#and my vision is: listen to till my head falls off they might be giants off the severe tire damage album

[subsequentibis]

Hitting every pocket on my shirt, pants and overcoat And I'm hitting them again but I don't know where I put my notes Clearing my throat, and gripping the lectern I smile and face my audience Clearing his throat and smiling with his hands on the bathroom sink

a little sal for this fine october afternoon. world's most normal girl gives the world's most normal lecture

[enigma-im]

Fifth Day of Christmas...

Trope: Snowed in (NSFW) Relationship: Goliath x Human Word Count: 7,808

Swords clash in a symphony within the Mid-lands woods. The Goliaths have come from the mountains to ambush our camp. We never assumed we wouldn't be safe, especially with winter coming. Who would have guessed the Goliaths would be so bold as to challenge an incoming blizzard just to slaughter a few of us. It's truly too bold, too stupid.

I look out at the cluster of people, the Goliaths standing high. It's clear we have the number advantage, but they have strength. Men and women surround a single giant just to be beaten away with a single blow. It's ridiculous. The cold bites at my lungs as I charge into battle, joining two others attempting to befall the seven-foot man.

Together we swipe and swing at the revolting beast, aiming low in hopes of knocking him down. One soldier gets a jab in as the goliath blocks a blow from another. We both take the chance to cut at the knees. The goliath falls to a kneel, growling in frustration before swinging wide and knocking the other two away. I manage to stumble back into the cold dirt. Attempting to get back to my feet I see the goliath has beaten me to it, standing above the two fallen soldiers with a triumphed sneer. He reels back, aiming for the closest one. With a fatal swoop, he befalls the first one, spilling their blood to the dirt below.

I can't be shocked anymore, the sight an unforgettable one. It's almost numbing now. I quickly stand, gripping my sword in a harsh grip. The goliath reels his arm back for another blow to the woman at his feet. Working on pure adrenaline I launch at him, digging my shoulder into the wound on his side. The goliath cries out, pushing me aside as he cradles the bleeding wound. I don't let him get an edge, doing what I can to get him away from the injured soldier still laying at his feet. Stomping towards him I kick my leg high, digging my booted heel into the cut on the back of his knee. He falls to a kneel once more.

"You petulant worm," he snarls, reaching out for me. I try to step back, failing as he grabs my heel. He drags me towards him, standing to dangle me headfirst above the ground. My sword falls from my grip, hitting the dirt with a soft thud. I can't pay it any mind as this behemoth pulls me higher in the air. Not bothering to think I do the first thing I can. The wound on his side catches my attention. I drag my fist bag, launching it towards his side for a quick jab.

He wails again, dropping me harshly to the floor. My shoulder pops as the dirt gives no resistance. I watch the man stumble, breathing heavily as he clenches his side. Our eyes meet for just a moment, a few flurries dancing between us. I don't take the time to listen to whatever hateful words he wishes to spit my way. I can see the bloodlust and fury in his eyes, I am his sole target now and nothing is going to stop him.

I shuffle off the floor quickly, trying to look for my sword before the man can react. He swings for me, growling like a beast as he does. I stumble back, still having no sight of my sword. At his next attempt at my life, I give up the search. Knowing the losing battle before me I do what a soldier should never do. I run.

Twisting away I book it away from the fight, running through the tree with the cold air stabbing at my lungs. A voice screams 'coward' in my head but my will to live is stronger. I hear mighty footsteps follow me, calling out with grotesque promises. I don't make it far till I'm knocked on my stomach, my shoulder throbbing with the impact and weight. I'm twisted to my back, the man hovering above with a sadistic grin and sneer of pain. I can feel his blood dripping onto my clothes, the only warmth to be found in these woods.

"I have you now," he grabs at my throat," such a poltroon to run from battle." his fingers dig into my neck, choking me easily. I scratch at his arm, pry at his finger, reach for his face. Nothing works, the corners of my eyes darkening. With a last-ditch effort, I writhe and kick, aiming for anything to get some leverage. I don't want to die, please don't let me die here alone.

I kick at his hip, him wincing a bit. With that last bit of focus, I jab the toe of my boot into his side, blessing the fallen soldier for the well-aimed wound. He barks out a cry of pain, his fingers loosening enough for me to take a greedy gulp of biting air. I kick again, screaming a war cry as I push him off. It's a feat in its self to get him off.

I roll onto all fours, breathing hard to get the black dots out of my vision. Coughing while he wheezes, it's the only moment we have. Getting to my feet first I look over to him, he's kneeling by a decline. I take a few wobbly steps towards him, exhausted at this point. He looks up to me, trying to get to his feet with an angry growl. I'm surprised he makes it, walking on equally uneasy legs.

"I'm going to enjoy spilling your blood, little human," he seethes," it has become my right."

"Shut up," I pant.

With the last bit of energy, I have I run to him. I thud against his stomach, grab at his knees, and dig my nails into his still bleeding wound. He falls back, taking me with him. His back takes the brunt of our weight, me being launched off as he tumbles backward. We roll and skip down the steep incline of the hill, hitting every rock, root, and tree to be found. My shoulder aches as do other parts of my body. As my head meets a rather pointed rock do I wish for death.

A groan breaks through my haze. I open my eyes, looking up to trees and fat snowdrops. A few land on my lashes, my eyes flickering shut. I feel like shit. My body is throbbing, my view rather fuzzy, and my fingers numb. Another groan catches my attention, coming from above me. I tilt my head back, looking at the man trying to sit up. I startle at the blue marking curling down his bald head. My stomach lurches as I launch upwards, barely getting to my feet with the small amount of energy I have left. I know once I'm somewhere safe I'll be down for the count.

"Worms, all of you," the man whimpers," bested by a worm, me?" I watch him pathetically try to move. He looks worse than I feel, his side leaking life into the frosty debris below. The wound has grown since I last remember, stretching over his stomach. He tries to sit up, clenching his hands in the dirt, and seething every attempt.

He finally just lays there, looking at me with such disgust. I nearly feel nothing at the sight, just numb to this whole experience. He will die soon, bleeding out or freezing from the elements. I may do just the same, looking to the unclimbable incline and empty woods. Perhaps I could be so lucky to find shelter somewhere, a journey that may cost me much. I sigh.

"retched, the lot of you," he spits," may the gods damn you to the foulest parts of hell. To have your inners stood across miles. Be cursed for what you have done to me today!" it's almost sad to watch him like this. The final words of a dying man.

"Shut up," I look around some more. My best bet is to just start walking, look for some shelter. If the gods could bless me today. I start walking. The man curses and snarls at me, shouting his last bit of distraught like a pathetic animal. I walk on.

It isn't long until I come across a cabin, boarded up for the winter. It's promising. I walk up to the nailed in planks, reaching out to attempt to pry them. My shoulder screams in protest, as I do I. cradling my arm I look to the door. I can't get in. I look to the windows, they too are boarded. This close to shelter and I'm left to perish.

In the distance, I can still hear the shouts of the stubborn man. Surely he was to die by now. I shake my head, admiring his strength even in death. Thinking of a plan I circling the building, finding nothing but stacks of firewood resting against the side.

"Bollocks," I grumble. I'm not strong enough to get in…but someone else might.

I snap my head in the direction of the insolent man. Could he help me get in? no, he is too wounded. But if I treat said wounds, maybe he could be of some use? Would he be strong enough though? I cry out in frustration. It seems it's the only chance I have. Why not spend my last few hours with an enemy?

I hobble back towards the hill, hearing the man before spotting him. He is left exactly where he started. It seems he hasn't tried to make any progress. His head snaps to me, baring his teeth as I near.

"Come to finish me off, human," he barks.

"If I help you, do you think you can pry out some nailed boards before we freeze to death," I ask, not bothering to waste any time. He scoffs, turning away.

"Why should I accept help from you? Do I offer my assistance just for you to stab me in the back the first chance you get," he asks, sounding awfully stupid. I'll let myself think it’s the lack of blood causing his idiotic suggestion.

"Wouldn't you rather take that than dying in the dirt like a forgotten man," I ask, shivering as a breeze flows by.

"I rather die with my honor than betray my kind to help you," he barks a laugh," I'm faithful to my people unlike you, you poltroon scum-."

"Shut up," I interrupt," pride on the shelf, help or don’t?"

He glares at me, fingers clenching and unclenching at his side. The offering was rather nice in my opinion, even if the lack of trust is there. For now, I need him and he needs me, let's not make it more complicated than that.

"Fine," he grunts," if you can help then so will I."

I don't bother with words, collapsing to my knee with a wince beside him. The minimal supplies I have attached to my person is unceremoniously dropped to the ground. I don't bother cleaning his wound, taking a small amount of time to wrap it instead. He groans and whimpers like a child, nearly reaching for me to stop. I ignore him, stuffing wrapped bandages against his side before covering it all with wrapping. I hope the pressure is enough to forgo any more blood loss on the way to the cabin. I just need him strong enough to pull some wood, nothing more.

I'm little to no help getting him off the ground. I try to tug him up with my good arm but the jostling runs to the other anyway. He manages mostly on his own to get up, standing on his own two feet. His hand covers his side and he stumbles onward.

We walk like a bunch of drunks towards the cabin, nearly collapsing as we stop at the door. I watch as he easily pries the boards off the door, ripping them off as easily as ripping paper. With the wood cast aside, he opens the door and walks in. I follow after, annoyed at the equally cold interior.

"I'm going to get a fire started, you can rest for a bit. You have done enough," I say as I rub at my arms. I look around the room, spotting the heath with stacks of wood on the side. Before I can even take a step there I heard a loud thud. I jump, looking towards the goliath in fear. To my surprise he isn't standing, having collapsed on the ground.

I sigh," I thank you for your help but if you die in the middle of the room I'm going to be pissed."

That night was the longest in my life. Nearly getting killed in battle, then nearly dying from exposure, and now trying to start a fire with a broken shoulder. Hauling the wood was a challenge in itself, now trying to spark the flint. I would give anything to be able to roll over and rest but there is still much to be done.

I start a fire, warming myself for a bit before searching around the cabin. Finding a bedroom with blankets and a kitchen with jarred food. I send praise to the gods above. I drag all the linen to the main room, making two cots for the goliath and myself. I don't bother trying to drag him closer to the fire, exhausting all my courtesy towards him. Wrapping him in a blanket after checking his wounds is all I can bother within one night.

With my vision tunneling, I lay down in my cot and take a well-earned rest.

I startle awake the next morning when I catch the Goliath watching me sleep. His gaze is contemplative, to my surprise, but still rather brutish. I stare at him as he stares at me, not sure what his mood is this morning.

"you didn't kill me," he starts bluntly.

"That I did not," I answer.

"Why," he demands.

"it would not have benefitted me," I snuggle further into the warmth of the blanket.

He huffs," didn't think killing your enemy before they get the chance to kill isn't beneficial?"

"depends," I shrug," are you planning on killing me?"

He regards me for a few moments, his jaw ticking," No."

The goliath begins to stand, looking steadier than last night. His blood-soaked shirt is stiff and ripped. He takes a large step towards me, I flinch. Though I reluctantly trust his words, the years of fighting have left much ingrained. The recoil jostles my shoulder, making me bite back a whimper.

"Hurt," he asks, walking around me towards the fire. I can't pay him any mind as I breathe through the pain that has worsened from last night. Rolling onto my back I try all I can to remain still, the throbbing starting anew.

"I asked you a question," the goliath growls.

"Yes," I bark.

He chuckles," good. I'd hate to be the only one." I glare at his back. Slurs begin to roll towards my lips but I hold them back. Though he was near death before, I am in more pain now.

I hear the goliath poking at the fire, throwing another log in before stomping towards me. On reflex, I flinch, wincing again. He crouches down beside me, grabbing at my arm and jerking me upright. I spit out a curse, whimpering like a child. His meaty fingers poke and prod till I'm near tears.

"Stop," I shout. He glares, taking his hands off me.

"it's dislocated," he sneers," it has to be popped back into place." he reaches for me again, I twist away.

"Don't you fucking touch me," I snarl, shuffling farther and farther away from him. He remains kneeling by the cot, scoffing at my departure.

"Fine," he slaps his hands to his thighs," deal with it yourself."

I watch him trot off somewhere out of sight, stomping all the while. His heavy steps echo around the cabin, shaking the walls a bit. I'm impressed he hasn't knocked some of the decorations off the walls. Hell, I'm impressed he can stand up straight without hitting his head. I hear some clanking of glass, telling me of his location. With him out of the room, I breathe easy.

My arm makes me feel useless and I try to keep busy. Sorting out supplies and checking the fire becomes tedious with one arm. I take to looking at the piling snow outside, it already reaching around a foot high. Even without the blizzard out there, I had no intentions of leaving, it seems neither did the goliath as he licks his wounds in the main bedroom. We keep to ourselves most of the day, him coming back as the day grows to night. Even then he remains in the farthest corner from me. Not that I mind, keep the brute away less we break this unsteady truce.

I try to head to the cot, struggling to lay down with every angle hurting my shoulder. I try to bite back whimpers, not letting him get the satisfaction of hearing them. The hardwood is uncomfortable, so much so that I consider going to the bedroom to sleep on the mattress. The threat of freezing keeps me where I am.

I wiggle around enough that the goliath lets out an annoyed sigh," if you would let me pop it into place then you would have a better time getting comfortable."

"Piss off," I grumble.

He huffs again," you humans are too damn stubborn for your own good. I'm sure this war would have been dealt with years ago if your people would stop acting like children."

I scoff under my breath, not falling for the bait. He continues anyway.

"I'm tempted to see how long you'll keep use of your arm. With us snowed in I'm sure you won't last till the sun melts it all. As weak as you all are I'm nearly impressed with your resilience to help. At this point I believe killing you would be a mercy as amputation would get you dropped from service," he rambles on. I never knew goliaths could be so mouthy, saying nothing of importance in a conversation. He grates on my nerves till the pain of hearing him is worse than the pain in my shoulder. His constant insults nearly make me consider taking my chances outside.

As he goes on his next spiel I sit up, glaring at him as I stand. With a stubborn amount of determination, I charge at the nearest wall, slamming my shoulder against it. A loud pop echoes around the room, silencing the annoying goliath. I wheeze against the wall, panting hard as I slide down to the floor. Tears roll down my cheeks as a sob wracks over my body. My whole arm throbs, telling me of my success and idiocrasy.

I look to the goliath, blowing a loose strand of hair out of my face. He looks surprised, then impressed. It's short-lived though as he looks down at the sword he is fiddling with, having found it on the wall.

"It seems humans are stupid above all else," he mumbles. I huff, thunking my head against the wall.

The silence begins to bug me as the days go on. After his baiting, he hasn't said much else. During the day he sticks to the bedroom, coming back to the main room at night. I try to keep busy, running out of things to do besides count rations and look out at the white landscape. The fire has been kept lit all day, our woodpile beginning to run low. I know there is a large stack outside but the idea of going out there chills me to the bone. At some point I'm going to have to, that thought keeps me busy.

We sit in our cots one night, staring off into space.

"Our fire is going to die before the snow melts," he says casually. I lazily look at him, watching him look to the heath. The glow of the fire gives him a beautiful glow, lighting his markings like a painting.

"there's some chopped wood outside," I answer. He nods.

"I'll retrieve some tomorrow morning, give it enough time to dry out," he states.

"no," I glare at him," I'll grab it, you can't be trying to get your giant self through that snow. Besides, you can reopen your cut lifting those logs."

He glares back," like you can do any better with your arm?"

I sit up," I can do better than you getting through the snow. So what I lack in strength I make up in time."

"by the gods woman," he shouts," can you cease your insolence for one day? Your fire is admirable but it will get you killed. You will rest, do I make myself clear?"

His scolding demand boils my blood. Who does he think he is making such commands? I'm not his to push around or control.

"No, you don't. I will go out there with or without your permission because you aren't my father or commander," I shout. I nearly get up to grab the wood that second, my ire demanding action.

"This is the thing with you humans, we try to do something kind and you basically spit in our faces," he slaps his hands on his thigh," there is no more discussion, I will get the wood in the morning."

"No, you-," he interrupts me.

"End of discussion, now go to bed," he scolds. Before I can say anything more, he rolls over in his cot. I want to scream in frustration, feeling like a child at this moment. Reluctantly I roll over and go to bed as well, fuming as I do.

I aim to wake up early, sneaking out before he can wake up. He still rests in his cot as I roll out of mine. I smile in victory as I make my way to the door. Wrapping my blanket around myself I head out to start the mission of carving a path through the snow. As I reach for the handle the door swings open, forcing me back a step.

"Morning," the goliath greets me, holding an armful of wet wood. I scowl up at him, blowing a stray hair out of my face. He snickers, walking past and setting the wood down by the hearth.

"How'd you wake up before me," I throw the blanket down in my cot. He organizes the already large stack of wood, spacing them out to dry faster.

"Your snoring kept me up, I was already awake," he shrugs.

I sulk, dropping back in my bedding with arms crossed. He looks over his shoulder, laughing as he catches sight of my scowl.

Today he actually spends time in the main room, warming up by the fire and checking on the wood. Minimal words are exchanged but still better than before. The reluctant truce feels less reluctant now.

Night falls and the logs still aren't dry. The small amount we have left can barely keep the fire blazing through the night. We both stare at the hearth.

"We can bundle up more," I offer.

"There aren't any more blankets," he says.

"We can lay closer to the fire, that might help," I try. The idea of freezing during the night isn't an ideal one. The small fire could keep us warm, but just barely. We can try to use the wet wood but it risks snuffing out the flame we already have. I can't think of much else to do.

"we're going to have to huddle for warmth," he sighs. I snap my head towards him, confused by the suggestion.

"Huddle for warmth? Like, share a cot," I ask. He nods. "Well, that's definitely out of the question," I shut him down.

"excuse me," he barks," why is that?"

"I'm not going to share a cot with you. Not even a few days ago you tried killing me, cursing my name to the gods in hopes that they will gut me and spread my entrails for miles," I shake my head," so no, I don't trust you."

"so, you trust that I won't kill you in your sleep but sharing a cot is where you draw the line," he asks, a smile curling his lips. I glare up at him, not appreciating his tone.

"It wasn't like I had a choice," I snide back.

He grins," it's not like you have much of a choice now, too."

I squint at him," you're enjoying this aren't you?"

"not at all," he fights back his smile," having to cuddle up next to my enemy isn't the highlight of my week."

"then it's settled," I clap my hands," we don't share a bed and we just risk the chance of freezing. I love it, glad we're on the same page." I stand up to walk away. He snatches my hand, tugging me back to the floor.

"No, not agreed. I can swallow my pride enough to do this and so can you. I'm not so stubborn to put my wants over my needs," he bites back. I glare daggers at him, he gives it right back. The battle of will begin, me debating on the weight of his words. I'd rather share the damn cot and keep warm but the problem is doing it with him. This truce is only here long enough for us to survive then get back to the war. I won't let myself sit here and pretend that we could be friends. No, that's out of the question. Still, we don't have to be friends to survive. I just have to bite my tongue and get on with it.

"fine," I shout," grab your bedding, it's larger than mine."

He jumps up, piling his sheets in his arms before dropping them in front of the fireplace. We sort it all out, layering some on the floor to keep the chill out. I snuggle under the blanket, looking up at him as he removes his shirt.

'Whoa, whoa," I yell," don't do that." he throws the dirty rag away and crawls into bed. His body gives my heart pause. The wound on his side has healed very nicely, looking more healed than I would have figured for only a few days. His stomach is toned, along with his chest. The fire allows shadows to dance over his torso, adding another level of appeal to his massive frame.

"skin to skin is better to keep warm. Don't have to waste time warming up the clothes," he explains, reaching out and tugging at my shirt. I slap him away, feeling more girlish at this moment than at any point in my life.

"No, no, I'll be keeping mine on," I curl my arms against my chest. He snorts, letting me be as he drops beside me. I watch him, still conflicted on letting this go on. Everything is so confusing. The goliath looks… well, attractive, lounging against the bed. His angry features look softer at the moment, almost relaxed. I don't like seeing him this way.

I lay upon the blankets, turning towards the fire. I jump when his hand curls over my stomach and tugs me against his body. He is so warm. It takes a considerable amount of effort to relax, trying my damndest to fall asleep. I close my eyes and try to pretend the warmth coming from my back isn't his.

Sleep eventually tries to take its claim. My mind fading in and out of rest. As I nearly give in I feel something press against my shoulder, foreign words being mumbled near my ear. His hand fists at my shirt, his head nuzzling against mine. I feel him kiss the back of my neck, mumbling more soft words to my back. I gasp at the feeling, my cheeks tingling from more than the fire. He stiffens behind me. Neither of us moves, neither of us makes a sound.

Nothing is said as we both pretend it never happened. Falling off into tense sleep.

The next morning is…awkward. He wakes up before me, jostling me awake as he runs out of the room. I believe he holds up in the bedroom but I can't tell or gain the courage to check. I'm in a flurry of thoughts as the tingle on the back of my neck remembers his lips. Why did he do that? Surely he hates me, or the most tolerates me. His constant disrespect to my species as a whole has shown his true feelings. For fuck sakes, he tried to kill me not even a week ago.

I circle on the thought the whole day, trying to make some sort of sense of the small bout of affection. It isn't till later that I think about my feelings towards him. I don't hate him, that's clear. I just have a bit of distrust for him. The war has been going on for years now, starting over something as trivial as land. It's grown into this hatred that's on sight. I've killed a few of his people and he has killed a few of mine. As is life as a soldier. But is that a factor now? This little bubble we have created seems to have made those rules disappear. He is domineering but kind, loud but sweet. I don't hate him, I just don't trust him.

He doesn't come back in as the night falls, staying in his room. The wood has dried enough to be used, keeping the fire large. I end up going to bed without seeing him that whole day.

The next morning I wake expecting to see him. I actually hope to see him, to get some sort of guidance on what to do around him. I look around the room, not seeing any evidence of him being here. I sigh, a bit sad at the fact he locked himself away. It's weird to be so disturbed at his absents. I ignore it and get on with the day.

The snow outside has begun melting, the sun shining brightly through the trees. It's still a good two feet and dangerous to venture in but the time here is coming to an end soon. As I watch the water drip off the roof, I grow nervous. I'll have to try to head back to my platoon soon, getting back to the war. That thought ruins my day.

The sun sets and the goliath still isn't here. Nearly two days now and I've heard nothing but some stomping around. At least I know he's still alive. I feel antsy now, tossing and turning in my cot. Why is he still avoiding me? It wasn't that bad what happened, is he embarrassed? Maybe I should go break the ice, make some peace before we part ways.

I shuffle out of my cot, wrapping the blanket around myself. Walking further into the house I stop in front of the closed bedroom door. What am I doing? Perhaps it's better to turn back and pretend nothing happened. Pretend that he didn't hold me close and whisper sweet-sounding words. A lapse of judgment happens to us all. I sigh.

Grabbing the knob I open the door. I shuffle into the darkroom, the light of the moon guiding me towards the bed. A figure sits up in the bed, glowing partially in the light. I walk around the bed, crawling in beside him. His large hands grab my hips to tug me closer. All thoughts evade me as I follow his lead. I throw my leg over his hip, straddling his lap. His hand glides up my back, petting over my braid. He digs his fingers into my hair.

"I wante-," he tries to speak. Words aren't important now. Without much thought I quiet him with my lips, taking his for mine. It's his turn to gasp, freezing while I slant my mouth against his. His fingers clench, tugging on my hair, reacting swiftly. His kiss is sweet. It's a warmth I've craved all day. I pet at his chest, touching the cold skin peeking out the tears of his shirt.

"you're cold," I mumble against him. He forces me back, licking at my lips. I trace his tongue with my own.

"you're so warm," he smiles.

His freezing fingers dig under my shirt to send a chill down my spine. I shutter in his hands, relishing in his touch trailing up to my chest. He kisses me as he twists our positions. Slowly, he guides me onto my back as he crawls over me. I don't bother thinking, wanting to focus on his touch.

He removes his shirt while I shove mine off. We smile at one another, leaning back into another kiss. I pull him close, straying off the cold with his heat. His hips slant against mine, grinding hard into my crotch. His hardening cock brings a zap of need to my body, craving more and more.

We can't wait a second more, peeling our pants off and guiding his large cock to my wet heat. I'm almost hesitant in taking him, his length and girth way bigger than I'm comfortable with. When he pecks my cheek I trust him to be gentle. I take his cock with a choked cry, his grunts playing around the quiet room. As he bottoms out we both take in a much-needed breath.

"Varoth," he says suddenly. I look at him bemused.

"What," I ask, grabbing at his arms.

"My name," he smiles," Varoth." I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. This whole time I never knew his name.

I chuckle," It's nice to meet you Varoth, I'm Evelina. You can call me Eve." he grabs my hand, holding my fingers in his palm as he lifts my knuckles to his lips.

"it's a pleasure, Eve," he presses a kiss to my skin. It's silly and sweet, I want to hit him or kiss him.

With our introductions out the way, he begins to pump. His hips slowly undulate, grinding into my hips with every descent. The feeling of him is beautiful, warm, and intoxicating. Part of me realizes the taboo of it all, sleeping with the enemy. Yet, I can't bring myself so care.

He fucks me like he cares, petting along my sides and worshipping every inch of me with his touch. His lips press every space he can reach, sucking and nipping to his heart's content. I can't look away, watching in awe as he lazily pumps his hips and kisses my chest. Not being able to take it any longer I drag him up, meeting his eyes with a smile. My thumb pets at his cheek before I slant my lips against his.

"you're so beautiful," he purrs against my mouth," so strong and determined."

"Yea," I ask, licking his top lip," I thought you hated how determined I was." his hands trail down to my hips, gripping them to buck harder in his next thrust.

"I hated how it pleased me," he groans," everything about you draws me in. That's the only thing I can hate about you." I flutter around him, twitching at his praise. His face clenches up for a moment, showing his blissful torment.

We make love this night, no doubt about it. Our slowly climbing peaks don't need to be rushed as we just enjoy one another. We kiss and bite, mumbling praises to the other as the fire inside stokes to an inferno. I break first, almost startled by the sudden pleasure. I writhe and cry out, clenching around him. He doesn't falter as he watches me fall apart. It's not till I'm laying exhausted in the sheet does he take his own end. His hips clap against mine, taking his fill before spilling in me. He groans long and loud, collapsing atop of me.

Sometime later we lay cuddled in bed. He curls around my back, hugging me at the waist. His arm pillows my head, allowing me to play with his hand. I compare our sizes, amazed at how easily he can fit my hand in his. His large fingers please me, them curling over mine.

"Were you embarrassed about the other night," I ask as I trace the lines of his palm.

He hums," I didn't know you were still awake."

"so you decided to hide in here till the snow melted," I tease. He grabs my hand in his, intertwining out fingers.

"It sounds childish when you say it like that."

"Well, it was," I say. He nips at my shoulder in retort.

"You have a power over me that makes me act like a whelp. I can't help but act a fool when you're near," he pecks my shoulder. I hum, smiling to myself.

We fall asleep in the cold room, keeping each other warm. It's the best sleep I've gotten since we got here. Though my toes feel near frozen and my thighs feel sticky, it's the most restful night.

Come morning I wake to a breeze ghosting over my back. I shiver, rolling over to snuggle into Varoth. Cold is all I'm met with. I stretch my arm out, feeling the empty bed. Confused I bolt upright, looking over the vacant area. I look around the room. His clothes are missing along with him. Perhaps he is already by the fire.

I get dressed and walk out into the main room. The only thing that greets me is a blazing fireplace, even the cots are cleaned up and put away.

"Varoth," I call out.

Nothing.

I search the whole cabin, an unsettling feeling curling in my chest. When I open the front door I get my answer. The snow has melted through the morning, coming to a manageable height. In the snow is footprints leading out and away. My jaw ticks as I slam the door shut.

Guess it's over now.

I pack up my things numbly. The hike through the woods is lonely, not even the birds keep me company. It's well towards sunset when I finally find civilization, a small town a few miles away from the woods. I make contact with the crew stationed here and get back to my life before everything.

The next few weeks feel hollow. Working has lost its appeal, it's passion. I fought for a purpose, to be free of the goliath's anger. To reclaim the lands they stole from us. It was a solid following, but now? Every fight I can't even bother to look at them, seeing the humanity in every single one. What's the point of reclaiming the mountains? Why try to take that away from them when it's all they have?

It's a month later when I resign from the war, dishonorably discharged. I try to live out of the path of the war but it seems there it's not much of an escape. The people still rant and rave about the goliaths. I pick up and leave, making it to a neutral town far away from it all. Starting a new life in a new land.

I make a career for myself as a blacksmith's assistant. The years of hard labor in the service have toughed me up for such back-breaking work. I offer the large orc my help in fetch tasks, at least till I learn enough to be of actual use.

"Eve," the orc grunts," you don't mind heading over to the lumbermill to get me some wood for handles?'

"Of course not," I jump up," anything to not be sitting in this sweltering heat."

The older man laughs, wiping sweat from his brow," you're telling me."

With an objective, I make my way down the village. The small hunting village is home to a melting pot of creatures. It's almost a haven for all. Orcs and dwarves work together along with humans and elves. It's nice living somewhere so accepting.

I make it to the mill at the edge of town. The saw is heard from down the road, the crew already hard at work. I walk around till I spot someone chopping wood in the center of a pile of logs. He is a pasty man, large and strong. I call out to him.

"Excuse me, sir," I shout over the saw. The man launches his ax down again, splitting the log easily. With that done he glances over his shoulder. I almost recoil at the sight, my traitorous heart lurching.

"Evelina," Varoth gawks. His deep gravelly voice nearly calms my nerves. It's nice to see him, at the same time that it isn't. I almost contemplate running.

"Varoth," I growl. He tosses his ax, walking over with his loud steps. His quick movement startles me into taking a step back. He comes to me fast, grabbing at my arms before I can race off. I fight in his hold, angry and frustrated with him. He left and it still stings. I never let myself think about it, labeling the memories as forbidden in my mind. He pulls me flush to his sweaty chest, my feet dangling off the ground. His mouth captures mine in a fierce embrace.

For a moment I can forget my ire, melting into his touch like a lovesick woman. I give myself that few seconds, and only that.

I push him away, shaking out of his arms and falling to the ground before slapping him across the face. He barely flinches, his head staying still.

"You don't get to do that," I stab my finger into his chest," you have no right!"

"I know," he grunts, looking at me with awe. He doesn't look mad or confused, but happy. It plucks at my nerves and my heart.

"Fuck you, Varoth," I spit," you don't get to grab me like that and kiss me as nothing happen. Like you didn't leave me alone in that bed, confused and worried. Do you understand how much it hurt to see your footsteps in the snow that morning? I had to suck it up for weeks, pretend that what happened never happened. I had to fight on like my enemy doesn't look just like you." a frustrated tear rolls down my cheek. I wipe it away and continue, letting out the anger and hate I've hidden for weeks.

"You made me so confused! I knew what I was before we fell off that hill, I knew what I fought for. Then you came and fucked me up, fucked me over. I was left conflicted and scared as I walked back to the life I knew. But it really wasn't the life I knew, it was all wrong. I had to drop everything I used to know and start all over again because you fucking kissed my neck and whispered sweet words. So fuck you, Varoth," I vent," fuck you."

Speaking felt like opening an old wound. I always imagined what would happen if I saw Varoth again. I thought I would just walk by him and pretend that nothing went on between us, to hold my head high and ignore him. I wanted to be better than this, to care as little as he did when he left. I hiccup, snorting back snot. I can't do that. That night meant more to be than him it seems.

I shutter as sobs try to wrack my body, the months finally catching up to me. Varoth tugs me into his arms, petting at my back as I cry. I beat at his chest, wanting to be angry, but all I feel is tired.

"I'm sorry, Eve," he crouches down to his knees, burying his face against my hair," I couldn't stay, we both know that. Saying goodbye would have been too hard for me. I was a coward, and for that I'm sorry." I let him hold me, stealing his comfort as it's what I'm owed.

"You should have said something," I mumble, exhausted, against his shoulder," I felt so used that morning. Like that night meant nothing to you. I could only think that you truly saw me as some low life human to be used and discard."

He recoils at my words, reaching up and cupping my cheeks. His eyes dart between mine, his brow pinched in concern.

"That night meant everything," he says sternly," I am just a coward who couldn't face the consequence of the next day. Do not think any longer that I wanted to use you because that is the biggest lie I can think of."

I can't help but snort in amusement," I guess you're the real poltroon."

He smiles, softening as he speaks," yea, I guess I am."

We stand in the lumberyard just staring at one another, so much left to be said. Yet, all I can think about is kissing those plump pale lips.

"Varoth," I cup his hand against my cheek," why are you here?"

His thumb pets under my eye," I moved here shortly after the snow completely melted. I couldn't fight in a war I no longer believed in."

"I understand that," I nod bitterly," should I be so bold to assume I'm the reason for that change?"

He smiles, leaning down to drop his head against mine," of course you are. Every change I've made since meeting you is your fault." I choke out a laugh, more tears rolling down my cheeks. Nothing stops me from reaching up and kissing his cheek, his nose, his lips. I've missed him. He returns the gesture, making a smile curl up my face as he kisses me everywhere.

"I have yearned for you every day," he kisses my cheek," scolding myself for being such a fool ever since."

I giggle from his attention," you have been known to be an idiot, but I've missed you too."

He stops his kisses, rolling his forehead against mine," do you think I'd be allowed to make up for lost times?"

"I don't know," I look to him with a teasing glint in my eye," you still have to make up for leaving me cold and alone in bed."

"That I do," he shuts his eyes," perhaps spend my whole life making up for that mistake."

It's a long while before we can gain the courage to split apart, making plans to meet up after work. He helps me carry the wood to the blacksmith, catching me up on his life since he found the village. I can't stop the smiling that graces my lips.

I think everything is going to be a-okay.

[some-dr-writings]

Nagito comforts a depressed Reader

·       In all honesty, it was a rather lovely day. Winter was showing signs of ending, not quite cool or warm. A breeze gently rolled past, lightly rustling the leaves. There were scarcely any clouds in that endlessly deep blue sky.

·       A lovely day…

·       And yet…

·       You strolled along the path with no particular destination, just like your life. Just moving because you were born, no other reason. No ambition. No pride. No dreams. And yet you were called ‘super high school level’, ‘ultimate’… what the hell did those mean anyway? Did you have a path now? Just follow wherever your talent led? Was that your only choice now? Well, you already screwed that up so probably not. Sighing, you continued to walk along, getting absorbed in the blue sea that hung above you.

·       Walking along the road you listened to the tapping of your and others’ foot falls against the stone sidewalk. Your head was just empty. Anything absorbed your attention, consuming everything. It felt like you were underwater. You were aware of your surroundings, but it was all blurry, not able to fully comprehend what was around you unless you bothered to reach out, but even then there was something in the way, whether it be the water or yourself.

·       Suddenly you and someone else crashed into one another. “A-ah, I’m so sorry!” You managed to squeak that out seeing the other person had fallen to the ground.

·       Great, you screwed up, again.

·       Like always.

·       Your vision blurred, tears percolating in the corners of your eyes. Before the stranger could say anything, you dashed away. Leaving him to watch as your silhouette faded into the distant crowd. “Huh? What’s this?”

·       Damn it. This was so dumb. You shouldn’t be crying over this! It was just a little accident… You tried taking deep breaths to ease yourself but it all just kept welling up. Everything. All the stresses, all the fear, all the confusion and sadness. You couldn’t stop or hold back any of it anymore. Even as your breathing hitched, wiping the continuous tears away, you kept walking.

·       Then you heard something. A bird? A seagull. And… waves. Following the sounds, you found yourself leaving the quiet streets for the seaside. The beach seemed to stretch for miles while the ocean was endless, the horizon being nonexistent, the sea and sky appearing to be one and the same. The wind was much more powerful than before carrying that salty scent wherever it went. The shore and town were on separate elevations, only when you had found a small staircase and descended did you see there was a small area of grass separating the sand and the stone settlement of the town. It all appeared so grey or at least muted in color. Perhaps it was because of the patches of snow that sill sat on the grass, refusing to melt even under the sun’s rays. There was not a soul around, just you.

·       Not wanting to deal with the aftermath of sand getting stuck in your shoes you took them off, walking barefoot along the shoreline, the foaming water lapping at your feet. It was freezing. Then you sat, hugging your knees to your chest, the waves occasionally reaching your toes.

·       You never realized just how noisy the beach was even when no one was around.

·       …

·       It even sounds like it’s screaming sometimes…

·       Screaming that kept getting louder with each second…

·       Okay, what was-

·       The noise came to a stop when a boy suddenly appeared beside you. From the marks behind him it seemed he slid face first against the sand! “A-are you okay, sir?” “I’m fine, just some bad luck.” You tried helping him up, gently pulling him by his arm. “Um, you sure? You look… hurt.” He was absolutely banged up, covered in scratches and bruises. His clothes were covered in sand, lightly tattered, absolutely disheveled. There were even leaves and some trash in his hair. “Really, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Then it seemed he noticed something. “Are you okay though?” “Huh!? U-uh…” “Probably not, you started crying when we bumped into each other earlier.” “You’re the same guy!?” You never took a good look at the person, but what you vaguely remember was similar to this guy, most notably the white hair. “I’m so sorry!” “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I don’t mind. You seem to be having a rough day.” “I… I…” Your voice quieted and waivered. “I guess you could say that.” You couldn’t stop the tears forming in your eyes, you turned back to the nonexistent horizon wanting to pretend you were trying to hide it.

·       And you just let yourself indulge in it. That oppressive sadness and pain that constantly crushed you under it’s unbearable weight. “Want to talk about it?” Why was he still here? “I’m just a nobody, the best I can do is hope to be useful, a steppingstone for others.” You buried your face into your knees. You just…

·       Other than sheer laziness, you didn’t see why not.

·       “Do you see it? The horizon?” He looked, even squinting his eyes. “No.” “It all looks like one giant ocean that’s endlessly surrounding us. When you first step into the ocean, it seems nice, but the further in you go the more you realize just how endless it is, not just on the surface though. It just sinks. Deeper and deeper, darker and darker it gets, till you can’t see any light at all. And the more water there is above you, the more pressure there is. With so much pressure, it can be impossible to even open your eyes, to try to do anything anymore. By the time you even begin to wonder which why is up or down, you can’t do anything anymore, and you just keep sinking. Sinking where, you don’t know, you can’t even tell if somehow you were starting to float upwards. And you just keep going and going. When you want to try, it’s impossible to anymore. No matter h-how much you fight, you can’t stop it. You can’t move. You have no control, at all.” Though he didn’t say anything, the unlucky boy thought of your words, taking them in, finding their sentiment, your situation, all too familiar.

·       Then you started laughing. It was a pitiful, quiet laugh, sounding like a cut-up cry. “T-that… has been my entire life… and… heh, know what the worst part is?” You honestly couldn’t care what this stranger thought anymore. Even that was too much of a pain, you were just… exhausted. You looked to him, letting him see your tear stained cheeks, puffy eyes, your red face and pained expression. “I purposely sink myself. I do it over and over and over again. It’s comfortable, being in misery. I’ve been in it for so long, I don’t know anything else. Any chance I get at happiness, I destroy it. I’m scared. I don’t want to be like this anymore but before I can even think to stop myself, it’s too late, I’ve already destroyed the opportunity beyond repair and I tie another stone around my neck to sink deeper. I don’t want this, but I can’t stop myself. J-just like this time… this time i… i…” You couldn’t even keep your head up. You just… slumped over. “I received the opportunity of a lifetime on a silver platter and I just ruined it. Without a second thought! It could change my life, I could gain some semblance of control, but I just…”

·       You couldn’t even speak anymore.

·       You couldn’t do anything.

·       You just kept sinking, like always.

·       “You’ll be okay.” “huh?” “You’ll be okay. Even now I see it. The hope blooming inside you! It’s so brilliant and bright! Even though this is the lowest you’ve sunk, and you handicap yourself, you’re still fighting for hope! And even if you sink further, that hope inside you will not break. When you get past this, you’ll be unstoppable! The deeper the despair you face now, the greater your hope will be when you overcome it!” “… what? you don’t even know me. you don’t know that. i don’t need you to lie to me.” “I’m not lying. And you know it.” Amongst the crashing waves and the call of seagulls, you heard a new sound. A light crinkling? You slightly tilted your face as to see what it was from the corner of your eye. “… how did you get that.” “I found it on the ground when we bumped into each other earlier.” You shut your eyes and nuzzled into the little warmth you still held. “The letter is only partially burnt. You stopped yourself.” “… I’m just going to burn it later.” “… No, you won’t. Look at your hands.” You didn’t move… Ever so gently, he lifted up one of your hands. “You stopped yourself this time, it’s already blooming, you’re already trying to change.” Sighing, you glanced at it for but a moment. “It’s just my hand.” “You’re burned.” “… I’m physically self-destructive as well as emotionally and mentally, so what?” “You grabbed the letter as it was burning, even though you would get hurt… You wanted to save it. You may want to wallow in despair, but the hope inside you has grown so much, you can’t repress it anymore. You’re scared to change, but your want for change will soon outweigh the fear.” He slipped the letter into your hand. “But… by the time you gain the courage to take the leap, to try to swim to the surface, it might be too late. I don’t know what this opportunity is, but… it’s clear you want it. You should go for it… but this is coming from a nobody, so I guess my opinion doesn’t really matter.” You felt a small, deep chuckle rumble deep in his chest. “great, another way to screw over myself.” “Another challenge you’ll overcome.” “or not.” “You will.” “you don’t know that.” “I do.” “that’s impossible.” “It’s not.” “i don’t believe you.” “You don’t have too.” “… well you… i… but… I don’t know how to respond to that.”

·       You sighed, realizing you were defeated. You held up the letter, taking a better look. Seeing the ash, you recalled how you so fervently grabbed it off the newly lit log in the fireplace… “I don’t believe you, not a word you say. But… I… might want to believe. Maybe? I don’t know.” You hugged that comforting warmth, not wanting to think of this. Just letting yourself get lost in the moment. The sounds of the waves. The cool wind rushing past. The soft sand and the warmth you felt in the unlucky guy’s voice, his words, what you were holding so tightly and the feeling growing in your chest.

·       Wait…

·       It was then you realized it.

·       When you helped the guy get up, you never let go of his arm… and eventually you started hugging it… And you were leaning your head on his shoulder, even nuzzling into him during your entire conversation… You were even still holding hands…

·       You threw yourself back, a new warmth spreading across your entire face. “I-I, I. I’M SO SORRY! I DIDN’T REALIZE I WAS TOUCHING YOU! WAIT, NO THAT SOUNDS BAD, I WASN’T-I DIDN’T MEAN- I’M SO SORRY!” You ran away as quickly as you could. This was so freaking embarrassing! What were you doing!? In your panic you didn’t notice how when you ran off you were running on sand… Sand which was kicked up and crashed into the poor, unlucky boy. “Huh… was meeting them the good luck that evened out the bad from earlier?”

·       You were so embarrassed you ran all the way home. Once there it sunk in what you had done. And you felt so ashamed for leaving him behind like that.

·       You dwelled on that encounter. For a long time you did. Eventually you reached a conclusion. