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rena-rain · 4 years

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Miraculous Holders’ Costumes - RANKED

#1 - Dragon Bug

Dragon Bug’s design is the freaking epitome of asymetrical balance. Everything about this suit is both smooth and sharp. The curving stripes and spots give the impression of fire licking up her body, same with the flame-shaped horns in her hair. You can hardly go wrong with black, red, and gold. The upward-pointing hair accessories reflect her downward-pointing pigtails, adding more subtle balance, and I love the details on her mask.

#2 - Rena Rouge

This design really suits Alya. The shape of the white front is both slimming and compliments her curves, and the black accents at her extremities are an excellent counterbalance to the white and orange. Also something about the coattails just completes Rena Rouge’s look! It’s the right shape too, because fox tails are on the bushier side, unlike cats and mice.

#3 - Chat Noir

Chat Noir’s costume can be described as “black cat meets knight in shining armor but modern.” Let’s go from the head down. The change in hairstyle balances out his cat ears. His blond hair, green eyes, and gold bell are beautiful contrasts to the black suit, which has a subtle texture to the fabric. There are visible seams over his shoulders, arms, and torso that add visual interest to the design and makes his suit resemble armor - even more so with his boots and gauntlets. Those details are fantastic because black is extremely slimming and they give some emphasis to his shape. Between the ears, eyes, bell, claws, and tail, you could never mistake his aesthetic as anything but catlike.

#4 - Hawk Moth

Do not tell me Hawk Moth’s costume isn’t sleek as hell. The monochrome works for him, the suit pairs well with his weapon being a staff, the overhead silver helmet-mask gives him a great villainous feel, and every pointy detail gives a sense of evil butterflies. I love that his miraculous is the focal point of his outfit, the light color contrast really draws the eye.

#5 - Snake Noir

They definitely combined the best elements of the Chat costume and Aspik costume for Snake Noir. In a word, you can describe his design as “lithe.” The cyan pairs well with the green, especially because there’s a Chat Noir-green diamond on his chest. The snake elements are a bit subtler, with his head smooth, the design tapering down his body, the fangs on his mask, the scale texture on his suit and the lines running down his arms. It’s cohesive, elegant, and stark.

#6 - Bunnix

I think Bunnix is meant to resemble a snowshoe hare. They didn’t give her a tail, but I think that’s what the little rounded ball accents are supposed to represent. The markings are bold and evenly distributed, making her look balanced and symmetrical. She actually has a vague vintage feel to her design: the white torso is reminiscent of a corset, which goes with the gloves, boots, and umbrella/parasol. Like Chat Noir, Alix’s hair makes a great contrast with the light blue and white. Also POCKETS.

#7 - Carapace

I love how much Carapce emulates a turtle. His hood and cowl are shaped like a turtle beak and also hide his face, serving both to protect his identity and give the impression he can physically retreat into his costume. His shield looks like a shell, the designs on his hood look like common markings on turtles’ heads, and he has a tortoiseshell pattern on his chest and shield. Like Chat Noir, the lines of his suit give his arms and legs visual interest.

#8 - Queen Bee

As much as I personally dislike the color yellow, Queen Bee’s costume has a straightforward elegance about it. Obviously the black and yellow stripes resemble a bumble bee but they’re also good for Chloe’s slender body type.. The black “neckline” and “gloves” are regal in flavor, suiting her moniker. You get a distinct bee impression from the sharpness of her stripes (a reminder of her stinging power), the black swirl around her hair, and the antennae-like hair ribbon.

#9 - Multimouse

Multimouse is another example of a well-balanced and symmetrical design. It uses the reliable faux gloves and boots design with colors that go well together. Her buns and jump rope look like mouse ears and a tail. I have a suspicion the animators came up with it to easily combine with other miraculous powers, mainly by changing the color of the pink stripes post-unification. Overall, this costume is very cute. I won’t go over every permutation of the multimice combos since very little changes other than color.

#10 - Lady Noire

Overall, Lady Noire’s suit is minimalist and elegant in a sharp, modern kind of way. Black is naturally slimming, and Marinette is already very slim, so the horizontal green accents help emphasize her curves. I don’t love the green lining of her ears, but I suppose that keeps the design consistent. I’m absolutely in love with Lady Noire’s braid (and I’d be remiss not to take the chance to point out this is the only time we see her hair properly black instead of blue). Her suit has a completely smooth texture, unlike both her Ladybug suit and Chat Noir’s, which I found odd and does’t do her petite frame any favors.

#11 - Mr. Bug

I’m glad they gave Mr. Bug black panels on his sides. The full-cover spots of Ladybug is fine for Marinette, but Adrien has a bigger frame and it would just look ostentatious on him. This design emphasizes his shoulders and slims him down a bit. He actually looks like a football player (American football, don’t @ me about this). He ranks just below Lady Noire because of the hair.

#12 - Aspik

OMG what a cutie pie. I can’t not say it - he looks like he’s wearing a corset in the left pic. Not a good or bad thing, I’m just saying. Look at this cutie pie! Aspik actually looks more snake-like than Viperion, imo: the design is sleeker and he’s got the diamonds over his head, that’s a nice touch. The snake scale pattern is a great detail. I had to step outside my own bias with this one because snakes really freak me out and so does Adrien without hair.

#13 - Jade Turtle

He’s less turtle-y than Carapace, but I was pretty happy with the Jade Turtle costume. The Asian style obviously suits him, and it makes sense because he was originally from China, while many of the others would be more used to Western clothing at a young age. Fu has a tortoise-shell pattern on his hat and shoulder guards and his shoes look like turtle feet. However, His chest plate deviates from the turtle theme

#14 - Viperion

My favorite parts of Viperion’s costume are his mask with the little snake fangs and the scale texture of the suit.As I mentioned above, it’s less snakey than Aspik’s. The lines suit his shape pretty well, but don’t taper down his body in the way a snake slims from chest to tail. I just feel like something’s missing from the outfit as a whole.

#15 - Ladybug

There’s just...nothing all that special about Ladybug’s costume. The red and black do suit Marinette’s pink coloring and dark hair, and contrast with her blue eyes. The bright color and pattern emphasize Marinette’s curves pretty well and make her look a little bigger than her slim stature. All that said, the suit is both busy and plain somehow.

16 - Pegasus

While I do love the hair, something about Pegasus’ costume is both too subtle and too over-the-top somehow at the same time. He has a lot of bells and whistles, though I suppose it’s supposed to look similar to horse tack. The winged shoes seem completely out of place. It’s not that I think he looks bad, but he doesn’t look particularly cool either.

#17 - Mayura

The one sin of Mayura’s outfit is the giant slit up the skirt, but kwamis is it a sin. The colors all go together and the headpiece matches the hem, and it has a distinct cold-weather theme going on with the boots, fur collar and cuffs, and full coverage design. That gets negated by the slit, which exposes nearly all of her legs, something that works far better for a summer evening dress.

#18 - King Monkey/Roi Singe

I’ve tried to figure out what it is about King Monkey’s costume that looks less than optimal, and I’m pretty sure it’s that it isn’t balanced well. He has large gloves, and elaborate crown and hairstyle, a thick collar, and a thick belt high up his waist. It makes him look kind of top-heavy. Similar to Pegasus, but to a greater extent, he’s washed out by the excess of neutral colors that the red doesn’t counteract very much.

#19 - Ryuko

I expected the dragon outfit to be more exciting. Other than the tail design (and the horns???), there’s just nothing dragon-esque about this. Come on, Chat Noir got ears, claws, and a tail; Viperion and Snake Noir got little scale motifs all over and fangs on their masks; Multimouse got bun ears and a tail; Carapace got a shell and a beak; Rena Rouge also got ears and a tail on top of a design reminiscent of a fox’s fur markings. Imagine the awesome tail and claws and fire motifs we were deprived of with the dragon. The best parts of Ryuko’s design is the embellished mask, her reptile eyes, and the red/black/gold color scheme, which are pretty cool.

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unlockthelore · 4 years

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Hurt

When they were kids, Cloud always tried to keep a stiff lip and Tifa always came to his rescue. Now, everything seems the same and different.

Beneath leaf-filled gutters dripping water into barrels set against a damp brick wall, a white cat blinked iridescent blue eyes at a glowing orb set precariously on a pile of debris. Its tail flicked and curled as it crept around shallow puddles shimmering flourescent green across a rippled surface. Gravel presses into its paws as it crept up the pieces of broken wood, sights trained on the orb’s surface, its light particles drawing the attention of cat’s dilated pupils.

Seconds from claiming its prize, the cat lunged only to be batted away by a hand. Tumbling backward down the pile of scrapped wood into a heap in the dirt, a small cloud of dust arising. It took a moment to shake off the initial shock. Slitted pupils and narrowed eyes focused on a blond haired child kneeling on the other side of the pile, snatching the glowing orb from the cat’s view. Hissing with a puffed out tail, the cat stalked forward attempting to lay eyes on the orb but the child blocked its view every time.

“Shoo, shoo…” He urged, waving his free hand mere inches from the cat’s nose. A few mere inches which would be his downfall. Rebuffed and vindictive, the cat lunged with a loud grating hiss, claws flashing and the boy recoiled with a startled cry. Bringing his hand close to him, fresh angry reddened streaks along the back of his hand gives the cat a sense of triumph as it scampered away, racing out of the alleyway before the boy could retaliate.

The blond grumbles softly, nursing his hand close to his chest, eyebrows knitting together in pain with a flicker of annoyance at the cat’s retreating form. “Ouch…”

Dull throbbing pain etched around the thin scratches. Blood beading around the wound staining his pale skin a light scarlet with a few dunks of his hand in a small basin beside the larger water barrels. Cradling the orb in his free hand, he carefully shifted it to eye-level and turned it over in his palm admiring the glow.

There was no question of why the cat would want it but if he’d lost it, that would be worse than a couple of scratches. His body ached and muscles protested his shuffling to the wood pile, dropping down against the dilapidated fence separating from the main road. Ambient voices and footsteps of the other towns goers both filling him with dread and concern. The longer it took him to figure out how to use this, the easier it would be for someone to stumble across him. Word traveled fast in Nibelheim, and would no doubt reach the ears of one Claudia Strife.

When glaring a hole into the orb didn’t work, Cloud tried any manner of “magic words” including “please” although he took a quick glance toward either side of the backalley to ensure no one was listening. The other kids would never let him live it down if they heard him pleading to a ball of energy — or was it magic? He couldn’t quite remember what his mother had told him before and recalling her words was difficult at a distant shout of his name.

Scuffling in the dirt, a sharp pain to his back and sides nearly tore free a pained groan. His hand clamping over his mouth to stifle it as the sound of his name grew nearer. Bouncing off the brick walls, interrupting the ambience and nearly drowned out by his hammering heartbeat. He knew that lilting voice anywhere — having heard it call out to him most of his life — but he didn’t want to face her.

Not yet, and definitely not like this.

“Cloud, are you back here?”

Tucking the orb close to his stomach, he clasped his injured hand over his mouth tightly, trying to control his breathing and make himself as small as possible. In the dim, it would be harder to pick out where he was exactly. And for once he was grateful that he was so small and unassuming. If he just stayed quiet then perhaps —

“Y’know, even if you try to keep quiet and hold your breath, the cat and the materia you took from my dad gives you away.”

Wrenching his eyes open, Cloud felt dread pool in his stomach. He knew when he was caught. Carefully lifting his head, his gaze traveled from the dirt scuffed at the tip of his boots to unblemished legs. Powder blue strapless sandals, that were always getting caught on cobblestone or causing a ruckus during a free run, on a pair of shifting feet matching the cream-colored dress and the drape of dark hair barely masking concerned and annoyed ruby eyes. While he was dirtied from head to toe, Tifa was pristine and — to his relief — unharmed.

Though, she was no less upset. Thick dark brows furrowed and rose pink lips pinched together, her balled fists jammed into her hips as she shook her head at him. “Really, Cloud. How were you gonna hide a glowing green ball in a dark alley?” Her gaze dropped somewhere near the hand that fell from his mouth, resting against his chest with nowhere else to go. Pain flickered in her eyes, quickly blinked away as determination interlaced with concern in her pinched expression. “And patch yourself up at the same time…?”

Cloud swallowed thickly. He didn’t want to explain to Tifa what happened but he was caught red-handed and she wouldn’t let him off easily. Fiddling with the orb, it felt cool against his heated skin. Shame burning deep in his chest as Tifa looked him over with a dawning look of realization. Her head dropped with a heavy sigh.

“You don’t know how to use it, do you?”

Wincing and averting his gaze, Cloud grumbled bitterly. “I was… gonna figure it out.”

Tifa’s disappointment is palpable but so is her concern. Cloud, chafing beneath both, had little energy to fight back against her snatching the materia from his hands.

“Before or after you got my hat back from the monsters?”

He half-expects her to turn around and go marching back home or chastise him for being reckless. When neither comes, he glances up at her as she shuffles in the dirt. Gravel and muck staining the hem of her dress when she crouches at his side, her eyes much closer and hold tight on his arm. It would’ve been painful if not for the cooling rush of energy fluttering from the materia into his skin, numbness ebbing at pain’s biting sting, racing through his body. If Cloud didn’t know any better and Tifa’s hold on him wasn’t so tight, he would’ve thought he was floating.

“Everyone else ran for the hills, I mean…” Tifa’s voice is soft and distant, a hint of bitterness souring the air between them as they watch the scratches begin to close. “So did I…” Quickly, she added. “Just to get my gloves so I could whack them myself.” Once the scratches healed, she eased his hand to his lap and loosened her grip enough that his wrist didn’t ache. Still, she refused to let go and Cloud knew better than to pull his arm away.

“And then I see my hat on a post and you were nowhere in sight.”

The slightest tremble to her hand made Cloud ease his own back and clasp it with hers. Tifa’s pinched expression breaking, a faint glimmer to her eyes as relief floods where anxiousness had been. She squeezed his hand and a hushed silence lulled between them, Nibelheim’s ambience filling the quiet as they were lost to their thoughts.

