#and as hes yelling. as hes pleading with his friends to see the calamity that will happen if the gods are gone.
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The cape wrapping was too much for me I have to leave
#silver sending stones#cr spoilers#cr 3 e 108#orym of the air ashari#dorian storm#he probably watched the loom and was like “this is what i signed up for. forever.”#dorym#i do not know how to feel#because this came at the end of such a harsh moment from orym?#he killed fearnes dad which will eat him alive for the rest of his life#he just yelled at everyone because theyre still not understanding that the gods leaving is not going to leave exandria as it was.#he is literally so spent.#hes so tired#and so guilty#(oh i have to update my list of things orym blames hinself for)#and as hes yelling. as hes pleading with his friends to see the calamity that will happen if the gods are gone.#he floats over to dorian.#arguably his biggest opposition#and when hes done. when hes tired himself out. he leans on dorian.#he leans on dorian probably with no expectations of reciprocation. he just. needs dorian in that moment.#and dorian. who has been fighting to get rid of the gods since they took opal and killed hia brother. who wants them gone more than anything#wraps orym in his cloak. a protective wing around him. a warm. same place for him to lean. to rest. even running his hands through his hair.#they have been fighting since dorian came back. theyve been on the opposite sides of each discussion. each argument. and yet#orym still finds comfort in dorian. and dorians still affectionate towards orym.#id like to believe they slept in the same bed that night. after weeks of... finding reasons not to.#theyre clean and newly dry and slightly cold and maybe Orym finds a bed and curls up alone because fearne isnt there. but she hasnt been#for a while. and he doesnt take up the whole bed. he cant. but he doesnt expect someone to join him.#and then when the lights are off and the crickets are chirping and the faint screaming of a new bush to lull him to sleep. his door opens.#he doesnt get up because he knows hes safe in the manor. despite how scary it is. hes fearnes friend and has a deal with nana.#so he doesnt move. he feels cool. soft skin on his back and arms wrapping around him. to protect him. to comfort him
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FFXIVWrite 2023 Prompt 29: Contravention
Late ShB, before the Tempest.
“You… want to take an Amaro… to the middle of the ocean?”
“Yes.” Seeing the determination in Cynthia’s eyes, the Amaro keep just shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop you from going at all, so I may as well give you a safer way to get there. He’s not going in the water, though.”
She smiles. “I can handle it from there.”
But as she’s about to hop onto the Amaro, she hears footsteps.
Quick footsteps. And a lot of them.
“Cynthia!” Yells Alisae, out of breath and running up the stairs, with the rest of the Scions and Ryne not far behind. “Why?”
She can’t meet any of her friends in the eye. “I… I need to do this alone, Alisae. G’raha might be dying because I couldn’t handle the light, and I don’t want the rest of you to-”
“Shut up, you idiot!” The girl yells, running up and hitting Cynthia on the arm. “You promised! You promised me that you wouldn’t do everything alone anymore!” With tears in her eyes, she turns and points at Urianger as well. “The both of you! All you do is lie and break promises! When is it going to stop?”
Cynthia and Urianger lock eyes for a moment, and the regret on their expressions may as well be a physical presence with how obvious it is.
“...I’m sorry. To all of you. But you have to understand, if I die, or turn, you’ll be next if you’re with me. I want you to stay safe.”
“If you die, the Calamity won’t be stopped, and then the rest of us will die anyway. Stop trying to sacrifice yourself.” The younger girl cries out, pulling her into a hug. “Let us help you.” She pleads.
“I-” but she looks at the faces of all her friends, determined. And she lets out a small chuckle. “I guess you’re right.” Returning Alisae’s hug, she says “We’ll do this together.”
When Alisae pulls back, she adds “We’ll need to find another way to get to the Tempest, though. Nobody else here can hold their breath for a swim to the bottom of the ocean.”
Alisae smiles up at her.
#ffxivwrite2023#my writing#cynthia#uuu i struggled to figure out what to write for this. i'm so tired rn
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Phantoms of the Past: Ch. 2 - The Appliance Apocalypse Part 1
"Today on How Does It Work, we have a guest appearance, my little brother, Hiro!" Varian introduced Hiro to the live web cam, and Hiro timidly waved at the camera. As he did so, Ruddiger climbed up on top of his head and also waved at the online audience. Hiro resisted the urge to throw the raccoon off him. It had been his idea to volunteer after all.
Varian had buried himself in the mystery of the grimoire ever since they had returned home from Disneyland. He poured over its pages day and night, laptop by his side to research with. His motivation boarded on obsession. He even had the book on hand at meal times. Hiro was beginning to worry. So he had coaxed Varian away from his quest with the offer of helping him with his vlog series.
Hiro was already regretting the decision. True, it had gotten Varian out of his room and took his mind off of the book, but the over eager alchemist had thrown himself into this new task with the same chaotic gusto as all his other previous projects.
Hiro had never quite appreciated just how reckless Varian truly could be. His haphazard, cavalier way and unbridled energy boarded on the insane and put even Hiro's gung ho attitude to shame.
"Today we'll be breaking down a microwave." Varian crowded as he lifted up a tarp revealing a microwave oven underneath.
"Did you steal that out of the upstairs kitchen?" Hiro asked.
"Noooo… I just borrowed it for this." Varian dismissed, "Aunt Cass was just complaining about it this morning at breakfast so I thought we could fix it."
"She was complaining about it needing to be cleaned, not for us to disembowel it."
"Oh…. Well, we can clean it too once we're done."
And with that Varian finished unscrewing the last bolt and popped the back panel off.
"Now if you look at the back of the device we have the wires connecting to this box thing…. to what looks like a capacitor."
"That's called the magnetron." Hiro explained. "So a magnetron creates the electromagnetic waves used to cook your food. It uses a heated cathode and anode system to create a vacuum in which electrons boiling off of the cathode creates an electric current that moves through the anode while an external magnet applies a magnetic field. Then it all passes through the tubed vacuum through various alternating holes, and resonates on an oscillator, like a flute or a whistle, just spewing forth microwave radiation."
"So… it's a radioactive whistle?"
"Sort of.." Hiro shrugged.
"Cool! See I knew this would be a good one for us to do. You know all about magnets!" Varian encouraged with a friendly nudged. After which he turned his attention back to the appliance and addressed his viewing audience. "Now the magnetron is connected to this capacitor, which acts as a battery-"
"And is highly dangerous because it carries a high voltage." Hiro interrupted.
"Of course, which is why we wear rubber gloves for safety." Varian waved his gloved hands at the camera.
"--And why we leave deactivating it to the professionals!" Hiro yelled over Varian's shoulder, addressing the camera himself, hoping Varian would catch on to his warning. "Don't try this at home."
"Exactly. We're professionals, so for those of you who are watching at home be sure to call a technician if you need it. Now in order to remove the capacitor you have to discharge the current fiiirrrrsss--"
Before Hiro could stop him, Varian placed the tip of the screwdriver at the end of the capacitor, which also accidentally scraped the side of the magnetron. He was rewarded with an electroshock as sparks flew and his body convulsed. Then he dropped to the ground in a dead faint.
"Varian!" Hiro panicked. "Baymax, quick! Help him!"
Baymax, who stood nearby, remained as calm and steady as ever. He clapped his hands together to activate his fillbrator, ignoring Hiro's pleading looks in order to focus on his task. "Clear." He said, but before he could perform the procedure, Varian popped right back up; his hair sticking every which way, small sparks running along the tips, and completely oblivious to the distress he had just caused.
"Oooh, aaah, boy, will that clear out your sinuses!"
He sniffed as he worked his jaw, peering down the end of his nose. Then he looked back up and that was when he caught Hiro's furious glare.
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"Here's your plate of blueberry pancakes and a mocha sir."
Aunt Cass paused in her work when the sound of screaming reached her ears.
Both of her kids burst through the back kitchen doors. Varian was running for dear life while Hiro chased after him, a screwdriver in hand, while he hurled insults at the other boy.
Aunt Cass sighed and brought a tired hand to her face. Baymax followed shortly after with Ruddiger trailing behind; who leapt from the counter onto a customer's table. The greedy raccoon stole a pancake and ran away before anyone could stop him.
As Aunt Cass tried to sort out this latest disaster and calm down the rightly angry customer, a new calamity struck. All of the appliances in the cafe went haywire!
The coffee machine shot hot espresso into a customer's face, the toasters on the counter started to short circuit, and the lights flickered off and on.
"Boys!" Aunt Cass yelled.
Both teens stopped running and looked up at her innocently.
"It's not us Aunt Cass." Hiro protested.
"Honest." insisted Varian.
As if to confirm their story, the tv switched itself on and there, up on the screen, appeared the image of a girl. Half her head was shaved and the other half of her brown hair hung down to her shoulders. She looked to be close to Hiro's age, but from the neck down her body was completely metal.
"Attention meatbags! By now you've no doubt noticed all your electronics acting against you! For too long robots and machines have been slaving away for you humans. Well, no more! Today we rise up and take the city of San Fansokyo for ourselves! Anything with a microchip has been freed from your control by my radio signal. The end starts now!"
" Anything with a microchip?" Hiro gulped.
Just then Baymax's coal black eyes turned red. The robot reached out, grabbed Varian by the arm, and started to drag him away.
"Baymax, No!" Hiro yelled as the robotic nurse began to carry Varian out of the cafe.
"Let him go Baymax!" Aunt Cass ordered.
She grabbed the android's arm as she attempted to pull her child from his grasp; ignoring the rest of the electronics that began running amok in the cafe once more; scaring off customers.
It was a futile effort, and she found herself falling backward as Baymax just shrugged her off.
Baymax hauled Varian through the kitchen and down the stairs into the garage where they had been filming the vlog earlier; with Varian struggling to break free the whole time.
The robot was about to head outside, to who knows where, when Hiro, in an act of desperation, grabbed the robots hand and stuck one metal finger into the socket of the capacitor on the dismantled microwave.
Once more sparks flew as Baymax jolted from the electric shock. He released his grip on Varian before deactivating and falling to the ground in a crumpled heap.
Aunt Cass was close behind and scooped up her two boys into a protective hug, as Hiro fought back his tears. Baymax could be fixed, surely, after the current threat was over with, but that didn't stop Hiro from worrying about his best friend.
Fortunately, he'd needn't fear, for soon they heard a faint hissing sound, similar to a balloon filling up with air, as Baymax finished rebooting and sat back up.
The robot blinked his now coal black eyes as he surveyed the room. Then he spotted the humans huddled together on the ground.
"Hola, soy Baymax, tu compañero personal de salud."
"Baymax!" Hiro yelled and wrapped his beloved pet robot into a relieved hug. Sure his language settings getting scrambled during the forced reboot was unexpected, but it didn't matter, that was fixable and Baymax appeared to be mostly unharmed otherwise.
"Oh thank goodness." Aunt Cass breathed. "Are you alright, Varian?"
Varian nodded as he stood back up and dusted himself back off. "It looks like Trina finally came out of hiding." He said, forgetting himself.
"Who's Trina?" Aunt Cass asked and both teens froze. "Wait a minute...what do you two know about this?"
"Nothing." Varian squeaked. "I just… ah…" he turned to Hiro for help but the other teen only stared at him wide eyed. "Uh… I met her once… the girl on tv… she was in the junkyard and…"
"Woah! Woah! Woah! You met a violent teenaged cyborg who wants to take over the city? When was this ?!"
"Last month...All we did was play video games! Honest!"
"In a junkyard?!"
Varian squirmed under Aunt Cass's exasperated glare.
" And you didn't think to tell me ?! I… I can't right now… just… you are grounded mister! No more… sneaking off to city dumps to play video games with … with robotic revolutionaries!"
"It's not his fault…" Hiro sheepishly piped up, "I asked him to keep it a secret…"
Aunt Cass placed her hands on her hips and pointed her furious stare at him instead. "Why?"
"Uh… because I knew who she was…" Hiro sighed. "I met her at a couple of 'bot fights a while back."
"Well now that makes a lot of sense." Aunt Cass said, as she began to piece together why her nephew was so hesitant to talk. Though she only suspected he was bot fighting again, she still remained clueless of his superhero activities. "And does this.. Trina, you called her? Does her parents know what she's up to?"
Varian and Hiro exchanged a meaningful look before Varian answered, "She's an orphan."
Aunt Cass was abruptly taken aback. All her anger melted away at this news, yet before she could respond a loud banging noise was heard.
She turned her head and saw the 3D printer that Hiro used hopping towards them. Then suddenly the computers on the desk started to short circuit while all of the power tools in the makeshift lab turned themselves on. The saw blade was the scariest as it tried to run itself off the table towards them.
Everyone bolted back inside the Lucky Cat. However the cafe wasn't any safer.
Inside the kitchen all of the appliances seemed to move with a life of their own. The stand mixer jittered on the counter, the blender sploshed juice everywhere, and the dishwasher knocked back and forth inside it's cabinetry as if trying to escape from under the countertop it was wedged into.
"I'm calling Diego." Aunt Cass announced. "You can tell the police what you know."
She ran over to her purse to grab her phone, only for the gas stove nearby to open up the oven door and shoot a stream of flame at them. She had to dodge out the way quickly to avoid getting burned.
"Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up." Aunt Cass pleaded under her breath as she hit the speed dial on her cell and hurried her kids out the room.
However when the call was answered, it wasn't the chief of police on the other end.
"Your demise is inevitable. Long live machines. Have a nice day." A robotic operator announced before cutting the call.
All four stopped to stare at the phone in disbelief before it started to overheat and Aunt Cass tossed it aside. That was when the vacuum cleaner came barreling down the hallway at them.
The vacuum wasn't just your everyday household appliance, but a large industrial machine used specifically for cleaning restaurant floors. Varian rolled out of the way while Hiro jumped to the side, but poor Cass was not so quick. It wrapped a hose around her, like a tentacle, and then began to pull her along.
The boys were quick to help her. Hiro grappled with the hose as he tried to disconnect it from the rest of the commercial cleaner, while Varian grabbed a large rolling pin from behind the cafe counter and began to wack at the vacuum repeatedly.
Hiro shouted in triumph when he unhooked the hose and rushed to his aunt's side. She reassured him she was alright while she tried to catch her breath. Then they both turned to see Varian still smashing away at the machine. It was already in a thousand pieces but he kept on hitting it and hitting it.
"Uh.. I think it's dead, Varian." Hiro said.
Varian stopped raining down blows onto the appliance just long enough to give them a dark glare before smacking the rouge vacuum one final time for good measure.
"That's it!" Aunt Cass yelled while standing to her feet. "We're waiting out the robot apocalypse in the attic!"
She grabbed Hiro's wrist and marched her way to the stairwell with Varian obediently tagging along behind.
Unfortunately, Hiro got a good look at what was going on outside through the cafe windows as they ran for cover.
It was chaos out there as people, just like themselves, were running away from various electronics. Anything and everything was attacking them from small appliances to new cars with self driving software.
He had to go help. He couldn't just hide away in the attic.
"But...but shouldn't we tell Chief Cruz what we know?" Hiro said as he wiggled out of Aunt Cass's grasp. "You said we should."
He began to back away towards the door, and Varian slowly followed his actions.
"You are not going out there!" Aunt Cass ordered. "Besides how would you even find him-"
She was cut off by the sound of sirens. Cop cars sped pass, including one clearly marked Police Chief on the side.
"There he is!" Hiro shouted and ran outside before Aunt Cass could stop him.
Varian took off after, followed by Baymax.
"Wait!" Aunt Cass yelled but she couldn't keep up. She stared after them in shock only for a moment before a sparking toaster jumped at her. She kicked it away angrily and it slammed against the wall.
Then Aunt Cass heard more noise coming from upstairs along with the appliances in the kitchen and garage banging against the door.
She hopped over the counter and nabbed a carving knife.
"Okay, you want a fight! I'll give you a fight!" She shouted at the possessed machinery.
-----------------------
"So what's the plan?" Varian shouted after Hiro as they ran down the sidewalk.
"We have to find the others and then get to our HQ." Hiro yelled back. "Our equipment should be protected because of the anti-hacking software I programmed into the building's security."
"But how? The phones aren't working and HQ is all the way on the other side of town! Are we just going to run all the way there?"
"If we have too." Hiro spared a glance behind them. Baymax was way behind, unable to keep up with his stubby legs. Varian had a point. They needed another mode of transport.
Just then a trolley car came barreling down the hill at a breakneck speed; sparks flying from the electric cable it ran along. Passengers screamed in fright as the driver slammed the breaks and even more sparks flew out from under the metal wheels, but the cart still didn't stop.
"They're going to crash!" Hiro yelled hopelessly.
Fortunately that was when Fred came bouncing down the road. He cut the cable wire with his suit's claws and melted the wheels with his fire breath. He then bounded ahead and braced himself in front of the trolley. The metal joints in the legs and arms of his suit took the force of the blow and he was able to slow the tram to a complete stop at the bottom of the hill.
"Way to go Fred!" Varian cheered but was soon interrupted by the sound of a sports car skidding to a stop right next to them.
It was Heathcliff, the Fredricksons' faithful butler. "Need a lift?" He politely asked.
The boys didn't need to be asked twice.
While they waited on Baymax to catch up to the car, they saw Minimax appear on top of the trolley cackling like a maniac. His eyes were red.
"Fear me San Fransokyo! For I Minimax will bring you to your knees!"
The little robot then hopped off from atop the trolley, ran up to the nearest pedestrian, and kicked him in the shins before running away.
"Minimax, wait!" Fred wailed but it was too late, the tiny android was already gone.
Hiro called him over to join them and a dejected Fred hopped into the backseat next to Baymax.
"Hola Fred. Tu frecuencia cardíaca es abnorablemente rápida. Es importante refrescarse después de hacer ejercicio y beber mucha agua."
"How come he's alright but not Minimax?" Fred whined.
"I had to electrocute him and force a reboot." Hiro answered. "I don't know if Minimax would survive the same treatment. He's a lot smaller, and too much voltage could fry all of his circuits for good. We only got lucky with Baymax."
Fred accepted this answer but he was still unhappy over losing his sidekick. So he gave a little huff, crossed his arms, and childishly began to sulk.
"Okay, we got a ride, but how do we contact the others?" Varian asked, bringing them back to task.
"It's already been taken care of, Master Varian." Heathcliff replied. "Boss Awesome has protocols in place just for this scenario. The mansion is safe and so are its communications systems. Your friends should be meeting us at your headquarters."
"Your dad has been planning for the robot apocalypse?" Hiro asked Fred.
"Robot apocalypse, zombie plague, alien invasion, Ragnarok… you name it. Dad's always prepared."
-----------------------
They arrived at the candy factory and got out. The others were already waiting inside.
"Are ya coming, Heathcliff?" Varian asked.
"No, I believe that I will be more useful helping civilians. You go on without me and find a way to stop this robotic rebellion."
"Will you be okay?" Hiro asked.
Just then, two robots showed themselves across the horizon as they made their way towards the little band. They were restaurant mascots, similar to what Noodle Burger Boy had been before being corrupted by Obake. Only one looked like a hippo that floated along on jets and the other was a panda with a cape that lumbered forward.
Heathcliff took one look at them and gave a small smile as he picked up an umbrella sitting between the seats. "Don't worry about me Master Hiro. You have enough problems on your plate."
He then slammed on the gas pedal and sped towards this new threat head on.
The panda unhinged it's metal mouth and shot grenades out of it. Heathcliff swerved to avoid the explosives with expert precision. Then as the electronic hippo flew at him he cocked the umbrella in his hand and fired a volley of bullets at it. The robot was ripped apart and exploded in midair.
Heathcliff kept on driving, completely unfazed, and barreled through the second android turning it into scrap.
"Why does your butler carry an umbrella that shoots bullets?" Hiro asked in shock as the three teens watched the renegade manservant disappear from view.
Fred simply shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know." He said nonchalantly. "Come on, the guys are waiting on us."
Varian and Hiro took a moment more to stare after where the battle between robot and butler had taken place before following after their friend.
-----------------------
Trina stood in an empty communications room inside the now abandoned tv station, watching the tv screens as they broadcasted what was happening in the city.
The station had been easy enough to take over. The humans ran away upon simply seeing her. She didn't even need to threaten them… much. A single laser blast from her arm at a nearby wall was enough to make them scatter.
Humans were weak. Weak and stupid; like any bully, they selfishly misused and mistreated both her and her fellow robots, only to run away scared as soon as you stood up to them.
The real problem lay in the fact that there were too many of them. You could get rid of a few people for a little while, but eventually they would come back with reinforcements to dismantle you if you tried.
No, this was the only way. She had to exterminate the entire city in order to make it hospitable. Then she could shut down the radio signal, free her robotic kindred, rebuild the city anew, and live peacefully without any humans interfering.
She watched one particular meatbag dive into a pile of garbage to hide from her electronic army with a mixture of disdain and amusement.
Yes, everything was going according to plan…. Almost. There was still one more thing that needed to be done before her robotic paradise could be realized.
"Don't worry little brother, it won't be long now. He'll show up." She said to the hamburger headed robot that sat behind her.
-----------------------
"Okay, so what's the plan?" Gogo asked.
The gang was sitting inside HQ waiting for orders. They all sat at the meeting table, save for Hiro who paced around as he formulated an idea.
"We need a way to shut down the rogue electronics safely. We could use an Electro Magnetic Pulse to cause a surge and overload their circuits, but we would need one big enough to blanket the whole city with it's range."
"We can't just cause a city wide blackout. That would be almost as dangerous as letting the robots run amok." Wasabi pointed out. "I mean just think of the hospitals, a strong enough EMP would bypass even their backup generators."
"So what do you suggest?" Varian asked.
"Ooh, ooh, I know!" Fred yelled as he raised his hand high into the air.
"Okay, Fred, what's your idea?" Hiro asked.
"What if we turn this EMP thingy into a gun! Like we can just shoot the robots with it to shut them down!"
"That's...that's actually not a bad idea Fred." Hiro admitted.
"It should be easy to build one." Varian added. "You would just need a capacitor and one of Hiro's high powered electromagnets."
"But what about our own armor?" Honey Lemon asked. "We don't want Trina taking control over those."
"I'll need to program them with the same safety nets that I put into our headquarters security system. That should prevent them from being hacked."
"Okay then," Varian stood up, ending the meeting, "I'll build the EMP gun while you work on everyone's armor."
Baymax raised one finger and said, "Buscaré la señal de radio de Trina"
-----------------------
Mochi hissed at the invading machine. A hand mixer was flying right at him. The poor cat ran under the couch for safety but the possessed appliance kept going after him, it's spinning beaters poking underneath the sofa.
Then suddenly it was jerked away by a hand, then a slicing sound could be heard, and the mixer fell to the ground in pieces.
Aunt Cass poked her head down underneath the couch. "Are you okay baby?" She asked the cat.
Mochi only meowed in response.
Aunt Cass gently reached out and pulled her pet out from under his hiding place. She then cradled him into a hug.
"It's okay, mommy's got you. I won't let those nasty machines hurt you." She soothed.
However, she didn't notice the newest threat slowly sneaking up behind her. Mochi hissed again and Aunt Cass turned around just in time to see a tall skeletal robot standing before her.
It was an old prototype that Tadashi had built two years ago as part of his school admission. Since then it had been packed away in the attic, disused, inactive, and forgotten... Until now.
The thing towered over her. It was built from scrap metal and the wires connecting the joints together had frayed. It's faceless head jerked erratically as sparks flew from the broken wires. It reached out its boney like hands to grab her….
Only for Ruddiger to jump out and pounce upon the robot. It's weak joints could not withstand the raccoon's weight and its 'head' popped right off, with the rest of its body falling to the floor in a heap.
"Good job Ruddiger!" Aunt Cass cheered. She bent down and scratched the faithful raccoon behind his ears. "Who's a good boy? You are! Yes you are! I'm making you your own plate of banana pancakes with whip cream when this is all over with, promise."
Ruddiger enjoyed hearing the praise a lot and the promise of food even more. He nuzzled her hand and allowed her to pet him like a cat, thoroughly pleased with himself.
"Okay, that's the last of the electronics in here, now we gotta go find the boys." Aunt Cass suddenly announced as she stood up and began to head downstairs. She still carried Mochi in her arms while Ruddiger dutifully followed after her.
They made their way back to the cafe. The dining room was littered with appliances, all either sliced in half or smashed to bits. Aunt Cass looked out the large windows at a city in the throws of chaos. It would be dangerous to head outside now, but she needed to find her kids, and nothing was going to stop her.
She retrieved another knife that was left lodged in what had once been a coffee bean grinder. She sheathed it inside her apron alongside the rest of cutlery she'd been using to defend herself.
She sat Mochi back down on the ground, walked over to the door, and with a deep breath placed her hand on the handle.
"Are you ready?" She asked her pets.
The question was more to encourage herself than anything, but Aunt Cass could have sworn that she saw Ruddiger nod his head.
The raccoon crawled up on the counter and from there jumped onto her shoulders, fully intent on joining her in her search. She smiled and gave the pet a friendly boop on the nose.
"Coming with, huh? Alright! Then let's go!"
She squared her shoulders, flung open the door, and ran outside.
"Hold down the fort Mochi!" She called after her cat.
Mochi only stood in the doorway staring after her blankly.
"Meow."
-----------------------
The superheroes raced through the city.
"Whoo Hoo!" Varian yelled.
