#‘but have you considered releasing a sea monster would perhaps not make it better’
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aroacecaduceus · 7 hours ago
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One wish I have for the Mighty Nein series is that Caduceus does not know how to fight at all.
Like not even a little bit. Like he’s completely useless in a bar fight.
Like, I want him in the fights, don’t get me wrong. I want them to show him cancelling crits somehow, like one of the Mighty Nein is about to be fucking destroyed and vines form around them and yank them back or something. I want them to show him casting holy weapon on Beau’s hands. Maybe he creates some fun shields when things attack.
But most of the time in battle, especially at the beginning, when he’s the new guy, I want him to be the most cringe-fail fighter to ever exist. I want them to get into a fight with pirates and just get knocked unconscious in one punch. I want them to rush out and accidentally steal that boat and realize they left Caduceus behind on the dock bc he didn’t know what was happening.
My man grew up as a healer and a graveyard attendant. If this boy threw a punch he’d break his hand on the other guy’s jaw. But don’t worry because he’d never think to throw a punch anyway.
In the game, he needed to do some fighting sometimes. But in the show, I think he should just hide away for nearly every battle. He should not cause a single drop of blood. Even when he’s angry. He’s the healer. Not because of the god he worships (she’s actually a freak) but because of a personal choice.
The only time he should attack is if they show the scene with sheep Caleb.
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dennou-translations · 4 years ago
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Violet Evergarden Ever After: Chapter 2
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The Night and the Auto-Memories Doll
   Everything went around.
From past to present and from present to future. The dead bodies that decayed within the soil would dissolve into the earth, and from the earth, too, would new living creatures be born. Within a few hours’ time, curtains made of stars and nightly shades would be covered over by curtains in the colors of dawn.
People went around as well.
Children would be born, muster out their voices, start walking and, once they became aware of their own selves, their stories would begin. A cycle of discovering passion, coming to know love, stopping to be children and, upon sympathizing with other families, birthing offspring just as their parents had done. A cycle of learning about the world, spreading information, teaching their knowledge to younglings without sparing any of it away and generating more such younglings. A cycle in which someone’s story was someone else’s encouragement, and those who were encouraged would conceive stories of their own.
Everything went around.
There was one cycle here. It was the story of a meager cycle that likely could happen anywhere in the world.
A man picked up a wild beast from a small island to which he had drifted. It was a beautiful beast, but it had been stocked with skills long before coming to his hands. Skills for slaughtering people with ease and seeking submission.
Their first meeting was terrible. His underling had attempted to lay his hands on the beast’s beauty. As if it were a given, the beast had killed his many subordinates, leaving only one person. That was him. Granting him both disaster and salvation at the same time, the beast had sought subservience in regards to the man.
The man fled around the island where all but himself had been murdered, but gave in and accepted the beast. The beast was useful, but also an existence that he could not handle. Be it morning, noon or night, his head was troubled with the beast, his heart unable to calm down.
Essentially, he was a man who did not want to be shackled by anything. After all, he had a past of being forced into submission by his household and parents. He had escaped from his responsibilities and his home, jumping off into the sea. The man, who had been born in a family that bore the name of a flower, had run away and gained freedom.
He yearned for it – for a freedom that no one could steal from him – more than anything. Even if he had to cast away his little brother for it. Therefore, the man had done the same in the beast’s case. The one who mattered most to him was himself. He wanted to break free from that horror. Most likely, he had cut off from himself a child in need of salvation.
Everything went around.
——O God, I want to                                .
Everything.
   A voice that sounded like bells echoed.
“Captain,” it whispered, as if to tickle the man’s ears. “Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”
It was evening. A time when people were returning to their homes.
“What would you like to do?”
An orange light shone from the window inlaid with stained glass. With the sunset reflected on the elaborately designed interior decoration, the place itself looked like a single work of art.
“Could it be that, because of the impact earlier, your hearing has...”
It was supposed to be. The place where the person who called out so insistently and the person who intentionally ignored her were in was an art gallery that just recently had its interior and exterior finished.
“As if.”
“I am relieved. Then, I would like to ask if you have a plan.”
In a place they were not supposed to be at, the two who were not supposed to be together were kneeling on the floor in resignation.
“Captain.”
“.............................”
“The civilians are in a predicament.”
“................................”
“Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”
“............”
“What would you like to do?”
“..................”
“I would like to ask if you have a plan, by any chance.”
“.....................”
“The civilians are in a predicament.”
“........................”
“If I may offer my opinion, firstly, I could act as a decoy—”
“Be quiet, monster. Don’t keep repeating the same thing over and over. Don’t breathe either. I’m thinking right now.”
Dietfried Bougainvillea, a naval captain of Leidenschaftlich, eldest son of the Bougainvillea – a household of patriotic national heroes – and the man who had picked up Violet Evergarden in the past and brought her to this country, was covering his eyes with his hands due to having too much on his plate. The little bit of silence and darkness had brought him relief, but someone’s sobbing, the voice of a man reproaching it and the sound of a person being brutally kicked and tumbling down dragged him back to reality.
He had a severe headache. Whether it was caused by his anxiety or his injury, he had no idea. He put a hand on the back of his head and examined it, but only a bit of blood had come out.
In order to somehow spit such awful mood out of his body, he took deep breaths. He felt that he had become a little better, but the unpleasant sensation returned once he opened his eyes and cast his gaze at the woman next to him. A spoon of discomfort, rejection and fear each was thrown into Dietfried’s emotional vessels, set on fire and boiled up. However, the most prominent feeling was something else.
The woman who had been talking to him so insistently until a moment ago was now quiet just and not letting out a single breath as he had told her. Violet Evergarden.
Dietfried looked fixatedly at his former servant. The woman, whose appearance had transfigured considerably in comparison to when they had first met, bore a radiantly shining cold beauty, which was even more conspicuous under such tense circumstances. She was almost like an ice sculpture, Dietfried thought.
——Even though you used to stink like a wild beast...
She now smelled of nothing but flowers.
——...you turned out just as I’d imagined.
“You’re a siren.”
Silence.
“My little brother destroyed a train station just to keep you alive; you’re a siren through and through. I’m not into you, but my mental stability is wrecked right now, and I’m sensing the harmfulness and influence that your existence brings about in that. You’re unmatched when it comes to breaking things and causing problems.”
Dietfried had once told his brother that the beast could become a siren. He had meant to say so including all sorts of matters. This young woman named Violet was a creature that God had created by mistake and had not been born under a good star. When one was by her side, there were many of them.
“Damn troublemaker.”
Many problems. Even though she had not wished for it, she had been born this way. Under a star that attracted disasters.
——It goes round. All of it.
He ran and ran from her, yet they would end up meeting, thus Dietfried had started to think that it might be some sort of divine revelation at this point. Telling him to face the girl that he had thrown away.
Violet was still, hand on her brooch. He someway guessed that it was given to her by his younger brother. He felt like clicking his tongue. This girl might become the worst-ever wife whose hand his most beloved little brother was going to take.
——We can leave that for later; gotta overthrow this situation first.
Determined to fight this reality, Dietfried then turned his gaze towards the sight that spread out before his eyes. Women, men, elderly people – everyone was crouching on the floor with guns pointed at them regardless of anything. Obviously, the same applied to Dietfried and Violet.
Unexpected situations – situations in which they could not make a false move even if they were on their own, let alone in the presence of so many civilians – were responsible for this. On top of it, Dietfried was also saddled with someone that he had to protect despite not wanting to. Of course he would feel like clicking his tongue at it.
Perhaps they were thought to be lovers, as no one said anything even while they stayed close to each other.
“Hey, did you really stop breathing?”
She did not seem to be in agony, but her figure as she diligently obeyed made Dietfried feel uneasy.
“I was joking; breathe.”
Violet’s blue eyes blinked with a snap.
“Yes.”
And then, she finally let out a breath. Dietfried hated himself for being remotely relieved that she had safely started breathing again, was what he thought.
“Hey, you.”
“Yes.”
“From now on, follow my orders. Don’t act on your own accord.”
“All right.”
“I’m gonna save the civilians. It’s my duty. There’s no helping it, so I’m counting you in that math too... No idea what my little brother would do if he found out I’d let you die. Even if it weren’t on purpose, if anything that could kill you happened under these circumstances, I really have no way of knowing what he’d do. He’d probably hate me.”
“No, Captain, he—”
“Have some self-awareness, Monster. My foolish younger brother blew up a train station to let you live. This fact did turn into a subject of teasing towards Gil for no matter how much time passes from now, but if you think about it on normal terms, it’s out of the ordinary. That’s the way you’ve changed him. Damn witch...”
She was the tool that he had found and that used to exist for his sake. A woman who used to be a dog with no name. An orphan whom he had picked up from a solitary island, brought back with him, attempted to get the most out of yet was unable to, and then threw away.
Asset. Girl soldier. Automatic assassination doll. Witch.
——Even if I don’t want to, for now, I gotta protect this thing and take it home.
“I’ll save you, so you save me too, Witch.”
Fate went around, adding a chance meeting as the best seasoning for a finishing touch. After all, at this very moment, Violet Evergarden and Dietfried Bougainvillea were being attacked by robbers and had weapons thrust at them.
“That’s awfully unpleasant for me, but I’ll take action by considering your life to be the top priority. Not for you. For my little brother.”
Understanding that she had received permission to talk once she had received permission to breathe, Violet gave her own opinion, “No.” She did it directly, without any restraint. “No, that is my job, Captain. Major... Lord Gilbert loves you.”
Dietfried’s eyes blinked. Those green orbs were staring fixatedly at Violet since earlier, enough to seem like they would suck her in. They were green jewels in a different shade from his younger brother’s. Those green gems, enveloped in shock, reflected Violet’s serious gaze.
“I shall guard you, no matter what happens,” Violet declared with resolution, like a knight. “I will obey your orders to the best of my abilities, but if I judge it to be dangerous, I shall take action with your safeguarding as the maximum priority.”
“Hey.”
“I will definitely protect you and bring you to Major safely. Please do not leave my side, Captain.”
“That’s my line,” Dietfried said while nonetheless wanting to kill Violet.
   For the exchange between the two to reach this stage, things had first begun when morning visited Leidenschaftlich. This might be going back much too far in time for a clarification, but it all had indeed started since daybreak.
The morning weather was overflowing with sunlight on that day – typical of Leidenschaftlich in early summer. Early rising ladies formed queues in the bakeries that opened at dawn and little birds flew about the shops’ surroundings to receive breadcrumbs. There was a café three stores away from one of the popular bakeries, famous for serving floral teas, its signboard girl preparing to open it. If one went further ahead, there was a bank, and round said bank, there was a main street lined with large-scale shops.
An art gallery arranged to open the next day had been erected on the main street. Its name was Artemisia. It bore the name of its owner, who was an artist.
The gallery Artemisia displayed the works of its proprietor, of course, but it also had works of artists from within and abroad Leidenschaftlich. There were rows of works from unknown young artists that the owner had taken interest in as well, devoted as she was to the cultivation of new talents.
The Artemisia Gallery, which was to become a place where novel forms of Leidenschaftlich’s art would be born, was scheduled to hold a pre-opening party today, attended only by the people concerned. The gallery’s staff had started cleaning its interior and the sidewalk in front of it from morning.
Around noon, a restaurant employee hired for the sake of that day had visited, bringing in wine, snacks and table sets. As for the dishes, there were two types: the ones that had already been prepared and the ones that would be made by borrowing the kitchen of the owner’s residence, which had been built on the gallery’s top floor. Since eating was not the main focus, the preparations were merely enough for the upcoming guests not to feel hungry.
As evening came, the inside of Artemisia began to speed up with haste. If there were anyone in command of such a scenery, they would likely be asserting with a baton: “hurry”, “faster”, “elegantly”.
An envelope closed with a wax seal bearing the establishment’s crest. Customers arrived one after another with the invitation taken from inside of it at hand. For a pre-opening party with a limited number of invitees, there was a large amount of people. The elect few of Artemisia’s employees were in a flurry of activity.
“Bring me a coat” here, “not enough drinks” there, a plate breaking somewhere. “Where’s the owner?”, “Got caught by the guests”. “There’s no one to give us instructions”, “Oh, well” – just like this, things descended into chaos behind the scenes.
Normally, their job was to calmly recommend artistic goods. Therefore, they were unable to hide their bewilderment at handling so many visitors at first. Nevertheless, if one looked at the guests being entertained, how were they? Appreciating the artworks, looking like they were having a blast. Upon seeing this, the employees were able to understand deep down. That “what, so things are the same as usual”. By the time that the customers were completely familiar with the gallery’s interior, the employees were able to show smiles with a little bit of ease.
Among the guests invited to Artemisia, a foreign body completely unrelated to this world was mixed in.
It was a woman. A beautiful one at that. From an appreciative viewpoint, there would be nothing to complain about if she were one of the artworks. She was clad in a ribbon-tie one-piece dress, snow-white as a flower in full bloom on a summer day. Her long, softly curved golden hair extended to her waist. Perhaps she had come straight from work, as she held a heavy-looking trolley bag on one hand. “Click, click,” knocked her cocoa-brown boots against the marble flooring each time she took a step.
She walked while observing every artwork one by one. Idyllic landscape paintings, abstract paintings that looked like silver ink spilled on pure-white paper, oil paintings in which the people seemed as if they would move at any moment. Glassworks and ceramics that one would be very afraid even to look at from nearby. At first, the exhibition was of works from artists renowned within the country, but the small hall of its latter half integrated displays from artists who were still nameless. The woman stopped in front of one such work.
A painting of whimsical fantasy. Was it a winter sea? It depicted various things falling and sinking into dark and cold water. A pocket watch, a feather, a bed, a knife, a white flower and a chair. All were worn-out and had damaged parts. At first glance, one would not know what it was expressing. Only the boy painted in the center seemed to pierce through the viewer.
He was still a teenager and his appearance could also be considered that of a girl. After staring at him for a while, the feeling that he was supposed to be saved would surface. Because the boy had a facial expression that almost looked like he was making eye contact with the viewer as he fell. But this could not come true. He was sinking in the picture. No one on this side could do anything. One would not know what to do with themselves after looking at it – it was that kind of picture.
“Excuse me; I was the one who painted this. Is there anything wrong with this painti...”
Suddenly, a voice called to the woman from behind. A rock thrown into the quiet atmosphere. A low tone that cut through the dimness of the room.
People were mostly heading towards the famous artists, so the woman had been all by herself on that spot until just now. The man who had showed up a bit late was coincidentally the creator of that fantastical painting, and found himself talking to the woman who had stopped in front of his art. That was an extremely natural encounter for a pair. If their positions, circumstances and everything else were different, something might have been born between them. It did not have to be romantic love, just something – something else that “the two of them originally had”.
“Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”
The moment the woman turned around, the space resounded with a loud squeak. It actually had not resounded, but at the very least, Dietfried heard the thump of his own heartbeat, which gave his whole body goosebumps. He was enveloped in a strange sensation, as if the blood inside him were flowing backwards. One of the things he had once evaded in his life was standing there.
“What’re you doing, Monster?”
Violet Evergarden.
Before the emerald eyes that Dietfried possessed, of a hue different from his younger brother’s, there was a young female Auto-Memories Doll. The reason why he had not recognized her from the back was likely that her golden hair was slovenly loose.
He had not had a chance to see her after she had become a grown-up ever since the incident during the Flying Letters. Only people who had great amount of interaction with each other would be able to tell such a thing just by looking at someone’s back.
“I was looking at the paintings, Captain.”
Violet was expressionless. However, her hand alone promptly searched for her emerald brooch and squeezed it.
“You, paintings? Can you understand them?”
First, a scornful laugh, and then a head start with a verbal attack. She needed to put up a defense line. After all, this girl was formerly a weapon. An automatic assassination doll.
“I cannot. It is just that... my eyes and legs stopped.”
She was the one and only woman that Dietfried feared. If he had run into anyone else, his emotions would not be so disrupted.
Dietfried was scared. This girl was terrifying.
“I caused you trouble last time.”
He knew the things she had done. He knew whom she had killed. And he also recalled how he used to treat her, telling himself that it was all right.
“By asking about Major.”
Because she was a monster.
——O God, I want to                                .
These words wandered about in his head. They were words that he had prayed in his childhood to the one that he would meet at some point – probably in his dying moments. Thinking back on it now, it had been a foolish, immature and helpless wish, but he was serious about it at the time.
Looking at this girl made him remember his embarrassing past self.
“I shall see myself out. Captain, please take your time.”
“Hey.”
Violet had decided to retreat from the place, putting it to action. She concluded that this would be a peaceful solution for both sides and that it would secure each other’s survival.
“Hey, wait.”
However, Dietfried still had something that he wanted to say.
At the call of restraint, Violet’s feet halted mid-step. She then gazed at Dietfried. “Why?” her eyes were asking.
Choosing to leave must have been her own way of showing respect. Considering the current and the previous relationship between two of them, it was a sound judgement. Hence, she stared at him presumptuous and mutely.
Even now, it pierced Dietfried. That quiet “why” perforated him.
Despite being the one who had told her to wait, Dietfried lost sight of his next words. He had tons of complaints. Rather, complaints were the only thing that ever came out of his mouth. Most likely, he had never presented any warm words or attitude to her. No, he had at least patted her head when they parted. But what about it? That was all he had done. Which perhaps was the reason why.
——What did you think of that painting?
Just a question like this was exceptionally challenging for him. If it were anyone else, he would surely be able to ask as easily as breathing. He could also boast that he was the one who had painted it. However, only with this woman was it so difficult.
A long silence drifted between the two. A truly long, long silence.
The mood was almost like two beasts had come across each other in the wilderness and were estimating which would attack first. Both were underdeveloped and, not matching their insides, only their appearances were actually full-fledged. Seen from the sidelines, they were a beautiful adult man and woman looking at each other, but the air flowing between them was that of a battlefield.
Dietfried was starting to sweat. As for Violet, even her breathing was becoming shallower.
Violet seemed to be thinking about something. She opened and closed her mouth, repeating it several times. What should she do in that situation? What was best? She was probably unable to decide. This was something that not just Violet but also Dietfried was thinking about, yet the degree of seriousness in behavior was surprisingly higher on Violet’s side.
She would normally not be like this.
He was the person that even Violet Evergarden, who had written so many letters, was at loss as to how to act around. That was the man called Dietfried.
Perhaps her thinking had eventually arrived to a conclusion, Violet left her baggage on the floor and put her hands behind her back. “Feel free to.”
At first, Dietfried had no idea what she was doing. Violet looked like she was offering her body.
“Ha...?”
Without hesitation, almost as if she were a tool.
“I am still. Feel free to.”
“Feel free to feast on my life,” she seemed to say. Her current self overlapped with the beast of the past.
“To do what, is what I’m asking...” Dietfried’s mouth felt sticky, giving him a hard time mustering words out. His head had been occupied mostly with how to mend the blunder that he had exposed to her, so he could not respond to Violet’s surprise attack immediately.
“Do you not remember? I used to do this whenever I had to receive reprimand or punishment.”
He could not. All of the information that had been fluttering about in Dietfried’s head until now disappeared. It vanished.
“You, what the...”
The owner of the blue eyes that stared at Dietfried as if to shoot through him always did unexpected things, tossing him about.
“I did not know how to speak back then, so in order to show that I had no intention to attack you, Captain, I would do this.”
Those eyes.
“No matter what I say, surely... there is no atonement for me. With time, I have come to understand the things I... did. And how much terror I made you go through. Nevertheless, I am grateful for the kindliness of placing me under Lord Gilbert. I wish to pay you back somehow. If you say that it is unnecessary, at the very least, do as you please.”
For whatever reason, when those eyes asked him “why”...
“Be it with fists or with reproach, as much as you want.”
...his chest ached as if it had been stabbed.
“Feel free to.”
If that place were not a quiet art gallery, Dietfried would have yelled furiously at her, without caring about shame or his reputation. He managed to ball his fists hard enough for it to hurt and swallow down his angry voice due to his high level of self-respect.
“I hate that about you...”
This girl always made him aware that she would never act as he expected.
“...to death.”
At the words spoken by Dietfried’s quivering tone, Violet took a step back. Her stance of offering herself did not change, but her instincts were on-guard, wondering if she was not going to be killed by this man. Seeing that, Dietfried sneered at her figure.
“You’re the one who could choke the life out of me anytime,” he seemed to say.
Dietfried suddenly felt the heat that had gone up his head cooling down. Violet had taken a step back. That became the trigger for him to regain his composure. Because he was able to reconfirm that she was but a child in the end. This innocent aspect and action that were much like what a child would show to an adult exerted a great influence on the other party. Dietfried loathed that.
For he, who despised interventions from anyone, had so much aversion to it that it make him want to vomit.
Those who were accustomed to oppression from others would very easily choose to hurt people. She was inwardly frightened of that tendency. Yet albeit frightened, she prioritized others over herself. That creature was like a mass of contradictions.
——Disgusting. Stop. Die. Don’t look at me.
He did not want to get involved with her. But he had a mountain of things to say. However, when it came to whether or not he could properly do it, even if he managed to squeeze them out, they would turn into nothing but abusive language.
There was a large lake between the two of them and all they could do was gaze at the opposite shore, unable to tell how deep it was. Their first meeting was to blame for that. It was the cause of everything.
His underlings had attacked her and she had killed all of them. She then chased and chased after him, making him into her master. Despite there being a hierarchy, Violet was the one who had a grip over his life.
One would understand, after spending time with the girl, that this was a necessity for her. She was always like that, ever since the island only the two of them knew. Whenever anything happened, she would prioritize Dietfried. After all, even as he handed her over to Gilbert, she had not resisted.
If anything could be changed, that was the moment.
The two who never mingled with each other met again countless times in a parallel line. On such occasions, they would become unable to make a move due to shouldering the truth of rejection and of the things they had done, thus running away.
——Gilbert.
What did the person who brought the two together, whom they loved most, thought of that?
“You... I...”
——If I could change for Gilbert...
“Captain...?”
——If I could change, right here and now, for your sake...
Would it be easier for him to breathe?
Just as Dietfried was about to make a bitter decision...
“GYAAAAAAAAAH—AAAAAAH—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
...an incident occurred.
   It was clearly not a hasty crime. The scream of Artemisia, the owner, echoed, and by the time that Dietfried and Violet had bolted from the quiet hall where there was just the two of them, robbers were already thrusting their weapons mostly at vulnerable women and children, having them on their knees. The course of action was far too swift.
Wide-eyed, Violet swung back her trolley bag and was about to throw it at them, yet Dietfried stopped her.
“Are you stupid?! Those aren’t all adults that can run...!”
Among the hostages, there was also a little girl held under someone’s arms, looking like she did not understand the situation.
“I will save them as fast as possible and take control of the rest.”
“They’ve got guns; what’re you gonna do if they hit someone else with a warning shot?! There’s the other artworks too... This ain’t a stage for a tactless bastard like you to brawl! Just stay put for now!”
“But, Captain—”
“Stay put!”
While the two were trying to push past each other, the robbers took notice of them.
In the main hall, perhaps in order to bind people up through fear, the men were being beaten without exception, being put on their knees over the floor. Seeing that, the women naturally sat down, trembling, and began to cry.
While screams were resounding like music, one of the robbers headed towards the duo. “So there were still weeds growing here?” was the look in his eyes as he swung his firearm emotionlessly.
Dietfried would have managed to avoid it. He had done it several times until now. He could do it as easily as floating on water. If he could catch the man’s gun with one hand and pulled it just like that, he was able to picture the opponent falling over as a reaction. Once he stole the gun, he could shoot each member of the robber gang one by one in the head. And then, there would be a gunfight. He would have done that if he were alone. Yes, if he were alone.
——Why now of all times?
There was nothing more humiliating than a punch that one had to resign oneself into receiving. But he had things he had to protect above his own dignity. Thus, he accepted the attack without dodging. If he were to start a scuffle amidst the current situation, he did not think that all of the people who had become hostages would remain unharmed. He would aim for a chance. That was what he should do. He made such decision not only for his own welfare but also for that of other people.
However, the automatic assassination doll made a completely different one. When her eyes glinted like that, she quite literally moved on automatic. She came forward to take his place. In that instant, the face of Dietfried’s younger brother was the only thing crossing his mind.
——Gil.
It was almost as if he had readied himself to do it. That was how quickly his arm reached out. He forcefully embraced Violet and turned his back towards the robber. A violent hit struck him from head to back. He could hear Violet’s breath quietly catching while holding her in his arms.
And such was how they had arrived to the present.
   Dietfried did not think that his decision to suppress Violet was a mistake. He was aware that she was the woman who had fought by herself against terrorists inside an exploding train, but it would be a problem if she did something of the sort in the Artemisia Gallery.
Right now, he felt like a pet owner containing the rampage of his mad dog.
As for the mad dog herself, she had grown quiet ever since Dietfried had been hit, as if her functions were gone. Dietfried had pushed away the hands that had attempted to give him first aid. Any false moves and the robbers might beat him again.
She, who always took upon herself to protect, wound up being protected. On top of that, she had let the other be injured. This must have caused her to fall into despondency, enough to result in service outage. However, with time, she had rebooted and was rousing herself up once more to get through this situation.
“I understand that I should refrain from the use of force in an art gallery. But should we not place human lives above the artworks?”
——Whose fault do you think it is that I got hit on the back of my head?
Because she was saying the most obvious thing with the most serious face, Dietfried grabbed the collar where her brooch resided, taking the brooch along, without thinking. The thread that fastened the ribbon-tie dress’s button let out a screech. It was not the kind of deed that a gentleman would do to a lady. But Dietfried did not loosen the strength that he put into his grip.
“You... Do you still need disciplining from me?” he said, voice filled with rage, close enough for their faces to touch. “Think of this as a place that can hardly compare to any other... This thing’s pretty important for you, isn’t it?”
After blinking with a snap, she opened her mouth once, then closed it.
Once Dietfried’s hand let go of her, she grasped the brooch as if to protect it. She was more concerned about the brooch than the crumpled bust of her dress. She stroked it over and over, making sure that it had not been damaged.
Finally, she whispered in a dazed state, “I understand.”
“As if an idiot could,” Dietfried said with a snort, yet the other was a poker-faced Auto-Memories Doll. No matter how much he hurt her, it would have no effect. That was what Dietfried had thought.
“I understood completely. I will avoid combat here as much as possible.” Alas, her voice sounded a little faint.
Dietfried stared at Violet from the corners of his eyes. The brooch was indeed important to her. She was holding it down with both hands. She did not want anyone to touch it – that was what she was indicating. The two of them were speaking in an awfully low tone, but her timbre just now was as thin as the cry of a mosquito.
Dietfried said with a somewhat softer voice, “Good that you get it. I’m indebted to the owner of this gallery. I’m gonna choose the best I can for her sake too.”
“All right.”
“Human lives are the priority, of course. But we’re not gonna fight in a stupid way.”
Like a child, Violet nodded repeatedly.
“You’ve only ever been doing body guarding, murders and military action, and that’s why you don’t understand. In the sea... In fleet battles, we fight to protect. Our way of thinking is different from those who fight to conquer.”
“To protect...”
“If you can’t put brakes on them at sea, the enemies go to land. The reason why Leidenschaftlich is called a military nation ain’t just the army’s achievement. I’ve... never taught you how to fight at sea, huh... For now, forget the method of destroying and taking control of everything. Learn from my ways.”
“Understood.”
Dietfried was inwardly surprised at the obedient reply. Rather, even more than this, he was surprised that he and the “beast” were able to have mutual comprehension.
When she was in his hands, this beautiful Auto-Memories Doll was a “wild beast” that did not know how to speak, as well as a tool. An incontrollable beast, to boot.
“Still, if that is how it is, please do not forget that your wellbeing is my top priority all the more. I shall fight to protect you, Captain. Please do not think of protecting me for Lord Gilbert’s sake. If necessity arises, I will not might if you use me as a shield. I can be replaced, but there is no substitute for you.”
If, at that time...
“This is also linked to protecting Lord Gilbert.”
...in that place...
“Bye, Monster. This guy’s your next master.”
...he had educated and guided her instead of letting her go, would she have grown up the same way?
“Shut up.”
Would she have thought like that?
“Shut up, Monster.”
He had never even thought about it.
Another side of him immediately answered “no” to the self-questioning. Surely, a Violet Evergarden raised by Dietfried Bougainvillea would not have turned out like this. He might have at least taught her how to talk. They would have trouble communicating otherwise. He would have probably given her clothes and personal belongings for daily life. Bringing her along when walking around would look bad for him.
However, when it came to whether or not he would have bestowed this girl with something that would be enveloped in her hands with utmost zeal...
——I see; so it’s the same color as Gilbert’s eyes. That brooch.
...he would undeniably have not.
——Come to think of it, she was always following me around from behind ‘cause she hated being alone.
If there was anything he could have done for her, it was to at least fill up a coffin with flowers and leave it available for her. He did not intend for anything to happen, but he might have done that much. After all, if Violet had stayed beside Dietfried Bougainvillea, she would have surely died before him, for his sake.
“We’re gonna do an act.”
——Aah, Gilbert.
“An act?”
——I’m always late to realize how great you are.
“That’s right. You’re the one who suggested it, so I’m gonna make you into a decoy.”
——You’ve made that filthy beast into this.
“Understood.”
——You were able to change her like this.
“First, take this... It’s late for that, but... you got any questions about a joint struggle with me?”
As Dietfried asked, Violet responded with her neck tilted, “Why...? I do not.”
For whatever reason, his former weapon would show scraps of emotion only at times like these. Just innocently, unaware that it was merciless of her.
“Please use me correctly, Captain.” She smiled.
   Why had robbers attacked the Artemisia Gallery?
There was a certain amount of history that led to such violence unfolding amidst everyday life. Firstly, it would be preferable to start with the time when a turning point happened in the life of the robbery’s main offender, but that would be rewinding too far. On to a brief explanation.
This case was a crime committed by a habitual criminal.
There were various reasons for people to rob, yet the advantage was but one. Earning compensation within a short period. Good citizens would be paid for their work, but thieves did not share this mentality. People received rewards through serving others. In order to gather a large sum, a long time and effort were necessary. Thieves abdicated from this. To achieve success, no matter in what land, a person had to be equipped with skills as a rule of thumb.
If one could stop after doing it once, why did they do it countless times? There were people here and there who thought this about criminals. It was because, if they had succeeded once, they could do it again. They were instantly able to attain things that they would have to spend a long time out of their lives to earn. This was the arrival of an opportunity to do that.
Once one got used to it, identifying opportunities was surprisingly easy.
Supposing that there was someone who excelled at predicting people’s thoughts. The other person’s personality would be determined by the movements of their eyes, the way they breathed, their voice tone, the relationships of power in their background, their social position and other such things, so one would be able to deduce what kind of conduct should be taken in order to derive the “correct answer”. It seemed like magic at first glance, but it was no more than the result of someone continuously keeping watch on another person for many years.
Since this was a strategy against individual matches, the robbers needed a slightly better ability to grasp the environment. As they were walking around the city, they incidentally found out that a new gallery was going to open. The opening date was also announced. It appeared that there would be an event only for those concerned on the day before.
No matter the establishment, dealing flawlessly with the inauguration of a new shop was difficult. Even if there were people in it who already had experience working in a gallery, but the use of their abilities to have control over such a situation and proceed with it smoothly was different. Employees would be in quite a panic on the day. If it was a members-only celebration day, there was no mistaking that the original state of the security that should be guarding the gallery would be insufficient.
And so, the robbers had thought, “Aah, if you poke this place, it’ll surely crumble down.”
They did not have any grudges in particular. They had simply judged that they could do it, thus undergoing the assault. The truth was merely that the Artemisia Gallery had been unlucky.
How many hardships the owner had gone through until she was able to open the gallery, had she lived her life bowing her head to other people? How many artists were looking forward to seeing their work exhibited in the gallery? The feelings of such people could be trampled miserably at times.
Not that many people paid any mind to weeds when walking. That was all. Except, this time, the Artemisia Gallery had been lucky about just one thing.
“No good... Hum, excuse me...! She suddenly...!”
A naval captain who loved art...
“Ugh...”
...and the woman who used to be called Leidenschaftlich’s War Maiden were amongst the hostages.
The man who had caused a commotion and pleaded to one of the robbers in a panic raised both of his hands as a display of no resistance. He was a long-haired a man. His slightly curvy dark hair went past his shoulders. Right next to him was a woman holding her stomach and trembling.
“What?”
A few armed men gathered around them.
“It seems her stomach hurts.”
“Just a stomach ache? Leave it alone.”
“You’re telling us to let her go to the bathroom? We still gotta watch these people. Besides, she’s a woman. If someone takes her to the toilet... Well, how much stuff did we get?”
“We’ve piled most of the paintings in the carrier, but there’s still the ornaments. It’s still gonna take a while.”
The robbers had a choice. The option to either silently let her suffer or kindly take her to the restroom. Beating only the men was likely one of their policies. They did not hesitate to make use of violence when needed, but when it was not, it was best to have as least animosity as possible in order to get through with things unobtrusively and quickly take the treasure. It seemed gentlemanly but was a self-righteous thinking.
“What do we do? The Head is...”
“The Head got in the car first. As if we can ask him stuff like this every single time it happens.”
“Head” probably referred to the member worthy of being their chief.
As the quiet exchanges continued in front of the agonizing woman, she finally lay down on the floor while still holding onto her stomach. The man who had appealed about her bad condition shook her shoulders, telling her to “hang in there”.
As if she had received a signal, the woman raised her face slowly. Her gemstone-like blue eyes were visible through the gaps between her disheveled golden hair. She was covering her mouth, perhaps trying not to vomit. Even so, it was easy to tell that the woman’s looks were remarkably good.
“It’s gonna take a while, huh. Besides, we’re gonna need the women later.”
Her eyes locked with one of robber’s as though sucking him in. One would not understand the destructive power that having this woman look up at them from their feet with her eyes wet had, unless they witnessed it themselves.
“Then, I guess it’s okay.”
From the vulgar smile of the man who had said so, one could presume what his intentions were. As the woman was covering her mouth, the robber instructed her to stand up, pointing his gun at her, and then took her to the restroom.
After that, the woman and the robber did not return for a while. Since there were no other people who mustered out the courage to say that they wanted to use the toilet, the period of their absence passed as if it were natural. In the meantime, the gallery’s exhibits were being carried one after another to cars with roof racks parked outside the establishment. The robbers were dressed as employees who worked with the transportation of goods, so even those walking down the street did not think there was anything strange about that work scene.
Once they had finished relocating most of the merchandises, one of the cars left the gallery. The other one that remained parked was meant for the getaway of those who were keeping watch. With the artworks that had been collected for the sake of this day snatched away down to the last one, the gallery was bare. The owner, Artemisia, had all the while been suppressing her cries and shedding tears.
Apparently, those thieves were quite the habitual criminals. They had threatened everyone with armed force upon entering the establishment, robbing people of any resistance, but after that, as long as everyone stayed still, they would do nothing but coldly keep control of the hostages, not even raising their voices. If people did as told, they would not lose their lives. That hope made the hostages obedient. Even though they were robbers, this seamless way of dealing with people was like that of artisans. They did not think of humans as humans.
“Excuse me; I just... want to lend her a handkerchief. That’s all. The sleeves of her clothes are already soaked with tears. Can’t you allow just this much?”
Hearing a voice from the back, Artemisia turned around. It came from one of the artists that she had invited over for today, whom she had known for quite some time. She was shaken by a sense of guilt that she had done something terrible to him as well.
Their first meeting had started at a certain recreational facility, when she peeked from behind while he was painting a landscape. She did not know his occupation, but they kept in touch and she had him show her his art. It seemed he had always been drawing as a hobby. He told her that even most of the people who were close to him did not know he painted, and that he had truly only been doing it for himself.
The busy man had weaved his way through spare time and the work he brought had swayed Artemisia’s senses. At first, he had hesitated at her request to put it on display, but then smiled like a boy and gave her his ready consent, looking happy.
——Aah, God. Please give it back. Please give that fun time back to everyone.
Artemisia was upset and vexed at the fact that the artworks were being stolen, but more than anything, it felt like the regret towards everyone who had been looking forward to this day would split her chest open.
“Hey, he told you to use this.”
He had lent a handkerchief to Artemisia through one of the robbers. Artemisia wiped her tears and managed to lock eyes with him somehow. She then mouthed a “thank you” to him without letting out her voice.
The man smiled. But it was not the smile that Artemisia knew. He was different when he talked about art. She had shivers before she could think. His eyes were not smiling.
“                              .”
The man said something to Artemisia. As he had only moved his lips, Artemisia could not tell whether she had been able to read what he tried to convey. She could not, but most likely, he had said:
“It’ll be over soon.”
Eventually, the robbers started to create an atmosphere of evacuation at last.
“Let’s take one person with us until we leave the harbor. Can be a woman or kid. Which do we choose?”
“Woman it is.”
“That guy was playing around with the woman we were planning to use for that, wasn’t he? What happened to him?”
Assuming that they would finally be freed, the hostages started fidgeting. They had faced a disaster and the artworks that they had dedicated their lives to making had been stolen. This joyful day had been repainted into despair. But they were alive. That was the one and only bright side of today. They would not be able to maintain their rationality unless they comforted themselves with that. At any rate, they wanted to hurry and be liberated.
Amongst them, there was a man who merely observed the robbers’ movements in silence all the while. It was the man who had been caring for a woman that had a stomachache, looking worried. Once the woman had been taken to the restroom, he became expressionless, as if he had lost interest in everything. Occasionally, there were moments when he even yawned in secret, as if he had grown sleepy.
“Go call him. We could use that woman as hostage. She’s young, so she can come back walking if we throw her away on the street.”
Hearing these words, the man let out his voice and laughed. By the looks of it, he had not intended to laugh, but wound up doing so. He put a hand to his mouth, but then shrugged and let the robbers see it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you. But trying to rape that thing, huh? No matter how many lives you have, it wouldn’t be enough.”
“Hey, what’s with you...? Got a complaint or something...?”
The man kept laughing, as though to say that the robbers’ threatening figures were even more comical. With her eyes, the owner, Artemisia, begged the man provoking the robbers to restrain himself, for she could not afford to lose not only the artworks that she had collected but also a guest that she had invited, yet the man closed one eye at that and replied, “Artemisia, it’s okay.”
No one in this place knew his social status. Or his history.
In the past, Dietfried Bougainvillea used to wield a weapon that could become the world’s best. It was now away from his grasp, but it was not as if their master-servant connection had been completely severed. The beast had a high level of loyalty, so although they had met by chance after a long time, her heart recognized it. That he was the one she had been following in the past – someone worth being served by her. Therefore, the beast would attend him to exhaustion.
Only a limited number of people could handle the beast. The feeling that she had returned to his hands for now was somewhat strange.
“She runs quick.”
“Ha?”
“That’s why it’s the end for you guys. My bad.”
“Hey, shut this dude up.”
As Dietfried had suddenly started talking, the robbers naturally had a doubtful reaction.
“She’s as fast as a deer. And this is the city’s main street, so there are hotels nearby.”
“So, what’re you saying?”
“I left my bodyguards behind to come here today. They’re probably drinking at their room’s bar. There’re also guys among them who know that thing from the time when she was still by my side. I left my hair tie with her, so she should be able to convince them with that. I could predict that you’d take the things you stole to the port. It’s pretty difficult to get away from pursuers on land when you make such a mess in the center of this city. It’s harder to be tracked using the sea route than the land route, right? But the sea route doesn’t work against me. It looks like one vehicle left a while ago, but it’s over by the point they reach the port. You’ll probably go outside now, but if you’re thinking about taking someone along as a hostage, you’d better drop it. Many of my subordinates are hot-blooded. If you rouse them up like that, they’ll probably get too excited. If that happens, you’re the ones who’ll be getting the short end of the stick. No matter how many dead bodies fall down, we can deal with it all we want in the aftermath. We’ll need to get the stories straight, but today’s hostages will surely choose to cooperate with me. Having people trample on the proof of a life that you’ve lived with all your might is painful for anyone.”
The eloquent man did not run out of breath even when speaking nonstop in such a situation. However, this majestic aspect of him was reflected in others’ eyes as dreadful and similar to madness.
The robbers abruptly realized that all the hostages were looking far behind them. They felt that there was something behind them. It was like a ghost, hiding even its flame of life, simply waiting for the orders of its lord.
Outside the windows of the gallery, they could hear the sounds of someone fighting from around the area where the car was parked. Simultaneously, they could hear a faint breathing just behind them.
The respiration of a woman who was out of breath from running loomed over their ears.
“Do it, Violet.” Dietfried raised his thumb and made a swift throat-cutting gesture.
While watching his doll render the robbers unconscious with a strength as overwhelming as a monster eating people, Dietfried reminisced to the past.
——Everything goes around.
He recalled the time when the two of them were stuck in that isolated island.
The beast had been scared when the rescue fleet arrived. So had Dietfried. He would not be able to bear it if more of his comrades were murdered. Hence, he had taken the beast’s hand and guided her to the outside world. In his perception, it was the same as taking the reins.
There were no reins anymore now. No need for him to pull her by the hand when walking, either. There was nothing between them.
Not love, passion, attachment, desire, anything.
“Captain.”
There was nothing, but one thing was for certain.
“Captain Bougainvillea.”
If he called for her, this Auto-Memories Doll would most likely go to the ends of the world to save him. That was her nature.
“I have just returned. Are you unharmed?”
At that moment, the beast was well aware that he had called her name for the very first time. Her eyes were crinkling.
“Yeah.”
Just this much compensation was enough to make the beast smile.
   After a little while passed, Leidenschaftlich was embraced by the gentleness of the night.
Summer constellations were decorating the jet-black sky. Just as sunny as it was during daytime, the night sky was twinkling so brightly this evening that it could be called a banquet of stars. The day was about to end in Leidenschaftlich. Today was filled with chaos ever since morning.
While being observed by gathered-up onlookers, the arrest drama that had unfolded in front of the Artemisia Gallery was already coming to a conclusion, its many procedures and processing passed over to the military police. Seeing the stolen artworks safely re-delivered to Artemisia, Dietfried took a breather. His gaze then fleetingly drifted to the side. A dirtied ceramic doll was standing there. A woman beautiful enough to look like such, who shone amidst the night, was standing there. He had to say something to her. As one would expect, he should do that at least now. But he could not think of anything.
——“You did well”. “That wasn’t too bad”. “Good work”. “I commend you”... Which one?
Inside his head, words were being conceived and then disappearing. Just like the dreams that the sleeping children all around Leidenschaftlich were surely seeing right now. They were born and then vanished.
At last, he attempted to open his mouth, “Aren’t you cold?”
“It is summer, after all.”
And ended up talking to her like a man who was unused to inviting women out.
Violet Evergarden, who had been fighting reasonably and in order to protect, was still by Dietfried’s side. It was fitting to say that she had been today’s most meritorious person. The one who had come up with the idea of the arrest operation was Dietfried, but the one who had done all the work for it was Violet.
First, she had put up the woman-with-a-stomachache act and gone with one of the robbers to the restroom. She had then quietly strangled the neck of the man who had reached a hand to her shoulder with her mechanical prosthetic arms, making him pass out.
She had broken out and escaped through the restroom’s window. Rather than going to the military police, she had gone to the hotel that Dietfried instructed her to and notified the naval soldiers, who were enjoying cigarettes and drinks in a room on the top floor, of the circumstances. One of the soldiers, who happened to know her, had been frightened at first, but upon seeing that she had been entrusted with Dietfried’s ribbon, his facial expression changed and he contacted the military police, then informed the port’s security to reinforce their inspections.
Without waiting for them to get ready, she had immediately run back to the Artemisia Gallery and infiltrated it through the same route. A few of the robbers, who had the bad luck of spotting her, fell to the ground with one kick or punch to the abdomen, and so, she had finally returned. As Violet stood behind the remaining robbers while catching her breath, the hostages stared as if she were their safety, but Dietfried was sneering as he looked at her.
Just as ordered, she had saved Dietfried without damaging a single artwork.
“About what happened...”
“It will probably be best not to tell Lord Gilbert. He would worry.”
Upon seeing the last artwork be brought in, Violet took the trolley bag that lay by her feet. She likely intended to go home by herself.
After making her do so much, something similar to guilt was now sprouting within Dietfried. He wound up acknowledging that she, too, was important to someone. That was what he thought after the battle, when he saw Violet stroking her emerald brooch as if to confirm that it was there.
Even though she used to be a wild beast whom no one would mourn if she died.
——Aah, that’s an excuse. It’ll be nothing but an excuse. If so, then I don’t wanna say it.
Back then, when she was by Dietfried’s side, every single day was filled with madness on all accounts. They used to roam around battlefields, fighting from dawn to dusk, growing too accustomed to violence. The war then ended, peace had returned, and he realized that an era in which he could even make art was arriving. That those times were abnormal and the way he felt now was the default.
“I’ll take you home.”
“No need. Your escorts must be waiting, so please, feel free to take your leave, Captain.”
“It’s fine; just this time. I’ll take you home.”
“No need.”
“I’ll take you. Listen up, this is an order.”
“I cannot accept your command.”
“You little... You were taking action like I instructed you to just a while ago.”
“Because it was a state of emergency... Besides, Captain Dietfried, it would be reasonable if I were to take you home, but the opposite is illogical.”
“What’re you talking about? You’re a woman, aren’t you?”
“A woman”. Finding himself asserting this with his own mouth, Dietfried regretted it even more.
The corner of Violet’s lips had a cut and blood was coming out of it. Her ribbon-tie dress was drenched in sweat. Even those who did not sweat much would be like this after such a huge scuffle during summertime.
“I’m calling a carriage. It’s all right; just wait right there. I’ll see you off until you get inside the Evergarden house. And then it’s goodbye. We’ll never see each other again. No matter what you and Gil become, we’ll never see each other again.”
What he had done today to this woman, who had become fully able to accept someone’s love, was not something that a son of the Bougainvillea should ever do to a lady.
After they had hopped into the carriage, a moment of silence went on for a while.
——Is it okay for her to keep such an open secret even though those two are a couple?
Dietfried found himself accidentally concerned about his younger brother’s love life. After all, this situation might be a betrayal to his dearest brother. Gilbert had completely forgiven Dietfried. For pushing the headship succession onto him. For not having any consideration for their family. For forcing an indescribable wild beast onto him. He had forgiven everything.
Thinking back, the only time that he attempted to push Dietfried away, saying he would not forgive him, had been when Dietfried offered Violet to him. He had called it “human trafficking”. Told Dietfried not to be violent with a child.
Most likely, those two were each other’s only exception from the very beginning. There was probably no pardoning what Dietfried had done to Violet today. Gilbert would forgive most things. Save for matters related to the one and only thing that was most important to him. Being hated by a loved one. This could cast a shadow over anyone’s heart, regardless of how old they were.
“It is all right.” The voice that cut through the silence was thrown at him as if to soothe him down. The words sounded almost as if she had perceived Dietfried’s uneasiness. “If, by any chance... word ends up reaching him through someone else about this case, I will definitely defend you, Captain Dietfried.”
“‘Defend’, you say?”
“To tell the truth, I often get involved in large-scale incidents without Major knowing. But I return without fail. To Leidenschaftlich. I will return today as well. Therefore, we are all right.”
“What do you do out there?”
“We were separated for much too long. Therefore, we have many moments that the other does not know about in the first place. Perhaps even now, too. I have work to do and so does he. We have limited time to see each other. However, I will definitely always return to Major. He knows this as well. Even when we are apart, that person is the only one who occupies my mind. I am not sure if I convey it to him properly, but that is how it is.”
Her statements were something that would normally make him burst into laughter, but Dietfried was unable to do so.
——When did you become like that?
Dietfried hated Violet. Several factors had induced his emotions to it.
——Now you can correspond to someone’s love.
He saw himself overlap with her. Her subservience to adults and the way that she herself wanted it disgusted him. He despised the wild beast that did not yearn for freedom. Despised the fact that she had been trained by someone to be this way. Despised everything. To begin with, Dietfried did not have many things that he liked.
Even the number of people who could become kind had a limit.
The truth was that, even if he wanted to be kind, it was no longer possible. He had prayed to God for it countless times in the past. However, unable to achieve this, a man named Dietfried Bougainvillea existed.
——O God, I want to, he begged a certain Someone in his mind for the first in a long time. Perhaps since his childhood.
Still, this sort of being did not give any reply to calls. Even now, he had no idea if his plea had reached Him. It was certainly impossible. His and Violet’s stars were in a position that would not radically change.
Nevertheless, for some reason, he had the overwhelming desire to ask someone for forgiveness today.
——I wanna go back.
Not even he knew where to.
——Hurry and be over, this day, today and the time I have to spend with her.
He was not annoyed.
——O God, I want to...
But painfully miserable.
“Captain.”
The carriage ran amongst trees dyed in the darkness of the night. A cool voice echoed amidst them.
Violet was looking at the scenery outside. She was observing the moon, which chased after them, no matter how far, far apart they were.
The moon was something that would continue to exist forever. Unlike stories. Regardless of whether Dietfried concerned himself with it, everything about his story would come to a closing one day as well. Demise would arrive even to the things that he did not wish to ever be over. Even the feelings he had now would end.
“How was I today?”
“What?”
“Did my work earn your satisfaction today?”
Dietfried could not read the intentions behind Violet’s question at all. She was someone whose emotions he could not read in the first place, but it was even harder to understand the meaning of that sentence.
“What do you want to say?”
Silence.
“Hey, just say it straight. Don’t be dodgy with me.”
“All right,” the cool voice entered his ears once more. Such coldness resembled the night, but it never left his ears, easy as it was to catch.
Violet turned her neck and cast her gaze at him. Slowly, blue and green eyes blended with each other.
“I...”
Bathed in moonlight, she was simply, purely beautiful, enough to take Dietfried’s breath away.
“When I was with you, Lord Dietfried, my work was never satisfactory. Now that I became an adult, have I finally been able to repay my debt... with my work?”
“What d’you mean by ‘debt’?”
His voice was hoarse. He suddenly felt as if this icy woman had robbed his entire body of its heat. The inside of his mouth was extremely dry.
“I mean everything. It all started when you brought me from that island. I am the way I am now because you entrusted me to Ma... to Lord Gilbert.”
“If you’d stayed with me, probably nothing good would’ve happened.”
“How would I be if I had continued to serve you?”
These words became a bullet and pierced Dietfried’s heart. He felt as if his breathing would stop at the unexpected question. Things had been like that since the distant past. Dietfried would reconfirm time and time again that she was a woman who could have become a lethal weapon for him.
“So you also imagine a hypothesis... of ‘what if’,” her exquisitely cold voice rang within the darkness. Upon being asked, “You too?”, Violet nodded.
That was his line, Dietfried thought, but Violet then sent his gemstone eyes a dream-like gaze. His existence might be devoid of realism to her.
Violet began to whisper. If only she had disobeyed that order back then. If only she had rushed to him a step faster at that time.
“Back then, if”. “Back then, if”. “Back then, if”.
She could not bring myself not to think that, if only she had had this extra step, he would not have lost that emerald eye.
“Besides, I wonder... if I had managed to protect him back then...”
She had to let go of her most beloved lord’s hand and was entrusted to someone else as if she had been thrown away.
“...I would not have had to spend that time away from Major.”
Thinking back, she had always been abandoned and then picked up by somebody. She should have been used to it. That was the star she had been born under.
She was originally a foreign body to this world and was supposed to have been eliminated. Her destiny had also flowed in this way. The reason why Violet had rebelled against her sectioned path, despite having been tamely submitting herself to it, was that the other was special.
——I also threw her away.
He had thrown his home away. Thrown away his little brother, who cried in protest. And thrown away this beast.
“I also wonder what would have happened if you had not left me with Major.”
This woman.
“But all of these are akin to dreams, crossing my mind and fading away. After passing through countless ‘if’s, I...”
He had pushed this woman onto his brother and forsaken her. Looking at her made him sick. He was also scared of her. Most importantly, he would have stopped being himself. This terrified him.
“And now, I have become an Auto-Memories Doll and am spending a night with you.”
This woman possessed an element that transmuted people.
“Y’know, you’ll be alone one day. You’re the one who’s got the longer lifespan, aren’t you?”
Violet closed her eyes at those words. If she had pictured numerous “if”s, this would obviously come to mind as well.
“I do not know.”
“If that happens, what’re you gonna do?”
“I do not know. But are you not the same as me when it comes to this? You love him, right?”
“I’m... I’m the older one. I’ll be gone sooner.”
“No one knows about that. But... if, one day... I do become alone... if I am left living by myself... my order will still be valid. I will probably live on.”
If she ended up living by herself, this supposition was the cruelest of things to the beast. Just what did he want to do by making her say this now?
Thinking back, ever since they had first met, he had not known how to deal with her. Should he have protected her? Killed her? Protected? Killed? Or perhaps...
“That is why I write letters every day. Even if they do not reach him, I write letters to Major every single day.”
Silence.
“Captain, what will you do?”
“Me, huh? I... let’s see. Paint, I guess.”
“A painting or Major?”
“That’s right.”
“May I go see it?”
To Dietfried Bougainvillea, this wild beast was both a woman and a monster from the very beginning. She was now as far-off as a dream.
“You’re the only one of my relatives who knows I paint. Do whatever you want.”
   ——O God, I want to be a good person.
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showrunnerihardlyknowher · 4 years ago
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today i astral project giant, curious merboy w/ frightened researcher into your mind. tomorrow? who knows
Tomorrow is when you get your request filled you babey boi
--
“E-easy now, l-let’s ju-woah! Hey!”
It was too late for Stella’s squirming to do her any good as long, clammy fingers tightened themselves around her already battered body to lift her much higher than she would have appreciated. She couldn’t help a small wince when she felt her arms be uncomfortably squeezed against her ribs, the left side of which was undoubtably bruised from her topple earlier. The grip only pressed more at her pathetic struggles, forcing out her exhale much rougher than intended.
“Pl-lease,” she gasped, practically immobile in the creature’s hold which seemed to be the desired affect, “y-you’re hur-hurting me...!”
And just like that, the pressure that had once been constricting her disappeared. Even more wonderfully, solid ground seemed to return under her shaky legs which she was grateful to collapse. Or so she thought. A couple inhales sucked in to clear the splotches that pulsed in the corner of her vision revealed she had merely been traded from one hand to the other, trapped high above in an open palm as opposed to a clenched fist. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she supposed.
Or fish, she supposed again.
With a shaky sigh, Stella forced her eyes up (and up and up) until they met with  wide ones, blinking down at its tiny capture. She couldn’t keep up the staring contest very long, however, not with how unnerving those black scleras were. Instead, she found her gaze shifting towards its mouth that could certainly fit her inside in one bite, perhaps even a rowboat if it tried. At that moment, it chirped at her, something loud and grating and immediately making her cover her ears for protection, but not without getting a glimpse of those jagged fangs.
From a scientific standpoint, this was one of the most stunning discoveries in her career, hell, in anyone’s career in the history of marine biology. A genuine mermaid...er, man, if she were to assume based purely on physical observation. A dozen questions ran through her mind focused on understand how on earth each component of his body functioned. Respiratory, circulatory, vision, hearing, homeostasis, smell, bone structure and density, muscle to fat ratio, everything and more!
Unfortunately, she doubted those inquiries would be answered anytime soon, if ever. 
The monster chittered again much more quietly, practically a rumble in his throat as his other hand hovered closer. Try as she might to flinch away, there was really no where else to go besides down into the icy waters below. She watched the thick claws adorning each finger inch closer, bracing for the sensation of being flayed like some sort of sick vengeance for all his seafood brethren she had ever eaten. Actually, given his size and muscular build alone, there was no way this thing was a vegetarian, so there better not be any judgement on that front!
Surprisingly enough, the claws just missed nicking any part of her skin in favor for the pad of his finger to rub against the top of her head, slowly, hesitantly even. Stella grimaced at the action but let it be, holding still as best her trembling form was able to while his petting built up more confidence, now sliding from her crown to where the coils ended at her shoulders. She let out a yip when he yanked her hair in an attempt to rub the foreign texture between his thumb and forefinger, immediately releasing the frizzy locks at the sound of her distress. 
His curiosity didn’t stop there, however. She was well aware of the irony of the situation--the researcher being studied by the subject and all that (at least, she hoped that’s what he was doing rather than sizing her up for a meal). Considering this was her first time ever encountering a merperson during one of her weekend escapades along the coastline, it wouldn’t be too hard to imagine this was his first time meeting a strangely sized hybrid species as well. Maybe those local legends about sea monsters and sirens held a little bit of truth after all, he was certainly as destructive as the stories foretold of these deadly creatures.
And, the scientist side of her couldn’t help but reason with the merman. She was, after all, encroaching on his natural territory in a foreign vessel, was it truly so unexpected for it to attack? ‘Attack’ was perhaps too strong of a word. Investigate was more like it, the way it grabbed and shook her tiny boat in an effort to see what was inside this weird, floating habitat until she came tumbling out on deck. On the bright side, at least Lorelei coming down with strep the night before saved her research partner from meeting the same fate as her right now. On the downside, she was going to meet said fate alone, her true ending forever a mystery outside of these waters.
The question was: what the hell was her fate meant to be? The way his fingers and touches roamed her body continued to reassure her that she probably wasn’t going to be a menu speciality for another few moments, but beyond eating her, what other uses could he have for her? He pinched her legs and arms to bend at the joints, especially fascinated at how articulate her lower half was in comparison to his own. It was almost like he was looking for a tail where one should obviously be, trying to piece together how these two split fins could work together as one. His fingers brushed against her waist and trailing up to her neck. Gill placement, maybe? From just how close his nails were coming to her jugular, Stella feared she might just get a few extra breathing slits if she so much as hiccuped.
It was all well and good until the fingers glided back down over her chest, pushing past the soaked lapels of her coat to the swell of her cleavage, his claw eagerly slipping under the buttons of her blouse to pop a few off. Stella turned bright red, her body heating up so much that she was sure he could feel it against the cool flesh of his palm where she sat. With an indignant shriek, she slapped the digit away from her body, quickly covering herself with her lab coat as best she could.
“No, thank you!” She scolded, leveling a glare with the creature. “Don’t do that!”
She didn’t even have time to register what consequences might befall her actions of threat displaying a massive sea predator, not with how his ear fins flattened against his head and he jerked his hand away as if she had burned him with her touch. In his defense, he did look rather guilty, rumbling again in his throat like he was offering an apology. He tilted his head at her, repeating the noise and it was then she realized he probably didn’t actually know what was wrong, rather he was asking why it was wrong. Oh, yeah. Different species, different cultures, different takes on reproductive accessories.
“You just, y-you don’t touch people like that, okay?” He grumbled something at her and though she didn’t understand it, she knew that tone well enough to roll her eyes. “Because I said so. Why d-”
Stella froze. The monster was still pouting at her reply, but her lengthy pause paired with her suddenly shocked expression made him chirp again in question. She searched his eyes, now well aware of the deep blue iris hidden within the inky abyss around it. 
“You...c-can you understand me...?”
He furrowed his eyebrows before giving a single nod. Uh, yeah, duh? I’ve been responding to you this entire time, haven’t I? is what the expression conveyed.
“Holy shit...” she whispered. A smile was quick to tug at her cheeks, looking back at him with twinkling brown eyes. “Holy shit! You can understand me! Y-you’re...you’re intelligent!”
The creature narrowed his gaze and she quickly held up her hands in a placating motion. “I-I mean, obviously, you were always intelligent, just i-in terms of, like...you know, whatever, let’s just start over, um...” She ran a hand through her newly tangled mess of curls, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh my god, I don’t even know where to begin!”
A quick look down at her capsized boat had her reconsider. Stella wondered how much of her research and equipment inside was totally trashed as a result of being broken or waterlogged. Oh well. Literally none of that mattered right now, not when filters could be replaced and notes reprinted and one of the greatest specimens of her lifetime was three inches in front of her.
Biting her lip, she glanced between the boat and the merman. “Actually, do you, um, think m-maybe you could fix...that? And maybe put m-me down while you’re at it...?”
For a moment, he only blinked at her, silently debating her request. It was long enough to make her start to shift nervously, wondering if she had managed to misread the entire situation and was foolish to make such demands when she was still considered a food source. Thankfully, he complied and righted her boat with ease, gently depositing her on the slick deck. The rocking of the sea still caused her to slip and fall ass first on the ground, though it mattered little to her with the way her legs still felt like jelly.
A shadow engulfed her, trilling ringing in her ears from above which made her groan. “I’m fine, just...give me a minute here.” Slowly, Stella sat back up and pulled her legs towards herself until she could sit criss-cross, digging her (thankfully) waterproof handheld from her pocket to pop out the stylus, tapping and scribbling on the screen. The creature lowered himself deeper into the water until only his shoulders and above were visible, swimming around to the edge of the boat to try and see what she was doing on the tiny device. He braced his hands on the side of the hull, nearly capsizing it again, which was probably what he did the first time when she had been down in the cabin, and only letting go when Stella cried out at being toppled for the umpteenth time.
When the boat ceased most of its swaying, she fixed another sharp glare at the creature who hunched a little further into the salty waters. “Okay, rule number one, no more touching this boat. Got it?” She was half tempted to add or me in there, but...well, they could cross that bridge if something came up about that later. Regardless, he nodded at her and she sighed, repositioning herself to lean against the cabin door for a little extra stability.
“So, ever play twenty questions?”
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yunkiwii · 4 years ago
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stargazing | au
pairing: non-idol!mingi x gn!reader
genre: fluff დ
warnings: none
wc: 2.1k
requested: no, but i'll tag @su-lix because she has been waiting for this ♡
net: @ateezlovenet
summary: you met mingi at san's birthday party and somehow you both end up talking throughout the whole party, which led to him (kinda) asking you out.
Last week, at your friend San’s birthday party you met this other friend of his, Mingi, and somehow you two ended up talking throughout the whole party ignoring whatever was going on outside of your little bubble. When you told him you knew the names of the constellations and how to distinguish them, he got so excited about it that he just couldn’t help but ask you to teach him someday.
The party ended, you exchanged numbers to keep in touch and now, nine days later, there you were, sitting on the passenger seat of his car making your way to the middle of nowhere, to star gaze together. You still couldn’t believe you actually went on board with this, considering that you barely knew him, but you trusted San’s judgement just enough and, besides, there was no way this boy would hurt you, even though he was really tall he was just like a kid trapped in a big man’s body, too pure for this world and you could see right through him. And he was hot, you would never admit it out loud but that also had a say on your decision.
You felt really comfortable siting there next to him, windows rolled down, your hand hanging on the outside feeling the fresh breeze hitting you on this warm summer evening, as you watch the sun setting down and the sky turning into shades of orange and pink, the busy city being left behind, further and further away from you at every second.
The twenty-minute drive was made almost in absolute silence, but not in an awkward silence way, just quiet, with soft music playing in the radio, a playlist that Mingi swore he chose randomly, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling that he made the playlist specially for this drive, it just fitted the mood too well to be a coincidence.
“So, we need to establish something first.” Mingi breaks the silence as he stops the car in a small parking lot, with only a couple of lampposts lighting the area faintly now that the sun was fully gone, and you hum in response taking your eyes away from the window and facing him. “Is this a date or is this merely educational? I need to know how to behave.”
“Hm… you were the one asking me to come, so it’s up to you I guess…” you smile back at him, praying that he wouldn’t notice your hands playing with each other, a clear sign of how nervous you got the moment he spoke up.
Mingi chuckles shyly and scratches the back of his head, clearly not expecting his question to backfire at him like that. You felt proud of yourself for being able to keep it cool and avoid the question like that, even more so seeing how you left the boy so flustered he wouldn’t look you in the eye.
“It’s a date then!” He decides after a while, smiling at you but when he was halfway leaving the car, he turns back at you again, “This is, if you’re okay with it.”
“I’m already here aren’t I?” you smile back at him, leaving the car as well, satisfied at how things were turning out, although you had actually thought it was clear from the moment he asked, back at San’s party, that this would be a date, yet you still found it sweet that he had to make sure first.
As you step out you start looking around, unsure about the safety of this random place so far away from the so familiar city. It seems like a small village to you, a very quiet one, the chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs combined with the sound of running water being the only things you could hear, and you realize there’s likely a river nearby which explains why it felt chillier here, making you pull on your jacket’s sleeves so you could cover your hands, still nervously gripping on the other.
Mingi notices your nervous tic easily and approaches you slowly with his backpack hanging from one shoulder, his tall figure right next to you so close that the said backpack is brushing on your arm lightly.
“(y/n), don’t worry about this place yeah? My grandma used to live here, I know this place better than I know myself, it’s completely safe.” He looks down at you waiting for your approval, but you just nod and hum in response, not convincing him. “It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable here, we can go back to the city and do something else, or I can take you home if that’s what you want…”
“No Mingi, we’re here already let’s stick to the plan.” You look up at him smiling determined and a wide smile forms on his face, and hell that was a beautiful smile, one of those that could wipe all the worries in the world, and you had to look away as you felt your cheeks warm up. “But I would be more comfortable if we stayed close to the parking lot, okay?”
With that said he suggested staying near the closest tree, just close enough to what you considered safe but not too close to the lampposts so that you could still see the stars clearly. He took out a dark blue blanket out of his backpack and as you sat on it, just chatting about random daily life stuff, you began to feel more at ease, finally taking your hands away from each other and resting one on the blanket for support, and the other on your lap.
As Mingi asked you about the constellations, you let yourself fall on your back, getting a laugh out of the boy, while you ramble about how since you were little you looked up more often than you looked down, gaining you a couple of funny falls throughout the years.
“Hey, lay down, otherwise you will hurt your neck.” You chuckled pulling Mingi down by slightly grabbing on his sweater’s sleeve, and he too falls on his back right next to you, your hands brushing every once in a while, sending shivers from the tip of your fingers right into and through your spine. This made you fluster a bit, making you unable to keep the conversation going, so you both just stared in silence into the sprinkles in the sky for a while, until Mingi looks back at you all of the sudden and breaks the silence.
“Is that a constellation?” he points up to the sky, unaware that you had no idea where he was pointing at, his eyes wide open looking at you, excited about the fact that he might have figured something out.
“Mingi, I have no idea where you’re pointing at...”
“Oh, well…” he moves his body closer to yours to try and explain better what he was seeing, your shoulders now touching and he extends his arm right in front of your face so you could follow the invisible line connecting his fingers and the said constellation, “Those five stars connected form a weird «w», is that a constellation?” he looks at you again with expectation.
“Yes!! It’s Cassiopeia!” you grab his arm excitedly pulling it down next to you and, unable to control your nerdy excitement over stars, you start rambling about the said constellation unaware that you were still entangled in Mingi’s arm.
“In mythology, Cassiopeia was the wife of King Cepheus, whose constellation is right next to hers! One day she started saying she was more beautiful than the sea nymphs, the Nereids. One of them was married to Poseidon and so they appealed to him to punish Cassiopeia for her boastfulness. Because of this Cepheus went to an oracle for help who told him they had to sacrifice their daughter, Andromeda, to the sea monster, and so they did; but last minute the Greek hero Perseus showed up and rescued her from the monster. Later, Andromeda and Perseus got married and some other guy showed up claiming to be the right suit for Andromeda, starting a fight. Perseus was outnumbered so he used the head of Medusa which, as you probably know already, turned into stone whoever looked her in the eyes. In this process the king and queen were killed, Poseidon still wanted revenge and so he placed them in the sky, leaving Cassiopeia condemned to circle the celestial pole forever, spending half the year upside down in the sky as punishment for-” you stop yourself from talking as you realise you might be boring him and, worse, you were still attached to his arm like a limp, releasing him immediately and avoiding eye contact, embarrassed by your ramblings and for overstepping his personal space, and finished the sentence weakly, “for her vanity.”
“How do you know all this?” Mingi sits up and he didn’t seem bothered at all, quiet au contraire, he was actually amazed by you and interested in what you were saying. That caught you by surprise since all you were used to was to people telling you to shut up whenever you rambled about things you were passionate about.
“Well, I read a lot about this stuff… I can lend you a few books if-”
“Yes, please! I would very much like that (y/n)!” he says and squeezes your hand lightly in appreciation when you sit up yourself, holding onto your hand a bit too longer than he was supposed to, “Your hands are so cold, do you need another sweater or something? I might have another one in my car.”
As he was standing up to go to his car you grab his hand again, earning his attention back to your face again.
“I know the car is close but-, I don’t want to be left alone here…” You hesitated a bit, but the thought of being left alone there, with his back turned to you, took your mind right to all those crime documentaries you usually watch for fun, but picturing it in the real world doesn’t seem so fun.
“Oh, that’s okay (y/n), I won’t leave you alone. But perhaps we should go back now, you’re really cold and I don’t want you to get sick or something.” Mingi helps you up as you nod in agreement, although the prospect of your date ending didn’t please you that much, but he was right, as the night went on it got colder and you were starting to shiver a bit by now.
The ride back home was a whole different than the one from earlier, your level of comfort with each other went from comfortable silence to an open debate on whether your zodiac sign had a say on your personality or not. No conclusion was taken from it though, since it only led to you getting to know each other better based on the traces of personality you used to prove your own points.
Your trip back home was soon to be over but neither of you were ready to say goodbye just yet, it felt like you’ve just left the city, but you were already back, and it was almost midnight.
“Time really flies by when we’re having fun huh?” Mingi chuckled quietly and you barely heard him, so you assumed he was talking to himself and didn’t say anything. He stopped the car right in front of the pathway to your house, leaning back on his seat and turning his head to face you, “Here we are, (y/n). Thank you for agreeing on this date, I had a really good time.” His smile awakens a warm sensation inside you and you automatically mirror his expression.
“I had a lot of fun too, Mingi, thank you for tonight.”
At this point you knew you should probably say your goodbyes and call it a night, but you just stayed like that for a few more minutes, or so it seemed to you, tracing each other’s features with your eyes, memorizing every bit of it hoping you would dream with each other that night, but in reality, only a few seconds had passed until you became flustered by the boy’s eyes locked on your face.
“Hm, I- I should probably go,” you rush to take the seatbelt off and leave the car, looking back in before shutting the door, “thank you again, Mingi.”
As you were about to enter the house you hear his voice calling you from inside the car, you turn around and see the window from the passenger's side open, his face trying to get a look at you, “When will you lend me that book you told me about?”
You giggled to yourself, seeing this as chance to take control of what should happen next, “Perhaps on our next date, I’ll text you the details!”
He smiled at you and yelled back a “deal” before starting the car and leaving at full speed. You shut your door and lean against it, not quite believing you were actually the one who suggested the second date.
♡MASTERLIST♡
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revengerevisited · 3 years ago
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So I’ve been kinda dancing around my original story idea for a little while, and I got this idea in my head of ‘what if I release chapter 1 and then get feedback without telling anyone what the story is about first so it’s more of a surprise?’ But honestly? I’m realizing since I already released a preview-of-a-preview for chapter 1, and it might be a little while until I finish chapter 1, plus I honestly kinda feel like I’d rather work on sketches of my character designs than write at the moment, I might as well go ahead and tell you guys. X’3
So! I watched a couple anime recently both centered around the premise of... monster girls! These being Monster Musume and Monster Girl Doctor, but then I noticed there’s also Interviews with Monster Girls, A Centaur’s Life, and the infamous Interspecies Reviewers, and I asked myself... Monster girls are pretty popular right now, yeah? But where’s all the monster boys?! And that’s how I got the idea! I re-watched some of my favorite anime based on Otome Games, Kamigami no Asobi and Uta no Prince Sama for inspiration as well, and a few ones I hadn’t seen before like Dance with Devils and Magic-kyun Renaissance for inspiration as well.
So now I’ve got my premise that I shared earlier: This is the story of Millie, a young woman down on her luck who happens to live in a world where monsters aren’t just real, but commonplace. She started working as a maid in a mansion-turned-art-school whose students are a group of very attractive monster boys. The twist is that these aren’t just any monster boys; they belong to various rare and exotic species with deadly reputations...
Note that character and place names are technically place-holders for now and may change if I come up with better ones. Now, I don’t wanna spoil anything story-wise, but I think I can introduce my setting and some of the characters that you’re gonna meet. The story is set in a modern setting, though it’s vague if it’s actually Earth or just some generic world similar to it, as I try to avoid referencing real-world places or events. This is a world where humans and monsters live together after a Great Interspecies War happened in the past, but tensions have mostly relaxed by the time the story takes place. The war could be thought of as the equivalent of our own World War One, one in which there was a truce decided after many years of stalemate fighting.
The city everything takes place in is tentatively named Dullahan, and was built directly after the war to commemorate peace between human and monster kind. It’s considered an artistic cultural center, and it’s got a lot of interesting entertainment places to go to, arcades, theaters, aquariums, etc, that the characters can have a lot of different shenanigans in. The other main setting is the Beaufort Academy of the Arts, which was actually a mansion that was converted into a small private school. This is where all the characters live, and our main character Millie works as a maid there.
Before I go into the characters, I should start with the various monster species. There are 12 species, divided into 2 groups: common monsters and exotic monsters. The common monsters are centaurs, harpies, lamias (snake people), kobolds (dog people), ogres, and merrows (mermaids). These species are all pretty standard, and will be mostly background characters and npcs. The main characters, and love interests for Millie, will be of the exotic variety: arachnes (spider people), sirens (deep-sea mermaids), mandrakes (plant people), dragons, manticores (with a liontaur body-type), and scyllas (octopus people).
So what differentiates a common monster from an exotic one? Well, while the Interspecies War was between humans and monsters in general, some monsters were already at least partially integrated into human society, and the rest followed soon after the war ended. These monsters were almost as common as humans, and either herbivorous or omnivorous, with the exception of the carnivorous lamias who prefer to eat eggs over anything else. On the other hand, the so-called ‘exotic’ species were not only much more rare, but they had a very different food preference... one which earned them the now derogatory nickname... man-eaters.
Naturally, most ‘man-eaters’ weren’t exactly welcomed into human --nor common monster-- society with open arms, not that most of them wanted to. For the most part, species as powerful and dangerous as them didn’t want to play nice with those they had once --and in some cases still do-- regard as prey, and so hid away into the furthest reaches of the world. Which of course makes them perfect material for all our leading men and Millie’s various love-interests!! Oh yes, while all of these monster boys are perfectly civilized --well, for the most part-- they still belong to species that many both human and monster alike continue to fear to this day. While they aren’t exactly fish out of water (well, except for the siren) there’s still plenty of awkward misunderstandings and interesting scenarios that can be played out.
So! Let’s have a quick run-down of the characters, keep in mind that none of these names are final and could change later on. First there’s Millie, a hardworking young woman who’s had a recent streak of bad luck. Through a misunderstanding she gets hired as a maid in a mansion-turned-art-school. She’s very sweet and tries her best to help others, but she’s not as innocent as she appears; she’ll understand your innuendos just fine, even if she doesn’t really say any herself! Next is Richard and Lara Beaufort, a husband and wife who run the school. Richard is rather laid-back, yet he’s also a master of all kinds of art, painting, sculpture, photography, dancing, singing, you name it! Lara is his arachne wife, a rather boisterous woman who owns a high-class fashion company. The secret to her clothing’s success?? Arachne silk, of course! The school was her idea, a way to help better integrate exotic species into society. Will her mission succeed? Only time can tell.
Richard and Lara have a son named Simon, our first love interest and a human-arachne hybrid who takes almost entirely after his mother in the looks-department (hybrids tend to look like one species or the other, rather than a mix of both). He’s a bit withdrawn due to dealing with bullying as a kid; most people --human and monster alike-- are afraid of his spider-like appearance, so he doesn’t get out much-- to the point his parents worry about him being a shut-in for life! He’s also a gamer boy, and has a secret soft side for gothic poetry, although he doesn’t want to join his parents’ art classes. He actually disapproves of his mother’s exotic species integration plan, as from what he’s experienced he feels it’s a waste of time.
Simon’s best friend and Millie’s second love interest is Louis, a mandrake who lives in the woods behind the manor. Louis is extremely shy and more than a bit lonely, even more so than Simon, and he doesn’t speak very often out of fear that the sound of his voice will hurt others around him. Mandrake screams can induce insanity or even kill those that hear them, hence his fear. Being part plant, Louis has mild shape-shifting abilities and is able to transform between child and young adult forms at will, although he’s actually the oldest of the group. He also isn’t a student at the art school, although he has an interest in floristry.
Now for our actual students! Forrest is a manticore, which in this world means he has a body similar to that of a centaur, but with the lower half of a lion instead of a horse, and a scorpion-like tail tipped with a deadly venomous stinger. Despite his species’s name literally meaning ‘man-eater’, Forrest is extremely friendly and cheerful, and is very sporty too. His passion is photography, and he also loves eating food-- any sort of meat dish is fine by him! He’s also a fan of fantasy tabletop roleplaying games, and will often make references comparing them to everyday life; he always plays the knight who saves the princess!
Anthony is a childhood ‘friend’ of Forrest’s, though he’s loathe to admit it. Highly intelligent and highly snobbish, Anthony fancies himself an intellectual-- and he’s not exactly wrong. Being a dragon, he likes to hoard things-- in his case, knowledge. Anthony loves to read, and is most often found in the library. His skill is in drawing and painting, and all his paintings’ invariably morose subject matter worry Millie. Still, this haughty dragon could definitely learn to loosen up a little, and be a little more kind; perhaps his stay at the academy --and his interactions with Millie-- will open his mind to appreciating the feelings of others. He does, at the very least, greatly respect Master Beaufort as a master of the arts.
The other two students are denizens of the sea, and have been friends for a very long time. Emil is a scylla, and like all scyllas he’s a little eccentric, and just can’t seem to keep his tentacles to himself! While Forrest is obsessed with eating, Emil’s true calling is cooking, and he loves making all kinds of dishes, especially anything seafood and/or foreign. Emil also is highly appreciative of women’s fashion, and absolutely adores everything to come from Madam Beaufort’s clothing brand-- so much so that he actually wears them himself! His pretty-boy looks and penchant for wearing women’s clothing actually has Millie mistake him for a girl at first, though he’s very much unafraid to show her his romantic side, or at least what he interprets as romantic... 
Keeping Emil’s pervy antics in check is our sixth and final monster boy, Oswald! As a siren, Oswald spent most of his life in the sea, and still has a lot to learn about humanity. He’s a pretty cool guy but gets a bit embarrassed about his species’s troublesome past as the cause of many shipwrecks at sea, and would prefer to not discuss it. His passion is rock music, and his main instrument is the guitar. He also loves to sing, but refrains from doing so due to the hypnotic effect it has on other species. His lack of legs, tentacles, or a snake-like tail means that like other merrows and sirens he requires a wheelchair to move around on land, and often feels frustrated that he can’t show off how adept he is at traversing water. He’s also easy to embarrass and obsessed with not allowing anything to ‘ruin’ his manly image, including allowing Millie (a girl!) to help carry him around.
So there you have it, all my monster boys! I left out a few things, as those would be major spoilers, but those are my ideas for the characters for now! I’ll try to draw and post some sketches of their designs later. Hopefully I haven’t forgotten anything, but this won’t be the last time I talk about monster boys. Any questions or comments would be very much appreciated! Nsfw questions are allowed (all the boys wear pants for a reason, after all), though I’m currently not sure if this series will be 16+ or 18+, if you catch my meaning. Lemme know how interested you are in this story, or if you’re not interested please let me know that too! 
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perish-after-dark · 4 years ago
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Best Friend
Pairing: Top!Anguirus x Bottom!Godzilla/Goji
Summary: Goji goes into heat unexpectedly. Thankfully, his best friend knows exactly what to do. 
The king let out a long yowl as he clawed at the ground. His body burned from within as he tried to find any form of release. He humped his hips against the hill he had laid himself upon, but he knew it did very little to quench his sexual thirst. From his body came a sweet scent that traveled through the air. Not sweet in the ways we humans would detect, but sweet for titans. A musky, sea salt, and pure hormones type of smell that drove many titans mad. 
Going into heat was something Goji always worried about. Not because he didn’t want to, but rather he didn’t want to deal with the ensuing chaos if he did not get it under control quickly. Goji was not blind to the fact that many titans wanted him sexually, and he could only imagine the type of trouble they’d cause if they knew they could have sex with him.
Mothra’s location was unknown to him at the moment. He considers waiting for her like the good mate he is. However, his body does not like to wait. He yearns to be bred here and now. The king of the monsters shudders as he humps against the hill again. He was just so close too. 
Suddenly, he noted how his tail was being lifted and the sound of sniffing caressed his ears. For some odd reason, he didn’t instantly snap out at whoever dared to approach and make sure a bold move. Good thing he didn’t either because when he looked back he saw the joyful eyes of his closest companion Anguirus. 
“Angy-”
“You must be deep in heat if you’re already calling me that,” Anguirus chuckled as he moved his head down. “You smell really good Goji. I’ll make you feel just as good as well.”
The spiked titan lowered his head and pressed his nose against the slick slit. He inhaled the musk as much as possible. It was as though he was getting drunk with every inhale he took. 
Opening his mouth, Anguirus plopped his tongue against the now dripping slit and began to lap it. The king moaned and squatted a bit. Anguirus, knowing how much Goji liked to squirm, lifted his hands to grasp Goji’s hips. It’ll keep him in place for sure as Anguirus had a pretty impressive grip.
The spiked titan dragged his tongue up and down the length of the opening, swallowing down any slick that came on his tongue. He gladly continued as he heard the sweet moans that left the lips of the king. 
“Oh Angy,” Goji moaned as he pushed his hips back. “Angy your tongue~ Mmm.”
Anguirus smirked briefly before continuing. He’s shocked that Goji’s cock hasn't popped out yet. Perhaps Goji wants to be bred this time around. It’s a nice thought, to say the least. He wonders just how far the king will allow him to go.
Anguirus removes his tongue with a wet pop. Goji’s hips went lax in his grip. Between his legs, Anguirus’s cock emerged and throbbed in the open air. Pre-cum already dripping onto the ground and staining it with his smell. 
“Your ass,” Anguirus chuckles, “Want me to lube that up too?”
“Only if you plan to fuck me there~” Goji moaned with a cocky grin. He swayed his hips side to side in a seductive manner. Anguirus was taken back by that statement. Goji was no dominating alpha who demanded ass all the time, yet somehow it was still a shocker that he’d ever hear those words from the king at all. 
“I’ll consider,” Anguirus said as he licked his lips. He tugged aside Goji’s butt-cheek to reveal the twitching pucker before him. “Are you tight?”
“No one’s been back there~” Goji giggles. “I’m sealed as tight as they come~”
“I don’t know if you wanna brag about that,” The spiked quadruped spoke just as he started to soak his digits in his mouth. He sucked on them just enough to make sure that they were as lubed as can be. He didn’t want to hurt the king if he was telling the truth about being a virgin back there. “If you’re as tight as you say, I’d have to go easy on you.”
“Well, you don’t have to,” Goji replies. “I’m not...that much of a virgin you know. I...play with myself-”
“Just say you’ve had sex before Goji,” Anguirus laughed as he ran his digit over the pucker. The king let out a sign as bowed his head. Anguirus used one palm to tug on the king’s cheek as he used to other to gently caress the hole he would eventually have fun with. He made sure not to push any in. The joy came from teasing the tender hole and making the king of the monsters beg for it. “I won’t be jealous. A sexy guy like you must have had a few partners before.”
Anguirus removes his fingers and sucks on them again after the moisture starts to lessen. His thick cock throbs as he sees the glistening hole as it twitches for something to fill it. He couldn’t want to stuff his meaty shaft into the moist warmth of one of the most powerful and revered kaiju as of the present day. 
“U-use your tongue please….” Goji panted as he spread his legs some more. “I like your tongue.”
“As you wish your majesty,” Anguirus teased. He pulled back both cheeks as he licked his lips. He felt the coils of climax already pooling in his stomach. Who knew one could achieve such pleasure from pleasuring another? His tongue laps across the tight pucker and he enjoys how it twitched beneath his tongue. 
“Hah...mmm Angy,” Goji moaned as he reached back to hold his butt-cheek for Anguirus. “Fuck that feel so good~”
Anguirus began to push his meaty tongue past the threshold and fuck the warmth of the moist tunnel. Slickness against slickness as he filled the rectum of his king. He adored the flavor that dripped onto his tongue as he thrust it back and forth. Heavenly moans rang in his ears as the king seemed satisfied with the service given. When he removes his tongue, he runs over the slick hole several times. He even kisses it and sucks on it. 
Between his legs, the mighty king leaks with arousal. His heat only increased by the second as his best friend pleased him with his mouth. 
Slobber coated Anguirus lips as well as Goji’s hole and taint. Thick trails of salvia connected from Anguirus tongue as he feasts on the snug pucker. He increases his speed, enjoying the loud yowls being given. 
“Angy please,” Goji quivered. “Fuck me already~” 
Anguirus was going to cum then and there. The desperation in his voice let the spiked quadruped that the king really needed this. 
He removed his mouth with a loud pop. Again, the king’s legs go slack for a moment due to the overwhelming pleasure. Pre-cum trickles down his inner thighs as he cries hopelessly. The smaller kaiju smirks as he slaps Goji’s ass. The king mutters “Again” and Anguirus is more than happy to do as told. One slap. Two slaps. Three slaps. More. The rhythmic sound of flesh being struck. Goji cries with intense pleasure as his ass is assaulted over and over again. 
“Can I put it in?” Anguirus asks as he stands on his hind legs to mount the king. Goji groans as he feels the cockhead kiss his tight ring. He wanted it so bad that it was the only thing on his mind. 
“Mmm please put it in~” Goji cooed. 
“As you wish,” Anguirus smiled as he pushed himself inside. A loud gasp left Goji’s throat. Fuck it was big. He had no idea how much Anguirus had to offer, and if that was just the tip then Goji was kinda excited. 
“Oh my fuck,” Goji moans. “It’s so big baby.”
“R...really?” Anguirus looks down to realize that he’s only a quarter of the way inside. Goji’s ass was milking just the tip. It was so tight that Anguirus almost felt like he failed in loosening the king up. However, the deep rumble of pleasure coming from the bigger one’s throat approved of this. 
“Fuck Angy move~ More~” Goji cried as he pushed his hips back. It was a powerful hump that sunk Anguirus’ cock deeper than before. Both kaiju let out a long groan of intense pleasure. The spiked of the two feels his cock throbbing hard within the slick warmth of the other. Tight rings hugging against his thick meat. 
Anguirus hips were flush against the king’s. His body was tight against those soft cheeks as Goji whimpered. Anguirus slowly withdrew only to crash back in, pounding the sweet spot that created such heavenly sounds. The aroma of heat still burned his nostrils as he went on to breed the king. 
“Angy~ Fuck Angy...Mmmmm so fucking good,” Goji throws his hips back when Anguirus thrust forward to make a deliciously wet collision. “Oh my god...fuck yes yes yes.” 
“God,” Anguirus quivered as his body went on instinct. Desperate and hungry desires willed his hips back and forth. The ideals of breeding flooded his mind. He didn’t know if it were possible, but he got drunk on the idea of pumping Goji full till he gave him pups. 
“Nnngghh fuck Angy,” Goji looked back and lightly pushed on Anguirus’s chest. The spiked kaiji gave a confused look. Was Goji trying to push him off? Did he snap out of the highs of heat and realize this wasn’t what he wanted? “Angy sit back~”
Anguirus does as his king orders, though gives a groan as he leaves the warmth of that amazing ass. He keeps himself propped up on his elbows, curious as to what the king had in store. 
Anguirus throws his head back as Goji sinks himself on his cock, both moaning as it fills him in one go. The king of the monsters rotated his hips as he looked down to drink in the sight of his friend’s pleasure. 
Anguirus’ toes curled as his dick was giving unbelievable sensations. The added weight made it better as well. A part of him hoped he didn’t wake up as this all seemed like a dream. This was driven home more when Goji grabbed his face and made their lips connect. 
Large tongues lapped and massaged each other as the sound of smacking lips mixed with the sound of smacking skin. Any moans were swallowed down. Snaking his hands down, Anguirus wasted no time in slapping Goji’s ass several times as he rode him, making the king submit under his touch. 
“S...shit Goji,” Anguirus panted out when they removed their mouths from each other. Before he could speak his lips were taken up again. With the next breath, Anguirus expressed urgency. “I’m..I’m going to cum soon...I...I need to pull out-”
“No no,” Goji giggled. In a swift motion, he pushes Anguirus all the way down on the ground and holds him there. Dazed, Anguirus didn't really process what was going onto until he noticed the position change. 
The larger kaiju places his knees on either side to gain better support. He smirks before starting to go extra hard on Anguirus’ cock. The spiked quadruped let out a loud shout. 
“HOLY SHIT FUCK MMMM” Goji held him down and chuckled at the outburst. There was no way he was letting any of that cum to go to waste. If Anguirus was going to cum, he was going to do it inside him. Goji briefly considers if he gets knocked up, but then again isn’t the point of heat to dry and lure someone in TO give you pups? 
“Goji….ngh...fuck Goji I’m-”
“Do it please~” Anguirus tilted his head down and noticed just how wet Goji’s slit had become. It was leaking clear arousal that started to pool on his stomach. “Oh Angy nut in me baby~”
Anguirus let out a loud burst as he finally released all his love deep within the depths of Goji. His cock painfully throbbing as load after load was squirted into the warm tunnel he had spent the past few minutes in. So much so that it began to push back and leak along his buried dick and dripping against his tail. 
Goji followed suit as he came and coated Anguirus midsection with his love. Shallow and frankly shy moans exited his throat as he gave weak squirts in comparison to Anguirus explosion. 
There is only a moment for Anguirus to catch his breath as Goji rolls off of him. Both panted yet Anguirus notices that the smell hasn’t gone away. In fact, it had gotten stronger. The smaller of the two snaps his head to the side to see Goji trying (and failing) to muffle his groans as he reaches down to pleasure his slit. 
“Hey,” Anguirus said as he rolled on top with a large grin. “Don’t worry, you’re best friend is here to take care of you for as long as you need~” 
Sorry this took a while to complete. For about a month I had a hard time writing smut. Anyway, onto the next pairing!
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blackcatanna · 3 years ago
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Tale of the Demon Arms of Horniness Part 2!
(Maybe this time we'll finally get to the eponymous fucking demon arms)
This is me doing a playthrough of Iba's route in Hakuoki and bitching all the way (my specialty)
We last saw our heroine finally meeting with Dr Matsumoto... Which is exciting because it means that some quality Takeda bullying is coming up soon...
Iba's mansplaining to Hijikata that rasetsu are dangerous...
It feels like he is on the verge of leveraging this into an excuse for persuading them to release Chizuru into his custody...
"But it's potential on the battlefield is too much to ignore." X_X Hiji-mama, no!
"Even when he looked frustrated, the structure of his face was quite handsome." XD Omfg Chizuru, stop thirsting for Hijikata! Remember who's route you're on! I swear that she doesn't thirst for Hijikata this much on other routes... Come on, game! Be brave! Make this route polyamorous!
"Putting a premature end to all of our research would be the same as forfeiting Sanan's life." ... WHY?! It's not like he feeds off the blood of fresh furies?!
"If we can locate Kodo, then we may be able to find a way to reverse the effects" okay... but, in the meantime, maybe stop making so many people into rasetsu! This plan seems all over the place...
Omfg, why is a panicked looking Takeda scuttling about... Was he eavesdropping?
"Hulking shadow" I never grow tired of this game's descriptions of poor Takeda XD
"What is it you want from me?" Good question, Takeda...
"Were you listening in on the conversation?" YES QUEEN, STRAIGHT TO THE POINT!
"Takeda seemed smug" good for her!
"I have nothing to hide, but perhaps you do," yeah... He has a point...
I'm gonna summon my sword boi...
"Takeda snagged my shoulder with a tight grip." Girl, did you think you could just start interrogating this captain and then scuttle off freely?
"OW...!" XD I guess he has big, grabby sea monster hands...
"So, you're trying to make a run for it, huh?" Yup.
Omfg, is she trying to use the force to call Iba? THAT'S NOT HOW THE FORCE WORKS!
"As I attempted to scream," points for effort, "Takeda covered my mouth with his coarse hand." Hey! That's only sexy when Saito does it! Physical contact, uwu!
"Don't scream." Fair enough, I guess... I mean, Takeda is right to be pissed off in this situation, I feel...
"That man, Iba, was it?" Takeda gets it.
"He'd better make sure he's not telling the chief or the commander things they don't need to hear." This idiot has perfectly created himself a web of paranoia and fear by being a total dipshit! Takeda, just let it go! Troublingly, no one seems to give a shit about your extortion racket! Stop using it as an excuse to spy on Iba and admit you want to fuck him!
"MMMM....!" XD Classic dialogue
"Is there something you're keeping from them?" Yes, his carnal desire for Iba.
"Eh!" Awe, he looks like a startled mean girl caught in the middle of bullying by her crush <3
"Long time no see." Did you miss him, Iba?
"*Grunt*" XD Is that a Takeda can say? I mean, Iba is pretty...
"biting his lips." Uwu
"You called my name earlier, asking for my help..." Omg, he is force sensitive! "Thank you. It made my day." Yeah, well, hmu anytime you wanna hear me call your name ;) ;) ;) (just trying to move the romance along, don't judge me)
"Why... did I scream Iba's name?" Girl, you know why ;)
"You're an outsider. Stay out of this!" Again, Takeda kind of has a point...
Takeda sure isn't buying Iba's bs...
Oop! Blackmail! Yes, Iba! Threaten to expose this bitch!
"Iba and Takeda exhanged heated glances for a few more moments..." Young love <3
"The reason for Takeda's foul mood may be related to something like the recent slump I was in." Awe, now I actually kinda feel bad for him... It must suck to be considered a big burdensome sea monster by everyone around you... Even Itou doesn't seem to want him :'( He should seriously stop extorting people, though!!!
"As a master of the Koshu Military Science, he'd grown used to people depending on his expertise, that is, until Itou joined our ranks..." Awe :'( (but the casual extortion was before all that). And Iba constantly makes him feel physically impotent XD This is why we need a Takeda route! Hug the sea monster! He seriously needs some friends!
Tbf, Itou sounds like a serious asset to the Shinsengumi...
"He is desperate to make his mark in the Shinsengumi... Just as I am." Awe, thank you Sanan for your sympathetic take on Takeda! Maybe you should give him a hug! No blood drinking, though (unless Takeda is into that...)!
"But... That gives him no right to take out his frustration on people he thinks are beneath him. That id inexcusable." FACTS! Yes, Takeda needs to stop being an awful prick...
"He should be reprimanded" Even Sanan agrees XD
"The cornered rat will bite the cat." Wise words...
"Don't let yourself be caught alone with him." Jealous? This contrasts nicely with Chizuru being told not to worry too much about Miki XD
Kondou is being roasted for not being a good minion dad! Take better care of your employees, Kondou!
"I never would have imagined..." Well, that's part of the problem, isn't it?!
"Clean this place up." Matsumoto is the über mum!
"I'll get to it this instant!" "So, we were ordered to clean the entire compound." ... I kind of wanted to see Kondou do it all himself, stupid as that might be...
"Compared to the complexity of war tactics, it's not like cleaning is some brilliant task." And yet everyone here has failed spectacularly at it... Anyway, let the roast of Takeda commence!
"All you did was complain..." XD believable
"Didn't Souji get to rest all day?" Um, he is literally dieing. Lay off.
At least Saito bae is happy!
"Stop running around like that. We just cleaned, and you're already kicking up dust." Saito bae is muma in training!
Awe, we don't get to see Miki bae joining in The Roast of Takeda in this route? My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined. Also, no one gets to roast him for being a bootlicker? Perhaps the devs thought it'd be too cruel after the conversation with Sanan...
"What are you doing here...?" I live here, bitch!
"you run errands and clean up for a pack of humans?" As is my right!
"Your heritage hasn't blessed you with brains, I see." XD
"Stop trying to turn humans into Demons." ... Okay, that is fair enough XD
"You don't know what you're talking about." Uh, pretty sure he does!
"Idiots." Ya.
"What were Demons, and why had they come after me?" Didn't we cover this already?
"Takeda, for obvious reasons, still didn't seem fond of Iba..." I want Iba to try and make friends but I can see why he wouldn't like Takeda...
I thought for a second that Iba was teaching Chizuru swordplay and I got excited X_X
"I wanna see him bust out his bad-ass swordsmanship." Even Nagakura can't resist Iba's charms...
"The purpose of training is to improve one's swordsmanship... Not for the sake of entertainment." Yeah right, Saito. You'd never be entertained by swords and swordplay. Sure.
"Can I get in on this?" And now Okita is piling in!
"Smirking in a haughty fashion" yup, that's Okita!
"Oh man, oh man, who woulda thought I'd get to see a match-up like this! I guess I've built up some good karma." Wow, I didn't realise that Nagakura was such a fangirl!
"Jeez... You look too excited." Don't kink shame him, Harada!
I love that the peril music is playing XD
"I could beat you any time of the day with my hands tied." Uh, rude!
"Your sword has become pale and lifeless..." Is this another roast for Iba not having killed people? Okita, you don't actually need to feed a sword with blood to keep it healthy! You do know that, right? Please tell me you know that!
"My sword is lifeless...?" Ignore him, queen! Dude's fucked up!
Takeda! <3 yus, come fight Iba in a safe environment!
That being said, I bet this is a disaster somehow... I don't really remember... But I know where this route goes so I guess this isn't the start of a reconciliation...
"would you mind if I threw my hat into the ring?" I love polite Takeda (a rare beast)... But maybe he has poisoned his sword or something equally Shakespearean...
"What is he trying to pull?" Exactly, Chizuru!
"a small fry like me over here." Takeda, you are massive. Also, why suddenly so humble... This is eerie...
"You sure are haughty." Well, I guess he is towards Takeda...
"He... wants a match with me?" Omg, please say yes! That'd be hilarious!
I love Takeda's fighting stance with his swooshy hair...
"You bastard!" Iba! Rude >:(
"NANI?!" XD
"There's no chance I'm going to let you take me so easily." Iba plays hard to get, cool.
"Ah, you insolent shit!" :)
"Takeda tried to stab his blade into Iba's throat" O_O
"Wait, was he actually trying to hurt Iba?" -_-' duh.
Yes Saito, save princess Iba!
"What is it you're trying to do here, Takeda?" Just a li'l murder, as a treat :)
"No Shinsengumi sword should be swung with the intent of carrying out a personal grudge." Ooooh, Takeda is in trouble (well, he should be but I bet they're going to let him waddle away...)
"Shouldn't all of you know as well as I do how easy it is to be lost in the moment of a heated match?" Yes but there's a thing called self control! Saito did totally murder that guy, though... XD
"I have NEVER broken the Rules of Conduct." Uh-huh -_-
"I was watching your match from afar." OOOOOOOH BITCH!
"I'd suggest for you to brace yourself." Oh no, that sounds deeply sinister! Are they gonna make Takeda commit seppuku??? Run, Takeda!
Awe, Iba is still sad about what Okita said. 'Twas pretty fucked up.
"Doesn't living here fill you with fear?" Sure there are bloodthirsty monsters but also hot men!
"If you want, I can ask Toshi about the idea of taking you with me." AH-HA! THERE IT IS!
Why is there no "yes" option? X_X
"It's imperative for me to find my father, so it makes sense for me to stay here." -_-' No, no it doesn't. You've been staying with the Shinsengumi for fucking years and made bugger all progress! Perhaps a change of approach is overdue! And then maybe you can wear nice clothes! <3
Oh, it's Iba's boyf! I love how scared shitless he is of the Shinsengumi XD
Iba, referring to Hijikata as "the Demon Commander" is surely not helping X_X perhaps this is how he stops his boyfriends running into each other...
"I don't want to die yet!" Motoyama... What the actual fuck? Kindly take a chill pill.
I shut off my laptop so that I could do some actual productive human stuff and here I am, like, two weeks later finally reopening Hakuouki... Still no demon arms of horniness... Regardless, I am just gonna post this now and immediately start Part 3!
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Psycho Analysis: Huey Emmerich
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(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)
The Metal Gear franchise is known for its hammy and despicable villains, villains with complicated schemes, giant robots, and awesome boss battles. But what if I told you that, out of all the villains in the series, the most disgusting, vile, reprehensible, and cruel one had the same face and voice as the kindest man in the series.
Huey Emmerich is, in short, a piece of shit. There is absolutely nothing redeeming about this worthless  ass. This may seem a bit shocking if you’ve only played Peace Walker, where he seems little more than a clone of his son Otacon, or Metal Gear Solid 2, where he is mentioned as having committed suicide after catching his wife taking advantage of Otacon. But play through The Phantom Pain, and you’ll soon see that Huey is perhaps the most morally reprehensible monster in the entire game, and maybe the entire franchise.
And you will absolutely, without a doubt, love to hate him.
Motivation/Goals: Huey is motivated by one thing and one thing only: cowardice. He sells out Big Boss to Cipher to for a job offer and then lies out his ass to Venom, Ocelot, and Kaz when they eventually come and get him. Huey is just always in it for himself, and is perfectly willing to screw over any person who gets in the way of his research; even back in Peace Walker, he was strangely happy about cheerfully being able to continue developing WMDs for Big Boss and company after betraying his (admittedly crappy) former boss Hot Coldman, and after that he abandoned his wife to die for daring to hide their child Hal away from him before he could use the kid as a living battery in Metal Gear Sahelanthropus.
And while being a megalomaniac is nothing new for A villain in this franchise, Huey takes it to the next level by never once accepting any responsibility. He constantly shifts blame onto others, denies doing anything bad ever, and lies, lies, and lies to the point of insanity. At one point he straight up continues to insist his wife Strangelove committed suicide even when irrefutable evidence was shown that he left her to die inside the Mammal Pod. The man is a pathetic, nasty little weasel through and through, and his complete and utter lack of honor just makes him stand out as reprehensible even when compared to an absolute lunatic like Skull Face or even a violent brute like Eli (AKA Liquid Snake).
Performance: Christopher Randolph, the actor for Hal, somehow manages to turn everything good, sweet, and heroic about Snake’s best pal Otacon and turn it on its head for Huey. Huey has the same voice and the same face as his son, but his actions and deeds show that, no, this man is absolutely nothing like his son, and is in fact the very antithesis of who Otacon is. Props to Randolph for using the same voice we’ve come to know and love and delivering a performance so twisted that even if it is the same voice, there is absolutely no way you would ever confuse Huey dialogue for Otacon dialogue.
Final Fate: The best part about Huey is that he is constantly, constantly getting his ass handed to him. In The Phantom Pain, after he unleashes a virus onto Mother Base which forces Venom to put down some of his own soldiers, with Huey blaming him all the while, Huey is put on trial and found guilty, because… of course he is. Literally the only person who believes Huey is innocent is Huey himself, and that is because he outright rejects reality and all of the evidence against him. Venom casts him adrift on a dinky life boat, one that begins leaking and causes Huey to ditch his precious robotic legs to the sea, turning him into little more than a miserable cripple once again.
But if you thought that Huey would go out in any other way other than making the world a more miserable, bitter place, you’d be wrong. Years later, he discovers his second wife having an affair – that is to say, statutory raping – his son, Otacon. Rather than being a good father and trying to do anything about this sexual abuse of his child, Huey decides to do the world a favor and kill himself… but unfortunately, he drags his stepdaughter Emma along with him, causing her to nearly drown and giving her a crippling fear of water as a result.
And when you first play Metal Gear Solid 2, this seems like an awful, depressing tragedy… but after playing The Phantom Pain, it becomes abundantly clear that Huey’s suicide was one final, spiteful act., and Emma nearly dying was almost certainly on purpose. His final act in life was to try and spite his own son and the woman who was abusing his son by taking away the person they loved most in the world. He saw his own son as having cuckolded him and took his son’s sexual abuse as a blow to his own masculinity, and so went out of his way to hurt and traumatize him in the only way he knew how: by dragging innocent people down with him. Huey Emmerich couldn’t even kill himself without ruining everything.
Best Scene: Pick a scene where Huey is abused or forced to face consequences, be it Hot Coldman or Skull Face pushing him down the stairs and causing him to piss himself, Ocelot torturing him brutally, or Venom banishing him from Mother Base and sending him back to the world to be revealed as a fraud, and you’ve got yourself a good time. The sound of Huey suffering is music to the ears.
Best Quote: I think the quote that truly defines how much of a despicable two-faced hypocrite Huey is  would be the vicious verbal berating he gives you as you kill the Diamond Dogs infected with the parasite that he released. He berates Venom for doing this despite being fully to blame for the situation. It is the culmination of this snivelling little bastard’s arc, and he’s only revealed to be worse from there.
Final Thoughts & Score: Huey is perhaps the ultimate hate sink in all of fiction. There is absolutely nothing likable about the guy; he’s a pathetic coward, he constantly lies, he’s an utter prick to everyone around him, and he causes untold amounts of suffering all while whining and crying about how it’s totally not his fault! He commits atrocity after atrocity, heinous act after heinous act, and spreads so much misery, and he does it all without ever once looking cool or intimidating like just about every other villain in the franchise. You’d think this would make him the bottom of the barrel and a terrible character… but it does the opposite.
Huey serves as a dark contrast to his own son and helps to highlight how much of a better man Otacon is. Both came from similar backgrounds and both have similar roles, with both developing Metal Gears and befriending a Snake. The difference, though, is that Hal has a moral courage that allows him to own up to his mistakes, accept responsibility for his actions, and dedicate himself to doing better. The man is so utterly selfless that he basically blames himself for his stepmother raping him; Hal is beyond humble, to an almost martyr-like degree, and truly lives up to the ideals of The Boss more than anyone in the series. His mother would be so proud of that. Meanwhile, Huey lacks that, and as shown throughout The Phantom Pain, his lies eventually pile up to the point where even he can’t escape the truth, and he suffers for it. Huey is a cautionary look at what would have happened if Hal didn’t have the spine to stand up for what was right and own up to his mistake, and this is nowhere more evident than Hal having a long-lasting relationship with Snake that went until the day he died whereas Huey was cut out of the life of Venom with extreme prejudice after Huey again and again stabbed his so-called friends in the back.
But aside from this wonderful contrast, I think how awful Huey is becomes more acceptable because he constantly, constantly suffers for it. The man gets constantly put through the wringer for his lies and schemes, and is despised and treated like garbage by Ocelot and Kaz. His own wife even hated him and considered Hal her kid with The Boss more than with him. Huey’s own moral failings catch up with him, and while it doesn’t lessen how evil it is, it does give you a sense of catharsis when that son of a bitch gets kicked, literally or otherwise.
Huey gets a 10/10. No, I’m not exaggerating. He isn’t the most impressive villain in the franchise. He’s not flashy, or hammy, or over-the-top and exciting. Huey is a very real, very miserable type of person who is cowardly, self-serving, and loathsome, and it is just so much fun to watch him suffer for his own sins. He is the epitome of “love to hate” villains; it’s just such a blast to despise this man and attribute everything awful to him, even if it isn’t really his fault. He’s a dark deconstruction of the lovable coward, he’s an utterly evil reprehensible bastard, and I hate him oh so very much… but it’s the kind of hate that I’m happy to have.
Fuck you, Huey.
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kumeko · 3 years ago
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A/N: For Crossed Realms zine! I decided to crossover with FF15 and do the rewrite I always wanted to fix the tonal issues I had with the game.
i. Dedue
The prince was angry. Dedue knew that intuitively, could feel the rage rolling off Dimitri in waves. It was not obvious to most people—even his retainers and childhood friends couldn’t always recognize the conflicting emotions that constantly shimmered under the prince’s skin. Then again, Dimitri tended to hide his true emotions behind his manners. Even now, as they walked through the halls, the maids and household staff bowing as they passed, Dimitri didn’t let his rage show. He greeted each one with a smile, thanking them for their work. It could be forgiven if they thought he was in a good mood.
Yet, Dedue knew better. Dimitri’s hand was curled into a fist, his shoulders square, his footsteps slightly louder than they needed to be. All of his innate strength seeped out of him in the smallest of ways, barely restrained. Dedue had often wondered just how much minuscule damage the castle could take, how many generations had released their anger onto its sturdy bricks.
Still, there was no point in asking his highness about it. Experience had taught him that Dimitri wouldn’t talk about it until they were alone. Fortunately, it didn’t take them long to reach a deserted hallway, utterly clear of any eavesdroppers.
Immediately, Dimitri’s smile dropped, his pace slowing slightly. His brow furrowed and each step sent off a wave of tremors. “This is ridiculous,” he finally uttered.
This was the chance he’d been waiting for. Dedue clasped his hands behind his back. “What is, your highness?”
Dimitri gave him a sharp look. “I thought you agreed to drop formalities when we are alone?”
“I...” Dedue swallowed, remembering. His tongue felt heavy as he repeated, “What is, Dimitri?”
He smiled sunnily before the clouds reappeared once more. “This sham of an engagement.”
Dedue blinked, surprised. Over the years, he had occasionally caught Dimitri in a forlorn mood, longing staring out his windows in the direction of Garreg Mach. It hadn’t taken long to guess just whohe had thought of in those quiet moments or why he would smile sadly when alone. “I thought you wanted to marry Byleth.”
Immediately, Dimitri coloured. “That…it’s not that I don’t…” Utterly red, the anger washed off him for a moment and he ducked his head bashfully. His voice softened. “It’s not that.”
“Then…what is the problem, Dimitri?” He could live to a hundred and not be used to saying the prince’s name, to acting like their positions meant nothing.
The smile dropped, though Dimitri’s cheeks remained slightly flushed. Clearing his throat, he stood straight once more, though his anger was far less palpable than before. “I shouldn’t leave my country. Not now, when the Empire could crush us at any minute.” His jaw tightened. “I should stay and protect my people. My marriage…it is nothing compared to my duties.”
Gently, Dedue squeezed Dimitri’s stiff shoulders. “This will protect your people. Byleth is the archbishop, after all. Once she arrives in Faerghus, we will be under her protection.”
“I…” Dimitri softened once more, no doubt thinking about her. “I wish I didn’t have to rely on her for this, that I could protect us with my own strength.”
“You have,” Dedue replied firmly, shaking his head slowly. He would never be able to describe how he felt when Dimitri had grabbed his hands all those years ago, dragging a poor refugee from the slums to the castle. “And you will. This will reduce bloodshed and possibly deter the empire. There might not be a war.”
“Still...” Dimitri shifted uneasily before stilling entirely. “I wish I did not have to involve her in this at all. That our marriage was not based on this need. Besides, while this is all true, Ido not need to escort her here. You or Ingrid could guide her here—I do not want to leave my people in a time like this.”
Dedue shook his head. He never understood why Dimitri always complicated matters like this, why it was always so hard for him to accept the simple truths in life. Then again, the prince had often said the same about him, and perhaps they were both obtuse in their own ways.
“Her archbishop needs protection to reach here, protection that only you can give. I am not strong enough to protect her.” Dedue smiled sadly, more than aware of how weak he truly was. Compared to the strength of Dimitri’s other guards, nobles who had trained their entire lives to protect the crown, his own powers were paltry. The most protection he could provide was as a shield.
Dimitri’s frown grew deeper, unable to refute that. “I suppose.”
“I am certain she is looking forward to this too. She wants to see you,” Dedue added. It was a half lie. From what little he’d heard and seen of Byleth, it was impossible to read her emotions. But he’d seen the letters they’d exchanged, carried by an invisible, sardonic goddess. Dimitri’s safe was full of them, biweekly letters carried throughout the years.
That had to mean something.
“That’s not why I—” Dimitri flushed once more, the red reaching his ears now.
Dedue rarely disagreed with Dimitri if he could help it. Yet, in matters of his prince’s happiness or safety, he had to intervene. “Despite the pretenses leading to the engagement, it is also real.”
For a second, hope crossed Dimitri’s face. Then, just as quickly, it disappeared, leaving behind a cold expression. Teeth clenched, lips in a straight line, eyes hard—Dedue felt a shiver run up his spine as he slowly looked down the hallway. There was only one person in the castle who caused such a reaction.
Dimitri’s uncle walked toward them, his steps echoing in the hall.
Another good reason to get Dimitri out of the castle. Dedue wanted to take him as far from that man as possible.
ii. Felix
Under a blazing sun, crystal clear waves lapped a sandy beach. Birds trilled as they flew from palm tree to palm tree, and fish swam under the sparkly waters. In the distance, sea gulls cried.
This was paradise.
Felix hated it. An utterly frivolous tourist destination, Rhodos Coast wasn’t the kind of place he’d visit on his own if he had a choice. If he wanted to relax, he’d have stayed home. There was nothing calming about the way the sand burned beneath his rear as he sat. Unfortunately, he was alone in this thought; the rest of his companions were happily scattered along the beach.
“How can you be so grumpy even here?” Sylvain bemoaned, crouching in front of Felix. Dressed in swimming trunks and with a fruity drink in hand, he looked like he was at a party and not part of a prince’s guard. “This place is beautiful!”
The bastard was just out of reach for punch, but not for a sword. Felix contemplated the merit of sullying his blade with the wastrel’s blood. “This is a waste of time,” he growled.
“How?” Sylvain’s eyes widened, his expression guileless. Felix knew better than to believe that. “We’re relaxing.”
“We are supposed to get the archbishop,” Felix replied sharply, irritated. It wasn’t like this pretense of a mission wasn’t a waste of time anyways. No matter how important Byleth was, she didn’t need five people to retrieve her. Even if she did, with the boar prince around, they didn’t need the sword, spear, and shield of Faerghus all gathered together. “Not party.”
“We’re here for an engagement, this is a bachelor party,” Sylvain corrected smoothly, rolling his eyes. He stood up now and stared down at Felix. “You can have a little fun without the world ending.”
“And you can have a little less fun without dying,” Ingrid retorted, standing behind him. Her sleeves were rolled up, her usually neat braid slightly mused. She held a crab in hand and he didn’t have to ask to know she’d caught it herself. Unlike the idiot, she at least was still in her uniform, albeit a more relaxed version. Her jacket was nowhere in sight, her collar loosened, and with her sleeves and pants all rolled up, she might as well have changed clothing.
Sylvain groaned, turning his head as Ingrid dropped the crab into Dimitri’s fish bucket. She’d probably catch more than the prince did, considering how impatient he was.
“Come on, Ingrid, not you too.” He looked at her pleadingly, eyes wide, lip jutted out in a pout. It was a look that worked on most. “We’re at the beach! It won’t kill us to have a little fun.”
However, a lifetime had given Ingrid immunity to Sylvain’s begging. She rested her hand on her hip, frowning. “Look, Sylvain, this isn’t a vacation. We’re catching the ferry for Garreg Mach tomorrow. Could you please take this a little more seriously, before you offend some noble?”
“We’re going to war anyways,” Felix replied, shrugging at the worry. “Who cares how it was triggered?”
“Felix.” Ingrid changed her focus to him and gave him the grumpiest look. At least it wasn’t her glare.
“You two are terrible, I would never start a war.” Sylvain clutched his chest, faking shock. Getting over the betrayal rapidly, he smiled sunnily at them once more. “We’re taking a break today, remember?”
“Just because we’re waiting for the ferry,” Felix corrected.
“And this is Dimitri’s last day as a bachelor,” he continued, ignoring Felix entirely. “We have to throw him a bachelor party, guys—sure, maybe he can’t have a stripper or any of those fun things, but still. It’s the principle that matters.”
“This is what you preserve your principles for?” Ingrid hissed, unable to contain herself.
“You’re the only one who cares,” Felix replied at the same time.
“Dimitri cares,” Sylvain argued back, gesturing at the prince. “He’ll only get married once. Probably. And shouldn’t we make this a memorable time for him?”
Felix and Ingrid followed Sylvain’s arm to where Dimitri stood in the shallows of the lake, his pants rolled up as he slowly walked parallel to the shoreline. Noticing their stares, Dimitri waved at them invitingly, a smile on his face. By his side, a slightly tense Dedue glanced around warily, as though a monster would pop out of the depths and eat Dimitri alive.
“Well…” Ingrid softened. As usual. Sylvain’s charms might never have worked on her, but he’d always been good at persuasion. “I suppose it’ll make him happy…”
Felix rolled his eyes, not falling for his childhood friend’s usual tricks. “This is a waste of time,” he repeated. The prince would also smile when he saw Byleth, if that’s what they were after.
“Party pooper,” Sylvain sniped, and that was the only warning Felix got before a bucket of water showered him from above, drenching him entirely.
Felix sat there for a long second, his clothes clinging to his body like a second skin, before leaping to his feet. “SYLVAIN.”
No one would complain if they ‘lost’ Sylvain. It wasn’t like they needed him to protect the prince after all.
iii. Ingrid
Ingrid knew the sound of death. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t choked tears or heart-wrenching wails. Those came after, when a person processed what had happened, when people tried to put words to their feelings. The sound of death was just this: utter silence.
She had experienced it once, long ago, when the Empire had attacked. They had fended off the soldiers, protecting Dimitri, but not before his parents died. Not before Glen, Felix’s brother, her fiancé, died. It had been silent then as well, when she’d received the news. Everything froze, time stood still, and Ingrid had heard the deafening roar of silence before Sylvain had grabbed her, hugging her tight.
Her ears rang now too as she stood on a ridge overlooking the Faerghus capital. Sylvain was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him, couldn’t hear anything as she stared at the smouldering ruins of her home. When she’d heard the news at the docks, that the Empire had attacked, she hadn’t believed it. How could they have struck the heart of Faerghus again? After everything they’d done to bolster its protections?
And yet, it was true. Ingrid didn’t blink, unable to tear her eyes away from the destroyed city before her. Whatever buildings still standing were broken, their walls scorched black from explosions and fire. An acrid scent assaulted her senses, the smell of burning bodies, and suddenly time moved once more. On her right, Dimitri stared in horror, his feet rooted to the ground. Dedue glanced at him worriedly. She should help. She should go to him.
Her feet wouldn’t move.
Felix didn’t move either, but not for a lack of trying. Sylvain had somehow sensed it ahead of time, locking him down by tightly winding his arm around Felix’s in a desperate attempt to get him to stay. He pleaded, “We have to go.”
Felix didn’t bother to reply, his eyes flashing with fury as he strained tor run forward. No doubt he wanted to fight whatever enemies remained, get revenge for their people’s deaths.
Ingrid covered her mouth, realization dawning. Felix’s parents. Her own parents. It was impossible to believe they survived but she refused to think otherwise. They had to be alive. She stepped forward, and Sylvain turned to her, eyes wide as he tried to grab her arm. “Ingrid! Don’t!”
“There could be survivors,” she shouted back, already scanning the ridge for the quickest way down. The slope to the city was too steep to walk, but if she tied a rope around her waist, she could scale it. “We have to save them!”
“We have to protect Dimitri,” he argued, struggling to keep a grip on Felix and stop her at the same time. “We have to leave!”
“I’m going down there,” Felix growled, trying to yank free. There was murder in his voice and any other time, she would have been on Sylvain’s side, keeping his rage in check.
“You’ll die!” Sylvain snarled, his temper no longer in check. “You’ll both die!”
“If we can save someone—”
“THERE MIGHT NOT BE ANYONE!” Sylvain roared, cutting her off as he said what they were all thinking, what they all knew instinctively.
For a long moment, she and Felix stared at him, eyes wide. Before she could reply, there was an almost inhuman cry from her right. Her head snapped to her right to find Dimitri crying out, a strangled sound escaping his lips. With his wild expression, it was like something in him snapped. Nothing about her childhood friend looked princely right now. No, he looked more like a rabid animal, barely restrained.
The second he stepped forward, Ingrid knew that if she didn’t stop him here, there would be no saving him. She didn’t spare a second glance at the city, at the direction her house was, and instead dashed toward Dimitri. “You can’t!”
“Don’t!” Dedue shouted at the same time, grabbing Dimitri by the shoulders.
Enraged, Dimitri tried to shove him away, his monstrous strength directed at them for once. Ingrid grabbed his other arm, gritting her teeth as his rage turned to her now. “We have to go!” she begged, echoing Sylvain’s words. Behind her, the city burned, and she swallowed down her sorrow. “There’s nothing for us here.”
Only death, and she couldn’t stand the sound of it anymore.
iv. Sylvain
Sylvain was used to being the joker of the group. When his friends consisted of the serious Ingrid, the noble Dimitri, the stoic Felix, and the silent Dedue, it was almost a matter of survival. They spent too much time in their heads, overthinking things, refusing to crack so much as a smile. It was a dreary way to live, and Sylvain had enough of that with his own family. If someone had to remind his friends how to loosen up, how to have fun, well, he’d gladly take the job.
Yet, despite a lifetime of practice, his silver tongue failed him now. There wasn’t a joke or a flirt that could change the fact that Faerghus was gone. There was a smouldering crater where their capital used to be, the Empire was invading any smaller cities that haven’t surrendered already, and who knew where their families were. Smoke continued to rise from the capital, mixing with the stormy clouds above.
Even now, he could smell the charred bodies, hear Dimitri’s pained cry, feel Felix’s muscles strain as he tried to charge off into a doomed battle. It might have only been days since the incident, but Sylvain had a feeling he would remember this sensation even years from now. A feeling of helplessness washed over him and Sylvain forced it down.
There wasn’t time for that, not when everyone else was moping around. Sylvain slapped his cheeks, forcing himself to focus on the present. Around him, survivors bustled, and Sylvain was grateful for this small miracle. Not everyone had died. There were enough survivors for a small camp. Sprawled around them was a tent city, with no more than about twenty in it. A small number, in all honesty, but it was better than nothing. He wasn’t sure how Jeralt had rounded them up, but it seemed the ex-captain was more skilled than he let on.
Plastering a broad smile on his face, Sylvain walked over to his closest friend. “Hey—”
“Don’t.” Unfortunately, the closest friend was Felix. Seated on a rock, he sharpened his sword tirelessly, not even looking up to acknowledge anyone’s presence.
“Come on, you don’t know what I’m about to say,” Sylvain replied lightly, though the words sounded forced even to his ears. Even his grin didn’t feel natural. “It could be anything.”
“Unless it’s about how we’re going to beat those bastards, I don’t care.” Felix looked up now, giving him a flat glare. His eyes were slightly red-rimmed and now that Sylvain was paying attention, his voice sounded hoarse as well.
“Felix…” Sylvain swallowed, reaching out to squeeze his friend’s shoulder. “I…I’m sorry. I know—”
Before he could say Rodriguez, before he could so much as touch him, Felix pulled away, his glare hardening. “Don’t,” he hissed, but it sounded more like a plea than an order.
Sylvain had never been close to his family and in all honesty, he never wanted to be. But Felix—he knew the relationship between him and his father was strained, was muddled and confused and with time, perhaps it could have been fixed.
It was time they never got. He had never thought of Felix as fragile before, but every part of the man before him looked like glass, ready to break. And Sylvain had always been a bull in a china shop. He stepped back for now, dropping the smile entirely. “Okay.”
There was something else he should say, but he couldn’t find the words. Looking around, it wasn’t hard to find the rest of his friends. Ingrid flitted from tent to tent, her hands full of supplies and expression determined. Sylvain watched her for a long moment, noticing her tear-stained cheeks and the tiny tremors of her hands as she forced a neutral expression.
Had his friends always been this fragile? This easily broken? He wanted to pull them both into a tight hug, force them to cry it out, but he knew he’d be the one crying. That as responsible as Ingrid was, she’d hold her feelings at bay while she dealt with him and Felix.
She looked at him, her green eyes watery, and Sylvain flinched. He knew her almost better than he knew himself, and he didn’t have to ask to know the question running through her mind, Could I have done more?Because Ingrid always blamed herself when things went wrong, always saw it as a failure on her part instead of others.
And if she asked, he wouldn’t know what to say. Before she could so much as step toward him, he spun on his heels and all but ran to the edge of the camp. Dedue’s hulking figure was easy to spot even from a distance.
His voice cracked slightly as he greeted, “Dedue.”
“Sylvain.” Dedue offered a half-smile, his expression weary.
“How’re you holding up?” he asked, coming to a stop next to him. Sylvain rubbed his arm, trying to force his heart to calm down, to keep his voice from cracking.
“As well as expected, thank you.” Even now, he kept a formal tongue, as though to force a wall between them. “And you?”
“Alive, I guess,” Sylvain half-joked, not sure how to answer that question at all. Really, this whole line of questioning was stupid, why had he even asked that. He rubbed his neck. “How’s Dimitri?”
Dedue sighed, gesturing at the field in the distance. Barely visible was a blue-clothed man in battle. Sylvain tensed, almost about to run after his prince, when he realized there was no enemy. Just a man, in a field, spearing countless invisible foes. Dimitri roared with each thrust, sounding like a wild, rabid animal instead of the gentle prince he’d known for years.
Just where had that rage been hiding, all this time?
“He has not stopped for the last two days,” Dedue answered his unasked question. “He barely rests, barely eats, and I fear for his health.”
“I…” Sylvain’s shoulders sank, and just who did he think he was going to cheer up? He barely knew how to react. “How do I help?”
“I’m not sure if anything can help him right now.” Dedue’s brow furrowed.
“Then what should I do?” His voice cracked.
A heavy hand rested on his shoulder, and he looked up at Dedue’s impassive face. His eyes crinkled kindly, his voice soft. “You live.”
“Live?”
Dedue nodded. “Yes, that is what Dimitri, what all of you have taught me. Even if my people are gone, I am here.”
Suddenly, Sylvain recognized Dedue’s expression for what it was: a man who had lived through this before, who was seeing nothing new. He’d almost forgotten that Duscur was amongst the first to be conquered by the Empire, its people all but wiped out. No wonder Dedue always looked older than he was.
“Living is harder than it looks.” Sylvain cracked a smile, and this time it didn’t feel faked.
v. Dimitri
Dimitri was used to ghosts. He’d had his since he had been a child, watching his parents die in a burst of flames and gunpowder. Their voices had never left him—his father screaming at his enemies, his mother begging to be saved. If anything, the ghosts had piled up over the years, the faceless citizens he could have saved, the people he should have protected.
He was used to his ghosts, and in retrospect, seeing his home wiped out shouldn’t have affected him as it had. What was the weight of millions more, their voices drowning out one another as they all asked him for the same thing: justice.
No, not justice. His blood boiled too hot, his skin itched too much for this to be as cool and neutral as justice. They wanted revenge.
He wanted revenge.
“What are you thinking of?” Gilbert asked, his voice so low and quiet that Dimitri almost mistook it for a phantom’s. The man’s presence was as invisible as one, anyways, and Dimitri wouldn’t have noticed him in Jeralt’s camp if he hadn’t called out. Even now, following him through the abandoned caverns near the capital, it was like following a wraith. It was easy to lose him in the gloom.
Dimitri looked at the older man, at the wrinkles lining his face. They’d known each other for years, but he hadn’t realized how old Gilbert was till now. “You should be with your family,” he replied automatically.
Gilbert’s eyes widened before he shook his head. His huge frame almost curled into itself, shame radiating off him. “I cannot.”
“You will not,” Dimitri corrected harshly, no longer willing to mince his words.
Gilbert’s breath hitched, and he nodded. “No, you are right. I will not.” His hand curled into a tight ball as they walked, his nails digging into his skin.
Perhaps it was a good thing that he had left the others behind, ordering them to keep watch at the cavern’s mouth. There were some conversations Dimitri wasn’t ready to have in front of them, some words he wasn’t ready to hear from them, and a trip through the dark was preferable than having to process the past week.
“Why?” Dimitri asked. The words came out louder, rougher than he’d intended.
“I do not deserve to see them,” Gilbert replied simply, as though that made sense. He gave a resigned smile. “Not after what I’ve done to them.”
And what was done to us?
What do we deserve?
“You can still say that, even now? After the capital was destroyed?” Dimitri asked, resisting to cover his ears. It never stopped the ghosts before, it wouldn’t stop them now. He wanted to get through this conversation without rage spilling out of him like lava from a volcano.
Gilbert frowned, his heavy brow furrowed. “That is a fair point.”
“Then—”
“However, we will have to discuss it when you return, your highness.” Gilbert came to an abrupt stop.
Dimitri looked ahead now, eyes widening as he took in a massive door. Elegant script covered it, a tribute in a dead language, and faintly he could recognize some of the magic ruins covering the stone slab. “This is…”
‘Your ancestral tomb.” Gilbert paused. “One of them, at least. Inside, you might find the help you seek.”
Perhaps there was something wrong about seeking the dead for help, but Dimitri had heard their voices for years. They had guided his hand, whether he liked it or not, and what was one more voice added to the collection.
With no hesitation, he touched the door. It groaned as it slid to the right into a crevasse, revealing a small, circular room with a domed roof. Inside, several statues lined the walls, and he recognized the biggest one as Loog, founder of his country and his first ancestor. In the center of the tomb, a long coffin stood alone.
His feet automatically moved toward it. Dimly, he was aware that Gilbert had stayed outside. Dimitri’s footsteps echoed softly in the room. It threw him off slightly and he stopped, looking around. There was no one here but him.
Dimitri froze. There was no one here but him. He had almost forgotten what it was like, utter silence. To be alone with his thoughts. Not even the ghosts were willing to enter this sacred area. Swallowing, he turned back to the coffin, his hands brushing the lid reverently.
What would the King of Lions have done in his place? Revenge? Justice? Or walked away from it all?
A flash of green crossed his sight, the memory of a slight smile, a soft touch. Byleth.
Peace.
As though to answer him, a sword materialized in the air, identical in form to the one decorating the coffin. Loog’s sword, he knew instinctively. The sword hovered in the air in front of him, waiting to be claimed.
His ancestors had spoken.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, banishing any thoughts of a green-haired woman as he reached for the hilt.
The path before him was one of vengeance. Love had no place there.
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mst3kproject · 4 years ago
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Curse of Bigfoot
This is a very bad mummy movie from the 60’s which was re-edited and re-released as an unbelievably bad bigfoot movie in the 70’s.  It would belong on the Satellite of Love even if it didn’t have a small part for Jackie Neyman Jones.  Remember her? Debbie from Manos: the Hands of Fate?  Yeah, as far as I know she’s the only member of the cast ever to do any non-Manos-related film work for the entire rest of her life and it was this.
Once upon a time, somewhere in the American Southwest, Primitive Man was terrorized by Even More Primitive Man.  In modern times, a Bigfootology professor is giving a guest lecture to a class of students.  First he shows them a clip of a movie just as bad as the one we’re watching, then we get an inaccurate history of bigfoot, including the tale of two idiots in a pickup truck who get a big, hairy ass-whooping.  Then, half an hour into the movie, we finally get to what’s supposed to be the main plot.  A professor of archaeology takes some of his students into the wilderness to help excavate an ‘ancient Indian campsite’, but along with the expected potsherds and prayer sticks, they find a tomb containing a mummy from a lost prehistoric civilization.  It comes to life and shambles off into the forest to kill people, because it’s a movie and mummies do that.
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This movie does not waste time.  It starts sucking right out of the gate.  Almost everything that’s going to be wrong with it is introduced in the first ten minutes, as if the movie wants to prepare us for the ordeal ahead.
The opening sequence is an incredibly drawn-out scene of a woman getting up in the middle of the night to calm her barking dog, only to be killed by a zombie that wanders out of the woods.  This scene is around six times longer than it needed to be. We almost have to watch every moment of the dog drinking a bowl of milk she pours for it.  The woman’s voice was dubbed in post, and neither the voice nor the physical acting is any good.  The sequence is supposed to take place in the middle of the night, but was clearly filmed at high noon, reaching Attack of the The Eye Creatures levels of not giving a shit in having the sun appear in several shots, standing in for the moon!  The actual attack happens off screen, because the film-makers could not afford effects.
Then this part ends, and we realize that what we just saw was supposed to be a clip from a horror film that the professor was showing his students.  This provides a fleeting moment of hope, as we think perhaps its overwhelming badness was intended as parody. No such luck.  We then move into the two loggers getting stalked and killed by bigfoot.  The monster costume is different, but this piece is identical in anti-quality to the zombie scene.  The film-makers were just morons, and these mistakes continue throughout the entire ninety-minute run time.
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It’s actually astonishing that the movie is so consistent in its incompetence, because we are in fact watching two different films here. Curse of Bigfoot has a backstory similar to that of They Saved Hitler’s Brain, in that somebody in the fifties made a short movie and somebody else, years later, added useless filler to expand it into something they could show in a late-night TV slot. They Saved Hitler’s Brain feels very bifurcated, the new material being both narratively and stylistically different from Madmen of Mandoras.  But if you didn’t know that Curse of Bigfoot was twenty minutes of extra film sewn onto a 1963 movie called Teenagers Battle the Thing, you might not immediately notice.
If you’ve been following this blog for a while you’ll probably remember that I thought Madmen of Mandoras was a significantly better movie than They Saved Hitler’s Brain (even if it still was definitely not a good movie) – the added footage was distracting and pointless.  These two films, however, I would say are about equally awful.  The footage added to Curse of Bigfoot is still pointless, but it looks exactly like what was originally shot for Teenagers Battle the Thing, the only noticeable difference being a slight change in the film stock! Both are depressingly earth-toned movies in which it takes for-fucking-ever for anything to happen, with night scenes shot in the blazing daylight, and lines dubbed in by bad voice actors over bad physical performances. Both feature shitty monster suits and every possible cost-cutting measure.
This leads me to wonder whether Curse of Bigfoot might be terrible on purpose.  The people tasked with turning Teenagers Battle the Thing into a full-length movie got a couple of the actors back to play their older selves in the added footage.  Making stuff match was clearly on their minds.  Could they have actually thought things like, “we’d better use the wrong filter for this, or it won’t be as bad as the day-for-night in the original footage!” or “we need to pad this attack a bit, to match the pace!”?  If so… I don’t know whether to be impressed, or just to crawl under the bed and cry.
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On the other hand, Curse of Bigfoot does at least try to do one thing better than Teenagers Battle the Thing – it wants to have something to say.  It spells this thesis out for us in the opening narration and in the professor’s speech about horror movies: our society has forgotten about monsters.
We in the twenty-first century don’t spent much time thinking about monsters unless we happen to be film-makers, political commentators, or maybe paleontologists trying to figure out what the fuck this bugger is.  It wasn’t so long ago, however, that they were very real to many people.  Archaeological evidence suggests that people in New England believed in vampires as recently as the 1820s.  Nowadays, monsters have been taking out of the ‘scary’ category and placed in the ‘fun’ one, and so when people report things like bigfoot or a sea serpent, we don’t take them very seriously.
Bigfoot, sea monsters, and vampires don’t really exist, obviously, but in losing our fear of monsters we may have lost a proper respect for nature.  Every so often the newspapers in my city carry a story of some tourist who tried to get a better selfie with a grizzly bear and got mauled.  We are so used to thinking that we have tamed nature, that there are no monsters left, that we don’t recognize danger when we’re confronted with it.  This certainly seems to be a theme of the stories we’re presented with in Curse of Bigfoot: it never occurs to the woman in the opening that her barking dog may be trying to warn her of danger, or to the two loggers that the mysterious figure in the woods might mean them harm.
The party of archaeology students certainly don’t think they’re heading into any danger, despite the fact that they repeatedly do dangerous things.  A group of them climb to the top of a cliff to see where a fallen stone came from, and never worry about falling.  When they pry open the tomb entrance, the strange smoke that wafts out might be considered a warning sign, but they ignore it.  They head right into this dark hole without any worries about rodents, rattlesnakes, or cave collapses.  When one character warns the others that the mummy has just moved, they laugh it off. A couple go for a walk through the dark woods at night to get to a vending machine, without a second thought.
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Lest you think I’m in any way praising this movie, I’m not – I just like my reviews to be at least a certain length, so sometimes I really dig for material.  This was a dig on the level of saying The Incredible Melting Man is about how we treat the elderly.  My high school English teacher might buy it, but I doubt anyone else would.
One thing I do wonder is why they chose to reframe this as a bigfoot movie.  The footage from Teenagers Battle the Thing makes it very clear that this is a mummy movie, although they couldn’t afford any of the genre’s traditional accessories.  Instead of a museum and a treasure, we get one cabin in the woods and… that’s all. When the characters talk about the situation, they always describe the monster as a mummy, and even when they theorize that it’s the product of a lost civilization, the idea that it may not be human never crosses their minds.  It is not particularly tall.  It is not remarkably hairy.  It looks nothing like the bigfoot the two loggers saw, although it does somewhat resemble the zombie from the opening.  Why the man telling the story decided this being must be bigfoot is an absolute mystery.
The only thing I can come up with as an explanation is that bigfoot movies were popular in the 1970s.  Having seen a number of these, I can’t say I find them particularly inspiring.
Curse of Bigfoot is almost incomprehensibly boring, to the point where I’m not sure MST3K could have done much with it if they had featured it.  In the opening sequence it takes forever for the woman to be attacked and then we don’t see it.  In the logger sequence it takes forever for the guy to be attacked and then we don’t see it.  And in the main plot it takes forever for anyone to be attacked and then we don’t see it! The only attack we see is when the mummy attacks the sheriff at the climax and that really, really wasn’t worth the wait.
Congratulations, Jackie Neyman Jones – you managed to be in a movie worse than Manos.
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tsunmercenary · 4 years ago
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𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘸
The ticking of the clock was deafening in this silence. Gloved fingers tapped endlessly at the steel of her sleeves along with the rhythm of the clock’s ticking. Her feet shifted periodically to rest atop the other as they found no refuge from the cold floor beneath. Her toes curled and eyes wandered around the waiting room, anxious for the upcoming interview. The Hoshidan noble faced down the likes of bandits, enemy soldiers, and the likes of her father’s hideous abomination of a form, yet a simple interview seemingly intimidated her. Perhaps she should’ve allowed her older brother to accompany her like he asked, yet Corrin was adamant in proving she was adult enough to go alone.  It wasn’t that she lacked the maturity, yet, she lacked the social skills to uphold her confidence in front of an audience. What if she answered a question wrong? What if they’re overly strict? 
“Corrin?” The voice of the interviewer called out, the sound snapping her out of whatever inner dilemma she was griping with. Quick to not keep them waiting, she stood to her feet, brushing her royal blue cape backwards, before walking to greet them. Corrin’s gloved hand extended out to meet the interviewer’s, who met her’s halfway. 
“Right this way, please.” 
The interviewer seemed polite enough, which eased most of her fears, though the anxious anticipation of what questions would be asked of her still remained in full. After being led down the hall, Corrin entered the office of the interviewer. The male gestured her to sit across from his desk, which she obliged. Lifting the ends of her cape to tuck them back, she took her seat, a soft breath exhaling from her lips. 
Slipping glasses upon his face and a pen in one hand, the other holding the clipboard, the interviewer cleared his throat, looking to the princess. Surely he could tell how nervous she was, considering her slightly stiff posture. He simply offered a soft chuckle before showing a reassuring smile across his lips, his voice coming out relaxed, “Just breathe. I’m only going to ask you a few questions. Just be truthful, don’t overthink, and let it flow. Alright?” 
“Yes, I can do that. Apologies for being so stiff, I’ve never done an interview before.” She offered up her own laugh, which shook a bit as it came out. 
“Not a problem at all. Interview anxiousness is more common than you think.” 
Those words offered up a bit more relief to the princess, allowing her to finally settle into her chair. As they loosened, her muscles lightly ached due to being tensed for so long. 
“What has led you to where you are today?” 
Her hands came together, fingers interlocking with one another as she pondered the first question presented. “Right, my past is a bit..complicated I should say. As a young girl, I was raised within my native kingdom, Hoshido. Hoshido is a beautiful land, filled with blossom trees, bright green grass as far as the sea, and a breeze that always felt so warm across my face, no matter the season. There, I was raised by a beautiful woman, who’s voice could lull any rampaging dragon to sleep.. and a man who’s sword held just as much weight as his wisdom and kindness. At least, that is what I was told.” 
She smiled just a bit, the happier memories flooding her mind with warmth until it began to lower and fade into that of darkness. “The neighboring kingdom of Nohr often held conflict against Hoshido, so much so that war seemed inevitable. That was, until my father agreed on a peace treaty with King Garson himself. He set out with myself to meet him at the border. Being an innocent child, naive to the criticalness of the situation, I held my father’s hand, just like I did time and time again. Who knew it’d be the last.. Neither of us could’ve predicted what was to come next.” 
Crimson Irises lowered to the table as vague memories began to come rushing back like a raging tidal wave. The sounds of arrows piercing flesh and the screams of her father echoed out as if he stood mere meters away from her chair. What was once happy, warm-felt memories, now cooled into dark and cold nightmares, which swallowed them up within shadows. It was as if her thoughts manifested into a dark entity, gripping onto her wrist with malicious intensity. Corrin could hear the cries of her younger self, being dragged away from her father’s dying corpse by a monster shrouded in darkness. Slightly, yellow stained teeth and predatory eyes stared down at her. It took another few, agonizing moments to finally snap from her thoughts, shaking her hand free of what she now realized to be her own grasp. Her hand seemingly tightened with anxiety and fear from reliving that moment. So much so that they shook upon release. 
The interviewer was about to voice his concern, yet she shook her head in dismissal. 
“Sorry.. it’s quite the harsh memory.. scary even. After I was taken, I was raised in Nohr for about ten years. The land of Nohr was vastly and terrifyingly different from what I was used to. Dead trees that seemed like ragged, wilted hands rising from the dirt to grasp whatever was in sight. It was always cloudy, and dark, with a bit of rain. I spent just about all of my time there within a tower, training to become a knight to show my worth to the king.. to my “father.” Looking back, I believe I was nothing more than a trophy, flaunted as a slap in the face to Hoshido.” 
Her eyes wandered up towards the male, widening upon seeing his expression. He looked intently, as if interested. His eyes didn’t seem dull from boredom, but alert. Though, she worried she was taking too long to finish.
She shook her head once more, brushing a strand of silver hair back and behind her ear, “I’m going on far too long, I should wrap up. Uhm, sorry sorry, it’s really long-“
“No no! There’s no rush, lady Corrin, please continue. Take your time.” The interviewer reassured. 
Corrin took a breath to recompose herself, “Despite being so miserable in Nohr, I had my own family there. Siblings that cared for me, served as the somewhat parental figures that I lacked. War broke out between the two kingdoms and when it came down to choosing sides, I went back to my homeland, to fight along side my true siblings.” 
There was a moment of silence between the two as her face contorted a bit, trying ever so desperately to hold in her emotions. Despite her best efforts, however, she couldn’t help but become overwhelmed by grief. When she finally did speak, her voice was higher pitched and slightly strained. 
“It broke my heart to break away from siblings that truly loved me in Nohr and I loved them as well..” A tear gently fell down her cheek, leaving a trail as it traveled downward to finally fall from her face. “I’ve physically been with them longer than anyone. I’ve played with them, cried with them, they were damn near my family as well but I couldn’t just stand by and allow Nohr to mercilessly attack and destroy a kingdom that only wanted peace! Leaving them was the hardest decision of my life. And to see the look of heartbreak, betrayal, and eventually anger upon their faces have truly haunted me ever since.” 
The interviewer kindly offered some tissue, which the princess gratefully took in hand, wiping her tears. When she felt she could continue again, she continued,
“ After what felt like an eternity of war, I’m here now after it finally reached its end. It was my brother’s idea in sending me here to sort of recover and cope from the horrors of war without having to be constantly reminded of the blood I’ve shed myself. Some time away from the kingdom would be good for my mental and I can agree. I believe I should lend my strength and support to Fodlan. Perhaps through my deeds, I can heal.”
The interviewer nodded, writing down notes before moving to the next question.  
“What are your strengths and weaknesses?” 
“Ah, my strengths are definitely my sword fighting skills. I was trained ever since I was about ten years old, after arriving in Nohr. I’m rather efficient with that and I tend to use my draconic form to aid in battle as well. Though, my most notable strength has to be my motivation in uniting everyone. Keeping all safe and together. I’ve seen what war brings and the last thing I want is for it or needless violence to erupt again. Unfortunately, it serves as a double edged sword.. my pacifist ways have endangered lives before and I’ve had to gripe with that. I’ve been told that I’m over-trusting at times. Although it’s gotten better and I’ve developed into that of a more defensive fighter upon the confrontation of any threat, I’m not the one you should consider sending first into battle if it’s for.. preemptive measures.” 
 “Alright,” the interviewer breathed, his pen lowering down to the last question, tapping it with the tip. 
“If a story were to be written about your life, what role would you play?” 
This question stomped her, her eyes lowering to the table. She pondered for a minute or two, eyes shifting from the table, down to her hands, which were once again, enclosed within one another. Finally, with a deep breath, she looked to the interviewer before speaking, “None. If there were to be a story written about me, I’d opt to not be apart of it or even attend.” 
This took the interviewer by surprise. He would imagine if someone weren’t to participate in a performance of their life, at least they would attend.
 “You wouldn’t attend at all?” 
She merely shook her head, her smile returning as she laughed, a bit embarrassed that she bewildered the interview in such a way. 
“I mean, I’d be flattered, don’t get me wrong. But I wouldn’t want to attend. I’ve made so many mistakes, made turns where if I took another route, others would still be alive. Reliving such events wouldn’t bode well with me, honestly. I’m not someone who should be honored in anyway, shape, or form. I can’t change the path I’ve taken, but I can at least strive to look forward with optimism and work to make life better.. for everyone. But, I’d happily attend another’s, especially if they asked.”
The interviewer wrote his last notes down before standing to his feet, quickly followed by Corrin. He extended a hand out with a smile, Corrin meeting his half-way and shaking it. 
“I believe we’re done. I’ll contact you on your application process, lady Corrin. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.”
“It was a pleasure to speak with you, and I thank you for your consideration. I truly am honored to have such an opportunity.”  
@theofficersacademy
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skvaderarts · 4 years ago
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Hiraeth Chapter 22: Proposition
Masterlist can be found Here!
Chapter Twenty-Two: Proposition
Note: This entire chapter feels like a shitpost, and I love it. Also, dear god have I been busy working on things for a physical release of the fic! You’ll hear more about that next week on Wednesday, but if you are interested in beta reading, I have left a form below. Doing it myself is tricky, and there is a free copy in it for you bound in your choice of type (hardback, paperback, hardback with a paper cover, etc) and you will receive credit because I’m not a monster XD. 
I think I want to do it as a charity thing, so suggest charities the proceeds should be donated to in the form below even if you’re not interested in being a beta reader! The size of the charity is irrelevant. They just have to be credible (IE not a nightmare like Autism Speaks or the Salvation Army, or PETA, not to get judgy or upset anyone. They just have a very bad rep.) Anyway, enough of that! Back to the story!
(-~-)
By all accounts, the initial plan had been simple enough. They were going to eat dinner and then see where the evening took them. The only issue was that not a single one of them had really thought the plan through. That was typical enough, all things considered, but none of them really considered the fact that accomplishing that goal might be a little bit harder than they had originally expected it to be. Namely because of one major problem.
While Sirrus’s intentions had been pure enough when he had offered to cook, and V’s had been equally so when he had agreed to allow him to do so, the execution of those plans had left much to be desired. Making plans without knowing the full extent of their impact seemed to be something that ran in the Sparda family, regardless of the context of the plan, and while this was a minor occurrence in a sea of what had otherwise been huge high stakes situations, that didn’t change the fact that it was literally impossible to cook without food. And if it wasn’t, no one present wanted to know how that was done.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems that you might be a little short on… everything at the moment.” Sirrus said as politely as he could, clearly amused by the utter emptiness that he was presented with when he opened the cabinet door. “Am I getting my hopes up by assuming that you have something in the refrigerator, or are we just going to have to make a run to the store? I mean, we’re probably going to have to for what I had in mind, but still.”
V felt himself die a little inside at his companion’s polite yet ruthless assessment of his current living situation. Sirrus was entirely correct, it was too much to hope for. He hadn’t really been home much recently, if at all since he had acquired the place, and as such, grocery shopping had been very low on his list of priorities. It had been easier to just grab something and call it a day in the two days that he had actually been in the house so far. He only wished that he had thought of that before he’d offered to allow Sirrus to cook! He could have saved himself a lot of unneeded embarrassment.
Was this what it felt like to be Dante? Because if it was, that was a tragedy. The only upside to his current situation was that Lucia, Nico, and Nero were in the next room talking, so they were not able to experience his deep loathing and shame first hand, not to mention the verbal beatdown that he had just suffered at Sirrus’s hands. Or should he say vocal cords? Either way, the point still stood that he did indeed need to procure food because the only thing available to consume in the house was peeling wallpaper, dried-out paint, and dust. And knowing V’s luck, Shadow had probably already consumed those already when he wasn’t looking. That was absolutely something she would do.
“I would say the latter is the most true, given the options at hand. That is not to say that the second option is not correct, as it absolutely is… but that’s not the type of narrative I’d like to weave at this juncture.” V “But the thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest, so it is probably best that I simply accompany you to the store so I can see to it that my cabinets are not as bare as Dante’s office is dark.”
Sirrus nodded as he closed a stary cabinet door, turning to fully face the slightly frazzled young man. “That seems agreeable enough. Hopefully my matter of fact, no-nonsense way of stating the obvious wasn’t as abrasive as it seems now that I am able to look back on it. Hindsight is 2020, as they say.” He straightened out his long shirt, adjusting his shoulders as he allowed his head to pull from side to side. He was slightly uncomfortable as, for the first time, he stepped close enough to V to notice that they were largely the same size and stature. What an eye-opening realization. “I’m sarcastic, some would even sardonic, but I like to think I’m not unfeeling. I’ve yet to lose my grip on the reality of the world around me and start to view the rest of the world with a sort of cold dissonance like so many around me have. What do people call that now? Being edgy? Somehow I am under the impression that that might not be the proper use of that term.”
V brushed him off, taking a step to the side instead of taking a step back. He wasn’t intimidated by the tall redhead despite the fact that he was sure that he probably had ample reason to be. There was a certain mysterious quality to him that was carefully outlined with a certain measure of involuntary menace that he couldn’t quite place, and his prior comments didn’t help in that regard. There was just something… feral about him, some sort of wild strength that he knew that his guest could reach into if he wished to do so and bring to bear against those he considered deserving of it. It was something that he could just feel in the pit of his stomach, a sort of primordial sense of strength and power that reminded him of his own family, but it was notably different in a way that was hard to describe. Was it darker somehow? Was that the right way to put it? 
But that wondering was enough to keep him grounded in a situation like this. He seemed trustworthy, but he would still keep his guard up until he was absolutely sure, even if he wasn’t actively trying to do so. It was simply instinct, and going with his gut had kept him alive this long, so he was going to continue doing so. If it wasn’t broken, then he wasn’t going to fix it. “Think nothing of it. I take no offense to you stating the obvious. I don’t think that there has been food in this house in at least a decade.”
“Probably longer than that, if I remember correctly. This place has been empty for about fifteen years. After the will was read, Magnolia’s side of the family cleaned the place out as quickly as they could before they went their separate ways. Quite a lot of bad blood between them, from what I could tell. It was a shame how that all played out, but grief brings out the worst in people, especially when the root cause of that grief is so… unexpected.” The man with the long red hair peered out of the back door for a moment as though he were expecting something or perhaps had heard a commotion of some sort. He seemed to study the bushes against the back wall for a long moment before continuing. “As per your request… that is more than fine by me. I won’t, then. I shall pretend that we never mentioned the food in the first place.”
“You say that as though you were personally there to see it. You seem too young to have witnessed something of that nature, but you have first-hand knowledge of it from a viewpoint that would suggest that you were a neutral party witnessing it from within the inner circle of what was going on.” V was admittedly curious as to how Sirrus would explain something like that in a way that made sense. Or would it make sense at all? Who was to say. He would simply have to wait and find out. “I had assumed that we were quite close in age. But then again, everyone knows what they say about assuming things. I should have known better than to think that I know everything about someone that I barely know. My mistake.”
“Looks can be deceiving, as I’m sure you know first hand. Your family is quite literally living proof of that concept. I assure you however that I was present. I just seem younger than…” He stopped, catching himself as though he were about to say something that he didn’t mean to, waiving off both his near mistake and V’s apology casually. V was clever, something that he had pegged about him from the very first moment that they had made eye contact. It was something intrinsic in the way that he held himself, and every time that he had opened his mouth since then had only served to strengthen that notion. But now his keen intellect was becoming troublesome, not that it changed anything in the end either way. ”That quote from before about the harvest… William Blake, if I remember correctly? I’m quite fond of his works, especially the illustrations. Quite the brilliant man.” He stopped for a moment, seemingly considering something before looking over at the doorway. He then nodded quietly to himself before redirecting his attention towards V once more, finding his companion’s silence interesting. He seemed to be waiting for him to continue. “Personally, Mary Shelly is my all-time favorite. Frankenstein and all that. I have a more contemporary favorite as of late, but telling you that might say more about me than I mean for it to, so I’ll keep it to myself for now.
Now V had more questions than answers. Sirrus was a walking mystery, and the more that he spoke, the more V questioned his own perception and his impression of him changed. It was as fascinating as it was confounding, but he couldn’t say that he disliked it. There was just something captivating about not being able to read him, regardless of how hard he tried. A part of him wondered if anyone else in his family had this issue. He would ask them when presented with the chance to do so. Well then, back to what we were discussing before.”
“We were discussing something before? I can’t say that I remember anything. But I do recall you saying to “think nothing of it.” The playfully smug, all-knowing tone of voice that he spoke in was enough to make V shake his head and roll his eyes, but he resisted. It was a welcome juxtaposition to the conversation that they had just indulged in, and they were both somehow simultaneously relieved that they didn’t have to indulge in it any longer.
He couldn’t help but snicker somewhat at that response. Sirrus was endearingly hatstand, wasn’t he? Despite the unintentionally tense conversation that they had just indulged in, the white-haired summoner couldn’t help but be amused. It was complicated, and yet so very simple. “Let’s go to the store, Sirrus. I’ll tell the others that we will return shortly. You may accompany me if you’d like.”
Sirrus nodded politely, using both hands to signal to him that he was to walk first as he bowed lower than what was needed and stepped back out of his companion’s way. V scoffed in amusement but went along with his slightly antiquated gesture, admittedly entertained by it. Yes, this had to be what other people felt like when they met him for the first time. He understood why they looked at him like that now. Slowly but surely, it was all coming together.
(-~-)
From what they could tell, the store was mostly empty. It was nearly 9 o’clock at night, and it seemed that everyone who wanted to buy groceries had done so by then. While it was understandable that most people in the city wouldn’t want to start cooking this late, it was still a little bit surreal to see just how few people were willing to make a midnight dash to the supermarket to stock up on general goods and necessities. One could only imagine that recent events in the region had made people more than a little bit jumpy, but this was an entirely new level of silent unrest that made an already somewhat eerie environment that much more uncomfortable.
As the absentmindedly browsed the shelves in relative silence, V shifted in discomfort. He couldn’t shake the persistent feeling that something simply wasn’t right, and that he should go with his gut and leave this place before something happened. Although it was basically impossible to predict something like that, V was convinced that the persistent feeling of unrecognizable dread that he felt brewing in the very pit of his stomach was something more substantial than he was allowing himself to believe. And under the guise of trying not to seem silently panicked, he couldn’t help but feel a nameless terror overtake him. This feeling that he felt was familiar in the worst way possible. It reminded him of the train ride back in Lucia’s homeland, the strange subconscious sensation that he was no longer in the driver’s seat in regards to his own cognitive feedback. And the idea that his enemy might be trying to do something, anything at all, was not good. He needed to do something fast.
“I apologize if my being around you alone is subconsciously offputting. I get the impression that you are disturbed, and you probably aren’t sure what that is just yet. Let me assure you that it is in fact, me, and that I am not doing so intentionally.” Sirrus casually reached up and took a can down from a shelf, turning it over in his hands absentmindedly as he studied it to see if it was something that he could use. “But the disturbance that you feel is most certainly tangible. I recognized your specific gifts and aptitudes a while back. You have a heightened sensitivity to certain things. Very useful if utilized correctly.” 
He paused for a moment to look at V, seemingly waiting for him to respond in some way. As he realized that his companion wasn’t speaking, he sighed with bated breath, looking slowly from side to side as he checked to make sure that no one was around them. Not that he needed his eyes to do that. It was more for V’s benefit than his own, in any case. “To someone with a trained eye, abilities like that stick out like a sore thumb, especially when the person in possession of them doesn’t yet know how to control them. But that is not to say that you don’t have amazing potential if only someone were to educate you as to how to do deliberately what already comes to you so naturally.”
“Gifts? What are you…” V paused as he considered what he wanted to say next. Sirrus could see something about him that the rest of the people he knew couldn’t? That was alarming to him for reasons that he couldn’t quite place at the moment. Was he that obvious? What else had he been doing that he just hadn’t noticed was a dead giveaway in regards to his true nature? Could anyone else tell, or was that something specific to Sirrus?
“Your grandfather is the Dark Knight Sparda, yes? I couldn’t help but notice your surname. He was a good man. And he was very powerful. I see things in both you and your brother that I do not see in your older relatives.” He seemed to be speaking carefully as he headed to the center aisle in his search for… whatever it was that he was looking for to cook dinner with. He seemed to notice V’s quiet, well-concealed panic, but the atmosphere had changed notably in the air around them. There was a certain latent hostility to V’s demeanor that hadn’t been there before, and for the first time since he’d arrived in town to carry out his mission, he felt genuinely threatened by someone. While he had indeed encountered resistance, nothing so far had felt so pure, so dynamic in its ability to utterly destroy him, and he got the impression that neither V nor himself truly knew what the young man with the white hair was capable of at that moment. And as exhilarating as that might be under most circumstances, this was far from the case at this moment in time. 
It was time to start explaining himself.
“... Sometimes things skip a generation, carried in latent genes by your forebears. This may be one of those cases. That’s what makes me as powerful as I am in some regards. And it is why we have what I like to call Dry Generations; instances in which nothing particularly interesting happens.” The hostility level didn’t decrease much, and Sirrus took a mental note of that, preparing himself should the worst happen. And he hoped with every fiber of his being that it wouldn’t. Something told him that if he had to resort to that, Vergil wouldn’t appreciate him having to explain it after the fact, and the last thing he wanted to have to do was pry Yamato out of his own chest. Vergil had quite the throwing arm. And as fast as he was, he wasn’t sure he was quite that fast. “But when more interesting individuals are born, well, they are most certainly more… intriguing. You and Nero seem to fit that bill nicely.”
“Are you threatening me?” V asked point-blank, his posture slightly more straight than it had been a moment before. Perhaps without thinking it, V had shifted into a readied stance, unwilling to be taken off guard by any kind of sudden attack. Resorting to this kind of public display of power had to be against some code of ethics or something, but he wasn’t going to stand there and take something like that laying down if it came to it. He needed to make that clear, even if Magnolia probably wouldn’t appreciate him bringing Sirrus to her in the middle of the night filled with puncture wounds from Shadow and several broken bones from a trip off of a local roof, courtesy of Griffon. He just hoped that he wouldn’t need to do that. And although he was somewhat sure that he wouldn’t need to, that didn’t change the fact that he might still need to defend himself.
In a moment of self-awareness, Sirrus shook his head, stepping back slightly as he allowed his head to rest on the edge of the center bin that he stood next to. There was some kind of meat inside of it with a sale sign next to it, but that would only become relevant if they made it out of this encounter in one piece. What a fascinating reaction. I would have never thought that he was capable of actually being overtly aggressive considering his physical state and general disposition. He normally has such a mild mentality.” He thought to himself as he let his arms fall to his sides, wanting to demonstrate as clearly as possible that he was not trying to intimidate V or cause him any harm. One could only imagine what he had been through in his young life, and he wasn’t going to add to that pain and suffering if he could help it. 
Maybe it was simply the demon side of him showing itself a little in that moment as a natural defense mechanism? He knew that they were not entirely human, after all, and he had no idea how much demonic blood ran through his veins. It mattered very little if he was being truthful with himself. His pedigree alone ensured that he was powerful, And that was something he could deeply sympathize with on an extremely personal level. He too carried his own darkness locked away deep within himself, even if it was a different form of it. He couldn’t judge him for the one time he slipped up. Hell, he’d give him a hug if he wasn’t so sure it would get him stabbed through the gut with V’s cane.
“Oh, perish the thought. Not even slightly. I wouldn’t dare. Though I do admit that it probably seems that way.” He watched V relax slightly, at least physically, sliding back into the comfortable leaning position that he was accustomed to associating with him. It made him wonder what the young summoner had been through that had made him this way, or if perhaps it was a one-off fluke reaction to this exact situation. Maybe he could ask him another time when he calmed all the way down. It seemed that he had at least a little bit of his father in him after all. “Quite the opposite though. I am extending an invitation. I would like to help you with that. Now, were you thinking fin or fang in regards to protein for this meal? It seems we have simpler choices to make this time around. But something tells me it won’t always be that way. Darkness looms on the horizon, and I have the feeling that something sinister might be readying itself just out of view.”
V gave him an apprehensive look, unsure as to what to really say to that. This entire conversation had certainly changed his outlook on a few things, to say nothing of how it had nearly taken a turn for the worst. He needed ample time to think things through. He was used to being the logical, level-headed one in situations like this. Something about that conversation had severely taken him out of his element, But at least a few of his questions had been answered, even if more now lingered in the back of his mind. And more importantly, there hadn’t been a public display of supernatural violence that could have destroyed both of them and the building along with them. 
Sighing gently as if to physically rid himself of the toxic experience he had just suffered through, V looked at Sirrus, the both of them somehow knowing that the other regretted what had almost just happened even without saying it. It was best to leave things alone for now and just leave this store. Maybe the building itself was driving them both insane. “Fang.”
(-~-)
Gosh, writing this chapter makes me want to work on the story that I’ve been wanting to write for so long now. But not yet! I don’t pick projects up easily after I walk away from them, so for now, I will wait. There is still much to be done with this AU, but gosh writing Sirrus gets me in the mood for that. Let’s just say he doesn’t originate from this AU universe.
Here is the link to the form! It’s only 4 questions and should take about two minutes to answer. Thank you! You’re a big help to me. I want it to be clear that I’m not making anything from this fic, I just want to do something neat for charity and give you something cool in return.
https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1jD0AKYiX3EfLjt-M_Rk8CapJ0GdzVqB-9oDMhV3SG2A/edit?usp=sharing
Sorry for my rambling this week! I’m just excited, I guess! Also, a special thank you to the like 2 people on Tumblr that like my chapters every week. I like your energy =^~^=
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ericsonclan · 4 years ago
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Beware the Mitchotaur
Summary: Brody enjoys swimming with her friend Willy after school. When she leaves to go home she meets a new monster that she's never seen before.
Read on A03:
Brody could feel her anxiety bubbling inside of her as she strolled down the hallway to reach the school pool. There wasn’t swim practice today but still it always helped her to spend some time at the pool after school. Especially when her anxiety was overwhelming her. It was the first few weeks of classes so it wasn’t hard to pinpoint what was making her anxious. A new school year always freaked her out.
Still, there were some really nice new monsters in her sophomore class. Louis seemed to stick out promptly in her mind. He was a frankenstein which was extremely rare and he’d only been created a week or so before school had even started. He had a lot to learn but he was definitely the warmest and kindest of the new students. There was also a vampire that had joined in this year that shared a few classes with the selkie. So far Prisha seemed like an interesting person. If Brody could summon up some more courage, she was sure she’d be able to see how nice of a vampire Prisha was. Although she did have an intimidating presence... but so did Violet when Brody first talked to her and now the two of them were good friends. Perhaps the most unusual of the new students that joined her class was Clementine, a human. Why a human would decide to go to a school full of monsters Brody had no idea. Clementine seemed to be overwhelmed by all the different types of monsters but Brody could tell that she was a good person who wanted to see the best in all of her classmates. It would just take some time.
Brody slipped into the door to the pool. The comforting smell of chlorine filled her nose, causing a happy smile to appear on the selkie’s lips. She pulled the sides of her sealskin closer before walking to one of the benches on the side and placing her bag down. When she looked up she noticed that Willy had already made it to the pool and was doing his unusual tradition of pouring salt inside. When he had first done it in front of Brody, he explained that while chlorine had a faint saltiness to it it was nowhere near as salty as the waters where he originated from. So he had come up with the brilliant idea to add salt to the pool to make it feel more like home. The crazy part of it all was that it worked. He only did it on Fridays though so that when the pool got cleaned over the weekend the water would be back to its usual state for the other monsters who swam in it.
Brody kicked off her shoes and walked over to the sea creature who gave a happy grin when he noticed her. “Hey, Brody,” His grin faded slightly when he picked up the fact that she was really anxious today. “Rough day?”
“You could say that,” Brody mumbled and sat down at the side of the pool, putting her feet in and slowly kicking the water back and forth.
“Well, then I know what we’re doing today.” Willy jumped up to his feet, causing a slapping sound to emit throughout the room when his webbed feet hit the tiles. “Let’s see who can hold their breath the longest.”
Brody’s eyes danced at those words. There was something very calming about being at the bottom of the pool and even though it was a competition it was always in good fun so it didn’t stress her out. Wordlessly Brody got up, threw the doppled grey seal skin over her head and dived into the waters which bubbled until she emerged in her seal form.
“Yeah!” Willy pumped a fist in the air while he jumped. He quickly took off the container attached to his wrists and jumped in, causing a large wave to wash over Brody. “Okay, you know the rules. Swim down to the bottom and hold your breath. The longest one wins.”
Brody nodded, giving an excited bark before diving down further. Willy joined her in an instant and the pair hovered down at the bottom of the pool. It was only eight feet down but it felt like home to Brody. The calming waters around her, the light that danced off the edges of the pool and reached to the bottom. The company. It was perfect. Brody looked over at the sea creature whose gills were shut closed. An excited determination filled his eyes while he looked at Brody with a smile. Brody looked at him with a similar determination. As time passed Brody’s anxiety started to fizzle out and was replaced with warm, serene feelings. She looked over at Willy; she was really lucky to have a friend like him. The two spent many afternoons after class at the pool, whether it was races, showing off tricks, tag or simply sitting down at the bottom of the pool to do a breath-holding competition. Willy was always there. He really had become one of Brody’s closest friends. A constant happy light in her life here in the human world. She was grateful for him.
Willy started to squirm around and kick his webbed feet wildly; he was reaching his limits. Brody was starting to feel the pressure too. It was going to be down to the wire to see who would last longer. Willy bounced off the pool’s corners, trying to distract himself by making funny faces. Brody barked from laughter, releasing all of her air and causing her to shoot up. She took a few deep breaths before Willy appeared beside her. He shook his hair wildly, making droplets of water hit against the selkie.
“Down for a race?” Willy kicked his legs playfully.
Brody gave a happy bark before doing a backflip in the water. With that the race was on. Now that Brody had been on the swim team for a while it had become harder and harder for Willy to keep up. But he was no slouch: out of the newest tally they kept in the first few weeks Brody was only up by one win. Willy was determined for that to change.
“Ready, set, go!” Willy swam with all of his might, kicking his legs with such great force that it kept up with the selkie’s smooth swimming and against all odds Willy’s webbed hand was the first to reach the other end of the pool. Brody was only seconds behind, booping her nose against the pool. Brody transformed back into her human form and offered a hand out to the sea creature who took it immediately with a grin.
“Well, it looks like we’re tied again. But not for long.” Willy declared proudly.
“Yep, because I’m going to win next time.” Brody readjusted her sealskin on her back before flashing a confident grin over at Willy who was busying clicking the containers back onto his arms.
“Nope, because I still have some tricks up my scales so you better watch out,”
“Oh yeah? Well, don’t count this selkie out.” Brody’s eyes wandered over to the clock, her face falling when she saw the time. “I should probably head out.”
“Oh, okay,” Willy held his arm behind his back shyly. “Can you swim again after school on Monday?”
“Of course!” Brody gave a warm smile to her friend which caused him to beam.
“Yes! I can’t wait!” Willy exclaimed, his gills puffing out excitedly. He was shocked when Brody suddenly moved forward and wrapped him a hug.
“Thanks, Willy, for being my friend and spending time with me.” Brody whispered, tightening her hug. Willy’s arms wrapped around Brody as he swayed back and forth.
“Thanks for being my friend too! I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun and such a cool friend.”
The two stayed there for a moment, each of them swaying with the hug until Brody pulled away, ruffling Willy’s hair before grabbing her bag and exiting the pool. She walked down the corridor with a happy smile. Even though the day had started out rough, it had ended great as it always did when she got to go to the pool. She turned the corner, ready to head home when she heard a fellow monster’s voice call out in the hall.
“Hey, watch out for the Mitchotuar!” The student’s voice had a teasing edge to it. But the sentence was what really threw Brody. She didn’t have much time to think, however, when rushing down the hall came a tall, horned boy. His hooves clacked loudly against the hallway floor while he ran forward only to be stopped when he rammed into a wall, his horns getting stuck in the plaster. His legs pushed back roughly as he shook his head and gave angry snorts when his efforts to release himself failed.
Mitch couldn’t believe it. He had been so caught up in his own emotions and thoughts because of that argument he had with another monster that he ended up getting stuck. I look like such a fucking idiot. Mitch yanked back to try and break free but it didn’t work. His tail whacked harshly against his legs while he pulled and pulled but to no avail. He was really stuck.
“Do you need a hand?” A gentle voice appeared beside him.
“Of course I need a hand!” Mitch snapped, his eyes shooting over to look at who had spoken to him. His eyes immediately softened when he saw the girl who was standing beside him. Her auburn hair was slicked back with what he figured was pool water considering the level of chlorine that was covering her scent. She looked like a normal human; the only odd thing about her was a sealskin that she was pulling closer to herself. What kind of monster was she? Whatever kind she was, she had got to be one of the prettiest he’d ever seen. Her pale blue eyes were beautiful. Mitch snapped himself out of his thoughts. That didn't matter right now. Right now he had something he needed to do: apologize.
“Sorry,” the minotaur mumbled. “I didn’t mean to… I just want to get my horns unstuck.”
“Don’t worry about it,” The girl moved forward and took a closer look at the situation that Mitch had gotten himself stuck in. “I think I can loosen it if I can just reach…” The girl went on her tiptoes to reach her hands around Mitch’s right horn and with a gentle grip she shifted it back and forth, loosening it. Doing a light jog over to the other horn, she did the same. After a few seconds she stepped back with a deep breath. “Okay, now try moving back a bit.”
Mitch moved his hooves back and with a firm tug pulled himself out of the wall. A huge grin appeared on his face, glad to be free from the wall. When he looked over he noticed the girl was still there. She seemed happy as well.
“Whew, I’m glad that worked out. I’m Brody by the way,” The girl extended her hand which Mitch accepted right away, giving a firm handshake.
“Mitch.”
“That’s a nice name. I haven’t seen you in the halls of Ericson before. Are you new?”
“Yep, just started this year. I’m a sophomore.”
“Oh, the same as me,” The girl played with her sealskin. Mitch felt the warmth in his heart grow. She was the same year as him. “Sorry, guess I just didn’t notice you in class.”
“Eh, it’s fine,” Mitch waved dismissively. “Although it's crazy that you didn’t considering how big I am.”
The girl gave a light-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, I’ve never met a minotaur before.”
“Makes sense. Most are still on the island of Crete. Those who aren’t, well...” Mitch scratched the back of his head. “Let’s just say we aren’t a favorite amongst humans or monsters.”
He looked over at Brody who seemed saddened by his statement.
“Well, I won’t pay them any mind if you don’t.” Brody’s words came as a surprise to the minotaur. She definitely wasn’t reacting like he thought she would after he snapped at her.
“Umm, well, thanks,” Mitch was starting to feel overwhelmed. “This is probably a stupid question, but what kind of creature are you?”
“Oh, I’m a selkie.” Brody smiled up at Mitch.
“Selkie...selkie,” Mitch scratched his horn as his face scrunched in concentration. “I’ve heard that before.”
“Yeah, probably in one of the classes. We’re sealfolk. This sealskin helps me be able to change into a seal."
Mitch’s eyes widened at that. “That’s badass.”
Brody looked shocked for a moment, looking away with a shy smile. “Thanks.”
“So, does that mean you’re in your seal form at school?”
“No, only when I visit the pool or during swim practice.”
“You’re on the swim team?” Mitch’s ears perked up; this girl was getting cooler by the second.
“Yeah, for almost a whole year now.” Brody smiled up proudly at the minotaur.
“So, were you coming from practice today?” Mitch started to walk down the hall, hoping that if they found a spot outside they could talk some more. Brody jogged for a few seconds to catch up then kept pace with the minotaur.
“No, there wasn’t practice today. I was just swimming with my friend Willy. He goes to the junior high next door. He's a real sweet fella. A sea creature just like me. But he’s more scaly and fishlike. Has large eyes and webbed feet and hands. A real good swimmer too. We usually swim together after school.”
Mitch could tell from the way that Brody described him that he was a good friend and a pretty cool one too by the sounds of it. “He sounds awesome.”
“Well, if you’re free after school on Monday you can drop by the pool to meet him with me.”
Mitch’s eyes danced with excitement. “I’d like that.”
Brody seemed happy with Mitch’s enthusiasm and was about to ask him a question when the bell rang, signaling that another hour had passed.
“Oh, is it five already?” Brody’s face fell. “I’m really sorry to cut our talk short but I should get home.”
“Oh, okay,” Mitch’s tail fell flat at that news. He was really enjoying the conversation with Brody.
“We can talk more on Monday if you’d like.”
Brody’s words made Mitch’s heart beat excitedly, his tail curling around his leg. “Yeah, sounds good.”
“Great,” Brody’s hands wrapped her sealskin closer to her. “Then I guess I’ll see you Monday.”
“See you then.” Mitch gave a friendly wave goodbye to the selkie who returned it in kind with a warm smile before turning to walk home. Mitch felt an odd excitement course through him as he strolled towards the exit. For the first time in his life he couldn’t wait for the weekend to be over. His hooves clicked against the pavement when he stopped in his tracks, a realization washing over him. He had to let the school know about the mess he made in the hallway. It would becoming pretty fucking clear that it was him with one look so he might as well fess up and tell the principal.
“Fucking shit,” Mitch mumbled to himself and turned sharply on his heel. He stormed back into the school with an annoyed groan. Sometimes he really hated being a minotaur.
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lucyhblack · 4 years ago
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I can't decide on Spicyhoney, Spicyhoneymustard or Spicykustard. 
Summary: Red and Edge are pirates who find an unusual "treasure".
Red and Edge are pirates, with Edge being the captain and Red being his ship's immediate.
After capturing a boat that brought treasures from distant lands to the King, they find a skeleton as part of the "treasure".
The skeleton (UT! Sans or US! Papyrus) was trapped in, naked and scared, cage. Amazed and curious (skeleton monsters aren't even rare, so why trade them as a "treasure" and not just as a slave? Even more one that doesn't seem to have anything too much?) they decide to take it with them (thinking about maybe selling it as a slave more afternoon), but as soon as they get him out of the cage the poor monster tries flees.
Despite the malformation in his legs that prevents him from walking properly, yet he reaches the top of the ship just to look desperately at the ocean.Having nowhere to run, he is recaptured and chained to the mast as punishment.
Red and Edge try to communicate with the skeleton to no avail. He doesn't seem to understand a word of them and the few sounds he makes are incomprehensible. The two speculate whether he just doesn't know their language or if he has a disability beyond his legs, which may well be the case, given how the monster behaves.
The monster looks completely agonized over something (other than its sad situation), almost as if in pain. Felldyne is convinced that the skeleton is sick, but the monster seems to be in good health despite having a very low HP.
They seriously consider just getting rid of the monster (just one more mouth to feed and one that might not even be worth as much), but Red ends up convincing Edge that if they don't even get a good price, they'll still be able to sell it to some brothel for a reasonable price (and if not, he can serve as a free exp.).
One day in a moment of distraction, the skeleton escapes the chains. The pirates watch him with amusement, letting him wander stumbling across the deck, after all where would he go?
The skeleton ignores them all and seems to be frantically looking for something. It is when he sees one of the pirates pour himself some water in a barrel, he makes the most desperate and happy sound they have ever heard. The skeleton simply pushes the monster aside and plunges itself into the barrel. Everyone watching the scene was a little shocked as the skeleton sank into the barrel.
Red, who watched everything from the shadows, is puzzled and somewhat amused, but not worried. Sure, skeletal monsters can't drown, but it does seem a little drastic and futile to hide there.
The Barrel starts to shake and Red goes to check the hidden monster. When he looks inside he immediately changes from amused to shocked and scared. He closes the barrel and takes it to Edge's cabin, ignoring all the other monsters that attended the show.
His brother is very angry with Red entering his cabin with a barrel of water. Red says that his "guest" is inside and Edge worries that his brother has lost patience and killed the other skeleton.
An anguished sound comes from inside the barrel which immediately starts to shake and oscillate dangerously.
Edge gets up and approaches the barrel when Red pulls him away with an arm just in time that the barrel can't take and explodes, soaking the floor and leaving a stunned merskeleton amid the wooden wreckage.
They look shocked that not a simple skeleton monster, but a very rare merskeleton.
Edge just wants to throw him into the sea (he's a bit of a fish after all), and get rid of the problem (mermaids are a bad omen... more or less), but Red thinks it's their lucky break. They can make a fortune selling it, much more than selling a skeleton monster.
A little upset, Edge agrees to keep the merskeleton hidden in his cabin. They can no longer let him loose (he is too valuable) nor do they want the rest of the crew to find out (If Edge, who was not someone superstitious, was worried about a mermaid in the boat, imagine the rest of the idiots he commanded).
As the merskeleton dries, its tail and fins disappear, leaving only bones again. The monster starts to whimper and irritated by the sound Edge orders Red to fill his bathtub with sea water, he will not waste precious fresh water with the mermaid when there is an abundance of salt water around him.
They try to put it in the bathtub, but the skeleton's reaction surprises them. It looks like they're forcing him to dip in acid. The mermaid escapes from her hands and crawls over to the soaked carpet where she begins to roll on it.
Red's mind clicks and he realizes that the skeleton is not just a simple mermaid, but a freshwater one. Edge is upset, but agrees to waste (another) barrel of water for the mermaid.
Now they have to keep the mermaid alive and hidden until they reach a port. A much more complicated task when you have to share the cabin with a creature full of mysteries and charms.
Fun point:
On the ship that carried it, the merskeleton was portrayed in the record books as a rare decorative freshwater fish.
Mermaids are considered a bad omen (after all they enchant sailors to drown), so Red and Edge have to hide that they have one inside the ship.
The Merskeleton cannot be released into the sea, because it would obviously die in the salt water.
He cannot stay out of the water for long or his magic weakens and disappears. When in contact with fresh water it forms its tail and fins.
It is extremely harmful for him to be out of the water for more than a days, starting with discomfort until it becomes unbearable agony.
He doesn't understand Edge or Red's language and neither do they understand his language.
He can't sing to save his life (to be honest he can sing, but even Felldyne with a sore throat sings better than he does).
Edge is determined not to fall for the mermaid's charms. The mermaid has no intention of using any "charm" to win over anyone, least of all her stupid captors.
Red is doing his best not to notice, but he is sure they will not sell the fish (and trying harder not to see his brother trying to use his charms on the mermaid)
The crew is amused that their thorny captain is finally in love with something other than his ego (they soon assume that the “prisoner” is “warming Edge's bed, but they have no idea what he really is).
Felldyne is the only one who "feels" that there is something strange about the skeleton monster (she is just bothered by Edge's proximity to him and having gone from the crew's amusement to the captain's "treasure"), and because of her lines that the skeleton "bewitched" his captain, Edge is even more determined not to fall for the mermaid's lip (Red is laughing and crying at the idiocy of his brother and everyone around him).
The mermaid will definitely stay on the ship, will eventually win over the crew (especially the captain and perhaps his mate) and become "one of them".
Edge and Red will try to put clothes on him, but most of the time he will dispense with his pants and will never wear shoes.
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floosies · 4 years ago
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lovely: The Birth of Adelasia
pairing: possessed!oc x mcu!au x romantic!bucky barnes
summary: the near death experience of the young witch proved necessary for her growth and his understanding. This is not the aftermath, this is the beginning.
warnings: cursing, past violence, smut, horror themes (sometimes), mentions of depression
Please read with discretion. 18+ content.
A/N: The first nine chapters are the backstory to who she was. These are last nine will focus on the beginning of her new life as her true self. Again I was inspired by billie eilish’s song lovely. if someone you know is dealing with mental health issues please turn to these hotlines.
Tags: @indecisivedolly​
Series Masterlist
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Part 10: Change Your Mind
Their gazes met, he walked closer to her. Steve was quicker though. She felt Steve’s embrace fairly quickly, “I’m glad you’re doing okay. I shouldn’t have sent you into that mission, you weren’t ready-” “Steve, I am well. Please could you not crush me in your grasp.” She huffed out as he pulled away apologizing. His mind was racing, but a recurring thought he had was that of failure, of course. She was his little experiment, “you need to relax yourself. You did not fail, other factors were at play. Please calm yourself man.” He looked embarrassed and now she was just annoyed.
Bucky could make out some of what she had told his friend, and she was clearly upset. Before he could move from his stance she had left the room in a state of annoyance and anger. “Nice going pal, you pissed her off.” Steve turned to look at the other blue eyed man, “she must’ve read my mind. Fuck, she probably hates me.” His voice filled with regret at his train of thought.
It was better to let this blow over. What good would come of speaking to her when she was upset? He decided to head for his room instead. The mission had been physically exhausting and a long shower seemed like the thing he needed most now. Water went from warm cascades to hot rain like hail pelts, but he enjoyed the dull ache that came from his sore muscles as it ran down. Remembering it was his personal shower, he carefully sat himself on the black marble tiles of the shower.
Most would consider the scene odd, and perhaps unhygienic, he couldn’t care less. His mind was a jumble, playing memories of the mission, the things he had to do the following week. All the small things that made life seem normal, and then in a moment of mental silence his brain went to the dreams. The sweet ones and the final awful scene at the beach. At this point he changed the water temperature to cold, allowing himself to remember it was only in his head. Perhaps she could explain them to him, and why he was seeing them.
Wanting not to waste any more time, he finished his shower and got dressed. He was hoping she was in a better mood. In her room, she too had chosen to bathe as a way to release stress, she also found it a good time to talk to Tenebrae, “the nerve of him. Instead of carrying about how I feel, he only thinks of the reprimand he would have gotten,” the entity could feel the energy her anger produced, “he is a dorbel truly. All he sees are all the tiny details of his own mistakes. Don’t pay him attention, after all your friends are glad for your living. Perhaps his kindness should not be treated as friendship my dear,” its words echoed in her mind. FRIDAY however disrupted the thinking process.
He was finally going to speak to her. There was no denial of surprise at the sight of a garden that extended the room for miles it seemed, but there was a bed near the entrance, “you redecorated. It’s.....different.” Suddenly a comfortable looking arm chair and tea appeared, “yes I did. Please have a seat,” she pointed to the chair. As he studied her face he noticed her new eye color, how much she had subdued herself. She was reading his mind, a blush rose to her cheeks at how he was thinking of her.
“Well I’ll just answer all the questions on your mind right now.” This lead to him drinking two mugs of tea and some frosted cookies that she made appear. His expressions were calm but also very lively as he understood what happened. “how could you believe that no one cared about you? Wanda practically adores you.” She gave him a sad smile, “yes I suppose. However, Steve proved what I thought the others saw me as. Just a tool in a larger game that I only chose to participate in as a means to prove myself worthy of some type of kindness.” 
Adelasia was still reading his mind, and now she saw the dreams. She knew what would come and somehow she felt like all made sense. He put down the mug on the small table, “Steve felt like an asshole for that. I know coming from me you won’t believe this, but your life isn’t worthless. Yes you’ve spent it alone in the beginning, but there’s purpose in all of us I suppose.” She looked at him with a curious stare, “you sound just like my doctor.” He shrugged, “I umm...actually came here because-” “you had dreams.” She read his mind, “please don’t read my mind.” She knew he hated it, “but it involved me. Those were my memories.” Of course she was right, “who was the girl on the beach? At night?” Her heart began to race at the memory, she was a young witch, far too young honestly. She was part of the past, a memory more than someone who she knew well.
The child witch had discovered her powers in her earliest years. She was removed from her family by a coven. It was only her second ceremony, but that does not matter to the powers, to the entities. While she tried to complete a simple incantation something went amiss and she fell with a great thud. Paleness overtook her body, she was only there as a witness. The others watched not willing to touch the body, a passion of emotion rose in her and as a parting gift she took the girl’s body to the nearby shore and quietly murmured incantations for a safe passage into the afterlife. However, the tears came as she looked the feeble girl who could not surpass the strength of what was in her. Even though it was forbidden to intervene in the ceremonial acts, a part of her wished she had. Her body was burned later that night and her ashes along with her memory were thrown into the dark sea while the moon full and bright loomed over.
He could feel the tears prickling on his cheeks. She was no monster really, but then again neither was he. She was just a pained person and he was the asshole who doubted her. “Why are these dreams given to me?” Her hands went to wipe her tears away, “I- I’m not sure, I have a theory, but it could be wrong. Don’t think too much of this right now. If it continues, come back to me and we’ll figure things out.” He nodded and left the room not long after that. Later that night Steve had come to his room saying he explained himself to her and that things seemed alright now. She forgave people too easily, or at least for his liking.
Nightmares are the worst kinds of dreams to control. They hold more than just memories, they hold pains that were never attended to. However she knew very well whose nightmares these were. She could see the seat that convened his torture device where they hurt him. There was no saving him, not then and not now. She woke up in a cold sweat and with a fear in her heart. Quickly she asked FRIDAY how to get to his room. When she walked in his hands were in fists and his screams sounded so pained. Carefully she woke him with her powers, his fears still fresh in his mind led him to awake with a gasp. In a feverish frenzy he looked around for who had woken him up. Her eyes calmed him, “you were there.” His voice was no louder than a whisper, she sighed taking him in a light grasp so as to help calm him while she began realizing the truth of the situation, “I was. Now I feel my theory is true.”
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idealistsinc · 4 years ago
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closed doors
The morning dawns a gauzy pink over Bloodshore. The ocean’s song hums along the beach, the lapping waves a faintly-tapped tambourine. Vhox wakes to a nest of blankets tangled about his hips and, for a moment, permits himself to bask in the sleepy warmth that tingles in every limb. He’ll never get used to the novelty of a familiar bed, nor of such a pleasant bedmate—
But a fumble of his arm over cold sheets reveals that Rin had already risen bells ago. It’s very like him to get up too early—assuming he even slept at all. Rin probably moved to the den to fuss over the Gate’s logbooks for the third time this week, a cup of coffee close at hand, violet eyes narrow and focused behind his glasses, his ears perked...Vhox stretches languidly, something soft unfurling in his chest like wings. Rin works much harder than his paycheque warrants. Perhaps, Vhox thinks, he will welcome a distraction from the sea of numerals, columns, and tables.
Vhox indulges a daydream of his preferred method of distraction for a little longer than he ought, then at last puts forth the effort to drag himself out of bed. The chilled, dewy dampness of the wooden floor chases the lingering heat from his soles; he shivers reflexively as he crosses it, reaching for the door.
There is something black under Vhox’s fingernails.
The room contracts to the size of a pin. Dirt, he tells himself as he digs the residue out from under his nailbeds, but dread coils around his throat like a hangman’s noose, cinching tighter and tighter with each passing heartbeat until his lungs spasm, until his eyes burn. Dirt, it’s dirt, it has to be dirt—
Through the window streams a red sun. Vhox notices, then, what he hadn’t before: the stains that splotch the floor like pitch. Ruddy sheets snarled at the foot of the bed. The reek of salt. Gods, how the room reeks of salt.
“Rin,” he breathes. “No, no, no—”
It is the way of these things that, when Vhox scrambles for the doorknob on the knife-edge of panic, it will not turn in his hand. His palms slip, soaked (with what), and he chokes on the memory of another door that would not open, another door slammed shut as the dark blotted out his vision and the acid boiled in his veins and he— “Rin, are you there? Th’ door’s—th’ door’s jammed. Rin?”
Oh, there is so very much that flakes from Vhox’s hands.
He sets his shoulder to the frame. He knows, in the way of these things, that he must get through that door—he crashes his weight into it, the sound drowned out by the screaming lash of the ocean against the shoreline. It does not budge. The floor sways beneath Vhox’s feet. There is no room, after all, just the shadows like the brig they threw him into while they decided what to do with him, a closed hole that stunk of salt and shit, back when he didn’t even know what he had done or yet could do. He never remembers when that side of him closes over his head like a wave—but he must have wanted to do it, right? Otherwise, why would he… Vhox presses hard against the wood, listening with single-minded desperation for a scuff, a cough, a footstep. Anything at all to show that Rin is still there, but all Vhox can hear is the deafening cannonade of his own heart. “Can you ‘ear me? Rin, fuck, I need—I need you to open the fuckin’ door, I can’t—”
Please, let him still be there. Let it be that he can hear him but won’t open the door. Let Rin think he’s a monster because he is one, let him leave him in this room to rot like he deserves, as long as he’s not—he’s not—he’s not—
But Vhox knows, in the way of these things, that the floor on the other side of the door is stained with a fluid like pitch. That the air there, too, reeks of salt. That through those windows as well as these streams a red, red sun.
That Rin can’t hear him, because—
“For fuck’s sake, say something! Answer me! Rin—”
. . .
Somewhere else, Vhox lurches upright in a dark, dark room. The blankets snare his legs like a fishing net, like a binding rope; he scrabbles away in blind terror and nearly clocks his skull on the headboard, gulping breaths that yet smell of salt, why does it reek of salt—
“Vhox?” The body in the bed with him stirs, sleep-muddled. Vhox can’t make out any of Rin’s features past the reddish haze that clouds his vision. “Are you all right?”
The monster says, No. It stalks at the very edge of his consciousness, a sharp-toothed, many-legged thing that ever urges: Protect yourself. Let go. Let go. Vhox sinks his nails into his thighs without feeling it, his whole world shrinking to holding the monster at bay in a white-knuckled grip. “Get out.” It comes out too thin, too pleading. “Get out, Rin, I’m—”
Rin sits up. But rather than put the safety of a shut, locked, barred door between them, he shifts closer. Vhox feels a gentle hand brush his shoulder, startlingly cool on his burning hot skin. “You’re not,” says Rin. “You’ve been working with Charlotte, haven’t you? Tell me what she told you to do.”
It’s true that Charlotte has coached him for several moons. Breathe, she always tells him. Deep to your core. Cling to control with both hands if you have to. But how can he cling to it, when he is the monster and the monster is him; how can he breathe past the thorns that snarl in his chest, because Rin is sitting far too close to the part of Vhox that screams in the back of his head, Kill him. Vhox wants to shove him away, but is stopped by the sudden, bloody conviction that he will drive his fist through Rin’s ribs by mistake if he tries. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. Please, Rin, I don’t want to h—I don’t want to hurt you—”
“I know. And you’re not going to.” Rin is still touching him, palm gliding feather-light over his back. “You’re safe. We’re both safe, okay? Now, deep breath and hold it, like you’re going to swim. Can you do that?”
Vhox tries—for Rin’s sake if nothing else. He burns through breath too fast, exhaling roughly, struggling to fill his lungs instead of drawing shallow, whistling sips of the air. But after a few labored attempts, the strangling noose around his neck loosens. Rin waits until he breathes a little easier, then threads his fingers through Vhox’s claw-like ones, still clenched painfully on his thigh. “See? You’re not hurting me,” he says, guiding Vhox’s hand to his face with a confidence and trust that makes Vhox feel more than a little nauseated. He doesn’t dare so much as twitch as Rin skims Vhox’s calloused fingertips over the delicate flesh of his throat, his jaw, his cheek. “You won’t hurt me. You’re safe.”
He isn’t. Yet slowly, very slowly, the monster recedes like the tide, and the fear begins to drain down the scupper.
Rin must feel the first cord of tension release. He climbs into Vhox’s lap and presses flush against him, tucking his head into the space under Vhox’s chin, his skin smooth and bed-warmed, still. Vhox counts down a slowing string of heartbeats before he permits himself to touch him, feeling his way over the knobs of Rin’s spine, the sharp planes of his shoulder blades, the plume of his swishing tail—if Rin was frightened, if he at all considered he might end up with his guts spilled out over the bed for his trouble, he doesn’t otherwise show it. Vhox sighs into the curling strands of Rin’s hair.
There is much Vhox could say to him right now. Do you have a death wish? might be a good place to start. His stomach roils to imagine what he could have done to him; he wants to shout at him, demand to know what the fuck he was thinking to stay within striking range of a monster. But Vhox has done that already, more frequently than he would like to admit. And no matter how many times Vhox jolts awake in the middle of the night on the edge of a cliff, Rin weathers it uncomplaining—the man who bitches and moans when the sheets are the wrong thread count in seedy little Lower Decks taverns, uncomplaining when his sleep is interrupted and his life is threatened, as tender and gracious and kind as anyone has ever been to Vhox.
So Vhox tightens his arms around Rin, and instead, he says, “...Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Rin nuzzles Vhox’s sweat-soaked collarbone with a drowsy affection that turns Vhox’s heart over for entirely different reasons. “Were you having a nightmare?”
“Yeah. But s’nothin’.”
Vhox feels Rin tilt his head back a little as though to look at him, his voice dry. “Are you sure? If that was nothing, I dread to see what something looks like.”
For Vhox, something began when he woke one red Limsan morning to shredded bedsheets and a broken lock. He avoided spending nights with Rin for as long as possible, after that, until at last Rin’s increasingly obvious distress got the better of him and he had been forced to confess to the night terrors he once suffered—and apparently suffered still. And Rin handled it. By the Twelve, did he handle it. He paid for adjacent lodging at inns for a while, then slept perched in chairs when Vhox finally caved to guilt enough to share a room, ever accommodating when he should have been afraid. Why isn’t he? Vhox asks himself, too often, as he remembers how Rin stumbled into that camp a second time, the blood not yet dried on his bandaged arm, and begged for Vhox to come home. He should have been afraid, but wasn’t, because—
Vhox knows the reason. Even if he can’t admit it. Even if he doesn’t believe it, he knows. And though it would be for Rin’s own good to scare him away, though it would make him safe, Vhox can no longer bring himself to hurt him like that again. He is...too weak.
Perhaps it’s selfishness, but he doesn’t want to make Rin as terrified of him as Vhox is of himself.
“I’m sure.” He presses his lips to the crown of Rin’s head, aching in a way that does not bear thinking about too long. “But I’ll finish th’ night on th’ couch. More comfortable there.”
It’s a testament to how badly shaken Vhox must seem that Rin ventures no objections; he only leans up to kiss him properly, then reluctantly lets go. “All right. You’re welcome to come back when your shoulders start complaining about the sofa’s comfort, though.”
Vhox smiles wanly—not that Rin can see that, absent his glasses as he is—and slowly gets out of bed. The floor is cool and slightly damp from the humid air, but nothing more. It’s only when Vhox closes the bedroom door behind him, so that he lingers alone in the shadows and salt-sprayed air of the den, that he feels a disquieting echo...He cracks the door just an ilm, just to make sure he can. “Rin?”
“Yes?”
There is much Vhox could say to him. Thank you, to start. For his presence in his life and his bed, for the roof over his head, for a safe harbor to always return to. He doesn’t know what would have happened to him if Rin had not come back, if he had not reached out to the man and the monster both and said, “You don’t have to live like this. I don’t want you to.” Vhox remembers the domesticity of his dream before it soured, that sweet ambrosia of comfort and refuge, and begins in his heart, I��
No, not yet. Not even to himself.
“G’night,” says Vhox instead, the softness in his voice speaking to what he cannot, and melts away into the dark.
vhox belongs to @mimiorzea still
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