Quietly and with no small amount of hope, Cloud asked. “Did you get it back?”

That hat was one of Tifa’s favorites. Although she had so many, that didn’t matter. It was hers and he wasn’t going to allow some monster to trample over it. Tifa startled at the question then sighed raggedly, waving the materia inches from Cloud’s nose, his eyes almost going crossed as he tried to keep his gaze on it .

“That’s not the point, silly.” Tifa huffed, pulling the materia back, giving Cloud precious time to refocus his sight. His vision dotting a bit as he tried to level his gaze with hers. Almost wishing that he hadn’t when he sees the guilt and apprehension in her eyes. “You could’ve gotten really hurt, you know? Then what would I do?”

A loaded phrase and one Cloud isn’t quick to answer. Tifa’s care for him always leaves his stomach in knots and he hates seeing her face like that. Tired, concerned, anxious, guilt-ridden, those were emotions she didn’t deserve. With how helpful and strong Tifa was, she deserved to smile everyday. And he hated that he was the one who made her look like that.

Say something. Anything that’ll make her not worry so much.

Opening his mouth and closing it as he tried find the words, Cloud grumbled. “Take your hat, go home, and ask your dad how to use a healing materia… I guess?”

Weighted silence lingers between them before Tifa groans, shoving his shoulder lightly with materia in hand. “Oh, so now you’re a funny guy?” She asks dryly, but her smile is there and that’s all that matters to him. Slowly rising from the dirt, smatters of gravel cling to her skin and Cloud is hard-pressed not to remind her of them. Staring up at her steals his breath away, the light reflecting off the gutters haloing her in a gentle golden hue.

“One of these days, Cloud Strife, you’re going to get yourself into something you can’t get out of trying to play hero.”

Cloud closed his mouth, his lips dried from hanging open for so long. With Tifa’s help in pulling him to his feet, he held onto her hand a bit tighter as she tried to pull away. Her eyes squinting in confusion.

“… Then you’ll rescue me.”

“Huh?”

Cloud felt his face warming, his hold on her hand loosening for a second to allow her to pull away. When she didn’t, he tried to summon all the courage he could muster to keep speaking. Looking everywhere else but at her, trying to focus on the dripping water and the chattering beyond their little pocket of existence. Ignoring Tifa’s efforts to try and catch his eye, his head turning this way and that to avoid her gaze. “I promised I’d come rescue you once I’m a SOLDIER…” He cleared his throat when she ducked her head in his line of sight, meeting his eyes curiously. A startled noise and his head whipped to the side, too quick for him to play it off. “So, you have to rescue me too… if I mess up with playing hero.”

Tifa giggled after a short pause, squeezing his hand. “You don’t have to tell me that,” she said to him, pulling him to her side, not minding the slight stumble as he tried to regain his footing. Her eyes twinkling and the soft golden hue seared into his memory.

“It’s a promise, Cloud.”

・・・・・・ LOADING

Cloud opens his eyes to the darkness of his room in Stargazer Heights, the sounds of Nibelheim melting away along with Tifa’s voice and the warmth of her hand. Gazing down at his gloved hands, he carefully pulled one of the leather garments from his hand and set it in his lap. Brushing his fingers along the unblemished skin — feeling the ghost of the scratches and the ache in his bones from Tifa’s tight grip on his wrist. It was silly. He’d grown a lot since then but the sensations were still as real as they were that day.

An ache settled in his chest when he heard a door creaking open from down the hall along with the tell-tale footsteps down the rickety staircase. Pushing himself up to his feet, Cloud grabbed his fallen glove and tucked it over his hand. Hesitantly glancing between the Buster Sword propped up against the wall and the doorway where the footsteps were growing fainter to his ears. Quickly holstering the weapon, Cloud pulled open the door and darted to the railing, grasping it with both hands as he leant over.

“Tifa?”

Gone was the childish roundness to her face and the wide-eyed optimism and unbridled determination. He never noticed until Tifa was looking away from him, but shadows haunted behind that glimmer of hope. And the spark was steadily going out. Without missing a beat, she turned her head up to him and stopped at one of the lower steps, her hand on the railing and smile showing a sliver of teeth. Her face lighting up and temporarily blinding him from the shadows and all else around him.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“I… um…” Words gathered and died on his lips as he tried to piece together why it is that he wanted to see her now. A dull pricking pain, barely worth mentioning, drew his attention to the cloth bracers missing from his arm. Several thin scratches wrapping around his forearm, angry raised skin presenting both a hollow memory and an opportunity.

“Could you… patch me up?” Cloud asked, raising his arm hesitantly, the cool air stinging the fresh cuts. He thought that they would heal in his sleep but perhaps he hadn’t used his materia properly. Healing wasn’t exactly his thing after all.

Tifa leant up on her tip toes, likely attempting to see what he meant. A startled gasp escaping her as she raced up the stairs in record time.

“Cloud, wh—“

“You promised,” Cloud interjected, noting the exasperation and confusion in her eyes as she rifled about in the small pouch at her hip for a healing materia, glowing a familiar green between them. When her eyes met his, there was a brief flicker of recognition and the exasperation melted into a fond smile that stammered his heart’s beating.

“… Guess I did. Now, hold still, okay?”

Laying his hand in her own, he almost wished that he left his glove off so he could feel the warmth of her hand. But for now, this would be more than enough.

#ff7 #final fantasy 7 #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #cloti #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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queenmuzz · 4 years

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Deep Blue Sea: Chapter IX

Lost in Translation

Read the full story on Ao3 HERE

You stood there, sweating half to death, as the priest droned on and on about “Mawage and Twoo Wuv” (he had a very noticeable lisp). You were stuffed into a corset that was much too tight, much too revealing, and your arms were itching from the taffeta. It was awkward and tedious, and you'd rather be anywhere else but here.

Fredrick stood in front of you, oblivious to your discomfort, beaming brightly, and for this reason alone you hadn't just picked up your floofy skirt and walked out.

“If anywon has any Owbjections to this union of man an wife, speak now, ow fowevew hold youw peace” The priest spoke out, and a moment of silence passed over the crowd.

In the distance, the sound of what seemed like barking dogs got louder, and louder..but they sounded odd.

arf! Arf! ARF! ARF!

And then the heavy oak church doors burst open, revealing two massive sea lions, their entrance causing the congregation to scatter. Seagulls followed, squawking noisily. It was complete chaos.

In the centre of the storm, being pulled by the two sea lions, was a wagon with a large fish aquarium. It looked as if Cinderella's fairy godmother had drunk a little too much gin and tonic when granting her wish.

There, seated up to his waist in sloshing water, was Vergil, as handsome as ever, lounging back as if he was King of the Ocean, and looking very dapper with his blue bow-tie that matched his scales. On his wrists were matching cuffs, which on any other man, would look like a knock off Chippendale's dancer, but just added to his good looks.

The pinnipeds made their way to the steps leading up to the altar and stopped. Vergil, calmly and with great conviction spoke loud enough for the priest and the wedding party to hear.

“I object”

“Now listen here,” Fredrick's father, red with fury attempted to say something, but Vergil shot him a glare that could have cut diamonds. The man turned pale, and stepped back, hiding behind his wife. (she was wearing a garish fox stole over a white dress)

Vergil's glare vanished when he saw your face, “Please, my love.... will you choose me instead?”

You needed no other persuasion, as you launched yourself at the man, for a passionate kiss. Vaguely, you could hear your mother shriek “THE DRESS!” but you couldn't care less as you leapt into the tank with him, and with a sound that reminded you of a dolphin click, Vergil commanded the lumbering beasts to turn around and pull the wagon out of the church, leaving the congregation flummoxed at what just happened.

You, on the other hand, were the happiest woman alive......

*****

You awoke, your eyes wide in the early morning darkness. You could still feel the pressure/pain of the corset squeezing your ribs, despite the fact you were wearing dry, loose fluffy pj’s. The sickening sweet smell of lilacs still lingered in your nose. It had been so realistic...but it had all been a dream.

So, why did you feel so disappointed? That the wedding was still going ahead as planned? Or…

You looked over to the surface of the water, almost as smooth as glass, reflecting the dawn sky, purples, pinks and oranges giving the water the appearance of being made of flame. And at the edge of the inferno, his head resting in crossed arms on the platform, was Vergil, softly dozing. He must have been asleep for some time, as his hair was dry and swept back, aside from a few unruly strands that fell over his face in defiance. His face looked calm, almost peaceful, and you idly wondered if that was how he truly was in the wild. The more you admired this side of him, the more you…

Oh no…

You loved him.

The realization hit you like a tidal wave, threatening to pull you down into an endless vortex of emotions, both good and bad.

With Fredrick, you felt like you were separated emotionally by a pane of thick glass that could never be shattered. He’d listen to your problems, but everything was just a credit card swipe, or a written check away from being solved in his mind. He respected you as a person, but as a partner? Never.

Contrast this to Vergil, who while most of the time, was literally separated from you by a pane of glass, had gotten closer to you than anyone ever had. You’d laughed with him, discussed human and merfolk culture, tried foods, and built up a closer bond with him, closer than only a few other people including Fredrick . And now, you were growing feelings for him.

Which led to the turmoil. You knew there were several roadblocks to your feelings. First was the fact that you were human, and he was a merman. Despite the fairy tails, something like him turning into a human was an impossibility (and the fact there was no way in hell Vergil would ever want to).

And you were certain that he would never reciprocate your feelings. He might be cordial, even friendly with you, but the fact was: he was your prisoner. Anything he would feel would be tainted by the fact that he could never escape, despite him denying your requests to free him every morning. (You still didn’t know why he said no, but you remember Doctor Griffon had something called a ‘leash’, did it have anything to do with that?)

This wasn’t right. You shouldn’t feel this way. You were practically a married woman, only a month and a half to go. Fredrick would be home soon, and the final preparations were already in progress. You couldn’t hurt your fiance like this, you couldn’t hurt yourself, and you certainly couldn’t hurt Vergil.

So, you made up your mind, you needed to set him free. But if he kept saying no…. Well, you’d find a way to convince him, or find a way to get him home. That way, he’d be happy and free.

Even if it broke your heart….

A slight splash took you out of your morose thoughts to see the still sleepy, yet piercing grey eyes watching you curiously. His head was cocked to the side, and for a brief moment you panicked, terrified that mind reading was another merfolk ability. But you needn't have worried, as he gave you a small smile.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, and you faked a smile, masking everything you felt at the moment.

“Never better” It wasn’t a lie. Even after the emotional rollercoaster you had been on yesterday, and the most awkward dream (you were pretty sure merfolk couldn’t command sea life), you felt more refreshed than you had in months. You looked up at the skylight, still flooding the room with burnished bronze.

“I don’t usually wake up at the crack of dawn, it feels weird,” you stretched and yawned. You got up to make some breakfast, (bacon did sound delish right now), but his hand gripped your forearm, causing you to freeze. Oh god, merely his touch, which once had been easily brushed off, now had the ability to stop you dead in your tracks.

“I... “ he asked, attempting to put words into a sentence, “I haven’t seen the Dawnfather rise in a very long time, not since my capture,” your chest caved in at that realization. He’d spent most likely a year or more trapped indoors, and the fact that he hadn’t gone insane was a miracle in itself. A lightbulb went off in your head. Perhaps, even if he declined your offer of freedom, there might be a way.

“Hey Vergil,” you asked hesitatingly, unsure if he'd get offended, “I have an idea…. I, uh… how averse you are to be being carried?”

******

A few minutes later, you and him were sitting on your back patio, with him wrapped in a wet towel. Surprisingly, despite his size he wasn’t too heavy to lift, and other than him being a bit slippery, you’d managed to carry him as if he was a fishy bride out of the house, and into the fresh air. All nervousness you had about him being insulted at being carried around like a prized tuna vanished as he let the first rays of sun hit his face. His eyes closed, his breathing stopped to nearly nothing, and for a moment, you’d thought he’d fallen asleep, but then… he smiled. It was soft, gentle, and absolutely genuine.

“It has been far too long,” he murmured. To himself, or you, you had no idea. It just made you feel so happy to see him look so content. You let him sit in the late dawn light in silence for a few minutes, just soaking in the natural light and air, fearing that reminding him of your presence would shatter the moment of calm. While he’d smiled at you before, this was unlike anything he’d done before. Was he like this in real life, out of captivity? Or was it just the reaction to being outside his little prison for once?

“I… I can bring you out more often, now that the weather is much better,” you stammered, “Or if you’d like I could just let you go back home…” the sentence hung in the air, lingering for a moment, before being blown away.

“While I appreciate the offer, I must still decline,” his smile did not abate as he looked at you, but there was something different about it, some sort of sadness? What was he hiding?

A robin chirped and landed a few metres away from the patio, pecking at the dewy soil, before breaking out into a song, as it’s mate came down to join it. Vergil watched in fascination as the two of them hopped and sang to each other, in a cute ritual of courtship.

“Do all birds do this?” he queried, “we do not see them very often on the open ocean, they’re usually either feeding or en route to a new location. Their cries are not as musical, or perhaps they do not sing while on the wing.”

“Not all, some use their plumage to attract their mate, some do dances, some sing, and some do all three” you explained, watching as the birds flew off in tandem, before disappearing into the branches of a nearby spruce tree. You closed your eyes, enjoying the first rays of sun, and listened to the distant chirping and song. For once, there was no wedding preparation, no business deals, just you, nature….and your feelings for the man beside you. You attempted to shove those intrusive thoughts back into the deep recesses of your mind, including the latter. ESPECIALLY the latter.

A beautiful melodious sound seeped into your ears, one that confused you. No bird that you knew of had that crystal clear tenor song. Perhaps you were just imagining it? You slowly opened your eyes, worried that it would be carried away like a dream upon waking. In the clear sunlight you saw what it was coming from, and you were entranced. Not a bird, nor the wind, nor a tune coming from your cell phone.

It was Vergil. Singing.

