way I’ll let those damn rich people steal Boss’ dream as well...!

ー The scene shifts to the kitchen

*Chop chop chop*

Yui: ( ...There we go. Now I just have to put all the ingredients inside and let it simmer. )

( Ah, right. I’ll add the cabbage we got from Yuma-kun’s garden the other daーー )

*Rustle*

ー The screen suddenly fades to black

Yui: Eh!?

( W-What!? Things suddenly went dark...Hold on, somebody is covering my eyes!? )

Yuma: Keep still.

Yui: That voice, Yuma-kuーーNn!

( He covered my mouth as well...! )

ー Yuma bites her

Yuma: Hah...Nn...

Yui: Ah, ow...!

( W-Why did he suddenly bite me...!? )

Yuma: Nn...Nn...!

Haah...This side’s up next...Don’t ya dare tense up.

Yui: ( N-No...What is he doing!? I can’t tell since I can’t see a thing!. ...I’m scared...! )

Nn, nnnn...!

Yuma: ...Che, you’re so noisy. But it’s no use. Stay like that.

A humans’ remainin’ senses grow more sensitive when one is lost, right?

So by taking yer vision like this, I’ll make ya focus on only my fangs.

I’d love to take yer hearing too but...Nn...

Yui: ...! Nn...!

Yuma: I’m pretty sure it’ll be more effective...If I let ya listen to the sound of me devourin’ ya, mixed in with yer own sounds.

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Hah...Hah...!

Yuma: There ya go. I’ll release yer mouth. ...Cry out all ya want.

Come on, concentrate. Focus on only yer ears and body.

My fangs are the only thing you’re allowed to feel.

If ya feel it with yer whole body, ya should figure out that I’m Adam already. Right...!?

*Thud*

Yui: ...Ah...!

Yuma: ...Hurry up...Hurry up and realize, Eve...!

Hurry up and make me Adam...!

Monologue

ーー Ever since that day,

Yuma-kun became more aggressive than ever.

His irritation continued visibly growing,

and all of said frustration was pointed directly,

at my skin.

The bite marks which increased with each passing day,

made me experience his impatience first hand.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) おかげさま or ‘okage sama’ is usually used to thank someone for their help, but in this context, it is obviously meant in a sarcastic way.

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Maniac Epilogue ] [ Ecstasy 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mbyumaecstasyprolog

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ambarto · 3 years

Text

You ever get like five different ideas from angst but none of them is long enough to stand on its own and so you just make Frankenangst? Yeah

Warnings: character death, description of injuries

----

Arakano thought once he took down the chief of these creatures they would slow down. Grow fearful, perhaps, run from him.

He should have known better. It seemed the monsters were braver than Arakano had hoped. They had laughed as he took on their commander, sneered in a circle around them, sure Arakano would have lost. Arakano won, and now they were angered.

He couldn’t take them all on. His sword fell left and right, slicing heads and arms that their armors didn’t cover well enough. Where were the others of the Noldor? Arakano couldn’t see anyone past the hordes of enemies coming for him. His sword was growing heavy in his hand. His father had not been far behind him.

With a shout, Arakano killed another enemy. His breath was beginning to come short. He couldn’t hold out on his own much longer. Everything was starting to blur together-

Arakano shouted when something hit his knee. A mace he hadn’t been able to avoid. Even over the sounds of battle he heard the crack. His leg gave out beneath him, unable to support his weight.

He wasn’t getting out of here. He had pushed on too far. His father wouldn’t be able to get to him.

The one who bent over him clearly thought Arakano was already gone. It had its guard open, and Arakano thrust his sword forward, burying it right in its neck. His hand wasn’t able to keep gripping it, and it was wrenched from him.

They jumped on him as wolves on a deer. They crowded on him, covering the light.

Arakano was a warrior. Arakano had fought his way through ice and hunger. Arakano was a Prince of the house of Finwe, and if he could not win, then at least he would drag as many of these things with himself as possible. Fear barely had time to grip his heart before he lounged.

He kicked and punched and bit like an animal. A creature squealed when Arakano sunk his teeth in its dirty skin, ripping it. He swung his arms blindly, trying to hit anything around him, not even feeling the pain of his fists hitting metal armor, only satisfied that he had indeed hit something.

They grabbed him, held him down into the mud. Briefly, Arakano had time to think that his siblings would cry. Findekano for sure. Turukano and Irisse always pretended they were too strong to have feelings, but Arakano knew them better. At least, he hoped, they would be proud of him.

Then, he only had not thoughts but to scream.

They cried, when they learnt what happened to their youngest brother. Just not upon his body. Nolofinwe was the one who found him, and he did not let his other children see him. The sight, he knew, would never leave him. He did not want his children to forever see what was left of their brother in their dreams.

They found some refuge in the south, near the foot of the mountains. It was not a place anyone liked, but it seemed the fire from the north had momentarily forgotten about it. There was no other place to go, right now. Armies to the east and to the west, going for the Pass of Sirion and for Feanorian lands alike. There was nothing they could do but wait.

They also didn’t know who to ask for what to do.

Someone had managed to drag Lord Angrod off the battle field. The healers crowded around him, but any hope for him had been lost.

So much of his body was covered in burns it was horrific to watch. His flesh was exposed and blackened. In some places, his very bones could be seen. How was he even still alive was beyond anyone. Lord Angrod had always been known as stubborn. Too much.

He groaned something that could have been his son’s name. The healers did not answer him. There were no news yet from Minas Tirith. Under the black smoke that still covered the sky, it was hard to hold out any hope for them.

“’Ik... ro...” he groaned. Cough shook his chest, the same cough that plagued everyone, their lungs too full of ash. A rag had been laid upon his eyes, if only to spare the healers the sight of what the fire had done to them. Not that the rest of his face was a less gruesome sight.

“The Lord Aegnor is surely alright,” an healer told him, once she understood the sounds were an attempt to saying Aikanaro’s name.

Another healer glared at her. They all knew what had happened to their Lord’s brother. She shook his glare off. She was a healer. Her job was to ease suffering. There was nothing but death that could ease Lord Angrod’s agony, but at least she could comfort his spirit.

He would see his brother soon enough, anyways. With luck, he would not pass the night.

Turin would come.

That was what Finduilas kept repeating herself. He’d come. He’d save them. She had to cling to that thought. He would find them. He would-

The Orcs were getting restless. Finduilas didn’t understand their horrid language, but she saw how unsettled they were. They kept looking behind themselves, as if expecting something to jump them.

Finduilas wasn’t sure where they were. They seemed to be by a river, but she could not be entirely sure of which one. The Taeglin, perhaps? They had been taking detours through the forests, she was entirely lost. She tried to think of who lived in these lands - mortals, mainly, if some of them were hunting the Orcs it would explain their nervousness.

Would Turin know anyone here? Finduilas knew very little of his past before Nargothrond. Perhaps he had friends. Perhaps soon they would reach them. Finduilas tried to strain herself, but she heard nothing. She could not even turn properly to look, bound as she was.

An Orc - a sentinel - burst through the trees, shouting. Whatever he said, it put all the other Orcs on edge immediately. They got up, hands to their weapons.

The other prisoners looked at them with terrified eyes.

“Worry not,” Finduilas whispered. “I think someone is chasing us. We may yet be saved.”

“What are you yapping about?” an Orc shouted. She stood in front of Finduilas, baring her fangs to her.

Finduilas kept silent. She looked at her in the eyes, and said nothing.

“The prisoners are slowing us down,” another Orc said.

There was a general agreement between them. Finduilas’s heart jumped. Then they were being chased, after all. There still was hope.

“She is the princess, is she not?” an Orc asked, pointing at her.

Grunts of agreement.

Suddenly, Finduilas was grabbed and dragged to her feet. Fear cursed through her, but she repressed it. She could not let herself be afraid. She would keep hoping.

She did not quite feel pain. Only a strange, bizarre pressure to her chest. The Orc had moved so fast. She had not expected him to raise his spear. Even as she looked down and saw it embedded in her chest, she struggled to understand its presence.

Perhaps there would be a way to take it out.

Perhaps Finduilas should be named Princess of Futile Hopes.

Feet moved around in his field of vision. Caranthir’s eyes stared ahead, fixed on the silver hair just some paces ahead of him.

He pressed his own hand to his throat. Apply pressure. Stop the bleeding. That was how Caranthir had been told to treat open wounds. Never had he thought he would be doing it to his own neck, trying to keep himself from bleeding out on the floor of Menegroth.

He had reached the throne room just in time to see Celegorm fall. Caranthir had attempted to make his way to him, and everything he had gotten in exchange was a sword he was not able to avoid. All he could do now was bleed out, as Celegorm without doubt already had. Useless.

Given the way his ears were ringing, he wasn’t being too good about keeping his blood in.

Someone stumbled on his legs. Caranthir hoped they were a Sinda. He hated them all, right now. He had not hated them when he had come here, ready to force Dior’s hand. Now he did. Celegorm was right in front of him, lying face down, fallen by a Sinda’s sword.

He couldn’t say Celegorm had ever been his favorite brother. But he was Caranthir’s brother nonetheless. His big brother. Who used to pick Caranthir up as a child and put him on his shoulders. Who was stubborn, and reckless, and impulsive, and somehow had always seemed impossible to harm.

Tears pooled in Caranthir’s eyes. Usually, he would rather be caught dead than seen crying. He had a reputation to uphold. Now he did not have the strength to hold it back.

He was losing the struggle to stay awake. He clung to awareness, but it was sleeping between his fingers together with his blood.

Where were Maedhros and Maglor? Were they not heading here too?

Tears pooled under his face. He wanted to see them. He didn’t want the last things his eyes saw to be Celegorm’s body.

He wanted his big brothers to hold him, and lie to him, tell him everything would be fine.

What a foolish, useless wish.

Were the Valar merciful, a stone would have struck Turgon’s head, and killed him immediately.

The Valar, it seemed, were not. Or perhaps it was Turgon who was being given special treatment.

It would not be long. He did not feel anything in his lower body. He could not seem to draw his breath in. Part of what had once been his tower was pressing heavy on his chest. Was this gurgling sound his blood in his lungs?

What a fool he’d been, hoping that Gondolin may hold. He should have listened to Ulmo.

So many things he should have done. He should have protected his sister better. He should have been closer to his nephew, help him through whatever led him to this. There were so many things he wished he could have told his daughter, his son-in-law. His grandson, and may Eru make it so that the child was saved.

Such a great King, such a great kingdom. And now, in the end, only him and his regrets.

As his fea was squeezed from his body, he wondered if this was what it felt like to drown. Buried in rock and not water, but was the principle of the thing not the same? Darkness, no air, and no one to comfort you as you died.

Perhaps this was his penance for not having been faster in saving Elenwe.

#my writing #argon #angrod #finduilas #caranthir #turgon

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thessaliah · 4 years

Text

Understanding Beast VII: Olgamarie’s and her family’s Sin in FGO

Note this is speculation meta which might or might not get jossed in the future, or change when I go through another branch. It's to explore what's said in the game, adaptation and other related (Nasu approved) material to speculate the themes of part 2. Working with contrasts with previous plot relevant Beasts, setting aside Tiamat animated parallel (which could get for Beast I in the future when Solomon temple is out as well), Goetia works the best because of the origins:

King Hassan (in disguise) warns in Babylonia through flowery language warns of two evils in particular. One is pity (or compassion), and another, the complementary one, shame (or regret). Beast VII sin hasn't been assigned, however it's very likely it'll be this one. I think I've covered up since the beginning of Lostbelt my suspicion Beast VII was the culprit because this sin was particularly fitting with Lostbelts and Crypters.

Beast I and Beast VII have some sort of connection, to each other. Holmes call Beast I attack the present from the past, while Beast VII from the future. It's the destruction of the past, the end of the future which somehow provokes this.

The Time Temple is compared by Da Vinci with Chaldeas, both as conceptual replicas of something on a smaller scale. Chaldeas is probably connected to Beast VII and the bleaching because it was made to observe the future, 100 years to be precise.

