#//anyways. i am trying to lure myself back into writing by letting the soft animal of my body love what it loves or something

[writedisaster]

you'd think that the biggest silmhead* among my muses would be the middle-aged librarian, but you'd be wrong. It's the dubiously 20-something sideshow crust punk.

*silmhead, (n.) - an enjoyer of Tolkien's Silmarillion, esp. one whose enthusiasm verges on the rabid and/or encyclopedic

[creepy-bi-day]

May we have some soft habit?

Hi guys! I wanted to do this ask really bad because like.

This has been a really shit year so far guys. So this is more venting and coping for me so I really appreciate the ask.

So ah, to cope, I’m going to drown myself in writing and try to distract myself like a normal human being I guess.

Warnings: mentions of death, depressive thoughts, hurt/comfort, cussing

@fekst-fucker @just-a-creep-babe

 @the-acolytes-collection @fuck-mcgee

Natural Process

 You stared down at your phone, blinking away the fogginess that settled in your vision. A shaky breath made its way out of your lips as you felt your chest tighten.

Oh didn’t this year just keep getting better and better.

First, you had to get involved with Jeff and Vinnie. Secondly, one of your closest friends ended up possessed by a demonic entity that seemed to take an interest in you. A virus was spreading all over the world? Then you ended up disowned.

Now?

Now your childhood dog was dead.

Seems that your parents only bother telling you bad news now.

You dropped the electronic from your hands and curled up on the couch, laying on your side and facing the wall. You felt the tears start to stream down your (s/c) cheeks, but it didn’t really register.

Everything was numb.

Nothing mattered anymore, just the fact it felt like your world was crumbling around you. You choked on a sob as your chest tightened, the words settling in your mind.

We had to put him down.

We had to put him down.

We had to put him down.

It almost felt like a dream, in a way. You felt like you were floating. You felt like you’d wake up and it would  be January and everything would be fine. Everything would be the same as it was before.

You’d be loved. You’d have your dog with you, the little stubborn shithead.  You’d have your friends beside you. Jeff would be alive.

It would all be okay.

A breathy, choking noise made its way from your throat as you curled in on yourself tighter, trying to almost shield yourself from the pain you felt budding inside your stomach and chest as you realized it wouldn’t be okay.

It wouldn’t be okay ever again, because you were in the middle of it. You were the problem. You were the link that ended up killing everything close to you and cutting off the pieces that matter.

You started to spiral down into a darker and darker place as your mind wandered and your breathing quickened.

Why hadn’t he killed you yet. You, above all others, deserved it. You deserved to die.

You sat up, wiping the dripping fluid from your eyes as you took  a shaky breath.

You’d confront him about it when he got back. If the bastard didn’t answer?

You’d try to fight.

What else did you have, anyway? Your closest friends were either dead, possessed, or a fucking coward now. Your family didn’t give a damn about you. And your only solace was now dead.

You felt completely and utterly alone.

The sound of the door slamming open made you jump slightly, and you felt a fresh wave of tears flow from your eyes. You sucked in a deep breath and turned to walk toward the door, seeing the familiar form of Evan.

You knew it wasn’t him, though. That sadistic grin and the blood splattering his face told you that.

As soon as those blue eyes flecked with purple settled on your weary form, the smile became forced. His gaze swept over your form and you swear you saw him take a deep breath in. The evil grin became more of a grimace.

You sniffled, broadening your stance and crossing your arms as you tried to glare menacingly at the demon. You just knew it was more of an empty stare with narrowed eyes at this point.

“Why me?” were the only words out of your mouth. Habit dropped an axe onto the floor as he closed the door with his foot. He raised an eyebrow, smile now completely gone off his face.

“What?” was your response. Based on his posture, he expected you to bolt, so he leaned his broad frame against the door, crossing his arms in a similar stance to yours. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

You loved his response.

It made you feel something other than that pulsing emptiness. It made you feel angry.

You ground your teeth together as your glare sharpened and your arms uncrossed to hang at your sides. Clenching your fists, you took a step closer to him, and it further enraged you that his gaze simply swept up and down your form as he stood still.

He didn’t even see you as a threat.

“Why,” you seethed, hating that your voice was thick with tears and pain. “Why am I still fucking here? Why am I alive? Why haven’t you fucking grown a pair and killed me yet?”

By the end of the sentence, tears were streaming down your cheeks again as you shouted at the demon in front of you. You closed your eyes, feeling your anger ebb away as your body slumped forward.

“Why am I here? Out of fucking everyone I deserve to be killed like a fucking,” you choked, wanting to curl up again as the familiar pain began in your chest. “I deserve to be killed like a fucking animal. So, Habit, why haven’t you killed me?”

You looked up at him through your (h/c) locks, and, had you been in any mood other than your current state, you’d laugh at the shocked expression he wore. You knew it was still Habit, not Evan, due to the deep purple flecks decorating his ocean eyes.

He quickly blinked away the confusion, clearing his throat as he pushed himself off the door. Jaw setting in what appeared to be determination, you felt your chest swell.

He was going to kill you.

You weren’t going to hurt anymore.

His hand wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you closer, an annoyed noise working its way out of his throat as he did so. He glanced around, seemingly looking for anyone before his gaze settled on the unnerving creature holding a camera.

Habit bared his teeth in a snarl and let out a guttural growl as he looked at the thing, causing it to scurry away.

You couldn’t care less. All you knew was that you were about to be put out of your misery. You didn’t care what he did so long as it ended in your death.

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” He all but snarled at you, glaring at your tear stained face. “What the fucking shit do you even mean? Why are you so fucking,” he leaned forward, burying his face in your neck as he inhaled deeply. He paused for a moment. “What happened.”

It wasn’t a question. His voice had all but lost the dual tone you had grown used to, luring you into a sense of security you didn’t want to be in. You didn’t want him to be the person you vented at nor did you want to trust this demonic thing that was controlling your friend.

When you didn’t answer, Habit growled out a sound of annoyance, effortlessly bending to wrap his arms around your legs and pick you up. A startled cry left your lips as you fell forward onto his shoulder, gripping the material of his clothed back to steady yourself.

Habit began to walk towards the stairs, taking you with him as he climbed them and soon stood in the familiar bedroom he had claimed.

He unceremoniously tossed you onto the bed as he closed the door. You felt your eyes widen and your heart speed up in terror as your mind raced to conclusions.

The sound of Habit scoffing under his breath calmed you slightly, even if the glare he sent your way unnerved you.

“I’m not that much of a fucking monster,” he said through bared teeth. He locked the door with a deft motion and stood in front of you as you sat up on the edge of the bed. Crossing his arms, he looked down at you expectantly. “Now, where is this coming from, bunny?”

You couldn’t hold his gaze.

You knew, above almost everything, Habit hated cowardly actions. And the fact you wanted him to kill you because you were sad hit you like a train.

“I don’t- I don’t want to die,” you started, placing your arms in front of your stomach to almost keep the pain internal. “But I don’t want to- I don’t want to be alive either.”

A deep sigh escaped his nose as he rubbed the corners of his eyes. When he opened them, you noticed they were more purple than blue.

“I’m only going to fucking say this once,” he started, voice once again deep and dual toned as he bared his teeth at you. “You’re still alive because you’re special. I won’t kill you because you’re mine. And being mine means that you have to tell me this shit because obviously,” he uncrossed his arms to gesture at your cowering form. “Obviously you aren’t okay.”

His words seemed to break a dam you didn’t know you made as you let out a loud sob, curling around your stomach and letting out everything. You spilled and told him everything that happened and the fear and pain you felt on a daily basis. You told him how empty and alone you felt; you told him how empty you had begun to feel.

Somewhere in the middle of your rant, he had cut you off.

Habit sucked in a breath through his teeth, almost able to taste the fear and depression that covered the air. It was almost too much for him to be seeing you of all people like this.

The one human he actually liked.

He gently placed his hands on your shoulders, unfolding your body to lay back on the bed. When you started to question him, he cut you off with a warning growl.

He lifted your legs onto the mattress and took a step back, looking at your small form on the king sized bed. There would be a time to enjoy the view more, but now he knew he had to comfort his little mate, even if they didn’t realize that’s what they were.

Habit kicked off his shoes, taking off the blood stained shirt and laying down on top of your slightly shaking frame. He pressed himself into your form and buried his face in your neck, purring softly to try and calm you.

He gently placed his arms underneath your shoulders as he wrapped you into a form of a hug.

You were confused at this point, your tears slowing as you realized that the demonic being was trying to calm you down.

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, causing him to tense up and stop his soft noises. You froze, wondering if you did something wrong.

That is, until he relaxed completely in your arms, almost melting into the embrace, the soft purring noise louder than before as he tried to bury himself in your neck, both to keep track of your emotional state and to cover you in his scent.

“Tell anyone about this and I’ll rip your throat out, mate or not,” he grumbled, the echo of his tone doing nothing to hide the obvious drowsiness brought on by the embrace.

You couldn’t help the small smile that worked its way onto your face as you moved your hand to his hair.

Happy tears filled your vision now as you realized one important tidbit.

You weren’t alone anymore.

[cooltrainererika]

Alt-talia x Evillious Chronicles: The Key to Zorn (Part 1 v. 1)

Couldn’t come up with a better title. 

This is for Alternate Universe/AU, or Angst, it can qualify for both. 

Okay… so… holy hell. 

This is the longest fic I’ve ever written. And it isn’t even finished. 

I thought “Superbia” was long. But… I outdid myself. Over FORTY FREAKIN’ PAGES IN GOOGLE DOCS. And again, this is not finished, I’m splitting it so I at least have the hope of releasing something! With two routes! This is a novel, folks!

I’m probably going to repost this for the Christmas event since I want as much people to see them as possible. Because there are some Christmas elements here. So yeah, you can take this as an early Christmas fic too.

This will be a movie, folks. Grab a seat and some popcorn. 

Also, look, it’s goddamn Ludwig torment again! For the fourth time in the span of a month! And this might just be the most elaborate way I’ve tormented the poor guy yet. But I didn’t really have many options. 

So I wanted to enter Mirror Week, but in the main canons write in, Alt-talia and Hetalia Emblem, I haven’t come up with any use for 2Ps, and in the former case I can’t see how I could use them. 

However, there was one Alt-talia spin-off AU I had been thinking they would exist on; I didn’t know whether I wanted to release media to it so early, and due to a reason I will explain in a moment, I was reluctant to release media about it in general. But… I went with it. 

This is my Evillious Chronicles AU. Yes, an AU of an AU. What about that. 

Basically, the Evillious Chronicles is what started as a series of Vocaloid songs telling a much larger story; it has since ballooned into a vast, tangled network of light novels and other such media. It’s as confusing as it sounds. Some of you may have heard of the songs “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil”; those were the first songs to be released in that series. Those two songs weren’t self-contained, oh no. 

The thing is, for this AU I wanted to write just based on the seven sin songs (and Servant of Evil), with accompanying Hetaloid covers, and leave the rest of the story up to the audience. I’m still planning on that. However, I still wanted to enter the event, so here I am presenting a version of events for one of the arcs; however, it is merely the route that hews closest to Evillious canon from what I can gather of it. So yeah, NONE OF THIS IS HARD CANON. Especially since I wasn’t sure on the roles of some characters here. 

Also, if I somehow ever get to publishing my main Evillious x Hetalia fics sometime in the future; first of all, hi. But more importantly, please, I implore you, do not read this before reading The Muzzle of Ludwig. Especially the second half. I tried to avoid spoilers, but someone becomes extremely obvious with contextual clues. 

Also… it’s not like I wanted to write Ludwig torment again. But he was basically my only option, since he was the only one whose sin most likely overlaps with… well, it’ll become clear as this goes on. Ludwig’s story here is based on Nemesis Sudou’s story. Though since Nemesis and Ludwig are vastly different characters, there may be some plot holes, unfortunately. 

And THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: for those who have read none of my other works yet, Alt-talia has often vastly, vastly different characterizations. I based most of these characterizations off of their late 19th century to very early 20th century personalities in Alt-talia. Special OOC warning for the following characters: Austria, Hungary, and Prussia. Minor OOC warning for Germany. I used @askimperialludwig ‘s version of the character as a reference, along with my personal perception and research. may add more later. 

Also, credit to my friend @tomboyjessie13 , my Evillious consultant, for helping me through this!

I can’t let this be too long, since the fic is long already. Let’s go!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

(Also... people who read my fics, please reblog them. I work hard on them, and want many to see them!)

And since I forgot to add this above the cut; this canon is also one of the few times Nyotalia characters canonically exist as their own entity in my works, if not the only one so far. It’s kind of necessary, since otherwise it’ll turn into a complete sausagefest. However, as I have no set personality for them in main Alt-talia canon, I basically write them the same way as I would their male counterparts, with maybe some minor changes. I do have some ideas for Nyotalia characters in “what if” stories for main Alt-talia canon, but since this would be an Alt-talia spinoff, most of my theoretical audience would be there for the Alt-talia characters who appear in most Alt-talia media. Not to mention male stereotypes for countries are usually more fun anyway. However, in this universe two counterparts of the same character can co-exist. I try to avoid that though. 

Also, a character named “Arendt” is briefly mentioned; this is Brandenburg. He isn’t really that important though, and really I’ve barely fleshed him out, so that’s all you need to know.

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The Key To Zorn

In a certain continent, there was a forest.

A serene, peaceful forest, where inside one could almost feel mystical energy in the clear, unpolluted air.

Until, under the evening sky, a gunshot sounded.

Ludwig Beilschmidt, a boy of merely 8 with innocent, cornflower blue eyes, ran through the forest he knew so well, a basket of wild berries and herbs in his arms and a small sack over his back.

Soon, in his view, among the trees and wild cornflowers was the only place he had known all his life, the little wooden cottage he called home.

The boy immediately checked his old, somewhat rusted mailbox, a look of anxiousness on his face - one which immediately turned to disappointment upon finding there was nothing there.

He sighed.

“Nothing today either...”

He reached up somewhat, twisting the doorknob and opening the wooden door.

“I’m home!”

No one answered back.

As per usual.

He didn’t expect one anyway.

Ludwig went to the dining table, setting the basket and sack, as well as his small, old-model pistol, down on his side of the table. Inside the sack was a small rabbit; the poor little thing. He hoped it didn’t struggle for long after he had shot it.

He prepared dinner as he always did, the bubbling as the ingredients stewed the only sounds other than the cries of the wildlife outside.

And he ate in silence by the light of the lamp, staring at the empty, vacant other side of the table, the light of the sun dim and faint.

“Mutter, is it good?”

Nothing.

Ludwig sighed again, going back to shoving the stew into his mouth.

——-

Ludwig tucked himself into bed after a bath and a change of clothes, now in his old, almost too small pajamas, having finished the book in his hands an hour ago - while he had reread it and others several times already, it was a window into a world different from his, where friends supported each other and families told stories in front of the fire - but now that it was over, here he was, once again, stuck in loneliness, on his own, within the cold, dark walls of a small cabin.

Once again, it was quiet. All too quiet; except for the sounds of the forest.

Now as he had nothing to distract him, every rustling of the underbrush, every animal cry made him bristle. The forest was his comfort by day, almost a second mother, but by night, it was dark, feral. 

He pulled his blankets up to his face, curling up, shaking like a leaf. He felt any moment, a beast could break through the walls and tear him to shreds.

He missed his mother so much, oh how he missed her. Her harsh but protective voice, her calloused hands squeezing his wrists. He missed his onkel Arendt, who told him stories of the battles he and Mutter had been through.

She’s dead. She’s dead, accept it.

No, no she wasn’t.

She couldn’t be. She had to be alive.

She was too strong to die.

She would come back. She always came back. 

His mother wouldn’t want to see him like this anyway. He was being pathetic.

“Einz, zwei, drei...”

He took a deep breath. He was stronger than this. 

Imagining his mother was standing by his bed, staring at him with disapproval at his fearful behavior, finally his shivering started to lessen ever so slightly.

He needed to make it so that when she came home with another medal shining on her chest, she could come home to a son she could be proud of, after all.

“Good night.”

He said to no one in particular, as he let the faint moonlight be his comfort, finally closing his eyes.

Lu li la la lu li la la la...

A soothing, calming melody played in his mind; Ludwig didn’t know where he knew it from, but as it surrounded him in soft, almost familiar gentleness, the shivering stopped, his muscles loosened, and he was finally lured into the welcome embrace of sleep.

Lu li la la lu li la la la…

Lu li la la lu li la la la...

———-

“FIRE!”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Birds flew away in massive numbers, disturbed by the sudden noise.

Ludwig blew the steam off his pistol, seeing that the bullets had all landed near-target. Almost there.

Not bothered by the recoil anymore, he lined up the shot again, swearing he would get it right this time.

Every two days he did this, before 10 sets of running, marching, and every parallel bar routine; this wasn’t how most children his age passed their time, willingly anyway, if the books he read were any indication, and surely he felt sorry for the animals who had to hear such things, as they were the closest things to friends he had. But it broke the silence. 

And most of all, he could almost sense his mother beside him during these practice drills; he could feel her hands on his arms guiding him in his aim, and hear her voice shouting in tandem with him as he shouted “FIRE!”. In fact, sometimes he swore she actually was there, by his side.

He took a deep breath and aimed again.

“FIRE!”

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

When he came home, he once again saw a basket of supplies.

They always puzzled him. They came at such random, unpredictable intervals, filled with food, a few bottles of milk, several cartridges of bullets, and even occasionally a book, toy, bar of soap, or other extra, but by the time he found them no one was ever there.

He should be grateful. Though he wished someone would explain to him.

Oh well.

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

Days passed, then months.

Once again, on the night of his 9th birthday, Ludwig laid alone, the weak moonlight unable to brighten his gradually deepening pit of despair.

The silence was maddening. He craved for any touch, for any warmth of another person, for anything. But even that simple wish was too much to ask.

He bunched up the worn blanket, the cold, frigid winter air seeping into the cabin.

Every day, he wondered if he was slowly going mad. 

Holding a cornflower and his mother’s black cross necklace to his chest, looked out into the moon, to the night sky peeking from a clearing in the trees.

A star shot through the night sky, and Ludwig was quick to make his wish.

I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.

She had always told him that believing in such things was foolish.

But what was the pain in hanging onto the little light he could find?

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

Now’s your time.

Alright. I’m going in. See you. 

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

One cold, chilling day, towards the final days of the year he turned 9, Ludwig stepped outside to check his mailbox again.

Snow lightly dusted the ground, softly landing on his old, worn coat.

He had checked his homemade calendar; Sancbruma. Such a lovely holiday. But now, just yet another cold, freezing, lonely day. Oh well. He had known Pater Natalis wasn’t real for years to need confirmation.

But this day, after creaking the old thing open, he found something.

His heart almost stopped.

Immediately, he ripped the envelope often, his heart pounding in his ears, his breath quickening, and he immediately glued his focus to the words, written specially to be understandable to a child.

Ludwig Beilshmidt, we are sorry to inform you that…

Time seemed to stop. He swore his heart stopped.

Dread shot through his body like lightning.

He read on, clinging onto the little hope that still remained with him all those years as they escaped from him, flying away as he fell deeper.

…

…

Tears fell from his face.

She was gone. 

She was really gone.

Finally, suppressed despair replaced dread, filling every corner of his mind and body, every nerve, every muscle. 

But mixed with it, and eventually almost overpowering it in the concoction of emotion, was wrath. 

Pure, unbridled wrath.

He tore the paper and screamed, his screams piercing the serene forest air.

Tears fell from his eyes like a burst dam as he cried into his hands, cursing whoever had killed her, her fate, the cruelty of the gods.

If only he could get his hands on whatever bastard killed her, he would strangle them, he would gouge out their eyes, he would shoot them in the leg and watch them bleed to death, how dare they take his mother away!

He had always been told the best came to those who were patient.

He was proven wrong that day.

All those years, waiting, hoping, hoping for nothing.

Nothing. 

His mother was never going to come back. Ever. 

Grief, anger, and sadness gripped his small frame as he shook, on the ground, his young brain besieged with intense emotions and reality, dreaded, painful reality.

Don’t cry. How pathetic. Is that how I raised you?

Ludwig forced himself to take deep breaths, desperately fighting his tears and holding back the flow of the concoction of emotions any further. 

No, his mother wouldn’t want to see him like this. He couldn’t let her be honored like this.

“Einz, zwei, drei, einz, zwei, drei...”

He took a breath with every word, forcing his emotions back and attempting to lock them away, until finally once again he could think somewhat coherently.

It was here he noticed something wet poking his hand.

There was something in front of him.

A dog.

A medium-large dog with pointy, perky ears and snout; a magnificent, beautiful coal-black Fernirhund, its bright, intelligent eyes a rare violet. 

He didn’t notice it before in his panic, but now the dominant emotion in his mind was confusion.

As he sniffled, the dog nudged him again with its nose, looking up at him with its soulful eyes.

“...A dog?”

The dog stared at him back.

Ludwig’s mind immediately jumped back to the beginning of the year.

I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.

“Are… are you from my Mutter?”

Silence.

Immediately, he embraced the dog, making it yelp, crying into its fur.

“It’s adorable! I love it Mutter! Thank you!”

It let him cry into its fur, as the boy’s short arms wrapped around it in the first living thing it had embraced, nay, touched, in years.

He was actually holding something living. Oh, it had been so long. Oh so long.

He had almost forgotten what it felt like to hold life in his arms, to feel its warmth, to feel its gentle rising and falling, to hear the subtle sounds of another’s breath in his ears.

For the first time in years, despite the unforgiving cold of the winter morning air, warmth reached Ludwig’s heart, happiness brewing with and overpowering now subdued despair and rage.

<Sure… Whatever makes you happy, kid.>

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

“Oy vey… I was too late again.

...This world is fucked.”

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

Ludwig put a saucer of stew in front of the dog, which surely enough it soon started lapping up.

“It’s good right? What should I call you… I’ll have to give you a name.”

He stared at the dog, deep in thought.

“Oh, I know… Schwarzchen!”

The dog looked at him.

“You like it? Then Schwarzchen it is!”

<...I didn’t say anything. ’Blackie’? You cannot be serious.>

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

That night was different from usual.

Ludwig nestled his head in Schwarzchen’s fur, holding onto him like a stuffed animal, running his fingers through his soft coat. It had seemed reluctant at first, clearly not used to such close contact but as Ludwig begged it to stay, as if it understood him, it decided to stay with him. 

The dog’s breathing neutralized the deafening silence he had gotten so used to, its warmth protecting his small body from the frosty air.

It was like heaven.

Oh, he almost forgot something.

He took his mother’s necklace from his bedside table, putting it around the dog’s neck like a collar.

“There. Perfect. It suits you.”

He barked.

“Good night, Schwarzchen.”

That night, sleep came to Ludwig easier than usual, as he was surrounded by his new companion’s soft breathing and warm fur.

----------

“Hallo. Kid. Wake up.”

Ludwig awoke, his eyes fluttering open.

Once his eyes focused, he almost yelped in shock.

He was somewhere he didn’t recognize, some formless void; Schwarzchen was nowhere to be seen, nor were the walls of his cabin or even his forest, all that remained was his bed.

In front of him was a man clad in what seemed to be a long white lab coat and some type of mantle, or at least Ludwig assumed, his clothing style almost resembling that in illustrations in one of his novels, ostensibly chronicling ancient legends; but not just any man. 

A man who looked almost exactly like how one would imagine Ludwig would look like when he was older, save for his unnatural purple, almost magenta eyes that shined with a calculating glint, a scar under his left.

“H… hallo?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I… Who are you?”

The man smiled at him softly; despite his harsh features, it calmed some of Ludwig’s nerves, just a little.

“That isn’t important. But you’re lonely, right? And it’s causing you pain, yes?”

His voice was deep; much lower than Arendt’s, the only other reference he had for an adult man, surprising Ludwig a bit.

The boy nodded.

The man dug into one of his pockets, taking out a key.

“Here. I’ll be your friend; all you have to do is take the other end of this key, and you won’t feel any of that loneliness and pain any more…”

Tentatively, Ludwig took it.

The boy gasped as he suddenly felt something overwhelming and indescribable other than energy blitz between him and the strange man through the key; it was painless, in fact almost manic energy, bright lights flashing in his vision.

Ludwig woke up.

The boy laid there, his eyes wide, his mind mulling over what he had just seen.

“A dream… it was a dream… Who was that man?”

He turned, and there Schwarzchen was. 

“Never mind… Good morning, Schwarzchen.”

<Are you really going with that name?>

Ludwig blinked.

“...Did you just…”

<I thought children were supposed to be creative?>

Ludwig’s eyes widened. He held his head; it seemed to be coming from within his head, like a thought, instead of from his ears.

“...Schwarzchen? Is that you?”

<Yes, this is the dog. And I have a name.>

Ludwig took a few seconds to process the information.

“...What? ...Mein Gott, I’ve really gone crazy…”

<No. This is real. I’m speaking to you through something called telepathy. Speaking to you through your mind. I could explain all the intricate details but it would probably short-circuit your child brain.>

“I know what it is. But it’s just like in the stories! Wow! I didn’t know they really happened!”

<Well you could say that.>

Ludwig sat up on the side of his bed.

“You keep insulting my naming sense. So what is your name?”

“Schwarzchen” looked him directly in the eyes.

<Well, well, it’s the same as yours, funnily enough. Ludwig.>

“We have the same name? What a coincidence.”

 <But I know that is confusing. Just call me Lutz. That is what everyone calls me.>

“Alright… Lutz it is. ...I liked ‘Schwarzchen’ though.”

<...Whatever, kid.>

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

Like that, Ludwig and Lutz became friends. 

His 10th birthday had been the best birthday he had in years, even if it was just the two of them.

Over time, Lutz taught the boy how to use telepathy; and without him saying a word, he became a third hand to him.

...Sometimes. Other times, the dog merely yawned, telling him to “Do it on his own.”

Ludwig wondered if all dogs were like this. But even then, he didn’t mind. Even if Lutz was a cold, snarky jerk sometimes, it didn’t matter.

Every day, they ate together, went hunting together, bathed together, and at the end of the day slept together.

He could almost forget his loneliness, and the fact that his mother would never return.

Almost. 

——————

As Ludwig braced himself on his bed, he once again counted his breaths. 

The wrath he felt that day; it was coming back. From within, it seemed to spread to his entire body, to the point it was unbearable. 

He would never forget that pain. He couldn’t. But mindless rage was for the foolish. 

He wouldn’t forget. But he would remember, silently. 

When he looked to Lutz, Lutz didn’t seem afraid at all. He merely stared at him with those violet eyes. 

Ludwig embraced Lutz, not letting go. 

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

Lutz stared at the young boy as he slept, his chest rising and falling.

<How cute.>

It was easy.

A bit too easy.

What did he expect from a child though.

<Still, would have liked a bit more of a challenge.

Oh well. Sleep tight, kid.

...Though why do you have to use me as a pillow?>

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

Over the next year, Ludwig grew. Now on the cusp of puberty, he became stronger, he could run faster and further, and he could shoot with more and more accuracy.

On the morning of his 11th birthday, Lutz presented him with a query.

<Kid.>

“Huh? What is it, Lutz?”

<Now that you know that your mother isn’t coming home…>

Ludwig froze.

<Don’t cry on me.>

“I wasn’t going to���

<Yes, yes. In anyway, since you know you mother isn’t coming home, what’s the point staying in this place anymore?>

The boy pondered it.

<I’m a dog and even I think it’s pointless waiting for someone if they’re clearly dead. Well maybe I’m not the one to talk here.>

He was right.

“But… This is all I have ever known.”

<Don’t worry about it. You’re smart. I think. You should find out what to do soon enough.>

“...Jawohl. I don’t know what my purpose is being here forever too… It’s not like this place will disappear either. And it’s not what Mutter would want me to do. ...We’re leaving tonight.”

————-

Ludwig opened his drawer.