Isil shem’ore

Isil lin’ore

Mira pharar, mira ofar, mira kanar,

D’rashana karif’ore

Isil dilshonin sa oplalim

Sa kintal o sa polim

Sa racarto shipal o sa whelik

Nekalin parand’ore fa pishim

Ah, mira sifa, mira sifa

Winik fa pishim lin’more.

His eyes remained closed as he finished the haunting melody, leaving everything else seeming muted and drab in comparison. You let the silence linger for a few moments, hoping against hope that perhaps he would go into another verse. And also because you had to take a minute to keep the tears from flowing. You didn’t want to give him the wrong opinion of why you were crying.

“That was…. beautiful,” you slowly spoke, just above a whisper, as you quickly wiped your eyes. Vergil smiled at you, just like he had when he had taken his first breath of fresh air, and you felt yourself heat up, and you hoped it was because of the intensifying sunbeams. “That was Old Mer, right? Do you mind giving me a rough translation of it?”

He cocked his head and averted his eyes, and for a brief moment you thought you had overstepped your bounds. “It’s… an ode to the rising of the Dawnfather, a celebratory song.” “You know,” you joked, “we have legends of the alluring sound of merfolk, whose entrancing songs would lure ships to their doom. I guess there’s a kernel of truth in that.”

“Well, we never wished to draw attention to ourselves” he explained, “but when you humans are spending multiple cycles alone on your ships, I suppose any source of singing could be considered captivating”

You laughed of the mental image of some poor godforsaken sailors being lured in by a bunch of mermen singing the equivalent of a raunchy ballad. “Well, it’s absolutely gorgeous, would you mind singing it again? I mean,” catching yourself, “if it isn’t against your customs or anything.”

He chuckled, and closed his eyes, and with that, began singing again, just as beautiful as before. The only thing that worried you was that he was turning a bit red. You hoped that his stay indoors for such a long time wouldn’t cause him to sunburn.

******

So, for the next few weeks, you’d added a new habit to your morning routine. You’d wake up earlier every morning, wrap him up in a wet towel and carry him to the back patio to soak up the sunshine. Occasionally, you’d cook up some breakfast to bring out to him, sometimes you’d just sit out and enjoy the mid spring air. And every so often, he’d start singing. Sometimes that song, sometimes others, but they were all beautiful. You really liked those times. You tried to bottle those feelings you had for him, but you couldn’t help it, his smile and singing would reel you back into admiring him.

But not today. You awoke to a deafening bang, and as you sluggishly panicked for a few moments, thinking an accident happened, before a flash of light from outside made you realize there was no issue, it was merely a thunderstorm.

You padded out, cheap instant coffee in a mug (despite your father’s insistence that you could afford better, your fellow college students had introduced you to your addiction) to the platform to see Vergil already primed and ready to go outside. There was electricity in the air, and not from the storm.

“Sorry, looks like the weather’s not great for our usual get together.” you apologized, but his eyes seemed different, eager.

“I don’t mind storms, in fact, I enjoy them very much” he replied, “If you are not against the idea, I would like to experience it first hand.”

So, you sat there, soaked to the skin within a few minutes as the rain poured down. You didn’t mind, especially when you saw the look on his face as the rain and wind hit him. With the sun, he had seemed the very picture of contentment. But with the storm, he looked practically ecstatic. There would be no singing today, especially with the howling of the wind and the roaring of the thunder drowning out everything, but you were willing to put your selfish desires away to watch him truly enjoy himself.

“It’s nice to have someone to enjoy the storm with,” you spoke, “my mother was always terrified of the things, father was always too busy, and my friends thought I was crazy to go outside during times like this.”

“I have always enjoyed storms, the sharp divide between the calm of the ocean, and the chaos when one breaks through the surface” he responded, a nostalgic smile on his face, “my brother and I would enjoy these times as finlings, seeing who could stay above the surface the longest before being swamped by waves.”

“Your brother?” you stiffened at the revelation. In all the months you’d known Vergil, he’d never divulged anything about his family. You’d never asked, letting him have as much privacy as you could give him, but you’d always wondered. If there were family members, perhaps you could contact them, to find a way to free him safely.

“Yes,” his smile faded, “had you told me that I would miss his annoying presence, I would have said you had been playing with the pufferfish for far too long. But now…”

“You had a falling out?” you probed gently.

“I suppose that would be putting it lightly,” he grimly explained, “you would have liked him, he was much more friendly with humanity than I ever was, even after….”

“Vergil, you don’t have to tell me anything, if you don’t feel comfortable,” you slowly told him, even though you were dying to know about this mysterious family member.

“No,” he replied firmly, his eyes going as hard as the driving rain, “you deserve to know this, after all this time,” and despite being soaked to the bone, and beginning to feel a chill, you focused intently on him.

“I resided with my brother, and my mother and father, most of the time to the north, where there were once innumerable fish. A few seasons ago,” he paused, refusing to face you, “a ship with one of those infernal nets that scoured the bottom of the ocean passed through, and despite my parents best efforts to evade it, they both got caught up in it.” he took another deep breath, and you held yours. “By the time my brother and I were able to cut through the ropes, it was too late, both were suffocated by the mass of fish that crushed them.” His hand went out and began to draw on the sole dry part of the wood, sheltered by the awning. “The ship had an unusual design on its hull, instead of the figure of the merfolk in better times, it was three marks…” he drew them out with his wet finger, three circles, one for each corner of a triangle, a jagged line connecting them. Your heart sank. The official logo of Mundus Inc. “I was furious, I would have sworn to wipe out every damn ship off the surface of the ocean at that very moment. But,” he pulled up his fins, hugging them close, “I knew that was impossible, so I decided to destroy every ship that carried that cursed mark. My brother, Dante, soft hearted as he always was, told me that going on a rampage ‘wouldn’t bring mom and dad back’ as he said, but my anger clouded my judgement, so when he attempted to stop me, we fought. It was a vicious battle, but in the end, I was victorious.”

“You didn’t...” you asked, horrified.

“No, I did not kill him, I’d already lost my parents, I was not going to destroy my last blood relation. We merely went our separate ways. Although,” he sighed as the wind and rain began to wind down, “perhaps it would have been better had I lost to him, captivity can be rather humiliating,” he turned to you, his smile returning, “at least it hasn’t been as bad as I had feared. I met you, after all.”

You flushed at his compliment, and you hoped he didn’t notice. His disdain for your father, and humanity in general now made perfect sense. Guilt by association flooded you. The fact he even tolerated you was more than you deserved for what the company you were about to take over had done. And now to add insult to injury, he was being kept prisoner by the killer of his parents. How he had restrained himself from strangling you these past few months was nothing short of amazing. The leash….. Perhaps that was the key to it all.

You shivered, partially out of the thought of how he must have hated you, and partially at how chilly you felt, now that the storm was over.

“Are you cold, Sifa? ” his voice intruded into your despondent thoughts. You looked up, to see him watching you in what seemed to be concern.

“A little…” you admitted, before the thought of what he said, “Sifa? What does that mean?”

Vergil was taken aback, as if he didn’t realize he spoke the word, before cautiously answering, “It’s an old mer term… it means, ‘human’. Not in a derogatory term though,” he clarified as you picked him up to bring him back into the warmth of your home, “more of a nickname. You do not mind…?”

“I like it! It sounds so beautiful!” you exclaimed. Vergil’s reaction seemed to be one of relief, which was odd.

You came back, dressed in dry clothes, and with some time to think. Perhaps, there was a way to get Vergil to the freedom that he so desperately craved.

Toweling your hair as Vergil scarfed down a plateful of sardines, you ventured, “Vergil, do you think your brother would want to know how you’re doing?”

He froze, brows furrowed as he thought hard about it. “He is fairly easy going, slow to anger, and quick to forgive,” he chuckled mirthlessly “a bit too quickly in my opinion.”

He seemed amenable to the idea of reconciling with his brother, so maybe… “If there was a way to contact him, to let him know you’re still okay, how would I be able to give him the message?”

There was an agonizing period of silence, before Vergil slowly reached for the amulet that was around his neck. To your astonishment, he took it off and handed it to you, like it was the most precious thing to him.

“This was a gift from our parents, I was given one, and Dante the other. It was a way for us, being twins to ‘sense’ each other’s presence. Taking this to the ocean should alert him to me, and if he is amenable to a reconciliation, he will come.” He looked at you, his gaze hard and fixed. “This information is not to be revealed to anyone aside from him.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Vergil, I’m honoured that you trust me enough with this” and he softened, smiling at you, “I swear to you,” you firmly proclaimed “I’ll keep this secret safe.”

*****

It was the third day you had taken out your personal sailboat out into the bay. The fates could not have aligned better. The weather was perfect for sailing, the last of the wedding preparations had been completed, and your father was still out on business, leaving you with days of free time. And due to it being mid week, any nosy pleasurecraft were nowhere to be seen.

Well, it would have been perfect, if the guest of honour had shown up. Three days you’d been sailing, looking like Captain Ahab searching for your Moby Dick, except he hadn’t appeared. You’d spend all morning, docking around noon for a quick lunch and a phone call to Fredrick (He was planning to come home with your father, but business would keep him in Japan until the very last moment, much to your dismay), before heading back out, sailing far enough from the shore to give you some privacy, but close enough to the shallows so that it was safe for your small vessel.

Each day ended the same, with you coming home, looking at Vergil despondantly, shaking your head and handing back the amulet for him to keep for the night. Your failure seemed to affect him as well, and you could have sworn his tail was losing its newly regained lustre. But he would always seem to be hopeful when he handed it back to you the next morning.

So, this afternoon was no different as you fingered the precious gem around your neck. It felt wrong to wear it like that, but he had assured you that he didn’t mind, and besides, it would be less likely to get lost.

The only difference was that instead of eating a sandwich, or a smoothie, you had treated yourself, and bought yourself a pizza. So you sailed around the cove, humming the tune that Vergil had sung for you, attempting to take your mind off the fact that you’d seen neither fin nor gill of his brother. Part of you worried that perhaps this Dante wasn’t as forgiving as Vergil had said he was, or worse, he’d been captured as well....

PHUNK!

You lurched forward, nearly face first into the wheel, as the boat lurched to a stop. You picked yourself up, attempting to figure out what went wrong. You hadn’t hit anything, as the sudden stop didn’t feel like something blocking the boat, more like something pulling it. You quickly checked your anchor, assuming that perhaps in your worry, you were unaware that you had set the anchor by accident. But nope, the metal contraption still lay on the stern deck, the chain only mildly disturbed from the sudden stop.

Perhaps kelp? You closed the box of pizza, before grabbing your jackknife to cut whatever obstruction was holding your boat back. Heading to the stern, you crouched down to see what the hell was going on. You’d passed this area before, and never had any issues, and yup, even in this shallow water, you couldn’t see much vegetation, let alone anything that could snag your boat. Taking a deep breath, you plunged your head into the water to get a better look.

Of all the things you were expecting, a pair of eyes, white hair, and brilliant red scales wasn’t what that. You stared shocked for a few seconds, a few dumbfounded bubbles blurping out of your mouth, before the man’s (who aside from fin colour, looked like a carbon copy of Vergil) hands reached out, and with a vise like grip on your shoulders, yanked you clear off the deck.

You panicked at the sudden submergment and began flailing wildly, but his hands never loosened.

All you could hear, over the stream of terrified bubbles that contained your screams, was a voice echoing through your skull.

Where the Hell is my brother?

#Devil May Cry #Deep Blue Sea #Vergil x Reader #Mergil #Vergill #Sorry for the delay

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moonlightstars16 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1 ~ Not A Diamond

***WARNING: This Chapter contains themes that might be a trigger. Please read at your own caution. Also I love Spinel, and this I do not ship Spinel and Steven I DO NOT HATE the ship. Or OTHERS that do. I also LOVE Spinel’s character, so for this AU I decided to change it up because I think she’s perfect for it. Thank you and enjoy the rest of this story.***

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

"Here my Diamond" Pearl said placing a freshly clean cloak on the bed. "as requested."

"Pearl, you can call me Steven. No Diamond is around to hear you." a familiar voice, now older and deeper, spoke out. The half human/gem hybrid stood up from his chair and turned from the fireplace towards his second in command Pearl, his Pearl since childhood. Rolled his eyes at the diamond salute she was making. "Besides you know how much I dislike that title anyway." Steven groaned while walking towards the balcony of his own palace. Given to him by the Diamonds although to him it was always going to feel like a prison.

"Of course my Di- Steven" Pearl spoke correcting herself. Though they knew each other for twenty years, Pearl was hesitant to address him now as anything other than a Diamond. She knew what happened to Steven since they all were taken from Earth. It changed him in more ways than one. Pearl still had no idea how to feel about it overall.

"How is everything coming along with the human zoo?" Steven asked casually adjusting his black gloves while he gazed down at what appeared to be a garden. It was his mother's garden brought down from space to HomeWorld. Despising it's very existence since he arrived here. So he had commanded for a human zoo to be made and overtake the garden. All except one part Steven decided to keep for sentimental reasons. A sort of reminder of all the pain and suffering she inflicted upon him. Leaving him to make up for her mistakes.

"All is going according to your plan. They have better resources and.... your father has finally accepted his position." Pearl stated though hesitantly so.

Steven chuckled lightly and smirked. "So the old man finally caved? Well it's about time." He sighed and turned around towards his bed. Lifting his cloak around his shoulders before clasping it together. His black suit matched well to the permanently blood stained cloak. He didn't mind at all, in fact preferring this over just plain black. Glancing at the cracked mirror, he reached up and adjusted the ties on his silver mask. Which also had a bloody tear stain under the right eye. It only covered up exactly half his face and served as a reminder of why he had it in the first place.

"The banquet will begin soon, shall we not be going now?" Pearl asked though the urgency wasn't there. Steven loved to be fashionably late and it surprised her why she continued to even ask such a question. Curiosity was the only thing that seemed to satisfy it.

"I won't be rushed by the likes of them." He spoke with a firm tone and a deadly look in his black and pink diamond eyes.

"Of course, but-"

"But what Pearl?!" Steven interrupted with more anger in his tone. His complexion turning a bright pinkish red. She had seen this all before only the red part must be thanks to his human half. Shaking her head she tried to remain calm.