Now, talking about sins seems excessive, but I'm just using some contextual language since we speak of Beasts. Evils of Humanity. Beings who bear their fangs against the Human Order of the present to safeguard the Human Order. Well, of course, we're talking about the more plot-relevant ones and we can ignore Kiara or Kama for this lore definition. That's what I'm sticking with. Given that clarification, we should recap what was Beast I to understand why Animusphere are Beast VII and why Olga in particular, rather than her father (for now?).

Beast I was the consequence of a system designed to protect the Human Order and help humanity evolve. An observation system composed first of Solomon, who died, and then the 72 pillar demons. This birthed humanity incineration in their pride and anguish of humanity perceived meaningless and suffering. It was pity for that history of pain that led to extinguish it fire to use that energy and makeover the species (and the planet) from scratch. It was because they had the authority to do so. They were a system made to evolve humans, and one with human emotion and agency, unlike Solomon who could perform his duty because he had neither of those. Roman, the human born of Solomon's wish for a second life, countered such a statement denying the rights of such authority, returning Solomon's blessings to God, completing that task. Because he believed in many futures chosen by people themselves, and not chosen by him or his replacement. The reason why Goetia became Beast I and not Solomon was because Goetia had freedom to be angry and snap back, but Solomon admitted he didn’t have such freedom, so the potential of that evil was inherent in the system: an observation system to evolve humanity. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but perhaps it is when it demands it to have the reigns and control of it.

Back to Animuspheres. Why them? Creating Chaldea seems beneficial for humanity. Well, it is... but only if Chaldea is treated like was treated under Romani, Da Vinci and Gordolf: as a group that answers emergencies that endanger the present at the time rather than in potential for a future danger. Let’s remind what Olga said in Fuyuki:

(cutting because image heavy)

On a first read, it sounds innocent, but actually, is a fairly arrogant claim. The speech beforehand should be revised (in particular with the recontextualization Mortalis Stella gives it having Emiya being angry with Olga and the Animuspheres):

Basically, if Solomon and the 72 demon gods were Observers and Administrators to evolve Humanity (something Roman undid so humanity would be free to choose going their pace). Animuspheres fashioned themselves as Observers who ensure or validate Humanity future. The results of over 2000 years of experimentation. Now here’s the question, if Beast VII is the Beast made of this system, why was Olga, and not her father, the one who transformed? While in the past, I believed Marisbury would be Beast VII, I always have to wonder one thing: what could lead a man as self-assured and pragmatic to experience such shame and regret (if that was the Beast sin as I speculated) so I had to headcanon something like “whatever he saw in the future made him feel ashamed”, but thinking about it, he couldn’t be that for a similar reason Solomon wasn’t Beast I: he didn’t have the mindset for it (in Solomon’s case, it was because he had no freedom to choose to be angry - but this weakness also exists, even in Roman who dislikes watching and making people sad, he just diverted from his potential danger by his personal journey as human). Marisbury’s simply someone who resolutely points a gun at himself and blows his brains out with a smile. He still could have been an evil of Humanity, like Solomon probably was (not the Servant record version), just unhatched because the sin assigned was never nurtured. His daughter on the other hand... Unlike her dad, Olgamarie accomplished nothing, she’s deemed as a failure, no matter how she tries, even less apt for Celestial Bodies Faculty than her father’s star pupil, Kirschtaria Wodime. She even clings to her ‘life’ in Fuyuki because of her regrets, expresses her cries for her own insignificance in her last moments unable to accept it’s over.

There surely are other factors, like humanity torturing her (Specimen E), her death, potentially being an artificial being, or family indoctrination. But it’s still Olgamarie’s choice and her flaws which led to this transformation. The emphasis made on Olgamarie’s choice was present in the Lostroom when Lev asks her what she’ll do and she doesn’t have an answer to him. Her only answer is in the game or in the storyline where she parrots they’ll protect the future:

And now we’re back to Melty Blood: Backalley Nightmare. In that story, there's an argument of approaches to how to protect humanity. One is Sion, who abandons the big picture of 'preventing' a crisis and more 'do what little I can do' with the present. This is what Chaldea, the Chaldea after Olgamarie died led by Roman and his successors, has been doing, even in the Lostbelts. They try to protect what they could, and trust for the best. The other is Siamlin, who like Animuspheres did, is trying to observe the future and take measures to prevent it before it happens, no matter what she does, she justifies it as for the sake of the future.

(and there's this warning right here).

Simultaneously there're two Olgamaries. A dead one, presumably from Siamlin’s timeline, is a child ghost with mysterious powers and says this: “The future will not change.” The other Olgamarie is actually from one of Atlas’ simulations but has become a real timeline (due to Ghost Olgamarie’s power). That Olgamarie meets Sion and has a change of heart. This is why I made emphasis on Olgamarie’s choice and agency earlier, because that Olgamarie takes FGO Olgamarie’s proud statements in the beginning about her and Animusphere’s mission and abandons it:

Our job to guarantee the future, but whose future do we guarantee? We say that we're going to ensure the future, but what kind of future do we think is good? We expanded on the land, we built cities, we crossed oceans, we travelled the skies, but for what purpose?

She concludes that, to change the future, working with the little things of the present should be more important. This speech she gives to Flauros before he detonates the bomb, and it changes everything because no bomb goes off. Nobody died. Flauros changed his mind and agreed. While the ending is all poetic and symbolic. The result is Sion winning. And the materialization is what Olga (this Olgamarie) wants, same as Roman, a bright blue future which is the symbolism for “endless possibilities” (also mentioned and reminded in Lostroom by Lev to her). The future can change.

Well, I was lengthy, but I laid out something: Beast VII being Olgamarie, other than whatever tragic thing Nasu will toss to “soften” the blame, makes a lot of sense if it’s the Beast of Shame/Regret who ends the present from the Future. Animusphere (or Animusphere experiment) connected to Chaldeas and filled to the brim with feelings of not being good enough, and who thought needed to ensure humanity’s future. However, I think the one who has to defeat Beast VII is Olgamarie herself too. Because there need to be clear that humanity doesn’t need anyone to validate the future for them and the approach to change what’s the come is more “focusing on what little you can do now” than “obtain a great power to change things” which is what Olgamarie concluded in that manga (ironically FGO Olga strongly preached for latter in her speech; it’s no surprise U Olga exists partly, IMO, due to this). It’s possible that the thematic resolution will be similar, give or add new themes with more packing punch and characters involved.

P.S. Moonlight Lostroom OVA and Mortalis Stella in particular make emphasis that Olgamarie has doubts about her mission, but it seems she sticks with it. But once again, it’s important that these got (belatedly) added to reflect the post Melty Blood manga retcons.

#fate grand order #fgo spoilers #lostroom spoilers #meta #speculation #beast #this doesn't mean u olga doesn't look and act as the opposite of cool and badass

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one-leaf-grimoire · 3 years

Text

“triad”

Chapter 21: the futile purpose

Warning: Major character death, major depictions of violence, manga spoilers

AO3 LINK

Four minutes remain before the end

This is it… almost there…

Zenon’s mouth was open slightly as he drew breath after breath, his heart pounding after the high-stakes fight that had only just begun. He had hoped the sneak attack would knock me down at least, but there I was again, standing up and as straight as I could with a bone lodged in my stomach. But he had learned valuable information from the strike. She can heal herself, almost instantly, with time magic. She’s only able to do that because she’s shedding it constantly. Perfect… His fight or flight instinct was going crazy as I took a step forward. Even if we kill her now, there’s still the other Magic Knights to take care of. They won’t stop attacking until it’s too late and the Tree has been completed. But if we keep her alive, just a little longer…

No such strategic thoughts were running through Dante’s head. His vision was red as he looked at me, gearing himself up to go in for the kill. You’ve humiliated the great Dante enough- you’ll pay with your life!

No, wait.

Dante froze as Lucifero finally spoke for the first time since the battle started. The devil had been oddly silent, even though his presence within Dante increased to 100%.

Don’t kill her… not yet. She can be of use to us.

Dante’s eyes widened a little as understanding dawned on him. He glanced over between his siblings, wondering if they were working off of the same idea.

We can do that? Then…

When I emerge… Lucifero’s voice took on a biting, bitter tone. I’ll remove that menace myself.

Menace?

…

Lucifero… just how much do you know about her?

Lucifero did not answer again. Through Dante’s eyes, his own gaze was fixed on me, on the mark emblazoned on my forehead, a deep, black color. Forbidden magic… what did she do to herself? She can’t be possessed by them… but it’s clear now. Simulcia’s will is being carried on through her descendents.

…

All four of the people present are thinking the same thing: I have to win.

I take another step towards them, gritting my teeth as the weight of the bone starts to impede my motion. Shit… I can’t fight like this- My hand grasps its diameter, and I start to release fire, burning the material away. I can heal myself better when it’s gone and-

Zenon raises his hand before I can finish.

“Bone magic: Eternal Fangs, 100%”

Before I can even move, even more bones appear from his body, shooting out at me with amplified speed. All I can do is back up as fast as I can. Shit shit! Jump- JUMP- My foot braces against the ground, ready to spring away out of range, but it’s too late. A hollow scream is ripped from my chest as more bones than I can keep track of pierce my body like a pincushion. Pain explodes in every part; in a way, it’s refreshing, something that no one recently has been able to coax from my body. But now, it’s everywhere, immobilizing me like some doll suspended from strings.

My vision goes white, metallic taste in my mouth. Zenon’s power- he’s pulling out all the stops. I try to swallow, but I just gargle. They’re really getting serious, did I fuck up? In any case, I gotta get down, before-

Right in the middle of that thought, the bones shift, lifting me up. Oh god oh god- I crack open an eye as the world spins. Suddenly, I slip right off the bones, ripped by a jolting motion. The momentum sends me flying, as if Zenon were just flicking a pesky mosquito off of his ear. I don’t have time to be afraid before I hit a wall, crashing right through it from the force. My vision blurs again, and I finally scream, more out of confusion than terror. I hit another wall, finally coming to a violent stop.

Zenon lets out a breath, his eyes not leaving the place that I disappeared into. “Vanica, Dante-”

“Got it.” At once, the two others rushed forward. Dante smirked, using his body magic to reinforce his arms for the beating that was to come. “All we have to do is knock her into that room.”

“Right, once we do that, we’ve won.” Vanica giggled in anticipation. “I might even have time to fight Noelle after this~”

Come on- Get up!

I feel time magic start to circle around my body, automatically like it always does. But it hurts this time, as it forces bones and flesh back into their places. Fragments of stone and bone are dragged along with it, and my jaw clenches tight to stay quiet. But it’s brief, and I feel my strength return. Good! I start to sit up, my hand gripping my Grimoire like a vice. Now, I just have to anticipate them better-

There’s a BOOM, and none other than Dante is suddenly right in front of me. My eyes widen, seeing that his arms are reinforced and a bloodthirsty expression is on his face. “THERE YOU ARE!” he screeches, and before I can move out of the way, he blasts me with his bare fists, an unmerciful barrage that once again sends me flying. AH! How are they so fast all the sudden-

“MY TURN! MY TURN!”

Oh no. I turn my head just in time to see that Dante had tossed me right towards Vanica. Wait! Hold on-

Of course, she doesn’t “hold on,” and I soon find myself being punched again and again, slashed at by her bloody talons. Three points of my body light up with pain: my right shoulder, my left hip, and my right knee. “HAHAHA! Look at you, can’t you keep up anymore? What happened to all that power you had before?” She giggled, slashing me one last time. With a strangled cry, I get tossed away once again. I hit the ground, immediately rolling to a stop.

Vanica chuckles before landing before me, pointing at my pitiful form as I struggle to sit up. “See there? I got you with my curses!”

Curses?! I look down at the places still pulsing with pain, and see that there are three similar marks glowing in the spots, dark blueish black spirals that float on my skin as if it were water. Uh oh, this isn’t good-

I start to clench my fist, summoning fire, but it’s slow. Vanica screeches with mirth before lunging at me again. “USELESS! Those are weakening curses! It’s going to take you a hot minute to charge up your magic now!” I look up just in time to see her Red Beast hurdling at me. “Just enough time for us to BEAT YOU!”