There it was; the notice he had torn up all those years ago. 

Why did he still have it? 

Just so he would never forget, probably.

Ludwig sealed the notice into a pouch before the rage became too much to bear, stuffing it into his bag, going to fetch his clothing. He had a sailor suit saved up for “special occasions”; he hoped he hadn’t outgrown it already. 

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

Ludwig looked behind his back one last time to the small cabin, the cornflowers, the trees he had known for his entire 11 years of living. 

It felt so odd to know he would be away from it. 

He quickly ran back, Lutz grumbling behind him, and picked a few flowers, pressing them between the pages of a book. 

<Are you done now?>

“Jawohl. Coming, coming!”

-----------

When Ludwig entered the capital, the little truly important belongings he had on his and Lutz’s backs, he was in awe.

It bustled with energy, with people, rickety, clanking automobiles and trolleys spewing steam or smoke that made him cough if he went to close, radio commercials resounding through the air, as well as delicious smells the likes of which he hadn’t known in years, some never before, but mixed in with the inexplicable smell of whatever was coming out of the automobiles. 

Ludwig wasn’t quite sure whether he liked it or disliked it, but most accurately he would describe it as a strange mix of the two; but more than anything, everything was so new.

He marveled at the sight of a trolley passing by, when he heard honking behind him. 

“Get out of the way brat!”

Ludwig stepped back, hopping back to the sidewalk, and an automobile clunked on, its driver looking at him irritated.

But its movements fascinated him, how the machine seemed to move magically, how it seemed to have a life of its own.

“...Where should I even start?”

<Well? Do you have any relatives?>

“Not that I know of.”

Lutz pointed in the direction of some other children, in a way much like how a pointer or setter dog would.

<You could try living on the streets like them for a few days. See where it gets you.>

“...Oh.”

Ludwig sighed. He may as well. 

————-

“Shoo! Shoo!”

“No money? We aren’t a charity, sorry.”

“Outta the way!”

————-

Ludwig slept in an alley that night, huddled in his old blanket, snuggling against Lutz, who had gotten used to the close contact years ago. 

He was so tired. He just remembered he hadn’t slept for an entire day, and it was finally catching up to him. 

He had gotten some attention due to being cleaner-looking than the rest, though Lutz was far more charming in their eyes. But more often than not, the overwhelming message in the air was clear; he wasn’t welcome here. 

“Lutz?”

Lutz looked up. 

<What is it, kid?>

“Why didn’t you tell me I needed money for everything?”

<Didn’t you read about it?>

“I didn’t know it was this necessary.”

<I can’t hold your hand all the time.>

“...Lutz?”

<...What now?>

“There’s so many people here. But I still feel so alone.”

<Well at least you got some to get through the night. Don’t be choosy.>

“Jawohl… Good night.”

————

Seeing no reason not to, Ludwig had decided to explore the city a bit more the next morning, after having helped himself and Lutz to a piece of bread and some beef jerky he had bought, plus the miscellaneous items he had been given the day before.  

After a long while of walking, taking in the different sights, from the historical landmarks and building to new projects, some even in the midst of being built, neatly separated or together, working in at times harmonious and at times chaotic tandem. Every so often he saw stray animals run about. After some time he started to see schoolchildren, some about his age, run to school with their friends, adults dressed in suits on their way to work. 

Until, Ludwig started to feel the air change. 

It felt somewhat... sticky? The breeze seemed stronger. And inexplicably salty. 

For he had reached the city harbor. Birds, they were called seagulls he believed, cawed above. Fishermen had far since left the dock, and in the distance, trade ships were being loaded to go who knows where. And they were floating on a vast, open field of water, water, nothing but water.

“Lutz... is this...”

<The ocean? What, you don’t even know what the ocean is?>

He had heard his mother’s stories about the ocean; while she had never been a woman of the seas per se, she was in the army, not the navy after all, he had heard her describe growing up near it. It was odd thinking that she, too, had been a child once like him.

This ocean was to her like the forest was to him, quite possibly.

She had also spoken about a rumor; a rumor that a wish put into a bottle and cast into the sea would, eventually, be granted. She had dismissed it as childish of course. And she did say that she much preferred the land after growing up.

Though according to Onkel Arendt, she would at times, despite this, just go to her childhood home, staring out into the eternal ocean.  

He wondered what she had thought as her red eyes stared out into the distant horizon, the salty breeze flowing through her silver-white hair.

It was strange, imagining his mother like that. The sea was so free, almost careless; the complete opposite of her. But maybe that was exactly what drew her to it.

Ludwig started running along the dock, letting Lutz chase him, the briny wind rushing past him and through his hair. People had started to come to swim, and the city was starting to fully come to life. 

Even if life was hard, at least he had some way of entertaining himself when everything was so brand new. 

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

One day, a duo of teenagers spotted Ludwig.

And being the thugs they were, Ludwig suddenly found himself in confrontation with two kids much larger, older, and stronger than he; even if Ludwig was tougher than most 11-year-olds, these two seemed to be about 14 at least, if not, and probably, 15.

“Hey street rat, where’s your mutti?!”

Ludwig tried not to pay them any heed, even if he bristled at the rude words. 

“...What business do you have with me?”

The shorter one grabbed him by the collar. 

“I asked you a question, shorty!”

After the initial shock and fear, Ludwig felt a flash of anger. His fists clenched as he tried to struggle his way out. And worst of all was that he couldn’t do anything. 

<Kid. Listen.>

“What?!”

<Listen to me. Tell me to “Intimidate”. Now. Don’t ask questions.>

“Of course! ...Intimidate, Lutz!”

————-

Ludwig stood there, dumbfounded at what he had just witnessed, as the teenagers ran away, screaming “DEMON DOG! DEMON DOG!”.

And there Lutz was, looking terribly bored, as if nothing had happened. 

“How… how…”

<I’m a Very Amazing Dog, you could say.>

————

A week passed; Ludwig counted, as he always valued timekeeping, no matter what. The other street children left him alone, eyeing him strangely. Occasionally, he heard extortionists threatening some unfortunate soul. 

That was when, however, Lutz told him something vital. 

<Hey. Have you ever considered asking the police if you have any relatives?>

Ludwig looked at the dog, puzzled.

“What?”

Lutz pointed at a building.

<There. It says “POLIZEI”. Can’t you read?>

“...Why? Won’t they throw me in jail or something?”

<Actually they have records too. They might have your mother’s family on file.> 

Lutz looked up to see Ludwig’s dumbfounded face staring back at him. 

“...Why didn’t you tell me that, you mutt?!”

<Thought it would be interesting to observe you. Also don’t be too loud. Everyone will think you’re a crazy person. 

Ludwig took a look around, and indeed there were some passerbys staring at him. 

Ludwig loudly sighed, his palm on his face. 

“...Fine. Thanks anyway.”

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

“Your name?”

“Ludwig Beilshmidt.”

The officers looked at him for a few seconds.

“...As in Julia Beilshmidt? General Julia Beilshmidt?”

“Jawohl.”

They were in shock.

“...Excuse me? Is something wrong?”

“Erm… We apologize. Ja.”

“Do I have any relatives? I need some place to stay.”

“...Ja. We will search immediately. Please wait here. But it may take a while.”

————-

“Hallo? Is this the police? Why must you be calling?”

“Well, you see, sir… It appears that a relative of yours has suddenly shown up out of nowhere. ...He claims to be Beilshmidt’s son.”

“...Mein Gott. Julchen did say she had a son… I knew she wasn’t the type who should be able to take care of a child. I will be there as soon as I can.”

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

<This is boring.>

“I know, Lutz. Shut up.”

Lutz yawned.

“He should be here soon-”

It was then that the door to the police station opened with just enough force to be noticeable without slamming. 

Standing there was a dark brown-haired gentleman with a large, curly cowlick, probably in his thirties, most likely affluent from his clothing.

“Excuse me, I hear there was someone waiting for me here?”

Ludwig stood up, and their eyes met.

“Hallo. ...You are Ludwig?”

He adjusted his glasses, then his tie.

“Ja?”

He looked him over.

“Ah, I can see some of the resemblance. Though you’re actually somewhat adorable, unlike her.”

“...Is that an insult against her?”

Realizing his mistake, the man cleared his throat.

“Ah, sorry.”

He outstretched his hand.

“I am Herr Roderich Edelmann. Your mother’s cousin. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you, but it is nice being able to see you with my own two eyes.”

Ludwig took the hand, shaking it. 

“Ludwig Beilshmidt. Nice to meet you, Sir.”

Then, suddenly, Roderich’s formal facade dropped and he pulled the boy into a hug.

“You’re so precious! You may call me Onkel Roderich! Don’t worry, we will take great care of you!”

Lutz looked on in amusement as Ludwig’s cries of shock became muffled in the man’s chest. 

Ludwig was flabbergasted. It had been so long since he had been hugged. He only could relive them in his memories, and they weren’t frequent, but here he was, feeling it yet again, surrounded by warmth; he didn’t know how to process it. 

But if there was one emotion he was certain about as the man smoothed his hair and cooed over him, it was that he felt loved.

————-

Ludwig held on tightly as the automobile rocked around them. Roderich didn’t seem to mind it whatsoever, but Ludwig had only heard of an automobile once, and had seen, much less ridden, none. Roderich was happy to make him comfortable next to him though, warning him whenever a bump or “pothole” was coming up. 

“I forgot to ask… what is that dog doing with you? A purebred Fenrir no less?”

Lutz was lazily sprawled out in the back seat behind them, his ears pricking somewhat at the mention of him. 

“Oh, that’s Lutz.”

“...Lutz? As in…”

“Jawohl.”

Roderich looked puzzled. 

“Erm… Mutter named him.”

Roderich huffed.

“Ah, Julchen, of course…”

“He was my last Sancbruma present from her before she died.”

Roderich quieted for a few seconds.

“Oh… I see. We will accommodate him too. Do not worry. ...Also, no need to ‘jawohl’ around me.”

“Jawo… ja.”

—————

Onkel Roderich was a renowned musician; he was a master of many instruments and even knew how to compose, but his main forte was the piano. He was sought after for his talents across the land.  

And he had the house to show it as well. 

“Welcome to your new home, Ludwig.”

Ludwig took it all in; the house was already larger than average compared to others in town, and as a boy who had grown up in a small log cabin all his life, it seemed especially enormous. 

A woman with long, light brown hair came up to them, looking from Roderich to Ludwig. 

“Ah, Erzsébet! This is my nephew, Ludwig. He will be staying with us from now on.”

Roderich bent his knees so he was at Ludwig’s level. 

“Ludwig, this is Erzsébet, my wife.”

“H… hallo. Nice to meet you, Tante Erzsébet.”

Ludwig outstretched his hand. 

The woman merely eyed him for a few seconds.

“Hallo. I guess.”

She said, gruffly, with a distinctly foreign accent.

Roderich sighed. 

“Erzsébet, why do you have to be like this?”

“Why do we have to take in this ratty-looking kid?”

Ludwig scowled. 

“Hey!”

Roderich held Ludwig closer, glaring at her. 

“Erzsébet! He’s a child! Have you no heart?!”

“Fine, fine.”

She shook his hand, roughly. 

“But the dog is cute though. And wow, a Fenrir?! Hallo, come here!”

Lutz merely yawned. 

Ludwig couldn’t help but snicker as an unamused frown crept across Erzsébet’s face. 

“...Whatever. Make yourself at home I guess.”

She walked off. 

“Prepare the bath and extra room for the boy! Come on now!”

Roderich commanded, and soon after servants bowed and quickly ran upstairs in single file. 

“Don’t mind my wife. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic to hear from you. But she will warm up to you eventually. Though… you are in need of new clothes, aren’t you?”

He gave the boy a once-over, making Ludwig look down to his old, beaten-up and washed out child-sized military uniform. 

“Sadly, we do not have any clothes your size as of now. I will have a servant hire the tailor immediately. Meanwhile I will order them to wash what you have now.”

<He’s awfully happy to see you, isn’t he?>

“Ja… he seems like a nice person.”

————

That might, Ludwig had the best dinner he had ever had. 

He could only marvel at the dishes in front of him; even those he had heard of before looked so refined. And there was so much of it! The variety of bread available was amazing.

But he couldn’t let himself forget his discipline. Even if it took all his willpower not to start gorging himself on everything like he had been possessed by some demon of gluttony. 

“Onkel, what is this?”

“A chocolate torte, you see. A type of cake.”

Ludwig remembered actually having a cake a grand total of once. He still remembered its sweetness so well and it was probably the best thing he ever had eaten. And then there were two other things he had only read about before. 

...And Lutz seemed unusually interested in it.

He couldn’t blame him though, it’s aroma was mesmerizing to Ludwig’s senses.

“Chocolate? Is that what the brown is?”

“You have never had chocolate before?! Mein Gott, Julchen, What have you done?”

Ludwig was quick to take a bite, and he froze. 

The mellow, deep sweetness melted on his tongue, spreading throughout his mouth in such an indescribably perfect way, a tinge of bitterness within that instead of detracting from the experience, somehow harmonized with the sweetness in such a heavenly way. 

“...Ludwig?”

“...It’s amazing.”

Roderich seemed somewhat amused by how floored the boy was. 

“Even your mother was quite a fan.”

<Hey, hey. Kid.>

Ludwig was surprised by the unusual agitation in Lutz’s thoughts. He didn’t think he had ever heard anything like it before. 

“Lutz? What is-“

<I need it. Now. Don’t ask questions!>

Ludwig almost panicked, giving a piece to the impatient dog. 

“Ludwig!”

“I… erm… It was unfair to have it to myself!”

“...Wasn’t chocolate poisonous to dogs?”

Erzsébet questioned. 

“Wait wha-“

<Don’t worry. ... Ahh, bliss...>

Ludwig smiled nervously. 

“He’ll be fine.”

The couple just stared, confused. 

“Erm…”

“Trust me! I know him well. ...Can I have more? Please?”

“Absolutely.”

His face absolutely lit up at that, and in the corner of his vision Ludwig saw quite possibly the most genuine expression of joy he had seen from Lutz in all the time he knew him. 

“Why’s it that everyone in your family loves chocolate so much?”

Erzsébet asked as her husband took another piece. 

“Why don’t you is the better question.”

“...Actually, yup, you two definitely are related. Leave some for me though!”

————

Roderich doted on the boy; he made sure he had the nicest clothes and the nicest food that he could afford. 

He had made sure the room was in absolute best condition, that his pillows were always fluffed and bed always made, even if Ludwig insisted he wanted to do it on his own. 

He taught him everything about the basics of civilization, how to read more complex sentences, how to play the piano and the violin, even how to dance. He took him with him to work, across the city and sometimes even country to places he had at best read about and to meet so many new people.

His next Sanctbruma and 12th birthday were the most extravagant he had ever had. 

Yet…

Yet something was missing. 

Despite the man’s kindness, he felt something wasn’t right. Ludwig couldn’t put a finger on what, and he felt awful about it to be sure; he did so much for him, what more could a boy ask for?

But yet…

Sure, Erzsébet never completely warmed up to him; even if she wasn’t as cold to him, according to Lutz she was merely tolerating him. And the same was true for many of the servants. 

But that didn’t change the fact that Roderich himself was nothing but loving towards him. Even if he had curfews and other such rules, he never had trouble with rules. His mother raised him to obey rules. And while he was often busy, he still tried his best to spend time with him.

Finally, he actually had someone who resembled a parent after all those years. He should have been thankful. 

But he wasn’t doing anything wrong. 

Someone had to be doing something wrong. 

At times, he still lay awake at night, those lonely days and nights and that fateful Sanctbruma playing back in his mind; as well as the accompanying emotions of pure hatred and wrath. 

Once, Roderich has entered the room at an inopportune time to Ludwig curled up in his bed, seething, growling at him to leave him alone. 

While he didn’t say anything about it at dinner, it was obvious he was disturbed by it. 

“...Lutz. Why can’t I be happy? I still feel alone, but I don’t even know why.”

<Maybe you’ve been alone for too long. You’re past the point of return, kid. Maybe you should come to peace with it.>

“At least I have you.”

<Whatever.>

———

“Ludwig.”

“Ja, Onkel Roderich?”

The man sighed.

“It has been over a year since you started living with us. What is it with your standoffish behavior? Is something wrong? I will listen to it.”

“...I just can’t, Onkel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I… Something just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know why.”

The man looked so disappointed.

“I try my best to make you happy, Ludwig. I really do. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to satisfy your needs.”

“Nein. It isn’t that.”

Roderich shook his head.

“As I was saying… the chords for this piece are…”

—————

Ludwig continued to do his practice drills whenever possible, even if they had taken a different shape; makeshift targets became proper shooting galleries, improvised exercises became possible using an open space between buildings and proper equipment. And as he grew more and more by the day, his physical abilities took leaps and bounds above what he had been capable of before. He just wished he could go more than weekly. At first, Roderich objected, but it didn’t take long for him to cave in. 

After all, he had to keep himself in shape, especially as he now had access to all the candy and chocolate that could be plausibly afforded. 

After a while, Roderich started to continuously try to ask him to consider other options in this weekly time slot. He was never too forceful, however. And after a while, as Ludwig expressed his clear annoyance, it finally ceased just as it had begun. 

There was another episode that irked Ludwig.

One night, as he went to get a glass of water, he had seen Roderich, seemingly sneaking away from his room. 

“...Onkel?”

The man bristled as soon as he turned on the lights. 

“Erm… Ludwig, I didn’t expect you to be awake..

Then, Ludwig saw it. 

In his hands was his mother’s necklace. 

“...What are you doing with Mutter’s necklace?”

He immediately stuffed it inside his pocket and turned around, a fake smile on his face. 

“What necklace, my dear Ludwig?”

“I know you’re hiding it.”

The man sighed, taking it back out again. 

“I… I wanted to put it in a place it will be safer in.”

Ludwig tried not to grill him further, even as he felt something fueled by doubt start to boil within him. 

“I’m sure it will be safe with me. It’s been so for all the years I’ve had it. Can I have it back now?”

“...Ja.”

Ludwig swiftly took it back, going down to get his glass. He really needed one. 

“You could tell a servant to get it for you?”

“No. I prefer to do it on my own.”

When Ludwig had returned to his room, he had quite the things to say to Lutz. 

“Lutz. Why did you let him take it?”

<I was sleepy, kid. Why do you care about that thing so much?>

“It’s from Mutter. You should know. ...Lutz. If anything, protect this with your life.”

<Oh come on now.>

“I’m serious. It’ll be the last thing I ask of you.”

<Alright, alright. Whatever.>

“You aren’t sincere, are you?”

<What do you want from me? Good night.>

——————

One day, as Ludwig overheard some servants speaking to each other in hushed voices, glancing at him every so often. 

He was able to catch two things; “Miss Erzsébet” and “barren”.

He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. But for whatever reason he didn’t like the sound of it. 

That night, after some shouting, once again Roderich stormed out of the master bedroom, telling Erzsébet to “Get a hold of yourself already, you indecipherable woman!”, to his own separate room, as Erzsébet shouted some words back that sounded really angry and probably inappropriate. 

<There goes the lovely couple.>

Lutz thought, as Ludwig tried to sleep. Lutz, meanwhile, had no trouble. 

————

13-year-old Ludwig stood outside of the bar, alongside Lutz, as always, and other members of his gang. 

It was in a seedy, rough part of town. And it was where their rival gang frequented most often. 

It wasn’t the most well-to-do of bars, to say the least; as soon as they entered, the air smelt pungently of alcohol, and ambiently of various nasties. 

<Ergh. Try coming here as a dog.>

They immediately saw their target; the offending gang’s leader. 

Their leader went up to confront her rival, fists clearly ready to fly. 

“Hey! We know ya killed him!”

“Who?”

The rival boss said, with a cheeky grin. 

“Ya know who!”

The two continued to escalate their argument, until they became close to blows.

“Enough yammerin’! Get ‘em, boys n’ girls!”

Suddenly, they were grabbed by the rival gang bangers, including Ludwig, who held back a yelp. 

“We didn’t kill one of yer ratpack, asshole! Now get out or we’re gonna force ya out!”

“...You better tell us.”

Ludwig said, tersely, utilizing his now lowering voice and copying his mother’s tone. 

The rival boss laughed.

“Or what, kid? What are ya gonna do, huh? Man your recruiting standards have gone down!”

His boss smirked. 

“Ya better listen to the kid.”

“Or what?”

They laughed uproariously. 

“Lutz. Restrain.”

Their laughing instantly stopped, their faces going sheet white, all the other bar patrons, the bartender, and staff turning to gawk. 

For they bore witness to the gang boss being pinned down, on the floor, between the claws of a giant, terrifying hellhound, its eyes glowing, its fangs bared, its breath in the unfortunate gangster’s terrified face. 

Ludwig walked up to the rival boss with measured steps, the gangsters holding him having let go out of sheer terror, the thumping of his feet the only sounds other than his companion’s breathing and the squeaks and sputtering from bystanders and rival gangsters, and pulled out his old pistol, aiming it at the thug’s head, glaring daggers so sharp that they could gouge eyes out. 

Show your enemy no mercy.

Once again, he thought he felt his mother voice in his ear. 

“Tell us the truth.”

The rival boss sputtered, shaking like a leaf, looking awfully smaller than the much younger boy. 

“We… we… d-d-di…”

Ludwig cocked his pistol.

“Speak in a real language!”

The rival boss flinched, and the rest of the rival gang huddled, terrified. 

“W-we didn’t do anything! I-I swear! I swear!”

Ludwig lowered his pistol slightly. 

“...Really?”

“J-ja! I swear! I swear by both the Heavenly and Hellish Yards! P-p-please let me go, Sir!”

“...Alright. Lutz, release.”

The dog shrank back down to size, returning to his original, fluffy, cute self. 

His boss grumbled. 

“Whoop. That was pointless. Lud, let’s get outta this dump.”

They turned to leave, the other people in the bar still staring at them. 

“W-Wait.”

Ludwig and his boss turned back to the humiliated rival boss. 

“We might’ve not killed ‘im. But I-I have a good idea who might’ve.”

———-

“So, Lud. Good job today. We’ve got ourselves a lead.”

“Jawohl.”

Their boss patted Ludwig on the head and gave the group a once-over. 

“Ok. You’re all dismissed.”

Ludwig was quick to leave, the others staring after him.

“What’s it with him? I swear, it’s like he doesn’t wanna be associated with us.”

“He said something about a curfew.”

“Really? Kid still follows curfews? What is he, 10?”

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

When Ludwig came back, Roderich was waiting for him. 

“Ludwig.”

“Onkel Roderich?”

Roderich’s expression was serious and stern. 

“...What have you been doing?”

“What do you mean, Onkel Roderich?”

Roderich held Ludwig’s shoulders. 

“Let me state this plainly.”

He took a deep breath. 

“You’re involved in gang activity, aren’t you?”

 Ludwig was in shock.

“How…”

Roderich shook his head, his hand on his forehead. 

“Ludwig. I am sure even Julchen taught you to obey rules.”

“I… I don’t want to depend on you for everything. I feel like a leech.”

Roderich was shocked.

“You’re only 13, Ludwig! It is alright! It isn’t worth putting yourself at risk like this!”

“I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Roderich shook his head.

“Don’t say that. You could deliver newspapers, or use those piano skills I taught you-“

“And they’re my friends.”

“Friends?! I care for you, why do you need them?! Do you even know any of their names?!”

“...” 

“You’re going to get into trouble eventually, young man.”

“I… I know!”

Roderich flinched. 

Ludwig looked down and stormed back into the house, Lutz running behind him, into his room, throwing himself onto his bed. 

“Hmph, teenagers...”

Erzsébet mumbled. 

—————-

“Ludwig?”

Roderich opened the door to Ludwig’s room that night, peeking in.

Ludwig couldn’t bare to look him in the eye. 

“I’m sorry.”

Roderich sighed.

“Is it because I’m not Julchen?”

The boy felt a pang of guilt. 

“I’m sorry! I don’t hate you, I’m thankful for what you’ve done, and-”

“I see. Just try to forget about her, alright?”

Ludwig froze. He felt like someone had stabbed his heart. 

“But…”

“I do so much for you. I give you everything. What was it that she had that I don’t? I’ve been a far better parent than that stone-hearted, cruel, cold-”

<Oh no. You’ve done it now.>

“DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT MY MUTTER!”

His voice cracked terribly, but he didn’t care. 

Roderich stumbled back, his face pale, horrified. 

Silence. 

“Ludwig… I’m sorry.”

Ludwig buried his face into his pillows. 

“...I’ll tell the servants to bring you dinner. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Leave me alone!”

“...I’m happy with any path you want to take. Just please stay safe.”

Roderich sighed and closed the door. 

From that day on, Roderich started informing Ludwig of where police may find him, and locations of stations across the city. Anything for his safety, he had said. 

But from that day on Ludwig knew; he knew that his suspicions were true, that all this time he was trying to make him forget about his mother. He couldn’t let that happen. It was only confirmation when he heard him brutally disparage her one night in a drunken stupor during one of his binge-drinking sessions.

Once again, Ludwig could trust no one.

And once again, wrath simmered within him.

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

Their boss summoned Ludwig and the rest of the gang to a gathering; to sort out their clues, they had said. 

Ludwig was appreciated for his abilities; but outside of the action, he sat somewhat removed from the rest. He couldn’t connect with them much either. 

His mother had despised lawbreakers; “scum”, “rats”, she would call them. If she knew what he was doing now, she would have caned his palms until they were raw and bleeding. She would have told him he was better than this. He never would have imagined he could stoop this low too. After all, he was his mother’s only son. He should have been destined for greatness.

Quite honestly, he didn’t fully understand what he was doing here either. How did he even get here? Was it just a business affair? Were they really his friends? 

Maybe it was because this was the closest thing to military service he could find. Even if it were on the other side of the law. 

A girl a year or so older than him, the second youngest in the gang, came up to him attempting to speak to him. Ludwig hesitated, but in the end continued to be fascinated with the clues they had and Lutz. 

“Hey give up on Herr Stick-In-The-Mud already! Bet he’s never even kissed a girl!”

A gangster said, using the nickname they often used when ribbing him.

“What’s with him? He to good for us?” One of them muttered when Ludwig refused a drink.  

“Ja. Imagine being one of us and caring about drinking ages. Never can understand Herr Stick-In-The-Mud.”

“Ja. Where was he raised, His Majesty’s Elite Imperial Barracks?”

“Hey, hey, did you hear that Boss might have the hots for him too?”

“Why don’t you fuckwits shut the fuck up?” Their boss barked at the last one. “The kid’s basically an infant!”

<You’re the most rule-bound gangster I’ve ever seen.>

“Why do they treat it as a bad thing?”

<You’re the one who joined a street gang, genius. They’ve got different rules.>

Ludwig looked at the bottle of cheap moonshine he had been offered again, sighed, and took a gulp. 

He immediately gagged. 

The last time he’d had booze was when Roderich had allowed him to try beer, and even then he had basically diluted half of it with water and it definitely didn’t taste like... whatever this bottle of horse urine was. 

“Ack! This is awful! ...I did it, are you happy now?”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Doesn’t count! He gagged!”

Ludwig took a deep breath.

“Let’s get back on topic. We are discussing the murder of a fellow comrade. This is no time for inane chatter.”

Finally, the air became solemn.

“Ja, reasonable, I guess…”

“Now, onto the information Scout 2 gathered...”

—————-

Ludwig, more than anything, considered himself a logical person. 

He and his mother both despised vagueness. It seemed pointless, really, all the dancing around the true meaning of your words in the name of “politeness”. While apparently many in this part of the continent were considered similarly blunt and practical, it seemed even then he was exceptional. 

So his own emotional turmoil, how he could never seem to explain himself, frustrated him more than anyone else. It angered him. 