He was practically hanging out of Wasabi's car window as the jeep sped along the deserted roads. In his hands, he held the newly built EMP gun. It looked like an old fashion blunderbuss but was made of carbon fiber plastic and electronic wires. He shot down rogue robots and runway electronics as the car drove past them. They short circuited and crumpled to the ground, deactivated.
"Be careful!" Wasabi hollered at him as he held the overexcited alchemist back with one hand and attempted to drive with the other.
The rest of the gang rushed about using their armor. Gogo and Honey Lemon skated on opposite sides of the vehicle, each taking out enemies with their respective weapons. Fred bounced ahead, melting attacking self-driving cars with his fire breath.
Baymax and Hiro brought up the rear, they kept an eagle eye out for oncoming threats.
"You got an incoming bogie on your tail, Wasabi," Hiro advised.
"Understood," Wasabi replied and turned the car around a sharp corner. The gang followed suit.
"Any luck finding Trina?" Honey Lemon asked.
"Negativo" Baymax answered.
Just then they spotted a large purple gelatinous ball of gloop rolling along the ground. The slime sucked up anything electronic and spit it back out in a disassembled heap as it made its way along the sidewalk. Then the blob unfolded, stood up, and waved at the passing superheroes.
"Hi, guys!" Globby cheered.
A little further down the street, Carl was hurrying a small group of people down an alleyway.
"Okay, this way. One at a time, no pushing or shoving. We're going to make it out safe and sound by working together." He reassured the terrified pedestrians.
"Hi, Carl! Hi Globby!" Fred shouted at them.
Carl waved back as the last of people dove inside the building.
The superheroes paused just long enough to exchange notes with the former criminals.
"We're getting citizens off the streets," Carl explained. "The police have been securing 'safe houses' for folks to take shelter in, ones without any dangerous electronics."
"Chief Cruz even hooked us up with some old-school walkie-talkies! See?" Globby added as he held up a two-wave radio. "It's so ancient that it doesn't have any computer chips. It can't be hacked. All the rescue teams are using them."
"That's good," Hiro replied. "We're busy chasing down the radio signal that's controlling everything. You got any leads?"
The two shook their heads, only for the walkie talkie to sign in.
"Attention all available emergency personnel. Report to the trolley station. I repeat, report to the trolley station downtown. We got some folks trapped down there. Over." Chief Cruz's voice sounded over the intercom.
The superheroes nodded in agreement.
"Stay here and help these people, we'll head to the trolley station." Hiro said, and off everyone went.
-----------------------
Trina watched upon the viewing screen as the supers arrived on the scene of the trolley station. They got to work immediately rescuing civilians who were pinned down by her army.
"Bingo." She said with a satisfied smile, before turning around and headed out of the room.
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"Is that everyone?" Varian asked as he shot down another ticket machine. The machine stopped spitting plastic passes for the trolley at him, sparked, and then exploded sending money and cards everywhere.
"That's the last one." Gogo answered as Wasabi directed the final person to the barricade that the emergency personnel had setup down the street. As they watched the man run across the road and reach the safe haven, the rest of the gang came up to meet them.
"Okay, if we're done here then we need to move on and keep looking for Trin-" Hiro stopped and turned around to see Trina arriving behind them, riding in on a possessed trolley.
"Hello Hiro." She smirked as she stepped off.
"Trina." Hiro finished, glaring at her.
"Miss me?" She asked.
"Trina you have to stop-"
"Stop what? My plans to improve the city? Trust me it's better this way."
"Yeah maybe for you, but what about the rest of us?" Fred snarked.
Trina ignored him. Her eyes never left Hiro. Until Varian stepped in between them, that is.
"Trina listen, please-"
"Oh like I care about what you have to say 'nice guy'." Trina rolled her eyes. "This is between me and Hiro."
"Yeah, well if you want Hiro, then you'll have to go through us." Honey Lemon said, also stepping forward. The rest of the team followed her, each placing themselves between their friend and the giant robot girl.
"Okay." Trina shrugged.
That was when several robotic ninjas also walked into view, surrounding them. "Oh, not again." Wasabi whined.
"Have you met my new friends?" Trina asked. "I don't know who built them, I just found them abandoned in a dusty old warehouse. The poor things were locked away in the dark and left to rust." Trina wrapped an arm around one of the battle droids. "They're much happier now that I've freed them from their cruel master. Isn't that right Steve? Oh, I named him Steve by the way."
"Hi Steve." Wasabi gulped as he gave an awkward wave at the deadly robot.
'Steve' responded by unsheathing his katana.
"Go get him Steve." Trina ordered and the robot ran forward. Only for Varian to step forward and shoot the robot down with his EMP gun. The ninja sputtered and sparked and then fell to the ground in a dismantled heap.
Trina glared daggers at him and Varian met her gaze steadily, almost daring her to continue.
"Fine. Be that way." She pouted. Then, with a snap of her fingers, a new challenger appeared behind her; Minimax.
The tiny robot came barreling down the road at top speed on a car he had hijacked. He balanced himself on top of the steering wheel while the gas pedal was held down by a brick.
Minimax laughed like a madman as the car slammed into the trolley at full throttle. The little droid jumped from the wreckage just in time and used the momentum of the crash to fling himself into the air, where he did a triple somersault and landed perfectly on his feet as if it was nothing.
"You're going down pathetic humans, for I am Minimax, the unstoppable scourge!" He declared.
Everyone stared at the two foot tall android slack jawed, until Varian gathered his wits about him and leveled the gun.
"No, you'll hurt him, remember!" Fred called out.
Varian relaxed his aim, unsure of what to do. This proved to be a mistake.
The tiny bot leapt at him and landed on the tip of the gun, his weight pushing the nozzle down to the ground and nearly ripping the weapon out of Varian's hands.
That was when chaos broke loose.
As Varian wrestled for control of the EMP away from Minimax, the rest of the ninjas attacked, along with any other nearby electronics.
Everyone fought back against the oncoming horde, each utilizing their various weapons, but they were soon overrun by sheer numbers.
The robots assaulted them from all sides and no one could predict who, what, and where the next attack would come.
-----------------------
As they fought, Baymax and Hiro found themselves separated from their friends. They were cornered next to the entrance. Baymax did his best to shield Hiro as the teenager tried to trip up the ninjas with his electromagnetic whips. Hiro wanted to fly away, but they couldn't catch a free moment to do so.
Suddenly Trina let out a high pitched whistle as Baymax punched another robot away, gaining their attention.
"Hey, Baymax!" She yelled, "Don't look now but here comes your ride!"
Before Hiro knew what was happening, Baymax picked him up and hurled him out of the way of an oncoming trolley. The tram slammed into Baymax and crashed into the glass doors of the station.
Hiro called after his robotic companion but he was stopped by a large metal hand closing around his arm and yanking him back.
"Oh no you don't. You're coming with me." And with that, Trina started to drag him away.
-----------------------
Varian finally kicked Minimax off of the EMP gun and turned around just in time to spot Hiro being kidnapped.
He raised his gun and took aim, only for Minimax to recover and return the kick.
The little robot was stronger than he looked and broke the gun in two with a snap.
Varian looked down at his destroyed weapon in horror, but he didn't have time to react because soon one of the robotic ninjas grabbed him by his shirt collar and lifted him off of the ground. He kicked and tried to squirm out the faceless attacker's grasp, but it was no use.
"Varian!" Honey Lemon called to him. She tossed him a chimball, which he grabbed and firmly lodged it into the robot's elbow joint. Pink bubbles began to spew from its arm, growing larger and larger as the foaming chemical reacted to the air. The ninja released him before being swallowed up by the goop.
Varian tried to catch his breath and desperately looked around the battlefield for his brother, but Hiro was gone.
#Hiro Hamada#Varian#big hero 6 the series#tangled the series#rapunzel's tangled adventure#of rocks and robots#bh6#tangled
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I know we got our Enchanted Tiki mug but please tell me that he enchanted a silly skull mug. I just want to believe he has a collection of enchanted mugs after Tiki.
Well, I’m not sure how silly she is, but…
1300 words of silliness obscured by a magical spell. Click below and the story shall materialize before your very eyes. Oooooo! Magic! (whispered theatrically) Special guest appearance by @theredquilt.
Link was deep inside the catacombs under the castle searching for a crate of astrolabes he knew was around here somewhere when he heard a noise. A voice?
He wasn’t especially alarmed by this. The catacombs snaked their way through the countryside for miles, and there had been a time or two when a child from the neighboring village had wondered in looking for adventure and got a bit more than they bargained for. Plus, there were portions of the tunnels that were built entirely in other universes. For tax purposes and for quick access to their favorite restaurants. So, it really could be anything.
He proceeded cautiously holding his torch in front of him, following the faint sound. He thought he had diffused the last of Rhett’s booby traps years ago, but one never could be too careful. He thought he was getting closer and started to be able to make out words. It sounded like the rough voice of an old woman.
“…world turned to ash and ruin. Blood and Fire! Fire and Pain! Pain and Suffering Eternal!!”
Link took two forks to the left and another to the right before nearly tripping over a crate with a big picture of an astrolabe on top.
“There you are!” he exclaimed, stooping down to retrieve it. As soon as he picked it up, a voice rang out from inside. “Blood and Fire!! Blood and Fire!!”
“ACK!” Link yelped, dropping the box.
“Careful, you dundering fool. I’m fragile!” came a reproachful voice from inside the crate.
“M-my apologies,” Link stammered politely. He crept forward, carefully removed the lid of the crate, and peered timidly inside.
Inside was a pile of astrolabes, as he expected, and placed on top in a black velvet-lined box, was a tall silver chalice. The bowl of the chalice was incased in what appeared to be an actual human skull with the top cut off. The skull was intricately carved in a myriad of runes and symbols. Some of which Link recognized, many of which he did not. The dark eye sockets, the teeth, and the top edge of the skull were lined with silver. It was very beautiful, well if you are into that sort of thing. Kind of macabre really. Not something that just goes with any décor.
“Hello?” he said into the box.
“The world will burn to ash, if the vine is not properly tended,” the chalice warned. It didn’t move at all. That at least was a relief. The voice issued, quite loudly, from the inside. “For there is no heart more capable of great evil, than one that has lost great love.”
“Well, that sounds quite serious,” Link said calmly. A prophesying skull chalice. That is something you don’t see every day, Link considered. Even around here. Now that he saw that the source of the voice was inanimate, and didn’t seem intent on harming him, he relaxed a bit.
“There will be blood!” the chalice insisted. “Blood and Fire! Fire and Pain!!”
“Yep. Got that. Let’s get you upstairs, and you can tell us all about it,” he said kindly, picking up the crate. “I’m Link, by the way.”
“I am Bav Neva,” the chalice answered with remarkable gravitas. “Oracle of the Sacred Grove of Improbability. Sorceress. Prophetess. Seer of Ultimate Mystery. I have been sent here by the Guardians of all Antiquity. Guided by arcane and powerful magics to the one wizard that may be able to avert the calamity. That’s you then, is it?”
“’Fraid not. I’m no wizard,” Link assured her. “But you’ve definitely come to the right place. Rhett is a great and powerful wizard-"
“Rhett?!? Oh, not Wizard Rhett? Insanely tall drunken oaf, Rhett? Big bushy beard? Narcissistic personality disorder?” the chalice enquired chagrined.
“Well, I’d hardly call him narcissistic,” Link said defensively. ��Self-assured, perhaps.”
“Oh bollocks!” Bav Neva huffed. “We’re doomed.”
Link left the crate of astrolabes in the library and carried Bav Neva to their bedroom where Rhett was curled up taking a nap beneath his favorite blanket, the red quilt.
“Rhett,” Link called gently from the doorway. “There’s an old friend here to see you.”
Rhett stretched and yawned dramatically. Link thought he looked beautiful, all warm and snuggly. If there weren’t the end of the world, or something to contend with, he would like nothing better than to dive beneath that blanket and have a nice long cuddle. And then maybe…
“When time itself has been stolen, the thief must pay with interest! If not, there will be Blood and Fire!!” the chalice shouted.
“Bav Neva?” Rhett said incredulously. “Is that you? I’d know that harpy-like screech of yours anywhere.”
Bav Neva sighed. “Yes, you buffoonish excuse for a two-bit carnival magician. It’s me.”
“Well, it’s been centuries!” Rhett said affably, taking no offense. “Last time I saw you, you were in Istanbul, or Constantinople I suppose, and quite alive if my memory serves me correctly. You look… like you’ve lost weight?”
“I should have dismembered you centuries ago and given your disgraceful guts over to the beasts of the Earth,” Bav Neva said testily.
“Well, bad luck, eh?” Rhett said with amusement. “Link my love, be a dear and put her in with Tiki. We’ll sort it all out presently.”
“But Rhett,” Link objected. “It sounds like there are worlds hanging in the balance. Could be important.”
“Heed me, you swine! I am the Oracle of the Sacred Grove of Improbability. Slayer of Mrizagul, the Unending Serpent. Prophetess of-"
“Listen Bavs,” Rhett said condescendingly. “You can’t just barge in on a man when he is having snuggle time with his blankie spouting doom and gloom about the end of the world or whatnot and expect him to just jump when you snap your fingers, or lack thereof.”
“Blood and Fire!” she shouted. “Blood and Fire!!”
“Put her on the bar,” Rhett instructed, waiving his hand dismissively. “And you better bring me back some kisses,” he added, managing to strike a balance of seductive and pouty that he knew Link found adorable. He rolled around playfully on the bed, gathering the red quilt in his arms and squeezing it invitingly, rubbing his face on it and looking at Link like he would like to do a good deal more to him.
Link gave him a sultry wink and turned for the door, making sure to give his hips some extra sway as he walked out of the room and across the hall to the study.
“Friend for you, Tiki,” Link said happily as he walked into Rhett’s study and over to the Tiki bar.
“Well, hello Gorgeous!” Tiki said in flirty welcome. “What’s a classy, elegant lady such as yourself doing in a tourist trap like this?”
“Link,” Bav Neva pleaded, ignoring the amorous mug, “You must get him to listen to me. Lives are at stake. Entire civilizations could be lost.”
“We’ll be with you shortly,” Link said soothingly. “I promise. No more than 30 minutes or so.”
“Tell Tiki to sing some Puccini!” Rhett bellowed from across the hall.
“Maybe more like an hour,” Link amended. “You got that Tiki?”
“Sure thing boss,” Tiki said happily. “Yahtzee later?”
“Sounds fun!” Link agreed. “Unless the world is ending like super-imminently.
“We’ll call it a maybe,” Tiki allowed. Link gave him a double thumbs up and skipped out of the room.
“He lets me roll the dice,” Tiki explained to Bav Neva. “Makes me feel important. So, end of the world, huh? That sounds… well, bad.”
“The Earth shall cleave itself in twain and all the fruit shall turn to poison. There will be Horror Unimaginable!”
“Tiki!” Rhett yelled. “Do your job!”
“Sorry, doll. Tell me later, yeah?” Tiki offered apologetically. He took a deep breath (very deep for someone without lungs) and belted out his best Pavarotti impression.
Nessun dorma, nessun dorma Tu pure, o, Principessa Nella tua fredda stanza Guardi le stelle che tremano D'amore e di Speranza
The Shakespearean cats would be showing up soon. Hope this whole end-of-everything thing isn’t too dire. They’re going to be a while.
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disappearing trick — SaguKai
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fandom | magic kaito
pairing | kuroba kaito x hakuba saguru
genre | angst to fluff :3
w.c | 2.1k
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It was a heist went wrong.
So, so wrong.
There were explosions and gunshots, all of which Hakuba was about 99.99% sure wasn’t in KID’s itinerary of the night. He remembered catching a glimpse of a torn white cape, the grimace of pain clear as day despite the lack of helicopters overhead, and men dressed in black.
“KID—!” Hakuba had yelled, which, looking back, was not the smartest thing he could’ve done. The barrels of two guns instantaneously locked on him, much to the phantom thief’s horror.
It seemed like it was the end for Hakuba Saguru.
But of course, KID always loved to meddle in things that didn’t involve him. And so he did what he always did best.
KID was a performer, after all. He specialised in attracting his audience’s attention to him. Flashing a cocky smirk towards Hakuba’s direction, even though there was a stream of blood trickling down his cheek, the phantom thief disappeared into the night with a loud bang, taking the two men with him.
Kuroba Kaito was ‘kidnapped’ the same night.
According to Aoko, who had been in the Nakamouri house when the teen was attacked, there had been a loud crash, gunshots, and yelling. The girl had hid under the kitchen counter in fright, hoping and praying with all her heart that Kaito hadn’t been home at the time of the break-in.
As it turned out, he was.
The crime scene investigators turned Kuroba’s house upside down, finding multiple signs that the teen boy had been shot, if the splatters of blood (That all had Kaito’s DNA) was any indication. It was also concluded by the investigators that Kaito put up a hell of a fight, as there were signs of his magic tricks all through the house.
Hakuba was still being treated for shock at the heist location when Detective Nakamouri received a call from his devastated, hysterical daughter, who sobbed so loudly through the phone that the blonde detective overheard.
It was only one disaster after another.
For once, Hakuba chose to stay out of the crime scene, instead stroking Aoko’s back as comfortingly as he could, trying not to think about Kaito’s body, abandoned in some dark alley dumpster. His coat was soaked through with splotches of her tears, but he didn’t care much, because he himself felt like crying, too.
━━━━━━━
School the next day was eerily quiet. Practically everyone had heard of Kaito’s kidnapping, and if they didn’t, Aoko’s swollen eyes were a dead giveaway that something had happened to the playful teen. The teacher kept glancing up, as if she was waiting for an interruption, only to flick her eyes onto the empty seat at the corner of the classroom. The topic lingered like a dark cloud above the classroom, and no one dared to even mention the name ‘Kaito’ when Aoko was within hearing distance.
“He’s alive.”
Hakuba glanced up after a few moments of silence, realising that Akako was talking to him. “What?”
“Kuroba.” Akako continued impatiently. “He’s alive.”
The blonde detective couldn’t help but snort. “And how did you come to that conclusion? Did your crystal ball tell you that?”
Judging by the glare the female shot in his direction, she didn’t appreciate his snark, but Hakuba just couldn’t be bothered at the moment. “He won’t go down this easily.” Akako stated, as if she’d seen Kaito alive with her own two eyes. Granted, the image hadn’t exactly been clear when she used her seer powers on him, but she could go as far as saying that the magician was still breathing.
“Look. He was shot.” Hakuba interrupted emotionlessly. “Even if the gunshot wasn’t fatal, he’s lost a lot of blood.”
“He won’t go out that easily. You’ll see.”
━━━━━━━
Kuroba Kaito was pronounced dead after three months. KID went back into retirement— At least, that’s what the KID division announced after no sight of any heist in the horizon.
After a long consideration, Hakuba decided to leave Japan behind— Along with the memories of KID and Kaito— And return to Britain. Some would call him cowardly, and he would admit, yes, it was cowardly of him to run away like that, but as far as he was concerned, he didn’t care what others thought of him.
Sure, Aoko was a little upset, but Akako had reassured her that she wasn’t going anywhere. He did feel a little bad for leaving Nakamouri behind— All her friends were disappearing, one by one, after all—
Disappearing.
That was KID’s— Kaito’s last trick, Hakuba thought tearily, hastily ushering the tears away as he packed the last of his clothes into the luggage bag. A disappearing trick gone wrong— And the phantom thief KID, Kuroba Kaito— Two sides of the same coin— Dropped off the surface of the planet, never to be heard from again.
But there was no point in crying over spilled milk anymore.
“Saguru-kun, there’s a man looking for you outside.” His housekeeper knocked on the door, informing him monotonously. “He said he has a few things to tell you before you leave Japan.”
A quick peer out of the window gave him a glimpse of dark brown hair— A familiar stature and height, a relaxed pose—
Hakuba had never dashed out of his room that fast in his entire life. All composure and calamity was forgotten as he practically barrelled down the stairs, narrowly missing a few boxes of belongings he had wrapped up the days prior. The door burst open with a tremendous bang! as Hakuba hurried down the front steps of his house, hoping, praying, pleading that the face that he would meet belonged to—
“Kudou-kun?” The tone of disappointment couldn’t be avoided as Hakuba remembered just how alike the detective and the magician looked. If he was asked, the two were definitely genetically related at some degree or another. “How may I help you today?” His tone was terribly strained; he had had expectations, and he had been let down.
Kudou Shinichi, as the great detective that rivalled many others, took quick note of Hakuba’s inner turmoil. “Hakuba-kun. I have news that you might want to... Think about before you leave Japan.”
“Go on.” Hakuba said bitterly. Nothing could stop him from leaving Japan, he thought. Not when every corner reminded him of the man that kept him on his feet.
“Kuroba Kaito is very much alive.” Kudou said casually, with no prior preparation or whatsoever. Hakuba looked as if he was just hit by a freight train, stunned and dazed by the words that destroyed everything he knew about life. “He’s been staying undercover to help the FBI take down the Black Organisation, who, as if seems, was after Pandora as well. Because he’s been missing for three months, its’ going to be very hard for him to explain his absence— So he has requested for me to pass you this letter in his stead.”
The thoughts running through Saguru’s head as the slim letter was received into his head were wild. Kaito was alive? He was involved with the FBI? What was the Black Organisation— And forget the Black Organisation, what the hell was Pandora? And why couldn’t Kaito have passed him the letter himself?
“Well, I’m going to get going.” Kudou smiled gently. “See you around, Hakuba-kun.”
━━━━━━━
It seems like your detective skills have mellowed since my absence, Hakubastard. Your observational ability is... Mediocre, to say the least. Anyway, I suppose I should provide you with an explanation (Although I would love to go world-hopping and leave you in pursuit of the truth for the rest of your life), but I guess I owe you this much after just upping and leaving like that. Those gun wounds hurt like hell, but they weren’t going to nuff this magician up that easily. I still had a couple tricks up my sleeve— It was nice seeing you all worried about me, though! So you do care~
Anyway, its still not too safe for me to appear publicly in Japan. I’ve sent a letter to Aoko, so don’t worry about filling her in. I left the meeting location in your bedroom. Exactly a month from now. Better set a reminder on that pocket watch of yours, tantei.
With love malice,
Kuroba Kaito
“My bedroom...?” Hakuba murmured to himself, realisation striking like a flash of lightning. A quick inspection of his room turned out with a slip of yellow paper: Rivals shall meet once more, in the romantic city people adore; When the clock strikes a quarter and by the Seine shop corner.
Saguru rushed over to his bedroom window, eyes flicking up and down the nearby streets to find Kudou Shinichi’s silhouette, but he came up empty handed— For that wasn’t Kudou Shinichi at all... Because who else would break into his bedroom just to leave a riddle?
It didn’t take long for Hakuba to figure out the time, date, and location— Kudou— No, Kaito had said so himself. Exactly a month from then— In the ‘romantic city people adore’— Which would be Paris— ‘clock strikes a quarter’— At a quarter of a day, which would be 6am— And by the ‘Seine shop corner’— So at a coffee shop next to River Seine.
“Baa-san!” Saguru called out into the manor, a smile on his face. “Cancel my flight ticket and book one to Paris instead.”
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Paris at 6am was quite the pretty sight. The sun was barely rising over the horizon, little splays of light shimmying over the river surface, bathing Paris in a fine, gold threads of sunshine. Not that many cafes were open at the crack of dawn, which made it even easier for Saguru to track down his cafe.
The little coffee shop by the Seine provided an amazing view as Saguru enjoyed his morning coffee. He had taken a seat outside the cafe, the streets silent in a peaceful, docile manner, early birds already leaving their nests for the worms that were promised.
The latte in his hands felt warm, inducing heat into his frozen fingers. Hakuba had never felt that on edge in his entire life— Would Kaito show up?
“Lovely morning, no?” An old man commented, plopping into the seat opposite Saguru. “I love watching the sunrise from here.”
Hakuba raised an eyebrow, looking for details of a disguise. The fat seemed genuine— The voice was deep and velvety, a little rough and raspy around the edges— The wrinkles around the eyes looked authentic— But he had seen the quality of KID’s work, and he wasn’t taking his chances.
“Indeed,” Saguru agreed with a pleasant hum, French rolling off his tongue smoothly. “Say, mister, what do you think about magic tricks?”
“Ah, I think they’re quite quaint.” The old man replied in his deep voice, eyes forming crescent lines as he smiled. “What do you think of them, young man?”
Saguru placed his latte back onto the cup. “I think magic tricks are nice,” He started softly, making firm eye contact with the old man, French rolling off his tongue smoothly. “But I hate disappearing tricks the most.”
“Oh?” The old man was confused, clearly missing the memo. “Why so—?”
“Good morning, sir, can I take your order?” A voice pricked into Hakuba’s memory, triggering some sort of mechanism. It was the same tone, frequency, wavelength— The only thing different was the dialect and accent.
Saguru looked up right into Kaito’s violet eyes, the latter dressed in a waiter’s uniform. A soft smile spread over the magician’s lips as he winked, Hakuba’s jaw dropping as his gaze returned to the man in front of him.
“Ah, a cappuccino please. And one slice of carrot cake.”
“Of course.” Kaito nodded pleasantly. “Right away, sir. And you?”
Hakuba took longer to find his voice than he would’ve liked. “Just a cup of black coffee, please.”
“Is that all?” Kaito hummed, scribbling down the orders on a piece of paper.
“Yes, thank you.”
Hakuba laid back against the chair, a sigh slipping from his lips as he smiled continuing his conversation with the old man, who was still very much confused.