It hits me, and I’m once again blasted away.

… how… what’s wrong with me-

Her curse makes it hard to even move once I roll to a stop.

Just a minute ago, I was on top of the world-

Dante appears again to beat me, then back to Vanica, then back to him, then her, then him again-

W-What’s going on-

I manage to land on my feet once, but ten bones sail towards me like spears to send me crumpling back to the floor.

Where are they-

BAM. Dante’s fist hits me in the stomach, and I black out for a whole two seconds.

They’re moving differently now… they’re cooperating. It’s like… they have a strategy?

The world fades back in as I crash through another wall. Everything is spinning, and there’s nothing but the taste of blood in my mouth.

They have a plan… but what is it-

Three Minutes remain before the end

The air suddenly becomes quiet, eerily so. The silence is cold, and is only broken by a low, creaking vibration that’s more felt than heard. I blink, slowly coming back to awareness, wood against my back. The curses continue to sap away at my energy, and it takes all the strength I have to sit up. Where are they? Am I about to get hit again?

Everything hurts. Blood soaks half of my face, bubbling out from a severe wound above my hairline. One of my eyes is covered with the stuff, and when I blink, it stings.

Somehow, the attacks have stopped. Letting out a deep breath, I take the brief moment of respite to reach up and wipe my face. My right arm hangs uselessly at my side, skewered completely through by a bone. My own bones are shattered, obliterated by the brutal volley of attacks I was just put through.

Ow… ow…

My vision starts to clear once again. Something is writhing silently around me, dark shades of grey and brown. What on Earth? Is this-

It all hits me at once, the realization of where they corralled me: I’m sitting in the chamber of the Tree of Qliphoth, and am sitting on one of its branches. I crane my neck to see its many twining branches growing up and up, out of sight. Oh god… was this their plan? At the moment, I can’t feel it damaging me or anything like that, so I’m not sure what the aim of this is. Maybe it was an accident? Slowly, I look back down to see that the chamber goes farther down than I could have imagined. It’s hard to see, but there’s a large symbol on the ground below where the Tree grows from, and I feel like there are people down there.

“There you are. Good thing you didn’t fall.”

My gaze snaps up at the sound of that voice, and I see the Dark Triad standing on a branch above me, staring down at me with… apprehension? Something about their stances doesn’t make sense, but I don’t have time to think about it very deeply.

“Come on then. Get up.”

Zenon’s voice is cold, blank, merciless.

“This is where you will die, Wizard King. But we won’t do it until you show us the power you used before. That is the last gift we’ll give to you.”

The bloodlust of six beings is focused right onto me.

“Heal yourself, and die a noble death along with the rest of the world.”

…

Slowly, I reach up and grab the bone still stuck in my side. Runes start to circle around it, and I carefully tug on the bone to slide it out as the wound heals. The pain is nothing now; my mind is consumed with the task ahead of me.

I can’t lose.

That much is clear. Whatever they have planned, I won’t let them go through with it.

Despite the bone still stuck in my leg, I stand up, my knees wobbling as they desperately try to prop me up for just a little longer.

And if I die, I’m taking them all down with me!

But before that, there’s something else on my mind. If this is really the Tree of Qliphoth, then that means that William and Yami are somewhere nearby. At the very least, I have to save them, and stop this tree from growing any further. If I can do that, I’ve won.

“Are you sure you want me to heal?”

Particles of light start to circle my body, efficiently cleaning up the wounds left behind as I pull out bone after bone after bone. My right arm snaps back into place, and I flex it, from my shoulder to the tips of my fingers. Time flares up around the curses, and in an instant, they are erased.

“It’ll be the last mistake you make.”

Blood thins, and disappears, bruises evaporate, and I feel my strength return. Right now, there’s nothing more I want to do than release my forbidden sealing spell and see what happens, but I know I won’t last long if I do. Right now, I need to live, and I need to win.

...

“Remember what I taught you.”

Wind blows around me, cooling the sweat on my brow with a pleasant chill. I pant lightly, my mouth open just a little, as I get ready for the next bout.

“If you can work on your precision, you can use this power to predict the very near future.”

The sun is so bright, I can’t see his face.

I’m never going to be strong enough to do that, though… right?

“Accelerate time around your body… use what you see to win.”

No… I am strong enough.

My power surges around me, time whirling at a breakneck pace as I prepare for what could very well be the last few moments of my life.

I am strong… and I am selfless. I am the Wizard King!! Maybe I’ve sinned, far more than one person should. I’ve stolen and murdered for this power. But it’s mine now! This path I’ve walked has brought me close to temptation, close to destruction, but… there’s so much more to this world than me and Julius. Yami, William, Marx, Adeline, Joy, Fuegoleon, Charlotte, Mereo, Noelle, Mimosa, Yuno, Asta- Everyone-

Zenon, you’re right. I will die in this place. And I will die a noble death. I will die to defeat you!

And everyone I leave behind… I will leave their future up to them.

My body moves on its own, pushing forward just as it has always done. Flame, light, and time are swung from my fists as I pursue the enemy around the tree. Each of my steps hits heavy on the wood, warping it as it absorbs the blow. Zenon and the others fly ahead, staying just out of reach. Every now and then, one will turn and try to make a strike. But each time, I manage to dodge, either that or my wound is instantly healed.

Yes… more… more power-

I don’t care that each wave of magic rips more and more of my life force away; it’ll be worth it.

If I can just catch up to them-

Suddenly, as I brace against the trunk in order to leap once again, the Tree swells underneath me, almost like a wave. It catches me off guard, and I push off and away from it, my heart pounding. What on earth was that supposed to be? I think, narrowing my eyes. The Dark Triad are suddenly nowhere to be seen. The fibers of the tree leak some sort of black substance that floats like smoke through the air. Swirling menacingly as the tree itself starts to radiate power. Is this a trap? Or-

It’s right then that I realize that the tree is… bigger. Significantly bigger. I’m almost up to the ceiling now, snow and wind pelting in from above. The twining branches are now thick, a lattice that almost blocks out the sky above. My eyes widen. Wait- how long were we fighting? My perception of time is completely off, the magic still warping it around me. How tall did the tree grow just now?!

Wait…

There’s a chill in the air. Everywhere around me, I sense dark, creepy magic, opening up from seemingly no where.

Gates? But- Wasn’t this supposed to take several days? What is going on-

Is… did the gate just open all the way!?

Somewhere in my stomach, a pit starts to form. I float there, totally still, as the impending wave of despair starts to grow on my shoulders.

Did… did my magic-

I completely dominated the mana in this chamber. My Time magic permeated every square inch of it, as I sped the passage of time up and up and up- The Dark Triad stuck close to the trunk of the tree as I pursued them… all the while, the Tree was absorbing time, more and more until-

My gaze drops, to the ground far below. There’s movement.

“When the gates are open… the two catalysts will be spent.”

I drop like a rock, zooming down to the bottom of the room, my heart starting to pound faster and faster.

No… it can’t be. This is a mistake-

Things start to come into focus. I see two heavy metal coffins, both with their doors open.

They didn’t trick me… they didn’t… this isn’t happening-

I land heavily, a few meters away. There’s another man nearby, but I ignore him and run straight for the coffins.

Yami… William… did you escape? You did, didn’t you!

I run around once of the coffins and see that they are both empty.

You did! You’re out… now I just have to find-

I make the mistake of looking down.

…

Waves crested gently upon the beach as the sun started to set.

William holds a tiny hermit crab in his hand. His pants are rolled up to his knees to keep them from getting wet.

And years later… another sunset. Another smile.

“I think… another Golden Dawn awaits us both.”

Yami smiles at me, that last spark of hope that I needed to keep living.

“You’re my friend… and you’re the one Julius loved. So go.”

I feel his rough palm squeeze my shoulder before letting go.

“Go… and feel.”

…

Yami…

I drop to my knees.

William…

My hands are shaking, and I feel the last of my strength slip through my fingers.

All those years together… all those good times, all those bad times…

Why… why did they have to end like this?

There are two bodies on the ground. I can’t recognize either of them, but I know who they are.

…

...

“Go and feel.”

…

I am… I am feeling… now.

#triad #fic #bc spoilers #oc: lisa #:(((

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kore-arts · 3 years

Text

The Heroes file

I tumble quickly out of the way from the blast as I shield my friend- oh right. I'm getting ahead of myself.

Let me introduce myself, Names Thomas sanders. And this how my life went to hell and back.

Thomas slowly wakes yawning as Regulus bangs on the door “Thomas! You're gonna be late! Get your ass up!” ,he jolts up quickly and swears like a sailor as he pulls on his Steven universe shirt after quickly sniffing it. He quickly runs down and he looks at his fellow triplet roman. “Dang Ro! You look fancy!” Roman preens as he looks over his outfit, a loose sweater with a scarlet red scarf around his neck. Tight pants shape his legs.” thanks tommy salami” he laughs and winks “you look pretty good too. Trying to impress Patton?” Thomas blushed the same shade of red as Romans scarf

Thomas quickly looks sly and smirks “oh? And what about you? Trying to find your soulmate again?”

Roman was about to quickly respond as he glowed a deep red, when a wild screaming and laughter came down as Remus landed at their feet completing the group of triplets. “LETS GO” Remus quickly drags the two his crop top tattered.

Regulus’s angry yelling followed them “REMUS WHEN YOU GET HOME YOU ARE SO GROUNDED”

Remus Cackled “YOUR NOT MY PARENT BIG BRO”

Thomas and Roman both groan simultaneously, responding at the same time “Tentacle prank?”

Remus shakes his head quickly. “Naw. filled his shower with mac n cheese again. Should expect it by now” he cackles as he drags them onto the bus.

The scene shifts to a scene of chaos. A loud booming growl sounds as the sounds of large wings boom as a large dragon takes to the sky. Leaving the prison in ruin. And the release of many, many supers on the wrong side of the law.

Many of them are caught in a large web and a barrier forms a split second after. Arachne hisses “King. we caught most of them. But we have a large problem. She escaped before me or Guard could capture”

A loud swearing sounds over the comms “got it Arachne. Get the rest to the Spare. I’ll track her down.”

“Got it King. and say hi to those brothers of yours.”

King gently laughs within the Base. “will do.”

He turns and quickly gets to work.

The Dragon witch cackles silently as she searches this information from his brain “i believe its time to pay a visit to a energy facility hmm.” she jumps down and manipulates the peoples minds around her to go incognito as she plans out just how to do this.

Quickly looking around she jumped down into the sewers into her hideout. A large fanged smile spread across her face as she pulled on her slimming outfit. Fitting her hat on while smearing black eye shadow across her face like ash.

Act 2

The Electricity that arcs silently

Thomas calls out as he arrives at the steps and smiles wide as he hugs his boyfriend “hey Pat. how's the most handsome man in the world?” Patton blush and snarks “ i don't know Thomas? How are you?” They both start laughing as the school's Power couple grabs their bags.

Roman and Remus are laughing together as they point out others and gossiping.

Another in their class casts a longing look. His hands gently float up to his scars as he quickly looks away and grabs his meager lunch and heavy bag. Janus quickly wraps his thin coat around him as he waits in what normally be called a winter wonderland for the field trips bus. He looks at a fellow classmate and quickly directs their attention away from him.

Patton and Thomas come out next playfully flirting and joking around. And in what looks. To be a pun war. A bright red sports car drives in and drops off a young woman in a baggy hoodie. Mari slips behind everyone to be unseen. Roman slides by her and hands a small package to her. “Your binder came in Marin. Are you sure that your dads wont accept you?” Marin shrugs “just… I'm not ready. I heard what my grandparents and aunt did after Pops came out… and that makes me really nervous” Roman nods understandingly “i got you. Well. looks like we are about to leave. Wonder where Dark and Stormy is?” Marin just shrugs.

A black and sleek car screeches in as he quickly parks holding lots of coffee. “HERE HERE!!” he quickly dispersed the coffee between everyone. Virgil says “Janus! I got you a tea cause i know you can't have coffee or chocolate” Janus smiles wide “thanks man. I appreciate it” the bus pulled in right then and there. Everyone climbs in quickly and Remus snickers as he somehow gets the back seat.