But one thing he knew for sure was that he looked forward to stopping by the library on the way home. Thank goodness Roderich had taught him to read to a level more appropriate for his age; it was difficult at first, but he was also fortunately a fast learner. 

He always had taken a fascination with the sciences. They were at first glance unpredictable, but once broken down and observed, logical. They made sense, they were rational. Recently, he started finding them more investing than fiction, in fact. And his new reading skills finally made the higher levels of it beyond simplistic drawings attempting to explain the laws of physics and magic accessible.

Which was why today he sat outside the library in his usual spot, looking through a medical encyclopedia, munching on one of many bars of dark chocolate and a small loaf of bread.

Lutz licked up pieces of chocolate Ludwig had given him, peeking from under him.

“HERS?”

<Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome.>

Ludwig looked to Lutz in shock. 

<A rare genetic, psychiatric disorder with no known cause. Those afflicted by Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome, a Hereditary Evil Raiser, or HER, is said to be at their core an incarnation of malice, "programmed" to destroy the gods, everything they created and everything related to them. Therefore, as a natural prerequisite, they typically show extreme cruelty and having the compulsion to increase their own kind and ensure the continuation of their "mission" to spread malice by any means necessary, taking immense pleasure in doing so. Currently there is no known cure, though in high-functioning individuals it may be managed, and manifest in lesser ways.>

“How…”

<I have my ways.>

“Though… Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome? Who names this stuff?”

<Hey. They probably had their reasons.>

“Why do you care? Did you come up with it?”

<Maybe. Plus, that’s rich coming from the kid who literally named me “Blackie”.>

Ludwig sighed. 

“I... Fine. And wait... are you reading with me?”

<Yeah, I can read. I never told you?>

Ludwig continue to stare at him.

“I... I just didn’t think you would...”

<Turn the page already. I already know this.>

"Maybe you could try reading a novel, Lutz?”

<Don’t care. Why should I care about what you flesh-apes think, much less fake ones? No one in the world knows what I’m thinking anyway.> 

Ludwig closed the encyclopedia. 

“You mean you feel that no one understands you, right?”

Lutz looked up, his ears erect.

His words struck him like a spark of lightning. 

“That makes two of us”

An awkward few moments passed. For once in his life, Lutz had nothing to retort back. 

Why was he so shocked? 

Ludwig blinked, confused. 

“Lutz? What’s wrong?”

<...Nothing.>

Lutz didn’t know what he had just felt. 

“That makes two of us”

It should have meant nothing, coming from this brat. 

But yet...

Whatever. It probably still meant nothing.

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

“We’ve got our guy! Rich bastard’s not gonna know what hit ‘im.”

Their boss said, confidently, gesturing to an assassin she had bought into their abandoned factory hideout. 

The assassin looked across the crowd of gangsters.

“So. Which one of you brats wants to come?”

“Actually, we’ve got a good clue already for who’s gonna be a good fit for this mission.”

Ludwig waited, anxiously. He would gladly take the job of avenging his fallen comrade, of course. 

“Ludwig!”

Ludwig stood to attention.

“...You’ll be providing nice clothes for us to blend in!”

Ludwig was speechless.

“How… Why?”

<Turns out you aren’t as tough as you thought. Better luck next time, kid.>

But when all had left, he went up to his boss. He needed answers.

“Why am I excluded?”

She looked at him as if he was stupid.

“I don’t think ‘Giant Enemy Dog’ is a viable weapon to use on a cruise ship.”

“But… I can shoot well too! You said I was a great marksman!”

“You’re good. Gotta say that. Still, don’t know about your skills in stealth yet. Can’t risk it. Now, see ya.”

Then, she abruptly cut him off and left.

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

Three days later, Ludwig and the rest of the gang not chosen for the plot awaited at the dock. 

Soon, they spotted the assassination party, coming towards them. 

One person was clearly missing. 

“Hey! Boss! ...Boss? And where’s...”

Her face was dire.

“Shot dead. ...He spotted us.”

“He saw all our faces. All of you are fucked. We’re all fucked.”

More silence.

“...WHAT?!”

Silence immediately gave way to panic.

Ludwig stood, frozen.

“How… Why…”

He clutched his head, overwhelmed.

“But it can’t…”

Emotions swirled inside the boy, overpowering all of his senses, all of his thoughts. 

What was going to happen to him? His friends? 

“No, no, no, nonononononono…”

<You know what to do, kid.>

Suddenly, he bolted. 

Along the harbor, he ran. 

Then, in a burst of emotion and without much thought, as if on instinct, he acted immediately as Lutz took a running leap into the sea. 

“SIC ‘EM, LUTZ!”

He didn’t even bother with the telepathy. 

Everyone could only look on in shock and horror as Lutz became an utter behemoth of a beast, seemingly not completely solid and with a godlike glow, his tail alone twice the size of the ship; to those who were watching from afar, it would have looked as if a demon dog had risen out of the sea itself. 

The ship was no match for the beast. Before anyone could fully comprehend what was going on, the ship had been sunk, every single person on it with it.

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

Ludwig walked back to the gang, who all stood staring at him, utterly horrified.

Finally, someone broke the silence.

“...Holy shit.”

Another turned to him, their eyes wide.

“...Lud? Did you just…”. 

The boy’s mind was blank. What could he even say?

He had killed all of them. Every single one of them.

But in the end...

“Mission accomplished…?”

“Am I trippin’?”

“Did we just witness a massacre?”

“...What the fuck?”

Ludwig took a deep breath.

“But we accomplished our mission. ...I did what I had to do.”

“Ja, but… Holy shit.”

“In anyway…”

Their boss cleared her throat.

“Let’s… Let’s go with this loot before the cops find out.”

The rest could only muster a “Ja” in unison.

Lutz trotted up to Ludwig, as unbothered as always.

“Lutz…”

<Just did as I was told. Don’t complain to me. Here.>

In the dog’s jaws was a doll; an eerily faceless, unusual, porcelain-ish doll of indeterminable gender.

<Here. I brought a present.>

“What is…”

<Have it. Since I can’t give you Sancbruma presents, here it is, months early.>

“It’s… it’s probably from a dead child, Lutz!”

<Don’t be ungrateful. Oh, and your buddies are waiting. You should go.>

“...Ja. I did what I had to do. We killed him. That’s all that should matter…”

————-

The news of the shipwreck was all over the radio. They had listened to it in their hideout, huddled around the device. 

“The perpetrator is currently unknown. However, many claim to have heard the voice of a boy or young man scream for the dog to attack…”

————-

When Ludwig came home, Roderich was standing in front of the door, in shock. 

“Ludwig…”

“Onkel?”

“...It was you wasn’t it?”

Ludwig looked down to his feet. 

“Lutz, specifically…”

<Hey.>

Roderich pulled him into a protective embrace. 

“You could have put yourself in so much danger! What if the police find out about you?! Don’t you dare do that again.”

"...”

Roderich pulled him in. 

“Now, come in before someone recognizes you.”

—————

Roderich rarely ever let him join the rest of the gang since that day; it was too dangerous, he had said. 

He went out in mostly in a dark hood for a disguise, at times without Lutz, for over the radio, one expert had identified the beast as “a black Fenrir transformed with powerful magic.” 

Later that year, a month before Sancbruma and two months before his 14th birthday, he had heard something unusual. 

<Ludwig… Ludwig…>

“Huh?”

Telepathy. But Lutz wasn’t with him; it came from the doll in his bag. 

Ever since that fateful day, Lutz had told him to carry it for some vague reason he couldn’t understand; his alleged simple explanation was “It’s amusing to see you carry around a girly doll like that.”

<Ludwig...>

He took the bag off his back and looked in.

<Someone is after you. You have been found out. You must run.>

“What?! How do you…”

<Do not ask. Please, please run… you must.> 

He slung it back over his shoulder.

“Lutz!”

He had to get Lutz. Now. 

But by the time he had gotten home, it was too late. 

“No, Sir, he is not here. You will not find him here…”

“There he is!”

Two figures stood with Roderich; two figures he didn’t recognize. 

A tanned, sturdy-looking man in a black suit, probably from the south of the continent, turned his attention away from Roderich, and pointed at Ludwig, gun in hand. 

“Ludwig Beildshmidt! You are under arrest!”

Ludwig’s eyes widened. Emotions and stress once again blitzed through him. 

“Lutz! Restrain! ...Lutz? Lutz?!”

His eyes darted next to the man to the other figure, what Ludwig thought to be a long-haired, somewhat tall foreign woman in eastern attire, her dark, raven hair pulled back into a ponytail; seemingly holding Lutz back without touching the dog, but clearly struggling. 

“Hurry!”

She shouted, in a foreign accent Ludwig didn’t recognize. 

Ludwig bolted. 

“Don’t you dare, you-“

“Herr Edelmann! Stop, or you will be arrested as well for interfering with police procedure!”

“Don’t touch him!”

The mysterious man finally shoved the weaker-looking man off him and gave chase, but Roderich grappling with him had given him some extra time...

“Ludwig! RUN! RUN!”

But before Ludwig could escape, all of a sudden he was blindsided by a third person, jumping on his back and pinning him down, the boy’s small body no match for the adult. 

“LUDWIG!”

“Let me go, LET ME GO!”

That was the last thing he remembered saying before he had been slammed on the back of the head. 

Ludwig blacked out.

To be continued in part 2...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Author’s notes:

So I had to split this thing in half since it became much longer than I expected. Wow this is a monster. You will see the parts listed here after I write them. Parts, because this will have two different routes! Hopefully! Then again it seems like no one read this... 

Also, the scene with the sea is even more ambiguous “canon” in this already ambiguously “canon” story, but I wanted to write it in because I liked it, having seen the idea that Prussia has some kind of connection to the sea before and liking it. I wish I could find it now. I think Alt-Prussia would have grown up with the sea when he was younger, and while he would stay very strictly a land fighter (in fact the Prussian navy was never all that good, being mostly a merchant fleet. Even the German navy, while it did go through a growth period in the 1880s in competition with Britain I believe, by WWII at least their Kriegsmarine kind of sucked. It’s why the invasion of Britain never happened, their navy would have been laughably curbstomped), and I still associate England, Netherlands, or Portugal way more with the ocean, maybe the North Sea has some kind of soothing effect on him. 

Also adorable child!Germany is adorable. Why do I love this kid so much? Why is he so damn cute?!

[misterewrites]

Jack’s Annoyingly Insightful Mall Trip

Hello everyone, Mr.E here with a fun little story. Working hard to get back into to writing and today I am happy to bring you a little nova story! YAY! been forever. So I have to make this quick because it’s late but basically my good friend deth @marionette-j2x asked me for a little oneshot story and here it is.

So basically a kinda noncanon story that is set a few months after the last major story arc of Nova vs. Jack is searching for a new bowtie in the one place he hates the most: the mall. During his search, he runs into a familiar blue haired maid and makes a deal in exchange to save his beloved accessory. 

That’s it for me for now. I am a bit rusty but I hope you enjoy the story. Also slight nova spoilers.  Jelina everyone’s favorite blue haired maid belongs to my good friend deth @marionette-j2x and Jack is mine. Have an amazing week and I’ll see you all soon!

Jack mumbled unhappily to himself as he wandered the Echo Creek Mall alone, the handful of people scattered about really highlighting the vast emptiness of the building.

Normally Jack wouldn’t have come at all on a Monday but with his mother currently overseas and the need for a new bowtie imminent, he had no choice to but brave the sea of similar stores trying to sell him the same thing.

He had been hoping his two best friends would have been able to join him on this trip but naturally the two were quick to play their excuses: Nova was supposedly forced to go to Mewni with her mother and Connor claimed that he was currently trying to prevent roombas from escaping into the outside world.

Jack scoffed in disbelief “They’re vacuum cleaners. Of course they don’t have any natural predators”

Jack stopped mid-step once he remembered what exactly Connor’s parents did for a living.

“Oh that’s actually terrifying.”

He shook his head, trying to clear the thought away as he resumed his search.

His eyes lazily glanced from storefront to storefront, each increasingly less appealing than the last.

A sigh escaped his lips as Jack rubbed the now empty space where his beloved bowtie once was. He felt so off without his signature accessory but nothing could be done about it. It was torn and Jack’s years of ignoring his mother trying to teach him how to maintain and fix various fabrics had gotten back at the magician at least.

Not that he would ever admit that.

Jack scratched his cheek mindlessly, trying his best to stay focus on the task but between the fact that he didn’t really want to be here especially alone and that none of the bowties he had seen so far really spoke to him, he really just wanted to go home and risk heading to the monthly magician’s meeting tie less.

“Ugggggggggggggh” Jack whined “Whyyyyyy is this so annoyingly hard? Why can’t it be like those cartoons where the character wanders around for like a second and then the perfect bowtie is just there, gleaming brightly within some unrealistic angelic glow, beckoning them to buy them. Probably at an insanely high price for comedic effect.” Jack gave a playful shrug “Thank Hades I’m rich annnnnd I’m talking to myself. Yeah, time to go.”

He pivoted on his feet, turning towards entrance when he was blinded by a harsh light. He covered his eyes, hissing furiously.

“Whoops” a voice called out “Sorry about that. Let me just put the cover back on annnnnd...”

The lights dimmed as Jack rubbed his eyes. He squinted carefully at the man putting the plastic covering back onto the overhead lights.

“Sorry kid!” The janitor apologized while he climbed down the ladder “I forget how bright these bulbs are.”

Jack groaned, absolutely done with this entire trip when he spotted a familiar person.

His eyes narrowed, unable to keep the glare out of his gaze as she came strolling into the mall.

Jack ducked behind a nearby trash can, squatting low to make sure Jelina didn’t see him.

His mind raced with suspicious thoughts: Though Star and the council had cleared Kim and his maids several months ago citing some sort of mind control played a part in Nova’s abduction, Jack was naturally less inclined to trust them. Especially with the whole shooting a rocket at him and his favorite human.

Might’ve made it a bit personal to him.

Just a little.

If Jack didn’t know better (Which, luckily, he did) he would’ve guessed she was a simple, slightly robotic looking human just exploring the mall. She was dressed far more casually than the last time the two meet: A blue blouse with black undershirt, dark blue demi jeans and flipflops though she still kept her hair up in her buns with her two headphone..antennas? Were they antennas or…

“Focus Jack!” the magician scolded himself.

He expected Kim and her sisters to come walking in after her but aside from checking her comically large purse for a moment and quizzically staring at her surroundings, no one came and Jelina tentatively began walking towards the center of the mall.

Jack rose to full height, still openly glaring. She had to be up to something! She was a demon lord’s maid and Jack knew first hand the only reason demons come to Earth was because they’re bored. He should know that’s why he lived here.

“Hey kid.” The janitor asked with a hint of concern “Are...are you okay? You’re still squinting. I-I can get you some eye drops if you need them.”

“I’m fine” Jack growled

“…..okay.”

Jack bolted, quickly closing the gap between him and Jelina. He was going to find out what evil deed she was up to, no matter how long it took!

10 minutes later

“Ugggggggggggggh” Jack whined, trying his best to prevent boredom from overtaking his resolve as he hid against a wall.

Jelina was a very uninteresting subject to follow. So far she wandered aimlessly, taking a second to look at a store or vendor booth before timidly shuffling to another location. Once or twice she would take a step forward towards entering a place before changing her mind and altering course. The only thing that seemed to really catch her attention were some stuff animals at a toy store but even that wasn’t enough to lure her within. Jack was starting to suspect she knew someone was tailing her and was trying to bore them into leaving. That was the only explanation he could think of about her strange actions though he was fairly certain she wasn’t aware of who was on her trail.

“Hello Mr. Ordonia”

Jack jumped back startled, wincing in pain when the back of his skull slammed into the wall behind him.

“Oww! Son of...” He grimaced.

Jelina’s face was indifferent though Jack could see the subtle crook of a smile.

“I am sorry if I startled you” She spoke neutrally “It was not my intention.”

“Sure” Jack replied sarcastically “How did you even know I was here?”

Jelina gestured to her headphones “I heard you talking to yourself about me. I suspect you assume I am for some sinister purpose. I can assure you I am simply a tourist today.”

“A tourist? To Earth?” Jack rose an eyebrow “No demon is that bored!”

“Good thing I am a cyborg.” Jelina answered. Jack could hear the sass behind those words.

“Let’s say I believe you.” Jack began.

“You clearly don’t.”

Jack ignored her “Why the mall? This place isn’t even exciting during peak hours. Pretty strange place to pick on your day off. If it is your day off!”

Jack gave an accusatory point with his finger but Jelina just nodded “Yes it is in fact my day off.”

Jack’s finger dropped as he tried to process this information “I...but...”

“To speed this along, my lord, my sisters and I are currently under probation. After being monitored for several months along with full cooperation, the council has agreed to lift the dimensional travel ban under the condition we do not cause further trouble. Master Kim felt terrible about the situation we accidentally were dragged into and gave us each a day off.”

“So where are your sisters?” Jack eyed the surroundings carefully, half expecting them to jump out in an ambush.

Jelina took a deep breath “While I am grateful and respect the lord of the manor, I am afraid we would return to a pile of ash if we left Master Kim unattended for a day.  

Jack laughed “Hahah that’s funny. Demon lords are so helpless.”

“Like you?”

Jack huffed causing Jelina to grin mischievously

“So let me guess, it’s your turn and you decided to come to a mall?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

It was subtle but there was a shift in Jelina’s stance. What was once indifference was now guarded though timid.

“I am afraid to admit to you that I do not leave the house often.”

“No kidding” Jack smirked.

It was Jelina’s turn to glare “Well in any case I decided my first trip onto Earth should be the mall. It is such staple of many movies it seemed a perfect first choice.”

“Riiiiiight okay I’m going to go now. Bye!”

“Wait.”

Jack paused, surprised at the softness in the maid’s voice.

“I...” Jelina gulped nervously “I...don’t know how this works….”

“The mall? It’s not….” Jack caught the embarrassed blush on her cheeks “...always easy to navigate the first time.”

Jack let out a sigh “Okay, look if I help you through the mall, can you do me a favor?”

“Oh?” Jelina tiled her head quizzically “I admit I wasn’t expecting that to be honest but I suppose if it’s within my power and reasonable.”

“You’re a maid, right?”

“You know this Mr. Ordonia.”

Jack narrowed his eyes at the smiling Jelina “Call me Jack. Anyway, I take it you have someone who maintains Kim’s clothing? Like a tailor?”

Jelina nodded in agreement “Yes. Do you need something made or repaired?”

“Yeaaaah. If I show you around the mall, will you have them fix my bowtie?”

“That seems fair though you may have to wait a while for the tailor to perform their work.”

“That’s fine, better than wandering this hellscape for a replacement. Alright, where do you want to go first?”

_____________________________________________

“Sooooo” Jack gestured halfheartedly to the loose circle of various food booths “This is the food court where there is a court..of food.”

Jelina’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement “Interesting though I imagine this must be difficult for someone particularly indecisive. I am surprised the Underworld hasn’t adopted this as a form of torture.”

“Oh I’m sure my father is working on it” Jack murmured unhappily.

Jelina glanced at the half demon out of the corner of her eye but decided it was best to say nothing.

“Do you think we can try one?”

“Umm yeah...sure. What are you feeling? Burger? Chicken bowl? Pizza?”

“…..”

Jack rose an eyebrow as Jelina stood there, eyes darting back and forth between the various options.

“You trying to pick?”

“Yes”

“Indecisive, are we?”

Jelina’s indifferent face broke into a surprisingly cute pout that caught Jack completely unaware.

“No, I am calculating the best choice for a meal.”

“Yeah, I’m not buying that.”

“That is because you suck Jack.”

Jelina giggled playfully, breaking into a sprint as Jack gave chase.

______________________________________________________

Jack lazily tossed a fry into his mouth as Jelina cheerfully finished up her burger.

“I think I want to go here” Jelina gestured to a storefront, making her way within with Jack close behind.

“There seems to be a theme here.” Jelina thought out while she took in the various clothing options and designs “Are you sure a demon didn’t create a mall?”

Jack shrugged “Who knows but either way they were clearly some sort of evil.”

Jelina pursed her lips, eyes scanning the room as she wandered about.

Jack rolled his eyes, batting at various articles of clothing out of boredom. Just pat that, move this, touch this jacket for a while because the fabric felt nice.

“Jack?”

Jack snapped out of his thought, dropping the jacket sleeve as Jelina stared at him curiously.

“Are you alright? You weren’t talking about yourself so I assumed you had been arrested for shoplifting.”

“Ha ha. Shows what you know, I wouldn’t have been caught.” Jack beamed with pride.

“And you’re proud of this?”

Jack grumbled “You are just the worst….”

“Anyway” Jelina continued “I managed to find some clothes my sisters would love.”

Jack glanced over the articles of clothing and scoffed, snatching them from Jelina’s grip and shoving them onto the clearance rack.

“Hey! I was going to buy those!” Jelina angrily shouted, reaching for the discarded clothing only to have Jack stop her with an outstretched hand.

“No you’re not. That brand is my mom’s chief rival. You don’t want that trash.”

“I will not conform to your biases Jack. If I wish to buy these items, I will.”

“Fine but you’re going to have to have your tailor stitch holes and tears by next week assuming if they even last that long. The fabric is cheap, the sewing shoddy and it’s overpriced.”

Jelina rose an eyebrow “and I’m supposed to believe you?”

Jack waved his hand dismissively as he made his way out of the store “What do I care? It’s your money you’re wasting. My mom’s a lot of things but at least she takes pride in her work.”

Jelina thoughtfully watched the retreating figure of the magician.

Jack fumed on the outside bench, hands cradling his head while he murmured to himself “I really shouldn’t have said anything. What does it even matter? I don’t care. Why should I care what she spends her money on?”

What was he even doing? This was the same person that tried to blow him apart half a year ago and while she ultimately helped and even saved his life, it was less of being a good person and more to save her master. He should just go home and accept that his bowtie was dead and there was nothing to do but give it a proper viking funeral.

Jack went silent as he heard the clack, clack, clack of Jelina’s flip flops approaching.

“I take it your mother is a fashion designer?”

Jack scoffed “What gave it away?”

“Since you convinced me not to buy second rate clothing that my sisters would’ve adored, can you help me find your mother’s brand? And for your sake, they better be as cute as the ones I found.”

“….Fine but only because my mom would kill me if I didn’t at least try to push a sale.”

Jelina gave Jack a gentle smile.

Jack coughed awkwardly as he stood up.

______________________________________________

“So does Master Kim not give you ice cream or do you not know what it is?” Jack teased as the two patiently waited in the line.

Well Jelina was waiting patiently, Jack had his arm crossed, tapping his foot in an annoying fashion.

“Of course I know what ice cream is Jack” Jelina shot back “But this would be the first time in a long time that I wouldn’t have to fight off my sisters for such a treat.”

“Why don’t you all just buy your own?”

“We do. We really just love ice cream.”

“I can strangely relate. I too usually am trying steal ice cream from my friends.”

“I cannot see why Connor puts up with your antics”

“Probably my charm and good grace.”

“It’s certainly not for you humor that’s for sure.”

Jack mumbled under his breath while Jelina gave a crooked smirk. He opened his mouth retort when he caught sight of the headphones covering her ears. She had been wearing them all day. He assumed that it was a personal preference but in this moment, he couldn’t help but recall her words earlier. She was a cyborg which meant she possessed robotic parts intermixed within her human body.

Did Kim do this to her? Was it to save her life or maybe to ruin it? Demons weren’t exactly known for their kindness and that thought made Jack squirm uneasily.

“Stop staring Jack. It’s quite rude and for you, that’s saying something.”

Jack snapped out of it, trying to ignore the icy glance the blue haired maid was sending his way.

“I wasn’t staring, I was thinking.”

Jelina’s eyes widened in surprise “That explains the smoke coming out of your ears. Must be overworking your poor brain.”

“More like underworking.”

“That’s not a word.”

“And you’re not even human!”

Jack hadn’t meant to snap. He didn’t even know why he responded so poorly. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t even embarrassment. Maybe some part of him realized how much fun he was having with a near stranger. Maybe he was scared of being lured into a false sense of security, of being set up for some malicious or ill intent. Maybe it was because how easy it was to be so comfortable Jelina that threw him off. He had only met her twice and he already felt like he knew her his entire life. A strange and foreign connection that formed far more quickly than he expected. Someone as sassy and witty as him that he didn’t mind spending time with.  

There was a thick pause as the words tumbled out of Jack’s mouth. If Jelina was hurt or shocked by his response, she didn’t show it but Jack could feel her attitude shift, a distance that wasn’t there before  suddenly grew once more.

Jelina sighed “I am human. Just not completely. Was that what you were thinking of?”

“I...”

“Everyone does” Jelina spoke softly “Sooner or later they noticed my antennas or my headphones or the camera lens in my eyes.”

Jack was confused “Wait, there’s camera lens in your...”

“And they always think how human I must really be” Jelina pushed on “I am very human Mr. Ordonia.”

“Wait, that’s not what I...”

“I think I should go.” there was a finality in her voice that made Jack fidget guiltily.

She turned to him, shook his hand politely and gave a little nod “Thank you for your time”

“Hey wait a minute” Jack growled “I wasn’t thinking about how human you are. I was thinking….”

Jelina was unconvinced “You do not have to lie to me Mr. Ordonia. I know it is your prefer method of avoiding responsibility but I can assure you I am used such responses.”

“Fine” Jack huffed “Fine, what do I care? Just...fine!”

Jack stomped off, unable to control his rage despite his best efforts.

This is why he didn’t help people. This is why he hated the mall and this is why he was just going to go straight home.

____________________________________________________

He hadn’t. Guilt set in shortly after and when he returned to fix his mistakes like Connor taught him, Jelina was nowhere to be seen.

Many people who knew Jack would assume by performing this bare minimum effort to apologize he would clear his conscience and was now able to go home.

But those who truly knew him knew what he was about to do, driven by deep seated moral code he pretended he didn’t have.

He searched the mall. The second floor, the various stores, the court of food, even asking people to check the bathrooms for him. Seconds into minutes into an hour and still he searched.

He nearly gave up and took the weight of his guilt home with him until he heard the scuffling of sneakers across the sleek mall floor somewhere close by. Jack may have been a subpar student with an attention span of a rodent when forced to deal with things he’d rather not but that didn’t mean he was some simpleton.

That particular squeak was caused when someone was putting all their weight down on the balls of their feet, usually in order to brace for impact or preparing to lunge at someone.

Jack rounded the corner to a group of older teens, hands clenched into fists and snarling at Jelina who stood in front a younger girl who clutched at the blue haired maid’s bag fearfully.

“We just wanted the money she owed us” One of the boys shouted, eyes narrowing in righteous fury.

“Stop lying” Jelina scoffed “I know a bully when I see one. You will leave this poor girl alone.”

The trio laughed “Or what?”

“You really don’t want to know” Jack spoke up without warning.

The tap on his shoulder caused one of the bullies to whirl around in surprise, fist raised but Jack had flicked his nose, sending the unprepared bully staggering backwards.

“You best be off and mind your own business.” The leader spoke up, eyes shifting warily between Jelina and Jack on either side of him.

“Bold words for someone whose on fire.”

“What?”

Before anyone realized what was going on, the teen who stumbled over Jack’s sneak attack spontaneously caught ablaze,  flame burning the fabric for a moment as smoke rose upwards. An alarm blared while the sprinklers sprung to life, dousing the flame and bullies into a soppy wet mess. They shouted obscene curse words as they bolted past the lazy magician, tripping and flailing of over the slippy wet floor, the yells of the security guard trailing close behind the trio as they attempted to escape.

Jelina sighed in relief before glancing at the little girl “Are you safe?”

She nodded happily “Thank you!” and she launched herself into Jelina’s arm, wrapping the maid in a tight hug before leaving to search for her mother.

Jelina smiled warmly at the act but when she glanced back, Jack was nowhere to be seen.

Jelina raced down the hallway as quickly as she could only to find Jack casually leaning against the wall, grinning mischievously at the sight of the bullies being hauled away by mall security for setting a fire.

Jelina stood there awkwardly, unsure what to say to the demonic prince. While she no doubt could’ve handled those punks with no issues, she was grateful she didn’t have to wipe blood from her knuckles.

“You’re welcome.”

Jack’s soft voice surprised Jelina.

“I could’ve handled it myself but thank you all the same”

Jack stretched his arms “I know but I figured this was better than you getting in trouble with the council. Wouldn’t want you to be stuck at home for another god knows how many months.”

Jelina hadn’t thought of that. Had she picked the fight with the bullies, even in self defense and defense of another, it was entirely possible the council would’ve viewed it as causing trouble and forced her under harsh monitoring.

“….Thank you Jack.”

Jack grinned impishly “There’s the real one. Well since that concludes our business together.”

Jack pushed off the wall, turning away towards the exit when a hand gripped his shoulder gently.

“Jack….what were you thinking when you were lost in thought?”

“Oh now you believe me.” Jack raised an eyebrow.

Jelina pulled back her hand “You did set someone on fire for me after presumably looking to apologize. It’s only fair I hear what lie you came up with.”

“I never apologize” Jack exclaimed before glancing away “But I have to admit when I really thought about your….cyborgness...”

“Not a word.” Jelina cut in.

“Not caring” Jack continued “I wasn’t thinking if you were human because you clearly are. Like duh. I was thinking did Kim save you or did he do that to you. Demon lords aren’t exactly known….”

“For their kindness” Jelina finished “That is a fair question. I am not used to someone who understands the inter workings of demonic culture so intimately.”

“Yeah me either.”

Jelina paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts and deciding on how best to answer the question “Yes Master Kim did perform the operation on me though it was to save my life and the lives of my sisters. We owe him so much and he has always been kind to us. That’s why we refused to leave his side even when he was clearly not himself.”

“And why you were willing to free me and Connor.” Jack filled in.

Jelina nodded in agreement “You were our best hope….I am sorry I assumed poorly of you. Despite this last hour, I had fun today.”

“Well I didn’t”

Jelina’s face fell “Oh….I...”

“But” Jack rubbed his neck timidly “That’s my fault. I was so caught up in your angle and what you were planning that I pretty much was on guard about everything. When I finally actually stopped and looked at you, thinking about what you’ve been through….well I dunno I guess I wasn’t liking the fact you weren’t as bad as I thought you were. Even if you are really annoying.”

Jelina stifled a chuckle “Just because I do not think poorly of you does not mean you are not irritating.”

“Look, about the bowtie….”

“Oh right” Jelina snapped fingers “Do you have it on you? Given how far you were willing to go just to repair it, I suspect you do.”

“Yes” Jack began slowly “But given how much trouble I almost got you in, it’s okay if...”

“Hand it over Hellspawn.”

Jack wasn’t sure how to feel about the sudden name calling, no matter how accurate, and decided perhaps it was best to just to give her the bowtie. He fished it gingerly out of his pocket and carefully handed it over. It didn’t really matter, the tailor must’ve been back in the Underworld and lord knows how long it took them to fix tears on fabrics. It was only fair that he wait however long it took.

Jelina studied the rip on the strap cautiously as she fished out a small square kit from her purse. She pulled out a sewing needle and thread and before Jack could mutter a single confused curse, she began stitching the beloved bowtie back together, her work fast, efficient and effortlessly. Less than a minute later, the repair work was complete and Jack held his precious bowtie in his hand good as new.

“Thank you for a wonderful day Jack.” Jelina politely bowed and quickly strolled away.

“You are the literal worst maidy!” Jack called out, no real bite to his insult.

Jelina simply smiled to herself, humming softly as she made her way back home.

[letitbefiction]

Hunted hunter

Warnings: if your a supernatural fan it won’t be so bad if not. Murder.

A/N: I’m honestly doing this for myself because I really love the show and this character is if I had a part in supernatural I’d want to play.

Not sure what season I’m writing it for so??

Pairing: non yet(?)

Word count: 2192 (damn)

__________________________________________________

Chapter one- A sinful creature.

Seven days, connected through six starry and dark nights.

Her lighted eyes turned into dark ones as a child, like everyone else’s does.

The calming life of being happy, loved and surrounded by peace seemed like a far forgotten dream for her.

She seemed to enjoy a small moment that happened long ago, it’s a simple one, a classroom, filled with bored teenage kids, each busy with the nothingness that temporarily filled their life. History class. An educated woman explaining the story of heroes and death, but she did it wrong. Not out of stupidity, the teacher was lacking facts. And she knew it, because she was there. But she simply nodded with a soft smile.

That smile became rough now, and she was only left with memories.

Driving over the limit, songs with high volume, cheap motels, blood, guns, scars and running. Always. Running.

She’s on the road, alone, with nothing but the image of the character they gave her riding in the backseat.

They say she’s a monster. That is not a lie but than again it wasn’t the full truth. She was born from sin and both sides of the story believes that she must die for justice. But her? She’s not in any side. She’s just running.

The car window rolled all the way down as pine scented air blew her dark hair back as the music filled her racing mind, eyes flickering at the sunset that shown through the forest that surrounded the empty road.

Her face expression is focused and cold as she drove by a wooden sing curved with cursive Avon Lake- Columbus Ohio.

The red 1966 finally came to a stop in front of a diner, the bright colorful neon lights reflecting on the clean glass windows, as the vintage car door swung open easily the young girl got out, her black combat boots were somehow still intact considering how worn out they’re supposed to be by time, she wore dark colored jeans that in dark time would even seem black, lots of colorful patches and perfect sewing that surprisingly kept the distressed jeans, a white shirt filled with wrinkles and the lower right side was blood soaked and hidden underneath a black leather jacket, her neck on the other hand had blood splatter all over it, knowing it she placed her straight nighted hair over it. Slowly closing the door behind her as strong wind began flowing in the night, her steps made noise through full parking lot as she went in the small diner.

The smell of food flowing in her nostrils, especially the smell of hamburgers and chocolate cake, she looked both ways scanning the room in a heartbeat and slowly walked to the front counter “excuse me..?” She said in a soft voice as an elderly turned around with a wrinkled smile “yes dear how can I help you?” She scanned the man easily, a veteran around his mid sixties and happily married. She smiled faintly “where are the bathroom..?” She asked fragility “down the hall to the right.” He announced as if it was something special, she thank him and turned on her heel, holding her head low and alerted, scanning the people that surrounded her with a simple glance.

She quietly opened the cracking door than locking it behind her, slowly walking towards the mirror, starting back at her was someone she knew so well but at certain times seemed like a stranger, her dark straight hair falling messily on her chest and her tanned face. Big dark colored eyes staring back holding behind walls pain and horror, a small cut on her full yet small lips. Tying her hair back tightly she then opened the tap water washed, cupping her hands overflowing them with the cold water then bringing it to her face, then again to her neck and slowly watching the clear water turn into a dirty maroon color. Drying her now clean skin she decided to hang in the diner a bit longer.

“would you like to order something?” A young waitress asked with a tired smile “cheeseburger with fries and uhhh chocolate milkshake.” She said with a small smile “sure thing! And your name?” The blonde girl asked politely and quiet suddenly spread “your name miss?” She asked again, “my name?” The black haired girl stared blankly “yeah it’s just that we put the name on the order and” “Violet.” She cut her mid sentence “my name is Violet. And please I’ll take that to go“ she smiled awkwardly and the waitress noted it quickly before turning away with a tight smile.

A few moments later you’d be able to find her eating in the backseat of her car of whatever left of the burger and a delicious combination of salty fries with the chocolate milkshake being shoved in her mouth happily. And as soon as the food was gone she was gone as well, heading over to a cheap motel downtown.

Outer motel seemed empty with a few rooms booked the red and blue neon sing flashing in the rarer mirror, as she got into her room Violet could already smell the stench of cheating spouses and low priced hookers, and of course the smell of horny teenagers made her wonder if the staff had ever clean those rooms or changed the sheets.

She threw her dirty duffle bag on her bad and continued her research. Closing the blinds after seeking the safety of darling, her car then placing her silver laptop on the rust colored table and plopped into the matching wood chair. Four missing in six days, three bodies are found without a heart, some say it’s say it’s animal attack but to every hunter it’ll be easy-werewolf.

She decided to force some shut eye to pass the time and let her wounds heal quicker, as soon as she sat on the broken mattress she muttered “fuck” in annoyance and rolled her eyes.

The next morning she woke up around 4 am and began getting ready, she honestly kind of hated pants suits but if you’re going to be a fake FBI agent at least make it look real, the navy tie is neatly falling on her white collared shirt, she placed a coal colored blazer that matched her pants over her shoulders and swiftly brushed it over with her hands, and then brushed her hair neatly into a ponytail. And just her luck another body was found.

Walking into the station she walked with confidence and coffee. “Agent Laia Granger, FBI” she said taking the badge out quickly, the officer who she could only assume was the chief didn’t even bother to ask, like most people they didn’t care much. “And you are? She said in a more of a question tone and saw his face expression changing into a more irradiated one “David Autumn” he said formally and shook her hand, He began filing her in practically shoving the file into her arms.

“The victim. 35. Female as you can see, we found her uhhh an hour ago” the elderly man scratched his balding head as he walked her into the morgue, Violet scanned his appearance as a computer, the man is mid 50, seeing his facial haid and his car in a motel near her he is either kicked out of his own home or cheating? For several weeks, was in a rush in the morning-buttons are in the wrong holes, Married for a long time by his ring, smokes out of stress been on the job for a long time maybe that’s why he didn’t care.

“I mean look at the body!” He said in disbelief as he lifted the covers carelessly It has to be an animal attack! Or a really mental fucked psychopath.” He sighed placing his chubby arms in front of what she could only assume was a beer gut. Well he was right for both theories that’s for sure, they then walked outside of the dimmed room a“What are the feds are doing here anyways?!” He asked, well, more of roaring a demand at the short female while walking to the crowded office.

Violet straight her posture as soon as she realized how quite the station had become to his voice “well. Sir if we could talk in private please?” She said in formality, men like him never really got to her...especially not him. The blading chief eyed the others as he led Violet into his office. As soon as the door closed Violet thought of a way to let her anger flow by a threatening yet elegant way while the fatted chief sat on a leather chair that made the most irritating noise. She straight leaving her arms to the sides staring straight into his eyes with coldness “I am here because it is not the first time we are seeing this, the office though ignoring it but I was around and I was approved to check it to make sure. Every action I do I do it for a reason and do not try to intimidate me or have the higher power over me by yelling at me in front of your people. I am to take seriously and if not I will be the cause of you losing your job. Understood?” She said raising her voice a little bit causing the man’s eyes to grow bigger, she took a step closer to his desk lifting her chin and tilting her head a bit “I said. Understood?” She repeated and he was quite to nod muttering the answer “yes.” Pleased Violet left the office left the chief shocked in his chair.

It was rather easy to find the wolf all she had to do was wait a bit, by her research and footage that of course the donut cops forgot to check showed a young man, around his twenties having a chat with each of the victims about a day before their disappearances, most likely luring those young men and women as pray.

He wasn’t cautious enough and was easy to track as a matter affect Violet decided to play bait. Seeking the right look from the footage she observed the young girls and decided to dress like them...and that is when she finally encountered a problem. She doesn’t own “nice things” and going out always seemed a bit dangerous. More than hunting itself she was fearful of being hunted herself.

Rolling her eyes at the pathetic problem she had she grabbed a few stuff and went shopping only to come to her stanch rotting room with a simple black dress and new boots that were cut off at her ankles. Wearing the most weird outfit she had in years she looked in the mirror fixing her lipstick, slowly stopping her hand motion and staring blankly as if the mirror was talking back at her, with a flick of an eye the darkness within her concurred her, it was nothing new to her but she shook it as fast as she could hating the feeling that it left- emptiness, hunger, blood and death. a deadly sin that was the waiting to erupt.

The dark color sunk back into her pupils and she shook her head grabbing her pistol and filling it with silver bullets, leaving the rest behind her.

Waiting in the targeted bar she was quick to realize that he was already took a liking of another, she was a bit pleases but worried. He wasn’t as intimidating as he seemed in the dark footage, he had blue eyes and even freckles, she felt sorry for him and then she felt nothing.

As soon as he left she followed him into a darkened ally, the smell of fish came from no where and the cars began flowing the quite environment, she watched her breath and his movements walking only a inches away from him, he knew it, he felt it thinking he even smelled an odd and unrecognizable smell. He turned around itching for a fight but Violet was quicker and he was predictable. Thinking he might have imagined it he turned around only to be shot in the heart the moment he did. The echoing gunshot seemed to disappear into the busy streets where no one even thought to turn their head. Bleeding on the cold pavement, he searched for mercy in an unforgiving eyes, she never felt a thing. Maybe a little joy. A small piece of picture fell into the pool of blood, after all killing someone and not taking his wallet seemed like a waste of time. The small picture was of a short cut brunette child, no more than the age of six that must have fallen through in a see through compartment, he was a father.

She stared at him blankly and watched the light in his eyes leave. Turning on her heels and walking into her blood colored car, that now. Once again. Matched her stained flesh.

[austinhuang0131]

The Intruder

A sequel to The Destroyer. Never presented since I mentioned my classmates in the story.

Edited December 9, 2017.

“Your story is so bad! You just described the whole instruction of how to solve a crime. Plus, the guy was like never caught before, but you guys caught him that easily?”

Yeah, I was being savage again. But it was true: Literally all my comrades…I mean friends…thought so, just never said it in front of her, but they all cheered when I said it, with loud claps. Such cowardice. “How about you write one?” The girl knew how to deal with my savagery so that at least she can steal something from me and be more popular. These teenagers. Her friends cheered for her. But her story was really bad. Like the kind that no sympathy can be given. “Alright,” I shouted. “Challenge…accepted! Challenge accepted!” My figure is too big to fail. I mean, all these boys fear me, as I have already established my superior authority in dealing with money, dealing with relationships, and also dealing with governmental relationships. You guys should’ve read my story before, right? But not all those girls. Especially that girl. Transfer student. Relatively mini in size. Has bad tastes just like these disconnected dudes and dudettes back in her original school. While she’s not very good looking, she has already lured three boys, although all low-tier trash kids. Still, luring three boys is pretty impressive indeed.

Since the death ran past me last time, I am escorted home by cops, because they think it’s just too easy for me to get shot again. You might think that as a privilege, but you are definitely wrong: The cops are just aggressive on anyone who approaches us. Also, I didn’t say much to the media, so they become curious about me. When I get stuck in traffic, tens of reporters who had waited for my arrival for a long time just swarm around me, trying to get as much from my mouth as possible. When the cops acted aggressively, they respond aggressively, and thus a chaos is formed around me. I actually feel like that’s worse than being caught and interrogated by that government. I got back to my foster home. Dinner was ready for me. Relief. “Hey, someone mailed you some chocolate!” My foster mother says. She really cares about all these things I got from the mailbox because I often request freebies from various sources: I like bargaining and freebies, just like one of my teachers, despite the fact that I have earned some fortunes already. But not this time. I’ve heard that Mossad agents murdered a German with toxic chocolates that reacted slowly. “No…Not really. You see, I’m sensitive now.” “But it’s Godiva! Not some Merci but Godiva!” “It’s not even a Lindt! Besides, I’m sensitive now, don’t you know?” My foster mother left with a shrug. I had dinner and went upstairs to my room. My daily routine after dinner is that I finish my homework as well as my contract work to earn a small-but-impressive income. But that day I felt dizzy. I kept thinking about the girl. I never felt she’s that attractive, not to the three boys, but to me, a guy who usually ignores girls. I kept thinking about whether to actually be a deliverer or a bamboozler, as I had already accepted the challenge. So I went to sleep early. Muddling in my sleep, I could sense the lightning outside my window. Heavy rain. Trees shaking.

Waking up to the radio. Another day. Rainy. I got dressed and prepared, grabbed my breakfast, saw the cops waiting for me, got escorted, passed through ordinary traffic, arrived school, chilled for a bit with my classmates, then I went to the class. One of my buddies, who never take sick days and was energetic when he cheered for me the day before, was absent. Dudes in my circle gasped, including myself. Is it that government? This idea flashed in my head like the lightning I heard yesterday. The rain, lightning, shaking trees… must be some sign of bad things. So it is that government! Recalling my experience scene by scene, I feel regret…I became the headlines, I helped my family…But I…I betrayed my friends! Wait…There was only one person missing. What if he’s actually sick? I gave up punishing myself. But I felt dizzier. All the sudden, something came to my mind. “That might do for the challenge that the bitchy girl demanded.” She wrote a detective story, so what if I wrote a detective story as the sequel to The Destroyer? That’ll effectively bring her down and increase my throne…I mean authority. “What are you saying?” It’s that boy. Transfer student. Same origin as the girl. Same bad taste, maybe worse. What a terrible school they came from, I thought. “Are you actually going to say he died? There’s no more time for that challenge! This is SERIOUS! Just STOP!” “What did I say?” “You said…” “Stop.” While the boy didn’t persuade me to abandon my idea, his words actually enhanced my thought. I felt more terrible now. I left the crowd in the classroom. I could faintly sense someone watching behind me, who I failed to catch as it ran away so fast. I lost my concentration in class, thinking about the fate of the absent guy, over and over. Then I figured that it’s just too much. I gave up my thought. Time flies by quickly. The cops showed up at the front gate on time. I told them that one of our comrades…I mean friends…was missing. “Did you just say comrades? Are you a commie?” This government hates commies. “Shut up. How can you be so damn chill when someone is probably abducted by the part-time scumbags, or maybe full-time scumbags?” “I don’t know. I’ll try to get in contact with them.” I was back home. Tired. Exhausted. The chocolate sitting on the dining table was never touched. “You look tired.” “No, I’m fine. Another test this week.” “Okay. But you never worried about tests!” “Not a lot of tests at the same time…You know what, it reminds me of my time back in that country. We have tests weekly, like every single week. You won’t believe it. Try it. You can literally lose your life.” I stormed upstairs. Outside the window, red the moon was. I saw a tweet that inspired me. “Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.” I mean, they are my friends, but not forever. They are not bringing me any direct benefit. Besides, for the people that bring me direct benefit, like cold hard cash, they are not necessarily my friends. So, I guess it’s not a big deal… Stop! What if they become successful? You can easily go into the kool kids klub, you enjoy privileges, you can also earn cold hard cash! You can easily apply for certain jobs with someone who recommends you! So, I guess I shouldn’t do it… Wait! That’s much later, plus how could I imagine them being successful? They’re like just relaxed, not caring about report card, and are literally making memes every day…How can they be successful? Why should I carry my hope on them? The twisted mind of me sucked the last strength out of my body. I lay down on my bed feebly. It was a half-an-hour nap, then I got up and hurried into the work I needed to be done. Although tired, I was still conscious of my actions, so I wasn’t really worrying. Then I slept. For the second time muddling in my sleep, I could sense the lightning outside my window. Heavy rain. Trees shaking.

Waking up to the radio. Another day. Rainy. I got dressed and prepared, grabbed my breakfast, saw the cops waiting for me, got escorted, and…The cop told me something no one can believe. “My buddy visited the sick guy. He was sick with sudden anemia.” The officer who escorted me said. “But he was fine the day before…” “He found a kiss on his neck. No lipstick, but pretty red. Tried to identify it, but the forensic department said no match in the database.” Well, this expels my trouble… by pushing another in. This is a scientific world, why can there be demons or vampires? “Any needle holes?” “You’ll be surprised.” He stopped the car on the side and handed me some photos. “Too-long-didn’t-read: No. Also, you can keep them.” Another guy was absent, but I have no more strength to care about that: This effectively distracted all my concentration. I went through these photos over and over too many times to even keep up with the classes, and I got called out, unfortunately. At least I am a good student for most of the time, I could get away with the reason of “a bad sleep”. During an excess, I could, again, faintly sense someone watching behind me, but at least I could get a glance: It’s the girl with bad taste. I mean, I watch anime. I knew how vampires work, but that’s artistic expressions. I would need some info on actual experience. I rushed out of the front gate as the classes ended, then told my escorting officer to drive me to the national library. He was quite surprised, but he did anyway. I ran to the history section and searched through the old, crappy books for some folk legends about these demonic creatures, but I couldn’t: The library sucks. Leaving it, I got escorted home, opened the door, put down my bags, then stormed upstairs to my room. Online research would be the only way. But, as I’d expected, this couldn’t be any more fantastic. I was exhausted, but at least there wasn’t any homework that day. As suggested in anime and common settings, I decided to keep my eyes open in bed as long as possible. I sneaked to my Keurig, added some quality Columbian coffee gifted from my Latino neighbour next door to my K-cup, pushed the handle and the button, quickly drank the coffee-water – Keurig is weaker for My K-Cup comparing to regular pods, thanks to the evil capitalism – and then I went to bed. Blame that Keurig. It had almost no effect. I kept my eyes open for like an hour and then I gave up. I guess I’ll praise communism to get more effective coffee. Another lifetime experience began, as I said. Or maybe I’m too naïve.

“Wake up.” A soft, comforting voice. It was that girl in a pinkish nightdress. “HOLY CRAP! BURN IN HELL!!! WHICH GOD OF WHICH RELIGION PUT YOU HERE, IN MY DREAM? HOW DARE YOU SEDUCE A LEGEND?” Pinky fumes with the smell of a familiar perfume surrounded my room. That really makes up a temptation, I thought. But anyways, I just couldn’t bear that marshmallow smell. “You stole your friend’s perfume to make particulate matter. What a bad taste in perfume, just like your taste in guys. Now let me get some protection against this air pollution.” “The Ketchup lent me that. And you’re so mean, so you’re mine now. You’re not going anywhere. You probably have heard from the officer…right…?” She lay down her hand on my shoulder. Behind a cute face is such an evil plot. “But do you actually have anyone that loves you?” You see, I can still be savage even if I’m confronting a possibly-mutated supernatural being who looks like a girl. Silence. “Power is just an excuse. You can’t hide the fact that you have no actual friends. No one will care about you unless you force them to care. That’s so sad.” She stopped moving. Her face was around 20 centimetres away from mine, but I can no longer sense her breath. Bon chance! I kicked her right in the face so hard that she fell off my bed. “See, you will never attract a living meme, a legend, a headliner. You will never get me.” I tried to open the door, but it got locked. Windows, too: The handle got tied up. Now I need a hammer to break the glass open, but that’s not easy, considering my window glasses are now bulletproof: Hard as a rock. I choked on the pinky fume. I became unconscious… “Wow. You’re so mean. Don’t you adore my power? What if you can have it?” My suffering didn’t end when I woke up. She really can read my minds. “I’d rather sell my power for money.” What a savage answer I gave. “Don’t you like girls around you?” “If I can’t sell my power, I’ll sell the girls.” Does that mean I shouldn’t sell the power? “Don’t you like girls who are rich?” “With great power comes great responsibility. I’ll just sell my power to someone and let them do the job. Also, such supernatural power can come with side effects, y’kno.” “Wow. You are really mean.” I wrecked her so hard, which was equivalent to pouring gasoline on a fire. But she just lay her head down my neck without hesitating. She kissed me. Journey to hell now, I guess. “WHAT THE…” Her lips were pretty soft, but you can feel that sting on your neck and your blood being sucked out. My strength was being drained away... It was some moments later that I realized that I couldn’t resist her. Her lips staying on my neck. “I’m…glad…that…” “What?” “…you…killed…me.” A savage kid needs a savage death.

Instead of waking up in the heaven or the hell, or feeling worn-out due to the anemia, I woke up normally. Her lips remained still on my neck. Eyes closed. No movement. She’s dead. “Thank God she died.” Relief…Not for long. More and more questions popped up in my head. “How did she die?” No wound on the corpse, no trace of any fight. “Did I kill her?” I passed out after her kiss, sure I was unconscious. “How should I deal with this?” I can’t tell the police: I touched her, so there goes my fingerprint. Guess I’ll have to sneak out at late night carrying a corpse. She’s a devil that can stir things up once found, so I guess there are some self-destruction features left for me to discover. “So you think I’m dead?” A voice in my head. It’s the girl. “Holy! Where the hell…” As I said, it is a scientific world, and... “Exactly. I tried to suck your blood out, and then I became unconscious for like no reason. And that’s what happens when I woke up. Now PUT ME BACK!!!” Eek. Holy crap. Does that mean I contain her soul now? Having a girl in my head really hurts. It’s not like I’m afraid of being paranoid, it’s just that my report card can go down if she bothers me in a test. “No. Get punished for being an intruder to the Destroyer.” “You won’t be able to bear me. I’ll just trash talk all the time until you do so!” “You’ll see. Also, I don’t have the tech to get you back, y’kno. Stop begging.” So I began my regular morning routine. I got dressed and prepared… “You have so few clothes in your closet!” Grabbed my breakfast… “You have a wrap?” Saw the cops waiting for me… “Cops drive you to school?” Got escorted… “What a privilege…” “BURN IN HELL! I beg you, please, JUST STOP! You’re only leading me to commit suicide, which kills you too. But trust me, that won’t happen. It’s time for you to suffer.” “You know what, I actually really like you.” What an obvious flattering lie. “Point proven,” I shrugged, “Bad taste.”

[cooltrainererika]

Alt-talia x Evillious Chronicles: The Key to Zorn (Part 1 v. 2)

Sigh… there appears to have been a misunderstanding between the event holder and I. I just hope I hear back from them. 

Just in case, this is an alternate version of “Key to Zorn”, which I resubmitted for the Free Day prompt, but could also be considered to be one for Fate/Coincidence or By your side. It’s platonic at this point. You may read either version, as the differences are mostly superficial, but I thought this version may be more fitting considering how I write Alt-Germany. 

[Summary: Crossover with the Nemesis arc of the Evillious Chronicles. Everyone is searching for their very own Happy Ending... But where is his, if it exists at all?

Young Ludwig Beilshmidt lives alone in a cabin in the woods, waiting for the return of his mother. But one winter morning, a certain, seemingly chance encounter changes his life forever, leading his life to become increasingly entangled with much grander plans...]

(Yes, lame summary, but I didn’t know how to write it without spoilers. The same text as the original is copy-pasted below)

Couldn’t come up with a better title.

Okay… so… holy hell.

This is the longest fic I’ve ever written. And it isn’t even finished.

I thought “Superbia” was long. But… I outdid myself. Over FORTY FREAKIN’ PAGES IN GOOGLE DOCS. And again, this is not finished, I’m splitting it so I at least have the hope of releasing something! With two routes! This is a novel, folks!

I’m probably going to repost this for the Christmas event since I want as much people to see them as possible. Because there are some Christmas elements here. So yeah, you can take this as an early Christmas fic too.

This will be a movie, folks. Grab a seat and some popcorn.

Also, look, it’s goddamn Ludwig torment again! For the fourth time in the span of a month! And this might just be the most elaborate way I’ve tormented the poor guy yet. But I didn’t really have many options.

So I wanted to enter Mirror Week, but in the main canons write in, Alt-talia and Hetalia Emblem, I haven’t come up with any use for 2Ps, and in the former case I can’t see how I could use them.

However, there was one Alt-talia spin-off AU I had been thinking they would exist on; I didn’t know whether I wanted to release media to it so early, and due to a reason I will explain in a moment, I was reluctant to release media about it in general. But… I went with it.

This is my Evillious Chronicles AU. Yes, an AU of an AU. What about that.

Basically, the Evillious Chronicles is what started as a series of Vocaloid songs telling a much larger story; it has since ballooned into a vast, tangled network of light novels and other such media. It’s as confusing as it sounds. Some of you may have heard of the songs “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil”; those were the first songs to be released in that series. Those two songs weren’t self-contained, oh no.