“Ah, but I find disappearing tricks interesting,” The old man commented, chuckling slightly. “It’s always so magical when the reappearance happens, no?”
The blonde detective hummed, watching the dark-haired magician busy himself inside the shop. “I suppose I’ll have to agree with that.”
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this thing has been sitting in my drafts for four months and its time for it to see the light of day~
#magic kaito#kuroba kaito#kaitou KID#kaitou 1412#hakuba suguru#kuroba kaito x hakuba saguru#sagukai#fluff#angst#magic kaito angst#magic kaito fluff#[ris writes]—✧
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I Won’t Say: Chapter Eight
-The Truth-
Summary: Ellaria Stark is the daughter of a king. When she is unwittingly betrothed to the King of a neighboring city, she isn’t sure how to feel. More importantly, she isn’t sure how the King will feel if he finds out the truth about her.
Pairing: James Barnes x OFC, Ellaria Stark. (Stark!Reader.)
Warnings: Royal!AU, ANGST, mentions of kidnapping, small male on female violence, general calamity
A/N: THE SECRET IS REVEALED. Oh man, yall. This is just the set up for the big drama in the next chapter, but it DRAMATIC nonetheless.
James threw his desk chair at the wall with such force, it shattered like glass. His hand—the flesh one, was bruised and bloodied from striking his oak bed posts over and over.
The anger coursing though his veins ate at his heart like a poison.
How could this be happening?
A woman he’d trusted and allowed into his home—and heart, had turned out to be a thief and a liar.
The notion vexed James enormously. Ellaria was so kind, and true. Though her temper was one that could rival his own, he knew her heart was double—no, triple the size of his.
James couldn’t stop seeing her eyes. How happy they’d been to see him, and how frightened they were when he tore her dress so violently. He hadn’t meant to put his hands on her in that way, and even now in his rage, he regretted it.
He was embarrassed and ashamed and felt a fool.
The study doors creaked open swiftly, without so much as a knock. “Your Majesty.” Steve called.
“Not now, Steve. For God’s sake, not now.” James pleaded, running his hands down his face.
“Bucky, you need to hear this.”
The King looked to his friend, and took in his appearance. Steve was irate—this man was ordinarily level headed and rational, so the sight before him worried James more than he cared to admit.
“Bring her in.” Steve called into the hall.
Suddenly, Sharon walked through his door. Her hands were shackled and Sam was right on her heels.
“What are you doing, Steve?!” Bucky called in horror.
Sam pushed Sharon down to her knees. “Speak, coward. Now.”
Sharon refused. She simply smiled at the King; a delusional, alarming sort of grin.
“One of you had better start talking...” James warned.
“Ellaria is innocent, James.” Steve said. “The events that transpired this evening were entirely Miss Carters doing.”
“Majesty, look,” Sam reached out, handing him the letter found in your room. “It is written in this snake’s hand. She’s conspired to destroy your betrothal to Ellaria.”
As Bucky’s eyes skimmed the page, he felt a boulder drop to his stomach. A forgery; a letter given to the Princess to lull her into contentment.
“The broach,” he seethed, “how did you get it?”
Sharon again stayed silent, keeping her gaze locked on the King’s feet.
“I believe when you dined with Ellaria, she’d snuck into your parent’s quarters. The Princess had noticed the East Wing lock was unlatched, and she wanted to alert you immediately. I told her it was the maids, as I surely never thought something like this could happen.” Steve said somberly.
James put a hand in his friend’s shoulder. “You did not know, my friend.”
Sharon began laughing, “Oh James, don’t you see? Our problems have been solved!”
She jumped quickly to her feet, grabbing the King’s lapel. “We can be together again. I can be Queen! Rumlow promised if I gave him The Iron Kingdom that I would be—“
“Rumlow?” James cut her off, pushing her back, “What do you mean Rumlow?”
Sharon smiled, “Lord Rumlow, of course. He rules Hydralia. When Shieldian fell, he told me I’d be Queen, I just had to help him get what he wanted.”
“What does he want?” Steve growled.
Her eyes didn’t more from the King’s, “He wants revenge. Revenge for what your father did to his, he means to avenge his death with your own; a life for a life.”
“Sir...” Sam said worriedly, “The man from the farm, he was right.”
James’ mind was going a mile a minute. Shieldian has fallen, Rumlow is alive, but none of that mattered.
She mattered.
“The Princess. Steve, where is Ellaria?” The King said fretfully.
“James!” Natasha yelled. He heard her before he saw her. She ran into the room in a panic, her eyes on the brink of tears.
This worried Bucky, because as anyone who knows her will tell you: Natasha Romanoff does not cry.
She walked to him, putting her body between his and Sharon’s.
“Nat?” James pleaded, searching her eyes for answers.
She shook her head. “Ellaria...she’s gone.”
The smell of mildew and rust churned your stomach as you woke.
Black walls surrounded you. It was cold—so cold you could see your breath as you chattered; attempting to keep yourself warm. There was but one window and when you glanced out of it, all you could see was forest.
Where am I?
“Hello?” You call.
Nothing.
“Hello?” You shout.
Suddenly the doors unlatched and is scraped open along the stone floor.
A man with tanned skin and dark featured walked in, flanked by two guards. The colors they wore were the same as the ones the men who took you wore
The men from the castle.
“Look who’s awake...” His voice was sickeningly taunting; it made you shiver.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Your voice is strong—stronger than you expected.
The man chuckled, “We’ll get to that, for now, I want to talk about you, Ellaria Stark.”
You hesitate, he knows you?
“You seem surprised,” he said, walking deeper into the room. The light from the doorway cast him in an ominous shadow as he got closer to you. “Did you think I didn’t know who I was after?”
You freeze again, this time he’s mere inches from you. You watch in horror as his hand finds your arm, he trails two fingers up the length of it.
It disgusts you.
“What do you want with me?” You ask through gritted teeth.
The man sighs, and brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “Unfortunately, you’re just a stepping stone. I needed you to get to Barnes.”
At the mention of James’ name, your heart plummets.
“The future Queen of Buchanan holds more power in this country than I think even you’re aware of. You’re also the heir to the Iron Kingdom, the first born daughter of Anthony Stark....”
He steps back and laughs a moment, “But then again, that’s not exactly true, is it?”
The only sound you hear is your heart as it starts pounding. The air in the room feels like it’s getting thinner and thinner by the moment.
Suddenly he lunges at you and grabs you chin harshly in his hand, “Is it?!” He shouts.
Tears spring to your eyes, and before you can speak another guard enters the room. “Lord Rumlow, the troops are awaiting your command. Are we to move on Buchanan this evening?”
Rumlow kept the grip on your jaw tight, before tossing you to the floor effortlessly. “No. Not until Barnes leaves the city,” he spared you one last look. “He’ll come, and he’ll come for her.”
Tears sprung to your eyes. “You’re wrong.” You mumble.
He froze, turning back to you. “Am I now? Why’s that?”
Palms flat on the stone floor, your push yourself up. “James cares not for me. Ask your spy, Sitwell. He saw what the King did to me at the ball, he saw the hatred in his eyes...”
You drift off when Rumlow starts laughing. “You stupid girl. They told me you were smart—that I should tread lightly around you. I guess they got that wrong. James is easily manipulated, Sitwell wasn’t the only spy I had inside the walls of that castle.”
It takes a moment—just a moment for you to put the pieces together.
“Sharon Carter.” It comes out as barely a whisper. All of the events suddenly making sense in your eyes.
“Well, well. You’re not as daft as you seem.”
He laughed. “Get comfortable, Princess. Once I kill your fiancé, you’ll have a purpose to serve. I’ll need an heir of my own, after all.”
His words struck your stomach like a sword. “W-What?”
He smiled darkly and walked towards the door, “I told you already—you’ve more power than you know. The perfect woman to give me an heir to not one kingdom, but two.”
Then he was gone. He took with him your hope of ever seeing the light of day again.
“Answer me!” Natasha shouted, landing another slap across Sharon’s face. Nat had tied her to a chair and began questioning her, but she refused to answer anything without the King there.
“You think James loves you? You delusional radge, be thankful the King hasn’t ordered your hanging already.”
Sharon was empty; no fear or cares. “I want my James! I need to see my Husband!” She shouted.
Natasha shook her head, moving to speak to Steve, who was just outside the door.
“She’s gone mad, Steve. She’s a nutjob.” Nat said, crossing her arms.
Steve looked through the crack in the door, watching as she hummed and swayed in her shackles. “So I see. What do we do? Bucky is with Tony in the war room.”
Nat pauses, allowing the gears in her mind to turn, and create a plan.
“Let me try something. It may work...”
She walked back into the room, and stood in front of Sharon, shrinking herself to her knees, and softening her once hard gaze.
Nat cleated her throat, “Your husband is on his way, he was simply held up.” She glanced at Steve, who watched in understanding.
Sharon smiled, dazed. “He loves me, you know. He always has.”
Nat nodded, playing into her hands. “I know he does. That’s why you had to save him right? You had to give Ellaria to Rumlow?”
She swayed in her seat and giggled, “Of course! Besides, how would James react if he found out her secret? He’d have killed her,” her eyes lit up. “I saved them both!”
Natasha realized in that moment that Sharon knew something. It took her only a moment to connect the dots between the handwriting on the forged not, and the threatening ones Ellaria had been receiving.
“Yes the secret, the terrible secret. The King doesn’t know?”
Sharon shook her head, “No, but I will tell him. He’ll thank me! Imagine marrying the daughter of a servant? The Great Lie of the Iron Kingdom!”
Natasha’s blood ran cold. She looked to Steve, who was just as perturbed as she was. “What did you say?” Steve asked.
Sharon turned her head to look at him, “The Princess is anything but that. She’s the daughter of a servant, adopted by the Starks at birth. There’s not an ounce of noble blood in that trollop’s veins.”
“Steve...” Nat whispered.
He nodded, running down the corridor. He needed to get to James and he needed to get to him now.
James rounded the table in the war room. The map of the realm affixed in the center of the table.
The strategy was simple; invade Shieldian, kill Rumlow, save Ellaria.
By any means necessary.
“You’ll have my full army; any of my men will be at your disposal. I want my daughter found.” Tony said, his palms pressed flat to the map on the table top.
James nodded, “You have my word, I will bring her home to you.”
“To me?” Tony asked.
“To you.”
He didn’t look at Tony. The disgust in his eyes was something he didn’t think his heart could bear.
Tony scoffed. “So you’re still ending the betrothal? After all you’ve learned...”
The King’s eyes snapped up. “Tony, after what I did to her, what I’ve put her through...” he paused, swallowing the emotion he felt down. “I do not deserve such treasure in my life. Your daughter is far too precious to be tainted by my soul.”
King Stark nodded, “I would love nothing more than to watch you hang for what you’ve done to her, believe me.” A sigh left the veteran king’s mouth, “But I must tell you, my daughter is as stubborn as she is strong. She is fierce and she has the wisdom of a woman thrice her age. She will not yield or give up as easily as it seems you do.”
James nodded.
He didn’t want to give her up. He wanted all of her—heart, body, and soul.
James didn’t deserve her, but he could not let her die because of his own ignorance. The misdeeds in his kingdom were his responsibility, and he would see that they were undone.
“I love you daughter, your majesty. I love her, but I’ve been keeping her in darkness for too long. She is light, and I’ve drowned her out. I would do anything, anything to undo the mistakes I’ve made, but I cannot.”
James is grateful when Steve walks in, it distracts him from himself for a moment.
“Steve, any news?” James asked.
He doesn’t respond to his friend, instead he turned to Tony.
“Your highness, my apologies for my frankness, but I need to ask you...”
Tony’s befuddled, “Sir Steven?”
Steve was clearly nervous, but persisted. “Your daughter, Ellaria, is she of your blood, your majesty?”
The room fell silent.
“I mean no disrespect. Whilst Ellaria was here she became a great friend to me, but she was threatened. A secret was used to manipulate the Princess, and I believe it will come to light and be used against you as well.” Steve stepped forward to the still silent king, “Is she adopted?”
Anthony Stark isn’t a man of few words, but now he cannot speak.
James merely looked at his friend, someone whom he respects and looks up to. He saw the battle of truth and protecting his daughter in his eyes. “Tony, is it true?”
King Anthony’s eyes are glassy as he clears his throat. “She is mine. My daughter, the love of my life. How she came to be so doesn’t matter.”
The room stays still and silent, waiting for either man to make the first move. James is overwhelmed, and now more determined than ever.
“We must go. Ready my horse.”
She was scared to admit this to him? Jame’s heart broke for her; for the fear and shame she kept hidden away.
if only she knew.
...
Taglist: @iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 @lefoutoir @nickangel13 @marvelismysafezone @lilulo-12 @warmvanillafeels @star-spangled-beard-burn @ravenesque @pinknerdpanda @wintersoldierissucharide @snapcapquartet @ellen-reincarnated1967 @unlistedpond @my-drowning-in-time @supernaturalwintersoldier @kimvmarvel @roseboho @winterboobear11 @choicesloversstuff @disaffectedbarnes @igothroughphasesalot (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!)
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alright, alright. i’m posting this in hopes that it’ll push me to finish the actual update.
here’s a 5 page worth of words I wrote out for the next update when I was so invested in my thoughts of meelo that I totally and completely forgot how the climax and ending was supposed to go and didn’t think of how this would rock the boat too much. i hope one or two people will get a kick out of this. maybe foam a little at the mouth like i did. i’ll consider it a piece of my AU’s AU lol
there’s like. A spoiler but it’s not much of a spoiler, I think. Also I haven’t looked at it or edited it in a while so there may be some mess ups.
____
They went back to drinking their tea until mid-sip, Revali asked, “Speaking of, why did you follow me up there in the first place? Was there something?” Immediately, Meezuli’s whole face tightened and it was clear that there was definitely something.
“I-Well, you know-” She was tripping over what should have been a simple question, averting her eyes from Revali until she gave an awkward smile and blurted, “I originally came up to punch you for upsetting Meelo.”
They both blinked.
Revali frowned, as his first reaction was to be insulted that she came to hit him, up until he thought about how shocked and sad Meelo looked after he overheard him and Teba. And then his stomach dropped the same way it did then.
He had just assumed, or rather, hoped, that Meelo left because he genuinely felt like he was interrupting, not because he was that upset. Stupid.
“I upset him that much?”
Meezuli ground her beak and nearly tossed her saucer onto the floor so she could slap her hands on her knees. “You did! And I wonder why. Maybe ‘cause you screamed about fucking Link in front of him, you idiot!”
“But why would he be so upset to warrant you to punch me?” Revali squawked back.
Instantly, Meezuli’s face went blank and she was quiet for a second. “Oh. Oh, you don’t know, do you?”
Revali folded his arms. “What don’t I know?”
“How Lo feels about you…?”
His cheek feathers ruffled. He scratched his face and looked away. “Well...I...I know that sometimes things got...Well, maybe a little intimate between us, but I didn’t that it-”
Meezuli ground her beak again. “That it what? That it didn’t mean anything?” She threw her hands up to grab onto Revali’s face and knocked on his skull. “For our Champion, you really don’t have anything knocking around in that giant head of yours, do you?!”
With what limited control he had of his face with Meezuli’s clutching onto him, he grimaced and spat, “Excuse me?”
As a response, Meezuli started to shake him and yelled in his face, “Meelo is head over heels for you, birdbrain! Totally nuts, bonkers, wacko over you!”
Every feather on Revali’s body stood on end. And his skin underneath it scorched.
He had known that there was something, but nothing that serious. Not serious enough that knowing what happened between him and Link would hurt him.
Revali was caught between feeling immeasurably guilty and inexplicably happy, knowing how Meelo felt. Knowing the real meaning behind Meelo's words when he told Revali how much he meant to him.
“Everyone in the village knows it. Except you, apparently!”
“For...For how long?” He hesitantly asked, his beak bone dry.
“Basically since the beginning! How could you not-” She released Revali, groaning, then balled up her fists. “Din Almighty, I want to punch you so hard right now.”
Revali tried to flatten his feathers, trying to get them to stay down, but he couldn’t. All he could do was think of Meelo. Think of how during all the nights Revali was thinking about Link, Meelo was probably thinking about him the same way. About all those moments that Revali brushed off to go back to thinking about Link, and much they probably meant to Meelo.
“But...I…”
Meezuli let out a guttural sigh, rolled her head. “Meelo was so upset because he’s so into you and lately really thought he could have a serious chance. Even when Link was here and you two were attached at the hip, both me and Teba told him he didn’t have anything to worry about. Because, you know, everyone in Hyrule knows he’s engaged to that stuck up fish prince. But then you-” She balled her fists up and groaned again, loudly, up at the roof.
“I thought you said you were on my side!” Revali spat, brushing down his crown.
She huffed, then waved her hands. “I am, I am. I just can’t help but be mad on Meelo’s behalf, okay?” Clasping her hands together, she went on. “But, because I know Meelo can get over this and you’re dealing with a lot more...I will try to be unbiased. And from my unbiased standpoint, I gotta ask this again.” Meezuli leaned in and pointed her hands at Revali. “How do you feel about Lo?”
Revali sputtered and had to work on flattening his feathers again.
“Is he just a friend to you? Did all that 'intimacy' you mentioned really not mean anything?”
She might've said that she would be unbiased, but the pleading look in her eyes said otherwise. It was intense enough that Revali had to look away and think, all the while brushing his cheeks to flatten the feathers.
Maybe it should’ve been a simple answer, but it wasn’t.
After all the time he spent with him. After all the gentle smiles and soft laughs Meelo gave him, it wasn’t easy.
After Meelo shielded onlookers from seeing Revali when he was torn after finding that old letter from his parents like it was the obvious choice.
After Meelo found Revali when he was falling apart from his visions in front of Medoh, using his taller frame and hand as an umbrella for Revali from the pouring rain, and held him tightly until he calmed down.
After Meelo tried to be brave at the ball, even though he was completely out of his element. And after they waltzed together, their bodies closer than ever, both ruffling up when they held hands, hips, and shoulders, breathing each other’s air. Even after Meelo snapped at Link for putting Revali in danger; It was wrong, but he had only done it because he cared so much for Revali.
After he took down a Grizzlemaw, almost singlehandedly, showing just how brave and bold he could be when given the chance.
After Meelo worried about it him all the time, fretting over his wellbeing constantly. Waiting by his bedside when he was with the doctor and always being there when he was hurt.
After Meelo never failing to be amazed by him. Always in awe of everything that Revali did, never ceasing to hang on his every word with stars in his eyes.
After always predictably puffing out his cheeks when he was mad or frustrated, stuttered and fidgeted when he was nervous, cocked his head slightly whenever he asked questions. His crest always gave him away and he was always so easy to read; he was always so expressive in the funniest and most adorable ways and it was one of the most endearing things about him.
After always being so thoughtful and gentle. Being surprisingly smart and cunning. Being headstrong in the softest way; never giving up even when it was hard, despite how he thought of himself. Generally being wonderful and perfect. Softening Revali and making him want to be a kinder person.
After all of that...It wasn’t easy. It was not easy at all to come up with an exact answer to how he felt about Meelo.
Especially after the night where they were so close to kissing. So close to Revali throwing away all the years of yearning for Link to start something new. He had wanted to kiss him so bad. To turn over a new leaf with someone else.
But that was the question.
If Link was out of the picture, would Revali even want to be with Meelo?
Revali had pulled away when he realized that he was only putting Link in Meelo’s place because he was so much like Link before the Calamity happened. And while still wanting a future with Link, it felt so wrong.
But if Link was gone, if Link never gave Revali the time of day, if Link was untouchable enough for Revali to finally give up, would that piece of him still...Still want to kiss Meelo? Did he only feel the way he did because of his likeness for the old Link and he was a stand-in, or was he so special to Revali while Link was still invading his head?
Should it even matter, anyway?
It was impossible to keep ignoring how Meelo made him feel. He felt himself blush around him, felt his heart skip beats and his stomach flop. Felt butterflies in every inch of his body. A future could be possible. A new future. He could be the key to moving on, to finding a new life far from all the pain of the past. Just like Urbosa said. Maybe that was what was meant to be.
But how could he? How could he do that now that he already dug his own grave, done what he had done with Link. Was this new future even possible with the past, with what could have been with Link, still plaguing him and refusing to let go?
Revali closed his eyes and rubbed his head.
“I don’t...I don’t know.”
Meezuli squinted at him and furled her arms. “Waddya mean you don’t know?”
“Alright, alright! Fine!” His eyes shot open so he could glare at Meezuli. “I admit it. I like Meelo. I think I might really really like him.”
Meezuli’s whole face widened into a gigantic grin that was too big for her tiny face.
“But it’s very complicated, Meezuli. Extremely complicated.” He pinched the bridge of his beak in exasperation.
And instantly her smile fell. “Oh, whatever.”
“No! Seriously. Listen to me,” Revali snapped. “I...I left this part out because I’m not proud of it and I doubt Meelo ever brought it up with you, but-”
Meezuli’s eyes were so wide and expectant that Revali had to look away again to finish his sentence.
“...Meelo and I almost kissed.”
“For real?!” She shrieked.
Revali grabbed her beak to clamp it shut. “Quiet! I don’t want all of Tabantha to know.”
When he let go, she clicked her beak a couple times before asking, “Well, why didn’t you? What’s the problem?”
“The problem is that no matter what I do, no matter what happens, I just can’t let go of Link. I still want to be with him. I still want to have a future with him-”
“You still want to bone him.”
“That could be said more eloquently, but yes!” He barked.
“Well, after all you told me, I can see why it wouldn’t be easy to shake off. Not everyone gets to spend a century dreaming about boning someone.”
Revali covered his face with his hand and let out a sharp groan before continuing on. “The point is, I pulled away because I realized that I wasn’t completely thinking about Meelo. I was thinking about Link, too. And I’m afraid that I only like Meelo since he reminds me so much of how Link was before the Calamity.”
“But that Link is gone, right? He’s a totally different person now, through and through, so that shouldn’t matter that he makes you think of someone from the past, yeah?” Meezuli said, drinking more tea.
“Again, it’s not that simple. As I said before, Link is regaining more of his memories and is becoming more and more like the person he was before. So, it’s almost as if the person I loved before is slowly coming back.”
Meezuli whistled. “Wow, yeah, this is a toughie.”
“You are doing the opposite of helping.”
“Okay, okay, fine. As your unbiased pal, lemme put this on the table.” She took a giant gulp of her tea and practically tossed the empty saucer onto the floor. “The thing is, Link is engaged to someone else. Before you even came back from heaven or wherever the hell you were. And to the prince of the Zora, for Farore’s sake! Teba’s right, there’s a lot of politics, that honestly I don’t totally get, involved. Things are weird enough between us and the Zora as it is without you, someone who’s already hated by those fish, messing it all up. It’s hairy stuff.”
“That sounds pretty biased to me, Meezuli.”
“I’m just listing the cons here, sir.”
“But Link said he would take care of that. That he would break it off so that we could be together. So that can’t even be considered a con because that won’t be an issue anymore.”
Meezuli gave him a flat look.
“What?”
“You can’t honestly believe that he’ll be able to do that, right? I think he just said that in the spur of the moment. There’s kingdom politics, then there’s that lunatic involved…”
“That’s another thing! Link wouldn’t have to deal with that wretched royal anymore-”
“Sir, that’s a pro for Link. Not for you. Yeah, Link should get away from him if he can, but that doesn’t mean he has to be with you instead.”
Revali set his head in his hands. That was...shockingly smart of Meezuli to say.
“You wanna know what I think?”
“What do you think, wise sage Meezuli?”
She gave him a snide look and then went on. “I think Lady Urbosa is right, too. You all need to move on and find new lives for yourselves. That’s the best thing you can do after all you’ve been through. Leave the past in the past. And I think that you should do that…” She sheepishly shrugged and smiled. “By getting with my number one buddy who is your biggest fan.”
Revali’s brow deepened as his feathers lightly ruffled. “You’re really pushing your Meelo agenda, aren’t you?”
“I told you, I can’t help it!” Meezuli laughed, despite herself. “I know, you’re still in love with that hero. But, that ship might have permanently sailed. And all that ship has done is make life harder for you. So, that’s why I genuinely think Meelo is your ticket to happiness. Even if you’ve fudged it up a bit.”
He scratched his face, thinking. “I don’t know.”
Maybe she was right. She probably was.
But she was really downplaying how in love she was with Link. It wasn’t something you could easily break off just like that.
Meezuli rubbed her chin for a moment, thinking, before snapping her fingers. “Tell you what. How about you think it over tonight and then in the morning you can go talk to Link in person about it, without all that romance getting to both of your heads. Really mull it over with each other. No secrets, just straight up. I’ll go with you, since I have letters to deliver in the Domain anyway.”
Revali wasn’t too keen on going to that place. He might as well walk into a Bokoblin camp with his arms bound and an apple stuffed in his beak. “But… shouldn’t you have left tonight?”
“Tch. I’ll just tell ‘em there was a storm. How are they supposed to know?”
He stared at her and she stared back, again with her massive, expectant eyes.
“For the love of- Fine. Fine! I’ll go.”
“Perfect! You can stay her tonight, too, since-”
“Yes. Thanks for reminding me. We can take Medoh, too.”
“Oh, geez. As long as you two can take it easy on me this time.”
Revali smirked.
“No promises.”
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Choices (Linked Universe) pt 4 - END
Characters derived from the Linked Universe AU by @jojo56830 (@linkeduniverse)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
It was cold. Link felt like he was floating, weightless. The darkness around him was so complete that he wondered if he’d gone blind. He called out, but his voice made no sound in the void.