They arrive after roman had to separate the two lovers from making out and shoving Virgil and Marin together to actually talk. But noooo they just sat in anxious silence much to Romans frustration. An unseen figure stares down at the group and searches their minds for the most useful a horrid laugh that would ice over even the warmest hearts sounds. “How… ironic the most useful is King's brother!” Dari jumps down and quickly makes eye contact. Remus’s eyes glaze over in a sheen of a fires red before he blinks and it's gone.

Roman walks over “hey Re? You spaced out there.” Remus looks over and smiles gently “eh. Its chill thought i saw a squirrel” he looked excited, all effects apparently gone. Remus suddenly punches Romans arm “yellow punch buggy!” Roman groans and a subtle flash of light heals the bruise. The teacher gathered everyone and paired everyone in groups of 4. Virgil,Remus,Roman and Thomas were together and due to too many kids Patton joined them. And the class went to explore and do the activities set out to educate them.

Later as the sun sets and our group is left behind Remus’s eyes glazed again. Roman jerks away, recognizing that effect “Re! C'mon fight it!” Remus robotically swipes his hand sending everyone flying back. Thomas and Patton slammed against the rails and slipped over the edge. Thomas’s gipping the rail and Patton's hand

Thomas calls out “Remus! This isn't you!!”

A Icy laugh sounds behind him “no it isn't little Royals.” Dari Gripped Remus’s shoulders “now it's time for us to take our leave. Do it Remus.” Remus flinches as he tries to fight but becomes limp like a puppet. A sweeping energy swept the place as it crumbled electricity arcs as Thomas is hit in the back and falls with Patton.

They hug each other as they fall to what they think is their deaths. Roman screams, catching Thomas and he gasps in horror as he sees Patton dead. Virgil was thrown outside as both Dari and Remus ran out. Dari smirks and quickly suppresses all of his memories. And in a flame they both disappear. King arrives quickly as he sees everything destroyed. Roman is holding Thomas and is crying in despair. “I-i couldn't save them. I COULDN'T SAVE REMUS OR PATTON” his heart breaking voice sounds out as he sobs. Regulus hugs him “i know. I know it's not your fault” he comforts them as sirens sound behind them. Soon Virgil and Thomas are loaded in. both unconscious.

Ruins left behind. and that event is what changed my life. for ever.

#sanders sides #sanders side fic #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #janus sanders #own character

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mischiefandspirits · 3 years

Text

Colony of Gotham (6/7)

The Colony of Gotham is an urban legend that is whispered about in the dangerous city. It’s said the Colony is a family of demons and spirits that stalk the night, hunting for the souls of the guilty.

When Bruce became Batman, he’d never intended to be mistaken for a demon. He was happy to lean into it, though, and as he gained his partners – as his family grew – they all followed suit.

First Part ~ Previous Part ~ Next Part

Vampires’ animal forms

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

When they woke up, Young Justice was lying inside a small recess in the wall of a large cavern. Thick bars separated them from the main cavern while an innocent-looking blue rock hung over them.

“Shouldn’t we call Batman and Catwoman now?” a deep voice asked from somewhere out of sight.

“We don’t know where they are,” a staticky voice answered.

“Didn’t they go to the Maldives?”

“I thought they were in Lapland,” a third voice, high and echoey, said before continuing with, “No, Father clearly said they would be in Antarctica.”

“They told me they were going on an African safari,” a fourth added, and the group all turned to a pale Cassie since the voice sounded exactly like her.

“Yeah, apparently they lied so we couldn’t mess with them during their trip. Corvid figured it out, but Pythia’s been keeping him from tracking down where they actually went,” the staticky voice explained.

“You demons don’t need to be bothering them. We’ve got this under control,” the team heard Pythia say.

There were some bird sounds, followed by an animal growling.

“Corvid’s got a point. Someone’s eventually going to notice the team’s missing,” the deep voice pointed out.

“Who asked you, Day Shift?” the staticky voice huffed.

“Leave him alone. You don’t even live here,” the high voice snapped, then added, “Neither do you. You are only here until Father and Catwoman return.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Did no one tell Robin that Catwoman and Robin were moving in?” the staticky voice snickered.

“Can we please focus?” Pythia asked as the high voice started stammering and multiple laughs rang out.

“I don’t know why I thought you’d all be more collected while on the job,” a familiar voice said and the team perked up.

“No clue. You really should have known better,” Spirit-Nightwing answered.

“Wally!” Bart shouted before he could stop himself and the team all glared at him.

The cave went silent, then Nightwing walked into view, followed by a younger man in a feathered cape and a small child covered in blood. Nightwing smiled at them while the other man seemed to study them and the child bared his fangs.

“Morning, Young Justice,” Nightwing chirped. “You already know who I am. This is Corvid and Robin.”

“Let us out of here,” Kon growled, punching the bars. He hissed and yanked his hand back when the punch actually hurt.

Corvid pointed up at the ceiling and trilled.

“Blue kryptonite,” Robin translated. “It takes away your powers without the pain and exhaustion of the green variant.” He crossed his arms and glared at Corvid. “I still say we should have just used green.”

The feathered spirit smacked the back of his head and the demon child drew his sword.

“We’re not torturing them. We might not be human, but that doesn’t mean we have to be inhumane,” the staticky voice said and a cloaked figure appeared next to Corvid in a shimmer. A growl came from somewhere else and the figure said, “Yes, I’m sure. Don’t mind Robin and Red Hood. One was raised to be an assassin and we’re still teaching him that killing is wrong while the other’s a thug with anger issues. I’m Batgirl, by the way.”

“She’s lying about the assassin thing, right?” Kon heard Wally whisper and someone shushed him. “No, seriously. I need to know if he’s meant all those threats he’s been giving me the past couple of years.”

“Super hearing, dork! Shut up!” Kon’s voice hissed at Wally and Kon frowned.

“Years?” he asked and Red Hood growled again.

Nightwing and Corvid gave confused frowns that the team might have believed if Batgirl didn’t smack her forehead and Robin didn’t shoot a glare off to the side.

“Oops,” Wally muttered.

“Nice,” the deep voice sighed as someone snickered.

“I’m going to kill him,” Robin said and Nightwing grabbed him with one hand and disarmed him with the other.

“See! Does he mean that?” Wally whispered.

“No, you’re not. He’s mine,” Nightwing said firmly.

Robin looked about to argue before a beep came from him and he growled. “One moment.”

As he slipped away, Jinny asked Kon, “What happened? What’s going on?”

“I can hear Wally. He said something about Robin threatening him for years.”

“So this is why they used to call you Kid Mouth.”

The team froze as they recognized Tim’s voice. Bart darted to the bars and tried to look around the wall. “Tim?”

“What did you do to him?” Kon growled.

“Calm down, your boyfriend’s fine,” Robin said as she walked back up. She climbed up Nightwing to sit on his shoulders with a wide smile that flashed her fangs. Corvid trilled and she turned to him. “Really? Then is he dating Kid Flash or Wonder Girl this time?”

“He isn’t dating any of them right now,” Nightwing answered.

“How do you keep track?” Batgirl asked, causing Robin and a few of those out of sight to snicker.

Kon, Bart, and Cassie all glared at her, then turned the glares on Jinny and Keli when they snickered too.

“Anyways, Timmy isn’t here,” Batgirl said. “That was just Hawkfire. She only speaks with other people’s voices.”

“Hi there!” came Bart’s voice.

“Now where were we?” Nightwing asked just as a dark shape dropped down next to him. He turned to it with a frown. “Black Bat? What are you doing down here?”

She made a few signs with her hands.

“What? Hood, go -”

“I better be wrong or I swear I’ll send you all to hell the hard way!”

The team perked up at the sound of Tigress’s shout and Nightwing groaned.

“Well, we’re dead,” Robin said, sliding down Nightwing so she was clinging to his back.

“It’s been nice knowing you.” Batgirl saluted them then disappeared the same way she’d come.

“Where are you demons?”

“Hey there demons, it's me, ya boy,” Kon heard Wally mutter.

“West!”

“Oh, hey Stripes. So -”

“Where are they?”

“We can exp-”

“You!”

Suddenly Tigress marched into view and grabbed Nightwing by the front of his suit, earning a yelp from Robin.

He gave her a nervous -- yet somehow still flirty -- smile. “Hey.”

“Tigress!” Cassie called.

The older heroine glanced at the team and her glare grew. She shoved Nightwing away and rubbed her forehead. “What happened?”

“They came to bother Tim and Hood overreacted. We were just going to give them a scare and send them off.”

“We did warn them to stay out of Gotham,” Pythia said.

Corvid trilled and Hawkfire translated in Tim’s voice, “They were getting on Tim’s nerves too, so we were doing him a favor.”

Tigress glanced over her shoulder with a frown. “Okay, that’s freaky.”

“Thanks,” her own voice answered.

“Don’t ever do that again.” She turned back to Nightwing. “I’m taking them back to the tower.”

He nodded. “Yeah, alright.”

“You’re letting us go. Just like that?” Keli asked skeptically as Corvid unlocked their cell.

“We respect Tigress,” Nightwing said with a shrug.

“She minds her own business,” Robin added.

“We can’t leave. They have Wally,” Bart pointed out.

“I’m taking him too,” Tigress said.

“But he’s my -”

“No," she cut over Nightwing. "This stupid game is over. Congratulations, the whole League is thoroughly traumatized. Mission accomplished.”

“You know what, I’ll take it,” Hawkfire said in Bart’s voice.

“Me too,” Batgirl agreed. “Want to go watch Gotham Girls?”

“Heck yeah,” Cassie’s voice answered. “Coming Black Bat?”

The shadow nodded and skipped off as the deep voice said, “No way I’m letting you guys leave me alone with them. You coming, Robin?”

“You know it.” She dropped off Nightwing’s back in a flip and ran off.

Robin and most everyone else who must have been in the cave had disappeared by the time Corvid opened the door to let the team out because the only ones with them in the cave were Tigress, Nightwing, Corvid, Flash, and a tall man in red and black.

Bart raced over to his uncle, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“Me? You got kidnapped!”

“So did you.”

“You got kidnapped first!”

“He never got kidnapped. He and the rest of these idiots just wanted to screw with the League,” Tigress said and Flash and Nightwing both pouted.

“We were warning them to leave us alone,” the spirit argued.

“You were trolling them because you and your siblings are all chaotic little brats who can’t help yourselves.”

Red Hood growled with a nod and Corvid trilled with a shrug.

“Would the two of you just talk like normal people?”

Red Hood flipped her off while Corvid gave an offended face, setting his hand on his chest.

“That’s some discrimination right there,” Flash said and Nightwing nodded.

“Shut up. We all know they’re just doing it to be extra,” Tigress said, running a hand over her face. She pointed at the team and Wally. “Alright, we’re leaving now.”

“Hold on, what’s going on?” Keli asked.

“What do you mean Flash wasn’t kidnapped? How do you know them?” Kon asked, looking them over. Flash had seemed terrified of the Colony before, now he seemed relaxed. Had they done something to him? Or maybe… Hawkfire had copied voices, so maybe they could copy more?

Kon closed his eyes and listened for heartbeats. He could hear Jinny’s, Keli’s, and Tigress’s steady human beat; Bart’s and Flash’s (thankfully) rapid-fire thumps; Cassie’s gong-like pounding; and the sloshing pulses of Red Hood, Nightwing, and -

Kon’s eyes sprung open and he turned to Corvid. The spirit went stiff as their eyes met, before slumping and giving a sharp whistle that had Red Hood and Nightwing looking at him in confusion.

“Tim?”

Everyone’s heads snapped to Kon, then Red Hood smacked Nightwing’s arm and snarled.

“What? How is this all my fault?” Nightwing whined.

“You just had to tease Flash,” Corvid -- Tim! -- sighed.

“TIM!”