"Nothing Steven, forget I said anything." He took in a deep breathe and soon the glow diminished from him. Stepping closer he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"My apologies Pearl" Steven sighed before giving a half smile. "I can't imagine going through this without you. You've helped keep me sane all this time." The smile (though half heatedly was better than nothing) that kept the memory of his innocence warmed her heart. They hugged for a brief moment, then began to walk towards the room which held the warp pad. However before they could a pink lion with sharp (and now bloody) fangs entered the room. Steven smirked kneeling down as Pearl's eyes widened slightly.

"Oh Steven, not again. Why must it come down to this?" Pearl asked as he laughed with such ecstasy and darkness in his voice.

"How will they learn to obey if they don't listen?"

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

The Diamonds banquet was held once every year since Steven was in there lives. To celebrate their "victory" over the war. Though they still refer to him as Pink. Not because he was, oh no that they understood. But for the sheer pleasure it made them feel to see him in misery. It was there way of punishing him for taking away their precious Pink Diamond. Even the banquet name mocked him. It was more or less a formal meeting to discuss progress on the colonies and such other Diamond accomplishments. No matter how boring it was, Steven had to listen. Last time he tried skipping... He reached up and touched his mask for a moment before regaining composure from the memory.

Once Steven and Pearl arrived, they were ushered towards the throne room immediately. Though it was odd to see only White's Pearl and not her on the throne. Or so it looked to be so. Steven and Pearl know full well she was only tormenting them from her mind control tricks. However it wasn't just them they did it too. For White this was just apart of a normal routine.

"Pink! Oh we are so thrilled to have you join us this evening!" Blue exclaimed excitedly while maintaining her demeanor.

"Nice to see we can pull you away from your work, Pink." Yellow said adding emphasis to the word Pink, knowing how much he hated it.

"Blue, Yellow" he paused while looking up at the white pearl "How could I ever miss such an important and quite droll of an event?" His voice sarcastic and projecting while sitting on the throne that once belonged to his...mother. "I heard this year you've made quite amazing progress on the third era colonies correct?" Not that he cared, he just wanted to get it over with.

"Amazing is an understatement" Yellow mumbled before being interrupted by a more than thrilled Blue.

"Oh Pink we have exciting news! Earth will be useful after all!" Everything in the room suddenly came to a standstill. Even time itself seemed to slow down as Steven processed what Blue had just spoke. From those words he knew something was going to happen and it involved him in some way.

"What?" was the only thing he could say. His heart started to pound hard beneath his chest.

"Yes! You were right Pink! Earth's resources are very unique, so much so it's the perfect place to build our geo-weapon! Now 'The Cluster' is still a working title but the point is you were right Pink! Earth is useful to us! What a way to celebrate the new era!" Blue continued to ramble on about the specifics of how the cluster worked and what the geo-weapon could be used for. Steven remained silent.

He didn't care for the planet. In fact he just wanted it gone. However a small part of him still wanted the planet to exist. However that wasn't going to happen. 'Just another event to lock away and forget' he thought. Blue continued to ramble until Yellow interrupted.

"Anyways, besides congratulating you on your victory Pink, we also want you to oversee the whole project."

"And why would I want to do that?" Steven asked ready to brush off everything.

"Because you are a Diamond whether you like it or not Steven." That voice... his name spoken.... it made him paralyzed in place, and he hated it. "Though you're not her, you caused her to die and to make up for it you must take her place." Silence fell eerily for a moment before she continued "Disobedience means punishment."

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

After returning from the banquet, Steven stormed up to his room. Ripping off his cloak, jacket and vest before sitting down in his chair. Taking a few sips of alcohol and breathing to calm him down from the events. After an hour or so he was a bit more relaxed though his head slightly throbbing. He was beyond out of it. So much so he didn't realize a certain heart upside down shaped gem had entered the room. Rubbing his tense shoulders.

"Spinel, not now" He growled though it was kinda pathetic, thanks to the alcohol.

"Shh Steven, please, let me help you." Spinel spoke before placing a kiss on his head. He was familiar with the concept of human intercourse and apparently so was she. It wasn't the first time she seduced him(beginning four years ago), however he rejected her every single time.

"You're better than this Spinel" again he hated the way alcohol affected him.

"And you're better than this" she spoke taking the drink away from him. "Look I found a love for this and since you're my best friend, I only want this with you." Her hands touched his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly and gently caressing his bare chest. Although careful to avoid his gem. The whole idea of what she was doing, made him roll his eyes.

"I'm not her Spinel. She was your best friend, not me." His voice was starting to regain control and was now filled with bitterness. "Besides it's not best friends who do this. Not unless they say they love each other and consently agree to it. Spinel You're hurting, I understand, bit this isn't-"

"I'm not!" She yelled before grasping both sides of his face and almost knocking off his mask. "Steven I've studied this and the more I learn the more I want this. And I only want this with you! Please!" Steven gripped her hands in his taking them off his face. He humored this long enough.

"No Spinel, end of discussion."

"But-"

"I said no!!!" Glowing pinkish red again he had stood up so forcefully that Spinel dropped and rolled slightly onto the floor. Tears spilling down her cheeks as she looked up at him. Her spiked pony tails dragging down. The look she gave made him regain control, the glow once again diminished and he knelt down offering his hand. She instantly swatted away his help and ran out of the room, still crying. Steven sighed and sat down on the chair once more, rubbing his forehead. She always did this sort of thing and he always knew why.

Spinel was just another victim, just like he was. Only she was isolated alone for three years on a barren planet and another three years trapped in the human zoo. But with only with those who began to loose their minds since they had began to collect there. By the time she was able to come back, Spinel was an entirely different person. Marks across her gem was only a symbol of what happened to her.

Spinel wasn't the only one who suffered.

All of this made him think of is own torture he endured. Flashes of White Diamond's long black fingernails picking apart his gem, him being reunited with that part of himself and her discovery of blood. Which only occurred to her when the human zoo even began. So she basked in the information.

"Where is Pink?! What have you done with her?! I demand you tell me!!!" Her voice almost cracked the walls of her throne room. The gem part of Steven looked at her and shouted so loud it did crack the walls.

"SHE....IS....GONE!!!!!!!!" Once he was finished, gem Steven walked towards the almost lifeless human Steven. Looking at one another they smiled and gripped hands before a bright light consumed everything. When it dimmed, revealing his true self both sides coming together as one.

The victory only lasted a moment before White in her rage knocked him back against the wall and watched as he slowly sank down. Steven found himself laying against the floor, when he came back from his unconscious state. Slowly bringing himself on his knees, a single drop of blood dripped from his head. A slight concussion must've occurred when he fell.

"Oh So you can bleed." She laughed wickedly. Holding him up at his feet with his arms pinned. The sharp tip of her fingernail just above his forehead.

"This will be fun"

Steven screamed out in pain as White continued to laugh maliciously. Dragging her finger along the right side of his face. Leaving a scar that also went over his eye. Blood dripped everywhere.

Steven brought a shaking hand up to his mask and gritted his teeth, breathing in sharply and eyes shut tight. Until he felt a familiar hand touch his shoulder.

"Steven, are you alright?" Pearl asked bringing him out of his memory into the present. Rubbing the side that wasn't covered he shook his head. Not wanting to talk about it right in this moment, it was just a painful memory to once again bury deep in his mind.

"What is it, Pearl?"

"Shall I make arrangements for your travels Steven?" she asked moving on to the next topic as quickly as possible for him. Seeing how in distressed he was.

"Yes, I just want this over with as soon as possible." He spoke before getting up and going to his bed. The next few days were going to be rough.

#shatteredbloodsufau #steven and connie #au #steven universe #evil steven #steven universe future #fanfiction #garnet #pearl #amethyst #greg universe #spinel #the diamonds #pink diamond #pink steven #connie mahaswaren

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blankdblank · 4 years

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The Cabin

Day 8!! - Here’s a slightly dramatic Modern AU Thranduil ramble :D

*You are sitting around a campfire. There are stars shining in the sky. Someone asks “If you had the power to change one person’s life, how would you do it?”*

…

“I am gonna burst,” You squeaked in the middle of the third landing between endless flight of steps to your eighth floor apartment making you sigh and say, “Hot pants it is.” Rushing to the heavy door you crashed through it and bit your lip gripping your bag that had split hours earlier in your bow legged trot to the seventh door on the left. A frantic knock on the yellow door was followed by equally as frantic shuffling and a loud thud mingled with a string of curses until the door flung open and the wide eyed towering blonde behind the door stared at you. “Hot pants man,”

Heavily he sighed muttering, “That was a costume, I was mint green.”

You nodded and bounced in place making him look you over curiously, “Green hot pants man, ya, I usually don’t do this, but the elevator’s out and I’m not going to make it another five flights of stairs, can I use your bathroom?”

Smirking at you awkwardly he stepped back pointing at the open door opposite the open kitchen, “Straight through there.”

You nodded and rushed over to it dropping your bag on the blanket and clothes covered couch earning a loud groan form under the now shifting blob making you trot around the couch and straight to the bathroom, “So sorry, gotta go.” The door closed and the dark haired Elf with a knotted half afro hanging into his face glared at his roommate standing by the door angered at being woken.

Thranduil moved closer to him harshly whispering as you flicked on the water to mask your fumbling disrobing mess of a self and bursting dam of a bladder you felt coming, “It’s squirtle girl, and you will not embarrass me like last time!”

“I did not embarrass-,”

His mouth was covered and a finger was pointed at him while he eyed Thranduil’s dark thick brows lifting over his momentary irritated pout, “Elrond, I swear! Last time you told her I’d been looking for a squirter my whole life! She went months without talking to me! Months! Now you will be polite and say nothing!”

Thranduil’s hand lowered and his brows twitched up at the emphasizing point making Elrond smirk and lay back down covering himself again at the flush. A few moments later you were out again when the tap turned off and flashed Thranduil a weak grin when he shot up fidgeting with the ties on the sweats around his waist subconsciously flexing in your stolen glance at his shirtless self. The grin on his face twisted realizing his hair was in a bun on top of his head and he had a face mask on to help ease his dry skin after being in heavy make up for his play role for the past few weeks. “Thank you, again,” Rounding the couch you lifted your bag and patted the ankle of the Elf under the covers, “So sorry.”

Elrond raised his arm from under the covers to give a silent wave stirring a curious grin onto your face as his arm fell down lifelessly again. Again looking up he looked you over watching your mint green highlighted white curl filled loose bun shifting in the tilt of your head to lock your silvery green eyes on his icy blue pair after his glance over your pink leotard under a grey tilted baggy t shirt long enough to be like a dress with black leg warmers in a tilt from your clear rush from your usual lunch after rehearsals for your show. “Your show’s on Thursday, right?”

You nodded, “Ya, double show,” he chuckled awkwardly as you looked over his face again, “Well I can’t wait, we got tickets,” Your brows inched up and he turned his head to the ringing phone Elrond raised his arm to pat around for the receiver he pulled under the covers.

“Hello?”

Wetting your lips you replied, “Ya, I’ve seen your show too. It’s really good. Your part too.”

“I dance with a guy in an Elk costume.” He playfully retorted making Elrond chuckle behind his hand remembering the act popping up seven times in the two hour long play.

You nodded sending your bun bobbing making him smirk at a strip of curls breaking loose across your face you blew away only for it to swing back into your face, “I doubt anybody could get that shimmy jete combo down like you,” making him mouth scrunch up and his head tilt back in a sharp inhale to hide his embarrassment.

Elrond mumbled, “No, we’re not going to the pool party.”

At that you gasped saying, “Pool party, shit!” Turning you grabbed your bag saying, “Sorry, I promised I’d go and bring one of those stupid inflatable flamingos, which I have to buy…”

Thranduil said, “Turin’s shop has some! Elrond call him,” he leapt over the couch parting your lips in his rush to his bedroom, “Meet you in the lobby in twenty!”

Elrond peeked out from under the covers and you glanced at him with brows raised and waved then pointed to the door, “Guess, I’ll be, going…” He nodded, “Again, sorry,”

He shook his head and hung up the phone to dial Turin’s number, “Not a problem.”

…

That was how it began, a masterful friendship, keyword, friendship. A lap top seat offered by your cousin and an advance from a highly flirtatious brunette. The mistake was cleared up within a month but by then there was a third date planned, so friends you remained with his hope that things might change before long. Though somehow it always seemed that you were trains just barely missing one another in the station of life. All through art school and into the beginnings of your careers your lives blended together and a solid support system was formed no matter what.

It was clear for all to see how evident the love was there and after nights out together in your hectic schedules with his acting jobs, your dancing and Elrond’s makeup and special effects careers led you both together and apart to mingle with the rest of your group. Relationships came and went, for the men at least. Elrond, Glorfindel and Elros all settled into their own relationships while Thranduil slammed hard into absolute enamor-ment with his girlfriend quickly leading them to an engagement.

From one wedding to another you claimed your seat and ignored the stares of those around you when your plus one was never claimed. You weren’t alone, you just didn’t want to bring another one of your dates the guys always hounded to their special days, group dinners once a month was enough. They weren’t bad guys, they were wonderful, from doctors to a trio of firemen you had happened across in your very safety conscious part of town you lived in across from their usual lunch spots, they just never seemed to be ready to commit, something you never pushed on because if you were honest you weren’t either. At least not with them.

Panic flooded Thranduil and all the way through the planning for the big day it only got worse and it wasn’t until he was ready to throw his tie he couldn’t secure that Elros grabbed him and claimed the tie from Glorfindel saying, “Don’t take it out on the tie that you proposed to the wrong woman.”

Thranduil’s lips parted in a scoff and Elrond added in fixing the buttons over his middle on the tailed jacket, “Come on now, you dated her to make Tiny jealous when you didn’t know the guy she was with was her cousin.”

Thranduil, “I love-,”

Glorfindel, “We’re not saying you don’t love Kiki, we’re saying you love Tiny more.”

Those words echoed in his mind, for twenty four years since that wedding, where his wife should have been the one cast in moonlight in a sea of glowing petals in a melodic choir slow motion agonizing sea of flashbacks replaying through the entirety of his marriage.

He did love her, and he was faithful to her. He was the best Husband a woman could ask for both when he was home and when things had to go long distance when his roles took him away from her. She had her freedom as did he and he encouraged her in her avant-garde art shows until she made a name for herself in that world easing her mildly hidden jealousy of his fame to a low simmer until he helped use his name to help build up the attendance on her shows.

Her jealousy though never did cease when your name came up and from a single mention to Elrond’s wife Celebrian on her thinking of saying something to Thranduil about him having to choose between you that single scoff in their early dating years made it clear who would win. Your shows were non negotiable, your group visits she tolerated that when you were in the room he would be focused on learning more about the changes in your life. It bothered her, at first, but then even she saw it, you were staying away for her, there was little physical contact to none and never pushing any visits or anything close to something that could change any future plans except for five times, and each time was offered to her, not him. Clearly you knew the rules, who had the ring and who had won his heart and after a few years of hearing how little family you had even she had begun to believe that you had thought of your group as family.

Twenty four years however was a long run, and was nothing to be scoffed at, in fact the weight of it hurt all the more as the stress of her career and time apart from Thranduil had sent her into the arms of another. It wasn’t just another fling, it was a slow burn over the years with the gallery owner who showed her art, a shoulder for her when her façade broke before a show. A decade now all she wanted was to complete their perfect life, yet a lazy ovary and a hard kept schedule for her fertility with his latest string of six month filming jobs halfway across the world between two month tiny tv spots only worsened the matters.

A positive pregnancy test however was finally achieved, though only after they had decided to sleep apart to calm down and try to return to their relationship outside of the sexual and reproductive side while they approached having a family through a surrogate and a donor egg. A family friend, Hobbit no less, had gotten the pregnant results without trying it seemed and that must have ticked a switch in Kiki’s lazy ovary, because after eight months of sleeping apart she faced the horrifying aspect of sharing that she had her perfect man and little family she always wanted.

To his credit Thranduil took it well, she had seen him angry, she had seen him furious and outside a twitch of his eyebrow he remained almost painfully calm in the whole matter. The papers were easily drawn up, they had kept separate accounts and all that was left was the house, which they both hated the neighbors in so he kept the deed to the new house they had bought and she had followed through to moving in with her new man to start planning their nursery. All together twenty four years was neatly wrapped up in the minimum two months the courts had demanded, and the dream crib she had wanted was achieved all the easier with a big bow alongside a pair of tickets for the cruise she had always wanted to go on for her and her new fiancé. The perfect husband, and the perfect ex, she wanted a baby, husband home each night and a lovely home perfectly furnished to invite friends and family over to, with her art to escape into.

“I’m Pregnant.” The words he had wanted to hear for so long, and yet in his mind, he had been home for eight months and had been away for five before that. Clearly it wasn’t his and with how hard it had been to try and schedule nights to conceive and he really didn’t need to hear who it was, he could tell she had leaned on him. A grin here and there when saying his name, just how she had once said his, he never pushed her away from him, after all how fair would that be when his heart had been breaking over making himself lose you. He had to honor his commitment though, and never make her pay for what she didn’t ask for.

At the table he inhaled and simply stood almost making her flinch if not for his turn away to the office nearby, from which he brought out a pad and pen. All the details were drafted out and for three hours everything was listed and each room was divided to his and hers ending with the arrival of their lawyers that had been called at the beginning of it. To their shock it was already drawn up on legal pads and all that was left was to have it officially printed and for her lawyer to drive her to her new home to share the news while he had to head to work.

She felt bad she had waited till then to do it when he needed to focus. The worry was unnecessary as though it did sting to be cheated on past that all he felt was free. A quarter of a century and he was finally free to tell you how he felt. You had been single for half a year now since a cheating ordeal of your own with a Doctor caught slipping on a different type of glove for someone other than you when you had shared your offer of help to your best friend.

The news was shared and as usual when he was down and out you came to the rescue, planning a weekend trip away for the whole group. Grinning madly he climbed in his car and started to drive eager to get there early even if it meant having to wait hours for even you to arrive in your usually over early habitual ways.

An offer was made, Thranduil was struggling and it sort of just exploded out of you, “Use my eggs.” Instantly you had to lay down on the floor of your kitchen leaving the tea you had been waiting for later to calm yourself through the rest of the conversation. Details were traded over the email and when this was through you swore to yourself that you had to break this tie, you had to let him go. This was getting to where you couldn’t breathe and almost on the edge of tears, and now you had said basically that he could have your dream baby and raise it with someone else.

Work had been ruthless lately and sure you had little time for dating, a great thing after your recent discovery about your ex, and yes you wanted babies too, something the hormones to donate only made worse. Sure you would be a part of the child’s life but if you were anywhere close hopped up on hormones on your worst day you couldn’t deny the thought of abducting Thranduil and your baby to run off together somewhere she could never find you. Ring or not, she had what you had burned for inside and out and your patience was wearing thin. Sometimes the strongest way to say I love you is goodbye, or at least that was what you told yourself each night.

The apartment you shared with your ex was now belonging to someone else and halfway to homeless with all packed in a moving truck to fill a storage bin countries away a phone call came from the father you hadn’t heard of since you were a teenager halted you in your tracks. Turning around almost at the border you made your way until at the airport straight to the private airstrip you found your baby half sister being helped off your father’s private jet, little red headed hazel eyed Tauriel all of four years old along with all her belongings were loaded up into your car for the drive to a five star hotel. Just like he’d dropped you when you were a child at your gran’s and never looked back, only contacting you on birthdays and holidays to send checks like his other children before you.

Giddily the three year old bounced on top of the bed while you secured plans to move in to your Gran’s pool house for a short time until you could find a place of your own. Hanging up at the arms looping around your shoulders after leaving a message to Ecthelion about his latest listings you would need to look at you turned to play with your sister and tire her down before dinner and then bed to a film of your choosing. The future you had planned changed rather drastically, but you hoped at least having her here you might be a lot less psycho possessive over the baby you had helped Thranduil conceive.

It only took a week for Tauriel to settle into her new life here really as she was just down the street from your friends and their children she bonded with right away in your weekly dinners, the latest of which had you almost screaming. “Divorced? Since when?! We were just at their anniversary dinner!”

Glorfindel shrugged saying, “None of us saw it either, it all went down quietly in the minimum two months, but apparently she’s found someone else,”

Elros snorted and set down his drink he had almost choked on saying, “You’re missing the biggest part,”

Elrond swatted his arm as you twirled your untouched glass of wine between your fingers above your lap, “Apparently she’s pregnant too, getting her dream family finally.”

Thunderously your heart raced and you asked trying to hold back your tears, the expression on your face making the men inch closer to you at how deeply his pain had continued to affect you. They caught the same ‘fix it’ flinch in your gaze and they realized they had to act to stop this plummeting plane crash you were strapped into. You had loved him, been faithfully there for all of them, far from clingy except when you truly needed someone and always you were all in to defend or protect when possible. The marriage was one thing, but clearly at the offer of donating an egg Thranduil should have seen it, he should have drawn the line and yet he didn’t the thought of a baby with you was too much to pass up and he didn’t realize that he wouldn’t be raising your dream baby with you but in fact hurting you by taking it away and out of your reach.

Not leaving it to chance Glorfindel said, “We should go up to the cabin this weekend. Just like in school, to start over the right way. Campfires, some drinks, burgers, smores. Go back to the good old days.”

You couldn’t argue, not when they kept on bringing up past stories and before long they had walked you back to your gran’s and gotten her to agree to watch Tauriel for the weekend for your trip. In their stroll back they had called Thranduil and shared the news himself, only fibbed a bit saying you had brought up reliving your glory days up in the cabin that was your group getaway.

Packed and ready you were off in your car, not as early as you had hoped after packing just a bit too much to prep for anything, especially when each time before you had been missing something each time you had gone up there leading to your laughable trio of suitcases the men would no doubt laugh at. Hours the path from the city to the country you drove tapping your fingers and humming awkwardly loud to the song on the radio trying to force yourself to be calm remembering the days by the lake and lounging in the hammock outside the cabin on lazy days no doubt bringing you face to bare pectorals with that recently divorced best friend of yours. Still to get back at him, subconsciously of course, you’d packed that same bikini from that pool party your friendship began in prepping for, tiny and neon that hugged you perfectly keeping his eyes so hungrily on you all night before whatever you did that turned him off of you.

The welcome of the long dirt road through the post card perfect town you passed seemingly readying for something brought you up to a tire track bearing dirt drive through a set of winding hills up to the two story wood cabin resting under an oddly grey sky. Shifting your gaze downwards you spotted a familiar truck mostly unloaded and the front door to the cabin open. Parked beside the truck you opened the door and huffed at the blast of cold air shockingly far from the late summer temperatures from the city surely scared off by whatever storm was coming. Unbuckled you climbed to your feet and closed the door behind you then strolled around the back of it to grab the final two bags from the back of the truck containing blankets and pillows making you smirk.

Up to the door you strolled hearing boot steps coming closer to the open door. At the base of the front steps you looked up seeing a fellow blonde bun bearing Elf, “Hey Hot Pants Man.”

Rolling his eyes that same smirking chuckle broke from him spreading an instinctual smirk from you at his retort, “Bout time Squirtle Girl.” He said grabbing a bag from you turning to look you over in your own long sleeve shirt hanging over the tops of your favorite jeans covering most of your boots, an outfit similar to him except for his flannel and leather jacket over it he hadn’t worn in years you loved to steal from him back in school.

Peering around you said, “Colder than I thought it’d be.”

He nodded and added the bag to the spare room he’d filled with his other supplies making you smirk wider as your not being the only one to over prep. “Yes, seems we’ve beaten a storm in.”

“A, hope the guys get through alright.”

Thranduil chuckled, “No doubt Glori will love flooring it through the storm like the old days. He’d race after a Balrog that one.”

You giggled widening a smile across his face, “Oh yes, just like that one tornado.”

“Yes. Exactly, Celebrian’s in labor and he’s off chasing tornados for the perfect picture.”

You shook your head, “I honestly am so concerned for his parents, how they manage to live knowing he’s out there on his own left to his whims,” making Thranduil laugh in his turn to join you out to your car.

“How’s Tauriel? Elros texted me about her. How, is that affecting things, he said you were thinking about moving.”

You nodded, “Ya,” opening your trunk making him laugh at the suitcases and bags of food you had bought along the way, “Don’t laugh, Mr I packed my whole bed with supplies.”

He shook his head, “Just, like minds. You were saying?” Taking up armfuls to carry in behind you and your supply.

“Well, I moved out, got a moving truck,” at that his heart was racing wondering if you had still wanted to move after this, “Got to the border when my dad called. Was just in time to pick her up at the airport,” you set down the bags of food in the kitchen he helped you put away, “Asshole sent her off alone on a jet. Well, gran let me rent her pool house and Ecthelion is coming up with a list of houses for me to look at.”

Turning again you went to grab your suitcases you brought inside into your usual room. Once again you had peered up at Thranduil at his awkwardly silent self ending when he blurted out, “Take a hike,” Your brow ticked up, “We, we should take a hike. If the guys are going to be late, no use in just waiting around, and we can break into the old pattern after our usual trail. They should be here by then.”

With a nod you replied, “Sure, sounds good.” Grabbing your jacket you pulled it on following him to the door he locked behind you both and led the way off to your usual path with his hands buried in his pockets.

Not long into the walk he stole another glance down at you seeing you reach out to grab a tall stalk with a tiny bundle of white flowers on the end you couldn’t quite remember the name of you spun between your fingertips. Hastily he wet his lips then said, “I got divorced.”

Glancing up at him you nodded, “I heard. You could have said something.”

He shook his head trying to ease the hint of pain in your voice, “It, it’s really hard to describe.” He sighed, “We just, it was the distance, and it all seemed so easy, and then the fertility came up, and my work pressed that harder for her stress on trying to schedule ovulation and all that. She suggested sleeping alone, for months before, to try to, date again I guess, rekindle things. Well, she did relax, and fell harder for the gallery owner, which I support, he was there for her, loves her, can give her what I couldn’t.”

He wet his lips again and blurted out looking at you, “I’m keeping the baby,” freezing in place you looked up at him, “Not, that I never would have, I always was,” he sighed and shook his head then started over, “I wanted you to know, my plans on that front haven’t changed.” With tears in your eyes he inhaled again and you nodded and took another step making him tear his hand from his pocket to grab your arm turning you, “Tiny.”

Facing him again you shook your head and sniffled wiping a stray tear from your cheek, “I’m a terrible person.”

Stepping closer his hands settled on your arms, “You’re nothing of the sort!”

“I wanted to help you. So much.” His eyes narrowed trying to hold back his own ache to cry at your tears, “You wanted a baby, and I wanted to help you. Then I did,” you sniffled again and his lips parted just barely, “Then it hit me, it’s a baby, and suddenly I had nothing to do with it, so I wanted to leave,” Your voice cracked and he moved close drawing you into his chest feeling a tear stream down his cheek finally realizing what he’d done. “I’m such a terrible-,”

“You are not terrible. Nothing of the sort!” Reaching down he curled his fingers under your chin he tilted it back, “I am so sorry. I am the one who should apologize. Just assuming that having a baby with you to raise with someone else, how hard that would be. For Bella, it’s not her egg, she’s been a surrogate before, from a family where that’s a common gift. I should have known how hard that would be for you. This is not just my baby, it’s ours, and the papers are going to say that. As soon as that test went positive I knew it would be hard to have a piece of you and trying to push you into an awkward triangle of parenting where you would be pushed aside when you were the one who gave me this baby. I never knew how hard this would be, and I am so, infinitely sorry for not sitting down to actually think it over, especially for you.”

Unable to think of what to say you nodded and kept walking on and you said, “I found a cute crib.”

Making him smirk down at you as you dried your cheeks with your sleeves. “Oh? Do tell.” For nearly an hour in the dropping of the temperature you chatted strolling closer and closer together all the way under the darkening clouds above all the way around back to the cabin again.

Outside it you looked around saying, “How are they still not here?”

Thranduil shrugged, “Maybe they left a message.” You nodded and followed him up the steps into the cabin saying, “You check the machine, I’ll start on the fire.”

Over to the fireplace he went and crouched while you made for the phone seeing a blinking light on the message machine. Finger outstretched you hit the button and Elros’ voice filled the empty cabin, “Tiny, Thran, ya, turns out there’s a big storm headed out to the cabin and there’s one brewing here at home. Sniffles are going round through our little ones and we can’t leave our Love’s alone in this, so, you two enjoy the weekend, maybe if things pick up we might make it out tomorrow if we can beat the storm.”

The scent of a comforting fire filled the room and you caught Thranduil’s eye with a quick grin, “So, sniffles.”

Nodding back he replied smoothing his palms together trying not to seem too anxious to be alone with you, “Supper then.”

Precooked pot roast, your favorites of his recipes, was put in the oven to warm up and already he was beaming lighting the lanterns along the walls and on the table when the sky darkened even more. Wine from dinner soon bled into whiskey and the bag of smores supplies was too much to ignore anymore. Under the flickers of stars through the spreading clouds a warm fire pit was lit and your giggle filled mess of a conversation continued on between sloppy bouts of feeding one another smores. Only delving into more giggling trips down memory lane as his playful nip at your fingers had come without just a splash more of liquid courage to take it as anything but the liquor fueled accident you assumed it to be.

Up again in a rocking fit of laughter you were seated on blankets and pillows around the campfire with flickers of stars shining in the sky both adjusting the spare blankets wrapped around you for extra warmth. Wetting his lips Thranduil beamed at you brightly as you said, “Miss Marya, and those daily questions on the board. Oh, her favorite,” Thranduil laughed again remembering the one you meant and then nipped at his lip aching to just close the distance and kiss you. “If you had the power to change one person’s life, how would you do it?” Giggling again in his chuckling downing of the last of the whiskey you passed him, looking him over with a lick of your lips in doing so. “What about you? What would you do?”

A single adorable tick of your brow and the bottle fell from his hand at his side to the blanket. Over his shoulders the blankets around him shifted in his cupping of your cheeks, warmly his lips crashed into yours molding against them in the slip of his knee knocking you onto your back. Still holding your cheeks a slip of his thumb dipped between your mouths in a moments pause for him to shift his left leg between yours with his right. And in the darkened gaze up at him and the flick of your tongue against his fingertip the hungry kiss began again with tongues searching blindly for a common rhythm in the mingling of hums. Up around his neck your hands slid keeping him from drawing back again when his hands fumbled the blankets from between you to wrap you around him under his blankets and himself for warmth. A gasping glance up at the clouds releasing a single snowflake was the least clear moment you had in the dip of his lips down the side of your neck.

Nestled under the covers a final crack of the dying fire your eyes flickered open in Thranduil’s waking grumble retracting his foot under the covers at the cold, still wrapped around your chest holding you tightly his lips met your neck in your reach up from his back to pull the covers back. “Feels colder.”

Lifting his head Thranduil squinted into the night then felt his eyes snap wide open at the dip of snow you were both in he looped your legs around his middle. And he brought all your snacks, shoes, clothes and blankets between the two of you in the cocoon of blankets he covered you for the trot through the snow to the front door. Giggling to yourself you stayed in his hold while he pushed the door shut with his foot and reached out to lock it, as if that could keep the cold away from you. Straight to the living room where your former snuggling pit was he set you down and coiled up in his blanket after covering you in yours to relight the fire. Again he nipped at his lip and hurried back to you pulling more of the still slightly warm comforters he’d brought to cover your snow coated blankets he tossed away along the wall and wrapped his arms around you laying at your side.

Swallowing dryly he looked you over and his hand sank from your hip over the thigh you shifted to lay on top of his leg, “Are you busy Thursday?”

With a smirk he hummed back, “I’m fairly certain we’ll still be here Thursday.”

Easing your arms around his neck you sighed back deepening his smirk in the subtle tug bringing him against you again, “What ever shall we do?”

He shrugged and playfully replied, “I’m certain we could think of something. Decorating our home for one,” kissing your cheek sweetly then moving his lips back to your neck to hum again, “planning a nursery,”

“Our home?”

Drawing back he cupped your cheek to lock eyes with you, “Oh you’re moving in with me, you and Tauri both. It’s still all boxes, nothing close to ready for our baby.”

Playfully you smirked up at him, “You really think I would just move in with you like that? I mean, I’m going to need a little something extra to convince me.”

“Oh really? How expensive is this something extra?”

You shrugged, “I might settle for you wearing those hot pants of yours to bed.” Making him roll his eyes and crash his lips into yours again wrapping your legs and arms around him in his move above you again muffling your giggles through his deep chuckle

Truly the storm did pick up, and sure enough well into the next week you were trapped, though to keep as much time to make up for lost time you were still enjoying your break when the guys arrived eager to see if you’d coupled or killed each other after the phones going down due to the now passed storm.

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

X Thranduil - @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @tigereyesf, @pastelhexmaniac

#Theincaprincesswritingchallenge #30daywritingchallengebytheincaprincess #hobbit #lotr #Thranduil x Reader OC #Snowed In

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royal-writer · 5 years

Text

Anywhere you go

let me go, too

- - - -

In the deepest dark she’d ever known, no sound was ever so ghastly and hair-raising as that of the unnatural echo of Penimra’s words. They were less words and more horrifying sounds; whispers that clawed at the back of her mind and made Essätha shudder as he read aloud the alien runes upon the pillars and walls in the corroding labyrinth. He had stopped entirely translating them in the common tongue; for which she was grateful. Hearing the twisted language of Deep Speech was enough. Knowing the incantations he murmured were gruesome promises of torture ahead was even more unnerving.

As each gnarled turn lead to more dead-ends, damp corners, and overgrown areas where deadly plants had taken over and the decayed bodies lay stacked, her hope began to fade further and further into away.

They would not be leaving this hellish place alive.

“We should stop to rest,” Ravamora insisted, her sleeve covering her nostrils to block the stench of mildew. “I haven’t smelled any decaying bodies lately. Maybe no one has gotten this far in?”

“Or maybe whatever abominations may yet reside in this hell devoured their victims whole,” Abernathy concluded. Essie had to side-step to avoid a drip of blood falling off the end of his axe from the fiend he had cleavered in half not but just a few turns and twists ago. Or what felt like a few turns and twists. She felt hopelessly lost in the depths of the chaos of the winding maze.

Lingering behind her; still adjusting the darkvision goggles upon their face with discomfort, Sulhadur added in: “Unless anyone is feeling unwell with fatigue, I agree we should keep moving forward. I’d like to get out of this place.”

“I don’t think I could sleep here even if I was exhausted,” Adela choked, wrapping her tail firmly around herself like a security blanket.

“Let’s just keep moving,” Pen stated; his voice hoarse from uttering the harsh ancient language. “There’s more of these scriptures to read.”

Hoping the mental health of their warlock wasn’t becoming obsessed in the texts, Essie shuddered and without argument, pressed on. Her wary legs were tired; feet dragging sluggishly. The walls felt cramped the further they got themselves lost within the realms of tunneling walls. Every second felt endless; spiraling further into nothing with no result.

The scurrying of Pri’cha’s small limbs bounded in random spurts to catch up to them. Glancing back, the Yuan-Ti woman noted the helpless bug trying to make sense of their surroundings. Within their clawed digits they held a journal, which they were scribbling notes on direction and flipping through tirelessly to try drawing an accurate map should they become lost.

Too late for that, she thought sourly. Not wanting to upset the fluffy innocent Thri-Kreen though, Essie didn’t snark her bad mood upon the distressed looking cleric. They were only doing the best they could, in uncertain circumstance.

As something brushed by her right side, Essätha shuddered and flinched warily. With a squint of her gaze, she glimpsed over to where the nobleman, too, had jumped in surprise. His boots scuffled against the slick cool ground, trying to give her space in the cramped quarters.

“Difficult to breathe,” she rasped, her lungs feeling constricted from the stale air and pungent odor.

“Mmm,” Lord Amon agreed in a rumbling echo. His mouth was only parted enough to breathe through; not daring the smells to enter his nose. She didn’t blame him.

A slight haze continuously covered at the lenses of his nightvision goggles, and he wiped at the condensation with irritation from the hot puffy air of his breathing with the linen tightly grasped in the hand baring his shield. As he reached up to repeat the action for the dozenth or so time, she reached for the handkerchief to gently wipe at them herself.

He smiled. “I can do it; I’ve got two hands.”

“And the other is carrying a sword,” she reminded him. “I’m still waiting for you to bonk yourself on the head with the shield every time you raise your hand to do this.”

To her amazement, he rasped a chuckle despite their dire circumstance.

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered by your gesture, or offended on the blow to my common sense.”

“To be fair, I’m considering my own intelligence when I say this, not your own.”

He huffed at her remark in a way that said he disagreed. With no further response however, she turned her attention back to the front of the group as Penimra lead them onward further into the black void of passages.

Through the crooks and bends, snaking past crumbling walls and stumbling over cracks and risen blocks, the party trailed along the silent corridors. Only their boots and breathes echoed like an eerie symphony. Essätha felt as though she was going mad, listening to the sound of her heartbeat in her ears.

“Hurmph,” Penimra paused, swaying their rounded hips in place as they stood before what appeared to be another dead end. He tilted his head slightly, the mask upon his face adding to the comical bird-like gesture.

“What is it, nister Peninra?”

Ignoring the hushed inquiry from their devoted cleric, the warlock raised a gloved hand to rest upon the stone. The rune upon this one didn’t appear inscribed, so much as scribbled on with ink.

“This one’s different,” the high-elf remarked. “It’s newer; not written like the others.” The transcribing smeared a bit beneath his touch. The Yuan-Ti’s stomach knotted as it revealed a reddish tint beneath the aged oxidized brown.

Blood.

The verse letters began to glitter faintly, and the wall began to part before their very eyes. Everyone shuffled a few steps back warily, as the opening yawned open before them. The transaction was smooth; timeless as though built yesterday. The walls did not groan, and barely any dust stirred from the settled structure.

“Oh thank Torm,” Abernathy brightly explained. “Finally; a way out.”

“I don’t trust it,” Adela whispered. “Pen, what did that rune say?”

With one foot already slid over the threshold, the paladin orc came to an abrupt halt. They appeared torn between running through, and remaining a statue in place from the sorceress’ words.

“Enter,” Penimra validated, standing curiously still. “All that rune meant, was ‘enter’.”

“What do you suppose we do, Adela?” Essätha spoke up; her voice dry and croaking. “Continue wandering in hopes for a better way out?”

“There’s no reason for attitude-”

Sighing, Essie crossed her arms, ignoring the red Dragonborn’s lecture. She was achy, thirsty, and fighting hunger purely through her disgust for her surroundings She didn’t trust to eat or drink a drop here, without something dripping from the ceiling into her food and contaminating it.

“Allow me to go first,” Abernathy politely offered. “If this is a chance at getting out, I think we should take it. I will protect you, Adela, I promise.”

She worried for a moment that the pink Tiefling would reject this notion. Chewing on her lip, her jewelry jingling quietly in the dead silence. But Adela finally and thankfully accepted after a few moments pause, bobbing her head up and down, and with no further argument from the tired remainder, Abernathy proceeded onward through the new gateway.

A light shoulder brushed against hers as they squeezed through the doorway. Essie leaned away instinctively, trying not to suffocate anyone with her presence. With a glance, she spotted the green filters of the darkvision goggles on Amon’s face, stealing away the dark blue of his eyes as he looked back at her.

The contact was not accidental. His hand grazed along hers; the shield to his back. A touch so light it was easy to consider she was only imagining it.

She took his hand and squeezed with a demure smile.

He appeared unsettled.

“M’lord?”

“We’re going to follow the instructions painted in what could arguably be blood at a dead end stone wall?” he contended unhappily. “Does this really sound like the best course of action?”

She sighed uncomfortably. “No. But what if it does offer us a sustainable exit? We don’t know who, or what, made this entry, let alone if it’s still alive.”

“And if it is how it appears: a trap?”

“We’ve had to behead, burn, and assault various monsters so far in this labyrinth,” Essie pointed out. “If it’s just one more, I think we should be able to handle it.”

A long, tired sigh escaped the nobleman. He flexed his hand around hers as he murmured to himself, “Are you sure about that?”

Those had to be some of the most eerie words she’d ever heard. They plagued doubt into the mind like a scavenging infection, raging on the mind. It was the whispering uncertainty of a god’s mockery in the back of the mind, and it made her feel much less certain about her enthusiasm in running headlong into what she hoped to be freedom.

The single path seemed to take them deeper and deeper into the unknown, and further away from the maze left behind them. She began to question the length of the open room, and it’s security, when something crunched beneath Abernathy’s boots ahead.

Everyone came to a deafening halt, to examine what he’d stepped on.

“Rat bones.”

An exhale of relief echoed amongst them.

“You’d expect vermin, right?” Adela laughed almost hysterically with fear. “There’s nothing strange about rat bones scattered around the room, right?”

“Scattered?” Sulhadur breathed. “They’re all pretty uniform to me, Adela.”

“No,” she corrected, her voice showing her confusion. “There’s more, right over here.”

“… And here,” Ravamora whispered. “And here,” Pri’cha chirped.

Sure enough, as Essätha followed their pointing fingers, her eyes zeroed in on the random other pieces of bone. They all appeared mostly small, but none appeared to be part of the skeleton of the rat Abe had stepped on. These were random pieces. Part of a rib here of some small creature, a femur from what looked like another there, and then there was a finger bone there…

“Are they all parts of rats?” Penimra asked almost hopefully.

The tightness of Amon’s hand against hers increased. “Let’s keep moving, quickly.”