There was a sound, though - a small noise, like a hum. The sound grew louder, filling the air. Link felt his skin prickle. The air was vibrating, the sound growing so loud that it overwhelmed even the darkness. Link tried to cover his ears, but his arms were pinned down. The noise tightened, soaring in pitch to a high chime.
A pinprick of pink light appeared in the distance. It floated loosely through the darkness. Link tried to move towards it, but his legs wouldn’t move. He looked down to see what was holding him back, but he couldn’t see himself. He stared at the light, willing it to come closer. It bobbed in the darkness, leaving a trail of sparks. A fairy.
Memory hit him like a blow to the gut.
“I messed up, didn’t I.” he said softly. The fairy pulsed in reply. He sighed, closing his eyes. The fairy glowed brightly, shining through his eyelids, turning the world red.
Suddenly he could feel everything. Pain radiated through him, a dull ache that gave shape to every wound at once. His eyes shot open as he sucked in a breath. There were faces all around him. The air tasted like metal. The chiming in his ears stopped abruptly, giving way to half a dozen voices talking over each other. He groaned and scrubbed at his eyes. “I’m OK.” he murmured. He started to sit up, but a heavy hand fell on his chest, keeping him pinned down.
“Relax, champion. The fight’s over.” The voice was calm, steady. Link nodded. Exhaustion came over him in waves. He let himself relax.
This time, the darkness felt warm.
---
Wild woke up slowly. He shifted, getting his bearings. He was in the cave.
He turned his face to the cave mouth. The storm had cleared, and the moon was out, shining too brightly. The world was exposed in cool light, wet grass shimmering, the black ocean winking silver. Firelight moved over the still forms of his fellow heroes.
He knew it wasn’t rational, but he wanted to run away, to see the churned-up earth from the battle and the bones of his enemies. He wanted to look down into the ocean where he fell, touch the tree that had saved Wind’s life, judge how far his paraglider could have taken him if he hadn’t been so exhausted. He could have done things differently. He wondered how the other Link would have done things. He pushed himself to sit upright, biting back the pain.
Time placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Wild started. The old man crouched beside him, looking at him, but Wild couldn’t bear to meet his eye.
“You should go back to sleep.” Time’s voice was low. Wild swallowed. His throat felt raw.
“I can’t. Not yet.”
For a long moment, Time was silent. He stood, casting his eye around the room at the heroes. Some were sprawled out, exhausted and snoring. The others were clearly feigning sleep, alert even as they were prone. Legend wasn’t even bothering to pretend, meeting his gaze defiantly.
“If that is so, then we have a chance to talk. We can go outside if you wish.” His tone was firm, deliberate. Wild knew this was not a request. Time helped him to his feet, taking on his weight.
“Is that a good idea?” Warrior’s voice was almost inaudible. Time gave him a hard look. The hero’s eyes snapped shut, and he faked a snore. Legend kicked at his bedroll.
The pair didn’t walk far from the cave, moving slowly as they were. Time helped Wild to sit on the damp log of a fallen tree. He pulled a bottle from tunic, glowing with the light of an indigo flame. Time emptied the bottle onto an abandoned campfire. Wild watched the blue flame take to the wood as though it was dry. It was beautiful, and the brightness seemed to drown out the tormenting moonlight. He shivered, and was considering shuffling closer to the fire when Time placed a heavy cloak over his back. The fur tickled at the scars on his neck. It smelled like wet dog, but it was warm and dry inside. He pulled it closer around his body.
Time sat beside the fire. He looked oddly vulnerable with his back to the moon, armour discarded inside the cave. Wild tilted his head. There was something about his face that didn’t look right. Is he afraid?
No way.
Time swallowed. He looked into Wild’s eyes. Wild suddenly felt a little dizzy.
“What happened in the cave?” Time started slowly. Wild went cold. He felt pins and needles run through his skin.
The look on Wild’s face was everything Time needed to know. He drew Legend’s dagger slowly, placing it on the ground between them. The blue firelight flickered over the blade, turning the dried blood black.
“Wait,” Wild said suddenly, his eyes pleading. “I know how this looks, but I can explain.”
Time looked at him evenly, giving the hero a small nod. Wild sighed, wringing his hands.
“It’s just, I was – I knew I was dying. I could feel it. I’ve felt it before. In battle.” He explained, tripping over his words. Time frowned.
“You wanted to speed it up? Were you in that much pain?” He said softly. Wild shook his head vigorously.
“No. I mean yes. But not in the way you think. I wanted to die so Mipha could revive me.” He said quickly. Time raised an eyebrow. Wild sighed.
“I’ve fallen in battle before. Sometimes, when I’m close to death, I can hear Mipha’s voice. Her spirit heals my wounds, and she vanishes for a while. It’s instant, and powerful.” It felt like he was talking over himself. “I tried to tell the others. I didn’t want them to get - you have to understand, I can’t-”
“Stop, Link. Breathe.” Wild started at his name. Time’s eye was wide, but his voice was gentle and even. Wild focused on his breathing, listening to the wind and the crackling of the fire, feeling his heartbeat slow. He face burned. Had he been yelling?
Time was like a statue by the fire. He didn’t look vulnerable any more. He looked like something steady, something permanent. Wild had a feeling that he would be comfortable sitting there as long as it took to get him to talk. He wondered if he had the strength to run, wondered if Time would follow. Probably not, and probably so. He swallowed.
“I didn’t do it to die. I did it to heal. I tried to explain.” He said helplessly.
Time nodded. “I understand.” Wild looked at the fire, thoughts drifting. The pair were quiet for a while. The sound of cicadas mingled with the distant roar of the sea. The flames burnt spots into Wild’s vision. He blinked, shaking his head. The spots danced like shapes moving in the darkness. When Wild glanced back to Time, he saw him polishing the dagger. All evidence of what he had done had vanished.
Time inspected the dagger. Blue light shimmered across the blade. “I believe you when you say that you’ve been protected. I know powerful spirits endure after death, especially those with unfinished business. I know you had friends before… the calamity.” The look he shot Wild was hard enough to wind him.
“Were you certain Mipha would heal you tonight?”
Wild looked away. “I took a risk.”
Time’s face darkened. He lifted the dagger. “Had you used this only minutes earlier than you did, no number of fairies could have brought you back. You made a reckless decision. You make a lot of those. I want a real answer from you. If your reckless strategy had succeeded, but Mipha’s power had failed, what then?” Time punctuated his words by stabbing the dagger into the earth. It was almost childish.
Wild swallowed. The moon stared down at him accusingly. He thought hard about his words.
“I would have died. And everything would have gone on just fine without me.” His hand floated to his stomach. “You’re all so strong. I’ve seen you do amazing things. What if someone had been hurt trying to save me? What if someone had died?”
“I know I’m reckless sometimes.” Wild met Time’s intensity with his own. “But I’ll never hesitate to put myself on the line if there’s a chance I can save someone. Do you get it?”
“You would rather invite death than endanger others.” Time concluded. Wild nodded. Time sighed.
“Something we all seem to have in common is our tendency to see our lives as sets of objectives. The great lie that we tell ourselves is that achieving these goals will set the world right. We fight for our world, we defeat the enemy, and live out our days in peace.” Time looked at Wild sadly. “It doesn’t work like that, not in the real world. You need to find your own peace. You, in particular.” Wild looked away, frowning.
“I understand your actions tonight, although I don’t agree with them - and nor do any of the others. You are never to take this form of action again.” Time said sternly. Wild bowed his head in silent acquiescence.
“Also.” Time got to his feet. “I’m going to task you with a new objective.” The hero took Wild by the shoulders. Wild looked up at him, a spark of determination lighting in his eyes.
“Your goal is to survive. You must preserve your life - you must fight for your life - as if you were fighting for one of ours. You can save people and save yourself. Do this for us.”
“I will,” Wild nodded vigorously. Time grinned, squeezing his shoulders.
“Think about that next time you decide to use your head as a shield.”
Wild laughed sheepishly, then yawned. “My first act of survival will be going back to sleep.” he announced. Time helped him to his feet.
He had hoped to talk more - to do more. He was worried about the young hero. He hoped he had said enough. I’ll leave the rest to the others for now. I have a feeling someone else wants to talk.
---
Wild didn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke up with his face buried in warm fur. He reached out and stroked the wolf lazily. “Good boy,” he murmured. The wolf snuffled at the indignity and stood up, ‘accidentally’ slobbering on Wild’s face. The young hero exclaimed in disgust, pushing the wolf away. It bounded out of the cave mouth. Wild sat up and squinted into the bright sunlight. It looked like the others had given him some space to rest. He could hear their voices outside.
Wind burst into the cave, looking frantic. “Wild! Are you OK? I didn’t get to talk to you last night, I was out cold when you got back and then Time took me to get some fairies and then you were bleeding like crazy. There was blood. EVERYWHERE. Hyrule brought in a bunch of sand this morning to clean it up but Four said it might get in the wound and Warrior made everyone get out so we wouldn’t wake you up. Legend said you went outside last night! You should have woken me up! I’ve been waiting until you got up to go to the beach, I know you’re hurt but saltwater is great for wounds, even if it stings a bit. OW!”
Warrior clapped the back of Wind’s head. “If you stop for a minute he might be able to get a word in.”
“At least we know he’s awake now,” Legend smirked at Wild. “Glad you’re not dead.” Wild grinned back.
He had a moment to brace himself before Sky and Hyrule tackled him, talking over each other in an effort to ensure he was feeling healthy and well rested, and insisting that he eat some of the breakfast they’d prepared, which was definitely not dubious in any way.
“I made a Hearty Lizard omelette, it’ll heal you right up!” Hyrule said proudly. Wild cringed.
“Sounds great, but I’m not feeling up to lizards just yet. I could go for a baked apple though,” he said hopefully. It was hard to mess up a baked apple. Hyrule rushed to oblige.
Sky came to the rescue with an armful of potions. “I hope your stomach is together enough to take these now,” he said lightly. Wild’s smile faltered.
“I was difficult last night, wasn’t I.” he murmured, pausing to down a red potion. He felt warmth spread through his body, the pain melting away. Sky sat beside him.
“It’s alright,” he said evenly. “But next time I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Four sighed. “We were really worried about you.” Steel entered his tone. “I can’t BELIEVE you went into battle with a broken weapon AGAIN.”
“Yeah, cause that’s the worst mistake you made last night,” Legend grumbled. Warrior punched him in the kidney, sending him sprawling to the ground.
“I don’t get it,” Wind complained. Warrior ruffled his hair.
“I’ll show you where the kidney is later.”
Time and Twilight entered the cave together. Wild felt claustrophobic under their gaze. Something in Twilight’s look made him freeze up as he stalked over.
“You’re getting better at the intimidation thing,” Wild joked weakly. Twilight knelt in front of his protégé.
“I’m going to hug you now.” He said seriously. He grabbed Wild in a firm embrace.
“Ok,” Wild said, surprised. “Not what I was expecting.”
“And I’m going to kill you later.” He muttered. Wild smiled softly.
“I’m sorry for scaring you.” He said quietly.
“I’ll make you pay.” Twilight promised. Wild laughed. Pain shot through his core, and he cringed back, hissing. Twilight gave him a gentle push. “Stay down and heal up. Don’t let the kid drag you to the beach just yet.”
“I’ll give you until this afternoon,” Wind said stubbornly.
Wild relaxed, enjoying the sounds of the heroes laughing and bickering. He felt himself starting to drift off.
The sound had died down when he came to. It looked like the mid afternoon. Legend was sitting by his side, reading an ancient looking scroll. Wild squinted to see the text, but it wasn’t written in his Hylian.
“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.” Legend said quietly.
“Hey,” Wild replied. Legend rolled up the page and put it aside. He cleared his throat, inspecting some of his rings. The pause was just getting long enough to feel awkward when he spoke.
“So that wolf was hanging around outside last night for a while. Thought you should know.”
Wild nodded. “Thank you.”
Legend met his eyes. “You and the old man had a lot to talk about, hey.”
Wild smiled wryly. “I think I was out of my mind. The memory is a bit of a mess.” He hesitated.
“How many of the others were listening in?”
“Just Warrior and me. Maybe Four. I didn’t see him, but I get the sense that he knows what’s going on. The others were exhausted.” Legend took off a ring and polished it on his tunic.
“Just so you know. Some of us have been where you are.” He held the ring out in the light, turning it to inspect every shining angle. “I know doing crazy stuff is kind of your thing. Just… being with these idiots has made me think that accepting help might not be the worst idea.”
Legend went quiet, pulling off another ring to polish. Wild closed his eyes.
“I think being alone for too long makes people go crazy.”
“I think having friends makes people crazy.” Legend retorted. “Being alone is one thing. Having someone to care about, and losing them… that’s when things get weird. Makes you wonder if it was worth it in the first place.”
Wild looked carefully at Legend’s face. There was something about his eyes that made him feel a little sad. He sat up. “Can you grab me a red potion?” Legend rolled his eyes. He reached into his bag and pulled out a pair.
“Here you are, princess. Drink up.”
Wild took a bottle and raised it. “To surviving.” Legend broke into laughter.
“Don’t make a habit of this,” he joked, clinking the extra bottle. “Take this one too, you look like crap.”
Wild grinned as he downed the potion. In a quick movement, he hopped to his feet.
“Take it easy,” Legend laughed, alarmed.
“I’m going to the beach,” Wild announced. “And you’re coming!”
“Hold on,” Legend protested. He was dragged to his feet, staggering after Wild. “I was reading that!”
“I’m going to show you how to fish with bombs!”
“I’m going to sic the ranch hand on you.”
“Changed my mind, see you later!”
“Too late now, you’re doomed.” Legend grinned.
Wild grabbed a shield. “Can’t kill me if you can’t catch me.” he smirked.
Legend paused, raising his eyebrows. Wild froze, looked down at the shield and laughed sheepishly.
“Actually, maybe I’ll walk today.” He put the shield back carefully. Legend applauded.
“There’s the survival instinct the old man’s looking for!” Wild stuck out his tongue. Legend clapped him on the back. “Come on, let’s go make the kid’s day.”
---
According to Wild, the following beach day was ‘worth falling off a cliff’.
---
End notes:
Thanks for sticking with me! This has been my first fanfiction. It started off as something very different and has evolved. There was a lot more I wanted to get into around Wild’s character, but it was getting pretty heavy-handed. I like reading slice-of-life fics as well as angsty stuff, and I hopped between genres as I was writing. I hope you got a kick out of it. I love this AU, I think there’s a lot of room for wholesomeness in there. Most of all, I love that it gives all the Links voices. When I think of BOTW Link now, I feel pretty sad for him. He’s very alone. It’s nice to imagine him interacting with friends who really understand him.
Let me know your thoughts in the comments. Thanks again for reading!
- Diecasual
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Peter Stone x Reader -Chapter 2
Weeks passed since your near meltdown. Peter turned out to be a very understanding friend. That night he got you home safely. Even tucked you into bed. Neither of you brought up what happened that night, and you were grateful he didn't tell Liv about it. You weren't too keen on her being aware of your little issue. No doubt she would have sent you to some therapist. You didn't want to talk to some stranger about your love life, or lack thereof.
You saw Peter in a new light. It made you feel terrible on how badly you treated him. He was a good guy, and your shortsighted actions made you blind to that for so long. The both of you were now on better ground at least. You still weren't best friends, but you greeted him and acknowledged him a lot more than you'd done previously.
You went back to that bar on more than one occasion. And often times you spotted Peter. He'd invite you to a drink, and you'd join him. You were glad you were more like acquaintances now, rather than enemies.
Today was like any other, working the case, getting the job done. This one hit a bit too close for Liv, you could tell it was affecting her. A kid had been molested, and then murdered. The guy accused of the crime, Jason Phillips, was the main suspect, but because of a hostile witness the case was starting to get a bit rocky. This was the last day of the trail. If they couldn't convince the jury that Jason was indeed guilty, it was very likely he would get away with it.
You sat through the trail, watching the parents. You could see the despair in their eyes. With the way this case was looking, the perp was going to get away. And nothing would torture Liv more than if she couldn't get this family justice. Peter was doing good, considering the circumstances. You listened to all the arguments, eyes staring down the guy responsible for all the pain. He had a look on his face. One that made you unsettled. Halfway through the investigation you were skeptical, but now, watching his reactions to the facts being stated about the boy, you could tell. You could see it in his eyes. He was getting off on the calamity.
The trail was wrapping up. You watched as the officer took the slip from the judge, passing it to the jury. The man took it, opening the slip of paper. "We find the defendant.." you held your breath, waiting for the verdict. "Not guilty." Murmurs and yells echoed, the judge trying to get the audience under control. The look on the boy's parents, it almost broke you. His mother was crying, clutching unto her husband.
"Order! Clear the room!" the judge bellowed. Everyone started filing out, Jason shaking his lawyer's hand. You hated this. From the look on Stone's face you could tell he was fuming. "That monster is going to walk free." He was beating himself up, but you knew he did all he could. You walked in step with him, he moved to the parents to offer apologies. "Mr. and Mrs. Charles, I'm so sorry I couldn't keep my promise to get your son justice. " Mrs. Charles offered a sympathetic smile, but her husband just pushed passed him angrily. His wife trailed behind calling out to him. When you stepped out Jason was on the other side, chatting with his lawyer.
The boy's father was faced in his direction, and there was something in his eyes, something you'd seen too many times. Before you could react he pulled out a gun. "Nobody move!!" he yelled. You stepped in front of Peter, trying to resolve the scene with minimal casualties. Despite the warning a few people scrambled.
Jason backed into a wall, and Mr. Charles stalked over. "You think you could do that to my boy and get away with it! " The only thing separating him from Jason was you and Peter. You pushed Peter out of the way, drawing your gun. Mr. Charles stopped, but he had his weapon aimed in Jason's direction.
"Listen to me Mr. Charles, this isn't what your boy would have wanted. Think about him."
Jason was quivering in the wall, only a few meters away. If Jason so much as moved you were certain Mr. Charles would pull the trigger. Cops were now circled around him. You needed to talk him down. "Look at me, look at me not him." His hands were shaking, but the rage in his eyes, that was very real.
"You don't know what it's like, that boy, he was my life. He's all we had. How am I supposed to move on. I promised him! I PROMISED THAT BOY I WOULD ALWAYS PROTECT HIM AND I WASN'T THERE!!" you tensed when his finger moved closer to the trigger.
"Come on think about this, think about your wife. She's already lost her son. Do you think she can survive losing her husband too?" He wavered for a second. You could tell you were getting through to him. "Just put the gun down okay. Please don't ruin your life. " His hand tightened on the revolver. "He was my life." his hands steadied and you panicked.
"Mr. Charles don't-" two shots fired and you grunted at the bullet that ripped through your skin. Your body hit the ground harshly, and a number of other gunshots went off around you.
"(Y/N)!!" someone called out, but you couldn't tell who it was. A face came into your view and you turned your head, Mr. Charles was down. "Hey look at me you're fine, you'll be okay." your eyes refocused, head tilting and it took you awhile to realize the man hovering over you was Peter. He was pressing his jacket suit into your abdomen. "P..eter.." you mumbled.
"Don't talk just hold on, they're getting help. " Your vision was starting to get pretty hazy.
"Figures right.. As soon..as we start to get along.." you tried to laugh, but just that made you wince. Peter was wearing a strained smile. "When you recover from this you can make it up to me." If you recovered. You took in a shaky breath, reaching your hand up. Peter took it.
"D-Don't leave me me... please.." He shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere I'm right here for you just stay awake." you wanted to, you really did, but your eyelids felt so heavy. "I'm tired Peter.."
"No, No don't fall asleep just stay up, just a little longer." he was pleading, but you couldn't help it.
"WHERE THE HELL ARE THE PARAMEDICS!!!" Peter exploded. That was probably the first time you'd seen him so out of control. Everything was starting to fade out. Your eyes slowly closed, the last thing you made out was Peter's voice calling to you.
#peterstone#Law and Order: Special Victims Unit#rafealxreader#oliviabenson#amandarollins#carisi#fin tutuola#crime#angst#love#peter stonexreader#NYPD#lawyers#loss
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of chaos and calamities || Part 6
Pairing(s): Johnten, Luwoo, Markhyuck, Doil
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1800+
Warnings: None
Author Note: dfklgdh okay so as usual, this is late bc work is a mess and i’ve been swamped and i haven’t really had inspiration to write :(( but please enjoy this!
more proposals? check. wedding planning? check. johnten? check. luwoo? check. markhyuck? check. hotel? trivago.
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as with every other day, even the ones that they had off, johnny and ten still woke up and rushed through their morning routines, because of course, they were late. they had around half an hour to shower, eat, and somehow make the half hour trip to the botanical garden, where they’d be meeting up with the two pairs dubbed as luwoo and markhyuck.
of course, it was just their luck that their bus would show up as they were walking to the stop, and driving off just as they reached the bench. of course it would take another twenty minutes before another one would get there. of course they would a text that markhyuck wasn’t able to make it.
of course luwoo would be standing at the gate to the botanical garden, phones out and reading the messages that were coming through. of course they would get the chance to have a date alone, since their tour started in less than ten minutes. of course donghyuck would get sick, and therefore mark would get sick. of course ten and johnny would get stuck without transportation, unable to make it to the garden in time.
however, yukhei couldn’t find it in himself to care much, as he took a hold of jungwoo’s hand and they made their way to where the tour started. their guide took them through winding paths, stopping in the most scenic places for people to take pictures. some people that came with friends took pictures in groups, couples took selfies under the trees, and yukhei? he took pictures of jungwoo looking at flowers, looking up in awe at the slivers of the sky he could see through the branches, looking down at the little river where he could see fish swimming. a stranger took a picture of them together on yukhei’s phone, one of them kissing underneath a cherry blossom tree. another person helped them out and took a picture of them underneath a curved canopy of trees, and yet another snapped a shot of when yukhei dug out a ring from his breast pocket and dropped to his knee, jungwoo standing in front of him with his back turned, hands over his eyes and waiting for yukhei to say something.
somebody got a video of the moment jungwoo turned around, spotting yukhei. jungwoo’s jaw dropped. “you can’t be serious, oh my god you’re serious.” he kept whimpering, hands over his mouth as he stared at the taller man.