Tim pulled down his cowl and his brothers revealed themselves shortly after. They explained that they weren’t demons, they just leaned into the rumors because fear made people sloppy. When questioned, Tim told them that yes, that had just been a jacket and no, he hadn’t tricked them on purpose. They really were just being paranoid idiots.

He really didn’t appreciate how stunned they all seemed by the idea of him being a vigilante.

“I told you I could handle myself!”

“You drink coffee like its water.”

“I have to ban you from working so you'll take a break.”

“You never sleep!”

“You never EAT!”

“Okay, but like he also pulls the stupidest shit so why are we surprised again?”

Tim threw his hands in the air and marched off when the team and his brothers all nodded at that. Dick and Jason followed, Dick ruffling his hair and Jason bumping their shoulders together. Once the brothers had changed back into civilian clothes, the group headed upstairs where Stephanie, Duke, Cass, and Bette were watching tv.

“You guys dropped the ball already?” Stephanie asked, not looking away from the tv.

“Figures,” Bette tutted, holding out her bowl of popcorn for Cass.

The younger girl nodded as she grabbed a handful.

“Copycat cheated,” Dick said.

“Copycat? You’re the one who stole my name.”

“Kid, he’s been Nightwing longer than you’ve been alive,” Jason pointed out.

“He’s not even Kryptonian,” Kon huffed. “And you’re only three years older than me.”

“Technically I’m seventeen years older than you.”

“No clone jokes,” Tim said, slapping Jason’s arm.

“Yeah, it’s like Dick jokes. Low hanging fruit. You can do better than that,” Stephanie said, throwing a piece of popcorn at Jason.

He caught it in his mouth.

“How’d Kon cheat?” Duke asked, actually turning to face the group, unlike the girls.

“He heard Timmy’s heartbeat.”

“I’m already making plans to implement some sort of white noise generator or something into the suit to keep that from happening again,” Tim said.

“Why? Are you planning on getting comfy with someone else with super hearing?” Stephanie asked, finally turning away from the tv so she could wiggle her eyebrows at Tim. “How did he become familiar enough with your heartbeat to be able to identify it, hm?”

“And I’m gone,” Jason growled and marched out of the room.

“I’m just looking out for you, Timmy. Wouldn’t want another accident like our twins.”

Wally and Bart choked as the rest of Young Justice gaped and Artemis raised an eyebrow.

“You have kids?” Kon breathed.

“No. No! We do not have any kids!” Tim said quickly before trilling at Stephanie, “They don’t know we’re vampires! And quit saying your fangs are our kids!”

“How was I supposed to know?” she trilled back and threw her hands up in the air before turning to the tv. “And never.”

“It’s an inside joke from when they were dating,” Duke explained. “Kind of a you had to be there thing. They don’t have kids.”

“Do you guys just always make bird noises at each other?” Jinny asked, gesturing between the two.

“It’s a code Tim made up years ago. We use it on the job when we don’t want to risk people eavesdropping on us so it’s basically a second language for all of us by this point,” Dick said.

“What’d you guys do to Jason?”

The team jumped as Robin’s voice came from above them and looked up to see Carrie hanging from a light fixture.

“No voice filters in the manor,” Dick reprimanded and Carrie pouted at him.

“Should she be up there?” Keli asked.

“Bruce reinforced anything that hangs from the ceiling after Dick brought down his third chandelier. It’s fine,” Tim said before looking up at Carrie. “Steph was talking about relationship stuff.”

“Ew.”

“You know, Timmy, you didn’t answer my question,” Stephanie hummed.

“I’m not hooking up with anyone else,” Tim sighed. “I just want to be prepared. I mean, you’re friends with Kara and Damian’s friends with Jon. Either one of them could figure it out.”

“It might be too late for Jon,” Bette said.

“What do you mean?” Kon asked.

She gestured towards the door to the parlor. When the others peeked inside, it was to see Damian and Jon curled up on the couch, each holding a Switch. “They were already there when we came up.”

“Yes, flee you sniveling boy! Fear the power of Anser caerulescens!” Damian shouted at the game.

“You’re so weird,” Jon teased, bumping against him. “Hey look, I’m on tv! Watch me dance! Honk honk!”

“And you claim I’m weird.”

Kon stepped into the room and crossed his arms. “You were playing video games while I was being kidnapped?”

Jon looked up at him, confused.

The boy had texted his friend after he heard his mom and dad talking about how Kon had disappeared right after Flash had been kidnapped in Gotham. Damian texted back saying, “Your brother and his friends are down in the basement, as is West. If any more people come here, yourself included, I will end them.”

So Jon had immediately flown over.

“What part of stay away didn’t you get?” Damian huffed, opening the window to his room.

“The part where everyone else is already over here. You have something on your neck.”

“It’s fake blood. My brothers and I are playing a prank on your brother and his friends.”

“Sounds fun. Do you need to get back?”

“Carrie is covering for me. I assumed you would not heed my warning.”

“Cool. I brought my Switch. Wanna play?”

“I suppose,” Damian shrugged. “I left mine in the parlor. We can grab some snacks on our way.”

“Yes!”

“Did you tell your parents you were coming here?” Damian asked once they were sitting on the couch with their games.

“Mom knows. She’ll probably tell dad.”

“Good. Did you have a plan for how you were going to explain how you’d gotten here?”

“Everyone here knows I’m Superboy.”

“I meant if someone were to show up who doesn’t know.”

“Oh, I figured I’d just say I’d come with Kon.”

“Acceptable. Shall we play the game with the misleading title?”

“It’s not misleading.”

“Its title claims it to be untitled. That is an oxymoron.”

The two bickered as they settled in, but quickly got drawn into their game. They ignored it when the others passed through until Kon interrupted them.

“You were playing video games while I was being kidnapped?”

Jon looked up at him, confused. “Kidnapped?”

Damian rolled his eyes with a snort. “You call that a kidnapping? Your heart didn't even stop.”

“See, when he says things like that, it makes me wonder about the whole assassin thing,” Wally whispered to Dick.

“I’ll explain later.”

“And by later he means after we’ve reassured everyone that you lot haven’t been kidnapped by demons,” Tigress said.

“Demons?”

“The prank. They didn’t tell anyone they were coming here so your dad’s going crazy, remember?”

“Oh, alright.”

“Come on, Jon,” Kon called as Tigress started herding them all out.

The boy stuck his tongue out at him. “Unlike you, I told Mom I was coming here. She already okayed the sleepover.”

“I never said you could stay the night,” Damian huffed half-heartedly before snapping, “Get back you harlot! The leek is mine now!”

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

Before anyone can say anything about how "That's not how blue kryptonite works!" I know. I do. The problem is that I wrote that scene using what I remembered from Smallville. It was only when I looked up BK during edits to make sure I'd gotten the right color that I realized the show took some liberties with how the other colors of kryptonite worked. I decided to just go with it since the others don't actually want to hurt Kon. I'm sure there's probably another way out there (probably something to do with red sunlight), but I don't actually know that much Superman lore outside of Smallville and even that's been quite a few years so...

#batman #batfam #colony of gotham #fanfiction

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whumping-every-day · 5 years

Text

Vampire Whump 7

After two whole weeks, here is part seven! It feels a bit filler-esque to me, but I di d my best.

Tagging the wonderful people who have supported me and asked for more! @pepperonyscience @robinshouseofwhump @angelsuperwholock @pennsss @silver-sparrow-462 @silverinkgoldenquill @kestrelsparverius @learningtowhump @latenightcupsofcoffee @thebluejayswhump @what-huh-imconfused @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic @pink-and-purple-flowers @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whump-em @umniyah-s @adventuresofacreesty @to-hurt-and-comfort

Ash’s FC, Callum’s FC

Masterlist

When morning comes, the scorching heat comes with it, and for a moment everything is familiar. The creature wakes itself up screaming.

The vampire is used to burning, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. Its mouth is free, and the sounds of agony and panic are so much louder in the absence of the muzzle. The pain crawls up its leg, slow and hot. The creature can’t remember where it is, and it doesn’t even try to wonder. The sensation is so horrible familiar, so known, that the vampire sinks back into mindless agony without missing a beat.

Callum is awake and on his feet in the same motion, and he’s got his knife out before he knows where the screaming’s coming from. The abrupt change from slumber to hyper-alertness is dizzying. It takes him a long moment to figure out what’s happening. There are no attackers, there is no threat. But somehow, Callum has forgotten about the sun.

“Shit. Shit.”

The vampire is thrashing against the chain, and its whole body is straining to escape the thin finger of sunlight.

The creature’s skin is bubbling and peeling, and it can’t seem to calm down enough to stop thrashing and minimize the damage. Its motions are frantic, eyes rolling and wide with animal frenzy, and it’s with a cold realization that Callum remembers he had chosen not to muzzle it. It’s panicking, and he can see the creature’s fangs.

Callum is spitting a constant string of curses, but he lunges for his discarded blanket, and then gets in as close as he dares. Any hunter knows that a terrified, wounded animal is the most dangerous kind, especially when it’s trapped. He doesn’t even bother trying to talk to it, not with the way the vampire is yowling and clawing at its own skin.

Callum drags in a slow breath, trying to center himself, and then he lunges and tackles the creature with the blanket. The vampire cowers and bucks, somehow both struggling and sobbing in terror. “Stop it!” Callum hisses, even as he twists and shoves, forcing the vampire onto its stomach. “Still, hold still, I’m trying to help - stop fighting me!” As soon as it’s down, Callum pins it by the back of the neck, preventing any potential biting. The blanket is halfway on top of it, but there’s still the sound of sizzling from somewhere, a patch of skin that isn’t covered yet.

The vampire is crying in Callum’s grip, but as soon as it’s down it stops struggling. Callum’s heart is pounding, and he yanks the blanket over the vampire properly with his free hand. The creature squirms weakly and then goes limp with a whimper, and Callum can hear the way it’s heaving and gasping. But it hasn’t tried to twist around and bite him, it hasn’t even tried to claw at Callum’s wrist.

Callum takes the sudden lack of struggling to mean that it’s calmed down, when in fact, the creature has simply gone distant in its own head. The combination of the burning sun and being manhandled has sent the vampire’s mind spinning and grasping for escape. The hunter is still pinning it to the floor, and Callum shifts so he’s not pressing as hard, wincing. The creature was already so badly injured, and in its panic it could have hurt itself more... and in subduing it, Callum could have hurt it more.

“Still, buddy. That’s it.” Callum feels a bit like he’s talking to a wall. There is no response, nothing beyond a minute trembling. The vampire isn’t struggling. Callum hesitates, and he cautiously loosens his grip at the nape of the vampire’s neck. It’s fully covered by the blanket, now, but Callum can still smell burned flesh, and it makes his stomach turn. After a few moments, Callum pulls back just enough to assess the situation. The creature’s ankle is still bound in the manacle, and the bit of exposed skin is beyond the sun’s reach. It’s no longer burning, but it’s still injured.

Callum lets out a gusty breath and releases the creature.

“Well that’s a shit way to start the day,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face.

In the end, Callum has to bind the creature in the burlap fabric and rope again. He seriously considers muzzling it, if only for his own safety. In the panicked frenzy earlier, it would have been so easy to bite him, even by accident. But the creature is breathing in short, frenetic bursts, and it’s totally unresponsive when Callum moves it. Its legs are still grotesquely broken; they’d never healed to begin with, not with the amount of blood Callum had been able to spare. It isn’t trying to bite him, or to do much of anything. In the end, he leaves it alone, and the vampire stares dully at nothing while he lashes the rope around its ankles, knees, waist and elbows. Callum is extra careful when he covers the head.

The whole thing feels like he’s missed a step.

When all is said and done, the vampire hadn’t burned for that long. The progression of it waking up screaming to Callum covering it back up had taken less than a minute. But the consequences linger.

They linger as Callum packs up camp, and the creature lies still on its side, unmoving and completely silent behind the fabric. They linger as Callum picks it up again, and the vampire gives a quiet, punched-out sob. They linger as Callum puts out the last embers of the fire and swings up onto the horse.

“I’m sorry,” Callum says to it when they are finally on their way.

