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#and -for emphasis- she's a goddamn shadow dragon
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Laying in bed thinking about her*
(*her being Ebb the shadow dragon)
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herotome · 3 years
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I dreamed a dreaaaam~ ^^ How cool, what an awesome way to be inspired. Do you have any specific games you really enjoy from the visual novel/otome side, and does anyone in particular inspire your writing style? Thank you again for answering my questions. <3
Hmm, I'll start with my writing style...
I have a long history of writing in a more flowery, long-winded style, and switched to a more concise, read-between-the-lines style when I started writing this game. I currently try to take after Gillian Flynn, but I was a big fan of Neil Gaiman for a long time.
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Specific games I've enjoyed VN/otome side... Mainstream games like Ozmafia!! and Amnesia: Memories were fun enough, but left me with a lot of ideas on what not to do haha.
I did mention Mystic Messenger already, so I'll move onto indie suggestions:
EBON LIGHT: @underbliss (Creator is not active on tumblr but I've taken a lot of inspiration from how she answered her asks, so....)
Thiiis game. It's a dark adventure fantasy about being carted to a foreign land with ancient magic and suspense and allying yourself with ELVES who each have their own motivations; some less savory than others! If you've ever wanted to date a canonically EVIL elf, choo-choo, this is your stop.
This was the first VN/otome I played that had my exact preference/style of writing dialogue choices! We both write them like RPGs - both inspired by games like Dragon Age, I think. Herotome was already well underway by the time I found this game, but it was still such a pleasant surprise; I actively replay it when I need motivation.
Link: https://underbliss.itch.io/ebon-light
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SOULSET: @nobreadstudio (They're more active on twitter, I think.)
Their story structure and use of foreshadowing is insane. It's another dark fantasy, but with more of an emphasis on solving various mysteries at the heart of the game. And lord do the mysteries blossom like goddamn flowers. It's a whole orchard of mysteries.
You start off with amnesia, locked in a house with five other people, so it's an escape room mystery, to boot.
What really sold me was the main character: the mature, sexy necromancer with the thigh high boots. I felt like games NEVER let me be the mature sexy anime lady, so this was quite the sell for me.
Link: https://store.steampowered.com/app/589860/SoulSet/
Link: https://nobreadstudio.itch.io/soulset
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THIS, MY SOUL: I was OBSESSED with the writing style of this game. It's a short romantic sci-fi about being adrift in space with a doting (if surly) android.
Link: https://agashi.itch.io/thismysoul
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CHANGELING: @steamberrystudio (the dev is actively working on a new game called Gilded Shadows!)
A high school urban fantasy about joining a club of supernatural teens and run-ins with the fae. To be honest I was just following the dev (Esh) here on tumblr and didn't even play the game until after I'd gotten to know her. I was leery of the fact that it took place in a school (felt like I was too old to enjoy high school games lol), and "ehhh isn't the whole supernatural BF shebang rather overdone?"
Then I played it. Oh. My. God. I really liked the protagonist. I got to fight with my in-game brother and I was hooked. The drama was well-paced and sensible, the characters were all interesting and well-developed, I think I stayed up late like 3 nights in a row trying to finish this game. I NEEDED to kiss them all and the bad endings were so fun.
Link: https://store.steampowered.com/app/1010240/Changeling/
Link: https://steamberry.itch.io/changeling
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BLOOMING PANIC: This game just came out this year and made some hella waves, maybe you guys have already heard of it? It takes place primarily in a chatroom like Mystic Messenger, but has video call segments!
The game is 100% dialogue, so rather than the writing I'm moreso inspired by how they coded an entire mock discord server in renpy, with functional individual channels. Like what??? You can do that?? Black magic. But in all seriousness the story is quite good, the characters have depth that surprised me, and I enjoyed it quite a lot.
Link: https://robobarbie.itch.io/blooming-panic
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CUPID: This one's a dark historical fantasy, and a horror, too. Mostly psychological horror?
I thiiiink the writing style was good... It certainly kept me reading, I binged the whole game in a single day. 8| Kept me on my toes and made a very interesting design choice in regarding its dialogue choices. I feel like I'm not selling this one very well, but if you enjoy horror, I do recommend going in blind. I don't like horror; I loved this.
Link: https://fervent.itch.io/cupidvn
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PERFUMARE: @pdrrook (this VN's final chapter JUST came out!! and there's will be more to enjoy in the upcoming IF, very exciting)
Last but very much not last, a modern dark... ... perhaps by now you noticed I really love dark stories lol.
A modern dark fantasy with a heavy emphasis on crime, mystery, and romance. You get framed, accused of murdering a drug dealer! You ally yourself with one of three phenomenal romance options! You can choose your pronouns! You have mind control powers.
The writing style is superb and enviable. At first I was just kind of clicking through, not especially engaged, but once those romances kick in? Oh boy. Rook has an incredible, enviable gift for writing romance scenes and relationships, an absolute inspiration. And once I was hooked on the first romantic moment, my third eye was open and I saw how beautifully the entire game was written from start to finish.
Perfumare should probably go higher on this list since I particularly enjoy and would love to emulate its writing style, but... this wasn't actually in a specific order, I just listed games off as I remembered them;;;
Link: https://pdrr.itch.io/perfumare
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Not remotely otome but enormously inspirational to my writing and game design decisions:
DISCO ELYSIUM: Hoo. I don't even know what to say. The murder! The banter! The CHOICES! This damn isometric RPG makes you fall in love with the most unlikely characters and doesn't let you date any of them. Then their official twitter account liked my comment wherein I whined about wanting to marry Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi. Jerks!!! This game drives me CRAZY, but in a good, aspirational way.
The writing style is exceptionally beautiful, the branching and variations are vast and superb.
Link: https://store.steampowered.com/app/632470/Disco_Elysium__The_Final_Cut/
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And some additional shout-outs to these interactive fiction games that can be played right in your browser:
VAMPIRE LTD: Ok you need to listen to me please this is truly shocking, I AM LITERALLY THE ONLY PERSON WHO HAS EVER PLAYED AND RATED THIS GAME??? BUT IT'S AMAZING?? Please go play it now. The writing is amazing. It is exceptionally charming and so funny, my absolute ideal sense of humor. You play as a modern vampire and you're trying to get a job at a rival vampire's company so you can sabotage him from within. You can immediately die at the start of the game by closing your umbrella and burning yourself in the sunlight.
It's a free game that doesn't even cost anything and it came out in February, how am I still the only person who has played this omg? :( You guys. Please play it, leave a rating and a nice comment, I adore it deeply. It is a text parser, so you'll have to get used to typing in commands like "go north," "take blood bag," "bite receptionist," but it really is not difficult.
Link: https://comfortcastle.itch.io/vampire-ltd
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TAVERN CRAWLER: A very charming fantasy RPG, Discworld-esque: funny but with an enormous amount of heart and meaningful choices. The side characters are all fun, and you can date both love interests at the same time. You can be POLY! And you can drink in bars to increase your stats. What's not to love?
Premise: You get hired to kill a dragon. Problem: You were shit-faced drunk when you got the job and ddooon't totally remember where to go to get your reward.
Link: https://cogsandspanners.itch.io/tavern-crawler
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THE PASSENGER: @the-passenger-if (... Ok so this one isn't exactly done yet, but the creator issss almost done? Actively working on the last chapters and such?)
This is a very special mention because despite being a WIP, the writing is vivid, gorgeous, and has been wildly inspirational for me. It's a 90's eldritch horror story (you play as the horror! :D), and it's... fun. It's so much fun. You can play truth or dare and then dare one of your love interests to take their pants off in the car. And they do it, they take their dang pants off and you get this whole description of their raggedy underwear. Do I need to sell it harder? I don't know what to say. This was the game that got me interested in giving the player an in-game option to be trans, because I'd never seen it as an option anywhere else before.
Link: https://dashingdon.com/play/pime/the-passenger/mygame/
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So yeah, these are my inspirations!! Other than The Passenger at the very end, these games are ALL 100% RELEASED/COMPLETED and ready to be enjoyed in full. And a lot of them are FREE. $0.00! FREE!! You still ought to throw some dimes in if you can afford it, but if not -- free. $0.00. Free.
I hope you guys give them a shot if you have not played them already, because I find them all truly magnificent.
And even if you don't have time to play them at the moment, please give them a boost! Reblog!!! Who cares if you have zero followers or if it will interrupt your aesthetic posts, reblog anyway!!! These are ALL lovingly and painstakingly made by small creators and I must reiterate I AM THE ONLY PERSON IN THE WORLD WHO HAS PLAYED AND RATED VAMPIRE LTD ON ITCH.IO AND I CANNOT STAND FOR THIS. Jiminy criminy y'all please at least go play Vampire LTD, I am begging you.
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izusun · 3 years
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*hands you an AU dump to hoard like a little goblin handing a small coin to a dragon*
OKAY so basically: after the doctor's visit where Izuku learns he's quirkless (I hc that they went when he was about five n' a half), Inko does a little bit of research on quirks and more specifically on her son's notebooks, learns that he's even more brilliant at quirk analysis than she originally suspected, and (after looking at some not great quirkless statistics) she instead informs Izuku that no, he's had a quirk all along! It's an analysis quirk!
So she updates the quirk registry, and Izuku goes through his life believing he has an analysis quirk, albeit teased for being a late bloomer, but he still can't shake the insecurity being quirkless for that one and a half year gave him.
He does research on all sorts of things, hacking, knife throwing, first aid, and building his own support gear and takes to all of it like a duck to water. He also does research on UA's policy for support gear in the entrance exam (cause surely they've gotta have a policy for non-offensive quirks like Koda and Hagakure) and finds that he can take one with him if he builds it himself. He goes fuckin bonkers.
Anyways: he trains with Katsuki, cause they're relationship is pretty good since Izuku has a 'quirk.' They both demolish the entrance exam. (Also Izuku kinda swears a lot because Katsuki rubs off on him)
Aizawa doesn't notice a goddamn thing is amiss until the battle trials on the second day (he decides to shadow All Might that day), where when he was using his quirk to silence his students while Izuku was rambling, he just didn't stop, as if he didn't notice anything was wrong. It happens again during the USJ.
So at some point during the sports festival, Nedzu (who is now intrigued because of Aizawa's complaining) invites Izuku into his office during a free period and lets him go ham on analysis, all while Aizawa is secretly there erasing Izuku's 'quirk.' Nedzu invites Izuku to be his personal student (making Aizawa go grey), he says yes, and then Nedzu drops the absolute BOMBSHELL that Izuku is actually quirkless. Cue an existential crisis.
(Also Izuku gets captured at the training camp alongside Katsuki because of his "analysis quirk," wonder how well that goes for him~)
- Goblin anon (sorry this one was kinda long)
GOBLIN?? DUDE???? HOLY SHIT I KNEW YOUR AUS ARE ALWAYS PHENOMENAL BUT THIS RIGHT HERE??? D U D E
i misunderstood the prompt a bit but i genuinely don’t know how to backtrack, so here you go goblin. sorry again o(TヘTo)
ok first of, inko taking on a stronger stance to support her son? love that of her. like, she doesn’t say sorry when izuku turned to look at her and cried that he can’t be like all might. instead, she took him in her arms and assures him that he will be a great hero. at first, of course half of it is lip service because she doesn’t know how to help her quirkless boy be a hero, since, you know, heroes need quirks.. (or do they)
and then she comes across a quirkless self help group which rang many many warning bells in her head. what kind of life do quirkless people live when a google research of them resulted in subsequent pages of results like how to stay safe when quirkless, or how to find jobs when quirkless, or quirkless mortality rates?
she fears for izuku, until she notices that her son’s smart. too smart for his age, but inko thought she’s just being biased. but izuku’s wit is something many people notice, for an instance, when izuku goes to the park to play and his friends’ (the few ones who stayed) parents tell her that her son’s smart for a quirkless person, she realizes that izuku’s wit is far more vast than normal.
then a thought worms into her head but wouldn’t it be bad to lie…but also, no one would be any the wiser.
further pushed by all the statistics she keeps seeing, or the lack thereof, about quirkless people, she makes the decision and pours it to izuku.
izuku who’s far smarter than his age and understood what his mom is asking from him. izuku who already saw the disparities between quirked and quirkless people at the tender age of five. izuku who knows what it means to lie about something as personal as a quirk, but realizes that it’s necessary for him to do so if he wants to live a “normal” life.
so he agrees; he tells inko that he’ll work even harder to sharpen his mind, and to keep expanding his knowledge.
when izuku’s quirk file is officially updated, he watches how his peers and teachers revert back into treating him as izuku. he regains his old friends, but he chose to drop them because he doesn’t want to surround himself with people who thought he was less for being quirkless.
katsuki stayed, surprisingly. katsuki stayed and everyday he kept bothering izuku to “get your quirk already!” katsuki stayed because he can’t fathom that the smartest boy in their class (of course not as smart as him, psshh) is quirkless. deku couldn’t be quirkless. (but if he found out that izuku, indeed, is, i wonder what would happen…)
katsuki was one of the loudest to celebrate when izuku announced that his quirk arrived.