The thing is, for this AU I wanted to write just based on the seven sin songs (and Servant of Evil), with accompanying Hetaloid covers, and leave the rest of the story up to the audience. I’m still planning on that. However, I still wanted to enter the event, so here I am presenting a version of events for one of the arcs; however, it is merely the route that hews closest to Evillious canon from what I can gather of it. So yeah, NONE OF THIS IS HARD CANON. Especially since I wasn’t sure on the roles of some characters here.

Also, if I somehow ever get to publishing my main Evillious x Hetalia fics sometime in the future; first of all, hi. But more importantly, please, I implore you, do not read this before reading The Muzzle of Ludwig. Especially the second half. I tried to avoid spoilers, but someone becomes extremely obvious with contextual clues.

Also… it’s not like I wanted to write Ludwig torment again. But he was basically my only option, since he was the only one whose sin most likely overlaps with… well, it’ll become clear as this goes on. Ludwig’s story here is based on Nemesis Sudou’s story. Though since Nemesis and Ludwig are vastly different characters, there may be some plot holes, unfortunately.

And THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: for those who have read none of my other works yet, Alt-talia has often vastly, vastly different characterizations. I based most of these characterizations off of their late 19th century to very early 20th century personalities in Alt-talia. Special OOC warning for the following characters: Austria, Hungary, and Prussia. Minor OOC warning for Germany. I used @askimperialludwig ‘s version of the character as a reference, along with my personal perception and research. may add more later.

Also, credit to my friend @tomboyjessie13 , my Evillious consultant, for helping me through this!

I can’t let this be too long, since the fic is long already. Let’s go!

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(Also... people who read my fics, please reblog them. I work hard on them, and want many to see them!)

And since I forgot to add this above the cut; this canon is also one of the few times Nyotalia characters canonically exist as their own entity in my works, if not the only one so far. It’s kind of necessary, since otherwise it’ll turn into a complete sausagefest. However, as I have no set personality for them in main Alt-talia canon, I basically write them the same way as I would their male counterparts, with maybe some minor changes. I do have some ideas for Nyotalia characters in “what if” stories for main Alt-talia canon, but since this would be an Alt-talia spinoff, most of my theoretical audience would be there for the Alt-talia characters who appear in most Alt-talia media. Not to mention male stereotypes for countries are usually more fun anyway. However, in this universe two counterparts of the same character can co-exist. I try to avoid that though.

Also, a character named “Arendt” is briefly mentioned; this is Brandenburg. He isn’t really that important though, and really I’ve barely fleshed him out, so that’s all you need to know.

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The Key To Zorn

Part 1: And Then The Boy Went Mad

In a certain continent, there was a forest.

A serene, peaceful forest, where inside one could almost feel mystical energy in the clear, unpolluted air.

Until, under the evening sky, a gunshot sounded.

Ludwig Beilschmidt, a boy of merely 8 with innocent, cornflower blue eyes, ran through the forest he knew so well, a basket of wild berries and herbs in his arms and a small sack over his back.

Soon, in his view, among the trees and wild cornflowers was the only place he had known all his life, the little wooden cottage he called home.

The boy immediately checked his old, somewhat rusted mailbox, a look of anxiousness on his face - one which immediately turned to disappointment upon finding there was nothing there.

He sighed.

“Nothing today either...”

He reached up somewhat, twisting the doorknob and opening the wooden door.

“I’m home!”

No one answered back.

As per usual.

He didn’t expect one anyway.

Ludwig went to the dining table, setting the basket and sack, as well as his small, old-model pistol, down on his side of the table. Inside the sack was a small rabbit; the poor little thing. He hoped it didn’t struggle for long after he had shot it.

He prepared dinner as he always did, the bubbling as the ingredients stewed the only sounds other than the cries of the wildlife outside.

And he ate in silence by the light of the lamp, staring at the empty, vacant other side of the table, the light of the sun dim and faint.

“Mutter, is it good?”

Nothing.

Ludwig sighed again, going back to shoving the stew into his mouth.

——-

Ludwig tucked himself into bed after a bath and a change of clothes, now in his old, almost too small pajamas, having finished the book in his hands an hour ago - while he had reread it and others several times already, it was a window into a world different from his, where friends supported each other and families told stories in front of the fire - but now that it was over, here he was, once again, stuck in loneliness, on his own, within the cold, dark walls of a small cabin.

Once again, it was quiet. All too quiet; except for the sounds of the forest.

Now as he had nothing to distract him, every rustling of the underbrush, every animal cry made him bristle. The forest was his comfort by day, almost a second mother, but by night, it was dark, feral.

He pulled his blankets up to his face, curling up, shaking like a leaf. He felt any moment, a beast could break through the walls and tear him to shreds.

He missed his mother so much, oh how he missed her. Her harsh but protective voice, her calloused hands squeezing his wrists. He missed his onkel Arendt, who told him stories of the battles he and Mutter had been through.

She’s dead. She’s dead, accept it.

No, no she wasn’t.

She couldn’t be. She had to be alive.

She was too strong to die.

She would come back. She always came back.

His mother wouldn’t want to see him like this anyway. He was being pathetic.

“Einz, zwei, drei...”

He took a deep breath. He was stronger than this.

Imagining his mother was standing by his bed, staring at him with disapproval at his fearful behavior, finally his shivering started to lessen ever so slightly.

He needed to make it so that when she came home with another medal shining on her chest, she could come home to a son she could be proud of, after all.

“Good night.”

He said to no one in particular, as he let the faint moonlight be his comfort, finally closing his eyes.

Lu li la la lu li la la la...

A soothing, calming melody played in his mind; Ludwig didn’t know where he knew it from, but as it surrounded him in soft, almost familiar gentleness, the shivering stopped, his muscles loosened, and he was finally lured into the welcome embrace of sleep.

Lu li la la lu li la la la…

Lu li la la lu li la la la...

———-

“FIRE!”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Birds flew away in massive numbers, disturbed by the sudden noise.

Ludwig blew the steam off his pistol, seeing that the bullets had all landed near-target. Almost there.

Not bothered by the recoil anymore, he lined up the shot again, swearing he would get it right this time.

Every two days he did this, before 10 sets of running, marching, and every parallel bar routine; this wasn’t how most children his age passed their time, willingly anyway, if the books he read were any indication, and surely he felt sorry for the animals who had to hear such things, as they were the closest things to friends he had. But it broke the silence.

And most of all, he could almost sense his mother beside him during these practice drills; he could feel her hands on his arms guiding him in his aim, and hear her voice shouting in tandem with him as he shouted “FIRE!”. In fact, sometimes he swore she actually was there, by his side.

He took a deep breath and aimed again.

“FIRE!”

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

When he came home, he once again saw a basket of supplies.

They always puzzled him. They came at such random, unpredictable intervals, filled with food, a few bottles of milk, several cartridges of bullets, and even occasionally a book, toy, bar of soap, or other extra, but by the time he found them no one was ever there.

He should be grateful. Though he wished someone would explain to him.

Oh well.

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

Days passed, then months.

Once again, on the night of his 9th birthday, Ludwig laid alone, the weak moonlight unable to brighten his gradually deepening pit of despair.

The silence was maddening. He craved for any touch, for any warmth of another person, for anything. But even that simple wish was too much to ask.

He bunched up the worn blanket, the cold, frigid winter air seeping into the cabin.

Every day, he wondered if he was slowly going mad.

Holding a cornflower and his mother’s black cross necklace to his chest, looked out into the moon, to the night sky peeking from a clearing in the trees.

A star shot through the night sky, and Ludwig was quick to make his wish.

I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.

She had always told him that believing in such things was foolish.

But what was the pain in hanging onto the little light he could find?

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

Now’s your time.

Alright. I’m going in. See you.

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

One cold, chilling day, towards the final days of the year he turned 9, Ludwig stepped outside to check his mailbox again.

Snow lightly dusted the ground, softly landing on his old, worn coat.

He had checked his homemade calendar; Sancbruma. Such a lovely holiday. But now, just yet another cold, freezing, lonely day. Oh well. He had known Pater Natalis wasn’t real for years to need confirmation.

But this day, after creaking the old thing open, he found something.

His heart almost stopped.

Immediately, he ripped the envelope often, his heart pounding in his ears, his breath quickening, and he immediately glued his focus to the words, written specially to be understandable to a child.

Ludwig Beilshmidt, we are sorry to inform you that…

Time seemed to stop. He swore his heart stopped.

Dread shot through his body like lightning.

He read on, clinging onto the little hope that still remained with him all those years as they escaped from him, flying away as he fell deeper.

…

…

Tears fell from his face.

She was gone.

She was really gone.

Finally, suppressed despair replaced dread, filling every corner of his mind and body, every nerve, every muscle.

But mixed with it, and eventually almost overpowering it in the concoction of emotion, was wrath.

Pure, unbridled wrath.

He tore the paper and screamed, his screams piercing the serene forest air.

Tears fell from his eyes like a burst dam as he cried into his hands, cursing whoever had killed her, her fate, the cruelty of the gods.

If only he could get his hands on whatever bastard killed her, he would strangle them, he would gouge out their eyes, he would shoot them in the leg and watch them bleed to death, how dare they take his mother away!

He had always been told the best came to those who were patient.

He was proven wrong that day.

All those years, waiting, hoping, hoping for nothing.

Nothing.

His mother was never going to come back. Ever.

Grief, anger, and sadness gripped his small frame as he shook, on the ground, his young brain besieged with intense emotions and reality, dreaded, painful reality.

Don’t cry. How pathetic. Is that how I raised you?

Ludwig forced himself to take deep breaths, desperately fighting his tears and holding back the flow of the concoction of emotions any further.

No, his mother wouldn’t want to see him like this. He couldn’t let her be honored like this.

“Einz, zwei, drei, einz, zwei, drei...”

He took a breath with every word, forcing his emotions back and attempting to lock them away, until finally once again he could think somewhat coherently.

It was here he noticed something perched on the mailbox. 

He looked up. 

An eagle.

A stark-black eagle, its yellow talons sharp enough to pierce skin, its bright, intelligent, fierce eyes a rare violet.

He didn’t notice it before in his panic, but now the dominant emotion in his mind was confusion.

As he sniffled, the eagle cocked its head, staring at Ludwig.

“...An eagle?”

Ludwig’s mind immediately jumped back to the beginning of the year.

I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.

“Are… are you from my Mutter?”

Silence.

Immediately, he embraced the eagle, causing it to screech loudly and flap its powerful wings in shock.

“It’s adorable! I love it Mutter! Thank you!”

The boy’s short arms wrapped around the first living thing it had embraced, nay, touched, in years.

He was actually holding something living. Oh, it had been so long. Oh so long.

He had almost forgotten what it felt like to hold life in his arms, to feel its warmth, to feel its gentle rising and falling, to hear the subtle sounds of another’s breath in his ears.

For the first time in years, despite the unforgiving cold of the winter morning air, warmth reached Ludwig’s heart, happiness brewing with and overpowering now subdued despair and rage.

<Sure… Whatever makes you happy, kid.>

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

“Oy vey… I was too late again.

...This world is fucked.”

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

Ludwig put some meat in front of the raptor, which surely enough soon started picking it apart.

“It’s good right? What should I call you… I’ll have to give you a name.”

He stared at the eagle, deep in thought.

“Oh, I know… Schwarzchen!”

The eagle looked at him.

“You like it? Then Schwarzchen it is!”

<...I didn’t say anything. ’Blackie’? You cannot be serious.>

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

That night was different from usual.

Ludwig pet the bird as it made a nest out of rags beside him, wishing it good night. It had seemed reluctant at first, clearly not used to such close contact but as Ludwig begged it to stay, as if it understood him, it decided to stay with him.

It’s fierce gaze felt protective in the silent darkness, as if his mother really had returned, watching for anything that could harm him. 

Oh, he almost forgot something.

He took his mother’s necklace from his bedside table, putting it around the eagle’s neck.

“There. Perfect. It suits you.”

It squawked. 

“Good night, Schwarzchen.”

That night, sleep came to Ludwig easier than usual, watched by the protective gaze of his new companion.

----------

“Hallo. Kid. Wake up.”

Ludwig awoke, his eyes fluttering open.

Once his eyes focused, he almost yelped in shock.

He was somewhere he didn’t recognize, some formless void; Schwarzchen was nowhere to be seen, nor were the walls of his cabin or even his forest, all that remained was his bed.

In front of him was a man clad in what seemed to be a long white lab coat and some type of mantle, or at least Ludwig assumed, his clothing style almost resembling that in illustrations in one of his novels, ostensibly chronicling ancient legends; but not just any man.

A man who looked almost exactly like how one would imagine Ludwig would look like when he was older, save for his unnatural purple, almost magenta eyes that shined with a calculating glint, a scar under his left.

“H… hallo?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I… Who are you?”

The man smiled at him softly; despite his harsh features, it calmed some of Ludwig’s nerves, just a little.

“That isn’t important. But you’re lonely, right? And it’s causing you pain, yes?”

His voice was deep; much lower than Arendt’s, the only other reference he had for an adult man, surprising Ludwig a bit.

The boy nodded.

The man dug into one of his pockets, taking out a key.

“Here. I’ll be your friend; all you have to do is take the other end of this key, and you won’t feel any of that loneliness and pain any more…”

Tentatively, Ludwig took it.

The boy gasped as he suddenly felt something overwhelming and indescribable other than energy blitz between him and the strange man through the key; it was painless, in fact almost manic energy, bright lights flashing in his vision.

Ludwig woke up.

The boy laid there, his eyes wide, his mind mulling over what he had just seen.

“A dream… it was a dream… Who was that man?”

He turned, and there Schwarzchen was.

“Never mind… Good morning, Schwarzchen.”

<Are you really going with that name?>

Ludwig blinked.

“...Did you just…”

<I thought children were supposed to be creative?>

Ludwig’s eyes widened. He held his head; it seemed to be coming from within his head, like a thought, instead of from his ears.

“...Schwarzchen? Is that you?”

<Yes, this is the eagle. And I have a name.>

Ludwig took a few seconds to process the information.

“...What? ...Mein Gott, I’ve really gone crazy…”

<No. This is real. I’m speaking to you through something called telepathy. Speaking to you through your mind. I could explain all the intricate details but it would probably short-circuit your child brain.>

“I know what it is. But it’s just like in the stories! Wow! I didn’t know they really happened!”

<Well you could say that.>

Ludwig sat up on the side of his bed.

“You keep insulting my naming sense. So what is your name?”

“Schwarzchen” looked him directly in the eyes.

<Well, well, it’s the same as yours, funnily enough. Ludwig.>

“We have the same name? What a coincidence.”

<But I know that is confusing. Just call me Lutz. That is what everyone calls me.>

“Alright… Lutz it is. ...I liked ‘Schwarzchen’ though.”

<...Whatever, kid.>

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

Like that, Ludwig and Lutz became friends.

His 10th birthday had been the best birthday he had in years, even if it was just the two of them.

Over time, Lutz taught the boy how to use telepathy; and without him saying a word, he became a third hand to him, especially in hunting; more meats were amassed with every session, and fruits even from the highest trees were now accessible. 

...Sometimes. Other times, the eagle merely preened itself, telling him to “Do it on his own.”

Ludwig wondered if all eagles were like this. But even then, he didn’t mind. Even if Lutz was a cold, snarky jerk sometimes, it didn’t matter.

Every day, they ate together, went hunting together, bathed together, and at the end of the day slept together.

He could almost forget his loneliness, and the fact that his mother would never return.

Almost.

——————

As Ludwig braced himself on his bed, he once again counted his breaths.

The wrath he felt that day; it was coming back. From within, it seemed to spread to his entire body, to the point it was unbearable.

He would never forget that pain. He couldn’t. But mindless rage was for the foolish.

He wouldn’t forget. But he would remember, silently.

When he looked to Lutz, Lutz didn’t seem afraid at all. He merely stared at him with those violet eyes.

Ludwig embraced Lutz, not letting go.

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

Lutz stared at the young boy as he slept, his chest rising and falling.

<How cute.>

It was easy.

A bit too easy.

What did he expect from a child though.

<Still, would have liked a bit more of a challenge.

Oh well. Sleep tight, kid.

...Though do I always have to be right next to you?>

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

Over the next year, Ludwig grew. Now on the cusp of puberty, he became stronger, he could run faster and further, and he could shoot with more and more accuracy.

On the morning of his 11th birthday, Lutz presented him with a query.

<Kid.>

“Huh? What is it, Lutz?”

<Now that you know that your mother isn’t coming home…>

Ludwig froze.

<Don’t cry on me.>

“I wasn’t going to”

<Yes, yes. In anyway, since you know you mother isn’t coming home, what’s the point staying in this place anymore?>

The boy pondered it.

<I’m a bird and even I know it’s pointless waiting for someone if they’re clearly dead. Well maybe I’m not the one to talk here.>

He was right.

“But… This is all I have ever known.”

<Don’t worry about it. You’re smart. I think. You should find out what to do soon enough.>

“...Jawohl. I don’t know what my purpose is being here forever too… It’s not like this place will disappear either. And it’s not what Mutter would want me to do. ...We’re leaving tonight.”

————-

Ludwig opened his drawer.

There it was; the notice he had torn up all those years ago.

Why did he still have it?

Just so he would never forget, probably.

Ludwig sealed the notice into a pouch before the rage became too much to bear, stuffing it into his bag, going to fetch his clothing. He had a sailor suit saved up for “special occasions”; he hoped he hadn’t outgrown it already.

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

Ludwig looked behind his back one last time to the small cabin, the cornflowers, the trees he had known for his entire 11 years of living.

It felt so odd to know he would be away from it after so long 

He quickly ran back, Lutz grumbling behind him, and picked a few flowers, pressing them between the pages of a book.

<Are you done now?>

“Jawohl. Coming, coming!”

-----------

When Ludwig entered the capital, the little truly important belongings he had on his back, he was in awe.

It bustled with energy, with people, rickety, clanking automobiles and trolleys spewing steam or smoke that made him cough if he went to close, radio commercials resounding through the air, as well as delicious smells the likes of which he hadn’t known in years, some never before, but mixed in with the inexplicable smell of whatever was coming out of the automobiles.

Ludwig wasn’t quite sure whether he liked it or disliked it, but most accurately he would describe it as a strange mix of the two; but more than anything, everything was so new.

He marveled at the sight of a trolley passing by, when he heard honking behind him.

“Get out of the way brat!”

Ludwig stepped back, hopping back to the sidewalk, and an automobile clunked on, its driver looking at him irritated.

But its movements fascinated him, how the machine seemed to move magically, how it seemed to have a life of its own.

“...Where should I even start?”

<Well? Do you have any relatives?>

“Not that I know of.”

Lutz looked to the right. His light of sight led to a small group of children. 

<You could try living on the streets like them for a few days. See where it gets you.>

“...Oh.”

Ludwig sighed. He may as well.

————-

“Shoo! Shoo!”

“No money? We aren’t a charity, sorry.”

“Outta the way!”

————-

Ludwig slept in an alley that night, huddled in his old blanket.

He was so tired. He just remembered he hadn’t slept for an entire day, and it was finally catching up to him.

He had gotten some attention due to being cleaner-looking than the rest, though Lutz was far more charming in their eyes. But more often than not, the overwhelming message in the air was clear; he wasn’t welcome here.

“Lutz?”

<What is it, kid?>

“Why didn’t you tell me I needed money for everything?”

<Didn’t you read about it?>

“I didn’t know it was this necessary.”

<I can’t hold your hand all the time.>

“...Lutz?”

<...What now?>

“There’s so many people here. But I still feel so alone.”

<Well at least you got some to get through the night. Don’t be choosy.>

“Jawohl… Good night.”

————

Seeing no reason not to, Ludwig had decided to explore the city a bit more the next morning, after having helped himself and Lutz to a piece of bread and some beef jerky he had bought, plus the miscellaneous items he had been given the day before.  

After a long while of walking, taking in the different sights, from the historical landmarks and building to new projects, some even in the midst of being built, neatly separated or together, working in at times harmonious and at times chaotic tandem. Every so often he saw stray animals run about. After some time he started to see schoolchildren, some about his age, run to school with their friends, adults dressed in suits on their way to work.

Until, Ludwig started to feel the air change.

It felt somewhat... sticky? The breeze seemed stronger. And inexplicably salty.

For he had reached the city harbor. Birds, they were called seagulls he believed, cawed above. Fishermen had far since left the dock, and in the distance, trade ships were being loaded to go who knows where. And they were floating on a vast, open field of water, water, nothing but water.

“Lutz... is this...”

<The ocean? What, you don’t even know what the ocean is?>

He had heard his mother’s stories about the ocean; while she had never been a woman of the seas per se, she was in the army, not the navy after all, he had heard her describe growing up near it. It was odd thinking that she, too, had been a child once like him.

This ocean was to her like the forest was to him, quite possibly.

She had also spoken about a rumor; a rumor that a wish put into a bottle and cast into the sea would, eventually, be granted. She had dismissed it as childish of course. And she did say that she much preferred the land after growing up.

Though according to Onkel Arendt, she would at times, despite this, just go to her childhood home, staring out into the eternal ocean.  

He wondered what she had thought as her red eyes stared out into the distant horizon, the salty breeze flowing through her silver-white hair. 

It was strange, imagining his mother like that. The sea was so free, almost careless; the complete opposite of her. But maybe that was exactly what drew her to it.

Ludwig started running along the dock, letting Lutz chase him, the briny wind rushing past him and through his hair. People had started to come to swim, and the city was starting to fully come to life.

Even if life was hard, at least he had some way of entertaining himself when everything was so brand new.

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

One day, a duo of teenagers spotted Ludwig.

And being the thugs they were, Ludwig suddenly found himself in confrontation with two kids much larger, older, and stronger than he; even if Ludwig was tougher than most 11-year-olds, these two seemed to be about 14 at least, if not, and probably, 15.

“Hey street rat, where’s your mutti?!”

Ludwig tried not to pay them any heed, even if he bristled at the rude words.

“...What business do you have with me?”

The shorter one grabbed him by the collar.

“I asked you a question, shorty!”

After the initial shock and fear, Ludwig felt a flash of anger. His fists clenched as he tried to struggle his way out. And worst of all was that he couldn’t do anything.

<Kid. Listen.>

“What?!”

<Listen to me. Tell me to “Intimidate”. Now. Don’t ask questions.>

“Of course! ...Intimidate, Lutz!”

————-

Ludwig stood there, dumbfounded at what he had just witnessed, as the teenagers ran away, screaming “DEMON BIRD! DEMON BIRD!”

Lutz flew back and perched on his head, looking terribly bored, as if nothing had happened.

“How… how…”

<I’m a Very Amazing Bird, you could say.>

————

A week passed; Ludwig counted, as he always valued timekeeping, no matter what. The other street children left him alone, eyeing him strangely. Occasionally, he heard extortionists threatening some unfortunate soul.

That was when, however, Lutz told him something vital.

<Hey. Have you ever considered asking the police if you have any relatives?>

Ludwig looked at the eagle perched on his arm, puzzled.

“What?”

Lutz pointed a wing at a building.

<There. It says “POLIZEI”. Can’t you read?>

“...Why? Won’t they throw me in jail or something?”

<Actually they have records too. They might have your mother’s family on file.>

Lutz looked to see Ludwig’s dumbfounded face staring back at him.

“...Why didn’t you tell me that?!”

He took flight and landed on his head, preening himself. 

<Thought it would be interesting to observe you. Also don’t be too loud. Everyone will think you’re a crazy person.>

Ludwig took a look around, and indeed there were some passerbys staring at him.

Ludwig loudly sighed, his palm on his face.

“...Fine. Thanks anyway.”

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

“Your name?”

“Ludwig Beilshmidt.”

The officers looked at him for a few seconds.

“...As in Julia Beilshmidt? General Julia Beilshmidt?”

“Jawohl.”

They were in shock.

“...Excuse me? Is something wrong?”

“Erm… We apologize. Ja.”

“Do I have any relatives? I need some place to stay.”

“...Ja. We will search immediately. Please wait here. But it may take a while.”

————-

“Hallo? Is this the police? Why must you be calling?”

“Well, you see, sir… It appears that a relative of yours has suddenly shown up out of nowhere. ...He claims to be Beilshmidt’s son.”

“...Mein Gott. Julchen did say she had a son… I knew she wasn’t the type who should be able to take care of a child. I will be there as soon as I can.”

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

<This is boring.>

“I know, Lutz. Shut up.”

Lutz did something that resembled a yawn.

“He should be here soon-”

It was then that the door to the police station opened with just enough force to be noticeable without slamming.

Standing there was a dark brown-haired gentleman with a large, curly cowlick, probably in his thirties, most likely affluent from his clothing.

“Excuse me, I hear there was someone waiting for me here?”

Ludwig stood up, and their eyes met.

“Hallo. ...You are Ludwig?”

He adjusted his glasses, then his tie.

“Ja?”

He looked him over.

“Ah, I can see some of the resemblance. Though you’re actually somewhat adorable, unlike her.”

“...Is that an insult against her?”

Realizing his mistake, the man cleared his throat.

“Ah, sorry.”

He outstretched his hand.

“I am Herr Roderich Edelmann. Your mother’s cousin. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you, but it is nice being able to see you with my own two eyes.”

Ludwig took the hand, shaking it.

“Ludwig Beilshmidt. Nice to meet you, Sir.”

Then, suddenly, Roderich’s formal facade dropped and he pulled the boy into a hug.

“You’re so precious! You may call me Onkel Roderich! Don’t worry, we will take great care of you!”

Lutz looked on in amusement as Ludwig’s cries of shock became muffled in the man’s chest.

Ludwig was flabbergasted. It had been so long since he had been hugged. He only could relive them in his memories, and they weren’t frequent, but here he was, feeling it yet again, surrounded by warmth; he didn’t know how to process it.

But if there was one emotion he was certain about as the man smoothed his hair and cooed over him, it was that he felt loved.

————-

Ludwig held on tightly as the automobile rocked around them. Roderich didn’t seem to mind it whatsoever, but Ludwig had only heard of an automobile once, and had seen, much less ridden, none. Roderich was happy to make him comfortable next to him though, warning him whenever a bump or “pothole” was coming up.

“But really… What is such a magnificent eagle doing with you? A black Strix no less?”

<Someone called?>

“Black Strix?”

“You don’t know? They’re an exceedingly rare species! And this one is such a beautiful dark coal hue; I’ve always been partial to Black Strixes, they’re said to have a particularly strong mystical power.”

“I didn’t know he could be more special... His name is Lutz.”

“...Lutz? As in…”

“Jawohl.”

Roderich looked puzzled.

“Erm… Mutter named him.”

Roderich huffed.

“Ah, Julchen, of course...”

“He was my last Sancbruma present from her before she died.”

Roderich quieted for a few seconds.

“Oh… I see. We will accommodate him too. Do not worry. ...Also, no need to ‘jawohl’ around me.”

“Jawo… ja.”

—————

Onkel Roderich was a renowned musician; he was a master of many instruments and even knew how to compose, but his main forte was the piano. He was sought after for his talents across the land.  

And he had the house to show it as well.

“Welcome to your new home, Ludwig.”

Ludwig took it all in; the house was already larger than average compared to others in town, and as a boy who had grown up in a small log cabin all his life, it seemed especially enormous.

A woman with long, light brown hair came up to them, looking from Roderich to Ludwig.

“Ah, Erzsébet! This is my nephew, Ludwig. He will be staying with us from now on.”

Roderich bent his knees so he was at Ludwig’s level.

“Ludwig, this is Erzsébet, my wife.”

“H… hallo. Nice to meet you, Tante Erzsébet.”

Ludwig outstretched his hand.

The woman merely eyed him for a few seconds.

“Hallo. I guess.”

She said, gruffly, with a distinctly foreign accent.

Roderich sighed.

“Erzsébet, why do you have to be like this?”

“Why do we have to take in this ratty-looking kid?”

Ludwig scowled.

“Hey!”

Roderich held Ludwig closer, glaring at her.

“Erzsébet! He’s a child! Have you no heart?!”

“Fine, fine.”

She shook his hand, roughly.

“But wow, an eagle! A Strix no less?! I didn’t think I’d ever be able to see one!”

Lutz merely yawned.

Ludwig couldn’t help but snicker as an unamused frown crept across Erzsébet’s face.

“...Whatever. Make yourself at home I guess.”

She walked off.

“Prepare the bath and extra room for the boy! Come on now!”

Roderich commanded, and soon after servants bowed and quickly ran upstairs in single file.

“Don’t mind my wife. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic to hear from you. But she will warm up to you eventually. Though… you are in need of new clothes, aren’t you?”

He gave the boy a once-over, making Ludwig look down to his old, beaten-up and washed out child-sized military uniform.

“Sadly, we do not have any clothes your size as of now. I will have a servant hire the tailor immediately. Meanwhile I will order them to wash what you have now.”

<He’s awfully happy to see you, isn’t he?>

“Ja… he seems like a nice person.”

————

That might, Ludwig had the best dinner he had ever had.

He could only marvel at the dishes in front of him; even those he had heard of before looked so refined. And there was so much of it! The variety of bread available in particular was amazing.

But he couldn’t let himself forget his discipline. Even if it took all his willpower not to start gorging himself on everything like he had been possessed by some demon of gluttony.

“Onkel, what is this?”

“A chocolate torte, you see. A type of cake.”

Ludwig remembered actually having a cake a grand total of once. He still remembered its sweetness so well and it was probably the best thing he ever had eaten. And then there were two other things he had only read about before.

...And Lutz seemed unusually interested in it.

He couldn’t blame him though, it’s aroma was mesmerizing to Ludwig’s senses.

“Chocolate? Is that what the brown is?”

“You have never had chocolate before?! Mein Gott, Julchen, What have you done?”

Ludwig was quick to take a bite, and he froze.

The mellow, deep sweetness melted on his tongue, spreading throughout his mouth in such an indescribably perfect way, a tinge of bitterness within that instead of detracting from the experience, somehow harmonized with the sweetness in such a heavenly way.

“...Ludwig?”

“...It’s amazing.”

Roderich seemed somewhat amused by how floored the boy was.

“Even your mother was quite a fan.”

<Hey, hey. Kid.>

Ludwig was surprised by the unusual agitation in Lutz’s thoughts. He didn’t think he had ever heard anything like it before.

“Lutz? What is-“

<I need it. Now. Don’t ask questions!>

Ludwig almost panicked, giving a piece to the impatient eagle.

“Ludwig!”

“I… erm… It was unfair to have it to myself!”

“...Is chocolate even safe for eagles?”

Erzsébet questioned.

“Wait wha-“

<Don’t worry. ... Ahh, bliss...>

Ludwig smiled nervously.

“He’ll be fine.”

The couple just stared, confused.

“Erm…”

“Trust me! I know him well. ...Can I have more? Please?”

“Absolutely.”

His face absolutely lit up at that, and in the corner of his vision Ludwig saw quite possibly the most genuine expression of joy he had seen from Lutz in all the time he knew him.

“Why’s it that everyone in your family loves chocolate so much?”

Erzsébet asked as her husband took another piece.

“Why don’t you is the better question.”

“...Actually, yup, you two definitely are related. Leave some for me though!”

————

Roderich doted on the boy; he made sure he had the nicest clothes and the nicest food that he could afford.

He had made sure the room was in absolute best condition, that his pillows were always fluffed and bed always made, even if Ludwig insisted he wanted to do it on his own.

He taught him everything about the basics of civilization, how to read more complex sentences, how to play the piano and the violin, even how to dance. He took him with him to work, across the city and sometimes even country to places he had at best read about and to meet so many new people.

His next Sanctbruma and 12th birthday were the most extravagant he had ever had.

Yet…

Yet something was missing.

Despite the man’s kindness, he felt something wasn’t right. Ludwig couldn’t put a finger on what, and he felt awful about it to be sure; he did so much for him, what more could a boy ask for?

But yet…

Sure, Erzsébet never completely warmed up to him; even if she wasn’t as cold to him, according to Lutz she was merely tolerating him. And the same was true for many of the servants.

But that didn’t change the fact that Roderich himself was nothing but loving towards him. Even if he had curfews and other such rules, he never had trouble with rules. His mother raised him to obey rules. And while he was often busy, he still tried his best to spend time with him.

Finally, he actually had someone who resembled a parent after all those years. He should have been thankful.

But he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Someone had to be doing something wrong.

At times, he still lay awake at night, those lonely days and nights and that fateful Sanctbruma playing back in his mind; as well as the accompanying emotions of pure hatred and wrath.

Once, Roderich has entered the room at an inopportune time to Ludwig curled up in his bed, seething, growling at him to leave him alone.

While he didn’t say anything about it at dinner, it was obvious he was disturbed by it.

“...Lutz. Why can’t I be happy? I still feel alone, but I don’t even know why.”

<Maybe you’ve been alone for too long. You’re past the point of return, kid. Maybe you should come to peace with it.>

“At least I have you.”

<Whatever.>

———

“Ludwig.”

“Ja, Onkel Roderich?”

The man sighed.

“It has been over a year since you started living with us. What is it with your standoffish behavior? Is something wrong? I will listen to it.”

“...I just can’t, Onkel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I… Something just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know why.”

The man looked so disappointed.

“I try my best to make you happy, Ludwig. I really do. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to satisfy your needs.”

“Nein. It isn’t that.”

Roderich shook his head.

“As I was saying… the chords for this piece are…”

—————

Ludwig continued to do his practice drills whenever possible, even if they had taken a different shape; makeshift targets became proper shooting galleries, improvised exercises became possible using an open space between buildings and proper equipment. And as he grew more and more by the day, his physical abilities took leaps and bounds above what he had been capable of before. He just wished he could go more than weekly. At first, Roderich objected, but it didn’t take long for him to cave in.

After all, he had to keep himself in shape, especially as he now had access to all the candy and chocolate that could be plausibly afforded.

After a while, Roderich started to continuously try to ask him to consider other options in this weekly time slot. He was never too forceful, however. And after a while, as Ludwig expressed his clear annoyance, it finally ceased just as it had begun.

There was another episode that irked Ludwig.

One night, as he went to get a glass of water, he had seen Roderich, seemingly sneaking away from his room.

“...Onkel?”

The man bristled as soon as he turned on the lights.

“Erm… Ludwig, I didn’t expect you to be awake..

Then, Ludwig saw it.

In his hands was his mother’s necklace.

“...What are you doing with Mutter’s necklace?”

He immediately stuffed it inside his pocket and turned around, a fake smile on his face.

“What necklace, my dear Ludwig?”

“I know you’re hiding it.”

The man sighed, taking it back out again.

“I… I wanted to put it in a place it will be safer in.”

Ludwig tried not to grill him further, even as he felt something fueled by doubt start to boil within him.

“I’m sure it will be safe with me. It’s been so for all the years I’ve had it. Can I have it back now?”

“...Ja.”

Ludwig swiftly took it back, going down to get his glass. He really needed one.

“You could tell a servant to get it for you?”

“No. I prefer to do it on my own.”

When Ludwig had returned to his room, he had quite the things to say to Lutz.

“Lutz. Why did you let him take it?”

<I was sleepy, kid. Why do you care about that thing so much?>

“It’s from Mutter. You should know. ...Lutz. If anything, protect this with your life.”

<Oh come on now.>

“I’m serious. It’ll be the last thing I ask of you.”

<Alright, alright. Whatever.>

“You aren’t sincere, are you?”

<What do you want from me? Good night.>

——————

One day, as Ludwig overheard some servants speaking to each other in hushed voices, glancing at him every so often.

He was able to catch two things; “...Mister Edelmann” and “barren”.

He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. But for whatever reason he didn’t like the sound of it.

That night, after some shouting, once again Roderich stormed out of the master bedroom, telling Erzsébet to “Get a hold of yourself already, you indecipherable woman!”, to his own separate room, as Erzsébet shouted some words back that sounded really angry and probably inappropriate.

<There goes the lovely couple.>

Lutz thought, as Ludwig tried to sleep. Lutz, meanwhile, had no trouble.

————

13-year-old Ludwig stood outside of the bar, alongside Lutz, as always, and other members of his gang.

It was in a seedy, rough part of town. And it was where their rival gang frequented most often.

It wasn’t the most well-to-do of bars, to say the least; as soon as they entered, the air smelt pungently of alcohol, and ambiently of various nasties.

<Ergh. What a dump.>

They immediately saw their target; the offending gang’s leader.

Their leader went up to confront her rival, fists clearly ready to fly.

“Hey! We know ya killed him!”

“Who?”

The rival boss said, with a cheeky grin.

“Ya know who!”

The two continued to escalate their argument, until they became close to blows.

“Enough yammerin’! Get ‘em, boys n’ girls!”

Suddenly, they were grabbed by the rival gang bangers, including Ludwig, who held back a yelp, Lutz flying into the air.

“Come back, ya stupid bird!”

“We didn’t kill one of yer ratpack, asshole! Now get out or we’re gonna force ya out!”

“...You better tell us.”

Ludwig said, tersely, utilizing his now lowering voice and copying his mother’s tone.

The rival boss laughed.

“Or what, kid? What are ya gonna do, huh? Man your recruiting standards have gone down!”

His boss smirked.

“Ya better listen to the kid.”

“Or what?”

They laughed uproariously.

“Lutz. Restrain.”

Their laughing instantly stopped, their faces going sheet white, all the other bar patrons, the bartender, and staff turning to gawk.

For they bore witness to the gang boss being pinned down, on the floor, between the talons of a giant, terrifying raptor straight out of hell, its eyes glowing, its beak as sharp as an ice pick, with which it screeched in the unfortunate gangster’s terrified face.

Ludwig walked up to the rival boss with measured steps, the gangsters holding him having let go out of sheer terror, the thumping of his feet the only sounds other than his companion’s breathing and the squeaks and sputtering from bystanders and rival gangsters, and pulled out his old pistol, aiming it at the thug’s head, glaring daggers so sharp that they could gouge eyes out.

Show your enemy no mercy.

Once again, he thought he heard his mother's voice in his ear.

“Tell us the truth.”

The rival boss sputtered, shaking like a leaf, looking awfully smaller than the much younger boy.

“We… we… d-d-di…”

Ludwig cocked his pistol.

“Speak in a real language!”

The rival boss flinched, and the rest of the rival gang huddled, terrified.

“W-we didn’t do anything! I-I swear! I swear!”

Ludwig lowered his pistol slightly.

“...Really?”

“J-ja! I swear! I swear by both the Heavenly and Hellish Yards! P-p-please let me go, Sir!”

“...Alright. Lutz, release.”

The eagle shrank back down to size, returning to his perch on Ludwig’s outstretched arm.

His boss grumbled.

“Whoop. That was pointless. Lud, let’s get outta this dump.”

They turned to leave, the other people in the bar still staring at them.

“W-Wait.”

Ludwig and his boss turned back to the humiliated rival boss.

“We might’ve not killed ‘im. But I-I have a good idea who might’ve.”

———-

“So, Lud. Good job today. We’ve got ourselves a lead.”

“Jawohl.”

Their boss patted Ludwig on the head and gave the group a once-over.

“Ok. You’re all dismissed.”

Ludwig was quick to leave, the others staring after him.

“What’s it with him? I swear, it’s like he doesn’t wanna be associated with us.”

“He said something about a curfew.”

“Really? Kid still follows curfews? What is he, 10?”

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

When Ludwig came back, Roderich was waiting for him.

“Ludwig.”

“Onkel Roderich?”

Roderich’s expression was serious and stern.

“...What have you been doing?”

“What do you mean, Onkel Roderich?”

Roderich held Ludwig’s shoulders.

“Let me state this plainly.”

He took a deep breath.

“You’re involved in gang activity, aren’t you?”

Ludwig was in shock.

“How…”

Roderich shook his head, his hand on his forehead.

“Ludwig. I am sure even Julchen taught you to obey rules.”

“I… I don’t want to depend on you for everything. I feel like a leech.”

Roderich was shocked.

“You’re only 13, Ludwig! It is alright! It isn’t worth putting yourself at risk like this!”

“I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Roderich shook his head.

“Don’t say that. You could deliver newspapers, or use those piano skills I taught you-“

“And they’re my friends.”

“Friends?! I care for you, why do you need them?! Do you even know any of their names?!”

“...”

“You’re going to get into trouble eventually, young man.”

“I… I know!”

Roderich flinched.

Ludwig looked down and stormed back into the house, into his room, throwing himself onto his bed.

“Hmph, teenagers...”

Erzsébet mumbled.

—————-

“Ludwig?”

Roderich opened the door to Ludwig’s room that night, peeking in.

Ludwig couldn’t bare to look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry.”

Roderich sighed.

“Is it because I’m not Julchen?”

The boy felt a pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry! I don’t hate you, I’m thankful for what you’ve done, and-”

“I see. Just try to forget about her, alright?”

Ludwig froze. He felt like someone had stabbed his heart.

“But…”

“I do so much for you. I give you everything. What was it that she had that I don’t? I’ve been a far better parent than that stone-hearted, cruel, cold-”

<Oh no. You’ve done it now.>

“DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT MY MUTTER!”

His voice cracked terribly, but he didn’t care.

Roderich stumbled back, his face pale, horrified.

Silence.

“Ludwig… I’m sorry.”

Ludwig buried his face into his pillows.

“...I’ll tell the servants to bring you dinner. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Leave me alone!”

“...I’m happy with any path you want to take. Just please stay safe.”

Roderich sighed and closed the door.

From that day on, Roderich started informing Ludwig of where police may find him, and locations of stations across the city. Anything for his safety, he had said.

But from that day on Ludwig knew; he knew that his suspicions were true, that all this time he was trying to make him forget about his mother. He couldn’t let that happen. It was only confirmation when he heard him brutally disparage her one night in a drunken stupor during one of his binge-drinking sessions.

Once again, Ludwig could trust no one.

And once again, wrath simmered within him.

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

Their boss summoned Ludwig and the rest of the gang to a gathering; to sort out their clues, they had said.

Ludwig was appreciated for his abilities; but outside of the action, he sat somewhat removed from the rest. He couldn’t connect with them much either.

His mother had despised lawbreakers; “scum”, “rats”, she would call them. If she knew what he was doing now, she would have caned his palms until they were raw and bleeding. She would have told him he was better than this. He never would have imagined he could stoop this low too. After all, he was his mother’s only son. He should have been destined for greatness.

Quite honestly, he didn’t fully understand what he was doing here either. How did he even get here? Was it just a business affair? Were they really his friends? 

Maybe it was because this was the closest thing to military service he could find. Even if it were on the other side of the law.

A girl a year or so older than him, the second youngest in the gang, came up to him attempting to speak to him. Ludwig hesitated, but in the end continued to be fascinated with the clues they had and Lutz.

“Hey give up on Herr Stick-In-The-Mud already! Bet he’s never even kissed a girl!”

A gangster said, using the nickname they often used when ribbing him.

“What’s with him? He to good for us?” One of them muttered when Ludwig refused a drink.  

“Ja. Imagine being one of us and caring about drinking ages. Never can understand Herr Stick-In-The-Mud.”

“Ja. Where was he raised, His Majesty’s Elite Imperial Barracks?”

“Hey, hey, did you hear that Boss might have the hots for him too?”

“Why don’t you fuckwits shut the fuck up?” Their boss barked at the last one. “The kid’s basically an infant!”

<You’re the most rule-bound gangster I’ve ever seen.>

“Why do they treat it as a bad thing?”

<You’re the one who joined a street gang, genius. They’ve got different rules.>

Ludwig looked at the bottle of cheap moonshine he had been offered again, sighed, and took a gulp.

He immediately gagged.

The last time he’d had booze was when Roderich had allowed him to try beer, and even then he had basically diluted half of it with water and it definitely didn’t taste like... whatever this bottle of horse urine was.

“Ack! This is awful! ...I did it, are you happy now?”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Doesn’t count! He gagged!”

Ludwig took a deep breath.

“Let’s get back on topic. We are discussing the murder of a fellow comrade. This is no time for inane chatter.”

Finally, the air became solemn.

“Ja, reasonable, I guess…”

“Now, onto the information Scout 2 gathered...”

—————-

Ludwig, more than anything, considered himself a logical person.

He and his mother both despised vagueness. It seemed pointless, really, all the dancing around the true meaning of your words in the name of “politeness”. While apparently many in this part of the continent were considered similarly blunt and practical, it seemed even then he was exceptional.

So his own emotional turmoil, how he could never seem to explain himself, frustrated him more than anyone else. It angered him.

But one thing he knew for sure was that he looked forward to stopping by the library on the way home. Thank goodness Roderich had taught him to read to a level more appropriate for his age; it was difficult at first, but he was also fortunately a fast learner.

He always had taken a fascination with the sciences. They were at first glance unpredictable, but once broken down and observed, logical. They made sense, they were rational. Recently, he started finding them more investing than fiction, in fact. And his new reading skills finally made the higher levels of it beyond simplistic drawings attempting to explain the laws of physics and magic accessible.

Which was why today he sat outside the library in his usual spot, looking through a medical encyclopedia, munching on one of many bars of dark chocolate and a small loaf of bread.

Lutz nibbled on pieces of chocolate Ludwig had given him, peeking from above him.

“HERS?”

<Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome.>

Ludwig looked to Lutz in shock.

<A rare genetic, psychiatric disorder with no known cause. Those afflicted by Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome, a Hereditary Evil Raiser, or HER, is said to be at their core an incarnation of malice, "programmed" to destroy the gods, everything they created and everything related to them. Therefore, as a natural prerequisite, they typically show extreme cruelty and having the compulsion to increase their own kind and ensure the continuation of their "mission" to spread malice by any means necessary, taking immense pleasure in doing so. Currently there is no known cure, though in high-functioning individuals it may be managed, and manifest in lesser ways.>

“How…”

<I have my ways.>

He flew off, now by his side. 

“Though… Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome? Who names this stuff?”

<Hey. They probably had their reasons.>

“Why do you care? Did you come up with it?”

<Maybe. Plus, that’s rich coming from the kid who literally named me “Blackie”.>

Ludwig sighed.

“I... Fine. And wait... are you reading with me?”

<Yeah, I can read. I never told you?>

Ludwig continued to stare at him.

“I... I just didn’t think you would...”

<Turn the page already. I already know this.>

"Maybe you could try reading a novel, Lutz?”

<Don’t care. Why should I care about what you flesh-apes think, much less fake ones? No one in the world knows what I’m thinking anyway.>

Ludwig closed the encyclopedia.

“You mean you feel that no one understands you, right?”

Lutz stared at him. 

His words struck him like a spark of lightning.

“That makes two of us”

An awkward few moments passed. For once in his life, Lutz had nothing to retort back.

Why was he so shocked?

Ludwig blinked, confused.

“Lutz? What’s wrong?”

<...Nothing.>

Lutz didn’t know what he had just felt.

“That makes two of us” 

It should have meant nothing, coming from this brat.

But yet...

Whatever. It probably still meant nothing.

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

“We’ve got our guy! Rich bastard’s not gonna know what hit ‘im.”

Their boss said, confidently, gesturing to an assassin she had bought into their abandoned factory hideout.

The assassin looked across the crowd of gangsters.

“So. Which one of you brats wants to come?”

“Actually, we’ve got a good clue already for who’s gonna be a good fit for this mission.”

Ludwig waited, anxiously. He would gladly take the job of avenging his fallen comrade, of course.

“Ludwig!”

Ludwig stood to attention.

“...You’ll be providing nice clothes for us to blend in!”

Ludwig was speechless.

“How… Why?”

<Turns out you aren’t as tough as you thought. Better luck next time, kid.>

But when all had left, he went up to his boss. He needed answers.

“Why am I excluded?”

She looked at him as if he was stupid.

“I don’t think ‘Giant Enemy Bird’ is a viable weapon to use on a cruise ship.”

“But… I can shoot well too! You said I was a great marksman!”

“You’re good. Gotta say that. Still, don’t know about your skills in stealth yet. Can’t risk it. Now, see ya.”

Then, she abruptly cut him off and left.

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

Three days later, Ludwig and the rest of the gang not chosen for the plot awaited at the dock.

Soon, they spotted the assassination party, coming towards them.

One person was clearly missing.

“Hey! Boss! ...Boss? And where’s...”

Her face was dire.

“Shot dead. ...He spotted us. He saw all our faces. All of you are fucked. We’re all fucked.”

More silence.

“...WHAT?!”

Silence immediately gave way to panic.

Ludwig stood, frozen.

“How… Why…”

He clutched his head, overwhelmed.

“But it can’t…”

Emotions swirled inside the boy, overpowering all of his senses, all of his thoughts.

What was going to happen to him? His friends?

“No, no, no, nonononononono…”

<You know what to do, kid.>

Suddenly, he bolted.

Along the harbor, he ran.

Then, in a burst of emotion and without much thought, as if on instinct, he acted immediately as Lutz took off high into the sky, preparing to dive.

“SIC ‘EM, LUTZ!”

He didn’t even bother with the telepathy.

Everyone could only look on in shock and horror as monstrous, pitch-black wings appeared in the sky, seemingly not completely solid and with a godlike glow; to those who were watching from afar, it would have looked as if a demon raptor had materialized out of thin air.

The ship was no match. Before anyone could fully comprehend what was going on, the ship was swooped up into the talons of the avian monstrosity, and crushed into pieces, every single person on it with it.

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

Ludwig walked back to the gang, who all stood staring at him, utterly horrified.

Finally, someone broke the silence.

“...Holy shit.”

Another turned to him, their eyes wide.

“...Lud? Did you just…”.

The boy’s mind was blank. What could he even say?

He had killed all of them. Every single one of them.

But in the end...

“Mission accomplished…?”

“Am I trippin’?”

“Did we just witness a massacre?”

“...What the fuck?”

Ludwig took a deep breath.

“But we accomplished our mission. ...I did what I had to do.”

“Ja, but… Holy shit.”

“In anyway…”

Their boss cleared her throat.

“Let’s… Let’s go with this loot before the cops find out.”

The rest could only muster a “Ja” in unison.

Lutz flew up to Ludwig, as unbothered as always.

“Lutz…”

<Just did as I was told. Don’t complain to me. Here.>

In the raptor’s talons was a doll; an eerily faceless, unusual, porcelain-ish doll of indeterminable gender.

<Here. I brought a present.>

“What is…”

<Have it. Since I can’t give you Sancbruma presents, here it is, months early.>

“It’s… it’s probably from a dead child, Lutz!”

<Don’t be ungrateful. Oh, and your buddies are waiting. You should go.>

“...Ja. I did what I had to do. We killed him. That’s all that should matter…”

————-

The news of the shipwreck was all over the radio. They had listened to it in their hideout, huddled around the device.

“The perpetrator is currently unknown. However, many claim to have heard the voice of a boy or young man scream for the bird to attack…”

————-

When Ludwig came home, Roderich was standing in front of the door, in shock.

“Ludwig…”

“Onkel?”

“...It was you wasn’t it?”

Ludwig looked down to his feet.

“Lutz, specifically…”

<Hey.>

Roderich pulled him into a protective embrace.

“You could have put yourself in so much danger! What if the police find out about you?! Don’t you dare do that again.”

"...”

Roderich pulled him in.

“Now, come in before someone recognizes you.”

—————

Roderich rarely ever let him join the rest of the gang since that day; it was too dangerous, he had said.

He went out mostly in a dark hood for a disguise, at times without Lutz, for over the radio, one expert had identified the terror bird as “a black Strix transformed with powerful magic.”

Later that year, a month before Sancbruma and two months before his 14th birthday, he had heard something unusual.

<Ludwig… Ludwig…>

“Huh?”

Telepathy. But Lutz wasn’t with him; it came from the doll in his bag.

Ever since that fateful day, Lutz had told him to carry it for some vague reason he couldn’t understand; his alleged simple explanation was “It’s amusing to see you carry around a girly doll like that.”

<Ludwig...>

He took the bag off his back and looked in. 

<Someone is after you. You have been found out. You must run.>

“What?! How do you…”

<Do not ask. Please, please run… you must.>

He slung it back over his shoulder.

“Lutz!”

He had to get Lutz. Now.

But by the time he had gotten home, it was too late.

“No, Sir, he is not here. You will not find him here…”

“There he is!”

Two figures stood with Roderich; two figures he didn’t recognize.

A tanned, hazel-eyed, otherwise unassuming man with his hair tied back and in a partially unbuttoned shirt, probably from the south of the continent, turned his attention away from Roderich, and pointed at Ludwig, gun in hand.

“Ludwig Beildshmidt! You’re under arrest!”

Ludwig’s eyes widened. Emotions and stress once again blitzed through him.

“Lutz! Restrain! ...Lutz? Lutz?!”

His eyes darted next to the man to the other figure, what Ludwig thought to be a long-haired, somewhat tall foreign woman in eastern attire, her dark, raven hair pulled back into a ponytail; seemingly holding Lutz back without touching the bird, but clearly struggling.

“Hurry!”

She shouted, in a foreign accent Ludwig didn’t recognize.

Ludwig bolted.

“Don’t you dare, you-“

“Herr Edelmann! Stop, you’re interfering with police procedure!”

“Don’t touch him!”

The mysterious man finally shoved the other man off him and gave chase, but Roderich grappling with him had given him some extra time...

“Ludwig! RUN! RUN!”

But before Ludwig could escape, all of a sudden he was blindsided by a third person, jumping on his back and pinning him down, the boy’s small body no match for the adult.

“LUDWIG!”

“Let me go, LET ME GO!”

That was the last thing he remembered saying before he had been slammed on the back of the head.

Ludwig blacked out.

To be continued in part 2...

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Author’s notes:

So I had to split this thing in half since it became much longer than I expected. Wow this is a monster. You will see the parts listed here after I write them. Parts, because this will have two different routes! Hopefully! Then again it seems like no one read this...

Also, the scene with the sea is even more ambiguous “canon” in this already ambiguously “canon” story, but I wanted to write it in because I liked it, having seen the idea that Prussia has some kind of connection to the sea before and liking it. I wish I could find it now. I think Alt-Prussia would have grown up with the sea when he was younger, and while he would stay very strictly a land fighter (in fact the Prussian navy was never all that good, being mostly a merchant fleet. Even the German navy, while it did go through a growth period in the 1880s in competition with Britain I believe, by WWII at least their Kriegsmarine kind of sucked. It’s why the invasion of Britain never happened, their navy would have been laughably curbstomped), and I still associate England, Netherlands, or Portugal way more with the ocean, maybe the North Sea has some kind of soothing effect on him.

Also adorable child!Germany is adorable. Why do I love this kid so much? Why is he so damn cute?!

(This is an alternate version of “Key to Zorn!”. You may read either version, as the differences are mostly superficial, but I thought this version may be more fitting considering how I write Alt-Germany)

[Summary: Crossover with the Wrath arc of the Evillious Chronicles. Everyone is searching for their very own Happy Ending... But where is his, if it exists at all?

Young Ludwig Beilshmidt lives alone in a cabin, waiting for the return of his mother. But one winter morning, a certain, seemingly chance encounter, changes his life forever, leading his life to become increasingly entangled with much larger plans...]

(Yes, lame summary, but I didn’t know how to write it without spoilers. The same text as the original is copy-pasted below)

Couldn’t come up with a better title.

Okay… so… holy hell.

This is the longest fic I’ve ever written. And it isn’t even finished.

I thought “Superbia” was long. But… I outdid myself. Over FORTY FREAKIN’ PAGES IN GOOGLE DOCS. And again, this is not finished, I’m splitting it so I at least have the hope of releasing something! With two routes! This is a novel, folks!

I’m probably going to repost this for the Christmas event since I want as much people to see them as possible. Because there are some Christmas elements here. So yeah, you can take this as an early Christmas fic too.

This will be a movie, folks. Grab a seat and some popcorn.

Also, look, it’s goddamn Ludwig torment again! For the fourth time in the span of a month! And this might just be the most elaborate way I’ve tormented the poor guy yet. But I didn’t really have many options.

So I wanted to enter Mirror Week, but in the main canons write in, Alt-talia and Hetalia Emblem, I haven’t come up with any use for 2Ps, and in the former case I can’t see how I could use them.

However, there was one Alt-talia spin-off AU I had been thinking they would exist on; I didn’t know whether I wanted to release media to it so early, and due to a reason I will explain in a moment, I was reluctant to release media about it in general. But… I went with it.

This is my Evillious Chronicles AU. Yes, an AU of an AU. What about that.

Basically, the Evillious Chronicles is what started as a series of Vocaloid songs telling a much larger story; it has since ballooned into a vast, tangled network of light novels and other such media. It’s as confusing as it sounds. Some of you may have heard of the songs “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil”; those were the first songs to be released in that series. Those two songs weren’t self-contained, oh no.

The thing is, for this AU I wanted to write just based on the seven sin songs (and Servant of Evil), with accompanying Hetaloid covers, and leave the rest of the story up to the audience. I’m still planning on that. However, I still wanted to enter the event, so here I am presenting a version of events for one of the arcs; however, it is merely the route that hews closest to Evillious canon from what I can gather of it. So yeah, NONE OF THIS IS HARD CANON. Especially since I wasn’t sure on the roles of some characters here.

Also, if I somehow ever get to publishing my main Evillious x Hetalia fics sometime in the future; first of all, hi. But more importantly, please, I implore you, do not read this before reading The Muzzle of Ludwig. Especially the second half. I tried to avoid spoilers, but someone becomes extremely obvious with contextual clues.

Also… it’s not like I wanted to write Ludwig torment again. But he was basically my only option, since he was the only one whose sin most likely overlaps with… well, it’ll become clear as this goes on. Ludwig’s story here is based on Nemesis Sudou’s story. Though since Nemesis and Ludwig are vastly different characters, there may be some plot holes, unfortunately.

And THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: for those who have read none of my other works yet, Alt-talia has often vastly, vastly different characterizations. I based most of these characterizations off of their late 19th century to very early 20th century personalities in Alt-talia. Special OOC warning for the following characters: Austria, Hungary, and Prussia. Minor OOC warning for Germany. I used @askimperialludwig ‘s version of the character as a reference, along with my personal perception and research. may add more later.

Also, credit to my friend @tomboyjessie13 , my Evillious consultant, for helping me through this!

I can’t let this be too long, since the fic is long already. Let’s go!

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(Also... people who read my fics, please reblog them. I work hard on them, and want many to see them!)

And since I forgot to add this above the cut; this canon is also one of the few times Nyotalia characters canonically exist as their own entity in my works, if not the only one so far. It’s kind of necessary, since otherwise it’ll turn into a complete sausagefest. However, as I have no set personality for them in main Alt-talia canon, I basically write them the same way as I would their male counterparts, with maybe some minor changes. I do have some ideas for Nyotalia characters in “what if” stories for main Alt-talia canon, but since this would be an Alt-talia spinoff, most of my theoretical audience would be there for the Alt-talia characters who appear in most Alt-talia media. Not to mention male stereotypes for countries are usually more fun anyway. However, in this universe two counterparts of the same character can co-exist. I try to avoid that though.

Also, a character named “Arendt” is briefly mentioned; this is Brandenburg. He isn’t really that important though, and really I’ve barely fleshed him out, so that’s all you need to know.

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The Key To Zorn

Part one: And Then The Boy Went Mad

In a certain continent, there was a forest.

A serene, peaceful forest, where inside one could almost feel mystical energy in the clear, unpolluted air.

Until, under the evening sky, a gunshot sounded.

Ludwig Beilschmidt, a boy of merely 8 with innocent, cornflower blue eyes, ran through the forest he knew so well, a basket of wild berries and herbs in his arms and a small sack over his back.

Soon, in his view, among the trees and wild cornflowers was the only place he had known all his life, the little wooden cottage he called home.

The boy immediately checked his old, somewhat rusted mailbox, a look of anxiousness on his face - one which immediately turned to disappointment upon finding there was nothing there.

He sighed.

“Nothing today either...”

He reached up somewhat, twisting the doorknob and opening the wooden door.

“I’m home!”

No one answered back.

As per usual.

He didn’t expect one anyway.

Ludwig went to the dining table, setting the basket and sack, as well as his small, old-model pistol, down on his side of the table. Inside the sack was a small rabbit; the poor little thing. He hoped it didn’t struggle for long after he had shot it.

He prepared dinner as he always did, the bubbling as the ingredients stewed the only sounds other than the cries of the wildlife outside.

And he ate in silence by the light of the lamp, staring at the empty, vacant other side of the table, the light of the sun dim and faint.

“Mutter, is it good?”

Nothing.

Ludwig sighed again, going back to shoving the stew into his mouth.

——-

Ludwig tucked himself into bed after a bath and a change of clothes, now in his old, almost too small pajamas, having finished the book in his hands an hour ago - while he had reread it and others several times already, it was a window into a world different from his, where friends supported each other and families told stories in front of the fire - but now that it was over, here he was, once again, stuck in loneliness, on his own, within the cold, dark walls of a small cabin.

Once again, it was quiet. All too quiet; except for the sounds of the forest.

Now as he had nothing to distract him, every rustling of the underbrush, every animal cry made him bristle. The forest was his comfort by day, almost a second mother, but by night, it was dark, feral.

He pulled his blankets up to his face, curling up, shaking like a leaf. He felt any moment, a beast could break through the walls and tear him to shreds.

He missed his mother so much, oh how he missed her. Her harsh but protective voice, her calloused hands squeezing his wrists. He missed his onkel Arendt, who told him stories of the battles he and Mutter had been through.

She’s dead. She’s dead, accept it.

No, no she wasn’t.

She couldn’t be. She had to be alive.

She was too strong to die.

She would come back. She always came back.

His mother wouldn’t want to see him like this anyway. He was being pathetic.

“Einz, zwei, drei...”

He took a deep breath. He was stronger than this.

Imagining his mother was standing by his bed, staring at him with disapproval at his fearful behavior, finally his shivering started to lessen ever so slightly.

He needed to make it so that when she came home with another medal shining on her chest, she could come home to a son she could be proud of, after all.

“Good night.”

He said to no one in particular, as he let the faint moonlight be his comfort, finally closing his eyes.

Lu li la la lu li la la la...

A soothing, calming melody played in his mind; Ludwig didn’t know where he knew it from, but as it surrounded him in soft, almost familiar gentleness, the shivering stopped, his muscles loosened, and he was finally lured into the welcome embrace of sleep.

Lu li la la lu li la la la…

Lu li la la lu li la la la...

———-

“FIRE!”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Birds flew away in massive numbers, disturbed by the sudden noise.

Ludwig blew the steam off his pistol, seeing that the bullets had all landed near-target. Almost there.

Not bothered by the recoil anymore, he lined up the shot again, swearing he would get it right this time.

Every two days he did this, before 10 sets of running, marching, and every parallel bar routine; this wasn’t how most children his age passed their time, willingly anyway, if the books he read were any indication, and surely he felt sorry for the animals who had to hear such things, as they were the closest things to friends he had. But it broke the silence.

And most of all, he could almost sense his mother beside him during these practice drills; he could feel her hands on his arms guiding him in his aim, and hear her voice shouting in tandem with him as he shouted “FIRE!”. In fact, sometimes he swore she actually was there, by his side.

He took a deep breath and aimed again.

“FIRE!”

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

When he came home, he once again saw a basket of supplies.

They always puzzled him. They came at such random, unpredictable intervals, filled with food, a few bottles of milk, several cartridges of bullets, and even occasionally a book, toy, bar of soap, or other extra, but by the time he found them no one was ever there.

He should be grateful. Though he wished someone would explain to him.

Oh well.

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

Days passed, then months.

Once again, on the night of his 9th birthday, Ludwig laid alone, the weak moonlight unable to brighten his gradually deepening pit of despair.

The silence was maddening. He craved for any touch, for any warmth of another person, for anything. But even that simple wish was too much to ask.

He bunched up the worn blanket, the cold, frigid winter air seeping into the cabin.

Every day, he wondered if he was slowly going mad.

Holding a cornflower and his mother’s black cross necklace to his chest, looked out into the moon, to the night sky peeking from a clearing in the trees.

A star shot through the night sky, and Ludwig was quick to make his wish.

I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.

She had always told him that believing in such things was foolish.

But what was the pain in hanging onto the little light he could find?

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

Now’s your time.

Alright. I’m going in. See you.

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

One cold, chilling day, towards the final days of the year he turned 9, Ludwig stepped outside to check his mailbox again.

Snow lightly dusted the ground, softly landing on his old, worn coat.

He had checked his homemade calendar; Sancbruma. Such a lovely holiday. But now, just yet another cold, freezing, lonely day. Oh well. He had known Pater Natalis wasn’t real for years to need confirmation.

But this day, after creaking the old thing open, he found something.

His heart almost stopped.

Immediately, he ripped the envelope often, his heart pounding in his ears, his breath quickening, and he immediately glued his focus to the words, written specially to be understandable to a child.

Ludwig Beilshmidt, we are sorry to inform you that…

Time seemed to stop. He swore his heart stopped.

Dread shot through his body like lightning.

He read on, clinging onto the little hope that still remained with him all those years as they escaped from him, flying away as he fell deeper.

…

…

Tears fell from his face.

She was gone.

She was really gone.

Finally, suppressed despair replaced dread, filling every corner of his mind and body, every nerve, every muscle.

But mixed with it, and eventually almost overpowering it in the concoction of emotion, was wrath.

Pure, unbridled wrath.

He tore the paper and screamed, his screams piercing the serene forest air.

Tears fell from his eyes like a burst dam as he cried into his hands, cursing whoever had killed her, her fate, the cruelty of the gods.

If only he could get his hands on whatever bastard killed her, he would strangle them, he would gouge out their eyes, he would shoot them in the leg and watch them bleed to death, how dare they take his mother away!

He had always been told the best came to those who were patient.

He was proven wrong that day.

All those years, waiting, hoping, hoping for nothing.

Nothing.

His mother was never going to come back. Ever.

Grief, anger, and sadness gripped his small frame as he shook, on the ground, his young brain besieged with intense emotions and reality, dreaded, painful reality.

Don’t cry. How pathetic. Is that how I raised you?

Ludwig forced himself to take deep breaths, desperately fighting his tears and holding back the flow of the concoction of emotions any further.

No, his mother wouldn’t want to see him like this. He couldn’t let her be honored like this.

“Einz, zwei, drei, einz, zwei, drei...”

He took a breath with every word, forcing his emotions back and attempting to lock them away, until finally once again he could think somewhat coherently.

It was here he noticed something perched on the mailbox.

An eagle.

A medium-large eagle with pointy, perky ears and snout; a magnificent, beautiful coal-black Fernirhund, its bright, intelligent eyes a rare violet.

He didn’t notice it before in his panic, but now the dominant emotion in his mind was confusion.

As he sniffled, the eagle nudged him again with its nose, looking up at him with its soulful eyes.

“...A eagle?”

The eagle stared at him back.

Ludwig’s mind immediately jumped back to the beginning of the year.

I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.

“Are… are you from my Mutter?”

Silence.

Immediately, he embraced the eagle, making it yelp, crying into its fur.

“It’s adorable! I love it Mutter! Thank you!”

It let him cry into its fur, as the boy’s short arms wrapped around it in the first living thing it had embraced, nay, touched, in years.

He was actually holding something living. Oh, it had been so long. Oh so long.

He had almost forgotten what it felt like to hold life in his arms, to feel its warmth, to feel its gentle rising and falling, to hear the subtle sounds of another’s breath in his ears.

For the first time in years, despite the unforgiving cold of the winter morning air, warmth reached Ludwig’s heart, happiness brewing with and overpowering now subdued despair and rage.

<Sure… Whatever makes you happy, kid.>

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

“Oy vey… I was too late again.

...This world is fucked.”

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

Ludwig put a saucer of stew in front of the eagle, which surely enough it soon started lapping up.

“It’s good right? What should I call you… I’ll have to give you a name.”

He stared at the eagle, deep in thought.

“Oh, I know… Schwarzchen!”

The eagle looked at him.

“You like it? Then Schwarzchen it is!”

<...I didn’t say anything. ’Blackie’? You cannot be serious.>

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

That night was different from usual.

Ludwig nestled his head in Schwarzchen’s fur, holding onto him like a stuffed animal, running his fingers through his soft coat. It had seemed reluctant at first, clearly not used to such close contact but as Ludwig begged it to stay, as if it understood him, it decided to stay with him.

The eagle’s breathing neutralized the deafening silence he had gotten so used to, its warmth protecting his small body from the frosty air.

It was like heaven.

Oh, he almost forgot something.

He took his mother’s necklace from his bedside table, putting it around the eagle’s neck like a collar.

“There. Perfect. It suits you.”

He barked.

“Good night, Schwarzchen.”

That night, sleep came to Ludwig easier than usual, as he was surrounded by his new companion’s soft breathing and warm fur.

----------

“Hallo. Kid. Wake up.”

Ludwig awoke, his eyes fluttering open.

Once his eyes focused, he almost yelped in shock.

He was somewhere he didn’t recognize, some formless void; Schwarzchen was nowhere to be seen, nor were the walls of his cabin or even his forest, all that remained was his bed.

In front of him was a man clad in what seemed to be a long white lab coat and some type of mantle, or at least Ludwig assumed, his clothing style almost resembling that in illustrations in one of his novels, ostensibly chronicling ancient legends; but not just any man.

A man who looked almost exactly like how one would imagine Ludwig would look like when he was older, save for his unnatural purple, almost magenta eyes that shined with a calculating glint, a scar under his left.

“H… hallo?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I… Who are you?”

The man smiled at him softly; despite his harsh features, it calmed some of Ludwig’s nerves, just a little.

“That isn’t important. But you’re lonely, right? And it’s causing you pain, yes?”

His voice was deep; much lower than Arendt’s, the only other reference he had for an adult man, surprising Ludwig a bit.

The boy nodded.

The man dug into one of his pockets, taking out a key.

“Here. I’ll be your friend; all you have to do is take the other end of this key, and you won’t feel any of that loneliness and pain any more…”

Tentatively, Ludwig took it.

The boy gasped as he suddenly felt something overwhelming and indescribable other than energy blitz between him and the strange man through the key; it was painless, in fact almost manic energy, bright lights flashing in his vision.

Ludwig woke up.

The boy laid there, his eyes wide, his mind mulling over what he had just seen.

“A dream… it was a dream… Who was that man?”

He turned, and there Schwarzchen was.

“Never mind… Good morning, Schwarzchen.”

<Are you really going with that name?>

Ludwig blinked.

“...Did you just…”

<I thought children were supposed to be creative?>

Ludwig’s eyes widened. He held his head; it seemed to be coming from within his head, like a thought, instead of from his ears.

“...Schwarzchen? Is that you?”

<Yes, this is the eagle. And I have a name.>

Ludwig took a few seconds to process the information.

“...What? ...Mein Gott, I’ve really gone crazy…”

<No. This is real. I’m speaking to you through something called telepathy. Speaking to you through your mind. I could explain all the intricate details but it would probably short-circuit your child brain.>

“I know what it is. But it’s just like in the stories! Wow! I didn’t know they really happened!”

<Well you could say that.>

Ludwig sat up on the side of his bed.

“You keep insulting my naming sense. So what is your name?”

“Schwarzchen” looked him directly in the eyes.

<Well, well, it’s the same as yours, funnily enough. Ludwig.>

“We have the same name? What a coincidence.”

<But I know that is confusing. Just call me Lutz. That is what everyone calls me.>

“Alright… Lutz it is. ...I liked ‘Schwarzchen’ though.”

<...Whatever, kid.>

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

Like that, Ludwig and Lutz became friends.

His 10th birthday had been the best birthday he had in years, even if it was just the two of them.

Over time, Lutz taught the boy how to use telepathy; and without him saying a word, he became a third hand to him.

...Sometimes. Other times, the eagle merely yawned, telling him to “Do it on his own.”

Ludwig wondered if all eagles were like this. But even then, he didn’t mind. Even if Lutz was a cold, snarky jerk sometimes, it didn’t matter.

Every day, they ate together, went hunting together, bathed together, and at the end of the day slept together.

He could almost forget his loneliness, and the fact that his mother would never return.

Almost.

——————

As Ludwig braced himself on his bed, he once again counted his breaths.

The wrath he felt that day; it was coming back. From within, it seemed to spread to his entire body, to the point it was unbearable.

He would never forget that pain. He couldn’t. But mindless rage was for the foolish.

He wouldn’t forget. But he would remember, silently.

When he looked to Lutz, Lutz didn’t seem afraid at all. He merely stared at him with those violet eyes.

Ludwig embraced Lutz, not letting go.

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

Lutz stared at the young boy as he slept, his chest rising and falling.

<How cute.>

It was easy.

A bit too easy.

What did he expect from a child though.

<Still, would have liked a bit more of a challenge.

Oh well. Sleep tight, kid.

...Though why do you have to use me as a pillow?>

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

Over the next year, Ludwig grew. Now on the cusp of puberty, he became stronger, he could run faster and further, and he could shoot with more and more accuracy.

On the morning of his 11th birthday, Lutz presented him with a query.

<Kid.>

“Huh? What is it, Lutz?”

<Now that you know that your mother isn’t coming home…>

Ludwig froze.

<Don’t cry on me.>

“I wasn’t going to”

<Yes, yes. In anyway, since you know you mother isn’t coming home, what’s the point staying in this place anymore?>

The boy pondered it.

<I’m a eagle and even I think it’s pointless waiting for someone if they’re clearly dead. Well maybe I’m not the one to talk here.>

He was right.

“But… This is all I have ever known.”

<Don’t worry about it. You’re smart. I think. You should find out what to do soon enough.>

“...Jawohl. I don’t know what my purpose is being here forever too… It’s not like this place will disappear either. And it’s not what Mutter would want me to do. ...We’re leaving tonight.”

————-

Ludwig opened his drawer.

There it was; the notice he had torn up all those years ago.

Why did he still have it?

Just so he would never forget, probably.

Ludwig sealed the notice into a pouch before the rage became too much to bear, stuffing it into his bag, going to fetch his clothing. He had a sailor suit saved up for “special occasions”; he hoped he hadn’t outgrown it already.

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

Ludwig looked behind his back one last time to the small cabin, the cornflowers, the trees he had known for his entire 11 years of living.

It felt so odd to know he would be away from it.

He quickly ran back, Lutz grumbling behind him, and picked a few flowers, pressing them between the pages of a book.

<Are you done now?>

“Jawohl. Coming, coming!”

-----------

When Ludwig entered the capital, the little truly important belongings he had on his and Lutz’s backs, he was in awe.

It bustled with energy, with people, rickety, clanking automobiles and trolleys spewing steam or smoke that made him cough if he went to close, radio commercials resounding through the air, as well as delicious smells the likes of which he hadn’t known in years, some never before, but mixed in with the inexplicable smell of whatever was coming out of the automobiles.

Ludwig wasn’t quite sure whether he liked it or disliked it, but most accurately he would describe it as a strange mix of the two; but more than anything, everything was so new.

He marveled at the sight of a trolley passing by, when he heard honking behind him.

“Get out of the way brat!”

Ludwig stepped back, hopping back to the sidewalk, and an automobile clunked on, its driver looking at him irritated.

But its movements fascinated him, how the machine seemed to move magically, how it seemed to have a life of its own.

“...Where should I even start?”

<Well? Do you have any relatives?>

“Not that I know of.”

Lutz pointed in the direction of some other children, in a way much like how a pointer or setter eagle would.

<You could try living on the streets like them for a few days. See where it gets you.>

“...Oh.”

Ludwig sighed. He may as well.

————-

“Shoo! Shoo!”

“No money? We aren’t a charity, sorry.”

“Outta the way!”

————-

Ludwig slept in an alley that night, huddled in his old blanket, snuggling against Lutz, who had gotten used to the close contact years ago.

He was so tired. He just remembered he hadn’t slept for an entire day, and it was finally catching up to him.

He had gotten some attention due to being cleaner-looking than the rest, though Lutz was far more charming in their eyes. But more often than not, the overwhelming message in the air was clear; he wasn’t welcome here.

“Lutz?”

Lutz looked up.

<What is it, kid?>

“Why didn’t you tell me I needed money for everything?”

<Didn’t you read about it?>

“I didn’t know it was this necessary.”

<I can’t hold your hand all the time.>

“...Lutz?”

<...What now?>

“There’s so many people here. But I still feel so alone.”

<Well at least you got some to get through the night. Don’t be choosy.>

“Jawohl… Good night.”

————

Seeing no reason not to, Ludwig had decided to explore the city a bit more the next morning, after having helped himself and Lutz to a piece of bread and some beef jerky he had bought, plus the miscellaneous items he had been given the day before.  

After a long while of walking, taking in the different sights, from the historical landmarks and building to new projects, some even in the midst of being built, neatly separated or together, working in at times harmonious and at times chaotic tandem. Every so often he saw stray animals run about. After some time he started to see schoolchildren, some about his age, run to school with their friends, adults dressed in suits on their way to work.

Until, Ludwig started to feel the air change.

It felt somewhat... sticky? The breeze seemed stronger. And inexplicably salty.

For he had reached the city harbor. Birds, they were called seagulls he believed, cawed above. Fishermen had far since left the dock, and in the distance, trade ships were being loaded to go who knows where. And they were floating on a vast, open field of water, water, nothing but water.

“Lutz... is this...”

<The ocean? What, you don’t even know what the ocean is?>

He had heard his mother’s stories about the ocean; while she had never been a woman of the seas per se, she was in the army, not the navy after all, he had heard her describe growing up near it. It was odd thinking that she, too, had been a child once like him.

This ocean was to her like the forest was to him, quite possibly.

She had also spoken about a rumor; a rumor that a wish put into a bottle and cast into the sea would, eventually, be granted. She had dismissed it as childish of course. And she did say that she much preferred the land after growing up.

Though according to Onkel Arendt, she would at times, despite this, just go to her childhood home, staring out into the eternal ocean.  

He wondered what she had thought as her red eyes stared out into the distant horizon, the salty breeze flowing through her silver-white hair. 

It was strange, imagining his mother like that. The sea was so free, almost careless; the complete opposite of her. But maybe that was exactly what drew her to it.

Ludwig started running along the dock, letting Lutz chase him, the briny wind rushing past him and through his hair. People had started to come to swim, and the city was starting to fully come to life.

Even if life was hard, at least he had some way of entertaining himself when everything was so brand new.

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

One day, a duo of teenagers spotted Ludwig.

And being the thugs they were, Ludwig suddenly found himself in confrontation with two kids much larger, older, and stronger than he; even if Ludwig was tougher than most 11-year-olds, these two seemed to be about 14 at least, if not, and probably, 15.

“Hey street rat, where’s your mutti?!”

Ludwig tried not to pay them any heed, even if he bristled at the rude words.

“...What business do you have with me?”

The shorter one grabbed him by the collar.

“I asked you a question, shorty!”

After the initial shock and fear, Ludwig felt a flash of anger. His fists clenched as he tried to struggle his way out. And worst of all was that he couldn’t do anything.

<Kid. Listen.>

“What?!”

<Listen to me. Tell me to “Intimidate”. Now. Don’t ask questions.>

“Of course! ...Intimidate, Lutz!”

————-

Ludwig stood there, dumbfounded at what he had just witnessed, as the teenagers ran away, screaming “DEMON eagle! DEMON eagle!”.

And there Lutz was, looking terribly bored, as if nothing had happened.

————

A week passed; Ludwig counted, as he always valued timekeeping, no matter what. The other street children left him alone, eyeing him strangely. Occasionally, he heard extortionists threatening some unfortunate soul.

That was when, however, Lutz told him something vital.

<Hey. Have you ever considered asking the police if you have any relatives?>

Ludwig looked at the eagle, puzzled.

“What?”

Lutz pointed at a building.

<There. It says “POLIZEI”. Can’t you read?>

“...Why? Won’t they throw me in jail or something?”

<Actually they have records too. They might have your mother’s family on file.>

Lutz looked up to see Ludwig’s dumbfounded face staring back at him.

“...Why didn’t you tell me that, you mutt?!”

<Thought it would be interesting to observe you. Also don’t be too loud. Everyone will think you’re a crazy person.

Ludwig took a look around, and indeed there were some passerbys staring at him.

Ludwig loudly sighed, his palm on his face.

“...Fine. Thanks anyway.”

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

“Your name?”

“Ludwig Beilshmidt.”

The officers looked at him for a few seconds.

“...As in Julia Beilshmidt? General Julia Beilshmidt?”

“Jawohl.”

They were in shock.

“...Excuse me? Is something wrong?”

“Erm… We apologize. Ja.”

“Do I have any relatives? I need some place to stay.”

“...Ja. We will search immediately. Please wait here. But it may take a while.”

————-

“Hallo? Is this the police? Why must you be calling?”

“Well, you see, sir… It appears that a relative of yours has suddenly shown up out of nowhere. ...He claims to be Beilshmidt’s son.”

“...Mein Gott. Julchen did say she had a son… I knew she wasn’t the type who should be able to take care of a child. I will be there as soon as I can.”

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

<This is boring.>

“I know, Lutz. Shut up.”

Lutz yawned.

“He should be here soon-”

It was then that the door to the police station opened with just enough force to be noticeable without slamming.

Standing there was a dark brown-haired gentleman with a large, curly cowlick, probably in his thirties, most likely affluent from his clothing.

“Excuse me, I hear there was someone waiting for me here?”

Ludwig stood up, and their eyes met.

“Hallo. ...You are Ludwig?”

He adjusted his glasses, then his tie.

“Ja?”

He looked him over.

“Ah, I can see some of the resemblance. Though you’re actually somewhat adorable, unlike her.”

“...Is that an insult against her?”

Realizing his mistake, the man cleared his throat.

“Ah, sorry.”

He outstretched his hand.

“I am Herr Roderich Edelmann. Your mother’s cousin. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you, but it is nice being able to see you with my own two eyes.”

Ludwig took the hand, shaking it.

“Ludwig Beilshmidt. Nice to meet you, Sir.”

Then, suddenly, Roderich’s formal facade dropped and he pulled the boy into a hug.

“You’re so precious! You may call me Onkel Roderich! Don’t worry, we will take great care of you!”

Lutz looked on in amusement as Ludwig’s cries of shock became muffled in the man’s chest.

Ludwig was flabbergasted. It had been so long since he had been hugged. He only could relive them in his memories, and they weren’t frequent, but here he was, feeling it yet again, surrounded by warmth; he didn’t know how to process it.

But if there was one emotion he was certain about as the man smoothed his hair and cooed over him, it was that he felt loved.

————-

Ludwig held on tightly as the automobile rocked around them. Roderich didn’t seem to mind it whatsoever, but Ludwig had only heard of an automobile once, and had seen, much less ridden, none. Roderich was happy to make him comfortable next to him though, warning him whenever a bump or “pothole” was coming up.

“I forgot to ask… what is that eagle doing with you? A purebred Fenrir no less?”

Lutz was lazily sprawled out in the back seat behind them, his ears pricking somewhat at the mention of him.

“Oh, that’s Lutz.”

“...Lutz? As in…”

“Jawohl.”

Roderich looked puzzled.

“Erm… Mutter named him.”

Roderich huffed.

“Ah, Julchen, of course…”

“He was my last Sancbruma present from her before she died.”

Roderich quieted for a few seconds.

“Oh… I see. We will accommodate him too. Do not worry. ...Also, no need to ‘jawohl’ around me.”

“Jawo… ja.”

—————

Onkel Roderich was a renowned musician; he was a master of many instruments and even knew how to compose, but his main forte was the piano. He was sought after for his talents across the land.  

And he had the house to show it as well.

“Welcome to your new home, Ludwig.”

Ludwig took it all in; the house was already larger than average compared to others in town, and as a boy who had grown up in a small log cabin all his life, it seemed especially enormous.

A woman with long, light brown hair came up to them, looking from Roderich to Ludwig.

“Ah, Erzsébet! This is my nephew, Ludwig. He will be staying with us from now on.”

Roderich bent his knees so he was at Ludwig’s level.

“Ludwig, this is Erzsébet, my wife.”

“H… hallo. Nice to meet you, Tante Erzsébet.”

Ludwig outstretched his hand.

The woman merely eyed him for a few seconds.

“Hallo. I guess.”

She said, gruffly, with a distinctly foreign accent.

Roderich sighed.

“Erzsébet, why do you have to be like this?”

“Why do we have to take in this ratty-looking kid?”

Ludwig scowled.

“Hey!”

Roderich held Ludwig closer, glaring at her.

“Erzsébet! He’s a child! Have you no heart?!”

“Fine, fine.”

She shook his hand, roughly.

“But the eagle is cute though. And wow, a Fenrir?! Hallo, come here!”

Lutz merely yawned.

Ludwig couldn’t help but snicker as an unamused frown crept across Erzsébet’s face.

“...Whatever. Make yourself at home I guess.”

She walked off.

“Prepare the bath and extra room for the boy! Come on now!”

Roderich commanded, and soon after servants bowed and quickly ran upstairs in single file.

“Don’t mind my wife. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic to hear from you. But she will warm up to you eventually. Though… you are in need of new clothes, aren’t you?”

He gave the boy a once-over, making Ludwig look down to his old, beaten-up and washed out child-sized military uniform.

“Sadly, we do not have any clothes your size as of now. I will have a servant hire the tailor immediately. Meanwhile I will order them to wash what you have now.”

<He’s awfully happy to see you, isn’t he?>

“Ja… he seems like a nice person.”

————

That might, Ludwig had the best dinner he had ever had.

He could only marvel at the dishes in front of him; even those he had heard of before looked so refined. And there was so much of it! The variety of bread available was amazing.

But he couldn’t let himself forget his discipline. Even if it took all his willpower not to start gorging himself on everything like he had been possessed by some demon of gluttony.

“Onkel, what is this?”

“A chocolate torte, you see. A type of cake.”

Ludwig remembered actually having a cake a grand total of once. He still remembered its sweetness so well and it was probably the best thing he ever had eaten. And then there were two other things he had only read about before.

...And Lutz seemed unusually interested in it.

He couldn’t blame him though, it’s aroma was mesmerizing to Ludwig’s senses.

“Chocolate? Is that what the brown is?”

“You have never had chocolate before?! Mein Gott, Julchen, What have you done?”

Ludwig was quick to take a bite, and he froze.

The mellow, deep sweetness melted on his tongue, spreading throughout his mouth in such an indescribably perfect way, a tinge of bitterness within that instead of detracting from the experience, somehow harmonized with the sweetness in such a heavenly way.

“...Ludwig?”

“...It’s amazing.”

Roderich seemed somewhat amused by how floored the boy was.

“Even your mother was quite a fan.”

<Hey, hey. Kid.>

Ludwig was surprised by the unusual agitation in Lutz’s thoughts. He didn’t think he had ever heard anything like it before.

“Lutz? What is-“

<I need it. Now. Don’t ask questions!>

Ludwig almost panicked, giving a piece to the impatient eagle.

“Ludwig!”

“I… erm… It was unfair to have it to myself!”

“...Wasn’t chocolate poisonous to eagles?”

Erzsébet questioned.

“Wait wha-“

<Don’t worry. ... Ahh, bliss...>

Ludwig smiled nervously.

“He’ll be fine.”

The couple just stared, confused.

“Erm…”

“Trust me! I know him well. ...Can I have more? Please?”

“Absolutely.”

His face absolutely lit up at that, and in the corner of his vision Ludwig saw quite possibly the most genuine expression of joy he had seen from Lutz in all the time he knew him.

“Why’s it that everyone in your family loves chocolate so much?”

Erzsébet asked as her husband took another piece.

“Why don’t you is the better question.”

“...Actually, yup, you two definitely are related. Leave some for me though!”

————

Roderich doted on the boy; he made sure he had the nicest clothes and the nicest food that he could afford.

He had made sure the room was in absolute best condition, that his pillows were always fluffed and bed always made, even if Ludwig insisted he wanted to do it on his own.

He taught him everything about the basics of civilization, how to read more complex sentences, how to play the piano and the violin, even how to dance. He took him with him to work, across the city and sometimes even country to places he had at best read about and to meet so many new people.

His next Sanctbruma and 12th birthday were the most extravagant he had ever had.

Yet…

Yet something was missing.

Despite the man’s kindness, he felt something wasn’t right. Ludwig couldn’t put a finger on what, and he felt awful about it to be sure; he did so much for him, what more could a boy ask for?

But yet…

Sure, Erzsébet never completely warmed up to him; even if she wasn’t as cold to him, according to Lutz she was merely tolerating him. And the same was true for many of the servants.

But that didn’t change the fact that Roderich himself was nothing but loving towards him. Even if he had curfews and other such rules, he never had trouble with rules. His mother raised him to obey rules. And while he was often busy, he still tried his best to spend time with him.

Finally, he actually had someone who resembled a parent after all those years. He should have been thankful.

But he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Someone had to be doing something wrong.

At times, he still lay awake at night, those lonely days and nights and that fateful Sanctbruma playing back in his mind; as well as the accompanying emotions of pure hatred and wrath.

Once, Roderich has entered the room at an inopportune time to Ludwig curled up in his bed, seething, growling at him to leave him alone.

While he didn’t say anything about it at dinner, it was obvious he was disturbed by it.

“...Lutz. Why can’t I be happy? I still feel alone, but I don’t even know why.”

<Maybe you’ve been alone for too long. You’re past the point of return, kid. Maybe you should come to peace with it.>

“At least I have you.”

<Whatever.>

———

“Ludwig.”

“Ja, Onkel Roderich?”

The man sighed.

“It has been over a year since you started living with us. What is it with your standoffish behavior? Is something wrong? I will listen to it.”

“...I just can’t, Onkel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I… Something just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know why.”

The man looked so disappointed.

“I try my best to make you happy, Ludwig. I really do. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to satisfy your needs.”

“Nein. It isn’t that.”

Roderich shook his head.

“As I was saying… the chords for this piece are…”

—————

Ludwig continued to do his practice drills whenever possible, even if they had taken a different shape; makeshift targets became proper shooting galleries, improvised exercises became possible using an open space between buildings and proper equipment. And as he grew more and more by the day, his physical abilities took leaps and bounds above what he had been capable of before. He just wished he could go more than weekly. At first, Roderich objected, but it didn’t take long for him to cave in.

After all, he had to keep himself in shape, especially as he now had access to all the candy and chocolate that could be plausibly afforded.

After a while, Roderich started to continuously try to ask him to consider other options in this weekly time slot. He was never too forceful, however. And after a while, as Ludwig expressed his clear annoyance, it finally ceased just as it had begun.

There was another episode that irked Ludwig.

One night, as he went to get a glass of water, he had seen Roderich, seemingly sneaking away from his room.

“...Onkel?”

The man bristled as soon as he turned on the lights.

“Erm… Ludwig, I didn’t expect you to be awake..

Then, Ludwig saw it.

In his hands was his mother’s necklace.

“...What are you doing with Mutter’s necklace?”

He immediately stuffed it inside his pocket and turned around, a fake smile on his face.

“What necklace, my dear Ludwig?”

“I know you’re hiding it.”

The man sighed, taking it back out again.

“I… I wanted to put it in a place it will be safer in.”

Ludwig tried not to grill him further, even as he felt something fueled by doubt start to boil within him.

“I’m sure it will be safe with me. It’s been so for all the years I’ve had it. Can I have it back now?”

“...Ja.”

Ludwig swiftly took it back, going down to get his glass. He really needed one.

“You could tell a servant to get it for you?”

“No. I prefer to do it on my own.”

When Ludwig had returned to his room, he had quite the things to say to Lutz.

“Lutz. Why did you let him take it?”

<I was sleepy, kid. Why do you care about that thing so much?>

“It’s from Mutter. You should know. ...Lutz. If anything, protect this with your life.”

<Oh come on now.>

“I’m serious. It’ll be the last thing I ask of you.”

<Alright, alright. Whatever.>

“You aren’t sincere, are you?”

<What do you want from me? Good night.>

——————

One day, as Ludwig overheard some servants speaking to each other in hushed voices, glancing at him every so often.

He was able to catch two things; “Miss Erzsébet” and “barren”.

He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. But for whatever reason he didn’t like the sound of it.

That night, after some shouting, once again Roderich stormed out of the master bedroom, telling Erzsébet to “Get a hold of yourself already, you indecipherable woman!”, to his own separate room, as Erzsébet shouted some words back that sounded really angry and probably inappropriate.

<There goes the lovely couple.>

Lutz thought, as Ludwig tried to sleep. Lutz, meanwhile, had no trouble.

————

13-year-old Ludwig stood outside of the bar, alongside Lutz, as always, and other members of his gang.

It was in a seedy, rough part of town. And it was where their rival gang frequented most often.

It wasn’t the most well-to-do of bars, to say the least; as soon as they entered, the air smelt pungently of alcohol, and ambiently of various nasties.

<Ergh. Try coming here as a eagle.>

They immediately saw their target; the offending gang’s leader.

Their leader went up to confront her rival, fists clearly ready to fly.

“Hey! We know ya killed him!”

“Who?”

The rival boss said, with a cheeky grin.

“Ya know who!”

The two continued to escalate their argument, until they became close to blows.

“Enough yammerin’! Get ‘em, boys n’ girls!”

Suddenly, they were grabbed by the rival gang bangers, including Ludwig, who held back a yelp.

“We didn’t kill one of yer ratpack, asshole! Now get out or we’re gonna force ya out!”

“...You better tell us.”

Ludwig said, tersely, utilizing his now lowering voice and copying his mother’s tone.

The rival boss laughed.

“Or what, kid? What are ya gonna do, huh? Man your recruiting standards have gone down!”

His boss smirked.

“Ya better listen to the kid.”

“Or what?”

They laughed uproariously.

“Lutz. Restrain.”

Their laughing instantly stopped, their faces going sheet white, all the other bar patrons, the bartender, and staff turning to gawk.

For they bore witness to the gang boss being pinned down, on the floor, between the claws of a giant, terrifying hellhound, its eyes glowing, its fangs bared, its breath in the unfortunate gangster’s terrified face.

Ludwig walked up to the rival boss with measured steps, the gangsters holding him having let go out of sheer terror, the thumping of his feet the only sounds other than his companion’s breathing and the squeaks and sputtering from bystanders and rival gangsters, and pulled out his old pistol, aiming it at the thug’s head, glaring daggers so sharp that they could gouge eyes out.

Show your enemy no mercy.

Once again, he thought he felt his mother voice in his ear.

“Tell us the truth.”

The rival boss sputtered, shaking like a leaf, looking awfully smaller than the much younger boy.

“We… we… d-d-di…”

Ludwig cocked his pistol.

“Speak in a real language!”

The rival boss flinched, and the rest of the rival gang huddled, terrified.

“W-we didn’t do anything! I-I swear! I swear!”

Ludwig lowered his pistol slightly.

“...Really?”

“J-ja! I swear! I swear by both the Heavenly and Hellish Yards! P-p-please let me go, Sir!”

“...Alright. Lutz, release.”

The eagle shrank back down to size, returning to his original, fluffy, cute self.

His boss grumbled.

“Whoop. That was pointless. Lud, let’s get outta this dump.”

They turned to leave, the other people in the bar still staring at them.

“W-Wait.”

Ludwig and his boss turned back to the humiliated rival boss.

“We might’ve not killed ‘im. But I-I have a good idea who might’ve.”

———-

“So, Lud. Good job today. We’ve got ourselves a lead.”

“Jawohl.”

Their boss patted Ludwig on the head and gave the group a once-over.

“Ok. You’re all dismissed.”

Ludwig was quick to leave, the others staring after him.

“What’s it with him? I swear, it’s like he doesn’t wanna be associated with us.”

“He said something about a curfew.”

“Really? Kid still follows curfews? What is he, 10?”

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

When Ludwig came back, Roderich was waiting for him.

“Ludwig.”

“Onkel Roderich?”

Roderich’s expression was serious and stern.

“...What have you been doing?”

“What do you mean, Onkel Roderich?”

Roderich held Ludwig’s shoulders.

“Let me state this plainly.”

He took a deep breath.

“You’re involved in gang activity, aren’t you?”

Ludwig was in shock.

“How…”

Roderich shook his head, his hand on his forehead.

“Ludwig. I am sure even Julchen taught you to obey rules.”

“I… I don’t want to depend on you for everything. I feel like a leech.”

Roderich was shocked.

“You’re only 13, Ludwig! It is alright! It isn’t worth putting yourself at risk like this!”

“I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Roderich shook his head.

“Don’t say that. You could deliver newspapers, or use those piano skills I taught you-“

“And they’re my friends.”

“Friends?! I care for you, why do you need them?! Do you even know any of their names?!”

“...”

“You’re going to get into trouble eventually, young man.”

“I… I know!”

Roderich flinched.

Ludwig looked down and stormed back into the house, Lutz running behind him, into his room, throwing himself onto his bed.

“Hmph, teenagers...”

Erzsébet mumbled.

—————-

“Ludwig?”

Roderich opened the door to Ludwig’s room that night, peeking in.

Ludwig couldn’t bare to look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry.”

Roderich sighed.

“Is it because I’m not Julchen?”

The boy felt a pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry! I don’t hate you, I’m thankful for what you’ve done, and-”

“I see. Just try to forget about her, alright?”

Ludwig froze. He felt like someone had stabbed his heart.

“But…”

“I do so much for you. I give you everything. What was it that she had that I don’t? I’ve been a far better parent than that stone-hearted, cruel, cold-”

<Oh no. You’ve done it now.>

“DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT MY MUTTER!”

His voice cracked terribly, but he didn’t care.

Roderich stumbled back, his face pale, horrified.

Silence.

“Ludwig… I’m sorry.”

Ludwig buried his face into his pillows.

“...I’ll tell the servants to bring you dinner. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Leave me alone!”

“...I’m happy with any path you want to take. Just please stay safe.”

Roderich sighed and closed the door.

From that day on, Roderich started informing Ludwig of where police may find him, and locations of stations across the city. Anything for his safety, he had said.

But from that day on Ludwig knew; he knew that his suspicions were true, that all this time he was trying to make him forget about his mother. He couldn’t let that happen. It was only confirmation when he heard him brutally disparage her one night in a drunken stupor during one of his binge-drinking sessions.

Once again, Ludwig could trust no one.

And once again, wrath simmered within him.

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

Their boss summoned Ludwig and the rest of the gang to a gathering; to sort out their clues, they had said.

Ludwig was appreciated for his abilities; but outside of the action, he sat somewhat removed from the rest. He couldn’t connect with them much either.

His mother had despised lawbreakers; “scum”, “rats”, she would call them. If she knew what he was doing now, she would have caned his palms until they were raw and bleeding. She would have told him he was better than this. He never would have imagined he could stoop this low too. After all, he was his mother’s only son. He should have been destined for greatness.

Quite honestly, he didn’t fully understand what he was doing here either. How did he even get here? Was it just a business affair? Were they really his friends? 

Maybe it was because this was the closest thing to military service he could find. Even if it were on the other side of the law.

A girl a year or so older than him, the second youngest in the gang, came up to him attempting to speak to him. Ludwig hesitated, but in the end continued to be fascinated with the clues they had and Lutz.

“Hey give up on Herr Stick-In-The-Mud already! Bet he’s never even kissed a girl!”

A gangster said, using the nickname they often used when ribbing him.

“What’s with him? He to good for us?” One of them muttered when Ludwig refused a drink.  

“Ja. Imagine being one of us and caring about drinking ages. Never can understand Herr Stick-In-The-Mud.”

“Ja. Where was he raised, His Majesty’s Elite Imperial Barracks?”

“Hey, hey, did you hear that Boss might have the hots for him too?”

“Why don’t you fuckwits shut the fuck up?” Their boss barked at the last one. “The kid’s basically an infant!”

<You’re the most rule-bound gangster I’ve ever seen.>

“Why do they treat it as a bad thing?”

<You’re the one who joined a street gang, genius. They’ve got different rules.>

Ludwig looked at the bottle of cheap moonshine he had been offered again, sighed, and took a gulp.

He immediately gagged.

The last time he’d had booze was when Roderich had allowed him to try beer, and even then he had basically diluted half of it with water and it definitely didn’t taste like... whatever this bottle of horse urine was.

“Ack! This is awful! ...I did it, are you happy now?”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Doesn’t count! He gagged!”

Ludwig took a deep breath.

“Let’s get back on topic. We are discussing the murder of a fellow comrade. This is no time for inane chatter.”

Finally, the air became solemn.

“Ja, reasonable, I guess…”

“Now, onto the information Scout 2 gathered...”

—————-

Ludwig, more than anything, considered himself a logical person.

He and his mother both despised vagueness. It seemed pointless, really, all the dancing around the true meaning of your words in the name of “politeness”. While apparently many in this part of the continent were considered similarly blunt and practical, it seemed even then he was exceptional.

So his own emotional turmoil, how he could never seem to explain himself, frustrated him more than anyone else. It angered him.

But one thing he knew for sure was that he looked forward to stopping by the library on the way home. Thank goodness Roderich had taught him to read to a level more appropriate for his age; it was difficult at first, but he was also fortunately a fast learner.

He always had taken a fascination with the sciences. They were at first glance unpredictable, but once broken down and observed, logical. They made sense, they were rational. Recently, he started finding them more investing than fiction, in fact. And his new reading skills finally made the higher levels of it beyond simplistic drawings attempting to explain the laws of physics and magic accessible.

Which was why today he sat outside the library in his usual spot, looking through a medical encyclopedia, munching on one of many bars of dark chocolate and a small loaf of bread.

Lutz licked up pieces of chocolate Ludwig had given him, peeking from under him.

“HERS?”

<Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome.>

Ludwig looked to Lutz in shock.

<A rare genetic, psychiatric disorder with no known cause. Those afflicted by Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome, a Hereditary Evil Raiser, or HER, is said to be at their core an incarnation of malice, "programmed" to destroy the gods, everything they created and everything related to them. Therefore, as a natural prerequisite, they typically show extreme cruelty and having the compulsion to increase their own kind and ensure the continuation of their "mission" to spread malice by any means necessary, taking immense pleasure in doing so. Currently there is no known cure, though in high-functioning individuals it may be managed, and manifest in lesser ways.>

“How…”

<I have my ways.>

“Though… Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome? Who names this stuff?”

<Hey. They probably had their reasons.>

“Why do you care? Did you come up with it?”

<Maybe. Plus, that’s rich coming from the kid who literally named me “Blackie”.>

Ludwig sighed.

“I... Fine. And wait... are you reading with me?”

<Yeah, I can read. I never told you?>

Ludwig continue to stare at him.

“I... I just didn’t think you would...”

<Turn the page already. I already know this.>

"Maybe you could try reading a novel, Lutz?”

<Don’t care. Why should I care about what you flesh-apes think, much less fake ones? No one in the world knows what I’m thinking anyway.>

Ludwig closed the encyclopedia.

“You mean you feel that no one understands you, right?”

Lutz looked up, his ears erect.

His words struck him like a spark of lightning.

“That makes two of us”

An awkward few moments passed. For once in his life, Lutz had nothing to retort back.

Why was he so shocked?

Ludwig blinked, confused.

“Lutz? What’s wrong?”

<...Nothing.>

Lutz didn’t know what he had just felt.

“That makes two of us” 

It should have meant nothing, coming from this brat.

But yet...

Whatever. It probably still meant nothing.

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

“We’ve got our guy! Rich bastard’s not gonna know what hit ‘im.”

Their boss said, confidently, gesturing to an assassin she had bought into their abandoned factory hideout.

The assassin looked across the crowd of gangsters.

“So. Which one of you brats wants to come?”

“Actually, we’ve got a good clue already for who’s gonna be a good fit for this mission.”

Ludwig waited, anxiously. He would gladly take the job of avenging his fallen comrade, of course.

“Ludwig!”

Ludwig stood to attention.

“...You’ll be providing nice clothes for us to blend in!”

Ludwig was speechless.

“How… Why?”

<Turns out you aren’t as tough as you thought. Better luck next time, kid.>

But when all had left, he went up to his boss. He needed answers.

“Why am I excluded?”

She looked at him as if he was stupid.

“I don’t think ‘Giant Enemy eagle’ is a viable weapon to use on a cruise ship.”

“But… I can shoot well too! You said I was a great marksman!”

“You’re good. Gotta say that. Still, don’t know about your skills in stealth yet. Can’t risk it. Now, see ya.”

Then, she abruptly cut him off and left.

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

Three days later, Ludwig and the rest of the gang not chosen for the plot awaited at the dock.

Soon, they spotted the assassination party, coming towards them.

One person was clearly missing.

“Hey! Boss! ...Boss? And where’s...”

Her face was dire.

“Shot dead. ...He spotted us.”

“He saw all our faces. All of you are fucked. We’re all fucked.”

More silence.

“...WHAT?!”

Silence immediately gave way to panic.

Ludwig stood, frozen.

“How… Why…”

He clutched his head, overwhelmed.

“But it can’t…”

Emotions swirled inside the boy, overpowering all of his senses, all of his thoughts.

What was going to happen to him? His friends?

“No, no, no, nonononononono…”

<You know what to do, kid.>

Suddenly, he bolted.

Along the harbor, he ran.

Then, in a burst of emotion and without much thought, as if on instinct, he acted immediately as Lutz took a running leap into the sea.

“SIC ‘EM, LUTZ!”

He didn’t even bother with the telepathy.

Everyone could only look on in shock and horror as Lutz became an utter behemoth of a beast, seemingly not completely solid and with a godlike glow, his tail alone twice the size of the ship; to those who were watching from afar, it would have looked as if a demon eagle had risen out of the sea itself.

The ship was no match for the beast. Before anyone could fully comprehend what was going on, the ship had been sunk, every single person on it with it.

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

Ludwig walked back to the gang, who all stood staring at him, utterly horrified.

Finally, someone broke the silence.

“...Holy shit.”

Another turned to him, their eyes wide.

“...Lud? Did you just…”.

The boy’s mind was blank. What could he even say?

He had killed all of them. Every single one of them.

But in the end...

“Mission accomplished…?”

“Am I trippin’?”

“Did we just witness a massacre?”

“...What the fuck?”

Ludwig took a deep breath.

“But we accomplished our mission. ...I did what I had to do.”

“Ja, but… Holy shit.”

“In anyway…”

Their boss cleared her throat.

“Let’s… Let’s go with this loot before the cops find out.”

The rest could only muster a “Ja” in unison.

Lutz trotted up to Ludwig, as unbothered as always.

“Lutz…”

<Just did as I was told. Don’t complain to me. Here.>

In the eagle’s jaws was a doll; an eerily faceless, unusual, porcelain-ish doll of indeterminable gender.

<Here. I brought a present.>

“What is…”

<Have it. Since I can’t give you Sancbruma presents, here it is, months early.>

“It’s… it’s probably from a dead child, Lutz!”

<Don’t be ungrateful. Oh, and your buddies are waiting. You should go.>

“...Ja. I did what I had to do. We killed him. That’s all that should matter…”

————-

The news of the shipwreck was all over the radio. They had listened to it in their hideout, huddled around the device.

“The perpetrator is currently unknown. However, many claim to have heard the voice of a boy or young man scream for the eagle to attack…”

————-

When Ludwig came home, Roderich was standing in front of the door, in shock.

“Ludwig…”

“Onkel?”

“...It was you wasn’t it?”

Ludwig looked down to his feet.

“Lutz, specifically…”

<Hey.>

Roderich pulled him into a protective embrace.

“You could have put yourself in so much danger! What if the police find out about you?! Don’t you dare do that again.”

"...”

Roderich pulled him in.

“Now, come in before someone recognizes you.”

—————

Roderich rarely ever let him join the rest of the gang since that day; it was too dangerous, he had said.

He went out in mostly in a dark hood for a disguise, at times without Lutz, for over the radio, one expert had identified the beast as “a black Fenrir transformed with powerful magic.”

Later that year, a month before Sancbruma and two months before his 14th birthday, he had heard something unusual.

<Ludwig… Ludwig…>

“Huh?”

Telepathy. But Lutz wasn’t with him; it came from the doll in his bag.

Ever since that fateful day, Lutz had told him to carry it for some vague reason he couldn’t understand; his alleged simple explanation was “It’s amusing to see you carry around a girly doll like that.”

<Ludwig...>

He took the bag off his back and looked in. 

<Someone is after you. You have been found out. You must run.>

“What?! How do you…”

<Do not ask. Please, please run… you must.>

He slung it back over his shoulder.

“Lutz!”

He had to get Lutz. Now.

But by the time he had gotten home, it was too late.

“No, Sir, he is not here. You will not find him here…”

“There he is!”

Two figures stood with Roderich; two figures he didn’t recognize.

A tanned, sturdy-looking man in a black suit, probably from the south of the continent, turned his attention away from Roderich, and pointed at Ludwig, gun in hand.

“Ludwig Beildshmidt! You are under arrest!”

Ludwig’s eyes widened. Emotions and stress once again blitzed through him.

“Lutz! Restrain! ...Lutz? Lutz?!”

His eyes darted next to the man to the other figure, what Ludwig thought to be a long-haired, somewhat tall foreign woman in eastern attire, her dark, raven hair pulled back into a ponytail; seemingly holding Lutz back without touching the eagle, but clearly struggling.

“Hurry!”

She shouted, in a foreign accent Ludwig didn’t recognize.

Ludwig bolted.

“Don’t you dare, you-“

“Herr Edelmann! Stop, or you will be arrested as well for interfering with police procedure!”

“Don’t touch him!”

The mysterious man finally shoved the weaker-looking man off him and gave chase, but Roderich grappling with him had given him some extra time...

“Ludwig! RUN! RUN!”

But before Ludwig could escape, all of a sudden he was blindsided by a third person, jumping on his back and pinning him down, the boy’s small body no match for the adult.

“LUDWIG!”

“Let me go, LET ME GO!”

That was the last thing he remembered saying before he had been slammed on the back of the head.

Ludwig blacked out.

To be continued in part 2...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Author’s notes:

So I had to split this thing in half since it became much longer than I expected. Wow this is a monster. You will see the parts listed here after I write them. Parts, because this will have two different routes! Hopefully! Then again it seems like no one read this...

Also, the scene with the sea is even more ambiguous “canon” in this already ambiguously “canon” story, but I wanted to write it in because I liked it, having seen the idea that Prussia has some kind of connection to the sea before and liking it. I wish I could find it now. I think Alt-Prussia would have grown up with the sea when he was younger, and while he would stay very strictly a land fighter (in fact the Prussian navy was never all that good, being mostly a merchant fleet. Even the German navy, while it did go through a growth period in the 1880s in competition with Britain I believe, by WWII at least their Kriegsmarine kind of sucked. It’s why the invasion of Britain never happened, their navy would have been laughably curbstomped), and I still associate England, Netherlands, or Portugal way more with the ocean, maybe the North Sea has some kind of soothing effect on him.

Also adorable child!Germany is adorable. Why do I love this kid so much? Why is he so damn cute?!