There was no disagreement to investigate. In a burst of energy, the cautious footsteps that had began to take them through the new passage began to pick up speed. As it did so, the air temperature; which had been unnoticed to them as growing chillier, began to change. It grew colder and colder the deeper into the rabbit hole they fled. The air seemed to have a draft; or perhaps it was simply them, rushing, feet clamoring, the sound of their footsteps like thunder in the bleak silence.

Walls began to open further and further, revealing a chamber’s space. The air was misted with hanging crystals of moisture. It caused Essätha to shiver not just from the biting cold to her sensitive nerves, but from the liquid suspended in the air. It was almost artful; rain frozen in time, you could almost make out the visible microscopic snowflakes drifting as the air escaped lungs in clouds.

“There’s a door!”

Essie followed the bubbly, sob-like relief in the jeweler’s voice. Sure enough, there was what appeared to be a half-collapsed threshold on the opposite side of the room. It looked like a tight squeeze to pass through for some of the party members, but it was a promising change to the dreary room and nightmare tunnels far behind.

As they stepped inside the misty terrain, a growing sense of paranoia enveloped her. Static seemed to sizzle and crackle in the air; or was it just the chill in her goosebumps? Her eyes moved around the room, and she quickly realized she was not the only one to recognize the charge as some of the others began to gaze around.

To her deepest regret, Amon released her hand to retrieve his shield.

“What are all of you pausing for?” Sul asked, oblivious. He scanned the area like the rest of them, taking up his impressive shield to offer cover towards anxious-looking warlock near him.

Essätha held her breath as she turned in a tight circle. Amon’s attendance shifted from her side, to angular; giving her partial cover with his body and shield as the group formed a loose ringed circle with each other. His breathing was relaxed compared to her own; more ragged, adding to the haze of white swirling around them.

To the right, just out of sight between the fog and darkness, a boulder quivered and moved. It’s bumpy, discolored surface flexed like a quivering egg ready to hatch. It rolled to one side, and then the other.

“I can’t see shit,” the warlock whined.

“Shush,” Abe growled. “Look. Listen.”

Essätha squinted through the darkness with her superior darkvision, seeing something floating independently in the air. It’s shadows moved; a spherical orb of milky flesh white.

A singular crimson eye turned towards them and hovered.

Instead of words, a horrified and breathy hiss burned through her chest as she raised a hand; a flurry of magic sparking in violet hues along her fingers.

The words barely spat out of her mouth, and suddenly, the mound of cancerous looking skin flew in their direction. Her Chill Touch missed the erratic movement of the hovering creature as it twisted out of the way, and her companions all turned their attention in the direction she was.

Emitting curses in the Deep Speech she only recognized the sound from Penimra’s repetitive translations, the creature launched itself at them. Some of the ridges and bumps on its bodies suddenly extended. Arm-like appendages exploded outward; further, and then further still, and the collective screams of half the startled party filled the room in a unified echo as tentacles came swatting upon them from the monstrosity.

The one directed towards her was quickly adverted; slamming against Amon’s shield as he flung it up protectively. A second limb smashed against Sulhadur’s thick armor, doing effectively nothing. The third slapped Penimra, looping itself partly around his waist.

The high-elf let out the most alarming screech; their beak-mask opening to reveal rows of gnarled teeth. As disturbing as the cursed elf’s face was, Essie had seen it before. Seeing the rows of teeth at the end of the alien creature’s appendages; their color red and pulsing with life-blood, pierce through his clothes and into flesh however was a whole new kind of terror.

Gushes of red swelled around where the tentacle planted itself, and like a vampire to prey, it fed in horrifying gulps from its toothy limb like a ritualistic death kiss.

“Let go of my boy!” Abernathy suddenly roared, lifting the axe from his shoulder as he charged forward. His arms reared back, his legs braced, and Essätha watched as the weapon came down upon the monstrosities rounded, ugly body.

It screeched; the sound coming from seemingly every direction. As it howled and writhed, it’s many-limbs flinging themselves wildly around, Abernathy too let out a startled cry. Arcs of static seemed to burst from the wound; lightning coursing up the paladin’s arms and leaving dark scorch marks and the smell of seared flesh stinging the air.

She sucked in a breath as Amon stepped forward on one side, Sulhadur on the other, and the pair raised their swords to bring them down upon the appendage wrapped around Penimra. The creature bellowed and thrashed further as blood oozed and spurted; the limb nearly detached from the furiousity of the two blows. Unlike the previous blow directly upon it’s body, there was no after-shocks of electricity to catch on their weapons like lightning rods.

Fear overwrote all reason.

Adela casted; a flurry of fireballs zipping past the floating orb of the creature’s mass as it jerked from side to side. Pri’cha, quick as their little feet could manage, barreled to the front to raise their lit candlestick and utter a cry to Pelor. To the utmost misfortune; it was thrown off entirely by the beast’s movements.

Another lashing of its limbs, and the beastly abomination flung its limbs around once again. One struck Abernathy this time; finding nothing to latch to than armor, which cracked a few of its ‘teeth’. The second hurled towards Pri’cha, finding it hard to make purchase on the cleric. The third, still weakly squirming, turned redder in color as it sucked a massive surge of blood out of the warlock.

In a single violent shudder, Penimra collapsed.

Run.

Her legs were stuck. She could not urge the muscles to move. It was as if she was turned to stone.

Essätha watched, transfixed, as Adela howled in terror for their high-elf companion. She flung herself to grab at him, falling with the man as he slumped down. Another rise of their weapons, and Amon and Sulhadur hacked into the squirming limb, leaving it hanging by only tendrils. Almost as soon as they were lifting their weapons again, Abernathy let out a curse of his own as a sneaky tendril throttled him; physically knocking the man- the towering figure of their impervious paladin- flat on his rear and failing to suffocate his arm in a vise-grip.

Ravamora; who had taken towards running for the exit, lifted their bow to fire an arrow towards the orb, missing entirely. “Come on!”

The creature’s eye locked on to Essie, meeting her gaze.

Run, little girl.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She could run.

How far, though? How fast? Would her legs fail her, or would they never stop; never halt, never give her a chance to look back, to see what she left behind, to see the slaughter, the massacre, the failure, the devastation in wake of a lifetime of mistakes.

Amon grabbed hold of Penimra, grunting heavily as Sulhadur’s sword came down once more to detatch the remaining repulsive limb. No sooner, he turned to grab Pen’s legs to help carry him out; a shimmer of magic emitting from his hands.

“Niss Essie, help us!” Pri’cha urged; lifting their candle. The source of light was vanished in an instant; just like their lives seemed to be. A wriggling limb slapped the candle, breaking it, and swatted the tiny bug hard enough to make them trill sharply in agony.

Adela tripped over her own tail, yelping as she lifted her hand. A blast of fire erupted; searing the chilled air and making condensation rain drops drip mid-air. One ray pelted the monster’s body and it recoiled, leaving a guttural sound of pain and anger. Abernathy in turn winced, trying to hack at the creature as embers rained down upon him, spots of blood appearing where the teeth gauged into the side of his neck.

She felt like a detached entity. Her hand raised, the snake-shaped magic missiles warping into existence and volleying across the span of distance. Two seemed to blankly be dismissed, striking limbs, a third to its side, and then the final hit just below, infuriating the beast further.

As Ravamora fired off another arrow; the end jabbing a limb, the monster lunged. One limb pulsed with Abernathy’s blood, and two more came flying out towards her braced position.

Run.

She did not even flinch as the extended body part hit her. One struck her squarely in the face; and she gasped with surprise more than anything. The other hit her abdomen, the winding of the limb dragging against her stomach as it latched on to soft skin beneath her shirt.

It was like being bitten and having electric currents bursting into your blood vessels all at once.

Essie shrieked; her brain screaming at her to function, to release the tension in her legs.

“Follow Rava; we’ll see if we can’t blockade the exit!” Abernathy gurgled, thrusting his axe downward in an arc. Between the pouring blood that spurted out of the wound, and the visible charge of electrical fields zapping outward, the paladin of Torm cried out in astonishment.

Adela, way ahead of Abe, was already with the other two gentleman carrying away Penimra. She said something; something Essie’s muffled eardrums could not make out, before gesturing with her hands and casting yet another bombardment of pluming fire. They sporadically went everywhere in her panic; one lighting Abernathy’s pants leg on fire and another coming dangerously close to Ess as she physically grabbled with the strength of the appendage draining her of blood.

“Sir Adernathy!” Pri’ weakly exclaimed, raising a dagger. They seemed to hesitate with the physical embodiment of a weapon, before bringing it crashing down upon the beast’s limb, and throwing yet another at it’s body.

It roared with fury, twisting and lashing it’s limbs.

Boots and clawed-feet clamoring, Sul joined the bug-cleric in raising his sword to hack at another limb. Another arrow followed; puncturing the animalistic being’s side with a warbled sound of pain. It flung out more of its tentacles, one smashing into Sul’s horns uselessly, another slapping at Pri’, and it’s third and fourth draining blood from its captors.

The color in her cheeks was pale as Essie struggled. Her head felt like it was full of cotton.

Run.

The limb had all but ensnared her waist, and she could feel her vitality faltering.

Flee now.

A blade came flying down at full force, severing the limb nearly in two in a single swipe.

“Run, Essätha!”

She gasped for breath, her head spinning. Pools of crimson dots on her shirt, and growing. She barely staggered in place, disoriented. Abernathy and Sul were yelling distantly; trying to gather the beast’s attention as the remainder of the party headed for the exit, violently waving arms to come.

Lord Amon’s face broke through the surface waves clouding her. He was close, the smell of blood, sweat, and pine lingering on him.

“Essie, we have to go, now!”

The blade came down again, piercing through the limb and forcing it to detatch helplessly, barely in one piece. Amon swatted at it, grabbing her by the hand.

She was a dead weight, and nearly fell against him as he dragged her forward.

One of its limbs not assaulting in vain upon the armor of the paladins was barely deflected from either of them as the nobleman raised his shield.

“Essie, please!”

His voice was helpless. Terrified. She could see the fear in his eyes through the tunnel-vision.

When he pulled at her again, her legs found themselves. Every step felt like an agonizing mile in strained calves.

Another lashing of its legs as fire and arrows came hurtling at it across the room. The beastly thing cursed them some more in the foreign tongue, and a limb came within inches of missing Amon, only to circle back and strike her as she lagged. Her legs stumbled, and she fell against the Illiad heir.

He hit his knees, biting back a groan as she nearly toppled over him.

“Almost there,” he panted, sheathing his blade to take her hand. “We’re almost there, Essätha, come on.”

As he scrambled to his feet, he grabbed her hand and surged her along with him. She was almost dizzy with the vertigo of standing so swiftly, her entire body felt like it was on an entirely different plane than her mind. She sucked in violent gulps of air, fumbling to keep up with his pace as Amon hurtled them through the tight, narrow space to squeeze into the next area.

Sul and Abe broke through seconds behind them.

Slamming weapons and magic into the crumbling gateway, two limbs managed to shoot through before they were trapped. A wall of stone came tumbling down, breaking the monster’s limbs. A distant shriek could be heard as it’s twitching, blood-sucking mouth-ends fell limp on the floor mere inches from them all.

With heavy panting the others turned to glance among each other. A murmur of words, and Sul and Abernathy were busily exchanging the divine healing granted from their God’s to Penimra and each other from glance blows. A dazed Penimra sat on the floor, Adela and Rava on either side of him as they murmured encouragingly to the confused-looking elf with droopy ears. Only Pri’cha, interested by the new and unexplained, cracked open their notebook with a muted ‘fascinating’ as they began to sketch the creature from memory and it’s crushed limbs, jotting down notes.

Essätha breathed out a held breath. Her body visibly shook; grabbing at herself; her chest, her limbs, any part of her she could reach. Her legs felt lead-laid again. Her mind was still in a viscous cycle, screaming at her to run, over and over again. Tears danced in and out of her vision as she tried to comprehend the urgent sense of fight or flight rearing up like a phantom memory.

A hand reached out for her, gently grasping her own. “You’re hurt. Let me-”

Before he could finish his sentence, stepping closer, she jerked away with a winded, wheezing gasp. Her arm fell away from the tender gentleness of his grasp to be held against her shirt, now spoiled with dust and rows of tattered shirt, shredded skin, and blood.

“Essätha, it’s only me,” Amon urged, his voice gentle, but raised to be hurt. He reached for her once more, slower this time, letting her see that it was just his hands, and nothing more.

“May I see, please? Would you let me-”

Another raspy breath, and she ignored him entirely. Run. Run the voice repeated, over and over again. She was afraid and her body hurt; her legs hurt, her tummy especially hurt, she hurt.

Run.

“Essie?” he murmured, more confused as his hands gently, gently, folded around hers.

She met his gaze this time, wordlessly.

His expression was filled with pleading. Worry etched in the lines of his face; drawn deeper than ever. The window to his soul was naked in his gaze. Bruised feelings of worry in those dark blues.

“What happened, back there?” Amon whispered. “Why didn’t you run?”

Warmth like the sun trailed from his touch. She’d forgotten entirely this new magic. The healing artistry of his touch, even before the magic, was pure in just the soft ways he held her hands. Usually it made her so calm, but now, her thoughts were rampant. She wanted to dive her fingers into his hair and fall into his chest and promise it was nothing; and smile up into his endearing face and watch the ways his smile grew. She loved that, most of all; the transition, the way his eyes squinted every so slightly, the softness of his mouth pulled, tugging, trying to restrain himself from a full-blown grin, the tenderness in him and the ease of his expression.

Still trying to find enough air to breathe; it felt so thin and unfulfilling, her eyes could not settle anywhere. Not on Amon; the worry in his face making her insides fidget further. Not on his hands, as she impulsively wanted to ask him to cradle her instead. The floor, mostly, was the safest option.

“I wanted to,” she explained hoarsely. “More than anything.”

“But I was afraid if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I promised you I’d be there. I promised you I’d stay. I couldn’t live with myself, if I broke that promise. I couldn’t live with myself, hurting you.”