“finally!” he screams and bothers izuku about the semantics of his quirk. he really wasn’t surprised to find out that izuku has an analysis quirk because he thought that nothing else would better be suited for izuku.
he doesn’t know that izuku pours so much of his time into learning and studying, often bypassing basics and intros to take more of the developed courses that are usually recommended for older ages. he doesn’t know that izuku is just a naturally smart kid with the ability to fill the gaps of his young mind with knowledge upon knowledge, storing and stacking them until he feels that he’s laid a sturdy foundation for his fake quirk.
then izuku began threading into different areas. he learns how to get into cyberspaces; hacking into accounts and delving more into how to access private information. he doesn’t thread too close lest he gets caught, but he learns the logistics of maneuvering around the web and burrowing in empty spaces to branch out his own. he creates and designs web algorithms for himself, just so he doesn’t trigger anyone who is looking into the web movements. he hones this and uses it to access more information.
then when he deems it enough, he turns his attention to something more tangible and something more physical. he learns other ways to be a hero; how to fight without a physical quirk, how to win against bigger opponents, how to use analysis quirk in fights.
izuku becomes more than a fake analysis quirk user; he creates it.
mental quirks are hard to describe, more so to compress, thus he creates new definitions of an analysis quirk. what used to be a silly lie is now a tangible fact that izuku believes in. because what makes a quirk? because what makes analysis a quirk? he learns these semantics (often political) and uses it to his advantage.
then he finally threads to hero analysis. at first it were classmates he analyzed; eyes running quickly at their forms and watching with great interest before calculating everything he’s seen and transversing it with the things he learned, and bridges these two facts together to create an analysis. it was a struggle at first: he didn’t know which to put emphasis on until he realizes, he doesn’t need to. he weaves them together and lets his analysis run long and watches how his hobby comes into fruition.
following his classmates are current heroes. these were more tough and more fun, and any of the information is less shared. he doesn’t tell his classmates or teachers about his analyses, only katsuki. and katsuki’s breath hitch every damn time at izuku’s talent quirk.
it is in their second year of middle school that midoriya begins to incorporate the facts with himself to create physical performances. the issues and things he learned through observing are now practiced by himself. he calculates the best way to fight with a body as petite as his, often taking examples from pro-hero hawks and other women heroes. their agilities and physicality suit izuku’s young body; he doesn’t see the merit in punching his way through things when he physically cannot.
so he learns ways to ease his muscles. he learns ballet and gymnastics; lets his muscles contort and mend themselves anew. he finds his balance and roots himself firmly, and learns to calculate his actions so he doesn’t waste his energy. katsuki doesn’t say anything, but he sees izuku’s dance and falls in love.
then in the spring of their third year of middle school, izuku learns how to build and handle weapons.
this is the easiest. izuku learns that weapons aren’t tools, but extensions of his arms and hands. they are not to be revered and not to be depended on because they can fail. instead, he learns to wield weapons as though they are parts of his bodies. he learns how to use swords and often narrowing to wooden sticks that can be picked up anywhere; he learns how to fire guns and how to hide daggers in his uniform. he learns that his body is the best weapon to use and that tools are just arsenal to help him win.
then he learns how to build them.
by summer, izuku begins reaching into UA’s servers. they are hard codes to crack, but not impossible. it takes him five days to access old entrance exam videos. the next day, the videos are snuffed and he is left to try digging deeper into UA.
he fails.
nezu must have caught onto his codes and proceeded to build walls against it.
so he slithers out. but a five minute video of last year’s entrance exam is enough for izuku because he learns two things: one, heroes must defeat villains and two, heroes must save others.
izuku prepares for this. unknowingly, katsuki is taught these same principles. katsuki would grumble and tell him that he knows what heroes must do, but izuku continues to hammer it down to him.
by the time of the UA entrance exam, izuku falls into the ease of having a fake quirk. he passes the written exam with flying colours and although it took three teachers to approve his support gears (present mic had to pull in powerloader, midnight, and hound dog to ensure that the well designed support gears are made by the hero student examinee and not by a support student examinee. majima saw the works and begged nezu to allow izuku to be his student.), izuku still succeeds and dominates the entrance exam.
when the zero pointer was released, he had flung himself towards the girl crushed by debris and yanks her out. he doesn’t waste a modified grenade to explode the zero pointer because through his calculations, doing so would not only create more collateral damage, but would also endanger the examinee in his arms because she still would be caught in the crossfire.
nezu hums in appreciation from the screening room, after all, smart minds always do think alike.
izuku gets a whopping 92 in the physical aspects of the entrance exam.
katsuki gets 85.
aizawa gleefully takes them in.
izuku thinks that no one will ever know of his and inko’s secret, but one look at nezu’s beady eyes and he knew that the stoat knew. it became a game to them, then. a game to see who else would realize.
and while izuku is smart, he doesn’t realize that nezu has basically taken him as his personal student the moment he and izuku had created a bet.
it takes two months for aizawa to figure things out. surprisingly, he is the only one to do so and he only realizes due to the many untimely attacks of LoV.
——
how angst would it be if katsuki realizes that izuku’s always been quirkless during their captivity in the LoV’s hideout.
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miracle-sham · 5 years
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Instead of Dead, Become Two Dragons in Red.
| {MaribatMarch2020 — Week 1, Day 5: Transformation} |
| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] |
| {Repost due to original post disappearing from the tags.} |
| Triggers/Warnings: Violence/Implied Violence, Animal Transformation, Explicit Language/Some Swearing, Implied/Referenced Character Death (but not really), Polyamory (not really a trigger/warning but if you don't like Polyamory then this isn't for you). |
| For Gotham vigilantes, rampaging magic-users always make for an interesting fight, that is of course, provided one doesn't get hit by any stray bolts of magic. However for Parisian heroes, it's just your typical Tuesday Akuma situation. |
| Word Count: 3232 |
==‹›==
| A/N: Hi! I'm not dead, sorry for how long I took to respond to comments, I got hit by a nasty cold then sinusitis so I lost basically all my Maribat March prep time thanks to that, so I just barely managed to finish this ficlet/oneshot for today, anyway I hope you guys enjoy, and if enough people enjoy it, I'll make a second part to this oneshot because I had to cut so much material and it'd be nice to be able to use it still. |
| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then comment or send me a DM/ask! |
| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |
==‹›==
Zzzzt-crackle-woosh, a purplish-black bolt of unstable magic flies through the air, just barely grazing passed Dragonbug's side as she flips across the gap between two buildings. Cheerfully, she calls out “Missed again!”
The villain, an amorphous black shadow with dripping molten gold eyes and donning a ruddy patchwork hooded robe (which suffice to say, looks suspiciously like a rip-off wizzrobe from the Legend of Zelda, that or a faceless Gregorian based cultist extra from a film or TV show), scowls furiously, “Oh fuck you! I'm trying my best here!” and blasts another bolt of purplish-black magic towards her.
Conveniently located on the roof she just landed on, is an air vent. She cartwheels behind it and manages to dodge the bolt by a good metre or so. “Well, your best sucks and so does your aim!”
The wizard-villain screeches in fury, “Well my aim wouldn't suck if you didn't keep moving like a goddamn Duracell bunny!”
Dragonbug snorts. “Yeah but firstly, I'm dragon and ladybird themed, not bunny-themed; the bunny theme's already taken anyway. And secondly, where's the fun in that?”
As soon as she says that, her earpiece crackles as Red Robin pipes up on the comms channel. “Ready to see some fireworks?”
“Oh, you bet!” She responds, all too gleefully.
There's a faint clink-woosh-woosh-woosh and out of the corner of her eye, Dragonbug sees a blur of a small round silver ball arcing through the air towards the wizard-villain who's quite stupidly standing in the same place. As the silver ball disappears from her view, she hears a clatter of clink-clink-clink followed by a bwoosh and a bright flash of white light. At this moment, Dragonbug is so glad the Miraculous suits protect against flashbangs of all things.
The wizard-villain screams and once the flash of light fades, Dragonbug can see that they've fallen to their knees, in the middle of the street.
Dragonbug frowns and eyes their form, then double-taps her comms. “Hey, is it me or does our rip-off wizzrobe-magic-cultist look somewhat unresponsive?”
Her earpiece crackles again as Red Robin answers, and really someone should give these things a maintenance check, the crackling can be so distracting. “Our wizzrobe-magic-cultist is looking pretty unresponsive to me too. It could be a trap though because I swear I didn't use one of my knockout flashbangs.”
She nods, despite the fact he can't see her; which upon realising this, she flushes red in embarrassment. After clearing her throat to compose herself, she tilts her head to the side. “That's concerning, unless our rip-off wizzrobe-magic-cultist is susceptible to flashes of light.” She pauses, frown deepening, “You don't think they've got epilepsy do you?”
There's a slight rustle before Red Robin responds, “No, that's not what an epileptic seizure looks like. Again this could be a trap, or they could just be stunned. Either way, we should hurry but be careful.”
“Right.” Dragonbug scurries over to the edge of the roof then flips her way down to the ground. As she lands, she just spots Red Robin vaulting across an overturned car. As he catches sight of her, she gives him a thumbs up, which he returns.
Dragonbug then nods to him and he nods back, silently communicating their plan. They both start to slowly approach the wizard-villain in a pincer movement, her to the left and him to the right.
Red Robin reaches to his bandoliers and whips out a pair of manacles. He skulks behind the wizard-villain and goes to handcuff when the wizard-villain starts cackling maniacally. The laughter is quickly followed by a forming orb of purplish-black light—the same light as the magic bolts.
Oh, fuck! Is Dragonbug's only thought as she immediately dives at Red Robin, who's started backing away; she uses herself to try and block him from the still-forming orb. Please let the Miraculous magic protect us both! She silently begs as the orb expands exponentially, unfortunately enveloping them both completely in a fraction of a second
The maniacal laughter is the last thing they both hear as they're violently launched backwards into an alleyway, and everything fades to black.
==‹›==
Kagami's lounging on the sofa at Tim's Nest and binging Netflix, when the red alert rings across all the comms units.
“Shit,” Oracle falters, “Red Robin and Dragonbug are down. Dragonbug's signature has disappeared from our systems and her comms aren't responding. All Red Robin's vitals are down, his suit isn't registering any more signs of life. But I'm still getting warnings that the villain they were fighting is still active, so everyone available needs to converge on Red Robin and Dragonbug's last known location.”
Fear immediately seizes Kagami's heart, no please, please don't be dead my loves. She double-taps her comms. “I'm suiting up as Kuro Neko, I'll be at the location in three.”
With that said, Kagami flings herself off the sofa. She glances around the room for Plagg who's halted in his eating of cheese and giving her a sad but cryptic look. Her eyes flicker to the window and he nods almost imperceptibly.
“Plagg, claws on.” There's a woosh as the poisonous green light washes over her, donning her in the Kuro Neko suit. She flexes her claws for a split second, tail whipping back and forth furiously, before darting over to the window and vaulting out of it.
As soon as she's out the window, Kuro Neko extends her baton down and begins pole-vaulting her way across the rooftops and over towards where her significant others were last.
==‹›==
When Dragonbug returns to consciousness, the first thing she notices is that she can't move, nor see, nor hear. But she can feel, and unfortunately that means she feels a strange painful pulsing throughout her entire body, as well as an excruciating aching sensation. The second thing she notices is that she's curled up on the ground and her head, or the world, is spinning somewhat. Anyway, I can safely say I'm not doing so good right about now, big ouch.
The first of her other senses to return is her hearing. Which immediately makes her hiss in pain from the sudden cacophony seemingly coming from somewhere above her? She pauses, then realises that something's not quite right, hey wait a minute, why'd my hiss sound so weird? Something's not right, although I suppose that's kinda obvious now, but still! Oh god, what if I'm dying, or I've been body switched, or—or—or—
Her thoughts are interrupted by a sudden scream of fury, ringing out from above. Which is good because it means Dragonbug doesn't get time to dwell on that particular string of anxious thoughts, but it's also bad because it's loud and causes her to whimper in pain from how loud it is.
“Where the fuck are they? What the fuck did you do to them?” A voice sounding very similar to Kagami yells out.
Wait a second, that doesn't make sense, Red Robin and I didn't call for backup, so why would Kagami suit up on her night off? Dragonbug muses to herself, brain immediately latching onto the next train of thoughts. As she muses, she slowly realises that she's starting to regain the feeling in her limbs. Which is another positive? However, the feel of said limbs, causes her mind to immediately blank and lose the train of thought. While her brain tries to figuratively perform an error message, she does finally manage to crack open her eyes, yay sight.
It's at that moment, Dragonbug's superhero experience/training kicks in. She quickly takes stock of her surroundings and quietly thinks to herself, oh fuck.
It looks like she's in a giant—no massive—version of Red Robin's suit. Have I been shrunk? She wonders for only a brief second as something moves, just out of the area of her view. She turns and squints at the movement. Not a second later, a roughly cat-sized red lizard shuffled into sight.
She squeaks in surprise, then has a minute of wait what because her squeak sounded weird and very concerningly not-human-like.
The red lizard tilts its head to the side and coos at her.
Dragonbug glares at the lizard and tries to back away. Emphasis on tries, because as she does so, she ends up tripping over herself? Confused and extremely concerned now, she glances down and oh.
What. The. Heckles. She slowly spins around, checking out her new form, because she's clearly no longer human. No, she's got a snout, scales, fur—well mane—, claws, a long snakelike body, and a tail. Spinning around, she catches sight of a gleaming piece of shiny silver metal. So does what anyone would in the same situation as her, and scuttles over to it to use it as a makeshift mirror.
The reflection that greets her is… frankly quite adorable but also she's now a tiny little lung/long dragon. Which to be fair, makes quite a bit of sense as she was using the dragon Miraculous and Longg is a lung dragon. Her scales are a pretty red with shimmery golden accents and her mane is a dark red-almost-black colour. Her eyes still have the golden yellow iris and sclera that the dragon Miraculous gives. And the rest of her is all done variation of the gold, brighter red, and darker red. So at least her colour palette doesn't clash. Okay, so the colour palette isn't the most pressing issue here, but also I don't know how to fix this or change back so y'know, I'd rather potentially be stuck like this permanently with a nice colour palette, than one that clashes. But also oh god please don't let this be permanent, there has to be a way to undo this!
In her panic, Marinette doesn't notice the red lizard slinking closer to her. As it reaches her, it gently prods her with one claw; startling her badly and causing her to squeak again, loudly.
The red lizard flinches back and Marinette realises that maybe, just maybe, that's not a random lizard. And that maybe the not-a-random-lizard is actually a drake. A European dragon that hasn't got wings. And Tim. Tim's surname is Drake. A coincidence? I think not! It's got to be Tim!
She stares at the probably-Tim dragon and makes a chirping noise because dragons don't have the same vocal cords as humans, so she can't exactly ask him if that's him or not. A minor nuisance, to say the least.
The red drake mimics her chirp. Then cautiously slinks up to her again.
This close, Marinette can see that she's probably around the size of a ferret, in comparison to him being roughly the same size as a cat.
He flops down half beside, half against her and makes a series of clicks and chirps. She can't help but to tense as he flops but as the seconds pass, she finds herself relaxing bit by bit until she's also flopped over.
Enjoying the peaceful impromptu not-quite-a-cuddle cuddle session with one of her significant others, Marinette does try to keep an ear out for any goings-on above, just in case. But all seems well.
That is until, not even three seconds later, the peacefulness is abruptly shattered by a cacophony of screams, yells, zaps, and loud bangs echoing shrilly from above, before ceasing just as abruptly as it started.
However, the unexpected cacophony still manages to cause Marinette to panic. She tenses with a low whine, hunching slightly, and holds her breath. Alert and anxiously vigilant, she can't help but survey the immediate vicinity again and again and again—looking for anything she missed initially or if anything's changed.
Tim shuffles and stumbles into a sitting position. He nudges her gently in the side of the neck with his snout. He makes a cooing noise, followed by a soft rumble—as if he were trying to imitate a cat's purr.
It takes a few seconds, but his actions start to help calm her down. She takes in a deep breath and mentally reassesses the situation. We've been turned into tiny dragons. We're inside-slash-underneath the Red Robin suit which is on the ground. Before we woke up like this, we were battling a magic-user villain who tricked us. We didn't get time to call in backup before we got hit but it sounds like backup arrived anyway. As far as we know, no one is aware of what happened to us or that we're in-slash-under the suit. We are currently safe for now.
As Marinette reaches the end of the reassessment, she feels much calmer. She makes a low trill-like-purr noise to signal to Tim that she's calmed down.
He sticks his tongue out in a blep and mimics the low trill.
Their second moment of calm is then also interrupted because apparently fate hates peace and calmness or something like that.
“I will ask you once more, Where. Are. They?” Kuro Neko questions.
There's a loud thump-snap, followed by the wheezing cackle of the Wizard-villain. “They're gone! Dead! Erased! Exterminated!” With its piece said, the wizard-villain continues to wheeze and cackle maniacally.
Marinette can't help but shiver in fear at the sound, barely able to squash the rising nausea.
A harsh snap sound echoes loudly in the street and the wizard-villain starts choking wetly.
Kuro Neko hisses something but the red robin suit muffles the words to the point of being indistinguishable.
The minutes drag by and the only sounds of note from above, are inaudible mutterings and the clattering of handcuffs and car doors. They must've handed the wizard-villain over to the police, Marinette thinks.
She's about to go nudge Tim to try and communicate that they probably need to go find somewhere to stash his suit and a place for them to hide until they can figure out how to turn back when a conversation between the vigilantes who arrived for backup catches her attention. Partly because of the topic, and partly because of how close the voices suddenly sound.
“They can't be dead, Red Robin's suit is still there.” Dick—or well more like Nightwing, since he probably arrived as backup as well—stresses.
“But Dragonbug an' her suit's gone. You'd think maybe that there'd be a little more left if just organic matter was destroyed.” Jas—Red Hood mutters, the vocal distorter in his helmet making his tone of voice sound strange.
Or maybe that's just a side effect of getting tiny-dragon-ified, thinks Marinette, things sounding stranger. Although I've not really noticed anything bar the distorted voice sounding weird.
“The Miraculous suits are made of magic, and anyway, Plagg says he can't feel Tikki or Longg's presence anywhere,” Kuro Neko admits, reluctantly. “If all living things in the vicinity of the orb were destroyed, then the Miraculous would have still been left behind.”
“And how d'you know that?” Red Hood asks, sounding both genuinely curious and mildly concerned.
There's a split second of almost icy silence before Kuro Neko responds with a clipped tone. “Akuma.”
“Ah, o'course.” Red Hood comments, voice getting closer again. “Hey, d'you think B will want to stick the Red Robin suit in a memorial case like what he did with my Robin suit?”
“Hood!” Nightwing exclaims in a horrified and almost scandalised tone of voice.
Red Hood snorts.
Marinette flinches, and so does Tim beside her, although probably not for the same reasons as her. I don't think I'll ever get used to how flippantly Red Hood jokes about his death. Even if most Parisians who've died in Akuma attacks use the same sort of gallows humour.
There's a few seconds of silence before someone grabs the Red Robin suit and yanks it upwards, causing Tim and Marinette to tumble out of it with a series of startled squeaks and clicks.
Red Hood is the first to respond to the situation, with an eloquent, “what the fuck.”
Marinette glances up and sees Kuro Neko holding the Red Robin suit and looking rather shell shocked, with Red Hood and Nightwing a few steps away.
“Oh, thank fuck they're alive.” Nightwing half mumbles, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation.
“My loves,” Kuro Neko murmurs leaning down and scooping up Marinette and Tim, “I'm so glad you're okay.”
They both squirm for a minute before relaxing into her arms.
Nightwing frowns. “We should bring them back to the cave, maybe call Zatanna and Wonder Woman.”
“To the cave then.” Kuro Neko nods, hugging Marinette and Tim carefully, making sure not to accidentally hurt or squish them.
Marinette looks up at her significant other and bleps. She then trills, content to be held for the journey back to the Batcave.
Tim however, wrinkles his nose and chirrups in protest, he squirms and tries to escape Kuro Neko's hold—probably wanting to return to the Nest and deal with this on his own instead.
Kuro Neko gives Tim a deadpan stare before expertly pinching the correct pressure point to temporarily paralyse him.
Red Hood gives her a quizzical stare.
“Akuma, as well as kwami.” She responds, sagely.
“Right…” He slowly mutters, shaking his head.
Marinette can't help but burst into laughter at that, only because she's currently a ferret-sized lung dragon, the laughter comes out as a stream of trills and chirps.
Red Hood narrows his eyes at Marinette. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, danger noodle.”
Marinette pouts, whilst internally promising herself that revenge will be swift and pasta themed.
==‹›==
When they finally arrive back at the Batcave. They're greeted by the sight of Batman and Robin at the Batcomputer.
Robin turns and sneers at them. “Of course, trust Drake to pull such an attention-grabbing stunt as this.”
Marinette immediately looks up from her snuggled up position in Kuro Nell's arms and hisses at Robin; Tim however, lets out a world-weary sigh.
“Robin.” Barks Batman, but the reprimand does nothing to quell Robin's hostility.
Fixing a glare at Robin, Kuro Neko starts to stroke Marinette's scales like an evil villain would stroke a cat (much to Marinette's delight). “Need I remind you, how you hesitated upon hearing Oracle inform us that Red Robin's suit ceased reading any signs of life.”
“That was not hesitation! I was merely preparing for Grayson or Fatgirl to become hysterical in their distress.” Retorts Robin, who then stalks away, scowling and red-faced.
Nightwing dithers between going after him or staying to check on Tim and Marinette.
Kuro Neko shakes her head. “Go after him, Marinette and Tim will be fine without you hovering like a mother hen.”
Nightwing flashes her a grateful smile and scampers after Robin.
Kuro Neko then heads over to the medical bay and gently plonks the two dragons onto a cot. “Batman, I believe we will need to do as Nightwing suggested earlier, and call Zatanna and Wonder Woman. As this is a magic situation and I am not as skilled or knowledgeable in regards to magic as my love is.”
“Hhrrm,” Batman growls, already calling up the Watchtower.
Kuro Neko smiles softly as she glances down at her significant others, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Let's hope they arrive soon, otherwise who knows what sort of trouble you two could get into.” She winks.
Marinette chirps, tail flicking side to side eagerly. Whilst Tim perks up slightly and tilts his head to the side, mind probably racing with hundreds of pranks and shenanigans they could pull off whilst in dragon form.
==‹›==
| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |
| @maribat-march2020 | | @vixen-uchiha |
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ryukoishida · 6 years
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Quan Zhi Gao Shou | The King’s Avatar Fic: In which WZ is a white snake spirit/bodyguard and ST is a sword spirit who suffers.
Title: Counter Spark Fandom: The King’s Avatar / Quan Zhi Gao Shou Character(s)/Pairing(s): YuHuang, Su Mucheng Summary: Atavists were beings whose veins ancestral blood ran through, allowing them to transform into their powerful spiritual forms. To protect them, Secret Service agents with similar powers were hired to remain loyal by their side. Huang Shaotian learned to protect himself with false smiles and high walls, but when he met his assigned SS agent Yu Wenzhou, a man with the blood of a white snake spirit, his resolve to stay away from others began to crumble. [Secret service/bodyguard AU] Part: 1/4 of “Two Way Monologue” series Rating: T A/N: It’s basically an “Inu X Boku SS” AU, to be honest. Have fun reading this mess!
Writing Commission | Editing & Translation Services
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Two Way Monologue, parts:
i. Counter Spark (YuHuang) ii. The Magic of Us (WangYe) iii. Ghost Notes (GaoQiao) iv. Fire Bird & Electric Lady (ChengChu)
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i. Counter Spark
“I can’t believe your family is actually allowing you to move out on your own,” Su Mucheng laughed as she gracefully folded herself into the couch, crossing her legs and glancing up at her childhood acquaintance as she accepted the cup of tea offered by the new occupant of Unit 14 of Glory Complex.
“What the hell are they gonna do about it?” Huang Shaotian scoffed, throwing himself into the adjacent couch uncouthly by comparison, and continued in an irritated tone as he glared daggers into his own glass of water, “I’m an adult already; I don’t need their permission to do anything. It’s high time I get out of that shit hole.”
“You say that,” Su Mucheng took a sip of her tea before placing it delicately back on the saucer, her glossed lips twitching up into a small, knowing smile, “but I bet your parents threw a fit, huh?”
The prestigious Huang family was regarded as one of the most influential Atavist clans in China — politically- and financially-speaking — and as the only son who inherited the divine powers of the legendary sword spirit Ice Rain, Huang Shaotian had always been surrounded by walls upon walls of protection in case other clans were planning against them. Adults of other smaller clans boasted and praised his talents, though they were also secretly envious of his powers, while peers of Atavistic origins or normal humans tended to either avoid him or crowded around him with special treatment because of his family background.
Huang Shaotian had learned to deal with the burden of being a prominent Atavist. When he was young, he didn’t know any better, and would display his emotions openly before others: the bitter sneering when he heard others talking shit behind his back, the angry, disappointed tears when he realized that those who were willing to befriend him were only doing so in order to gain something from him and his family.  
“They’re never satisfied with what I do,” Huang Shaotian concluded with a huff, crossing his arms, “so I might as well just stop being an eyesore and get the hell out while I still can.”
Su Mucheng had known him since they were young; their families had been neighbors for years, and they would visit each other’s houses on many occasions. She couldn’t say she entirely understood what Huang Shaotian had went through in his own household all these years, but she could take an educated guess from how isolated he was kept by his own parents and the other caretakers in the mansion, and how much of himself he eventually learned to hide from others.
She gave him a soft, sympathetic smile and left it at that.
“Have you met the other residents yet?” Su Mucheng asked, attempting to carefully change the topic to something more cheerful.
“Listen, I’m not here to make friends, all right? The point I’m trying to make by insisting on moving out on my own is to show my folks that it’s not that big of a fucking deal, that I don’t need to be protected like I’m some sort of fragile, little flower, and I’ve had had enough of them controlling me like I’m a goddamn puppet, existing just for their own greedy objectives,” Huang Shaotian said, the irritation in his voice starting up again at the thought of his overly-dominant parents. “And who cares about the other residents? They’re all Atavists like you and me, right? At most, after they’ve heard of who I am, they’d try to get on my good side in the hopes of getting something in return. I know how it works; this had always been the case no matter where I go, and I’m fucking sick of this bullshit.”