The bundle of fabric doesn’t respond, and this time when Callum rests a hand on its back, it doesn’t stop shaking.

The next hours of travel fall into a pattern. They ride during the day, and it is hot and sweaty and grimy. At night, the vampire is chained by the ankle to the base of a tree, and Callum makes sure it is in the shadows this time, protected from the rising sun. He also retrieves the same blanket from the night before.

“Hey. This is yours.” The horse is nibbling at a patch of dry grass, and Callum is holding out the blanket to the vampire. “I mean, it can be yours, now. Uh.” Callum coughs. Why is he trying to talk to it, anyway? “Here.” He drops the blanket over the creature’s dirty, curled-up body, and there’s a minute flinch, but no other change. But Callum sees the thin fingers that wind hesitantly in the fabric as he walks away.

It’s been a long day, and Callum knows that the vampire is still hurting. But he can offer no more blood on the road than he already has, and they are nearly home, to Callum’s equipment and supplies. With them, he can help. He is almost afraid to look at the creature too closely, for fear of the injuries he’d find. The vampire’s body is gnarled and warped, twisted in some places and concave in others, and Callum has a horrible feeling that there will be things that need re-breaking before they will mend.

He can’t do such things on the road.

“Try and get some sleep,” he says quietly. “Tomorrow’s our last day of travel. Then we can rest.”

The vampire is watching him, Callum realized belatedly. It’s got brown eyes like a doe’s eyes, and for just a second, it feels like the breath’s been punched right out of him. Its gaze is captivating, and it’s the first time it’s seemed like the creature is fully present. Then the vampire realizes that Callum has seen it staring, and it flinches again and hides its face in the blanket.

“Yeah. Goodnight to you too.” Callum doesn’t frighten the creature any further by trying to engage. Instead, he makes sure that the horse has access to grass and water and checks her feet for stones and swelling. When he makes his way to sleep, the stake stays on his belt, and the knife goes under his pack, which he is using as a pillow.

Oddly enough, Callum thinks, it’s not the vampire across from him that he’s guarding against. Callum hesitates to call the creature a monster, even though he’s never had a problem with the word before. But this particular vampire looks less like a beast, and more like a boy. And it’s getting more difficult to tell the difference.

It’s an odd sense of deja-vu as he lays down to sleep, and he can only see the vampire’s brown curls peeking over the edge of the blanket. Its hair is really quite a mess, Callum thinks as the exhaustion of travel starts to catch up with him. He’ll have to clean the creature up when they get home… and he’ll have to find it more blood.

A lot more blood.

Then it will be time to research how to set a dislocated joint, because now that he’s had the thought, Callum can’t help but see it. The vampire always curls up on its right side, and the left is visibly misshapen, even under the blanket.

“Fuck,” Callum mutters, just once more.

Morning comes gently, this time, with the slow stirring of forest wildlife and the chirping of summer birds. Callum is awake before the sun crests the horizon, and he spends a few minutes tending to the horse, combing over her coat and feeding her bits of dried apple, working at the leather of her saddle.

The vampire wakes to the feeling of being outside, and horror trickles in. It has been here before, outside in the morning light, strung up in the village square while the people waited for the sun to come up – so many mornings started this way, so many watching eyes --

“Hey! Whoa, hey, easy there.” Callum has no idea what the creature is seeing, but it’s keening pitifully and rocking back and forth, its eyes wild and distant. It’s not thrashing this time, but it’s doubled over at the waist, curling its right arm (its good arm, Callum thinks grimly) around its waist.

The creature doesn’t seem present, but it’s still making that keening sound, high and strained as if it can’t get enough air to scream louder. The sound of it raises the hair on Callum’s neck.

The blanket has fallen off its bare shoulder, and this time, Callum barely hesitates before ducking into range. The creature could bite him, twist around and savage him, but Callum doesn’t think it will. He doesn’t think this thing will be attacking anyone, ever again.

The blanket goes up and over the vampire’s head, and Callum can feel the way the creature convulses in terror under his touch. He wraps the blanket more firmly around it and then sits back, within arms reach but not touching.

“Listen to me, kid.” The vampire bleats in terror at the sound of his voice, but Callum just gentles his tone and tries again. “Easy,” he murmurs. “Listen. Focus on my voice. You’re not in the sun. You’re not going to burn. Remember where you are.” That sense of déjà vu is back, Callum thinks bitterly. They’ve been here before. How many times has this vampire been hurt like this?

The vampire can’t see much past the fabric, but its heart is beating wildly in its chest. It remembers where it is in increments – it’s the second day, now, since the golden-haired hunter had taken it away. Two days since its world had tilted on its axis. But also… two days since it had last been hoisted up in the air and left to burn. Two days since it has last been beaten.

“Hey.” The hunter’s voice is startling, and much closer than the creature expects. It flinches with a little whimper, but it quickly tucks its head back down and goes back to its tightly curled ball. It can’t remember any commands being given, so it can only be small and still and quiet. It’s trying to behave, the creature thinks desperately, it’s trying to be good, so there’s no need to pull the blanket off and listen to it scream, no need…

“Can you just-” The hunter breaks off with a groan, and then there’s motion.

Callum is pushing back to his feet, shaking his head as he goes. He’d almost asked the creature if it could understand him, as if that wasn’t an idiotic question. Even if the vampire had enough humanity left to comprehend his speech… it probably wouldn’t last long. The creature has calmed, it wasn’t disoriented and panicked anymore, and that was all he’d wanted to accomplish.

He doesn’t talk to it, this time, when he returns to wrap it in the burlap fabric and rope. It moves like a doll in his hands, and Callum almost wonders if it would have been better, somehow, if the vampire had struggled. It would feel less like transporting a hollow shell, or a giant child’s discarded toy.

The last day of travel is the worst, as it always is. Callum is tired and sore, and he knows the vampire is doubly so. The sun beats heavy on his back, and even the horse seems tired, dragging her feet as she plods onwards.

The lights of his town greet them just as the sun begins to fade. Electricity is a possibility, but most of the light comes from oil lamps, strung up from the gates to guide weary travelers. It’s a shallow valley surrounded by rolling hills, and the vegetation slowly starts to turn greener as they grow closer.

It looks welcoming enough, but Callum avoids the official roads as they make their way inwards. His lab is on the outskirts, between the stables and the brewery. The stable keeper welcomes him back and doesn’t ask any questions, and Callum is grateful for that. People are not fond of vampires, and often they are not fond of hunters either – so Callum pays the man and gives his horse one last pat, before slinging the vampire over his shoulder again.

The creature doesn’t make a sound as it is picked up, despite how the pain sears through it. It is dizzy from exhaustion and pain, and it feels flayed and cracked open inside, as if it simply can’t feel any more terror. Yet, somehow, it is rediscovering fear as they walk. This is it, the creature knows; this is its final reckoning. This is when it discovers what the hunter wants it for. Will it be cast into another stone room and bound with iron shackles to the wall, or perhaps hung from the ceiling? Or maybe this hunter has a cage, simple but effective.

The vampire is trembling as it is carried. The man has been lenient with it, the creature knows this. And it has tried to be good, it has tried to show that it will not resist, that it doesn’t need to be put down to know its place. But that was while they were on the road.

Now they are in the hunter’s lair.

A door unlocks, and the sound of it fills the vampire with icy, irrational dread. It echoes in the new space, and the hunter sets his lantern down and strides further into the building.

The vampire cannot see, but it can imagine.

“You sleep here.” There’s clanking and a groaning of metal, and the vampire knows that sound – that is the sound of a cell opening. The hunter’s weight shifts forward, and the vampire flinches and braces itself; it is fully expecting to be thrown, or dropped. This, at least, is familiar, and the vampire wonders if it will be allowed to huddle in a corner and lick its wounds for the night, or if the torment will start immediately. But instead of being tossed carelessly inside, the hunter carefully lowers it onto the stone floor.

Or – not the floor. The creature gasps and shivers, feeling the slight give of whatever the surface was. It was thin, and smelled faintly musty, but it was soft… a cot? Was the creature lying on a cot?

“We’re going to take care of your injuries tomorrow. When I can see straight again. For now, rest.” Callum’s fingers brush over its hair, ever so slightly, and the vampire can’t help a plaintive little whine. It smells very strange, like chemicals and metal, and the creature still does not understand why it was brought here. But it does understand that this man is its whole world now, the only constant. This hunter is the only one who can dish out judgment or relief.

“Easy, kid.” The creature squeezes its eyes shut and lets its head fall again. It knows the hunter is lying, faking, when he speaks so softly to it. But it’s a tone without disgust or rage, and the vampire trembles under it, from both need and fear.

The ropes that bind it are cut, this time, instead of untied. The creature is perfectly still while the hunter works; it’s almost familiar, now, to have those large, calloused hands peeling the fabric away from its skin. If it does not resist, it will not be hurt. That is what the vampire has learned, and it clings to that, prays for it.

“There we go.” The vampire has forgotten the man’s name. But his presence presses down on the creature with a mighty weight, and the vampire gives a quiet, beseeching little whimper. They’re in the hunter’s home, now, and the vampire is so afraid that things will change… or that they won’t. “Shhh, I know. Time to rest.” If it is stillness and silence that has earned it this mercy, the creature thinks absently, then it will be still and silent forever.

The fabric is taken away and bundled up, and the vampire remembers that it is naked. Being covered up and carried around during their travel had almost felt like being clothed. But the time for such dignities is over, now.

Something settles over its skin, and the vampire draws in a sharp breath.

“I believe that’s yours.”

It’s the same blanket. The one the hunter had given it on the road. The creature’s breath comes out shaky, and in a fit of bravery the vampire lurches up and then flattens itself to the ground at the hunter’s feet. It can’t speak properly, not after the muzzle, but it makes an attempt. “Th-th-nngh. Th-tha-“ The moment it starts to sound like actual words, the vampire clamps a hand over its mouth with a whimper. No. Things did not speak. But it has to express its gratitude somehow. Thin, crooked fingers reach out to just barely brush the hunter’s boot, and the motion is thankful and awed in equal measure. Its hands are fragile and vulnerable, so close to the man’s spurs, but the hunter is quickly stepping out of range.

“Fucking shit. Just - just rest, would you?”

The words are like ice down the creature’s spine, and it whimpers a pitiful apology – but then the door is clanging shut again, and there’s a loud, decisive click.

Footsteps move away, and it realizes with a jolt that it is alone, abrupt and final.

The vampire lies in the darkness for a few long minutes, trying and failing to process what has happened. This man, this human… he is a strange one. That makes him unpredictable. But the cell the creature finds itself in isn’t cold, and there is something to lie on and cushion its battered body… and suddenly, that luxury is so unexpected that it is frightening.

Despite all the vampire’s aches and pains, the cot abruptly feels too soft. It’s too malleable, too much give, it won’t bruise and graze the creature’s skin like it deserves.

It’s further to the ground than the vampire expects, and it falls with a quiet thump. It’s left gasping for air as stars explode in its vision. The motion reminds it of every injury that hasn’t healed, the old ones deep inside and the new ones both.

There’s a space underneath the cot, narrow and dark, and the vampire clumsily presses back into it. There is no true safety, the creature knows that. But it feels the smallest bit more secure when it curls up in the darkest corner with walls on two sides.

The vampire hesitates, before a pale hand timidly snakes out and grabs the blanket. It can’t sleep in the cot, it’s not allowed. But the hunter gave it the blanket. The blanket came with them on the road, the creature can’t make it any dirtier. So maybe it’s okay.

It is not chained down, not muzzled or bound or restrained, and within the confines of the cell, clutching at the blanket, the vampire finally breathes a sigh of relief. There are terrible things waiting for it in its dreams, and there will be terrible things waiting for it in the morning. But if it is always allowed to rest like this, in a dark, quiet nook with something soft to hold on to… then the vampire will count itself lucky.

No matter what the hunter does to it.

