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imagine-loki · 6 years ago

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Unofferable, Part II

TITLE: Unofferable, Part II

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 9, Exiled AUTHOR: unofferable-fic ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine courting Loki in secret for a number of years. While you’re both more than happy with the arrangement and are genuinely in love, you can never make your relationship public because of your status as a mortal servant.

RATING: M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Angst, language, violence, Odin’s bad parenting. Playlist: “Weapons Drawn” — Brad Derrick, “Mood” — Porches, “Arrival of the Birds” — The Cinematic Orchestra, “The End of All Things” — Panic! At The Disco

Of all the events that could have taken place on Jotunheim, a massive fight just had to happen. Ellie couldn’t help but feel like their luck had run out. Firstly, Odin should have stopped them before they even set foot on this barren wasteland. Secondly, Thor should maybe have acted less like his usual rash self, and stopped and thought for but a minute. Perhaps then, she wouldn’t be placing her dagger in its sheath and drawing her bow from her back.

“Keep your distance,” Loki ordered, much like he would order her around in training. “And stay by my side at all times. We cover each other and the others.”

“Of course,” she answered, knowing he was completely in the right. “You’ve my back and I have yours.”

While the Frost Giants immediately swarmed around Thor, he didn’t seem to be struggling at all, happily smashing his hammer into any that got too close, all with an arrogant smirk on his face. Loki was on high alert, throwing knives at any enemies who tried to rush the pair, while she made sure to aim and fire at any Jötunns that came into view, aiming specifically for their necks and and weak spots in their armour. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif quickly readied themselves for battle.

Over the clashing of weapons and roars of the Frost Giants, she could hear Fandral and Volstagg discussing their fight plan.

“Well?” the former asked. “What move, do you think?”

“I say we use ‘The Norn’s Revenge’,” was Volstagg’s reply as he swung his axe at an oncoming Jötunn.

“At this close range? I think ‘The Alfheim Lunge’ is a better move.”

“Maybe if they were three feet tall! No! How about ‘The Randy Valkyrie’?”

Only when Hogun urged them both to shut up did the argument end. He and Sif wasted no time in arming themselves and defending each other with experience gathered over centuries of fighting side by side. Together, the group formed a circle around Thor, who seemed to be having the time of his life.

“At least make it a challenge for me!” he declared, before more Jötunns jumped from the temple walls to descended upon the group, the ground shaking beneath their feet on impact.

With her back to Loki, Ellie heard him yell for her to duck. She immediately dropped to one knee, firing another arrow with a thwish into a distant Jötunn. One of Loki’s throwing knives struck the warrior next to her target immediately after the arrow successfully landed.

“If Odin doesn’t get to Thor first,” she growled, breathing heavily as she notched another arrow and drew back the string. “I’ll wring his neck myself.”

“Get in line,” was Loki’s reply, gritting his teeth as he threw two more knives into nearby enemies, felling them both at once. “And follow me!”

She listened without any hesitance considering they were slowly getting swarmed, keeping an eye out as she backed up to join him behind a massive hunk of rock, not before offering some support to Sif as she struggled with a particularly aggressive attacker. Thankfully, Hogun had her back too.

Safely hidden from sight, Loki waved his hand and duplicates of themselves reappeared within the throng, firing knives and arrows at anyone they could.

“A distraction?” she asked him, trying to get her breath back as the cold air burned her lungs.

“Bait,” he answered, just as one Jötunn charged their duplicates, subsequently running through their transparent form and tumbling off the cliff.

She gave him a nod as he had the illusions disappear. “Nice. If only they could fall for that twice.”

“There are too many of them,” he bit out, quickly checking her over for any injuries before they returned to the commotion. “Are you alright?”

“Perfectly fine bar bein’ mad stressed. Are you okay?” When he nodded in reply, she continued on. “Come on, we should help the others before Thor gets them killed.”

Bow and knives in hand, the couple returned to battle, keeping themselves back to back as they fired at any Jötunns that go too close to the group. Ellie’s arm burned as she launched arrow after arrow, resorting to conjuring new ones when she used up all of the supply she had brought. A cry from Volstagg drew her attention immediately, and she looked up to see him toe to toe with a Frost Giant. Without hesitating, she fired an arrow that struck her target, giving the Asgardian enough time to headbutt it into unconsciousness.

“Don’t let them touch you!” he called out to the group, his arm covered in a massive sizzling black mark, presumably caused by the touch of their ice cold skin.

Suddenly, a barrage of ice bullets came hurling at Sif and Ellie. As quickly as she could, Ellie divided behind the more experienced warrior, knowing that her shield could cover them both. Sif lunged back into battle as the mortal rolled to the side, squatting on the ground as she noticed a massive Jötunn thundering towards her.

“Shit,” she muttered. No time to notch another arrow. One hand grabbed her dagger while the other placed her bow on her back.

“Ellie!” she heard Loki scream from behind her. “Through its legs!”

The closer the giant got, the more the ground beneath her bounced and shook.

Though she was frightened, she knew what Loki would do. She trusted him as she quickly got to her feet and ran directly towards her attacker. As he raised his weapon to fell her in one swing, she leaned back and dived to the ground, sliding straight between his legs. He missed his target and ran right into the Trickster, who stabbed him with a vicious cry.

As Ellie turned to help, she saw the giant fall to its knees and grab Loki’s other arm. Though the slippy ice beneath impeded her speed, she hurried back as fast as she could. The touch of the Jötunn quickly destroyed the armour on his arm, freezing and shattering it to reveal the bare skin beneath. The closer she got, the clearer the picture became.

The skin didn’t burn as Volstagg’s had done.

Instead, in turned blue; the same blue as the very hand that now held it.

She looked up to see Loki’s eyes grow wide as his entire arm painlessly changed colour.

What the—

She faltered, speechless. Even the Jötunn was thrown off. Quickly snapping out of it, she plunged her dagger into the back of its neck, effectively killing it. As Loki returned from his own daze, he kicked the body away from him and held up his arm to get a better look. Again, the blue slowly faded away and it returned to its normal shade. Looking up, he suddenly realised Ellie was standing in front of him. She met his gaze. The first emotion she recognised in his eyes was fear.

“Are you okay?” she asked quickly, watching intently as his arm returned to normal.

“I… I don’t know,” he answered, his eyes never leaving her.

“We have’ta get outta here,” she insisted, gently holding his hand in hers before he could pull away. “First things first. Then we’ll deal with this together, alright?”

After a moment to gather himself he nodded, and no sooner after did they turn their attention back to the larger issue at hand. As if on queue, a strangled scream drew their attention and they looked across the battle to see Fandral impaled on a large shard of ice.

“We can’t beat them!” Ellie insisted as Loki slew a giant behind the injured warrior with a knife. “Sif! We have’ta get him outta here!”

With a nod in agreement, Sif called out to the God of Thunder, who seemed more than happy to stay where he was battering anyone who came close.

As Hogun and Volstagg pulled Fandral off the shards, Loki appealed to his brother. “We must go!”

“Then go!” came the response, as Thor sent Mjölnir flying through as many Jötunns as possible.

“Don’t be an idiot, Thor!” Ellie implored. “We’ll all die here!”

Suddenly, the ground beneath them rumbled, a deep growl drawing Loki’s attention away from his brother. He shoved Ellie behind him and she looked over his shoulder. What she originally thought to be an ornate sculpture of some foreign beast began to move, ice falling from its horned face to reveal angry red eyes. As one of its clawed feet broke free of its confines, Volstagg threw Fandral over his shoulder and yelled out to the others. “Run!”

“On my back!” Loki said to Ellie, briefly squatting down so that she could climb on his back and wrap her arms around his shoulders. It was the only way she would keep up with the group. He stood swiftly, grabbing on to her legs and holding them around his waist as he took off running after the others. He called Thor’s name one more time over his shoulders, but said god was very nearly consumed in a piling mass of angry Frost Giants. The previously still beast suddenly erupted from the ice with a terrifying roar and wasted no time in pursuing them through the rocky wasteland. She thanked God that she weighed practically nothing to Loki, so that she didn’t impede him as they fled for their lives. Though they moved quickly it had no trouble catching up, barrelling through pillars of rock and ice as if they were made of hay. Around them, the world was falling apart, massive slabs of rock and stone falling from mountain sides, and yet even that couldn’t stop the enraged beast behind them.

A foreboding crack of lightening and a flash of light immediately grabbed Ellie’s attention. She turned her head to see lightening striking down for the sky into the plaza — presumably to Thor’s hammer — before the electricity flew out in all directions and felled many of the Jötunns. She would have felt relieved had the subsequent shockwave not trembled the ground beneath their feet. Suddenly, the ice began to crack.

“What has Thor done?” Volstagg called above the racket.

“Likely killed us all!” Loki answered, picking up the pace as the path behind them began to crumble and fall into the abyss.

Behind them, the pursuing beast suddenly stumbled as a fissure opened beneath its feet, and fell with a distant roar. Fandral laughed at the sight, despite the presence of thousands of Frost Giants still running desperately from the destruction. The group neared the very edge of the cliff, and Ellie clung to Loki as they leapt over the forming cracks in the ice.

Upon reaching the end of the line, Volstagg called out. “Heimdall! Open the bridge!”

Nothing. The only response was silence.

She looked around, praying that the Bifröst would suddenly open and take them home.

From the edge of the cliff, a massive claw swiftly rose and grabbed onto the ground at Sif’s feet. The beast they had thought to be slain slowly pulled itself up, its red eyes focused on the entire group. A snarl rumbled through its clenched fangs and Ellie felt Loki’s grip on her legs tighten. It roared, the force of which sent her hair flying everywhere. They were cornered.

“What do we do?” she asked Loki, unable to take her eyes off the monster before her.

“Stay with me,” he replied, his voice wavering as the beast stood on its back legs, but before it had a chance to attack, something huge and red flew through its open mouth and out the back of its head. The group stood stunned as it collapsed to the ground and Thor landed before it. While it sluggishly fell off the cliff’s edge, the prince turned to face his friends with an arrogant grin. Ellie could only stare back at him in disbelief as his smile slowly faded.

The group spun around to see themselves surrounded by thousands of Frost Giants. At the forefront stood Laufey, grinning menacingly as though they were mice caught in a trap.

“Stay behind me,” Loki’s voice said in her head. “No matter what happens, you and I stay together. I will get us out of this, okay?”

The Jötunns descended upon them before they were halted in their tracks by a deafening roar from above. The sky parted and the rainbow bridge shot from a hole behind the clouds. Within the blinding light, a figure flew down and landed beside them with a boom. Ellie blinked and held a hand in front of her face, the immense light burning her eyes. A horse whinnied and the unmistakable silhouette of Sleipnir appeared as the light slowly faded. Atop him sat the Allfather, clad in his battle armour.

He had finally come to their aid, only far later than originally planned.

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried even more now.

“Father!” Thor cheered, raising Mjölnir above his head. “We’ll finished them together!”

“Silence!” Odin hissed.

Though she couldn’t see Thor’s face from where she clung to Loki, she knew he looked dejected and confused. If he thought Odin came here to wage war, he was in for a rude awakening.

Laufey’s towering frame rose atop chunks of ice to look Odin in the eye. With a small smirk, he greeted him. “Allfather. You look weary…”

He was right. It was only now that Ellie noticed how he swayed atop his mount. Perhaps this was what caused his delay in arrival?

“Laufey,” he replied. “End this now.”

“Your boy sought this out.”

As the group awkwardly looked at said ‘boy’, Odin agreed. “You’re right. And these are the actions of a boy, treat them as such. You and I can end this here and now, before there is further bloodshed.”

“We are beyond diplomacy now, Allfather. He’ll get what he came for — war and death.”

“So be it.”

Without warning, Laufey swung an ice blade at Odin, but the latter was far quicker, even in his weak state. He raised Gungnir above his head, reopening the Bifröst and sending Laufey flying. Before anyone else had a chance to react, Ellie felt the familiar pull of the rainbow bridge as she, Loki, and the others were sent back to Asgard.

They had barely set foot on the familiar floor of the Observatory before Thor voiced his displeasure. “Why did you bring us back?”

“Do you realise what you have done?” Odin snapped. “What you have started?”

“I was protecting my home.”

“You cannot even protect your friends! How can you hope to protect a kingdom?” Odin tore Heimdall’s sword from the podium before tossing it at the Gatekeeper. “Get him to the healing room! Now!”

Sif, Volstagg, and Hogun quickly helped to escort Fandral out of the room, probably more than eager to be out of Odin’s line of fire. Loki slowly lowered Ellie to the ground, but kept an arm across her waist, shielding her from the Allfather.

“Remain here with me,” he murmured lowly so that only she may hear, his expression genuinely upset. “And do not say a word.”

“And not only did you put your friends in harm’s way,” Odin continued, enraged. “But you thought it acceptable to bring a mortal with you!”

Thor was insistent. “There won’t be a kingdom to protect if you’re afraid to act! The Jötunns must learn to fear me, just as they once feared you.”

“That is pride and vanity talking, not leadership. You have forgotten everything I taught you about a warrior’s patience.”

“While you wait and be patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us! The old ways are done. You’d stand giving speeches while Asgard falls!”

Odin had seemingly had enough as he erupted. “You’re a vain, greedy, cruel boy!”

Thor had no issue with shouting back at his father. “And you are an old man and a fool!”

With the God of Thunder’s words, the room grew eerily silent. Odin’s anger faded, replaced with the look of a disappointed and tired man. His eyes slowly lowered to the ground and Ellie feared what he would say next.

“Yes,” he began in but a whisper. “I was a fool to think you were ready.”

There was something in his voice — something that gave her a bad feeling in her gut. This didn’t feel like a typical telling off for Thor. Somehow, this seemed far worse.

We have to do something! she insisted, knowing Loki could hear her. This is our fault.

“I know,” he agreed. “And I will try to help.”

Loki, in a moment of panic, approached Odin and implored. “Father—”

The deafening growl which Odin made quickly silenced the younger sibling, stopping him dead in his tracks. In a reaction to the harsh shout, Loki reached his arm back, shielding Ellie from the Allfather’s anger even though she wasn’t the target of it. In turn, Ellie gripped his hand in hers, eager to also protect him from the frustrated king.

It was a reaction. A simple reaction what would be expected between lovers.

One which would convey far more to Odin than he was ready to see.

Though he was preoccupied with his argumentative son, the Allfather’s eyes drifted to their close proximity and Loki’s protective stance. Ellie noticed the slight and brief crease in his brow as he studied them. It was gesture that seemed to say a lot to him, and perhaps explained why the pair were so close. Perhaps he had never seen Loki react in such a way with a woman before. Or maybe he always had his suspicions and this merely confirmed them.

If she thought she was worried before, this new tight feeling in her chest couldn’t compare. With a thumping heart she moved to step away from Loki, but he firmly held her where she was, apparently uncaring under his father’s gaze or simple holding her there as a precaution.

As Odin spoke, Ellie broke his gaze, dropping her eyes to the floor. “It would seem that your trip to Jotunheim was not the only thing happening under my nose.”

Her eyes grew wide, and Loki’s grip on her arm grew tighter as he went into damage control yet again that day. “You must understand, I was merely—”

“I understand perfectly well. Both of my sons sought to betray my trust; one through waging war on a nation with which we have peace, and the other by refusing to wed so that he may continue to bed the palace servants. More specifically, his mortal handmaiden.”

The three people in question looked stunned, tears brimming in the corners of the brothers’ eyes as everything came to light. Ellie couldn’t help but meet Thor’s gaze, and yet she knew asking for his help was fruitless. Every one of them was in the firing line here — none of them would get out of this unscathed.

“Father,” Loki begged, trying to keep his voice even despite the slight quiver that could be heard. “Allow me to explain. I have not bedded anyone—”

“You would dare to lie to me?” Odin erupted again, his rage making a return. “You would dare to lie to your King? Your father? Your honeyed words mean little when I can see it with but one good eye!”

“Allfather,” Ellie cut in, earning her a look of dismay from her lover. “Please, you must understand—”

“You will not speak out of turn,” he all but growled. “You have no place or right in this conversation to tell me what to think! If you assume your affiliation with my son gives you a right to converse with me at this time then you are far more ignorant than I thought.”

“Do not speak to her like that!” Loki insisted, looking up at his father imploringly.

“I am your King and I will speak to my subjects however I please, you foolish boy! Have you forgotten that she went with you to wage war on Jotunheim? Perhaps she used her own persuasive words to convince you to bring her along!”

“She did no such thing—”

The air shifted in the room quite instantly, now with a sudden urgency that Odin’s words had brought. Ellie knew these accusations not only painted her in an ill light, but it went as far as implying that she contributed to Thor’s hotheaded idea. Going along out of obligation was one thing, but being one of the conspirators was another offence altogether…

And yet it was somewhat true — she helped Loki to plant the seeds in Thor’s mind.

“I should have her removed from her post for her transgressions,” Odin continued on, the disgust evident in his tone. “And for abusing her close position to the family.”

“I haven’t abused my position!” she argued, choosing her words carefully consider she was not entirely innocent in this situation. “Your accusations are empty, Allfather.”

She was panicking inside — she couldn’t help it. If she were to be thrown from the house of Odin, what could she do? What would she do without her friends? Without her job? Without Loki? The thought had the three of them scrambling for the right words.

“You are in no position to tell me whether my accusations are just or not!” the Allfather raged on. “You are but a Midgardian and you best remember your place in this realm!”

“Father, stop!” Loki yelled, forcing himself between them. “She has not abused her position and she had nothing to do with Jotunheim!”

Ellie was on the verge of desperate tears when Thor spoke up. “She did nothing! She had no part in this. I was the one who insisted on going to Jotunheim to protect our realm from the Frost Giants. It was I, and I alone, so do not punish the little one for my actions, though I still consider them necessary and deserved. She and Loki had nothing to do with this and it was my decision as king.”

His declaration left them momentarily stunned. Even Odin was silent as he considered his words. Ellie looked at the eldest brother in surprise and gratitude, her insides twisting when remembering that she was part of the reason that they had gotten to this point. She agreed upon the scheme with Loki, and now here they stood in the resulting destruction. Their plan had fallen apart so quickly, and now it seemed that the life they had carefully and lovingly assembled was at its end.

Slowly, Odin looked to his eldest son. It seemed as though his heart grew heavy with the revelations that were discovered and the words that were shared. With a slight shake in his voice, he spoke. “Thor Odinson, you have betrayed the express command of your King. Through your arrogance and stupidity, you have opened these peaceful realms and innocent lives to the horror and desolation of war!”

His anger returned once again, before he grasped Gungnir and thrust it into the podium, streaks of lightening erupting from its top.

Behind Thor, the portal of the Bifröst opened once again while Odin angrily approached his visibly distraught son and continued on. “You are unworthy of these realms!” He ripped the discs off Thor’s chest as Loki and Ellie looked on in shock. “You are unworthy of your title!” Next, he ripped away Thor’s cloak. “You are unworthy of the loved ones you have betrayed.”

Loki? What do we do? We have’ta do something!

“We cannot do anything, Ellie.”

But we caused this! This is our fault!

“That means little when we can do nought to stop it!”

“I now take from you, your power,” Odin stated as he returned to the podium and held his hand out to his son. Instantly, Mjölnir was ripped from his grasp and flew into the King’s awaiting hand. “In the name of my father and his father before.”

At his words, the armour on Thor’s arms disintegrated. For a brief moment, he looked to Ellie and Loki with desperation in his eyes before he again turned to his father. Only then did her tears finally fall as the King yelled. “I, Odin Allfather, cast you out!”

Odin thrust the hammer towards his son and, with a crack and flash of lightening, Thor was thrown backwards — his chest armour flying off as it was destroyed — and disappeared through the open vortex. Loki, visibly overcome with emotion, looked to his father in shock before quickly hurrying to the portal through which Thor had vanished. Ellie hurried after him, stunned into silence as Odin whispered something to Mjölnir before it too was hurled into the Bifröst.

No one said anything, probably because no one dared to test Odin further. With a heavy sigh, he tore his spear from its slot in the podium and the portal was closed. Before he turned to descend the steps, his gaze slowly met that of the shocked couple. Despite his earlier anger, he spoke with apparent sadness and disappointment. “We will discuss this later. I must go and mourn the loss of my son with my wife before I deal with you both.”

The pair watched as the Allfather left with a slight shake in his step, never once casting them a second glance. Left alone as Odin spoke briefly with Heimdall outside the observatory, Ellie gently touched Loki’s arm.

“What have we done?” she whispered, her vision blurring with tears.

As he looked away from the closed vortex, he too began to silently cry. “I… I don’t know.”

#Loki #Lover #Angst #Others #Submitted fic #submission #chapter 9 #unofferable-fic #unofferable Part II

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tnpx · 2 years ago

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Suicide by Homicide

TW: sui* attempt. Discussion of difference between harming yourself and harming other people on your way to harming yourself. * * * * * * * This woman murdered 6 people. Suicidal thoughts and plans to commit it aren't anything to shame. My sperm donor shamed me for the method I chose in high school. We're not talking about deliberately lethal self-injurious behavior. We're talking about Caring so little for yourself that you lose care for you fellow human such that you resign to being indifferent toward their humanity, sentience, and autonomy and throw caution to the wind as you recklessly end your life in a spectacle of carnage. I dont know her, the reports that she did this over a man scream, I wnt you to see what you did to me. Its the same dynamic as "13 Reasons Why" where the character leaves clues to punish from the grave. Wrong for killing themself? No. Wrong for exacting torture and making your death the responsibility of other people... eh, I feel like maybe there's ways where this dynamic of punishment exists that I cannot fully enumerate but I will say this. Killing bystanders on the say to your own death is repugnant. I am thankful she lived. Because this is something she needs to live with always. Her punishment should be living in the wake of her own actions. The person I dated when I was 18, Brandon Valentino (25... yeah I know now), was out on parole for trying to burn his building down with other people asleep. He did it "over a woman," but here's the thing--- in this scenario there's no such ting. Brandon's depraved indifference toward human life, Nicole Linton's depraved indifference toward human life extended beyond themselves. Plenty of serial killers and murders kill from a headspace of misery and contempt and acting out towards others because they want other to suffer. You could argue that this was a slip in the wrong direction after making a decisions with consequences beyond you. I've known and been in therapy with dozens of suicide survivors and maybe this is the type of path with consider, a spectacle of sorts that let's every one know that they kill me, it's your fault. This death, my death, and your proximity to me and my reasoning will be the anguish that you bear for the rest of your life. I've only known one person who thought this way and went through with it. Brandon fled the scene once the fire was set though. He was on parole and paying restitution when he trickle truthed this nugget into our relationship. And that's something we don't talk about. Making it known to a partner that you will kill yourself in their absence, letting them know that your are capable of it, burdening someone else with the responsibility of your death in advance and whispering sweet nothings about how you can't be without them or they changed your life, or some other combination of: you. here, with me,.. makes everything else fade away and what fading away is your desre to die. There are certainly exceptions to the conclusions I am drawing from my experience. I'm just saying there's nothing romantic about telling someone you'd die with out them and ou really mean it. Even said hyberbolicly you areputting the burden of your life on someone else who is not here for that. They're here to be with you, n ot without you. I am not talking to my fellow survivors who find meaning in building relationships and finding love in a world where you thought no one could see youre pain, hear your cries, or stop long enough to bother to ask if you're okay. I bet this was the heat of the moment. I'm just saying some people hurl themselves off one of those cliffs we always see folks hiking to on reality TV in LA. Other people floor it to 100mph into traffic. These actions are not the same and we should not treat them as such. 988 clearly didnt help here but it could've. There's some pathology to support that there are different kinds of suicidal thoughts and actions. I'm just drawing attention to the fact that this suicide attempt is not the same as others. Regina King's son, Cheslie Kryst, Robin Williams, Phillip Seymor Hoffman, Lee Thompson Young, Kate Spade, Bobby Christina Houston, Whitney Houston, Kristoff St. John, Kate Spade, Anthony Bourdain, Chester Bennington, Don Cornelius, ... none of them did this. I'm not saying people who literally take other down with them are not in need of the same therapies as those who only try to harm themselves without interference from others or with goading such as with police assisted suicide. It's the difference between killing yourself with your parents gun on purpose and taking that gun to school. This is whjy the mental disturbances defense to school shootings is asinine. These people undestand death and murder they choose to do it at risk of their own life because they can't or don't care about themselves. I dunno what happened to Nurse Nicole Linton before this: what chemical imbalances, traumas, or degradation in this or other relationships she experienced. Sounds like a dissociation with horrific consequences. Does the reason even matter though? She did it. She's guilty, She needs to be sentenced to living with the consequences of her actions which rings as true as any other murderer that is left to live out the natural consequences of her actions. She is likely capable of being rehabilitated, but there probably isnt any amount of penitence or making amends that can be exchanged for forgivenes sooner than the 18 years of childhood it'd take for that infant and that fetus to be swearable adult witnesses at her parole hearing.

https://www.khou.com/article/news/national/charges-california-fiery-wreck/285-3e002695-e044-44fb-97f5-b2c0306c9c9b

#NIcole Linton #Suicide

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cloudbattrolls · 5 years ago

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It’s almost All Hallow’s Eve, and you’re setting out some carved gourds that you made with Hinnom and Mah Jie. Mah Jie insisted on carving a horrorterror in hers, and it looks...well, it’s really hard to describe it, though the detail is incredible. It’s less scary than it is utterly baffling. Hinnom tried to make the ghost they’re always talking about, but they made the mouth too big and one of the eyes is lopsided. Still, you’re very proud of them both.

There’s a chill wind blowing through the steam, which is a welcome relief from the droplets settling in your curls. It’s getting lighter; morning will be here in a few hours. You kneel down to light the candles in the gourds.

Legend says they ward off the undead, but you know very well that ghosts and zombies won’t be scared of such a small flame. It takes a lot more fire to kill a zombie, and shades won’t be affected at all. There are other things too, worse things that snuff out fire as easy as blinking.

The wind picks up, and your flame sputters and flickers, but stays lit. You smile.

It then douses as an unnatural darkness falls over the area.

Your horns and hands crackle with lime psi as you look around, ready to defend yourself. You see a flicker of movement and hurl a ball of energy at it that will teleport whatever it is far away.

Only to have it come whizzing back at you, imploding in pretty sparkles seconds before it hits you.

Your jaw drops.

The steam draws together in a thick fog, swirling around you as you frantically try to figure out what’s happening. Your eyes turn bright lime as you hop into another reality, one with gray-blue cliffs and a dim purplish sky. It’s unhealthy to be here too long, since there’s less air than on Alternia.

Some of the fog teleports with you. Your glowing eyes narrow. That shouldn’t be possi -

“My dear descendant, I have to say, you’ve impressed me! I thought you’d never learn how to fight. Shame it’s wasted on - “

You hurl another ball of energy at the voice coming from the fog, mostly to make a point.

More sparkles explode distantly, and you teleport over to them -

- your freckled gray hand grabbed effortlessly by a shiny, smooth black one with pointed fingers.

“Doroch.” You snarl, infuriated by the sight and touch of your ancestor as you shake your hand free, backing up several feet.

“I can’t say ‘in the flesh’, I don’t have any. In the ghost? I’m more than a ghost. Hmm, what do you think - “

“You still talk an awful lot without saying anything. What do you want?”

A change of timeline hasn’t altered their appearance. Same smooth black body, their false head floating slightly above their neck. The familiar two points stick out of it, resembling meowbeast ears in size and shape. Same green clothing and billowing black cape.

Same glowing white eyes that manage to look mocking even without any pupils or iris to speak of, only the change in their shape an indicator of expression.

Right now they curl upward in joy.

“I have good news! I killed Stasis.”

You give them a blank look.

They twitch a false ear irritably.

“The horrorterror fragment you released when you killed that whelp of Growth’s. Remember?”

You don’t bother asking Doroch how they know; you’ve long resigned yourself to such things.

“What about him - it?” You say, feeling bad as you think of Sayamh. You still remember the eerie look of peace in his eyes before he let the cult tear him apart.

“I killed it. Keep up! I accept thank-yous in souls and interesting bones.”

“Why?” You retort, folding your arms.

They look puzzled for a moment, then smile a wide shark’s grin.

“Why wouldn’t I? We Juzuxts dispose of monsters, it’s our hatchright.”

You give the dullahan a deadpan look.

They huff in offense, flicking imaginary dust off their cape.

“I’m a fae! Completely different.”

“You didn’t come here just for praise. Get to the point.”

“Ah, I see there’s no fun banter to be had.” They say with a dramatic sigh, floating up slightly, cape billowing despite the lack of wind. They’re such an obnoxious ham.

“Aren’t you even a little curious how I found you?”

“No.”

“Well - ”

“If you don’t tell me what you want in the next five seconds, I’m shunting a boulder on you. I know it won’t hurt, but it’ll shut you up for a minute.”

They smile more in that irritating way they have, all sharp white teeth in their too-wide mouth. They hold their hands palms up, all innocence.

“Is it so hard to believe I just came to give you good news and see you again?”

You laugh harshly, in a way no one but your ancestors can draw from you. You sit on the bluish rock, hardly caring that it’s not comfortable.

“You let me rot in a circus until you needed me to fix your mess. Where were you when Naeyrn trapped me in my hive? Where were you when Blanca helped me out of that, even if it was just to use me too? When you finally met me, all I got to hear was how I was a disappointment to line of Juzuxt, because I wasn’t a sorcerer and I didn’t want to kill everyone who got in my way. And Empress forbid, I wasn’t hot enough.”

You stand back up. This is a waste of time; you can’t believe you even let them talk. Did you really think they’d have anything meaningful to say? You shake your head, frustrated not only by them but your own stupidity.

The reaper is completely still, not even their cape moving anymore. You’re about to cross back to your native reality - you’ll start feeling the lack of oxygen soon if you don’t - when they teleport only a few feet from you.

You summon another ball of crackling energy. Normally you’d think twice about it, but you’re pissed, and Doroch is a reaper - already undead, so nothing on your conscience if you have to rough them up a little.

“Go away.”

“I want to thank you.”

Their voice is quiet, submissive. Their hands are clasped in front of them.

“For what?” You snarl, as the ball converts into crackling lime lightning that arcs around you and your ancestor. You aren’t trying to control it; it simply moves.

“Your thanks should be staying away from me and my people. I have kids now. I have animals I look after. I have a whole new life and I don’t want you or anyone else to mess it up! Leave me alone.”

“I wanted to thank you for letting me go, back when you took down Dolcez.”

The lightning fizzles, turns to mere sparks. Your eyes narrow.

“I’m kind of regretting that right now.”

“I know you could have locked me away like they had. Killed me. Turned me over to the mercy of Chimera and Miruka.”

You sigh.

“What’s your point?”

They hesitate, then laugh softly.

“If I’d been you, I would have done any of the three.”

You squint.

“Is it because you actually feel bad and think you should suffer for your actions?”

“Unlike you, I don’t believe wasting emotion on such things. No, it’s because eliminating me would have been getting rid of a threat. It would have been smart.”

You teleport them beneath your foot before you they have time to think, turning the two of you at the same time so you’re looking over the cliff.

Your head’s getting faint.

Anger keeps you going.

“You don’t think you should pay for what you did?” You hiss, lines of bright lime energy spearing their slick black body in several places. They’re anti-space wards, primed to collapse into void if messed with - Doroch can’t send them back at you without disintegrating themself.

“Why should I care about anything you say? I spare your stupid life...undeath...whatever, and you still make fun of me. You still act like you’re better than I am despite everything you did.”

Your breathing is shallow. It doesn’t matter.

“Maidel.” They whisper.

“You’re almost out of air. Go back.”

“No! I want -”

Your mind goes blank. You want to...?

It’s hard to think.

Your bloodpusher feels slow.

“Let me free. You’re going to die.”

It’s hard to focus.

“I don’t want to have to take your soul, you fool.”

Shadows envelop you, and you breathe again. You take back all your power.

As the darkness retracts, the two of you are in a different world - not Alternia, but somewhere else full of fog. Somewhere with shadows that come from nowhere, creatures that are almost people when looked out from the corner of the eye. There’s no sun, only a grayish light that permeates everything. You glimpse vague faces, or face-like things - mismatched features together on a surface, sometimes sliding apart at odd angles.

You shrink away, but your bloodpusher aches at the same time. Death isn’t scary here. It’s just sad.

Here, Doroch looks like they did in life. Like their old self, Herzan Juzuxt. A little taller than you, rather thinner. But your faces and horns are the same, even if their freckles are scattered differently, and they’re dressed all in black leather now.

Even if their eyes are full of a self-assuredness you never had.

“Do you hate me that much?” They ask quietly.

You look away.

“You treated me like crap.”

“I felt I was being...jovial. Entertaining.”

“Really.”

“I haven’t been a troll in a long time, Maidel. When Blanca cursed me and cut off my head, she took more than my name or my form. She changed my nature. Pain seemed like a joke; I would exist forever, so my own and others’ pain would always pass. Everything seemed far less serious than it had before. I couldn’t stay among the living, so I couldn’t get attached; mortals stopped mattering except when they died.”

“Even your own descendant?”

“I am not your lusus.” They said, with a bare hint of amusement. “But I admit I was...harsh, with my jests. I forgot what it was to be scared and young.”

“Were you ever? The amazing Herzan Juzuxt, prodigy necromancer and high-level psiionic?”

They look around the shadowy landscape, with creatures of wisp and flame, bone and shadow parting around the two of you. They reach out and grab one, disintegrating it with nothing more than a touch. The dead murmur, but they have no sympathy to feel, no fear to express. They can only wait.

“I made my vulnerabilities into strengths. I took control of my weaknesses and I mastered them.”

“Uh-huh, by becoming a sick murderer who made monsters and loved controlling people.”

They chuckle.

“Unlike you, I see no need to be ashamed of what I want or who I am.”

Then their expression drops. They shuffle their feet and look at the ground.

“...I am sorry that I made you feel that way about yourself.”

You’re silent for a while, watching the dead. Doroch took you here once before, though you’re not sure this version of them remembers. It’s a crossroads, a layer of reality connected to the physical plane but not quite part of it. Psychics see into it sometimes, and ghosts can escape and become poltergeists.

Even the living can visit, if they have a guide.

“At first, I figured it was just normal.” You grunt. “One more person, confirming that I sucked as usual. But you’re my ancestor. I’m supposed to look up to you. I did look up to you. God, I wanted - “

You stop. They don’t deserve to hear it. You hate even admitting it to yourself.

For once, Doroch doesn’t push you. They only hum and look away, watching the tide of the dead, lost and plaintive, whisperings and gibberings coming from the crowd. You wonder if just as they’re changed here, so they also see the dead as the people they once were.

“I guess you can’t care.” You say, resigned. “You’re not a troll. I mean, I’m still mad. But it makes sense.”

Their floppy ears press against their skull like yours do and they turn around, wearing a hurt expression.

“Is that how you see me? An unfeeling monster?”

“You have lots of feelings and all of them revolve around making other people miserable. I’d say being a shadowy reaper who takes souls makes you a monster though.”

“I didn’t ask to be like this, Maidel.”

“You were already like this.”

Doroch’s face - Herzan’s face - raises an eyebrow.

“Perhaps. But everyone must die, and I must help those I can pass on.”

You actually laugh.

“Help? Do these ghosts look helped to you?”

“What do you care? You hate the dead. You never even tried to understand them.”

“You never tried to understand me.” You retort.

They pause, then pluck a spirit from the stream. It turns to streams of mist in their hand, soft indistinct whispers rippling through the fog as they turn it over in their hands.

You recoil.

“Can you honestly say that even if I’d done as you wished, behaved in some jademinding way you think I ought, that you would have accepted me? You look at me and you see something terrible and unnatural. I could see the fear in you from the first night. I could see your hate of power you didn’t understand.”

You take a deep breath. Your fingers clench.

“Maybe because everyone with weird powers has done nothing but screw with me!” You snarl. “First it was Naeyrn, then Sombra. Blanca turned up, then you, then Echthros! You’re all freaks who hurt everyone else! Every last one of you is THE SAME!”

You shout the last two words, then cover your mouth in a brief flash of embarrassment before realizing how stupid that is. No one can hear you here.

Doroch twirls the spirit into a spiral with a flourish, and it releases with a glad sigh you can barely hear. It’s one ghost of many, barely anything but raw spirit, and yet there’s something about it...

Thank you, come the quiet words, before it vanishes into the air. Then they speak in a curiously solemn tone.

“On Hallow’s Eve, some say the living and the dead are particularly close together. This isn’t strictly true; life and death are so intertwined that one can’t exist without the other. It is on Hallow’s Eve that those of us on either side can truly honor that connection, and bridge the fear that keeps both sides apart.”

You swallow.

“Who...whose ghost was that?”

“Your friend Sayamh Firahj. He sacrificed himself, didn’t he? I felt it in his soul. He gave himself up to kill the Siren, but that wasn’t really why he let them tear his Stasis fragment out.”

Breathlessness returns. You want Doroch to shut up, stop talking, but you can’t move or speak.

“He martyred himself for you.”

Make them stop. Make them stop.

“Was he the same as I?”

Hot tears well up against your will. You shouldn’t be crying over him. Crying because Doroch of all goddamn people thinks you deserve to feel bad. What right do they have?

“I don’t know.” You manage, taking sharp breaths. You throat feels full of glass.

They tilt their head.

“He’s at peace now. Let’s go back.”

With a flick of Doroch’s own psi - a dark teal unlike yours - the two of you are back in Derevnya.

“My time's almost up.” They point at the horizon, back in dullahan form, where the sun has almost risen.

It’s stupid to look into the red glow, but you do it anyway even if you have to shield your eyes. Without it being fully risen you can feel its heat, piercing into the cold heart of fog-shrouded Derevnya before you look away again.

“Was it thrilling, when you tried to kill me?”

You freeze.

“No.” You manage, honestly. “I was angry and scared and...”

You wish you actually felt horrible about it, and that makes you feel horrible. No one should kill their ancestor, even if that ancestor is Doroch.

“I didn’t really want to kill you. I wanted you to feel how I felt. I wanted to impress you.”

The words come dragged through gritted fangs. Are they happy now? Will they finally leave you alone, knowing your true pathetic weakness?

The dullahan smiles more gently than you’ve ever seen, if still with an edge of fae deviousness.

“You ought to worry more about impressing yourself.”

They turn to wisps of shadow and blow away in the chill wind.

All Hallow’s is almost over. The pumpkins still sit there, their lights on again but much lower.

You go back inside, hugging yourself and shivering despite the coming warmth.

All Hallow’s might be over, but you still set another pumpkin outside early next morning, one you carved yourself.

The little light burns as you step back in, illuminating a careful carving of Sayamh Firahj, the monster. The boy who wanted to save you.

Nothing interrupts it as it flickers throughout the day.

END

#doroch is the awful parent who makes barbs about your weight and looks under the guise of being 'concerned'#about how it will affect your 'opportunities'#but they actually do want to be better #still shitty though #cloud writes #maidel juzuxt

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