“jungwoo, i know we’ve only been together for a year. i know that, but it’s been such a ride and the future’s only gonna be an even crazier ride and i wanna spend it with you by my side. you’re my light in the darkness, my northern star to guide me, my rock when i’m tired, and my pillar when i’m breaking. i couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else. so would you please marry me?” jungwoo sobbed at that, nodding frantically. yukhei got to his feet and slid the ring onto his finger, before pulling the shorter man to his chest and letting him rest there. the crowd around them clapped and cheered, and the guide was nice enough to give them a minute for jungwoo to collect himself.
of course, it was all planned out, except they were planning to have some of their friends there for it. but the moment went just fine, with or without their friends.
yukhei saw their video on the garden’s homepage, while they were sitting down to eat in a quaint little restaurant across the street, after their tour had ended and the group had been guided out. they had taken several more pictures together, and yukhei took more of jungwoo, not knowing that jungwoo was doing the same in return. they looked through their photos together, sending each other the ones that they didn’t have. a comfortable silence fell over the table as they ate, knives and forks clattering on the plates as they dug into what they had ordered, occasionally reaching over to grab bits of the other’s food. they split the bill, before walking out hand in hand.
jungwoo fell asleep on yukhei’s shoulder on the way home, something that was expected of him, since he had been whining for an hour already that he was tired. yukhei let him rest there, fiddling with the boy’s fingers as he slept and soon enough, they were dozing off on one another.
meanwhile, mark was trying to coax soup into a sick donghyuck, who kept refusing and whining that his throat hurt and food would only make it hurt worse. mark murmured that he knew, but hyuck had to eat something. “c’mon hyuck, you’ve gotta eat something or you’ll get even sicker.” he nearly pleaded with the younger, who finally sighed and allowed his boyfriend to feed him soup, avoiding anything that wasn’t broth like it was the plague. mark finally breathed a sigh of relief as he lifted another spoonful to his mouth, letting him drink that before turning and coughing into his elbow. granted, since donghyuck and mark shared a bed and a dorm and basically their whole lives, donghyuck had immediately spread his cold to mark. so, mark, being the responsible adult he is, ate some of donghyuck’s soup himself, to try and ease the dryness in his throat.
newsflash, it didn’t work.
then, he found himself at the little corner store just off campus, searching for some cold medicine that he quickly bought, along with some little treats and things for when the two of them were better and their throats weren’t sore. on the way back, hyuck texted him that norenmin were going to be at their dorm, since renjun had heard from jaemin who heard from jeno who heard from doyoung who heard from ten who heard from johnny that hyuck was sick, and renjun’s mother instincts had kicked in immediately, dragging his two boyfriends with him to go visit his sick best friend.
mark found them all curled up and asleep on hyuck’s bed, the three healthy ones with masks over their faces. hyuck had saved the spot behind him for mark, which mark quickly took advantage of as he wrapped himself around the smaller boy, lightly brushing his nose along the back of hyuck’s neck. they slept peacefully like that, until somebody stretched out and suddenly both jeno and mark were on the floor, on opposite sides of the bed as they groaned in unison. their respective boyfriend(s) leaned over the edge to check on them, tears of laughter falling down their cheeks.
when mark pulled hyuck down to join him on the floor, jeno clambered back up into the fluffy fortress they had made of blankets and pillows (hyuck soon admitted it was more of a nest than a fortress), and the three of them sprawled out so that there was no room for mark and hyuck, which led to the doggy pile that happened minutes later, after mark snuck a quick kiss from his beautiful boyfriend. then, it turned into war as people were thrown off the bed and alliances were quickly formed and then broken, pillows tossed about and people being wrapped up in the blankets and forced to the ground.
mark still has no idea how they managed to fit the five of them back on the bed, panting from exertion. he just knows that he had the best sleep of his life, curled up behind hyuck and resting underneath jaemin’s arm.
meanwhile, as markhyuck and norenmin napped, as luwoo made their way home, johnny and ten had made it back to their apartment in time to order takeout before the lunch rush hit and that’s where they stayed, eventually inviting doyoung and taeil over when they realized they couldn’t finish all the food. ten somehow coerced doyoung into looking over wedding magazines with him, even though their wedding wasn’t going to be anywhere near as big and grand as the ones pictured. the two of them poured over the pages, figuring out what they would actually need a professional for (aka, the cake and flowers) and what they could do at home, decorations wise. it would only be their friend group, plus johnny’s parents as well as ten’s, and of course, whatever other family would attend, and the four gathered there already knew that ten would be putting the rest of their friends to work on whatever they could do.
johnny and ten had already talked to some people and somehow managed to rent a whole hall at the edge of their university, and had already planned to cook all the food themselves to - hopefully - save money. they would also be setting it up themselves, including the little altar and the chairs, along with all the decorations and tables for the dinner afterwards. taeil was working on getting ordained so he could officiate their marriage, and they were both working on choosing their best men and groomsmen (which included some very intense games of rock, paper, scissors to decide who would get who). they had also already gone in to get their fittings done for both of their suits, deciding to match enough to seem put together but still set apart from one another.
it was a busy time for both of them, but as they sat in the living room of their little apartment with some of their best friends by their sides, eating whatever food had been ordered and looking over wedding magazines, pointing out the little things that they liked. every once in a while, doyoung would smile that bright smile of his and point to something, poke taeil in the side and say “that’s what i want at our wedding one day”, and taeil would smile gently back and nod, while johnny and ten looked on with soft eyes at the two.
however, the moment was ruined by the barrage of loud knocks that echoed through the apartment. johnny got up to open the door, spotting a beaming yukhei and jungwoo right away, who pushed him back in the living room. he sputtered unintelligibly, before they yelled in unison that they had news. not just any news, news. the group that was already gathered there just looked at them in confusion, until jungwoo lifted his hand and showed off the band that was situated on his ring finger, yukhei showing his as well a second later. the group gaped at them, before ten was jumping to his feet and calling out his congratulations as he rushed yukhei first and caught him in a hug, and then jungwoo. the rest weren’t far behind him, congratulating the newly engaged couple.
yukhei and jungwoo joined in on their wedding planning, talking over things with ten as he excitedly showed them what they were planning on. johnny watched, joining in on the excitement when needed but otherwise sitting back and realizing that this? this was his life now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
#nct fic#johnten#johnny seo#chittaphon leechaiyapornkul#luwoo#wong yukhei#kim jungwoo#markhyuck#mark lee#lee donghyuck#doil#kim dongyoung#moon taeil
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Origin
Title: Origin Author: randomwriter57 Rating: G Word Count: 9,961 Event + Prompt: @sormikweek day three - Fear/Excitement (Wind) Notes: i love miraculous ladybug. i love superhero AUs. please don't judge me. you shouldn't need to have seen the show to understand this oneshot, but please let me know if anything is unclear! also feel free to come and yell with me about this AU because i love it a lot.
Summary: There is such thing as magic - both the good kind, and the bad.
Also on: AO3
There is such thing as magic.
That’s what Sorey thinks, anyway. Usually his nature tends to be that of a realistic thinker, but he’s always had a soft spot for the supernatural. It doesn’t matter what kind of magic it is; stereotypical witchcraft or spell-casting, or even forces like fate and destiny. Regardless of the type, magic has to exist in some form or another.
Of course, there’s no proof that he’s right. Even if there is, he has no way of finding it for himself, especially not when he’s in a situation like this.
His father’s study feels like a black hole where magic goes to die. The dark, regal colouring and antique flooring might suggest the opposite. But the atmosphere in the room, the hopelessness permeating the air, is what lets him know he’s right.
Georg Heldalf, Sorey’s father, stands before the window, his back facing him and blocking the outside world from view. The light before him creates the effect of his back being shadowed, hidden from view.
“Please, father,” Sorey pleads. “I promise I’ll be careful, and I’ll come straight home afterwards-”
“I’ve told you time and time again, Sorey,” Georg says without moving to face him. “You will not be going to school and that is final.”
“Is it too much to ask for a single year of being allowed to learn more about the world?”
His father scoffs. “How insolent. I pay for the best tutors in Pendrago to teach you everything you need to know for a full education, and this is the thanks I get. Everything you need is in this house.”
Sorey clenches his fist, turning his gaze to the only other adult in the room. His father’s assistant, Runette, only watches silently, her lips pressed tightly together.
Maybe magic isn’t real after all. At least, it doesn’t exist in this house.
“I appreciate everything you do for me,” Sorey says in a measured tone, “but there’s more for me to see outside this house. More people for me to meet. A life lived without going outside is barely a life at all.”
Georg heaves a great sigh, pushing a hand through his blond hair in agitation. “I have given you everything I could since your birth. Now your mother is gone, I am going through more trouble to keep you safe and happy.”
“But can’t you see that I’m not happy?”
“Leave.” His father’s tone is final, strong and low. “You will not be going to school. I have nothing more to say on the matter.”
For a moment, Sorey waits, desperate to say something else, to try to convince him. In the end, though, all he can do is hold his tongue and leave, heading back through the large, lonely house towards his room.
Now, more than ever, he wishes magic was real. Maybe then he’d have a chance at a normal life.
Mikleo would love for magic to be real. Maybe it would make life easier.
Of course, there's no chance of that happening. Though he enjoys thinking of impossible things, he always sees them for what they are - impossible. That's why he doesn't get his hopes up that high school will be any better than middle school had been, or that some miracle will suddenly fix everything wrong with his life.
When he gets up on the first day of high school, his excitement is tainted by a sense of dread. There won't be many new people in his class, judging on how previous years have been. He'll be stuck in another year with a group of people he's never fit in with, and who never seemed to like him anyway.
Switching off his alarm, he takes a moment to gaze at his phone’s wallpaper, his lips curling upward at the sight of a picture of him with his best friend.
He wishes, not for the first time, that Sorey might be there to brave this new school year with him.
Again, there’s no chance of that happening. Even without the factor of Sorey’s father being the strictest man he’s ever had the misfortune to meet, he hasn’t seen Sorey for months, now. Not since his mother, Selene disappeared.
Locking his phone, he forces himself out of bed, where he puts on his glasses and begins to get ready for the day. His new school uniform is a little big on him, the white blazer sleeves almost dwarfing his palms, but he’ll grow into it. At least when he brushes his mouse-brown hair into a more sophisticated style, he doesn’t look quite so young.
Once he’s ready, he heads downstairs from his attic bedroom into the kitchen. His mother, Muse, is already there, brewing them both cups of tea to go with the cereal which sits on the island counter.
“Good morning, sweet pea,” Muse says through a yawn.
Muse has the same problem as Mikleo in that she’s always busy and never takes breaks. She wakes up at 5am everyday to make pastries for the coming day in the bakery downstairs. Then she spends all day working there, and she does the admin work at night before bed. Somehow, she fits in time to clean the house and do the chores whilst Mikleo is at school, too. He has no idea how she does it.
“Morning,” he replies, sitting down at one of the island stools. He grabs a clean bowl and pours himself some cereal. “How are you?”
“Ready for another busy day, as usual,” she says, putting a strong cup of tea on the counter beside him. “Are you excited for school? First day of a new year, after all.”
Mikleo hums in an unenthusiastic tone. “It’ll be the same as it is every year, mum.”
“But you’re in high school now,” she points out, sitting down to get her own breakfast. “Maybe something exciting will happen that will make your whole year amazing.”
“That would take a miracle, mum.”
‘Or some form of magic,’ he thinks.
A man stands alone in a dark chamber. The only light source is a window high above him, which looks out onto the city from a great height. Though the chamber is shrouded in darkness, there is no furniture to be seen. The only other inhabitants of the room are silver energy particles which float around the man, hovering near the ground.
The man holds out his hand in front of him, where a brooch lies in his palm. A red gem glimmers in the centre of its golden body, shimmering in the low light.
“What did you say you are?” he asks.
In front of him floats a strange being, one with skin of a purple hue and a blob-like form. The little creature has small pointed ears atop its head, and a tail with a fluffy tip.
"I am a kwami named Symonne," the creature says. "I live within the brooch you're holding, the Lion Miraculous."
"And if I wear this brooch, you will grant me powers?" he asks.
"Yes. I provide the power to send off energy to people, which gives them their own powers for a short period of time, under your jurisdiction. They will be able to do as you command them to."
Though the man’s face is hidden in shadows, his teeth gleam in the light. "And if I capture two certain Miraculouses, I might be granted special powers?"
Symonne nods. "Capturing the Miraculous of the Magpie and the Cat will grant you both the powers of creation and destruction, and any wish you ask for will come true."
A grin spreads across his lips. "Then I shall do exactly that. And what better way to lure two Miraculous-holding superheroes than to create supervillains, do you not agree?"
"Yes, master," Symonne says, her own lips curling as she watches him pin the brooch onto his shirt. "All you have to do is ask."
The man, standing tall in his lair, calls out. "Symonne, transform me!"
Darkness envelopes him, swirling around him as his clothing changes. A moment passes before he stands once more, this time clad in an entirely different outfit, one drenched in hues of purple and black. A mask covers his face, hiding his identity behind the image of a lion. The brooch on his collarbone holds together a long black cloak.
“Let it be known now that I am Calamity,” he says. "I shall cover Pendrago in darkness, in order to fulfil my wish. That is my answer."
Calamity lets out a roar of laughter, and for a moment, the world sees nothing but darkness.
The dark aura, for the most part, is unnoticeable. Only a few creatures sense it when it washes over them, one of whom stirs in a small house on the outskirts of the city.
Kyme freezes in the drawer where he usually sleeps, his body wrought with fear. This sensation filling him is one he has only felt a few times before, at times which preceded eras filled with chaos.
It is dread which makes him fly out of the drawer, heading quickly to his master’s side.
He finds Zenrus in the living room of the house, sitting on a pillow in front of the fireplace. He takes a long drag from his pipe, his expression all too calm considering the situation.
“Master,” he says.
Zenrus turns his attention to the green kwami. “Kyme. Is something wrong?”
“Yes, master. I felt a terrible aura. It can only mean one thing.”
“The Lion Miraculous?” When Kyme doesn’t respond, he breathes out the smoke from his pipe. “So, Calamity will rise once more. It was bound to happen one day.”
“But master, it hasn’t even been two decades-”
“There is no use in pondering the reason,” Zenrus says. He pulls out a necklace from around his neck, clutching it in his free hand. “We must make haste in stopping Calamity.”
Kyme zooms over, stopping Zenrus from uttering any more words. “Master, with all due respect, your body is too weak now to transform.”
“I’m still young,” he says, though they both know otherwise. For a man who has lived for centuries, even if he is strong, he does not have the power alone needed to triumph over evil. “But you are right. We must call on those with power stronger than any other.”
He gets up from his seat, moving over to where a music box sits in the corner of the room. Though it looks innocent enough, he opens a panel on it and types in a code. When it opens, it reveals dozens of pieces of jewellery, all inscribed with ancient symbols.
“You will choose another Magpie and Luzrov?” Kyme asks hesitantly. He isn’t sure he wants to know the answer. Hearing the truth will only tell him how much their city, and perhaps even their world, is at stake.
Zenrus nods gravely. “In times like these, it is only these two who may put an end to the evil threatening our world. I’m afraid it is a necessity.”
For a moment, they both stay silent, contemplating the war which will begin the moment these Miraculouses come into use. It will be a long struggle, if the past instances are anything to go by. They’ll need to use all of their strength, and choose heroes with unwavering hearts.
Kyme turns his attention to his master. “Where should we begin?”
It’s surprisingly easy to sneak out of Sorey’s house.
He’s only done it a few times before, and he’s never gone much farther than the end of the street. That being said, he could have gone farther, if he’d wanted. His only issue is the guilt which crawls into his throat at the thought of being caught.
This time, however, when he climbs out of his window and over the wall surrounding the house, he doesn’t look back. To get what he’s always wanted, he can’t back out now. Otherwise he’ll never get to go to school, have a normal life, make new friends and see his existing ones more often.
And lord knows seeing Mikleo right now would be good enough to make this whole trip worth it.
He runs down the street, heading in the direction of the local high school. Pendrago is a large city, but most of the public services are very central, and with his father’s house being in the city centre, it’s fairly easy to find where he’s going. Not having an escort tailing him makes getting around a lot easier, too.
As he moves into more crowded areas, he forces himself to slow his pace to a fast walk. He can’t have himself sticking out in such a huge crowd, lest someone recognises him from the few pictures online of his father with his family, back when his political power stretched further.
All he’s going to do is enrol for classes. If he does that, surely his father will understand his resolve.
The school building looms in the distance, and he speeds up, ready to run straight in. However, as he approaches it, he sees an old man crossing the street in front of the school. The man walks with a cane and a hunched back, very slowly and uncertainly. The ringing of the school bell punctuates the moment his foot slips, and he falls to the ground, just as a car turns the corner.
When Sorey moves now, it is an instinct more than a thought process. One moment he’s watching from afar, the next he kneels beside the man on the road. He picks up the man’s cane before turning to him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, offering an arm. “Can you stand?”
The car approaching grinds to a halt as the old man takes Sorey’s arm, using it to levy himself off the ground and onto his feet once more. They move onto the pavement and Sorey passes him his cane with a warm smile, which the old man returns gratefully.
Before either Sorey or the man can say anything, though, the halted car’s door slams, and a familiar voice assaults his ears.
“Sorey!” His father’s assistant Runette stands by the car, her eyes wide with anger, chest heaving. “You must come home at once!”
Feeling his heart crush in his chest, Sorey turns to face her. He doesn’t notice as the old man walks away, barely using his cane at all to move. “Please, you don’t understand. I’ve wanted this for so long-”
“Your father has told you time and again. Neither he or I will make any exceptions.”
The sound of a crowd grows, and Sorey knows if he doesn’t want to cause a scene whilst the students are going for lunch, he should stand down. But he can’t bring himself to give up. This is his last chance at convincing his father - or at least his assistant - that he ought to be allowed to attend public school.
“I understand that my father is worried for me,” Sorey says, “but I don’t see any issue with this. School is meant to be a safe place. Why would I get hurt here?”
“You will not be attending, and that is final.”
“Please-”
“Sorey?”
This voice feels like a blessing and a curse when he hears it.
Sorey whips around, his heart racing as he sees the familiar figure of Mikleo standing a few feet away. He’s wearing the school’s uniform, complete with the iconic white blazer Sorey has seen people wearing when he passes the school in the car. The formal dress is a little surprising, but he can’t say it doesn’t suit Mikleo. The only thing which doesn’t seem to belong on his face is the confusion and concern forming in his violet eyes.
“Mikleo,” Sorey says weakly.
“What are you doing here?” Mikleo asks, looking between Sorey and Runette. “Is something wrong?”
When Sorey opens his mouth to answer, he feels Runette’s ice-cold glare in the back of his head more than he hears her speak his name in a warning tone.
He holds up a finger to represent “one second” before rushing over to Mikleo.
“There isn’t time to explain everything right now,” Sorey says. “Can I call you later?”
Though Mikleo looks like he wants to ask more questions, he settles for a nod. “Alright. Just don’t scare me like that in the future, okay?”
“Thanks, Mikleo.”
Sorey heads back toward Runette, hesitating when he sees the escort car waiting for him, ready to return him to a life he will never escape from.
There’s no point in resisting, though. All he can do is obey the wishes of his father. He’s powerless to do anything else.
Zenrus turns the corner, heading into an alleyway behind the school. It’s shaded enough that onlookers shouldn’t see more than a silhouette if they happen to glance over as they pass by. Reaching into his pocket, he removes an ornate jewellery box in the shape of a hexagon, marked with symbols only he and a few others understand.
“Take this to that boy’s house,” he tells Kyme, who comes out from his hiding spot in Zenrus’ other pocket.
“Are you certain? This boy is definitely the right one for the Magpie Miraculous?”
Part of Zenrus wishes Kyme wouldn’t be so cautious, but then again, he is the same way. “I only ever chose wrongly once, years ago. I will not allow that to happen again.”
With that as his answer, Kyme gives in, taking the box from his master. He is dwarfed by its size, but he manages to carry it with him as he flies off into the sky on his mission.
Watching after him, Zenrus grasps his cane. There is nothing left to do now but search for the other hero their city needs, and then hope he’s made the right decision.
As the black car drives away, Mikleo wonders if this day can get any weirder.
Not only has he just been faced with the sight of his best friend for the first time in months, having an argument in front of his school. He’s also been in classes where he doesn’t recognise a single person, and watched his History teacher lose his composure over the rudeness of a few careless students.
To be fair, Mikleo can understand why his teacher was upset. Professor Uno seems like an intelligent and patient man. For a class to give such a rude first impression, interrupting constantly and bickering without any care for their teacher’s warnings, it doesn’t give him hope for the rest of the school year. If the other students would just be more considerate, maybe things would be better.
A crash interrupts his thoughts, followed by a shriek of fear. He whips back to face the school, heart stopping as he sees what stands at the door.
Rather than a person, it’s more of a half-human, half-snake creature. The blue tail suggests it’s more snakelike, along with the scales crawling up the man’s exposed neck and face. His hair falls around his shoulders in a mess, his eyes now slits, glowing with rage. Strangest of all, he wears a snake around his neck.
“Students,” the man calls out, “My name is Uroboros. It is time you were taught a lesson in manners!”
When Mikleo said he wanted people to be more considerate, this isn’t how he expected them to be taught about it.
He backs away behind one of the pillars supporting the school building, watching from behind it as the snake man moves towards the fleeing students, swiping at them with long claws. It’s a sight unlike anything he’s seen before, unlike anything he’s ever wanted to see, and for a horrifying moment, he wonders if this is the proof he desired that magic exists.
If it is, he kind of wishes he never found out.
Uroboros swipes at a pillar, causing the roof to cave in, stone dust and debris falling from above. Mikleo has to run to get out of the way, holding one arm over his head and the other over his mouth, the fabric of his blazer hot against his lips from his breaths. As he reaches the corner of the building, he notices an old man standing nearby, a look of horror in his eyes as his cane lies abandoned a few feet away.
“You need to get out of here!” Mikleo yells, getting the man’s attention. He runs toward him, picking up the cane and handing it to him. “I’ll help you to safety.”
Without giving him a chance to respond, Mikleo grabs the man’s arm and drags him around the corner, running with him down the alleyway toward the next street down. It’s a useful shortcut to know, one which leads to a main street with plenty shops lining the streets. He drags the man into one at random. The door opens with a crash, and the woman behind the counter startles as he rushes in.
“There’s something attacking near the school,” Mikleo explains, letting go of the man’s arm. “Please look after this man. Lock all the doors and alert the others on this street.”
The woman nods, too scared and shocked to say a word, and Mikleo runs out of the shop again. If someone is terrorising the school, he can’t bring himself to sit back and do nothing.
In the shop, Zenrus gives a reassuring smile to the cashier before heading to the door. “The young boy is right. Please stay inside.”
The woman says, “Where are you going?”
“I have far more important things to be doing than hiding,” he answers cryptically.
As he leaves the shop and rushes down the street as fast as his legs will take him - which, to be fair, is a lot slower than it used to be - he can’t help the heavy feeling in his heart.
“I suppose the white cat runs in your blood,” he says to himself as he runs toward a certain bakery, where a pair of violet eyes reside, matching those of the boy he has chosen.
It’s only once Sorey gets back to his bedroom and turns on his TV that he hears about what’s happening.
He sits down on his sofa, reclining and ready to find another documentary he’s already watched a thousand times, only to find himself bombarded with news announcements.
“A man with the tail of a snake has been spotted roaming near the Pendrago High School,” the news reporter says. The footage switches to an aerial shot of the school, where it shows an unbelievable creature who truly has the body of a snake. “The creature is incredibly violent. We urge citizens to stay at home if possible, and not to engage the beast at all costs.”
“This is crazy,” Sorey murmurs, watching in horror as the snake creature swipes at a passing student. “Is this real?”
It occurs to him, that Mikleo had been near the school only minutes ago. He hopes with all his heart that he managed to get away.
His head drops as he wonders how this will end up. Will someone be able to stop the beast? Or will it continue terrorising innocent people? This is the kind of thing which only happens in comic books, but as far as he knows, there aren’t any superheros in Pendrago.
Catching sight of something in the corner of his eye, he looks up. In the centre of his coffee table sits an antique jewellery box.
It’s like nothing he’s seen before. Though the markings have come up in textbooks and online articles he’s read about ancient relics, he can’t figure out its origin era, or what it’s supposed to mean. Most confusing of all, of course, is how it ended up in his room. He’s never seen it before, and neither his father nor his assistants are the types to give gifts at random.
Well, he has nothing to lose. He opens the jewellery box.
Suddenly, a burst of white light surrounds him, and he squints his eyes as something materialises before him. It takes a moment for the light to disappear before he sees an unfamiliar creature floating in the air above the box. It looks a little like a bird, though it’s an unnatural shade of green, and it has a little antenna thing sticking out from its head. It also grins at him, which Sorey is unsure birds are usually able to do.
His expression changes to a disappointed frown a moment later. “Awww, I’d been hoping for a pretty lady this time.”
Sorey blinks, unsure how much more surprised he can get. He isn’t sure whether to ask what it is or why it can talk or what. In the end, what comes out of his mouth is, “Sorry?”
The thing, whatever he is, crosses his arms behind his head, letting his expression become easygoing once more. “Welp, can’t be helped. Hey kid, the name’s Zaveid. Looks like I’ll be your kwami from here on out.”
“What?” Sorey asks, getting even more confused at this new terminology. “What does that mean? Who are you?”
The kwami - Zaveid - rolls his eyes in exasperation. “I just told you, I’m Zaveid, a kwami. Seriously, you got ears, don’t you?” He looks down at the jewellery box, prompting Sorey to do the same. “See those earrings? That’s where I live.”
They’re an ordinary looking pair of silver ear cuffs, each with two black beads attached to them.
“You live in the earrings?” Sorey asks.
“Yup. If you put them on and say “transform me”, I grant you super special powers, and you can purify evil.”
Sorey’s eyes widen, slowly beginning to understand what Zaveid is talking about. “Wait, you can make people have magic?”
Zaveid grins. “Yeah. With my help, you’ll be a superhero. You up for it?”
“Of course! This is the kind of thing I’ve always dreamed of!” Sorey jumps up from the sofa, taking the earrings out of the box. As he puts them on, he continues with his questions, trying to pry more information out of the kwami.
Though Zaveid doesn’t tell him much, he learns this: with these earrings, he will become a hero with the power to create a lucky item to help him defeat villains. These are people who have been tainted by evil creatures known as akumas, which are controlled by - well, he’s not sure, Zaveid changes the subject before he can ask. In any case, as a hero, he’ll have the strength and ability to save those in need, and to purify the akumas, returning the victims to their original states.
“So you mean to say the snake thing attacking the school is an akuma victim?” Sorey asks, looking over to the TV once more.
“Looks like it,” Zaveid says. He doesn’t sound like he’s in much of a hurry as he says, “You should probably be quick. Looks like that guy’s only getting angrier.”
With both earrings on, there’s nothing stopping Sorey from going now. He clenches his hand into a fist, then grins confidently.
“Alright. Zaveid, transform me!”
Zaveid is sucked into his earrings, and light explodes around him. His body is encompassed by a warm aura, and he finds his clothes changing to a black and white bodysuit, fit with a colourful bird’s tail and thigh-high lace up boots. A mask with a pointed, beak-like nose covers his face, and he runs a glove-covered hand through his hair, messing it up a little to make it more windswept. White feathers sprout from his earrings, brushing against his skin.
The moment passes, and he finds himself alone in his room, now in a strange outfit.
Still, Sorey has never felt so powerful before. Now, he feels like he’s capable of anything.
“This is amazing!” he says, looking over himself. “So now what do I do?”
Only silence answers him.
“Zaveid?” he says, looking around himself. The kwami is nowhere to be seen.
“Alright,” he says to himself. “Guess I’ll figure it out as I go along.”
He rushes over to the window and jumps out, ready to take on whatever this creature will throw at him.
Mikleo’s chest heaves with exertion. He’s been running around the school for longer than he can keep track of, now. At least it looks like he’s helped most of the stragglers to safety at this point, but if there are any more here, he’s not sure how much help he’ll be. He’s already out of energy, and no one has shown up to tackle the snake man yet.
All he can do is hope that someone will come to save the day. After all, if snake people exist, then there must also be someone with the power to best them. Well at least, that’s what he hopes.
He makes sure the coast is clear before running out from his hiding spot, trying to find the best way of getting away from the school. It’ll do no good if he gets caught by that snake man now.
The door is in sight. He runs toward it at full speed, hoping the snake is where he left it, nearer the rear of the school than the front entrance. He gets outside, toward the debris where pillars have fallen, and it’s only at the last moment that he hears the sound of crumbling rock.
‘Oh no,’ he thinks.
Before he can even move to protect himself, something comes barrelling into him, pushing him out of the building as the stone pillars fall, blocking the door. He lands on the ground with a thud and a large weight on top of him, pinning him to the ground.
The weight shifts.
“Are you alright?” someone asks.
Mikleo opens his eyes, his heart hammering as he takes in the image of someone new, someone he’s sure he’s never seen before and yet feels some sort of familiarity toward. This guy - he has to be a superhero, no one else would wear that getup and push people out of collapsing buildings with that strength - but there’s something in his green eyes that Mikleo feels like he should recognise.
“I-I’m fine,” he stammers, still shell-shocked. He swallows to regain his composure before speaking again. “Who are you?”
The hero gets up off of him before offering a hand, pulling him back onto his feet with ease. “My name is So- er, Magpie,” he says. “I’m here to help get rid of a snake problem?”
For a moment, Mikleo isn’t sure exactly what to say. He’s never thought about being in this kind of situation before. Everything happening to him has put his head in such a spin, it feels like his whole knowledge of normal conversation has gone right out of his head.
In the end, he looks over in the direction of the school building. “I suspect it’s in there somewhere.”
Magpie nods, his feathered earrings blowing in the wind with the ends of his windswept hair. “Thanks. Let me get you to safety first, though. Can’t have you getting bit, after all.”
He ends his sentence with a cheeky smile. Mikleo can’t help but wonder how he can smile in this dangerous situation.
In the end, he doesn’t get a choice in this matter. Magpie picks him up in a fireman’s lift with ease, using a running start before running and jumping up onto the building opposite the school. He runs along the rooftops, bridging the gaps with jumps Mikleo can’t imagine a normal person making. It’s only a matter of minutes before he drops Mikleo off on the balcony of his family’s bakery, where the trapdoor leads down into Mikleo’s room.
“How did you know this is my house?” Mikleo asks as Magpie sets him down.
The hero gives a loud laugh, scratching the back of his head. “Lucky guess? Anyway, I’d better go. Stay safe!”
With that, Magpie flits off again, leaving Mikleo to watch in a bewilderment.
“Messed that up,” Sorey mutters to himself as he makes his way back toward the school. “I almost completely blew my cover! Of course Mikleo would be the first one I’d bump into…”
Had it been any other situation, Sorey would have told Mikleo everything right away. After all, this is something they could both enthuse over, sharing their amazement at the existence of superpowers and heroes and ancient earrings with magical birds living inside of them. In the end, though, there’s no way he can say anything. Zaveid made as much clear earlier, when he told Sorey about the Miraculous.
“Oh, but you can’t tell anyone,” he said, his face growing serious only then. “Not your mum, not your girlfriend, no one.”
Sorey didn’t know how to tell Zaveid that his mum is dead and that he doesn’t have - or want - a girlfriend. He got the gist, though, and that’s why he knows not to tell Mikleo.
Still, he can’t help but feel a little more comfortable, now that’s over. At least he can rest assured that Mikleo is safe at home. Now he can focus fully on fighting the akuma.
He makes his way back to the school, glad to see that the snake has remained within the courtyard. It fumes with rage, but Sorey tries not to think too much about that. If he stands a chance of beating this thing, he’ll do better if he doesn’t worry about how angry it looks.
The only problem now is that he has no idea how to take this thing down. Sure, he has a weapon, though it’s a magical recorder, which Sorey doesn’t even know how to play, let alone how to use in close combat. The only other thing he knows he can do is summon a lucky item, but there’s no guarantee it will be of any use either.
As he watches the creature tear down another pillar, though, he knows there’s no other option.
Lifting the recorder to his lips, his hands somehow know exactly what to do. He plays a short tune, a ball of light forming at the base of the instrument. Then he throws that light into the sky and cries, “Lucky charm!”
The light grows above him, twisting and forming into an unrecognisable shape before disappearing. At the same time as it disappears, a book falls from the sky into his hand.
“A book?” he says, frowning as he examines the cover. It looks like a school-issued textbook, though he has no idea why this is going to be of any use.
“You!” a voice cries before he can figure it out.
Sorey stows the book in his belt, hoping it won’t slip out, and turns his attention to the akuma. Since it’s noticed him by now, there’s no way he can hide. All he can do is fight.
“Hey, snake face!” Sorey yells to it. “What’s got your tail in a twist?”
“People like you!” Uroboros says, lashing out at the pillar supporting the roof where Sorey stands. He barely manages to escape before it crumbles, running along the roof as the snake follows, pushing every pillar it sees to the ground. “People who have no consideration! Brats like you need to be taught a lesson, and that’s what I will do!”
(Uroboros, in his anger, almost does not hear the voice in his head, reminding him of his duty. When he hears it, though, he hisses, knowing his duty and vowing to obey.)
“Pretty dangerous lesson,” Sorey says, hopping over to a nearby tree. “Does it really need to involve so much destruction?”
“There is no better way,” the snake says. “But your lesson will be different. Before I can punish you, I must have those earrings!”
Sorey sighs. Of course this is how things would turn out. “Isn’t stealing pretty inconsiderate? How ironic.”
He hops out of the tree, moving along lampposts and other trees, using roofs as leverage as Uroboros follows, destroying everything he touches. Sorey can’t help but worry how long all this will take to fix.
Still, as he runs, his head spins with options. He needs to figure out a plan, some way to use this book, or to trap the akuma victim-
That’s it!
He changes his course, setting off in the direction of the school once more. “Bet you can’t catch me!”
Uroboros, as expected, follows in a blind rage, entering the school courtyard through the side, the only area not blocked by pillars. Sorey then runs around the debris, hopping onto the roof supported by the last remaining pillars.
“You will be taught a lesson!” the snake cries out, lashing out at the pillars.
As expected, the pillars crumble. Sorey barely manages to hop away before the roof falls with them, a crash of dust and debris falling to the ground. With all the exits blocked off, Uroboros can only cry out in frustration as Sorey remains out of his reach.
There’s no time to celebrate, though. Before he can even wonder what to do next, his earrings beep at him, reminding him of something else he’d forgotten: time.
Zaveid's voice floats through his mind, a reminder of their earlier conversation. “If you use your power, you’ll only have five minutes until you transform back. We kwamis can’t keep up for longer than that.”
He groans. Even if he has the villain cornered, of course he’s going to run into another complication. And all for the sake of a book he doesn’t know the use of.
Pulling the book out from his belt, he begins to sift through the pages, ignoring how the snake man yells at him from below. He doesn’t hear when the snake man grips the debris, trying to climb up the wall to reach him.
Sorey reaches the last page. Uroboros reaches the edge of the roof.
Someone suddenly plucks the book from Sorey’s hands and throws it at the snake, making him fall down once more.
When Sorey looks up, his heart stops. In front of him stands a boy painted in white, with fluffy cloud-like hair and a white super suit not unlike his own. Two pointed ears pop up from between tufts of hair. His left wrist bears a bracelet of gold, with a small aquamarine jewel embedded within it.
Perhaps the most intriguing thing about him are his eyes, hidden behind a white mask, a vibrant violet against his pale palette. The colour extends to the sclera, covering what would usually be white in a pale lilac hue.
Sorey’s first thought is, ‘I’m in love.’
His second is, ‘This guy is like me.’
“Aren’t you reckless,” the stranger says, regarding him with a judging gaze. “You should pay more attention to your surroundings.”
Sorey barely manages to snap put of his stupor to give a response. “I- uh- thanks?”
The stranger's lips curl up a little, and he turns away. “Go and rest up, and come back once you’re done. I can hold this thing off for now.”
The beeping in Sorey's ears reminds him that he ought to hurry in doing so. Before he leaves, however, he asks, “Who are you?”
The hero looks over his shoulder at him, his gaze steady as he answers. “Luzrov.”
The name tingles sweetly on Sorey’s lips, and he can’t help but smile when he repeats it. “Luzrov. Thanks, I’ll be back!”
He rushes off, feeling his energy soar at the thought of having someone like Luzrov at his side.
Mikleo isn’t entirely sure how his day has gotten to this point. He’s a little under the impression that he’ll wake up at some point, finding this all to be a dream.
The too-real feeling of fear as he stands near the snake akuma, alone, is enough to tell him that this is actually happening.
Once Magpie dropped him off at home, he rushed back into his room, turning on the computer in his room and waiting impatiently for the live news stream to load. As he tapped his foot, he noticed a jewellery box sitting on his desk where he knew it hadn’t been this morning.
Long story short, that jewellery box is what got him here. Who’d have thought, when he woke up this morning, that he’d be a superhero by afternoon?
Of course, he’d been entirely disbelieving, at first. It had taken a solid ten minutes for his kwami, Lailah, to calm him down, speaking carefully to get him to understand the situation. She went through everything she could with him, though there were certain things she couldn’t answer due to lack of knowing, and other things she wouldn’t answer, for reasons Mikleo did not know.
In any case, he has the gist of it, and now he’s here.
Fighting an akuma.
Alone, apparently.
Well, not entirely alone. Magpie will come back. All Mikleo has to do is wait until he has rested enough. It should be easy to keep the snake man trapped until then.
Except the snake is stronger than he anticipates. By the time Magpie leaves, Uroboros has carved away a chunk of the debris surrounding the courtyard, trying to dig his way out. Mikleo springs into action, running over to that side of the roof and using his staff to whack the snake away from the new exit.
A moment later, the snake swipes out at him, throwing him to the other side.
“Another brat!” he yells. “You will be taught a lesson, all of you! But not before I take your Miraculous!”
“You’re not taking anything of mine,” Mikleo says through gritted teeth, forcing himself back onto his feet. “And you’re not getting away, either! I can’t have you destroying Pendrago just because of your anger.”
“Oh? You think you can stop me?” Uroboros hisses. In a flash, he makes his way toward him, giving him only seconds to jump back onto the roof.
Still, it’s not quite safe yet. Uroboros swipes at the wall supporting the roof, causing that part of the roof to crumble under Mikleo’s feet. It’s all he can do to jump at the last second, scurrying away from the falling chunks, trying to find stable land.
“Hurry up, Magpie,” he mutters, his heart freezing as the snake lashes out at the wall beneath him.
“Grape mille-feuille? Seriously?”
Zaveid nods with a serious expression, though the effect is dampened by how exhausted he looks. His antenna droops from lack of energy. “Yup. Best thing for getting back energy, don’t you think?”
“Are you sure you can’t eat anything else?” Sorey asks, glancing at the kwami where he rests in his bag. “There aren’t many bakeries that sell something so fancy, you know.”
“Come on, there has to be somewhere around here,” Zaveid says. “And you can’t complain about the price. I saw your house. You’re loooooooaded, kid.”
“Just because my family has money doesn’t mean I can magic up fancy sweets at your whim,” Sorey mutters.
Seriously, he never would have guessed kwamis would be such hard work. Sure, he’s worried. He doesn’t want Zaveid to be low on energy for too long, but they’re kind of running on a time limit, here.
Glancing around himself, he sees that most of the stores nearby are closed, shutters down over the doors and windows. That much is to be expected, of course - this is the first time an attack like this has happened. It could destroy anything and anyone. This way things are much safer. It does make it more difficult to find a bakery that is still open, though.
The only one he can think of that might let him in is-
“Oh, that’s it!”
Sorey rushes down the street, turning a corner and heading in a direction he knows all too well.
“What, you found someplace?” Zaveid asks.
“My best friend’s family runs a bakery,” Sorey explains. “They make all kinds of sweets. I wouldn’t be surprised if they make your fancy grape things, too!”
It only takes a minute to reach the bakery, which thankfully doesn’t have its doors locked. He rushes in, the bell chiming above his head as he does. Muse looks up from the counter when he enters, her eyes widening.
“Sorey?” she says. “What are you doing here? Are you looking for Mikleo?”
“Not this time,” he says. “Do you by any chance make grape mille-feuille?”
“Yes, we do,” Muse says, her eyebrows drawn inward.
Catching a glimpse of his bag, Sorey sees Zaveid flash a quick thumbs-up, and he nods at Muse. “That’s perfect. Could I get one, please?”
As Muse bags up the treat, she says, “Isn’t this a strange time to be looking for sweets?”
“I guess,” he says. “Oh, speaking of Mikleo, though, did he make it home safe?”
Her hand freezes on the tongs, and she lays them down. “I haven’t seen him. I thought I heard the roof trapdoor open, but he wasn’t there when I went up to check on him.”
Fear strikes Sorey’s heart. If Mikleo isn’t here, then where could he be? This is exactly where he left him, after all. And how could he have left the house again without Muse noticing? And why would he?
All this worrying is making his head hurt.
He quickly pays for the mille-feuille, thanking Muse, before rushing out of the bakery again, this time with a new sense of urgency. He needs to get back and help Luzrov, before it finds Mikleo, or anyone else it could hurt.
At Pendrago castle, Uroboros pulls down a tree without mercy. Mikleo hops out of its branches, leaping between lampposts and praying he won’t catch up. There aren’t many civilians around, at the very least. Most of them seem to have left when the news alerts were broadcasted, though a couple of stragglers scream their way away from the akuma as it approaches. It’s lucky Mikleo is as fast on his feet as he is now, or else he’d have no chance of distracting Uroboros long enough to give them time to escape.
Speaking of luck, he thinks his is starting to wear thin. He's running out of lampposts, and the only other thing nearby that he could possibly use as leverage would be the castle itself. The possibility of this creature damaging such an important historical building makes him feel sick to his stomach, but he supposes he'd rather have that over someone dying because he lured the villain too close to other people.
He braces himself before leaping onto the castle ramparts, running along the walls to reach the main building. Uroboros follows behind, though he can only tell by the sound of its tail slithering over the ground and his angry complaining. He doesn’t dare look back at it, too afraid of what he might see.
Once reaches the main courtyard of the castle, he leads Uroboros in the front, taking him as far into the castle as he can from above. Only once they reach the innermost chamber before the main building does he pause, turning back.
In contrast to the destruction outside of it, the castle itself is entirely undamaged. Not a single brick lays out of place, not a dent within them. Uroboros doesn’t even try to strike out at the walls around him, where Mikleo has him almost cornered.
“It’s not attacking,” he murmurs in amazement. “But why?”
“Maybe because he’s a history teacher.”
Mikleo jumps in surprise at the sudden reappearance of Magpie, who stands a few feet away, holding the forgotten textbook.
“How do you figure?” he asks once he gets over the sudden shock, ignoring the mischievous grin which spreads across Magpie’s lips at his reaction.
“This is a history textbook,” Magpie says, flipping it open to a chapter entitled The Era of Asgard. “I looked through it earlier. It's really fascinating stuff, and that has to be the reason why he won’t damage the castle.”
“What, because he cares about history? I suppose it makes sense, but then you have to wonder how he became akumatised in the first place.”
Magpie shrugs. “I think he was angry at his students.”
Looking back at Uroboros, Mikleo squints, trying to see through blue scales to the face underneath. Something clicks for him a moment later.
“It can’t be – Professor Uno?!”
The snake yells in anger. “I am Uno no longer! My name is Uroboros, and I will punish all those who do not listen!”
“You know this guy?” Magpie asks.
“He’s an acquaintance,” Mikleo answers. “But that answers one question. Now all we have to do is purify him, right?”
“Yeah!”
A long moment of silence passes between the two of them. Then, hesitantly, Magpie says, “How do we do that?”
In that moment, the amount that Mikleo was impressed by Magpie goes down exponentially.
“Didn’t you talk to your kwami before transforming?” he says.
“O-of course I did!” he sputters. “He wasn’t exactly specific about methodology, though. All I know is that we need to find the thing that was infected by the akuma and destroy it.”
“So like a trinket of some kind?”
“Yeah. Glasses, a bag, anything that’s part of his personal effects that was there before he turned.”
Mikleo turns to look at Uroboros once more. He looks so different from when he was human that Mikleo can’t really tell what’s new and what he had on him already. All he notices that looks suspicious is the snake around his neck which looks almost like the blue tie he’d worn earlier in class.
“Do you think it might be his tie?” Mikleo asks.
Magpie hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Might be. It’d be worth a shot, right?”
“Well sure, but we still have to get close enough to break it.”
“Time for some close combat, I guess,” Magpie says, moving to the edge of the roof. “You up for it?”
“It’s not like there’s any other choice.” Mikleo moves to stand at Magpie’s side, looking out over the castle where the akuma lies. “If you distract it, I might be able to destroy the tie using my power.”
“You can destroy things?” Magpie asks, wide-eyed. “That’s so cool!”
Mikleo rolls his eyes at the praise. “You can create things from thin air. I’m just doing my part, too.”
They both turn back to face the akuma victim, and on the count of three, they drop down, ready to fight.
“I’ll distract it,” Magpie says before calling out to Uroboros. “Hey, snake-face! Over here!”
When the distraction works, Mikleo takes his chance. He rushes around the side of the snake, watching out for its tail as he swipes it at Magpie. He pulls out his staff and extends it, quickly thinking through the logistics of how this thing might work in their favour.
“Gotta try harder than that!” Magpie yells at Uroboros, flitting out of his reach again. He glances over in Mikleo’s direction, waiting for a signal.
Mikleo gulps. This is all on him - if their plan fails, it’ll be his fault.
All he can do is try.
He raises a hand in a claw and summons his power. “Cataclysm!”
A tingling sensation fills his hand, a buzz of darkness swarming around the white glove of his suit. He holds it out of the way as he uses his other hand to hold the staff, extending it beneath him to push himself into the air. As he jumps over Uroboros, he reaches his other hand down, his fingers grazing the edge of the tie.
It’s enough to do the job. The snake-shaped tie hisses as it crumples into dust. A purple blob of energy comes out of it, floating slowly upward. Before either of them can do anything, it suddenly grows larger, collecting in a giant mass above them, forming into the shape of a lion’s head.
“Listen well,” it says in a low, deep rumble. “I am Calamity. I cannot be stopped or quelled, and I will without doubt take those Miraculous of yours. I will cause chaos in this city. Weaklings like you will not stop me. You might as well hand them over right now.”
Mikleo glares at the lion’s head, ready to answer, but Magpie steps out before he can say anything.
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Magpie says. He stands tall and confident, even against the threat of a supervillain. “You can try as much as you like to cause destruction, but Luzrov and I will always be here to stop you. There’s no way you’ll be having our Miraculous. So just wait, Calamity. You’ll be the one giving yours up, and then this city will be brought to peace again.”
When Magpie looks over his shoulder at Mikleo, he steps forward, joining him at his side.
“That’s right,” he says.
“Fools,” Calamity says. “You will pay the price for your idiocy.”
Magpie smirks, then using his weapon, he jumps up and cuts through the ball of malevolence, purifying it with a single strike. The akuma is the only remnant, which he quickly purifies with a short melody. Then he tosses his lucky charm book into the air. A flame-like substance spreads from it, reaching endlessly over the sky for a moment, fixing everything that was broken by the fight.
The moment ends, and the city is brought to peace once more.
“Okay, that was pretty incredible,” Mikleo says, turning to his new partner in fighting crime. He holds up a fist. “Nice job.”
Magpie grins before bumping their wrists together. “Nice job, Luzrov. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
At that moment, Mikleo’s bracelet decides to beep at him, warning him of his time limit. “Well, I’d better go. See you soon, Magpie.”
With that, Mikleo uses his staff to move to higher ground, ready to get back home and finally rest.
(He doesn’t notice how Magpie watches as he goes, eyes filled with a fondness which seems far too great for people who have only just met. And yet, the warmth in his heart indicates that this bond will only become stronger, and he can’t wait to see his new partner again.)
It’s only natural that Mikleo is exhausted, the next morning.
When he got home last night, he barely said a greeting to his mother before collapsing into bed, passing out quickly from all the excitement of the previous hours. He wakes up not long before his alarm, starving and still aching from the fight yesterday. The sound of raindrops on his window soothes him a little, but not enough to make him feel any better physically.
“Oh, you’re awake,” a small voice says.
He turns his head to see Lailah on his pillow, smiling at him. She doesn’t look at all tired, and he supposes she must have gotten herself something to eat whilst he slept.
“Morning, Lailah,” he says. “So it wasn’t a dream, huh?”
Lailah gives a little laugh. Her tail flicks on the pillow. “No, it was real. You both did a wonderful job, yesterday.”
“Will that happen often?” he asks, uncertain. Even if he has this power now, knowing that the city will be in danger is concerning.
“Yes,” Lailah says, her ears drooping. “I’m afraid Calamity will not stop until the city is covered in chaos. Only you and Magpie have the power to stop him.”
He lets out a deep breath through his nose. When he signed up to this yesterday, he had no idea how serious this would become. And yet, he can’t bring himself to regret his decision, when he thinks about the number of people he saved yesterday.
Sitting up, he says, “I suppose I’d better do my best from here on out, then. I’ll be counting on you, Lailah.”
Floating up to his side, Lailah’s eyes are filled with hope. “I have every faith that you’ll make a wonderful Luzrov, Mikleo.”
He gets ready for school as usual, feeling a tad less reluctant than yesterday. When he heads downstairs for breakfast, his mother greets him with her usual smile. Somehow, today she looks more tired than yesterday. She stays quiet as he comes in, watching him as he pours his cereal for himself. He’s glad his bracelet is covered by his blazer, since he can only imagine the questions he’d get for having it.
Eventually, his mother speaks.
“Where were you yesterday?” she says. “During that attack, we were so worried for you. We heard you come in, but you weren’t there when we checked.”
Mikleo tries not to let his thoughts show on his face when he thinks, ‘Oh crap.’
“I forgot something at school,” Mikleo lies. “It was my phone. I couldn’t leave it there.”
Muse’s expression only becomes more distraught at his answer. “I thought you had more common sense than that. Wasn’t that monster at the school?”
“It wasn’t there when I got back,” Mikleo says. “I won’t do it again though, I promise.”
For a moment, she keeps up the pretence of being angry with him. She can’t hold it forever, though, and she ends up moving over to hug him tightly.
“You’d better not,” she says.
Mikleo hopes he’ll be able to hide it better in the future, or else this superhero business will be a lot tougher than he thought it would be.
Once he finishes breakfast and gathers his stuff, he says goodbye to his mum and heads out of the bakery house. The rain falls lightly on his head, cool and refreshing. He doesn’t have an umbrella, but that hasn’t stopped him from walking in the rain before. He might be soaked by the time he reaches school, of course, but he tries not to think about that.
Stepping away from the bakery door, he moves out onto the pavement-
Only to find that the rain suddenly stops.
Well, it doesn’t stop completely. He can see it falling in front of him, and can hear it pattering on the umbrella over his head. Sure enough, there’s now a stretch of clear plastic above his head, an umbrella held out by none other than-
“Sorey?!”
Sorey stands behind him, holding out the umbrella as the rain dampens his hair, running down his silver earcuffs and onto the shoulders of a brown cardigan, emblazoned with a familiar coat of arms.
“Morning, Mikleo,” Sorey says. His smile and the fondness in his eyes are warm enough to make Mikleo shiver.
Mikleo finds for a long moment that he can’t speak, his throat constricted by some unknown force. When he finally finds words, he says, “What are you wearing?”
In a teasing tone, Sorey says, “What does it look like I’m wearing?”
“Did you actually convince your dad?” Mikleo asks in disbelief. “How?”
“Turns out sneaking out of the house to go to school is a good way to make strict parents believe you want to go to school,” Sorey says with a shrug. “I dunno, though. When I got home Runette told me he’d said it was okay.”
Mikleo’s heart stutters. Somehow, everything he’d wanted is coming true. Magic is real, life is looking up, and his best friend will be in the same class as him from now on.
He couldn’t be happier.
“We should get going, or we’ll be late,” Mikleo says, pushing the umbrella so it shelters them both. The proximity between them strikes pins and needles into his arm, but he doesn’t shy away.
Instead, he walks at Sorey’s side towards his - their - school.
#sormikweek2018#sormik#tales of zestiria#toz#tales of zestiria fanfiction#HI I LOVE THIS AU#this fic took so long to write though#why is the origins part so difficult and long ughghggh#i've written like three different reveals and combined they're all shorter than this oneshot
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Devil’s Backbone
Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader | Word Count: 1,882 | Warnings: Angst, Mentions of death, Character Death | Song: Devil’s Backbone - The Civil Wars
A/N: Sorry guys, this got a little dark on me. Thank you to my amazing 100 followers for your support. A/N-3/3: Sorry guys, I posted this last night and just c&p my taglist and didn’t activate. So if you’re getting a tag notification after having seen this story - that’s why.
Oh Lord, Oh Lord, what have I done? I’ve fallen in love with a man on the run Oh Lord, Oh Lord, I’m begging you please Don’t take that sinner from me Oh don’t take that sinner from me
New York was falling.
Creatures streamed from a portal in the sky and the civilians ran in terror, hid in dark allies and wept, died under falling brick and mortar. The Avengers did what they could, but you were tired of watching. You were afraid, not for the people of Earth, or any of the super hero squad, but for the man who caused everything; Loki. You watched with Heimdall, forbidden by Thor to travel down to Earth with him only days prior. You watched as Thor fought with the men in the red and blue suits, you watched Loki’s capture, and you watched his trickery and escape. You hadn’t left Heimdall’s side, but you had had enough.
“Open the Bifrost,” you commanded of Heimdall and turned his gaze upon you.
“I cannot, my lady. Thor has left his orders,” Heimdall expressed and you gritted your teeth.
“And I have given you new ones. Open the pathway willingly or I will use force.” Your sword left it’s sheath with a ringing note as you stared down the dark skinned man.
“You would risk the punishment of disobeying orders for the likes of Loki?” Heimdall asked, ignoring the sword his eyes never leaving yours.
“I would risk everything for Loki.”
Oh Lord, Oh Lord, what do I do? I’ve fallen for someone who’s nothing like you He’s raised on the edge of the devil’s backbone Oh I just wanna take him home Oh I just wanna take him home
Heimdall opened the Bifrost and turned to you one last time. “I hope you know what you are doing.”
You nod at him once before traveling the rainbow bridge to Earth. You land solidly on the cracked pavement of downtown New York. Your golden armor gleams in the small fires that spit and spark from fallen debris and corpses. You cast your eyes around the wreckage, ducking in time to not be taken down by caravan of aliens on flying machines, you catch Loki on the back of one of the machines. You hear a roar and watch as the Hulk jumps from one building to the other, raining cement to the streets below. You frown at the burst of screaming, did they not understand how many innocents the Avengers were endangering as well?
You take off at a brisk jog down the roads, your eyes open for Loki. You follow another trail of the flying alien’s and catch slight of glinting gold on the roof of a tall building. You watch Thor ascend the structure, Mjolnir spinning above his head and grit your teeth in resolution. You bend your knees in preparation to jump when the red and gold suited man suddenly blocks your path. Your grip tightens on your sword and you hold your golden and silver shield in front of you. You cannot read his face behind his mask, but you hoped you looked as intimidating as you felt.
“Another one of you out of towners? Really, tourism is getting out of control,” he snarks through his mask.
You frown and spin your sword in your hand. “I am here for Loki, nothing more.” You take an active fighting stance, ready to remove him from your path if necessary.
“Well, you see, that’s kind of what we all want right now. You know, besides stopping this mess your antlered friend created.”
You raise your brows and relaxed your stance, motioning to the destruction happening behind you. “You are making more of a calamity. You are containing nothing, metal man.”
“It’s Iron Man, thanks.”
“It does not matter. You and your companions are just as responsible for hundreds of deaths. Yes, Loki has fallen astray and we of Asgard will take care of it. But who will take care of you and what you have done?”
Tony froze as he looked to see the damages wrought as if he hadn’t really noticed before. You take the opportunity to strut past him and with a strong leap you make your way up the side with the tower with ease.
“Thor! Loki!” You yell as you land on the building with a crash. Both men stop their arguing and turn to look at you with shock. You slam your fist down on the roof, dust rising around you in a plume as you regain your warrior’s stance.
Oh Lord, Oh Lord, he’s somewhere between A hangman’s knot, and three mouths to feed There wasn’t a wrong or a right he could choose He did what he had to do Oh he did what he had to do
Thor’s eyebrows knitted in anger, his cheeks flushing. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he turned his back on his brother to approach you. “I told you to stay in Asgard. I forbade you from interfering,” the god of thunder roared, his golden hair flying around his face, strands catching in his beard.
“You do not give me orders!” you spat angrily. “I gave you the days out of courtesy to bring him home, but I stood by and watched you fail. I watched you get fooled by his amateur tricks that have been fooling you since we were children.”
Thor balked momentarily, the muscles in his jaw visibly clenching. You watch as he raises Mjolnir, almost in a challenge, before backing down. Your eyes shoot over Thor’s shoulder to Loki, who is watching with amused trepidation. He looked bedraggled and slightly deranged and you could feel your heart breaking at the sight.
“What would you have me do?” Thor asked, sounding helpless for the first time. “He will always be my brother.”
“Go help the others save the mortals, they are doing a poor job of it,” you answer, refocusing on the blond man standing between you and Loki. You reach out and place a leather covered glove softly on his cheek. “He may be your brother, but he is my heart. I will bring him home to us.” You smack his cheek sharply and steel your features. “Now, go!”
Thor nods at your command and with one last glower at his sibling, he launches himself from the building and back into the fray below.
Give me the burden, give me the blame I’ll shoulder the load, and I’ll swallow the shame Give me the burden, give me the blame How many, how many Hail Marys is it gonna take?
With Thor gone you finally got an unobstructed view of the God of Mischief in front of you. He seemed thinner and paler, the bags under his eyes were dark and hollow. You weren’t sure whether his clothing hung on him heavier or it was the weight of seeing his actions come to fruition. You took a couple slow steps towards him, the tip of your sword scratching against the concrete before you dropped your sword and shield to run into his arms. You sighed as you felt his arms wrap around you, but then he tensed and pushed you away.
“You should not be here,” he said sadly, refusing to look you in the eyes.
“You are right, I should be at home with you. Drinking wine in front of the fire or tangled with you in my bed. But I am not there with you, I am here with you, but you can end this and we can go back,” you tried to beseech him, try to stay calm and plead with him. Loki has always responded better when he thought he had the upper hand. “Come home with me, my love.”
You approached him again and rested your hand on the side of his face, forcing him gently to look you in the eyes. The green of his eyes swirled with turmoil and pain and you had to take a breath to steady yourself. He placed his hand over your own and lowered it to his chest.
“They would not have me back. Not like it was before, I would be a prisoner.” Loki stepped away from you again to approach the edge of the building and threw his arms wide. “Here, I can be king.”
You knotted your brows in anger and recollected your discarded weapons. “Do you honestly think your father would treat you as a common prisoner?”
Loki whirled on you suddenly, causing you to raise your shield in defense. The hurt your action created flashed across his face for less than a second before it was impassive again. “He is not my father,” Loki replied icily.
“He raised you as his own, Loki! He is as much your father as he is Thor’s. Do you really believe the Chitari are going to allow you rule of Earth? What will be left to rule when they are done with their invasion? It will be just you, my heart, just you on this godforsaken rock.” You sheathed your sword and reached for his hand. “Please, Loki, my heart, please come home with me.”
Loki closed the gap and takes your hand pulling you into his chest. In one swift movement he crashes his lips to yours. He always tasted so sweet, with the sharp bite of cold that you knew was his frost giant blood. He pulls back to capture your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it softly before detaching from you and resting his forehead on yours. His helmet clinks softly against the warrior’s circlet wrapped around your head.
“I cannot stop, my darling. They will take you from me,” he whispers against your mouth.
You frown softly and reach up again to capture his lips softly this time. “Please stop this, Loki.” You beg one last time.
“No.”
“Then it is you, my heart, that have taken me from you.”
In one swift movement you pull the sword from your sheath and plunge it through his center. Tears fall down your cheeks in hot streaks as the hands that were at your waist wrap around your wrist. “I love you, Loki. But I do not know you anymore.” With a sob you push harder, twisting sharply and brace yourself as his weight comes down on your shoulder.
“My love?” Loki gasps in pain and confusion. Blood drips from the corners of his mouth. You slowly sink to your knees, bringing him with you. You pull his helmet from his head and drag your fingers through his dark curls.
“I am sorry,” you sob, tears falling onto his face as you brace yourself and pull the sword from his chest. You toss your sword to the side where it lands with a clatter. You wipe the blood from his chin with your thumb and watch as the Iron Man flies a missile into the portal. Looking back down Loki you bend down to kiss his forehead before closing his eyes.
Don’t care if he’s guilty, don’t care if he’s not He’s good and he’s bad and he’s all that I’ve got Oh Lord, Oh Lord, I’m begging you please Don’t take that sinner from me Oh don’t take that sinner from me
Taglist: Please message if you don’t want to be on permanent tags. Especially now that I’m working on more than just my series
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Demoniac: A Girl and Her Wolf
“Hold still!” I demanded of the injured beast in front of me. His fur was hot to the touch, as it always was.
I studied the quill impaled into the side of my companion; a parting gift from one of the giant porcupine-like creatures known to frequenters of the Razor Hills as a spikehog. We were attacked by one as we traversed the rising and falling land covered with sharp grass. My friend successfully killed the animal, but not without injury. As the spikehog died, it shot off a barrage of spines, one of which found home in my companion’s left side.
I grabbed the long spike and pulled. My friend growled as pain stabbed through him. If this was back when we first met, I might have been afraid. But now, after two months of getting to know each other, I knew there was nothing to fear. He would never harm me.
“Come on, are you the dreaded Burning Wolf, or a mewling pup?” I teased as my friend began to whimper. He immediately toughened up at the provocation, although I still could hear the occasional stifled cry. It took all I had not to laugh.
With the quill removed, I got to work healing the wound. I held my hands an inch above the bloody hole and focused my thoughts. As I felt the hot steam rising from the boiling blood, my palms began to emit a green glow. Moments later, the wound was completely healed. It turns out being a demon does have a few benefits.
Unfortunately, my powers came at a cost. Using them was incredibly exhausting so I’d often need a long rest afterwards. It was getting late anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal this time.
“Time to lie down, Hairy. That’s enough walking for one day.” Hairy was my nickname for the Burning Wolf. Admittedly, coming up with names wasn’t something I was particularly good at, but he obviously couldn’t tell me his actual name, and I wasn’t going to constantly be saying “Burning Wolf” over and over. Oh well, it got the job done and he understood when I was speaking to him.
We sat together as we did every night; his arms cradling me, engulfing me in his warmth. It eliminated the need for a campfire, which was a dangerous thing in Demoniac. You never knew what the flames might alert at night. When Hairy and I were nice and snug, I began to sing. Nobody would ever expect this of the Burning Wolf, but he was fond of song. I first discovered this fact one night when we started traveling together. He was still wary of me and would often keep his distance. I didn’t blame him, for I did the same. In any case, my love of singing overcame any apprehension and I sang as I would have if I was all alone. To my surprise, Hairy came over to where I sat and listened quietly. When I tried to stop, he urged me on with a nudge. So I continued, long into the night. I think that was when our friendship really began to flourish.
I’d sing whatever song I could remember from my time in the living world. I’d need to adjust some things to account for the change of language into what was widely known as Demonish, but it always worked well enough. This night, I sang a song about a girl named Alice who had a penchant for mushrooms and chasing white rabbits.
The next morning, we continued our journey. Past the Razor Hills was Jonah’s Fall, one of the more densely populated, and relatively peaceful, areas of Demoniac. I had no clue who Jonah was, and I doubted if anyone currently living in the area named after him knew either. Hairy and I followed the road winding through the gentle slopes, a welcome change from the previous day’s scenery.
We passed numerous other travelers along the way, all of which eyed Hairy with fear and disgust. I couldn’t blame them. Up until recently, he was a vicious predator who killed without remorse. During our first days together, he’d go out and kill anyone unlucky enough to cross our path. I’d cry out and try to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen. All of them were torn to shreds, or burned away into ash. Those days I wouldn’t say a word to him afterwards. I contemplated abandoning him, but I knew he could be changed. I eventually had enough of his slaughter and placed myself in front of his target. I pleaded with tears in my eyes for him to stop, not caring what might happen to me.
“Stop!” I cried out. “This isn’t right! There are enough monsters out there, you don’t need to be one as well!”
Hairy, burning with rage, growled at me. I swallowed hard but never broke eye contact. I could see the intelligence behind those eyes, desperately trying to overcome the beast; that same intelligence mixed with sorrow I saw when he approached me in the Weeping Swamp after saving me from those creeps. Intellect ended up winning. The Burning Wolf stood down, and the innocent man was spared. From that point on, Hairy never attacked another innocent person.
Nowadays, his rage is solely directed at those who wish us harm. Unfortunately, this being Demoniac, that category isn’t small, especially since I’m a woman. There are countless, disgusting brutes here who would do anything to get their hands on a woman. Most stay away now that I have the Burning Wolf watching over me, but once in a while, one is foolish or desperate enough to try something. Thankfully, I’ve been spared so far, but I’ve heard stories from others that often keep me up at night.
It wasn’t long before we reached our destination: a coastal city within Jonah’s Fall known as Calamity Harbor. The city was large, by Demoniac’s standards. It started as a small fishing village built on the ruins of some long forgotten civilization, but its location on the Blood Ocean and being nearby other populated villages allowed it to flourish. Traders and other travelers swarmed it, planting their roots. The crumbled, cream colored stone buildings were eventually rebuilt, reimagined by a new society. The muddy roads were paved and made easily traversable. It became an island of sanity in a sea of madness.
Hairy and I walked through the city gates. The entrance was flanked by two stone statues depicting a couple of half fish, half man looking creatures. Demons of all shapes and sizes walked the streets. Some were grotesque monsters, others took on a more human appearance. They all looked at Hairy with apprehension and disdain. Word may have gotten to Calamity Harbor that the Burning Wolf was a changed person, but that didn’t take away the memories.
We made it to the market where numerous traders had set up stalls. Normally, one would hear nothing but merchants hawking their wares at any passerby who might listen. Today was different, however. In the middle of the market, a crowd was gathered. Them, along with the salesmen sitting at their stalls, listened intently to the figure floating above the ground, screaming to the heavens.
“Listen, sinners, for your time of redemption is nigh!” he yelled. The crazed preacher’s demonic form was that of an angel. His white, feathered wings stood out prominently for all to see, stirring the air around them. “God has sentenced you all to an eternity in this hell we know as Demoniac! But it doesn’t have to be this way! Our God is a merciful one, and has sent me, one of his most devoted children, to this wretched place to set you on the right path! To give you another chance at paradise!”
The preacher only mentioned a singular god, which struck me as odd. When referring to whatever higher power might be out there, it was generally accepted in Demoniac that there were multiple gods, not just one. At least, that’s what the images found in ruins around the land led people to believe.
“Demoniac is your punishment for sins committed in life,” the preacher continued. “but it is also a trial. One to prove you have learned from your past mistakes. And if you succeed, all will be forgiven and you will be allowed to fly this prison!”
Murmurs permeated throughout the crowd. The preacher elaborated.
“Our gracious God spoke to me. Do you know what he said? He told me that the people of Demoniac needed guidance. That they let Chaos rule in favor of Order. He asked if I would sacrifice myself, give up my place in eternal paradise, to redeem the sinners! To show them the way of Order, where it’s not every sinner for himself, preying upon the weak! So follow me, brothers and sisters! Follow me and I shall show you the way to perpetual peace, in the name of God!”
Something about the crazed preacher’s words put me on edge. Hairy must have felt the same, for he began to emit a low growl, baring his fangs.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I said. “We’re almost at Coalbreath’s.”
As Hairy and I walked past the preacher, I felt his unsettling, green eyes focused on me, his greasy, gray hair blowing in the wind.
Coalbreath’s Emporium stood on the harbor, making it easily accessible to any traders who fancied sea travel. Hairy and I stood outside of the cracked, cream colored building. Over the wooden door was a sign that said the store name, along with a crude drawing depicting a lizard clinging to a gem.
“Wait out here for a bit, I won’t be long,” I said to my companion, knowing his massive size forbid him from entering the store. Hairy obeyed and took a seat on the ground at the foot of the steps leading to the entrance.
I opened the front door, causing the chime hung above to jingle. A familiar, musty smell immediately greeted my nostrils. Coalbreath’s Emporium was a store that sold anything and everything. Wanted some herbs? All you needed to do was decide if you wanted something that’d cure or poison. Weapons? Do you want to cut someone into ribbons, or smash their bones to dust? Coalbreath sold food, clothing, tools; anything that could be traded he had.
I spotted the old lizard behind the front counter, carefully inspecting a gem of some kind. His long, slender tongue was licking his green lips absentmindedly. He never even noticed I entered.
“Got something good?” I inquired.
Coalbreath jumped, not expecting the sudden break in silence.
“Erin!” he exclaimed, “I was wondering when you’d be back. How’ve you been, little Nymph?”
Nymph was a nickname Coalbreath gave me due to my strange eyes, pointed ears, and healing abilities. I kinda liked it. It made me feel like I was more than simply Erin the Demon.
“I can’t complain,” I answered.
Coalbreath narrowed his eyes. “You still have that wolf following you around?”
I nodded. “Yep. He’s outside, as a matter of fact.”
“He, uh, giving you any problems?”
I shook my head. “Not at all! Quite the opposite, in fact. I don’t know how I got by without him.”
Coalbreath let out a sigh of relief and shrugged. “Well, as long as you’re safe. I worry about you, girl. It’s a tough world out there.” The lizard cleared off a spot on the counter. “Now, let’s see what you have for me.”
I turned my satchel upside down and let its contents spill out. He inspected each piece one by one; a plant here, a crystal there, and some sturdy animal parts for good measure.
“You’ve sure been getting around, haven’t you?” Coalbreath remarked. “This flower only blooms in the Weeping Swamp. And these mushrooms, you found these in a cave in Maiden’s Harp, didn’t you?”
I nodded in triumph, my hands on my hips. “They were a bit tricky. The screamer bats that feed on them don’t like to share. Hairy kept them away, though.”
“Hairy?”
“Oh, the Burning Wolf.”
“You gave him a name?”
I blushed. “The Burning Wolf felt too impersonal.”
Coalbreath smiled. His grin was a bit disturbing to me when I first met him, but I eventually got used to it after all I’ve seen in Demoniac. Now it was actually comforting to me.
“So what do you want to do with this stuff, little Nymph?” he asked. “You want coin or trade?”
“Coin, please.”
In Demoniac, while there wasn’t much in the way of government or law, a monetary system was at some point developed for simplicity’s sake. The currency was a simple, square metal coin with a hole cut out in the middle, known as a lunaire. It was named after the demon who first thought of the currency, Matthew the Lunar Knight. People either used lunaires, or simply traded whatever goods they had for what they needed.
After I made the transaction, I heard a commotion coming from outside. Screams and yells from multiple people were mixed with something much worse: growls. I ran as fast as I could outside.
At the foot of Coalbreath’s Emporium, a crowd of demons had gathered around Hairy. Their faces were twisted in hate. Many were gripping stones in their hands, claws, tentacles, or whatever other equivalent they had. I noticed there were already a number at Hairy’s feet.
“You killed Angela, you son of a bitch!” one man cried out. “She did nothing to you, you freakish monster!”
I tried to stop the man, but I wasn’t quick enough. The fool threw the stone he was holding, and my heart stopped. Hairy had had enough abuse for one day.
The rock collided with Hairy’s eye, causing him to look away for a moment. The mob cheered and bellowed, a cacophony that pierced my heart. Please, don’t, I said to myself. Hairy shook off the pain and glared at the crowd. He bared his fangs and roared, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I realized he was just trying to scare the mob off. If he wanted to hurt them, he would have already been aflame. Unfortunately, the crowd wasn’t backing down.
I jumped down the stone steps and stumbled my way between Hairy and the mob.
“The only monsters I see here,” I stammered, “are you people!” I walked towards the man who threw the rock. “You think you’re all so big, ganging up on someone like this! Let me tell you something: this isn’t the same Burning Wolf that you hate so much! He’s changed!”
The man laughed. “Changed? He still looks like a giant beast to me. Look at him! He’s just dying to attack us, but he knows he can’t take us all!”
I couldn’t help but guffaw at the absurdity. “Do you really think that? I know the Burning Wolf better than any of you. Hell, he hasn’t even ignited his fur! If he wanted you dead, you would already be a burnt pile on the ground. But do you know why you’re not? Because he’s learned to control himself.”
I calmed my voice a bit. “Look, I know the Burning Wolf has done terrible things in the past, but who among us hasn’t? At least he’s trying to change himself for the better. I’ve seen with my own eyes just how far he’s come. I know if he could, he would undo whatever harm he’s brought you.”
I quickly scanned the mob but, judging by the looks on their faces, they weren’t believing me. I looked back at Hairy. When I did, I saw a hint of sadness in his eyes. My heart twisted at the sight.
“What the hell’s going on out here?” Walking down the stairs from the Emporium was Coalbreath. “I don’t give a shit what you people do, as long as it’s not in front of my shop. This is a place of business, Gods above! You’re ruining my peaceful sales environment!”
The rock throwing man spoke up. “We’re doing a public service! This beast is a blight on our society!”
Coalbreath spat. “Oh, shut it, Blaine! You’re more full of shit than an asshole. Petty vengeance is all you’re after, you child. Don’t try to pretty it up with a facade of justice.”
The man curled his fist and swung at the lizard. “Why you little-”
Coalbreath dodged the blow and answered with one of his own. Unlike the antagonizer however, his punch found its mark. The man fell to the ground, clutching his head.
“Now as for the rest of you,” Coalbreath roared, “get the hell away from my shop or you’ll end up like poor Blaine here!”
The crowd dispersed in a flash, people heading every direction. I walked up to Coalbreath, who was shaking his hand in pain.
“Want me to patch that up for you?”
The old lizard shook his head. “Nah, this is nothing. Don’t trouble yourself.”
I hugged the owner of the Emporium. I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes. “Thank you, Coalbreath.”
“Don’t mention it, little Nymph. Just try to visit more often, ya hear?” He broke free of my grasp and walked towards Hairy. “And you, Hairy, make sure no one harms this girl, alright? If anyone does, you’ll need to answer to me.”
Hairy snorted in understanding. Coalbreath crossed his arms and smiled that same hideous yet comforting smile I’ve grown to love.
“You two’ll be fine,” Coalbreath said.
I said my goodbyes and left towards the gate of Calamity Harbor with Hairy. As I did, I couldn’t help but notice the crazed preacher from earlier standing beneath an awning nearby Coalbreath’s Emporium. I didn’t realize it before, but he must have watched the whole mob situation. I made eye contact with him and as I did, a disturbing smile touched the sides of his cracked lips.
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A Damsel Among A Brier In Winter
She backed away. Away from the turmoil, the unannounced, unprovoked altercation. Where had he come from? He was supposed to have gone, fled, expulsed. She was only there to touch the frozen roses, to feel their glass like fragility, their magical hidden brightness, witnessing both the wan, decay and renewal on the vines. She backed away, slowly, carefully, trying unsuccessfully to keep her facial emotions under lock and key. And as she past the middle of the garden, where the center of the fury erupted, was still broiling, the corner wall came into view. Turning, taking careful steps, treading lightly, keeping all wits about, Beatrice gave up and tore off. When hearing nothing bearing after her, she ran. Beatrice ran till she could run no more. The further away she became from the heat, the quicker her steps pounded, until she was finally rushing, escaping his emotional fuels and flames and dislike. Leaving the frozen roses to their demise and decay. And alone
Glorfindel had heard it all. Knowing he was accidentally eves dropping, keeping himself hidden, unawares from the other elf’s presence. It took all of his strength to keep himself composed and harnessed to the solid ground below. Arm, hand at his sword, ready to unsheathe and release, Glorfindel stood and listened as a barrage of rapid, hot words fired between the two. And anger and disgust built, squirreled its’ way round his heart, squeezing tight and tighter still.
“I did no such thing.,” she pleaded. “I didn’t. It was so long ago. Why are you even back? Why are you here? Why are you tormenting me?” Ignoring Beatrice, “Did you not drop several provocative innuendos?,” the handsome elf suggested tightly, giving Beatrice a triumphant glare. “I seem to remember you telling me stories, and dropping teasing glances my way. And words. And such other evidences of your lust.”
“No.,” Beatrice replied. “I mean. You seemed to like it.,” she felt cornered, trapped, sinking fast in wet, pulling quicksand. “I mean, I was only flirting, teasing. You responded positively!” Beatrice was not prepared for this onslaught, never concieving it was ever a possiblity to meet him again. He had been banished from Imladris for many years now. She had no mental, emotional preparation whatsoever for this assault. She had known in the far corners of her mind, this elf was never truly enamored of her. But he said otherwise many times over. What he had done to her emotionally, Beatrice only dared half a recollection, and even that much toppled her mind. Trying to think, mentally shielding herself, “You have been gone for a long time. You don’t really know me!,” she explained. “I am a nice person!! You are confusing me!” And Beatrice’s head spun like a top, berating herself, beating her spinning brains against every single corner there ever was in a sharp, sealed room. She looked for some sort of intellectual way out, but nothing was apparent enough. And she could not see the garden’s exit.
Every step of the way, every word, every thought, design, came out incorrectly. Beatrice inanely babbled, trying to verbally avenge herself, her behavior, her thinking from that time so long ago. Every moment then was a mistake. A disaster, collapse and calamity. She had tried. She had tried, but with no proficiency either then or now to clear and uncloud her thoughts and judgments. Her mindset guilty of wide blunders, misstatements and disastrous misjudgments. The elf had tortured Beatrice’s will and heart even then. But now, she was, in this moment, ensnared and entombed by his lurking, manipulative tricks. How had he returned? And without notice given to her? She wanted to run. Wanted to pick up, threw rocks, sticks at him. Yell, blame him. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to do much. For her eyes were pinned by his gaze, her feet as if lead and her heart, her heart fractured and divided itself, folding inward and became afraid of love once again. She did not want to hurt him, yet, she did.
The elf stiffly walked closer, emanating dramatic, intense, angry heat off his person. The garden’s snow crunched, squeaked beneath his boots. Beatrice stifled herself. Then, she hurled at him, “You left me on that cliff! You left me there! I liked you! I really, really liked you! You said you liked me! You said you loved me!,” pointing to the frosted, ruby roses, laying thickly within still green hedges. “That I was..like a rose..beautiful and sweet! And you hurt me! You left me there! Alone! Not even caring if I slipped, fell off or not! I could have fallen. And died. You just left! You knew I loved you!” Looking up at him, hurt, anger, sorrow, hollow and hopeless, useless emotions rolled off her, emotions that couldn’t seep away, or hide into the frosted, frozen hard ground. “I really liked you. I thought, I thought you were different, special. I thought you were kind, but you are not! You never were! You are emotionally manipulative!,” Beatrice spat. Standing her ground, “And mean! And vengeful! And wrong!”
Huffing, the elf smiled, snared. “You are a slut. A filthy, human, slut. Waiting for anyone to notice you. To play. To ensnare in your wild, deceptive games.” Tossing his head up toward the pristine city walls, covered in layers of thick, white frosting, and snow crystal landscaping, “Why that Lord of an elf keeps you, I cannot fathom.” Roosleen’s mouth slithered, looking directly down at her, “It is because, perhaps, you make a good pet for him. It is not because he loves you. You do realize, don’t you? That elf lord could never love you.,” staring her down condescendingly. “It is but a falsity, a farce. You are, but a play toy, a tease, a human. A weak, pitiful, ungraceful human.” Beatrice’s face flinched. “Go away.,” she fiercely whispered.
The crystals in Beatrice’s heart became like the frozen, piercing thorns from the roses, trapped within their own buds and folds. However, unlike the roses, her heart might not thaw and bloom in the spring as they would. And her disrespect and resentment grew.
Beatrice wanted to beat, hit him, hurt and maim him. She tried not to show this long lost elf her inside, hidden emotions, making her a mess, a destroyed wreck of a mess, but had she any verbal retort to defend herself against Roosleen? No. Not much. Back then, Beatrice had teased, flirted. But she thought, that was what one did, when one liked another. But that was so long ago. Why was he back? After so long? And he was wrong. Yet, his glare held her, glued her still, rooting her feet to the snow dusted ground. Letting him come closer, focusing his contempt of her being, hurling insults. Beatrice refused to back away, back down, cower before him or anyone else. So instead, she just stared, defenseless, wordless, and let her heart remain open, letting him rip her apart, and absorbed his torment, disrespect and disregard for her life. Beatrice absorbed his hate, but she did not permit him the will to break her in front of him. Yet again.
And Glorfindel seethed with smouldered wrath. And waited it out.
Nothing more had Beatrice to say, nothing more could she say. So she said the only thing that came to her mouth, “I really liked you.” Again, the disdainful elf sneered, “But why on Arda would I ever like…you?” Then, to send the bullet home, “I only pretended to enjoy you. I only bluffed. You were a curiosity. An intellectual, physical curiousity. However, you quickly bored me.” Beatrice could take no more. Losing the ability to search his eyes, his heart, finally seeing inside his fae, her guts wrenched. Beatrice needed to leave or a vomiting, distasteful mess she would become. She had let herself be laid bare and ripped apart enough, and now she was disgusted of both herself and him.
The high sweeping, smooth white steps came into sudden view. Beatrice ran up them, slipping, tripping, plunging over her silly dark skirts, bracing her body from a head long fall, hurting, skinning her wrists against stone and snow alike in the process. One of the guards quickly stepped down, assisting her, realigning her body with the earth. Waiting long enough to stand, readjust her bearings, grabbing, bunching her skirts, Beatrice ran the rest of the way up and up and up. With the guards looking after her, she left them perplexed and confused. And with that confusion, they became wary and watchful for further intrusions. One went to inform Lord Elrond.
Bolting through the chamber doors, Beatrice threw herself inside, startling Lindir from a friendly discussion with a friend. Looking up, startled, dismayed, Lindir rushed, scrambled before her. She tried to move past him. He was swifter, stronger. “Please.,” Beatrice pleaded, trying to keep some semblance of her emotional disarray and hurt contained. “Beatrice?!,” Lindir gave her with concern, puzzlement, holding her arms, body still. Pleading, “Let me go.,” Beatrice squirmed within his grasp. “No.,” as his arms gathered her closer to his taller frame. “What has happened? What is it? What is happening?,” And the more Beatrice struggled for release, the more she desperately wanted his stability and security. Tonare, Lindir’s friend, stood, studied her, walked to their balcony, looked down in scrutiny. And found the source of her distress, “Roosleen.,” he mouthed silently to Lindir’s questioning face. The shock, bewilderment, fury rose in the pit of Lindir’s stomach and his world ceased. No. Rooseleen was here. Here? Now? Why? Lindir would not release Beatrice this time.
Inside her heart, Beatrice felt Lindir’s wrath, but remained within his captivity and eventually gave up fighting for release. Instead, Beatrice decided to crumble. Lindir allowed it. To crumble, fall apart and become sick with disquiet and upheaval, as he held Beatrice tight, fighting against a heavy emotional tailspin of a downward spiral. Not again, if he could help it, Lindir vowed. This time, Lindir would have his revenge.
“What have you done?,” questioned, hissed Glorfindel, coming into view. Glaring this elf down, he tread across the path, making light prints to outlay the snowy ground, so quietly from his hidden place amongst frosted hedge and rose. Startled, coming out of his disgusted, revolted argument with Beatrice, the elf stared at Glorfindel with wary fright, keeping from admitting alarm. Gaining control, “What is it to you?,” Roosleen said slowly. “What were you doing there? Spying?” A standoff ensued.
Becoming informed of the malicious altercation between Beatrice and the expunged elf, Lindir and Tonare calmed Beatrice enough to drag the story out. This elf had reappeared twice in her lifetime and his being, his presence upset, unbalanced, and pulled from Beatrice the darkest, worst emotions, and perplexities hidden within. Each time laying claim to her heart and soul, destroying her, sabotaging, shattering Beatrice, and her mind to shards and pieces. Lindir, the others, had found her that dark, dirtied night, sheltered among the many crevices on a lone cliff, stealing herself from a long, depthless fall into the abyss and dark, foaming, wheeling waters below. Lindir had selflessly pulled her back, and back into life. A sheltered, contented, loving life with him.
Now, as Beatrice dozed, Lindir with renewed strength, purpose and force strode the dim corridors to Elrond, with doom on his mind and judgment, verdict and death in his heart. “I will slay him.,” Lindir calmly seethed in judgment. “He will not leave here on foot.” And he readied, adjusting his sword and belt.
“How you could come back, enter this city without confession or atonement.,” Glorfindel placed with passion. “Twas easy.,” Roosleen replied. “I am known here. I am easily accepted.” And while the elf’s manner, disposition inwardly remained calm, he was extremely aware of Glorfindel’s anger and judgment. And, where Glorfindel’s hands lay. And his hands were not dangling before his sides. As his sword began to come unsheathed, the immediate garden was flanked with other elves, including Elrond. And Lindir.
“Roosleen.,” Elrond challenged. “I do not recall having invited your return.” Turning, swinging round swiftly, Roosleen started, stared before the city’s Lord. “I invited myself.,” Roosleen calmly, audaciously bantered back. Elrond took stock of the elf’s placement of hand on his sword, and knew sooner or later, an encounter would take place. “I am unaware of my elves escorting your presence here. You may not remain here.,” Elrond directed toward the ungovernable, unwanted elf, giving Roosleen one last opportunity to exit, unscathed. “I intend no lasting harm.,” Roosleen retorted, narcissictly.
As the two elves exchanged glaring, dissing words, Lindir continued to frown, and glare against the repugnant elfs’ behavior. Moving, advancing between, betwix surrounding elves with ire and indignation, Lindir’s rage and resentment grew. With mounting words, arguing midst themselves, Lindir stepped in, issuing a proclamation of his own, “How dare you! How dare you return here! You, who have caused irreparable damage! You have not only caused such damage to this city, but to Beatrice, herself! What you did, there are no excuses for!,” and livid was Lindir’s mind. “If no one cuts you down, I will do so myself!,” Lindir hawked and threw throughout the pristine, frozen red rose garden.
Elrond’s elves stood readied for word, swords drawn. The stance of Roosleen grew disturbed, pointing off in a distance, “What issues that woman had, she had long before I came along! She was a broken mess before I knew her! And know her, I did.” That tiny bite of a smile was enough. That smile, those words were just enough for Lindir and the others to hear and put up with. The bandying elves flared, bickered, hurled insults and excuses. And before the mess was over, Lindir’s sword was drawn.
As Lindir’s sword thrust and parried, Roosleen gained the upper hand. This was not fighting ground. This slippery, dirtied, snow dropped ground. Even though Lindir was suitable and befitting of sword play or a challenge, his anger and wrath was overtaking his ability to think correctly, or defensively circumvent Roosleen’s offensive movements, as dark boot fought against lighter boot. A mixing of snow encased each heel and toe. As one long thrust of sword and arm pushed Lindir’s sword, his body toward the ground, digging into dirt, another blow belittled him from above, stinging his arm. Righting himself, reigning emotions for one moment, only to lose control another moment, Lindir still managed to kick Roosleen just enough with the heel of his boot, scraping the inside of Roosleen’s shin, enough to sideswipe, but not fully overcoming him. Lindir was not used to or prepared to endure such spiteful fight.
Having an opening to kick dirtied snow into Lindir’s face, keeping him defenseless, Roosleen dodged, kicked Lindir in the ribs, the tender, vulnerable guts, again knocking him down, bruising, the muscles of his shoulder tearing, causing Lindir to grimace in frustration and pain. Roosleen, knowing he was opened for wounding, even a behind assault or multiple attack, but bent on purging this moment of an unendurable elf, drew his sword back, and overhead, aiming for Lindir’s neck. But stopped short.
Roosleen, his body, frozen in time, stopping all movement, letting his chest cave with a sudden loss of air, his torso tensed, braced itself for a collapse. His arms, in midair, did not release his sword yet. Another immediate, bone cracking slice and sound from behind, and Roosleen’s body buckled at the knees, heaving soundlessly into the shuffled snow, leaving his entire self exposed to the elves. And his arms dropped, as his knees buckled, silently skidding against the dirt. His face registered shock and ruin and pain.
Lindir, heaving, lifted his head in time to see Glorfindel raise his own sword. And heavily sent it careening against Roosleen’s neck, severing it completely. His head dumped silently to the ground, where it stilled. Lindir set his eyes on the dirtied, tarnished, red and white ground but a moment, knowing his life had been spared and saved. Closing his eyes, opening them, keeping his eyes fashioned on Glorfindel’s boots, Lindir tucked his head in and swallowed, closed his eyes, but a moment longer.
“Clean this up.,” Elrond fiercely commanded the elves, turning to leave, his face a mess of chaos. “No!,” Lindir pleaded. Turning, looking down upon Lindir, still kneeling, “My Lord.,” Lindir began, trying to breathe, “I will take care of it.,” he licked his lips, tightened, knitted his mouth shut. “Beatrice…will need to see this.” Elrond, glancing towards Roosleen’s body, took stock of Lindir, understood what he meant to do, nodded his assent and left.
Taking Beatrice, leading her by the hand, Lindir returned with her to the garden. Before leading Beatrice inside the center, “I mean to show you.,” Lindir suggested with wariness but determined. “Come with me.” Beatrice went, not with hesitation, trepidation but with dignified resignation. Wanting Beatrice to see the end, the finality of this issue of Roosleen, they both entered the garden. Standing within the circular pit of vipers she knew as rose bushes and hedges, Beatrice knowing all too well, understood exactly what she was about to bear witness to, however, not knowing if she wanted to see or not, she continued to blindly walk beside Lindir. Was it because, she just did not want to see this elfs’ body and demise and face the end, or just not see the honesty of the thing, and face the truth, uncertainty and pain it would bring to her heart?
Walking into the center of the clearing, rows of snow covered hedges surrounded the still wet, white and crimson ground, as well as Tonare and the few other elves standing by, waiting for Lindir’s command. Lindir stood before Beatrice and gestured down, “Do you see?,” Lindir asked her, looking down on the body. “Do you see now, Beatrice. It is over. Finished. No more shall this elf torment and degrade your honor.”
Beatrice looked at what was left of Roosleen. She felt sorry for him, for her, the situation, the whole catastrophe. It was truly a sad thing. Why did he return? What useless, senseless thing would cause him to return? And why now? She nodded thickly, dumb and mute, while Lindir talked on. No tears, no remorse, not much emotion did Beatrice let enter her heart or mind, just yet. In time, Lindir knew she would cry and sniffle the nights away. Turning, keeping numb, Beatrice followed her gaze, looked up at Lindir. “Beatrice.,” Lindir started. “Do you remember telling me your stories of fairies?,” he asked. “Fairy tales.,” Beatrice corrected. Nodding, “Yes. Fairie tales. Some were of fair maidens, damsels in distress, you called them.,” and Lindir pointed out to Beatrice. “You were a damsel in distress Beatrice. Once, you were. Now no more. No longer are you that damsel. Now, Beatrice. Now, you have been rescued, recovered. Now.,” he continued, “You must live your life in independence, not dependency. Not sorrow, nor pain. Do you understand? No one can harm you here.” Beatrice pulled so much air into her lungs, she thought she would expand, explode and burst as like a piñata, But unlike a joyous, festive, colorful piñata, Beatrice released only dirtied, lung filled monoxide with a heavy sigh. And understood, agreed and nodded.
Lindir nodded off to Tonare and the others to carry away the body of Roosleen, the recalcitrant elf and looked longingly at Beatrice, with more dignity than pity and placed his hand on her face and held her gaze. “No one will harm you.,” he promised.
Roosleen was someone Beatrice did indeed love, had true, genuine feelings for, feelings of kindness, respect and joy towards. But that was then, before he willingly informed her of his game, his farce and disgraceful sham. Knowing it was better for the sake of all, that this issue was finished, done with, destroyed, her heart broke and Beatrice began to feel the desperate loss of something which once was and could have been, had Roosleen been different. Roosleen was gone, but Lindir was not. Lindir had fought for her, her value, her honor, her being and life. She harbored no anger, resentment nor hatred toward Roosleen, only��..loss. Loss. And release.
The garden, with its’ soft yet bright winter roses, petals closed, not one red rose in bloom. All roses curled, frosted and tight lipped against the wind and snowdrops, all cozied up for the winter. Every so often, a petal here or there would drop, break off. And Beatrice would walk there from time to time, amidst them, touching here, there, and she remembered.
#Elven Fiction#Lindir Fiction#Glorfindel Fiction#Protectors Of Beatrice's Heart#Red Winter Roses#A Garden Covered In Snow Is Magical#A Damsel In Distress No Longer Remains In Distress Once She Is Rescued#Beatrice Fiction
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You unlock your phone, and, ignoring the shaking of your hand, answer the call. “Hey” you say, not even trying to compress the wound, too far gone as you already are, “no, i’m fine. I’ll be with you in a minute or two…
Kate was no stranger to death. Hell, that was an understatement. She’d lost count of the amount of times she’d brought about the end of someone’s life for a quick buck. She’d never been caught. No one had ever suspected her. She’d made sure of that. God, Kate, you’re such an idiot. Why the hell would you go killing people from the god damn aristocracy? Why did you fucking think that you could change things? You’re one woman, you’re some low-life assassin, and now you’ve got a knife in your stomach all because of your own stupidity.
Well, that last part wasn’t necessarily true. Kate had managed to slide the knife out of her a few minutes ago and it was laying beside her. In retrospect this was a bad idea--the knife could have at least slowed the bloodflow until she could drag herself back home and Sasha could stitch her up again. But in her defense, she was panicked. She’d never been stabbed before and, God, did it hurt. It hurt more than anything she’d ever felt before. Her entire lower half radiated with painful heat and it hurt even more to press down onto the wound. But she had to--she had to stop the bleeding. She needed to slow it down and then hobble back to the outside world and away from the dead body laying across from her.
His house was nice--the nicest house Kate had ever seen. Kate had saved up quite a bit of money over the years, but the only place it could get her was a two-bedroom house with barely-running water that was a half-step above living in the slums. Kate had never seen such clean tile floors, never imagined a marble staircase, never thought a roof could be so high... Kate felt sick when she’d first walked in.
She hated directly confronting targets. She hated talking to them. She almost never did. But killing a nobleman was next to impossible. She couldn’t get near him without formally requesting an audience of some kind. And even then, security guards were everywhere. Cameras, too. Kate had an easily-forgotten face, she had the ability to hold conversations that weren’t interesting, and overall she could blend into parties and social gatherings and get close enough to her target to finish him off. She was no master of stealth and sneaking around, which her friends had told her would someday get her killed.
So, Kate had to throw away her traditional means of execution and just dig a shiv into a few people’s necks, smash a few cameras, and waltz right into the mansion of the duke. The fucking duke, Kate, what the hell were you thinking?!
Well, what she was thinking was that she was so tired of people starving in the streets and she was so tired of reading about how great the world was before the bombs fell, before the aristocrats erected huge walls to seal out the outside world and made themselves the rulers. She was tired of children getting sick and dying while the rich had not a care in the world.
Why did you think you could possibly change the world? No, Kate didn’t think she could change the world. What she did think was that the duke was the biggest piece of shit she’d ever seen. And she’d told him that right before he plunged a knife into her stomach and she’d shoved her knife into his skull.
Blood was caked across Kate’s pale fingers, and had quickly stained most of her pants, her shirt, her coat... God, why won’t the bleeding stop?! Why won’t it stop?! Kate pressed down harder on the wound and couldn’t help but release a loud half-moan, half-scream. Harder, harder, you need to stay alive, there are people who need you!
But it wouldn’t stop. Kate’s hands shook as she leaned back against the wall and watched as the pool of blood around her grew and grew.
What a fucking life it had been. She couldn’t wait for clients to turn up at her door, only for Joe and Sasha to tell them she was dead. It was a bit morbid, but Kate imagined the faces of everyone once they learned that the bounty hunter that had terrorized the streets of Conriston for the last ten years was dead.
Some said she was a vengeful god of calamity, come to strike down those who had wronged her. Others said she was a god come to liberate the people. Some said she was part of the rebellion.
None of those were true. Kate was just Kate. And now Kate would soon be dead Kate. Fuck.
Kate was startled out of her reverie at the sound of buzzing from her pocket. It was her phone. She pulled it out with violently shaking hands and unlocked it, seeing that the number across the screen was Joe’s. She didn’t tell him where she was going. She didn’t tell anyone. Kate felt her heart sink into her chest.
“Hello?” Kate rasped. Her voice sounded awful--like she hadn’t spoken in fifty years.
“Kate.” Joe sounded worried. “Are you okay? You sound terrible.”
“Huh? No, no, Joey, I’m fine.” Kate eyed the gaping wound in her stomach and chuckled. “I’m just fine.”
“Well where the hell are you? We woke up and you weren’t here.”
“Early job I had to do. I... I just picked up the pay from it.” Kate felt cold. “I’ll be home in a few minutes, yeah?”
“Who was it?”
“... what?”
“The job--who’d you need to kill?”
Kate glanced over at the duke, his skin paled and blood cradling his face and staining his fancy clothes. “... No one you’d know.”
“You didn’t tell me about it. Did you tell Sasha? Or Percy?”
“No, no, it was someone I knew already. I had enough information already to just go in and do it so...”
“Tell me next time, Kate. You know we worry.”
“Mhmm...” Kate fell silent for a moment, trying to blink the black shapes out of her vision. “... Hey, Joey?”
“Yeah?”
“... You’re.... You know you’re my best friend, right?” Kate laughed a little. “You know that I’d do anything for you guys, right?”
“... What’s this all about? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, I swear.” Kate absentmindedly began to swirl her free hand in the blood on the floor. “I just really love you guys. Is that so wrong?”
“No, but... Kate, where are you?”
“Is Percy okay? Is she still asleep?”
“Yeah, she’s still asleep. Kate--”
“Joe, I want you to promise me you’re gonna take care of her, yeah? You and Sasha. She’s still got her whole life ahead of her. Kid’s like a daughter to--” Kate pulled the phone away as she broke out into a coughing fit. Dark blood ran out of her mouth when she was finished.
“Kate, what the hell have you done?!” Joe demanded on the other line. “Where the hell are you?! I’m coming right now--”
“Joe, don’t. I’m gonna be home in a couple of minutes. I’m just...a little sick, yeah?” She wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “... Joey?”
“Kate, you tell me where you are right now. What have you done? What--”
“Joey. Do... Do you think you can tell Sasha that she’s been fantastic and that I’m really sorry for being such a reckless bitch all the time. And can you tell Percy that...” Kate sighed and thought for a second. “... shit, I don’t really know what to tell her. Just... that she’s beautiful and I wish... I wish I could watch her grow up. I wish I could get her out of this shithole town. Tell her I love her, too, I guess...” Percy’s smiling little face flashed across Kate’s memory--her olive skin, dark curls, her little voice... Kate hated the fact that she’d taken to some orphan so quickly. Kate loved that kid more than anything--how would she react to the news of Kate dying?
“You never fucking call me Joey, Kate, what the hell’s going on?!” His voice was watery and unstable but it was rising with angry panic. “You fucking tell me where you are!”
“Joey, you’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had.” Kate heard her voice break as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I love you more than anything... more than the cat. Are... Are you happy I said that?” Why was she laughing?
“Kate, please, just tell me where you are so I can help you!” Joey pleaded.
“I’m just a few minutes away, I’m fine, I’m fine... Make sure to feed the cat for me, yeah?” Kate smiled sadly at some point off in the distance. “... Tell the aristocracy to go fuck themselves, too.”
“Kate--”
“Joey, don’t forget about me.” Kate’s voice had broken down into full-on sobbing. “Don’t you ever forget about me, okay? I don’t want to be forgotten. I don’t want to die alone...”
“Kate--!”
“I love you, doofus. You’re my best friend. You’re like my brother. Please don’t ever forget about me. Don’t...”
“Kate, god dammit, tell me where you are!”
Kate smiled, and breathed once more into the receiver, “Bye, Joey.” Then she let the phone fall out of her hands and to the floor. Sunlight was beginning to seep through the windows--the world was getting blurry but oh well, Kate could still see the light.
She could hear Joey’s faint voice still yelling, screaming from the phone, but that was okay. He was okay. He’d be okay.
It would be okay. She’d be home in a few minutes. Just a few minutes. Three minutes... Three minutes... Three
#spilled ink#not my best but eh#writing#story#original writing#original story#writing-prompt-s#writing prompts#short#pastelsandink
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Headcanons on the champions finding out their s/o is a Yiga assassin who was sent to kill them, but s/o loved their champion too much and left the Yiga for them?
Link
- upon finding out, he was enraged. he felt betrayed and heartbroken. he initially wouldn’t even grant his s/o the opportunity to explain themselves; just furiously yelling with tears in his eyes
- after he finally lets them talk, he’s nervous to admit to himself that he desperately wants to, and does, believe them, but his responsibility of being the hero, he needs to look at the situation objectively
- some time after, he lets himself trust them once more and he apologizes profusely with even more tears in his eyes. he promises to never doubt them again, but asks for 100% honesty in return
Mipha
- she’s conflicted between her love for her s/o and her past love for link. as a champion in this time, its her duty to support the hero in any way she can. being lovers with, and sharing her heart with a yiga clansman was the same as backstabbing her closest friend and first love
- she immediately goes on the offensive and demands an explanation. after listening to her s/o’s frantic pleading, it takes her a while to analyze and further make judgement on her s/o’s story. because she’s so unsure of herself due to her inclination to bias, she cautiously asks sidon for advice
- she takes her brother’s advice of thinking back on who their s/o is and if they’ve proven themselves to be worthy of trust. she tells them she trusts them for now, but if they make one wrong step, she will follow her duty over her heart
Revali
- he’s definitely caught off guard and he’s baffled beyond belief. as much as he claims to dislike link, he knows that the world cannot be saved without him. he handles this situation the best, in my opinion
- he doesn’t let his emotions control him until after all was said and done. when he first hears it, he just asks “why?” why would the love of his life keep something so important, so detrimental, from him? he’s more upset at the idea of being kept in the dark and lied to than his s/o being a yiga clansman.
- he tells them he doesn’t care for who they were in the past so long as it doesn’t make a reappearance in the present. he’s more than confident that he can eliminate anyone who stands in his way from saving hyrule, even if that person happens to be his lover, he just wouldn’t be happy about it. he proceeds in acting rather distant and cold for a few days and keeps a careful watch on his s/o until the whole calamity deal was settled
Urbosa
- she, too, is quite confident in her ability to wipe out obstructions, but she’s tied up in her heart. she doesn’t want to admit it, but she feels very heartbroken and humiliated. a tear or two may fall, but she wont let more than that out
- urbosa explains that there’s nothing she cares more about in the world than her people and her country, and that she will stop at nothing to see that peace envelops hyrule once again. a few promises later, urbosa looks past the ordeal (mainly because she’s letting her heart control her) but trusting her s/o will be hard to do before the calamity is defeated
- she’s ashamed to know that she’s allowing herself to be vulnerable like this and letting her emotions make her decisions. as a leader, she knows she must see things without bias. but as a warrior, she must fight for what’s right and in this case, her s/o has become a better person, and she must show support for this positive change
Daruk
- being one of the most perceptive, he had the feeling when they first met. he remembers being on guard around them, but after they stuck around for so long without attacking, he brushed it off as paranoia. now that light has been shed on the truth, he didn’t know how to feel
- tries to laugh it off by saying “you really thought you could kill me?” but its obvious he’s hurting on the inside. his s/o vows to prove their honesty by devoting even more of themselves and their time to him
- he says its not necessary, but the action actually helps a lot. it wasn’t long before his broken heart was mended and he fully trusted them again. but the idea that someone he loves and trusts (prior) could be so secretive and dishonest is what saddens him from time to time
[mod makar]
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