[END]

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#my writing #vampire whump series #whump #whump writing #whump community #vampire whumpee #nonuman whumpee #fear #conditioning #reluctant caretaking #ya know i am realizing as i reread this that callum has one hell of a mouth on him #boy has a potty mouth #i wonder if that is at all representitive of the author xDDD #monster whump

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ominousunflower · 4 years

Text

Crazy Composed: Chapter 1

Written for Day 1 (Eye Contact) of @luxyweek

Fic summary: Luka Couffaine is known for his saint-like composure, but five seconds with Xavier-Yves Roth is enough to make him completely lose his cool. And yet, after the two meet again at Le Grand Paris, they somehow find themselves spending more time together—which either means that something is going on between them, or Luka Couffaine has officially gone crazy. (According to his friends, it’s a bit of both.)

Rating: T Word count: 4545

___________________________________

“Thanks for staying to help,” Marinette murmurs to Luka, as she picks up a macaron with a pair of tongs and sets it on a businessman's plate. “I know you only came to the hotel to make a delivery.”

“It’s fine,” Luka says. Pouring another glass of punch, he smiles awkwardly at the businessman, then sets the glass alongside a dozen others. “You needed help, so I’m happy to be here.”

Normally, Luka would stay as far away from a catering event as possible. These sorts of things are always crowded and cramped, loud with chattering, and he tends to prefer quieter, emptier spaces. But the moment he’d walked into the hotel and seen Marinette off to the side wearing a half-smile-half-grimace, he’d resolved to stay and make her job easier.

So far, nothing too bad has happened. From what Marinette has told him, it’s some sort of business conference, which would explain why everyone is wearing suits and ties. Luka feels woefully underdressed in his hoodie and sneakers, but Marinette has assured him that no one will notice what he’s wearing underneath the apron.

The calm shatters when a familiar magenta-haired woman rushes up to the table, slipping between two people in line.

“Oh, Marinette,” Penny says. “Thank goodness. I thought I saw you down here earlier.”

“Penny!” Marinette says, eyes wide. “Um, what is it? Does Jagged need something?”

“There was a meeting earlier with some music folks. Somehow, Jagged and XY ended up in the same room, and…” Penny sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Well, Bob Roth is in another meeting, and neither one of them are listening to me. I assume since you’ve dealt with both of them before…?”

Marinette offers Penny a strained smile. “Say no more! I’ll see what I can do.” She glances at Luka. “Do you want to come? I know you’re a fan of Jagged, but…”

But you got akumatized the last time you spoke to Xavier-Yves Roth and his father. That’s probably what Marinette is too nice to say out loud.

Luka clenches his jaw. “I’ll come with you. Maybe the sight of my face will remind XY to watch himself.” Belatedly, he remembers that Penny is still standing there. He clears his throat. “I’m not going to cause any trouble, I promise.”

Penny just smiles. “I’m sure you two can handle them. Oh, and here—give me that apron, Marinette. I’ll take over while you deal with the problem upstairs.”

Marinette slips off the apron and passes it over to Penny. “What floor?”

“Fourth,” Penny says. “Room 412.”

“Got it.”

Marinette takes off at a sprint toward the elevators, leaving Luka to throw his apron on the table and follow her. They stick to the perimeter of the room, avoiding the crowds of people milling around the center.

“You don’t have to help, you know,” Marinette says, as they wait for the elevator. “I know you and XY aren’t on great terms.”

Luka folds his arms across his chest. He’s used to people thinking that he’s calm and collected, so he doesn’t appreciate the implication that he can’t handle a confrontation with someone who has two letters for a name.

Well, technically it’s just a stage name, but still. How does no one else see how stupid it is?

“I’m fine,” Luka assures her. “I know I didn’t handle things well last time. But I’ve learned from that mistake—I won’t let the Roths get under my skin.”

The elevator dings, and he and Marinette step inside.

Silence falls between them. Now, of all times, Luka is reminded of the fact that Marinette never really responded to his confession. He hasn’t exactly retracted it, and she hasn’t explicitly rejected it, so where do they stand, exactly?

While he’s sure that he still has a crush on her, anyone with half a brain can see that she and Adrien are a perfect match. (Of course, anyone with half a brain could also see that the two of them are probably Ladybug and Chat Noir, so maybe the people of Paris just aren’t that smart.) Luka has a feeling that any romance he starts with Marinette will ultimately lead to her realizing that Adrien is the one for her, and he’s not too interested in being a relationship catalyst.

But Luka is also someone who says what he means, so he’s not going to take back a confession that’s still technically true. Unfortunately, that has resulted in the current awkward silence, where Luka can feel the anxiety rolling off Marinette in waves. No doubt she’s worried that he’ll try to make a move.

Should he say something? No, because what if she’s not thinking that? Then he’ll just seem weird and anxious.

Luka sighs to himself. He wishes that people were easier to understand. Do they really think that his musical talent makes up for the fact that other human beings are a mystery to him? It’s a good cover, he supposes: being able to play a few bars based on a person’s aura, in a smooth way that makes them think he understands them. Why, yes, fellow human, I completely understand you! Listen to this G-major chord! I heard it in your heart.

It’s not a lie, though—Luka does understand emotions. He just doesn’t understand the thoughts that come with them.

Fortunately, Luka’s musings fill up the time it takes to get to Room 412, sparing him from any awkward exchanges with Marinette.

“Yeah, Fang!” an accented voice—unmistakably Jagged Stone’s—yells. “You want this cell phone? Been a while since you had some crunchy technology, huh?”

“Give it back!” another voice whines. Luka rolls his eyes. There’s no question that’s Xavier-Yves Roth.

Marinette glances at Luka, then knocks on the door.

“Why should I give it back?” Jagged snaps. “You were going to post a picture of me with the caption Ragged Stone. I’m not a has-been! I’m rock-‘n-roll!”

Luka sighs. “Is he always like this?”

“Pretty much,” Marinette says. Her foot taps rapidly against the carpeted floor, and she knocks again. “Uh, Jagged! It’s Marinette Dupain—”

The door flies open, and Luka’s sort-of-idol Jagged Stone is standing on the other side, signature guitar slung over his shoulder. “Marinette!” he says, his accent butchering the r in her name. He grabs her shoulder and shoots her a finger gun. “Great! I’m so glad you’re here. Deux-letters here is trying to harass me with his Instagram or whatever. Do me a favor and keep an eye on him? I’m all fired up now, so I need to get a drink or something.”

“Um.” Marinette leans around Jagged and peers inside. “You didn’t actually feed XY’s cell phone to Fang, did you?”

“Nah. I’ve got it right here. I only destroy my property, you know? I’m not a vandal.” Jagged pulls the phone from his pocket and drops it into Marinette’s hand. Then his eyes fall on Luka. “Oh, hey! You’re Marinette’s guitar friend. Luka, right? Sorry for arguing with your mom that one time. You’ve got talent. We should work together sometime! Any friend of Marinette’s is a friend of mine.”

He pats Luka on the shoulder, then squeezes between him and Marinette. Grabbing his guitar, he starts playing it as he walks toward the elevator, filling the hallway with the sound of rock ‘n roll.

Luka stares after him, slightly dazed. “Did he just say he wanted to work with me sometime?”

“He did!” Marinette says. “And he’ll keep his promise, too. Jagged is a good guy.” She purses her lips and puffs out a breath. “But we’ve got a bigger problem.”

“Right,” Luka says, sighing. “Babysitting XY?”

“And Fang,” Marinette says. “Jagged left him here, and I doubt he and XY get along.”

Grimacing, Luka looks through the doorway at Jagged’s pet crocodile. Fang is lounging on a sofa, yellow eyes fixed on XY, who’s draped across an armchair on the other side of the coffee table. XY looks every bit as infuriating as Luka remembers; his lazy pose makes Luka’s fists clench involuntarily.

“Stupid crocodile,” XY says, pouting. He grabs a pillow from behind his back and chucks it at Fang.

Fang growls and catches the pillow in his mouth, his large teeth instantly ripping it to shreds. Soon, all that’s left is a few shreds of fabric and stuffing that have fluttered to the ground.

Luka glares at XY. “Why would you throw something at a crocodile?”

XY shrugs. “It’s just a dumb lizard. Hey, are you room service? I want something to eat.”

Luka deeply inhales through his nose, calling on years of meditation to keep himself calm. “No, I…” He trails off as Fang crawls off the couch and starts plodding toward XY. “Uh.”

Marinette presses XY’s phone into Luka’s hand and rushes forward. “Fang!” she says, in the high-pitched way a person might talk to a puppy. “Hey, there! Who’s a good crocodile?”

Bizarrely, Fang stops and almost seems to smile at her. The song “Never Smile at a Crocodile” plays in Luka’s head, and even though he trusts Marinette to handle things, he can’t help but be slightly concerned.

Marinette pats her thighs and beckons Fang toward her, then starts backing toward a door off to the side. “Fang, do you want a bath? Some nice water? I bet that would feel nice. Why don’t we get you in the bath while we wait for Jagged?”

Apparently bath and Jagged are two of the words Fang knows, because he changes course and walks after Marinette to the bathroom.

“That was unbelievably stupid,” Luka tells XY.

“What do you mean?” XY says, waving a hand as he stares at the carpet. He doesn’t even have the decency to make eye contact with Luka when they’re talking. “Your girlfriend’s got it handled. I figured she would.”

“She’s not my—never mind. I’m not talking to you. It will just make me angry.”

Luka folds his arms across his chest and scans the room, waiting for Marinette to finish drawing Fang’s bath. He can hear the sound of running water echoing from the bathroom, though the noise isn’t as soothing as it could be when he knows it’s for a crocodile bath.

“How am I making you angry?” XY asks. “I’m just sitting here.”

It’s the WAY you’re sitting, Luka almost says, before he realizes how dumb that sounds. Instead, he just shrugs and stares at what little he can see of the bathroom through the open door. All he can make out is Marinette’s shoe and a giant crocodile tail, but it’s better than looking at XY’s face.

“Hey, can I have my phone?” XY asks.

“Why are you asking me?” Luka snaps.

“Because you’re holding it?”

Luka glances down at his hand, where sure enough, he is holding the phone Marinette gave him. The case is covered in some sort of obnoxious bling that makes Luka’s eyes burn. “Oh. Sorry.” Luka crosses over to XY’s chair and holds out the phone. “Here.”

XY grabs it from his hand without looking at him. “Thanks.”

Immediately, XY’s phone starts beeping, and a second later, an alarm tone goes off on Luka’s own cell phone. He digs it out of his pocket and sighs.

“What was that?” Marinette asks, running out of the bathroom with water dripping from her hands.

“Akuma alert,” Luka says flatly.

If his suspicions are correct, he knows exactly how this is about to go.

Marinette squeaks. “I, um—have to—macarons! Penny has no idea how to hold the macarons, and I…need to…go teach her.” She sprints across the room and pauses in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other. “I’m really sorry, Luka. I hate to leave you two—”

“Go ahead,” Luka says, trying not to sound too resigned. “I know the…uh, macarons are important.”

With a nod, Marinette runs into the hallway and pulls the door shut behind her.

Luka wanders across the room to glance out the ornate hotel window. From this spot on the fourth floor, he can see part of the Place des Vosgues, along with some familiar houses and stores.

As he looks outside, though, he can feel eyes on him. It’s hard to describe—similar to when he senses a person’s mood—but someone is definitely staring at him.

Praying that it is not a hungry crocodile, he slowly turns around.

XY’s blue eyes are fixed on him, staring out from beneath his ridiculous blond hair. His brow is creased ever so slightly, almost with an expression of trepidation. But, well, why would XY be afraid of Luka? Luka’s the one whose career could be ended in an instant by XY’s capricious father. Luka doesn’t have the power to do anything to XY.

Luka stares back, hoping that XY gets the message. Don’t mess with me or my friends.

XY nods slowly and goes back to fiddling with his phone.

Luka’s fingers itch for his guitar, but of course, he didn’t bring it with him, since he thought this would be a quick delivery stop. Mirroring XY, he pulls out his own phone and pulls up his contacts. Surely there’s someone he can text to pass the time…

Adrien Agreste’s name stares back at him from the top of the list. Luka considers it—Adrien is pretty fun to talk to, and would definitely sympathize with Luka’s current plight—but then he realizes that if Adrien is Chat Noir, he’s probably busy fighting the akuma right now.

XY clears his throat. “Uh, you play bass?”

Luka scrolls further through his contacts, because surely XY isn’t talking to him. But when he glances up, XY’s eyes are fixed on him again.

“Me?” Luka says. “I play guitar.”

“Right,” XY says. “That’s the one with six strings.”

Luka barely resists rolling his eyes. “Yeah.”

XY doesn’t respond, so Luka goes back to his phone. He pulls up the Ladyblog and skims it for updates: apparently the akuma is some sort of food-themed monster stomping throughout the city, and Ladybug has yet to summon her Lucky Charm. Based on past data, Alya has projected the battle to last twenty minutes, and advises civilians to stay inside to avoid being trampled.

Really, though, wouldn’t it be better outside? XY isn’t outside. Luka will gladly risk getting crushed by an angry hamburger man if it means escaping this awkwardness.

“And you, uh,” XY says. “You’re in that cat band?”

Luka sighs, keeping his eyes on his phone. “Kitty Section, yeah.”

He braces himself for some taunt about the name—which Luka will fiercely defend, because cats are excellent, thank you very much—but instead XY just says, “Oh, that rings a bell.”

“It should,” Luka says, gritting his teeth, “since we’re the band you and your father stole from.”

“Stole is kind of harsh,” XY says. “I prefer inspired by.”

Luka glares at him. “Is that a joke?”

XY shrugs.

“Have you ever had an original musical thought?” Luka asks, before he can stop himself.

To his frustration, XY gives another shrug. “Eh. Everything’s unoriginal, you know?”

Technically, that’s true, and Luka would agree if the phrase was coming from an actual artist. But it’s coming from XY. Scowling, Luka says, “There’s a difference between unoriginal and plagiarized, you know.”

In Luka’s head and in front of his bathroom mirror, he’s played out this scenario dozens of times, and in those imaginary conversations, he has said much more insulting things to XY. Of course, Luka would never actually say any of those cruel things…but XY is testing his patience.

When he thinks about it, though, XY hasn’t done anything wildly offensive today, except make very unwanted small talk. And that’s infuriating in its own way. Luka wishes he would do something bad, so that his irritation felt more justified.

“Yeah, sorry,” XY says. “I didn’t realize that was illegal.”

“It’s not the illegal part that bothers me,” Luka says. He wonders if he should even bother trying to explain what’s actually wrong. “It’s that my friends and I worked hard on that song, and Marinette worked hard on those costumes, and your father threatened us and undermined our work. But it makes sense that legality is all you two are concerned about. After all, you can’t make as much money if your father is in jail.”

He bites down on his tongue the moment the words are out. Does XY just bring out the worst in Luka? Or does Luka have less self-control than he thought?

“I mean, yeah, we wouldn’t want to get sued,” XY says. He’s now tossing a TV remote up and down, catching it with one hand. He won’t meet Luka’s eyes, which might be for the better; if he did, he’d see Luka’s brief moment of guilt over snapping at him. “Besides, coming up with stuff is hard.”

“So you understand why we were upset,” Luka says slowly.

What, exactly, did he do to deserve this conversation? Is it the fact that he’s flirted with both Marinette and Adrien? Is the universe somehow blaming him for keeping those two apart? Because, if so, that’s wildly unfair. Marinette and Adrien could be the last two people on earth, and they’d still find a way to be oblivious about their feelings for each other.

“You could have been flattered,” XY says. “We thought your stuff was good enough to steal—um, borrow. Or…yeah.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Luka asks in disbelief.

Maybe XY is wearing noise-cancelling earbuds that Luka can’t see. Maybe that’s how he manages to be so utterly tone-deaf.

“Yeah,” XY says. “Why? Am I talking too loud?”

Luka sighs. “You’re surrounded by music. You perform all the time. You must be able to come up with something on your own.”

Distantly, he thinks maybe he should give up on this conversation. He’s wasting his energy on XY. There are some people who just don’t get it, and this wouldn’t be the first time Luka has exhausted himself for a lost cause. (For instance: trying to convince his mother that maybe some laws are worth following for the public good, and that it might be a bad idea to install actual cannons on the Liberty.)

“Maybe,” XY says with another shrug. Luka thinks his shoulders must be pretty toned from all the shrugging he does. “But why bother, you know? The computers write lyrics and tunes that people like. Guaranteed success. Seems stupid to write my own stuff.”

If success was all that mattered when it came to music, maybe—and for XY and his father, that’s probably the case.

Luka’s curiosity gets the best of him, and he asks, “Have you ever tried to write your own songs?”

“Yeah, once.”

Luka frowns. Is this the set-up for a joke? Is there a punchline? XY doesn’t seem clever enough to set up a joke, given that Ragged Stone was the best insult he could come up with.

XY stops tossing the remote and holds it in his hand, fiddling with the buttons. “When I was eleven, I wrote a few songs and showed them to my dad.” Luka almost asks, Then why didn’t you keep doing that? but XY answers him in the next breath. “He said they were garbage. And I mean, he’d know, right? He’s, like, a music genius.”

Luka has doubts about how much of a music genius Bob Roth is, but he supposes it makes sense that eleven year-old XY would think that. Even now, XY probably conflates success and money with ingenuity.

But Luka’s mind is hung up on one word, blaring in his ears on repeat: GARBAGE.

Luka doesn’t want to have sympathy for XY. Sometimes, people are just rude and nasty, and they don’t deserve Luka’s pity. Unbidden, though, his brain is conjuring up a scene: a little blond kid with less-ridiculous hair, wide-eyed and hopeful, showing his father his songs—only to be told that they’re horrible.

Maybe that’s not how it went down. Maybe XY didn’t care about the rejection. But Luka has a feeling that, deep under XY’s blaisé exterior, he still remembers the pain of being told that his creations were worthless.

Damn it. Now Luka has sympathy for XY.

“That’s ridiculous,” Luka says. He tells himself that he’s just angry on behalf of a fellow musician—because technically, XY is a fellow musician. “I can only imagine if my mom told me that my songs were garbage when I was eleven. I mean, they probably weren’t that good, but—”

“Your songs?” XY interrupts. Luka’s sympathy ebbs, replaced by the irritation he feels every time XY opens his mouth. Luka shouldn’t have mentioned his own music; now XY is going to criticize it, and of course his opinion doesn’t mean anything, but Luka will still be annoyed. “Nah, I don’t believe that. Your music’s good.”

It’s certainly not the most glowing compliment Luka has ever received, and it’s delivered with a shrug—and yet, Luka finds his cheeks warming slightly at the comment. Maybe because he never expected XY to actually compliment someone besides himself.

“Have you…heard my music?” Luka asks.

“Just the one song you played on that broadcast. The one we tried to…” XY trails off, and Luka stares at the side of his head, silently demanding him to finish the sentence. “You know.” Frowning, XY tosses the TV remote onto the sofa where Fang was previously sitting. “At least my dad thought your music was good enough to use.”

Luka winces. “I’m sorry.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, he can’t believe he said them. Did he just tell XY that he feels sorry for him?

“Don’t be sorry that you’re good,” XY says. “He knows talent when he sees it, right?”

“But that’s—that’s stupid,” Luka says, taking a step toward the couch. XY doesn’t look up at him. “Your father should have encouraged your music, or helped you to make it better. He shouldn’t have just—” He growls. “I’m not a big fan of him, so of course I’m not surprised, but that’s still unfair.”

XY tilts his head toward Luka, though he still doesn’t quite make eye contact. “So you’re a fan of me, then?”

“No,” Luka says flatly.

XY nods, seeming unbothered. “Anyway, that’s cool. No one’s ever gotten mad for me. Well, my dad yells at people to make them do things for me, I guess. Does that count?”

Luka resists the urge to facepalm. The way XY says such spoiled things so casually—is this how Adrien feels, dealing with Chloé all the time? Then again, Adrien and Chloé are friends, and Luka and XY certainly aren’t.

Although, if Adrien can be friends with Chloé, does that mean Luka could befriend someone like…?

No. Luka refuses to consider it. He’s not getting involved with someone this rude and high-maintenance. People might think Luka has the patience of a saint, but in fact, he does not. And why would he take XY under his wing, after he and his father tried to screw over Kitty Section? XY’s personal issues aren’t Luka’s problem, and it’s certainly not his responsibility to nurture XY’s creative side.

Xavier-Yves Roth is young, Luka’s conscience says. Of course he makes mistakes. His brain isn’t fully developed yet.

Neither is mine, Luka thinks back. Which is probably why I’m even considering something this stupid.

“You know,” Luka says slowly. “If you…did write another song, and wanted to run it by someone…”

XY is silent for a moment, and then he finally looks up at Luka with a quizzical expression. “You? You’ve never sold albums or topped a chart. You wouldn’t have any useful feedback.”

Ah. Yes. This is why Luka wasn’t going to get involved with XY. Luka sympathized with XY for having his father tell him his offerings were worthless—and then XY turned around and said the same insensitive thing to Luka.

So what if Luka hasn’t topped the charts with an album full of banal, soulless songs? At least he makes music he’s passionate about.

It occurs to Luka that XY isn’t looking at him with scorn in his eyes. He just looks confused, which means he doesn’t even realize that what he just said was insulting.

Since Luka is feeling charitable—and XY’s words are meaningless—he decides to shrug off the comment. “I’m not interested in songs that sell,” Luka says. “I was just offering a second set of ears.”

“Oh.” XY blinks. “I don’t really see what’s in it for me…but, yeah, I guess it could be good practice for you. You know, learning how to work with someone in the industry.”

This is not worth it, Luka thinks. You will gain nothing from helping him.

Be a charitable person, his conscience insists. Do something good without expecting anything in return.

Luka snorts to himself. He’s already helped Ladybug and Chat Noir save Paris several times as Viperion. Isn’t that enough charity for the year?

“What’s so funny?” XY asks.

“Nothing,” Luka says. “I was thinking of something else. I’ll…keep your offer in mind.”

“Sure,” XY says, going back to his phone. “I’m not usually this generous, so, you know—it’s a special offer. I bet a lot of people would be jealous.”

Luka sighs. XY might not know much about music, but he’s certainly talented at infuriating people.

Before Luka manages to think of a response that doesn’t involve scathing sarcasm, there’s a loud knock on the door.

“Luka? XY? It’s Marinette!”

Luka rushes over to the door, checking his phone as he does. According to the Ladyblog, the akuma was defeated about a minute ago.

He opens the door and Marinette runs inside, panting. “Sorry, the, uh—the…”

“Macarons,” Luka supplies.

“Right! Yes,” Marinette says. “But then I got distracted, and, uh—there was an akuma, did you hear? Crazy! I mean, not crazy, because Paris has had a lot of akumas, but, you know…”

“I’m glad you’re back,” Luka says.

Marinette nods, then leans forward and whispers, “How was XY?”

Luka shrugs. “About what you’d expect.”

That feels a bit disingenuous, though. Because XY isn’t quite what Luka expected. Yes, his attitude is infuriating, and he oozes upper-class shallowness—but Luka’s starting to realize that there might be a reason that XY acts the way he does.

Not that Luka intends to stick around long enough to find out.

XY groans and stands. “I guess that lame rock star isn’t coming back for his dumb lizard. You two can watch him. I’m going downstairs to get food or something.”

He crosses the room and brushes past Luka and Marinette without a word. His eyes meet Luka’s as he leaves—and there it is, again, that look of almost wariness.

Then he shrugs and leaves, and Luka and Marinette are alone with a crocodile in a bathtub.

“Thanks for not feeding him to the crocodile,” Marinette says.

“Yeah, well.” Luka shrugs. “I didn’t want to give my favorite rock star’s pet indigestion.”

A second later, they hear a grunt and a crack, followed by a tidal-wave splash; and for the moment, at least, Luka’s thoughts of Xavier-Yves Roth are forgotten.

#luxy #luxyweek2k20 #ml fic #ml fanfiction #luka couffaine #xy roth #xavier-yves roth #miraculous ladybug #my fic

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