Her voice cracked and broke into a faltering silence at the end. The wash of light from his hands extinguished; healing a great deal of the worst of the puncture marks in her chest. It made her breathing no less easier. In fact, her lungs felt more constricted now, than ever.

“… Oh Essätha.”

The wavering notes of her name were so painstakingly drawn out on his tongue. It sounded so beautiful, such a simple thing as a name. It brought her attention up to him, drawn by his voice; a call in the dark.

His eyes were even more lovely than his voice. It was strange to see herself reflected in the dark pools. The center of his attention, and she was unafraid. Quite the opposite in fact; she felt safe, and warm, and special as he wrapped his fingers tighter around her own, taking a step closer into the circumference of her space.

She caught her breath all at once.

“There is no place I wouldn’t follow you,” Amon remarked; his voice thick. “I’d find you, if only to be sure you were safe; and if you never wanted to hear from me again, I would understand, and never bother you again if you desired. If your spirit tells you you need the room to roam free, run until your legs give out, and I will find you if only to assure you that there is still a place for you, at my side.

“But if you ever need to run because you were scared, or in danger, or the world was too much to carry, or you were hurting, you can always run to me. You can always run to me. I will always have room for you, in my arms. I will always take you in; to be your shelter, your shield, your friend, whatever you may need me to be, I will be for you. I am always here for you, Essätha; always.”

He paused, his fingers weaving between her own. “Anywhere you may go, let me go, too.”

With her mouth hanging speechlessly open, she clung to his fingers. They were careful, even in his strength. The returned affection of his squeeze was pure gentle affections.

“… You would chase me, if I fled?” she cautiously inquired, licking her lips.

“To the very ends of the earth.”

“Why?”

His smile was almost pained. “To make sure you are comfortable, and that you are safe.” He paused to take a breath. “I would leave the moment you asked, but I… I would have to make sure you are okay. That you are living the sort of life you deserve, wherever that may be. That you’re happy.”

“I am happy,” she blurted out; all attempts to refrain nonexistent. “I’m happy when I’m with you.”

“I just- I have bad habits; I get frightened and it’s like an impulse, it’s how I’ve… survived so long-”

He held her hands fiercely. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Essie.”

“I feel I owe you that,” she barely breathed. He was so close; the weight of his lashes were half-mast.

Amon gave the smallest shake of his head. “You don’t need to do that, anymore than I wish for you to drag yourself through memories that may hurt you like fresh wounds trying to explain. I understand all I need, and that is enough. You owe me nothing; you haven given me more than enough kindness, and I trust you. You are entitled to yourself and your privacy.”

Her heart squeezed. She loved him so much, her body ached with longing.

She took the last two steps into his chest, and his arms found their way free of hers and around her as hers did to him. He was filled with the suns rays; warm, inviting, homey. Her body relaxed; melting entirely into the embrace.

“Thank you, m’lord.”

The broad sweeps of his palms rubbed the length of her spine in soothing circles as he nestled beside her ear. “You owe me no thanks, Essie.”

Oh but I do, she wanted to cry. For all the gentle ways you nurture my heart, I owe you that and so much more. Everything. I owe you everything for your kindness.

Stay, her heart whispered.

Stay, her brain echoed in agreement.

For what felt like the first time, a peaceful, coherent agreement. The pair of them, surrounded by their crumbled walls of fear from a lifetime of solitude and agony. Now they were sharing the sun, dancing in the wild unknown, interlocked. His breath tickling against her ear so she shivered. A yearning more profound than any words echoing through her in an endless cycle; filling the chasms of her voided soul.

Stay.

The idea was tantalizing. Tempting. Filled with want.

Gods, I’ll stay the rest of my days, if he’ll have me, her thoughts mused. A flutter in her chest, and her heart twisted and hummed and raced with agreement.

Home is where the heart is, they said. And that was all the reason she needed to stay.

#royal writes #essamon ship #amon illiad #Essie rw #ooohh the sweet sweet fluff my heart

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therobotmonster · 7 years

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Obscure Enemies of the NES TMNT Game

There is a shocking lack of coverage of the original TMNT NES game, outside of very justified commentary on its unfair difficulty and some poor design decisions (like the dam message).

But the TMNT NES game is unique in that it was very early in the for-kids TMNT canon, and has a lot of wacky concepts that don’t show up anywhere else. I’m not going to be bothering with Mousers and Foot Ninjas and the like, but baddies that are original to the game.

Unless otherwise noted, the names are my inventions, as only a few enemies got names/descriptions in the manual.

Sewer Bug - Your basic fly-back-and-forth baddie, the Sewer Bug is one of the less interesting entries. Its hard to tell from the sprite, but it is either some kind of mutated wasp or bee or its a robot bug-shaped drone used by the Foot, and either way it meshes well with TMNT.

Stick ‘em Up/the Roof Leaper (official name): From the manual: “Ignorant to the force of gravity this pesty (sic) sewer thug (the product of a horrible chemical spill) pounces about on ceiling pipes, waiting to rain terror from above.” Chemical spill created sewer mutants, now we’re talking. I love the implication that they’re immune to gravity because they don’t know about it.

Fire Freak (official name) and Clone: From the Manual: “An ex-pyromaniac from Brookyln, this hot dog takes careful aim before launching fireballs that turn into clones of himself.:” One assumes there was some mutagen involved in Fire Freak’s career change from pyromaniac to Foot Clan stooge. There’s something about “dude made of fire that throws other dudes made of fire at you” that’s very NES era, and I kinda want to see the new TMNT series have a go at updating this guy.

Mecaturtle (Official Name): From the Manual: “Appearing like your average turtle, this level 3 commander will show his true colors if you do him any harm.” They probably meant “Mechaturtle”, but the manual says “Mecaturtle” and so that’s his name. He’s basically the Terminator wearing an off-color Leonardo suit instead of the usual Austrianwear. Oh, and he’s got swords for hands and shoots missiles.

I have to wonder if Mecaturtle was a prototype for Metalhead and the other robo-turtles throught the series. The blue Leonardo with orange bands and pads disguise tempts me to figure customization.

Chansawiac: This guy is an enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in standard 80s video game logic. All we know for sure is he loves: 1) Chainsaws, 2) Waving chainsaws wildly while walking back and forth, 3) Purple pants with footies, probably not in that order. He seems to be wearing either a hockey mask, making him a lazy Leatherface/Jason mashup, or a fleshtone Iron Man helmet, which makes him my favorite SDCC cosplayer this year.

Divebombs: Krang saw the destructive power of a heat-seeking missile and said “That’s good, but can we make it slower and <urrrp> less effective?” His minions then come up with this, a nerf football missile with wings cribbed form a flying machine from Leonardo da Vinci’s notebooks. If you get near you, it dives at you like a suicidal hawk. I’d say this was a dumb idea for a weapon, but Krang’s minions literally have rocks in their heads, so I’ll grade on a curve and give this a B, mostly for creativity.

Rock Soldier: Maybe this golem-guy is supposed to be one of Krang’s rock soldiers? He crouches down into a “sleeping” position where he’s invulnerable only to get up and throw vague crescents of energy at you. Weirdly, there’s a badguy in the NES Wolverine game that had essentially the same shtick, so at least this guy kept working after the Foot let him and the rest of these guys go.

Spydrone: A basic flying robot spy that does damage on impact. Not much to write home about. Unless, of course, you’re a fan of the 1987 Jessica Tandy sci-fi/comedy Batteries Not Included.

Sky Prawn: Some kind of flying mutant bug or crustacean. They might be beetles, or shrimp with claws, or mosquitoes, but no matter what they are, they fly sideways and like to knock you out of the air while you’re making stupidly precise jumps.

Foot Balloon: Part of me really wants to think this was a toy concept that got abandoned. Its a balloon with a mechanical claw holding a bomb. It flies over you with its flapping wings (why?) and drops it, proving once again that the Foot are the leaders in the field of overly complicated explosive delivery systems.

Boomerang Bouncer: As a kid I thought this guy was a sort of sub-Bebop pig mutant, but now he looks more like Vin Diesel wearing red sweatpants and wraparound shades. He hops around like a jackass and throws boomerangs. In the 80s, Big Boomerang had an iron grip on the video game industry, so his inclusion was inevitable.

Wandering Eyes: They’re eyes with spider-legs, one of the most vulnerable parts of the human body, stripped of its meager defenses and let loose with nothing so much as a mouth. Look at how bloodshot they are. Every piece of dust they touch is burning agony. A normal spider would have been more dangerous but crawling eyes are more about psyching out the enemy than actually hurting them.

Unemployed Mutant Toad: The Turtles are doomed to run into mutant frogs or toads no matter where they go, and this game is no exception. They hop, they hit you with their tongues, pretty straightforward. Shredder hasn’t seen clear to give these guys clothing and they show no skills, martial arts or otherwise. If you squint, they might be tail-less chameleons, which is at least a bit more unique.

Big FleaKid: Big fleas have little fleas, Upon their backs to bite 'em, And little fleas have lesser fleas, and so, ad infinitum. Of the many, many enemies that hop in this game, this guy is my favorite. I love his blue colorscheme, his very humanoid-mutant bipedal design, the whole package. I imagine him as being a fast-talking swindler working for the Foot clan to make ends meet.

Wall Crawler: One of Krang’s robot minions, he only shows up toward the end of the game during the wall-crawling stages to crawl at you along the walls. You’d think a Ninja Turtles game would have used the climbable wall throughout the game, but you’d also expect them to make the Dam level playable by human beings. The NES TMNT game knows what its about, however, so neither one of those things happened.

Dimension X Trooper: Ok, Krang can be sensible! We have what is either a robot or a human in armor, decked out with a jetpack and a laser gun. He uses both at the same time, flying and shooting, and compared to some of his coworkers (I’m looking at you, Boomerang Bouncer) he’s an overachiever, if a little simply designed. He shows up in later stages as a general foe and a low-power miniboss.

Gunbot: He walks, he shoots, he’s like ED209, ET and Robocop had a baby. He’s not thrilling, but at least he mostly makes sense. He walks and shoots, doing the minimum required to get paid as a low-level video game flunky. This is why you’re never going to get promoted, Gunbot.

Whirly N.E.R.D. (Negligibly Effective Robot Drone): They take the place of Sky Prawns in later enemy sets. Essentially a robot scorpion with a helicopter blade attached to its tail in place of a stinger, removing the whole reason one would design a robot to look like a scorpion. If it is a robot, that is. TMNT for the NES doesn’t like you being able to tell the robots from the bugs, but this guy leans a bit more mechanical to my eye.

Dragon Knight: From this point on “mostly making sense” is not in the cards. This towering, probably robotic, warrior breathes fire and walks back and forth, which seems normal enough for a video game, unless you kill him by hitting his body. If you do that, his head will fly off, using the ears on the helmet as wings, and rush back and forth at high speed. I don’t know what raises more questions, him possibly being a robot designed to do this, or him being literally anything else.

Man-O-Bubbles: Ever since Metroid, flying jellyfish have been no surprise in video games. What is a surprise is when they explode into painful bubbles. Not when you kill them, just at random. While this could be a mutant, it seems more like something Krang would have smuggled in from Dimension X.

Kangosaurus-Bot V.4: Ok, so we’ve got a vaguely-Hadrosaurid robot dinosaur or possibly a kangaroo. With no arms. Who fights by jumping around and attacking with its tail. This is obviously one of Krang’s, but what is the goal here? Is this a robot version of some Dimension-X native animal? Is Krang really into Dougal Dixon? Were the comical arms with boxing gloves not ready by the time the Turtles breach the Technodrome? NES TMNT, give me your secrets!

Rock-Roc: This thing is either a hawk that has been trained to drop boulders larger than itself on talking humanoid turtles, or ti is a ROBOT hawk DESIGNED to drop boulders larger than itself on talking humanoid turtles. And its probably the latter, because it doesn’t show up until around the same time the Technodrome does.

Spidrobyte-Men: We’re taken a triolobyte, a spider, and a person and combined them via the power of the ooze and we get these things. They slide up and down on web-lines from their asses, occasionally spitting bubbles that hurt. I’m betting because of digestive acid. Then again, I can’t even understand this things physiology, and it could just as equally be a mechanical claw on a tow-line that spits painful bubbles and hang out in caves.

Pill Thug: Ok, this guy is my favorite, so I saved him for last. He’s a pill bug/rolly polly, mutated into a sort of pint-sized Megalon with a dancer’s physique, who either has a really big chin or hings his head open at the mid-section to spit pink tadpoles at our heroes. When not on the attack he rolls around in a ball. Everything about this guy is wacky and fun, and with a little more color and a splash of job-related theme, he could be a serviceable mutant foe for the Turtles in the larger franchise.

I think I hit everything, minus some of the over-world Foot Vehicles and some basic wall turrets and things, but I have may have missed a few while playing to get screencaps, what with the cursing and all. Even cheating there’s enough one-hit kills to keep things challenging.

EDIT: I missed two dudes!

The Goo Crew: This melty-looking dude who might be a foot soldier splits into tinier guys when you hit them, and those tinier guys turn into two even smaller guys when hit. I’ve decided he’s a slime creature that splits when hit, and all of his few in-game appearances are subdivisions of a larger whole. Maybe he’s a human foot soldier mutated with a slime mold.

I missed him the first time through because he’s rare and the places where you do find him he can disappear off the screen edge easily, only to be replaced by one of those shifty unemployed toads when you come back to the area.

Spiny Anthony: I know most people think he’s a porcupine, but his down-turned snoot says “echidna.” He jumps around in your personal space while occasionally shooting spikes out of his back like porcupines, hedgehogs and echidna’s all don’t. Like the other newly-minted mutants from this game, he doesn’t get clothes, so its hard to tell if he’s supposed to be a fully sapient mutanimal or just a beast, but I lean toward character whenever possible, so Spiny Anthony the Spiny Anteater is on the scene.

Spiny Anthony and Big FleaKid are already teaming up to pull some scams on the tourists

#TMNT #ninja turtles #NES #ninetendo #Teenage Mutant ninja turtles #8-bit gaming #sprites

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