In the past, Huang Shaotian would have happily accepted any forms of interaction with others — it was less troublesome that way. He’d learned to put on a bright, pleasant smile because that was what his parents wanted him to do, but now that he was finally out of his family’s shadow, he had more freedom over how he’d deal with these sorts of wearisome interactions.  
Su Mucheng was about to open her mouth to defend her housemates, but Huang Shaotian was faster, and for once, his tone had softened into an almost remorseful tenor at his next question, his topaz eyes lowered to stare at his lap instead.
“Anyway, how are you holding up?”
This sudden change of direction didn’t throw either of them off; they both knew what Huang Shaotian was referring to.
“What do you mean? I’m doing well!” Su Mucheng exclaimed with a little too much enthusiasm that even she wasn’t convinced. “Even better now that you’re here!”
A brief moment of hesitation, and then Huang Shaotian said, glancing up at Su Mucheng with an apologetic light to his eyes, “I’m sorry I couldn’t attend your brother’s funeral.”
Su Mucheng sighed softly, placing a gentle hand over Huang Shaotian’s shoulder, and said, “Hey, don’t worry about it, okay? It’s the thought that counts. I’m sure Brother appreciated it all the same.”
Su Muqiu hadn’t been a close friend of his — there weren’t many people in his circle Huang Shaotian would dare call his close friends — but he had been a respectable Atavist, a doting elder brother, and an agreeable acquaintance; and those qualities, if nothing else, were enough for Huang Shaotian to feel a sense of loss when he’d heard the news. After all, he knew how important Su Muqiu was to the young woman sitting beside him right now. He was the only family Su Mucheng had after the great war that took place almost two decades ago.
As if the thought had just come up to him, Huang Shaotian suddenly asked, “Where’s Lao Ye anyway? I’d have thought that he’d be under you now that Muqiu had… passed away.” Huang Shaotian was uncomfortable at the topic of Su Muqiu’s death, but it was unavoidable at this point, so he tried to use the most respectful tone, “you two were like siblings, too, weren’t you?”  
“Ah… Ye Xiu, he’s working for someone else now,” Su Mucheng replied with an uneasy chuckle, her hand only shaking slightly when she lifted her cup up to her lips to take another sip of the lukewarm tea. She winced at the bitter aftertaste.
“You fucking serious? After what had happened, Lao Ye just broke the contract and left you on your own?” Huang Shaotian’s eyes widened in disbelief, the anger surfacing up once more like furious, towering waves of a stormy ocean.  
“He didn’t leave me,” Su Mucheng immediately protested in emphasis, and in a smaller voice, she said with her head lowered, “I was the one who nulled our contract.”
“Why the hell did you do that?”
The Su siblings were two of the few people Huang Shaotian was familiar with, and so of course he knew of their family’s circumstances, though some parts of it remained a mystery to this day. He knew that the siblings were orphaned from a young age due to the great war, yet as to how Ye Xiu became their shared Secret Service agent, serving the brother and sister known to the Atavist community as “Feng Huang” — the two majestic, five-coloured birds that ruled over other bird species in Chinese legends, their status and importance equal to that of the dragons — nobody had yet figured out how that had come to be.
All Huang Shaotian was aware of was that Ye Xiu was an important figure in the Su siblings’ lives; as far as Huang Shaotian was concerned, Ye Xiu — with the blood of the green dragon spirit running through his veins — had always been by Su Muqiu and Su Mucheng’s sides, protecting them as the two’s guardian, but more than that, playing the role of a genuine friend and brother-figure throughout the siblings’ difficult lives.
“He and Brother had been really close — you know that, right?” Su Mucheng recalled their childhood days, and the flash of pain reflected in her eyes, in the firm line of her lips, made Huang Shaotian regret bringing up this topic at all, “and he blamed himself for what happened, even though there was nothing he could have done. I couldn’t stand seeing him like that, and I knew that his guilt and sense of duty was only making it impossible for him to leave on his own, so… so I made the decision and forced him to leave.”
Ye Xiu was like another older brother for her, and she wanted what was best for him, too. Tying him down to a place that would only allow unfounded remorse to eat him alive because of something as rigid and impassive as a contract would have been too cruel, and so, despite the excruciating agony that clawed deep within her chest after she’d made that decision, Su Mucheng did what she had set out to do.
If it weren’t for the fateful encounter with Chu Yunxiu soon after the tragedy, Su Mucheng wasn’t certain if she would still be able to be where she was right now.
“It wasn’t easy to let him go, but I couldn’t depend on him forever either,” Su Mucheng smiled at the other man, “and hey, everything turns out pretty okay in the end, I think.”
“The little miss is all grown up now, huh,” Huang Shaotian grinned, running a hand over the woman’s hair to playfully mess it up, which Su Mucheng didn’t appreciate as she dodged skillfully off to the side and stuck her tongue out at him in a childish gesture.
“I totally take that back,” Huang Shaotian cackled.
“Come on, stop being such a loner and let’s get out of this room,” Su Mucheng pulled Huang Shaotian off the couch with a grunt and a surprisingly strong grip for a woman of her height, “I’ll introduce you to the other residents of the complex. It’ll be fun, I promise!”
“Uh-huh,” Huang Shaotian rolled his eyes even as he allowed himself to be pulled out of the door of his chamber.
“It’s about dinner time now, so most of them should be in the dining hall,” Su Mucheng was telling Huang Shaotian as they entered, only to be met with an almost empty room.
Two teenagers sat at the far corner, and one man with shaggy bangs falling over one eye was sitting on the other end, quietly concentrating on his own dinner while reading.
“Wow, what a party,” Huang Shaotian sniggered, and Su Mucheng slapped his arm in retort.
“Mu-jie,” one of the young men sitting by the corner greeted them with a small wave of acknowledgement and a shy smile. The teenager, a high school student, it seemed, as he still donned a set of uniform in navy blue and grey, had kind-looking eyes, and when Huang Shaotian glanced over at him, he instantly nodded a quick and formal greeting at the stranger.
“Xiao Jie, and Yifan, you two just got off from school? Pretty late for you guys, isn’t it?” Su Mucheng wandered over to the table where the two young men were sitting with their half-consumed dinner, and Huang Shaotian had no choice but to follow from behind.
“Mu-jie,” Qiao Yifan, the other boy whom Huang Shaotian hadn’t taken notice before, murmured in greeting, but even as the two adults came closer, he shrunk back against his seat as if he wanted to make himself as small and inconspicuous as possible.
“It’s going to be finals week next week, so our instructors had us all stay behind for extra lessons,” Gao Yingjie replied, making a face.
“Sounds rough,” Su Mucheng commented sympathetically. Even as the teenagers were eating, they had notes, binders, and textbooks spread out all over the table so that they could make the best of their time to study.
“A new resident?” Gao Yingjie couldn’t help the curiosity as his gaze once again focused on the stranger standing next to Su Mucheng.
“Huang Shaotian, a childhood friend of mine,” Su Mucheng spread her arm towards the blond-haired man.
“Neighbor,” Huang Shaotian quickly corrected, “from a long, long time ago.”
“Whatever, stop being such a jerk,” Su Mucheng grumbled before facing the two youngsters again with a sunshine smile and continued the introductions, “This here is Qiao Yifan, and this is Gao Yingjie, Yifan’s contracted SS agent, but everyone calls him Xiao Jie because he’s the youngest in the complex. They’re both in their third year of senior high, so Shaotian, I’m saying this now, please be a good role model for these boys.”
Before Huang Shaotian could come up with a good retort, the two teenagers’ eyes turned extra bright and excited at the sound of the newcomer’s name.
“Hold on, you mean you’re the Huang Shaotian?” Gao Yingjie gasped, almost dropping the chopsticks he was holding, and he was grabbing onto Qiao Yifan’s sleeve as if the other boy was unaware of the significance of this discovery.  
“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that, kid,” Huang Shaotian rolled his eyes and ignored Su Mucheng’s rather painful elbow jab against his side.
“The Atavist with the title of Sword Saint, the one who inherited the spiritual power of the legendary sword Ice Rain — that’s… that’s you, right… sir?” Gao Yingjie’s cheeks tainted a soft pink when he finally realized how rude he was probably being, and like his companion, the boy shrunk back against his chair when Huang Shaotian stared icily down at him.
“So, what if I am?” his tone was sharp and cold as a storm of ice shards.
The respect, the expectation, the fear, the exhilaration — these were all displayed blatantly in these youngsters’ eyes, and it was forming a rusted chain from years and years of practiced smiles and forced laughter, restricting him from moving forward, suffocating him from the inside.
‘And there it goes again,’ Huang Shaotian thought, a hint of disappointment and something darker, more desperate and forlorn, seeping into his bones like poison corroding what was left of his hope of starting anew in a different environment with different people. ‘They’re all the same. They all want the same thing from me,’ he reminded himself bitterly, ‘all the same.’
“I-I’m sorry,” Gao Yingjie apologized when he saw Huang Shaotian’s expression darkened in an instant, “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Don’t worry about it, Xiao Jie,” Su Mucheng quickly said, pulling Huang Shaotian away, “he’s just in a prissy mood because of uh, jet lag. We better get out of your way and leave you to your studying.”
Gao Yingjie and Qiao Yifan both nodded numbly before burying their heads into their notebooks once more, though once or twice, they lifted their faces from pages of notes to peek over at the stranger with curiosity that they didn’t dare show when Huang Shaotian was still standing close to them.
“Why do you have to behave like this?” Su Mucheng hissed at him as she pulled the man almost a head taller than her towards the double doors that would take them out into the hallway, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. There were a few more people she was planning to introduce him to, but if he was going to be uncooperative right from the start, there really was no point, was there?
“I was half-considering playing nice, I swear to god I was, but did you see those kids’ faces the moment they realized who I am?” Huang Shoatian snarled, fiercely shaking off Su Mucheng’s hands on his arm.  “That’s exactly the type of unwanted attention and behavior that makes me sick, absolutely fucking sick to my stomach. They wanted something from me — I don’t know what it is yet, and I don’t fancy finding out — but there is no way in hell I’m just going to smile and accept it like I’ve done all these years to make my family happy.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Shaotian! Oy, listen to people when they’re trying to talk to you! You little—”
The elevator doors shut in her face before Su Mucheng could finish. Leaning her back against the wall with a heavy sigh, she was contemplating whether it’d be wise to go up to Huang Shaotian’s apartment unit and tried to explain Qiao Yifan’s situation to him or if it’d only make the matter worse.
“I see you’ve tried to introduce Shaotian to the others,” a man came and stood by her side, eyes casted down to see that Su Mucheng was restlessly pulling on a loose thread on her sweater. He wrapped a warm, gentle hand around her smaller one as a gesture of comfort. The lingering, familiar scent of cigarette smoke hovered warmly over her like a blanket. “How did it go?”
“You clearly saw the whole thing, didn’t you?” Su Mucheng squeezed the man’s fingers appreciatively before letting go, and she glanced up to meet the man with a lazy smirk that confirmed what she’d guessed. “Want to try and convince him that not everyone here is out to get him? It’s hard to get through his thick head sometimes, but you’d know that already.”
“There’s someone else who’d be much more suitable for this task, and he’s already waiting upstairs as we speak,” the man grinned. “You haven’t had dinner yet, right? Let’s grab some food. Big Eye might get lonely the longer I’m away.”
Su Mucheng snorted at the confident tone with which her companion spoke of his relationship with Wang Jiexi, his current charge, but followed him anyway.
-
“Welcome back, Master Shaotian. I apologize deeply for arriving so late in the evening that I was unable to help you move in and unpack this morning. Please accept my offering of remorse and forgive my negligence.”
Kneeling with one knee by his unit entrance with a bouquet of what seemed to be blue hyacinths and forget-me-nots was a man who was close to his age, with a head of dark locks combed stylishly into a casual curtain haircut and donning a slim-cut suit and tie of ink black, pristine white shirt, and leather gloves. Since his head was bowed low, Huang Shaotian couldn’t see the man’s eyes or his expression, and he was instantly wary at the first sight of this well-dressed stranger.
“…I know I’m going to regret asking, but do I know you?” Huang Shaotian sounded hesitant. “Also, can you please get up? You are making me super uncomfortable. And do I even want to know what those flowers are for. Wait, don’t tell me those flowers are for me? What the hell is this? Am I suddenly living the life of a shoujo manga protagonist?”  
“My apologies,” the man pulled himself to his feet and stood with his back straight and tall, and finally lifted his head to look at Huang Shaotian properly for the first time. With a gentle tenor that could rival the moon’s soft brilliance, and a harmless smile lining his lips, he introduced himself, “My name is Yu Wenzhou, your assigned Secret Service agent during your residency in Glory Complex. To answer Master Shaotian’s question, this bouquet is indeed a welcoming gift for you, but should it displease you, I can certainly get that out of your way. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, and I look forward to serving you starting from today.”
Yu Wenzhou bowed once more, his manners perfectly immaculate; nothing about the man could be considered disagreeable, and if Huang Shaotian wasn’t in such a stupor right now, he might actually take the time to appreciate the angular planes of the man’s face and the beautiful deep blue of his eyes without feeling so conflicted about the entire ordeal.  
Huang Shaotian blinked once, then twice, and when he realized that he’d been staring for too long, he began to ramble, “Hold-hold on a moment, would you? What do you mean, you’ll be serving me? What SS agent? I don’t remember signing any contracts with an agent or being assigned to one! Is this a trick of some sort? Were you sent here by my family’s enemies to screw with me? Because I can tell you right here right now, that I have nothing to do with them the moment I stepped out of that estate, so like, if you’re looking for trouble, you’re going to have to leave and go bother them instead. Hey, you listening to me, buddy? Oy, I’m talking to you, oy! What the hell are you smiling for, damn it!”
“There must be some misunderstanding, Master Shaotian,” Yu Wenzhou patiently explained, though it was difficult to maintain a neutral expression after Huang Shaotian’s hilarious outburst, “I am here to serve you under no one’s will but my own.”
“Wait,” Huang Shaotian put up a hand to halt the other man from talking, his eyes growing wide as a sudden realization dawned on him. “Wait a fucking minute. My parents send you here, didn’t they?! They think I’m useless without them! Well, in that case, you can fuck right off back to the estate and tell my folks I’m doing just fine and that I don’t need a goddamn butler to take care of me.”
“Master Shaotian, please,” Yu Wenzhou took a step forward, an arm reaching out but when he saw Huang Shaotian flinched at the motion, the bodyguard immediately remained in his place and continued with a raw, agonizing look in his eyes that only briefly surfaced before it was drowned out by the dark tranquility once more, “I have nowhere else to go.”
That flicker of emotion didn’t escape Huang Shaotian’s observation, and he wasn’t sure how to respond to that or what it could possibly mean, yet it was that exact moment of fragility that Yu Wenzhou accidentally let slip that allowed Huang Shaotian to think twice before he started again.
“Listen, buddy,” Huang Shaotian decided to try a different tactic then — one that worked with the majority of the people he used to have to deal with on a daily basis — and sent Yu Wenzhou one of his signature friendly grins, “I honestly have no use for an SS agent, and I don’t want you to waste your potential here. So why don’t we sit down, have a nice talk, and see if I can find you a new, more fitting employer, huh?”
Yu Wenzhou’s lips tightened into a firm but determined line at the other man’s suggestion, and when he glanced up to meet Huang Shaotian’s gaze, Huang Shaotian’s heart was trembling at the inkling of gritty resolve — an absolutely contrasting image to the elegance of his gestures and the warm tone he spoke with — reflecting bright in those dark eyes.
“I do not wish to serve anyone else but you. You see, the reason why I’m still here…” Yu Wenzhou swallowed, taking in a deep breath as if he was letting go of a deep secret that’d been buried within him for a long time, and said, “You may not remember this, but the reason that I’m able to survive until now is because of you, and no matter what happens, knowing that I’m more capable than before, I’d like to repay your kindness with my humble service.”
“You’ve completely lost me, man,” Huang Shaotian sighed. With what little he could discern from Yu Wenzhou’s words, he could only assume that they’d met before, a long time ago, perhaps, so long that he had no memory of such an encounter. A part of him wanted to find out more, but mostly, he just didn’t want to deal with this strange man any more for the time being.
He had things to unpack, and a new semester of school to prepare for in a few days.
“Okay, okay, let’s settle the situation like this until we can find a better solution: you can stay for the time being, but you are not under any obligation to… do things for me, all right?”
Glancing up at him from beneath his blond fringes, Huang Shaotian’s tone became a little less aggravated and more frayed on the edges, as if he was too tired to carry on with this conversation, and perhaps Yu Wenzhou could tell, because with a small yet grateful smile, the SS agent agreed.
“Thank you, Master Shaotian, for allowing me to stay,” Yu Wenzhou lowered his head in a respectful bow again while Huang Shaotian walked past the man to enter his unit. He only hesitated a little when he silently retrieved the bouquet from Yu Wenzhou’s offering hands.
The next morning was a Sunday, but Huang Shaotian woke up before his alarm went off. His phone informed him that it was only 5:32 a.m., but he didn’t feel the slightest desire to go back to sleep. The unfamiliar environment made him antsier than usual, and the best way to rid of that discomfort was to get out of bed and physically work off the excessive energy.
But first — as his stomach reminded him rather loudly with an obnoxious growl — he needed to get some breakfast. He quickly took a shower and threw on a set of comfortable clothing before heading out.
“Good morning, Master Shaotian,” Yu Wenzhou greeted him from the entrance the moment he stepped out of his apartment.
“Shit, how long have you been waiting out here for?” Huang Shaotian almost skipped back when he saw the agent standing in the same position as he had left him last night. He still looked as impeccable as ever, and Huang Shaotian half wondered if he’d been standing out here the entire night.
Instead of answering with a direct response, Yu Wenzhou merely gave him a gentle smile and said, “I didn’t want to miss the chance to serve you again like yesterday. I learn from my mistakes.”
“I can see that…” Huang Shaotian was a little bit weirded out but didn’t want to elaborate on this topic, so he asked with a hesitant voice, “Um, have you had breakfast yet, at least?”
“I am not certain what dishes would be to your liking, so I have asked the kitchen to prepare a bit of everything,” Yu Wenzhou responded as they walked towards the elevator together, the bodyguard always remaining two steps behind Huang Shaotian — a careful distance.
“You’re not really answering my questions — did you notice that?” Huang Shaotian’s brows dipped into a slight frown, and Yu Wenzhou was afraid that he’d unknowingly aggravated his charge. “Why is that?”
“My first priority is your wellbeing, Master Shaotian,” Yu Wenzhou said, slightly taken aback by Huang Shaotian’s question, but he responded truthfully, “please, do not concern yourself over me, for I’m of no consequence at all. Nothing would make me happier than to please and serve you.”
Huang Shaotian noticed the detached way with which the other man verbally belittle himself like it was a normal occurrence, and he wanted to say something about that, but as they entered the elevator and Huang Shaotian glanced over at Yu Wenzhou, who still maintained a respectable distance away from him, his facial expression as smooth and impenetrable as the surface of a mirror, he only said with a shake of his head, “You’re a strange one.”
He didn’t think he had the justification to ask, and he was sure that Yu Wenzhou would not stay here for long anyway. Why made it complicated by getting into businesses he had no right to be in?
Since it was still so early in the morning, the dining hall was fortunately empty. Set up on one single table were breakfast items ranging from western cuisine like eggs, sausages, and cereals to the Chinese usual like deep-fried dough sticks, hot savory soymilk, and rice porridge. On a wheeled cart, there were a variety of teabags and coffees.
“For fuck’s sakes, there’s no way I can finish all this by myself,” Huang Shaotian fell into the chair pulled out by Yu Wenzhou, and turning around with an almost accusing stare, he continued, “you’ve got to help me eat some of this.”
“I cannot possibly—” Yu Wenzhou started.
“Yu Wenzhou,” the man used his name for the first time, amber irises glaring up at him through his blond forelocks with the kind of commanding light Yu Wenzhou found impossible to ignore, and his lips upturned into a forced, cold smile, “Let me rephrase this a little: I’m not asking you to join me at the table; I’m…” he sighed, averting his gaze guiltily when he said his next words, “…I’m giving you a direct order.”  
Huang Shaotian was used to people doing what he asked without thinking too hard about it: at home, except for his parents, the caretakers of the mansion would easily do anything the young master requested and would never dare to go against his wishes; and at school, his easy-going attitude and charming smiles effortlessly won over his teachers and peers as well.
Yet when faced with the humble — or rather, self-deprecating — manner with which Yu Wenzhou carried himself around him, Huang Shaotian found it much more difficult to understand the actual intention of the SS agent.  
“In that case, I shall do as you wish,” Yu Wenzhou lowered his head in respect and took a seat across from Huang Shaotian, but he didn’t start touching the food until Huang Shaotian finished his second piece of deep-fried dough and consumed half of the soymilk. All throughout breakfast, neither of them had spoken, but Huang Shaotian would occasionally observe the SS agent with what he thought were discreet glances.
By the time they finished their meal, the other residents had finally begun to show up for breakfast. To Huang Shaotian, most of them addressed the newcomer with a stiff but polite enough ‘good morning’, while to Yu Wenzhou, it appeared that most of them were, to varying degrees, acquainted with the SS agent and so were more comfortable with friendlier greetings. Ye Xiu even came over to give the initially startled man a one-armed hug, mumbling something in his ear that only Yu Wenzhou could hear before he stepped away to join Wang Jiexi at his table. While taking a sip of his coffee, Ye Xiu managed to catch Huang Shaotian’s attention and sent him a knowing wink, which Huang Shaotian was utterly perplexed by and so decided to ignore him all together.
Though they had known each other since they were children, Huang Shaotian could tell when Ye Xiu had something up his sleeves, and that wink had been anything but innocent.  
“I didn’t realize you’re friendly with Lao Ye,” Huang Shaotian said with an interested expression as they entered the elevator, “or with the others, for that matter. Who were you contracted with before?”
“Ye Xiu-qian bei had helped me in the past,” Yu Wenzhou only said, and then with an almost imperceptible bitter twitch of his lips, he murmured, “though we’d also been compared a lot when we were younger — perhaps since our abilities stem from similar roots — but Ye-qian bei’s powers and his command over it have always been exceptional among the Atavist community, so there was no comparison at all. I look up to him, and he had taught me much about my own abilities.”
“Lao Ye is a monster,” Huang Shaotian agreed with a laugh, “even I’d have a hard time fighting against him depending on the conditions. And what about the others?”
“I have the opportunity to be acquainted with Mistress Mucheng through Ye-qian bei, but I only started becoming acquainted with the others since I started living in Glory Complex several months ago.”
“You acted differently when you’re with them,” Huang Shaotian tried to tread along this route carefully, because he also noticed that even though Yu Wenzhou accepted the others’ amiable approach (sometimes overly so as had been with Ye Xiu’s case), the SS agent still had that aura of invisible armor around him that made it hard for others to get closer. “If it’s a matter of spending time together, does that mean that given enough time, you’ll stop with all this overly-courteous nonsense and start talking to me like a normal person?”
They were about to go into Huang Shaotian’s unit, but Yu Wenzhou stopped short.
“I apologize,” was the first thing that came out of Yu Wenzhou’s mouth.
“Whatever the hell for?” Huang Shaotian raised both of his brows in confusion.
“There is simply no way for me to treat you as I treat the others, Master Shaotian,” Yu Wenzhou lowered his head, unable to meet his charge’s eyes, but he continued in a soft yet revered tone, “you are different; you mean so much more to me than the others.”
“You know, it’s funny you say that,” Huang Shaotian shook his head and pulled the SS agent into his unit, closing the door behind them so they could continue this conversation with more privacy, “because I see no difference between myself and those guys down there. I mean, sure, the Atavist community is organized in such an outdated way that some clans are viewed as more ‘distinguished’ and so were given more powers over the others, but we are all essentially the same, aren’t we?”
“This is not what I mean,” Yu Wenzhou took a step forward, as if the chain inside him had suddenly snapped and something akin to desire in the form of a meandering, hissing snake had been set free, breaking the mask of calm that he always hid behind. He kept forcing Huang Shaotian to walk backwards until his back hit the wall and he was trapped between plaster and the man’s fist braced against the wall a mere inch beside his head. The ink in Yu Wenzhou’s eyes darkened, thick and endless like the depth of night, when he whispered brokenly, like a desperate man pleading for Huang Shaotian to understand, “To me, clan politics and hierarchy is meaningless. To me, you — Master Shaotian — you are my one and only concern. Always had been. Always will be.”
“Yu Wenzhou,” Huang Shaotian was overwhelmed by the SS agent’s abrupt change of mannerism, his breathing hitched and heart thundering at the proximity, but his eyes were cold and aloof when all he could see, all he could smell, all he could breathe in was Yu Wenzhou’s face, his scent, his exhales. Still, there was only so much Huang Shaotian allowed himself to tolerate, and this was it; there were too many unknown variables where Yu Wenzhou was concerned, and he didn’t like surprises. He also didn’t like almost-strangers getting into his personal space without just cause. “You’ve crossed a line,” he uttered each syllable curt and clear so that there was no chance of misunderstanding, “get out.”
The darkness in the SS agent’s eyes dissipated, clarity gradually returning to his senses, but it was too late. He’d let the roiling, starving monster within him escape, and in the end, Yu Wenzhou was helpless against its deadly claws, its suffocating yearning. Exhaling shakily, he retrieved his arm back to his side and took a step back, and with another bow of apology, Yu Wenzhou exited the room.
Muttering colourful swear words and running frustrating hands over his hair worthy of a bird’s nest, Huang Shaotian felt his heartbeat slowing down finally, but what got left behind was a strange void that threatened to swallow him from the inside. He recalled those horrifying, beautiful eyes from that one moment of weakness, the simplicity of and faith in his words, and Huang Shaotian had to squeeze his eyes closed in a futile attempt to forget. After several minutes of useless struggling, he began to tidy up his belongings and make this place feel more like a livable place.
-
“All right, I’ve had enough of this game of hide and seek,” Huang Shaotian breathed out through his nose as he narrowed his eyes with obvious impatience, his golden irises hardening into a sharp metallic tone as the late afternoon sun reflected off of them.
It was his third week living in Glory Complex and second week since the new semester had started. Ever since the first day of class when he hadn’t expected to be picked up from school with a flashy black sedan at the entrance of the university and Yu Wenzhou opening the door for him like he was a foreign prince, Huang Shaotian had very firmly instructed the SS agent to never do that again.
Yu Wenzhou had seemed slightly disappointed then, but with his usual calm demeanor, he only nodded and apologized for causing trouble for his master. Huang Shaotian was about to open his mouth to say something — to reprimand him, maybe, or to tell him again to stop using such formal language around him — but knowing it was no use, the man simply snapped his mouth shut and said nothing.  
“Not too shabby for the heir of Ice Rain,” the man — presumably the leader — standing in front of a group of ten, maybe fifteen people with a gun held expertly in his hands, cackled loudly.
“Oh, so you do know who I am,” Huang Shaotian gave them a pleasant smile, shouldering his messenger bag more securely, and said with a subtle warning tone, “you can still run away now before I change my mind.”
“Ah, and an arrogant, smug brat as well. We’ve been ordered to deal with you as nicely and quietly as possible, seeing as you are the only precious son of the Huang clan after all, but I like feisty little boys like you — putting up a decent fight makes the reward that much more captivating.”
His underlings laughed at the crudeness of their leader’s taunt.  
“Ugh, you are so not my type, man,” Huang Shaotian wrinkled his nose in disgust, and dumped his bag by his feet, cracking his knuckles in readiness with an animalistic grin stretched across his lips, “give it up.”
With his eyes closed and feeling his own soul reaching out for that of the ancient Ice Rain’s, he followed the strand of familiar light, pulling the thread towards himself and winding it tightly around his heart until he and the spirit of the legendary sword became one. A burst of wind picked up in the narrow alley, and gladiolus flowers surrounded his frame in a whirlwind of dazzling blue and deep violet petals. When the wind finally subsided and the group of attackers could see clearly once more, standing in front of them was the spiritual form of Ice Rain.
All humanistic traits of Huang Shaotian had been washed away and transformed into something more ethereal: azure swirls marked his left cheek, sunlight-gold irises deepened to sky blue, blond hair grew long and styled into a messy ponytail that brushed past his lower back, and the pale blue fabric of his garment, bordered in soft silver, was accentuated by the dark mazarine scarf wrapped loosely around his neck.
He unsheathed his sword, the blade shimmering with a cold gleam befitted of its title, and its commander swept his enemies with eyes of a predator.
“Well?” one of Huang Shaotian’s brows arched upward in challenge. “Am I going to have to waste time kicking your ass one by one or will all of you be fighting me together at once?”
“Get him!” the leader hollered before Huang Shaotian had a chance to taunt them some more, but that was fine with him, too.
Upon the leader’s command, the group split up into two teams and went around the swordsman in an attempt to surround and attack him from all directions. Those with long-distance assault skills began throwing elemental spells at him, as turfs of red angry flames and sizzling balls of electricity, like bursting fireworks, got easily deflected by Huang Shaotian’s blade, ricocheting back to the group and injuring them from the delayed explosions. While this was happening, agile fighters sneaked close to the swordsman’s side and tried to attack him with various weapons: daggers were flung towards him like horizontal raindrops; swords were jabbing and slashing at him with no mercy; and punches were thrown his way in a flurry of rushed movements.
Huang Shaotian, with a choreographed-like dance that allowed him to move in between these bulky bodies easily and gracefully like rivers carving delicately into earth, successfully refracted most of the incoming attacks as he manipulated his sword as if the weapon was an extension of his arm. Within the span of a few minutes, he had injured over half of his attackers with long, bloody gashes on their arms, their backs, their chests, leaving these men heaving and staggering into the nearest wall for support.
“Had enough yet?” Huang Shaotian wiped the splatter of blood that had landed on his cheek with his sleeve, smearing the red across his pale skin and making him seemed more bloodthirsty and impossible to conquer.
Blood thrummed in his ears, and the thrill of the fight made Huang Shaotian hyperaware of his surroundings as he gracefully swung his sword to one side to discard of his enemies’ blood, the liquid spattering against the ground like heavy rainfall. Yet even with his heightened senses, he was too intoxicated by the blood that shrouded around him intimately like a piece of silken cloth. It was too late by the time he heard the cocking of the gun, and a flash of heat surged against and into his right shoulder, the force knocking him slightly backward.
“You fucker—” Huang Shaotian muttered with clenched teeth.
Blood began to seep into the blue of his garment, but Huang Shaotian hardly felt the pain. However, before he could take another step, before the leader could aim another shot at the swordsman, a figure appeared in between them, lithe and abrupt, surprising everyone in the vicinity.  
Another shot rang in the air, but everyone was frozen in place by the unannounced appearance of the stranger donned in white.
The bullet hit its mark, though it wasn’t the target that the leader had intended. The stranger’s hand had been in the way of the gun’s muzzle, and the bullet spun its way into his palm and through his flesh and bones, leaving behind a bleeding gap in the center of his hand.
“Yu… Wenzhou?” Huang Shaotian was uncertain, since the man’s physical appearance was very different from the one he was used to seeing, but deep within his body, the soul of Ice Rain was pulsing and responding to the spirit embodied in the other man’s frame. That familiar hue of light, the exact degree of warmth — Huang Shaotian’s heart instantly felt more grounded, though he couldn’t even begin to explain why.
The man turned around and gave him a soft smile; that, at least, was the same smile — harmless yet somehow distant. His eyes were the pale shade of lavender, matching the markings on his forehead, and his long snow-silver hair flowed freely behind his back and over his shoulders, which perfectly complimented the white and purple hues of his clothing, as well as the snake that had made itself comfortable resting around Yu Wenzhou’s shoulders, its head bobbing, pink eyes glazed, and forked tongue occasionally darting out in quiet hisses to taste the particles in the air.
“Your pet?” Huang Shaotian asked with a playful grin, all the while eyeing the snake with a cautious glance. At the sound of his voice, the snake turned its head sharply towards Huang Shaotian, the cream white and pale rose scales glittering in the light.
“Hush, Swoksaar, he is not our enemy,” Yu Wenzhou murmured comfortingly to the reptile, one hand reaching over to gently pet the snake on its head with the tip of his finger, causing the snake to turn its attention back to its owner, and then said in response to Huang Shaotian’s question, “In a manner of speaking. I apologize for arriving so late again, Master Shaotian.”
“You couldn’t have come at a better time, actually,” Huang Shaotian chuckled, and this was when he noticed Yu Wenzhou’s injury. “Hey, your hand…”
“Ah, this?” Yu Wenzhou lifted his injured hand up to inspect it, but he seemed undisturbed and merely said, “This is nothing. Please do not concern yourself over this. I would rather you grant me permission to deal with these gentlemen so as to not dirty your hands further.”
“You sure you want to do this all on your own?” Huang Shaotian’s expression became more somber. Though he knew Atavist blood ran through Yu Wenzhou’s veins, yet the swordsman wasn’t at all certain about his spiritual strength or combat skills; despite this, Huang Shaotian wanted to believe in him.  
“Please allow me to take this chance to prove to you my worth and loyalty,” Yu Wenzhou bowed, gaze lowered in humble reverence.
“Then they’re all yours,” Huang Shaotian put his sword back into its sheath with a nod.
“All right, all right, who the hell are you? Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt?” the leader’s patience had been running thin during this short exchange between Huang Shaotian and Yu Wenzhou; he was even more pissed that he was pointedly being ignored by the two youngsters while his underlings were watching.
“And do you not understand the definition of ‘disrespect’, sir,” Yu Wenzhou turned back to the leader with a deliberate slowness that had the other man freeze with a sudden seizure of fear. The Atavist’s pale-eyed stare impaled him calmly like a snake observing its prey, calculating the perfect moment to strike and kill, “when you and your friends decided to harass my master without even identifying yourself?”
The leader swallowed loudly, the arm holding the gun trembling and had to be steadied by his other arm as he took a step back.
“What is the matter?” Yu Wenzhou advanced another step, the corner of his lips twitching up slightly as Swoksaar tasted the waves of avid fear emitted from the men around them, though his eyes remained impassively cold. Curled up along his shoulders, Swoksaar the snake continued to hiss threateningly at the leader. “I thought you wanted to know who I am? Have you lost interest already? Or is it your nerves that you’ve lost?”
“It doesn’t matter who the fuck you are! Whoever is in the way, we’ll get rid of them, too!”
His subordinates echoed the leader’s proclamation, though some of them were doing it halfheartedly.  
“Oh, is that so?” Yu Wenzhou hummed, his smile growing wider, adding a hint of sensual maliciousness to the line of his lips. He lowered his head and whispered a command to Swoksaar; without any warning, the snake struck forth, mouth stretched wide with its dripping fangs exposed.
The leader hadn’t expected the swiftness of the reptile; in a second, the gun clattered to the ground uselessly as Swoksaar’s curved, sharp fangs sank deep into the man’s lower arm. Once incapacitated, the snake coiled along the injured arm — now boring two small puncture wounds and a sickly dark red-purple bruise beginning to bloom around that area — and continued its way up until it happily wrapped itself tautly around the man’s throat, its muscles beginning to contract.
The man grabbed onto the body of the snake with both hands to try and pull it off, but the harder he yanked, the more unwilling Swoksaar seemed to let go; he began to wheeze as his lungs slowly but surely ran out of oxygen.  
“L-let our boss go, sonovabitch! Call your dirty snake off, now!”
The group of men, who had been so rambunctious before when they had been attacking Huang Shaotian, had suddenly become much more cautious as they tried to approach Yu Wenzhou, but even that degree of vigilance was no use. With a wave of his arm and a dramatic sweep of his wide sleeve, a wall of violet-tinted needles materialized from thin air before Yu Wenzhou, and with another swing of his arm, the needles were discharged.
Upon being shot with the needles, which seemed to have melted as soon as they made contact with exposed skin, the men wailed or swore in agony, tripping and toppling over each other as they dropped to the ground into a mess of limbs. Their skin burned with biting acid, and strands of yellow smoke hissed from affected flesh.
Watching from the side, Huang Shaotian whistled, obviously impressed with the SS agent’s accuracy and skill.
Now that the underlings were no longer a threat, Yu Wenzhou crouched down by the leader, who was still grappling with Swoksaar but to no avail.
“Swoksaar, relax,” Yu Wenzhou ordered softly.
The man felt sweet air filling his lungs once more as soon as the snake slackened its body, and he gasped noisily to regain some semblance of consciousness. He glared darkly up at Yu Wenzhou, but the Atavist simply looked back at him with that frustratingly calm and unperturbed smile.
“What the fuck do you want from me?” the man spitted out.
“I want to know the name of the one who hired you to instigate this.”
“I’m the one who wanted the brat dead!”
This time, Yu Wenzhou was the one who had his fingers clasped tightly around the man’s neck, the tip of his fingers digging painfully into the flesh of his throat with nails sharp enough to draw blood. He lowered his head to speak directly into the leader’s ear, “What was that again? I don’t think I quite heard you.”
The man, shaking feebly against the menacing tone and sharp claws of Yu Wenzhou, muttered a name, and after nodding once to express his approval, Yu Wenzhou let him go and summoned Swoksaar back so that the snake could rest on his shoulders once more.
“What would you like me to do with him, Master Shaotian?” Yu Wenzhou asked once he got back to Huang Shaotian’s side.
“How badly did you hurt those assholes?” the swordsman wanted to know.
“The acid will merely leave small scars after the affected flesh is completely healed. Swoksaar’s poison, however…” Yu Wenzhou paused, glancing over his shoulder impassively to observe the bruising of the wound on the leader’s arm before letting out an amused chuckle, “that man is going to lose the arm, at least.”
Huang Shaotian nodded, satisfied, “let them go, then.”
The group didn’t need another invitation. Those who could move without aid quickly came to their leader’s side and hauled him up, and without daring to look back to the two Atavists, they scampered away.
“So, you wield the spiritual powers of the white snake,” Huang Shaotian commented with an interested glint to his eyes.
“Indeed. Swoksaar is not a separate entity but is actually a part of my spiritual form; we cannot be separated for too long a time.”
They transformed back to their human selves after the last of the enemies had disappeared around the block.
“You know, I could have totally taken care of that bastard by myself, thank you very much,” Huang Shaotian picked up his discarded school bag but hissed in pain when he apparently forgot that one of his shoulders had just been shot with a bullet.
From his own bag, Yu Wenzhou took out a package of dressing and a roll of bandage, and despite Huang Shaotian’s initial protest, the man finally gave up and allowed his SS agent to deal with his injury.
“I have never doubted your abilities, Master Shaotian,” Yu Wenzhou was saying while he worked to wind the bandage around the dressed wound with enough pressure to stop the blood flow. “It is simply that, I cannot control myself when I see someone trying to hurt you.”
He paused momentarily as he applied tapes to keep the bandage intact.
“Give me your hand,” Huang Shaotian said.
“Master Shaotian?”
“Your hand,” he emphasized, rolling his eyes, “you know, the one that had a bullet blasted through it?”
“You don’t have to trouble yourself—”
“For fuck’s sakes, Yu Wenzhou, will you please just give me your goddamn hand?”
“Okay,” he seemed a little dazed when he lifted his injured hand out for Huang Shaotian, who took it carefully into his and started to disinfect it as best as he could.
Huang Shaotian had a much more difficult time bandaging him since he had never done this before, but Yu Wenzhou appreciated his effort anyway, his lips lifting up into a gentle smile that Huang Shaotian didn’t spot at all. Yet as his gaze settled onto Huang Shaotian’s injured shoulder, where blood was still seeping into the white of the bandage, his eyes darkened with shame and discontented resentment aimed at himself. He wished he could have taken the bullet for the other Atavist instead; he wished he had done more; he wished Huang Shaotian wouldn’t push him away again. Not like last time.
“Please punish me,” Yu Wenzhou finally said, the syllables heavy, his heart heavier.
“You say the weirdest shit, Yu Wenzhou,” Huang Shaotian shook his head, a little exasperated, a little fond, “and why would I do that? Have you done something terrible that warranted punishment?”
“After all I have said and promised, I’d failed to do what I have set out to do properly. My duty is to protect you from all harm — precisely during scenarios like the one we have just experienced — and yet I wasn’t here when you needed a shield the most; I wasn’t here to take that bullet for you. I’ve caused you to bleed.”
It wasn’t like him to ramble on and on like this, and Huang Shaotian was too distracted by the man’s soothing tenor that it took him a few seconds to process what he was saying. “I do not deserve to be contracted as your SS agent.”
“Woah, woah, woah, okay, let’s slow down, shall we?” Huang Shaotian quickly stopped him from going further. “First of all, this bullet wound? Not your fucking fault. Did you ask those bastards to attack me? No. Second of all, I was the one who forced you to stay away from the campus in the first place, remember? Because honestly, that car is so embarrassing. So, if anyone were to be blamed here, I think I’d be the perfect candidate in this case, right?”
Yu Wenzhou didn’t say anything; he merely shook his head in disagreement, his head and gaze lowered to avoid direct eye contact with Huang Shaotian.
“What, are you saying I’m wrong?”
Still, the other man pressed his lips tight. He didn’t dare outwardly challenge Huang Shaotian, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Huang Shaotian — the one who’d saved him from himself all those years ago, the only one who could light the smallest flame of hope in the dying ambers of his heart with one smile — placing all the blame onto himself on his behalf.
“Wenzhou,” Huang Shaotian called out his name without the weight of his surname for the first time, and he felt the man’s fingers hooked under his chin, forcing him to look up and directly meet his gaze. “Wenzhou, look at me.”
“You want to stay by my side and be my SS agent — fine,” there was a hint of yielding to his tone, and Yu Wenzhou’s heart stuttered when Huang Shaotian looked at him with a hesitant smile, and then his expression turned serious again with his next words, “but I won’t have you blaming and beating yourself up every time I got a papercut or, you know, got attacked by some random wild Atavist clan. I want you to promise me that, as long as I am your master and you are my shield, you will take care of yourself so you can… um, well, so you can take better care of me. You hear?”
He realized belatedly that the last part of his statement could be taken entirely out of context and be interpreted in several ways, yet when he tried to gauge for Yu Wenzhou’s reaction to his longwinded and awkwardly-phrased arrangement, his forelocks were covering any emotion that might be reflected in his eyes, but his next gesture stunned the usually boisterous Huang Shaotian into absolute silence.
As gently and tenderly as he could, Yu Wenzhou picked up Huang Shaotian’s right hand and lowered his head to place a light kiss on the back of it, his breath burning the skin there, like a fiery brand, a silent pledge.
“I promise,” he said, and the smile that followed was one that Huang Shaotian had never seen on the man before: it was warm, but it was the sort of warmth that travelled past the curve of his lips, reached his eyes, making them that much more kind.    
“Awesome,” Huang Shaotian said, blinking blankly and five seconds too late with his cheeks tainted a light pink as he quickly retrieved his hand and stuck them into his trouser pocket. “Now then, will you finally tell me what’s up with all these overly courteous honorifics you keep drenching me with for the past few weeks? I want to know why I’m… ‘different’, as you said, compared to the rest of them in your eyes.”
“You really can’t recall?”
“Remind me, will ya?”
They had begun the short walk back to Glory Complex, and evening was fast approaching as the sky was awash with a palette of blazing reds, rich violets, and griseous blues.
“Do you remember a small snake that you’d rescued from a group of children throwing rocks at it? And then bringing it back to your home, where you had to hide it in a warehouse in your backyard because you were afraid someone might find it and throw it away? You must have been fairly young then — five, or six years old?”
“Are you—” Huang Shaotian stopped to turn and look at Yu Wenzhou with disbelief in his eyes, his mouth agape, “—are you telling me that, that tiny, little snake from back then — that was you?!”
With a chuckle, Yu Wenzhou nodded in affirmation.
“With Swoksaar’s spirit resting inside of me, my body was never really stable in between transformations,” Yu Wenzhou explained, craning his neck to stare at the beautiful sky as the painful memory washed over his mind in sheets that threatened to asphyxiate him, “in addition to having a frail physical body and poor mental control over my spiritual powers, I was seen as some kind of lesser misfit in the Atavist community; the humans, of course, would never welcome me as one of their own. So, I was never accepted in either spheres.
“When you found me, I was about to give up,” Yu Wenzhou glanced over at the other man with a light-hearted smile that didn’t quite match the desolate connotation of his words. “But then there you were, shielding me — a dirty, nameless nobody — with your own body, and taking me into your home like I mattered.”
“But… you were gone after like, two days!” Huang Shaotian recalled, “I thought you’d been eaten by another wild animal or something, I was so worried.”
“You were?” his voice remained leveled, but his heart felt incredibly light.
“I guess I worried over nothing though, huh?” Huang Shaotian laughed, leaning against his arm easily like they had been friends for years, the sound a wonderful melody reminiscent of a bittersweet memory.
It was strange to think that just three weeks ago, Huang Shaotian hardly wanted to have anything to do with him, but he understood now — why Yu Wenzhou had been so insistent when they first met, when they saw each other after so many years, a fateful reunion.  
“I guess you did,” Yu Wenzhou said with a soft smile.  
-
“Oh, if it isn’t Wenzhou,” Ye Xiu sat across from him, placing down a mug of coffee and a notebook scrawled with messy handwriting on the table.  
“Ye-qian bei,” Yu Wenzhou greeted him, glancing up from the book he was reading. He slipped a piece of paper to mark his place in the book and set it aside. “How are you?”
“Pretty good, pretty good,” Ye Xiu replied, then turned to the younger man with a knowing grin, “but it looks like you’re doing very good for yourself, too.”
“Is it really that obvious?”
“It’s okay, Huang Shaotian has that effect on everyone,” Ye Xiu smirked, and then asked with a more serious tone to his voice, “so, he finally remembered?”
“Yes,” Yu Wenzhou took a graceful sip of his earl grey and left it at that.
“Well, I’m glad it all worked out for you, I really am,” Ye Xiu patted his shoulder good-naturedly.
“And how are you and Master Wang getting along?”
“Me and Big Eye?” Ye Xiu hid his face behind his cup of coffee.
“It must be different from when you were serving the Su siblings, surely?”
“That’s, uh, one way of putting it,” he lighted a cigarette and sucked on it like his life depended on it, and this was the signal that Yu Wenzhou could clearly interpret as one that he should stop talking about a certain someone.
“Wenzhou, Wenzhou, I’m back!” the door to the dining hall slammed open and in bounced Huang Shaotian who’d just been set free from school.
“Welcome back, Master Shaotian,” Yu Wenzhou gathered his book, excused himself from the table, and went over to greet his charge with a smile.
As the two left the dining hall, with Huang Shaotian chattering about something unfortunate that had happened to one of his classmates that day and Yu Wenzhou attentively listening and nodding at the right places, Ye Xiu happily returned to his previous task of consuming his coffee and making notes on his design.
“Ye Xiu, there you are,” Wang Jiexi sounded unimpressed, though it was subtle enough to not be easily noticed.
“Miss me already, Big Eye?”
“I’ve booked us flight tickets to Sri Lanka tomorrow morning,” Wang Jiexi ignored Ye Xiu’s playful teasing.
“What is it that you’re gathering this time?” Ye Xiu sighed and pulled himself out of the chair. The cigarette, almost burned out, was left inside the ashtray, a lonely trail of smoke rising up weakly from the pile of days-old ashes.  
“Alexandrite,” Wang Jiexi said. “I expect you to diligently carry out your duties as my SS agent during this trip. Will that be a problem?”
With a mocking grin, Ye Xiu turned to face the witch, renowned in the Atavist community as a powerful healer and diviner, and bowed before him, right hand crossed over his heart and said, “Of course not, my lord.”
---
A/N: So the next part will be WangYe, but I’m gonna leave this AU for awhile because jfc it has killed me for the last few weeks. Thank you for reading ‘til the end, guys!
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miracle-sham · 5 years
Text
Instead of Dead, Become Two Dragons in Red.
| {MaribatMarch2020 — Week 1, Day 5: Transformation} |
| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] |
| Triggers/Warnings: Violence/Implied Violence, Animal Transformation, Explicit Language/Some Swearing, Implied/Referenced Character Death (but not really), Polyamory (not really a trigger/warning but if you don't like Polyamory then this isn't for you). |
| For Gotham vigilantes, rampaging magic-users always make for an interesting fight, that is of course, provided one doesn't get hit by any stray bolts of magic. However for Parisian heroes, it's just your typical Tuesday Akuma situation. |
| Word Count: 3232 |
==‹›==
| A/N: Hi! I'm not dead, sorry for how long I took to respond to comments, I got hit by a nasty cold then sinusitis so I lost basically all my Maribat March prep time thanks to that, so I just barely managed to finish this ficlet/oneshot for today, anyway I hope you guys enjoy, and if enough people enjoy it, I'll make a second part to this oneshot because I had to cut so much material and it'd be nice to be able to use it still. |
| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then comment or send me a DM/ask! |
| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |
==‹›==
 Zzzzt-crackle-woosh, a purplish-black bolt of unstable magic flies through the air, just barely grazing passed Dragonbug's side as she flips across the gap between two buildings. Cheerfully, she calls out “Missed again!”
 The villain, an amorphous black shadow with dripping molten gold eyes and donning a ruddy patchwork hooded robe (which suffice to say, looks suspiciously like a rip-off wizzrobe from the Legend of Zelda, that or a faceless Gregorian based cultist extra from a film or TV show), scowls furiously, “Oh fuck you! I'm trying my best here!” and blasts another bolt of purplish-black magic towards her.
 Conveniently located on the roof she just landed on, is an air vent. She cartwheels behind it and manages to dodge the bolt by a good metre or so. “Well, your best sucks and so does your aim!”
 The wizard-villain screeches in fury, “Well my aim wouldn't suck if you didn't keep moving like a goddamn Duracell bunny!”
 Dragonbug snorts. “Yeah but firstly, I'm dragon and ladybird themed, not bunny-themed; the bunny theme's already taken anyway. And secondly, where's the fun in that?”
 As soon as she says that, her earpiece crackles as Red Robin pipes up on the comms channel. “Ready to see some fireworks?”
 “Oh, you bet!” She responds, all too gleefully.
 There's a faint clink-woosh-woosh-woosh and out of the corner of her eye, Dragonbug sees a blur of a small round silver ball arcing through the air towards the wizard-villain who's quite stupidly standing in the same place. As the silver ball disappears from her view, she hears a clatter of clink-clink-clink followed by a bwoosh and a bright flash of white light. At this moment, Dragonbug is so glad the Miraculous suits protect against flashbangs of all things.
 The wizard-villain screams and once the flash of light fades, Dragonbug can see that they've fallen to their knees, in the middle of the street.
 Dragonbug frowns and eyes their form, then double-taps her comms. “Hey, is it me or does our rip-off wizzrobe-magic-cultist look somewhat unresponsive?”
 Her earpiece crackles again as Red Robin answers, and really someone should give these things a maintenance check, the crackling can be so distracting. “Our wizzrobe-magic-cultist is looking pretty unresponsive to me too. It could be a trap though because I swear I didn't use one of my knockout flashbangs.”
 She nods, despite the fact he can't see her; which upon realising this, she flushes red in embarrassment. After clearing her throat to compose herself, she tilts her head to the side. “That's concerning, unless our rip-off wizzrobe-magic-cultist is susceptible to flashes of light.” She pauses, frown deepening, “You don't think they've got epilepsy do you?”
 There's a slight rustle before Red Robin responds, “No, that's not what an epileptic seizure looks like. Again this could be a trap, or they could just be stunned. Either way, we should hurry but be careful.”
 “Right.” Dragonbug scurries over to the edge of the roof then flips her way down to the ground. As she lands, she just spots Red Robin vaulting across an overturned car. As he catches sight of her, she gives him a thumbs up, which he returns.
 Dragonbug then nods to him and he nods back, silently communicating their plan. They both start to slowly approach the wizard-villain in a pincer movement, her to the left and him to the right.
 Red Robin reaches to his bandoliers and whips out a pair of manacles. He skulks behind the wizard-villain and goes to handcuff when the wizard-villain starts cackling maniacally. The laughter is quickly followed by a forming orb of purplish-black light—the same light as the magic bolts.
 Oh, fuck! Is Dragonbug's only thought as she immediately dives at Red Robin, who's started backing away; she uses herself to try and block him from the still-forming orb. Please let the Miraculous magic protect us both! She silently begs as the orb expands exponentially, unfortunately enveloping them both completely in a fraction of a second
 The maniacal laughter is the last thing they both hear as they're violently launched backwards into an alleyway, and everything fades to black.
==‹›==
Kagami's lounging on the sofa at Tim's Nest and binging Netflix, when the red alert rings across all the comms units.
 “Shit,” Oracle falters, “Red Robin and Dragonbug are down. Dragonbug's signature has disappeared from our systems and her comms aren't responding. All Red Robin's vitals are down, his suit isn't registering any more signs of life. But I'm still getting warnings that the villain they were fighting is still active, so everyone available needs to converge on Red Robin and Dragonbug's last known location.”
 Fear immediately seizes Kagami's heart, no please, please don't be dead my loves. She double-taps her comms. “I'm suiting up as Kuro Neko, I'll be at the location in three.”
 With that said, Kagami flings herself off the sofa. She glances around the room for Plagg who's halted in his eating of cheese and giving her a sad but cryptic look. Her eyes flicker to the window and he nods almost imperceptibly.
 “Plagg, claws on.” There's a woosh as the poisonous green light washes over her, donning her in the Kuro Neko suit. She flexes her claws for a split second, tail whipping back and forth furiously, before darting over to the window and vaulting out of it.
 As soon as she's out the window, Kuro Neko extends her baton down and begins pole-vaulting her way across the rooftops and over towards where her significant others were last.
==‹›==
 When Dragonbug returns to consciousness, the first thing she notices is that she can't move, nor see, nor hear. But she can feel, and unfortunately that means she feels a strange painful pulsing throughout her entire body, as well as an excruciating aching sensation. The second thing she notices is that she's curled up on the ground and her head, or the world, is spinning somewhat. Anyway, I can safely say I'm not doing so good right about now, big ouch.
 The first of her other senses to return is her hearing. Which immediately makes her hiss in pain from the sudden cacophony seemingly coming from somewhere above her? She pauses, then realises that something's not quite right, hey wait a minute, why'd my hiss sound so weird? Something's not right, although I suppose that's kinda obvious now, but still! Oh god, what if I'm dying, or I've been body switched, or—or—or—
 Her thoughts are interrupted by a sudden scream of fury, ringing out from above. Which is good because it means Dragonbug doesn't get time to dwell on that particular string of anxious thoughts, but it's also bad because it's loud and causes her to whimper in pain from how loud it is.
 “Where the fuck are they? What the fuck did you do to them?” A voice sounding very similar to Kagami yells out.
 Wait a second, that doesn't make sense, Red Robin and I didn't call for backup, so why would Kagami suit up on her night off? Dragonbug muses to herself, brain immediately latching onto the next train of thoughts. As she muses, she slowly realises that she's starting to regain the feeling in her limbs. Which is another positive? However, the feel of said limbs, causes her mind to immediately blank and lose the train of thought. While her brain tries to figuratively perform an error message, she does finally manage to crack open her eyes, yay sight.
 It's at that moment, Dragonbug's superhero experience/training kicks in. She quickly takes stock of her surroundings and quietly thinks to herself, oh fuck.
 It looks like she's in a giant—no massive—version of Red Robin's suit. Have I been shrunk? She wonders for only a brief second as something moves, just out of the area of her view. She turns and squints at the movement. Not a second later, a roughly cat-sized red lizard shuffled into sight.
 She squeaks in surprise, then has a minute of wait what because her squeak sounded weird and very concerningly not-human-like.
 The red lizard tilts its head to the side and coos at her.
 Dragonbug glares at the lizard and tries to back away. Emphasis on tries, because as she does so, she ends up tripping over herself? Confused and extremely concerned now, she glances down and oh.
 What. The. Heckles. She slowly spins around, checking out her new form, because she's clearly no longer human. No, she's got a snout, scales, fur—well mane—, claws, a long snakelike body, and a tail. Spinning around, she catches sight of a gleaming piece of shiny silver metal. So does what anyone would in the same situation as her, and scuttles over to it to use it as a makeshift mirror.
The reflection that greets her is… frankly quite adorable but also she's now a tiny little lung/long dragon. Which to be fair, makes quite a bit of sense as she was using the dragon Miraculous and Longg is a lung dragon. Her scales are a pretty red with shimmery golden accents and her mane is a dark red-almost-black colour. Her eyes still have the golden yellow iris and sclera that the dragon Miraculous gives. And the rest of her is all done variation of the gold, brighter red, and darker red. So at least her colour palette doesn't clash. Okay, so the colour palette isn't the most pressing issue here, but also I don't know how to fix this or change back so y'know, I'd rather potentially be stuck like this permanently with a nice colour palette, than one that clashes. But also oh god please don't let this be permanent, there has to be a way to undo this!
 In her panic, Marinette doesn't notice the red lizard slinking closer to her. As it reaches her, it gently prods her with one claw; startling her badly and causing her to squeak again, loudly.
 The red lizard flinches back and Marinette realises that maybe, just maybe, that's not a random lizard. And that maybe the not-a-random-lizard is actually a drake. A European dragon that hasn't got wings. And Tim. Tim's surname is Drake. A coincidence? I think not! It's got to be Tim!
 She stares at the probably-Tim dragon and makes a chirping noise because dragons don't have the same vocal cords as humans, so she can't exactly ask him if that's him or not. A minor nuisance, to say the least.
 The red drake mimics her chirp. Then cautiously slinks up to her again.
 This close, Marinette can see that she's probably around the size of a ferret, in comparison to him being roughly the same size as a cat.
 He flops down half beside, half against her and makes a series of clicks and chirps. She can't help but to tense as he flops but as the seconds pass, she finds herself relaxing bit by bit until she's also flopped over.
 Enjoying the peaceful impromptu not-quite-a-cuddle cuddle session with one of her significant others, Marinette does try to keep an ear out for any goings-on above, just in case. But all seems well.
 That is until, not even three seconds later, the peacefulness is abruptly shattered by a cacophony of screams, yells, zaps, and loud bangs echoing shrilly from above, before ceasing just as abruptly as it started.
 However, the unexpected cacophony still manages to cause Marinette to panic. She tenses with a low whine, hunching slightly, and holds her breath. Alert and anxiously vigilant, she can't help but survey the immediate vicinity again and again and again—looking for anything she missed initially or if anything's changed.
 Tim shuffles and stumbles into a sitting position. He nudges her gently in the side of the neck with his snout. He makes a cooing noise, followed by a soft rumble—as if he were trying to imitate a cat's purr.
 It takes a few seconds, but his actions start to help calm her down. She takes in a deep breath and mentally reassesses the situation. We've been turned into tiny dragons. We're inside-slash-underneath the Red Robin suit which is on the ground. Before we woke up like this, we were battling a magic-user villain who tricked us. We didn't get time to call in backup before we got hit but it sounds like backup arrived anyway. As far as we know, no one is aware of what happened to us or that we're in-slash-under the suit. We are currently safe for now.
 As Marinette reaches the end of the reassessment, she feels much calmer. She makes a low trill-like-purr noise to signal to Tim that she's calmed down.
 He sticks his tongue out in a blep and mimics the low trill.
 Their second moment of calm is then also interrupted because apparently fate hates peace and calmness or something like that.
 “I will ask you once more, Where. Are. They?” Kuro Neko questions.
 There's a loud thump-snap, followed by the wheezing cackle of the Wizard-villain. “They're gone! Dead! Erased! Exterminated!” With its piece said, the wizard-villain continues to wheeze and cackle maniacally.
Marinette can't help but shiver in fear at the sound, barely able to squash the rising nausea.
 A harsh snap sound echoes loudly in the street and the wizard-villain starts choking wetly.
 Kuro Neko hisses something but the red robin suit muffles the words to the point of being indistinguishable.
 The minutes drag by and the only sounds of note from above, are inaudible mutterings and the clattering of handcuffs and car doors. They must've handed the wizard-villain over to the police, Marinette thinks.
 She's about to go nudge Tim to try and communicate that they probably need to go find somewhere to stash his suit and a place for them to hide until they can figure out how to turn back when a conversation between the vigilantes who arrived for backup catches her attention. Partly because of the topic, and partly because of how close the voices suddenly sound.
 “They can't be dead, Red Robin's suit is still there.” Dick—or well more like Nightwing, since he probably arrived as backup as well—stresses.
 “But Dragonbug an' her suit's gone. You'd think maybe that there'd be a little more left if just organic matter was destroyed.” Jas—Red Hood mutters, the vocal distorter in his helmet making his tone of voice sound strange.
 Or maybe that's just a side effect of getting tiny-dragon-ified, thinks Marinette, things sounding stranger. Although I've not really noticed anything bar the distorted voice sounding weird.
 “The Miraculous suits are made of magic, and anyway, Plagg says he can't feel Tikki or Longg's presence anywhere,” Kuro Neko admits, reluctantly. “If all living things in the vicinity of the orb were destroyed, then the Miraculous would have still been left behind.”
 “And how d'you know that?” Red Hood asks, sounding both genuinely curious and mildly concerned.
 There's a split second of almost icy silence before Kuro Neko responds with a clipped tone. “Akuma.”
 “Ah, o'course.” Red Hood comments, voice getting closer again. “Hey, d'you think B will want to stick the Red Robin suit in a memorial case like what he did with my Robin suit?”
 “Hood!” Nightwing exclaims in a horrified and almost scandalised tone of voice.
 Red Hood snorts.
 Marinette flinches, and so does Tim beside her, although probably not for the same reasons as her. I don't think I'll ever get used to how flippantly Red Hood jokes about his death. Even if most Parisians who've died in Akuma attacks use the same sort of gallows humour.
 There's a few seconds of silence before someone grabs the Red Robin suit and yanks it upwards, causing Tim and Marinette to tumble out of it with a series of startled squeaks and clicks.
 Red Hood is the first to respond to the situation, with an eloquent, “what the fuck.”
 Marinette glances up and sees Kuro Neko holding the Red Robin suit and looking rather shell shocked, with Red Hood and Nightwing a few steps away.
 “Oh, thank fuck they're alive.” Nightwing half mumbles, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation.
 “My loves,” Kuro Neko murmurs leaning down and scooping up Marinette and Tim, “I'm so glad you're okay.”
 They both squirm for a minute before relaxing into her arms.
 Nightwing frowns. “We should bring them back to the cave, maybe call Zatanna and Wonder Woman.”
 “To the cave then.” Kuro Neko nods, hugging Marinette and Tim carefully, making sure not to accidentally hurt or squish them.
 Marinette looks up at her significant other and bleps. She then trills, content to be held for the journey back to the Batcave.
 Tim however, wrinkles his nose and chirrups in protest, he squirms and tries to escape Kuro Neko's hold—probably wanting to return to the Nest and deal with this on his own instead.
 Kuro Neko gives Tim a deadpan stare before expertly pinching the correct pressure point to temporarily paralyse him.
 Red Hood gives her a quizzical stare.
 “Akuma, as well as kwami.” She responds, sagely.
 “Right…” He slowly mutters, shaking his head.
 Marinette can't help but burst into laughter at that, only because she's currently a ferret-sized lung dragon, the laughter comes out as a stream of trills and chirps.
 Red Hood narrows his eyes at Marinette. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, danger noodle.”
 Marinette pouts, whilst internally promising herself that revenge will be swift and pasta themed.
==‹›==
 When they finally arrive back at the Batcave. They're greeted by the sight of Batman and Robin at the Batcomputer.
 Robin turns and sneers at them. “Of course, trust Drake to pull such an attention-grabbing stunt as this.”
Marinette immediately looks up from her snuggled up position in Kuro Nell's arms and hisses at Robin; Tim however, lets out a world-weary sigh.
 “Robin.” Barks Batman, but the reprimand does nothing to quell Robin's hostility.
 Fixing a glare at Robin, Kuro Neko starts to stroke Marinette's scales like an evil villain would stroke a cat (much to Marinette's delight). “Need I remind you, how you hesitated upon hearing Oracle inform us that Red Robin's suit ceased reading any signs of life.”
 “That was not hesitation! I was merely preparing for Grayson or Fatgirl to become hysterical in their distress.” Retorts Robin, who then stalks away, scowling and red-faced.
 Nightwing dithers between going after him or staying to check on Tim and Marinette.
 Kuro Neko shakes her head. “Go after him, Marinette and Tim will be fine without you hovering like a mother hen.”
 Nightwing flashes her a grateful smile and scampers after Robin.
 Kuro Neko then heads over to the medical bay and gently plonks the two dragons onto a cot. “Batman, I believe we will need to do as Nightwing suggested earlier, and call Zatanna and Wonder Woman. As this is a magic situation and I am not as skilled or knowledgeable in regards to magic as my love is.”
 “Hhrrm,” Batman growls, already calling up the Watchtower.
 Kuro Neko smiles softly as she glances down at her significant others, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Let's hope they arrive soon, otherwise who knows what sort of trouble you two could get into.” She winks.
 Marinette chirps, tail flicking side to side eagerly. Whilst Tim perks up slightly and tilts his head to the side, mind probably racing with hundreds of pranks and shenanigans they could pull off whilst in dragon form.
==‹›==
| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |
| @maribat-march2020 | | @vixen-uchiha |
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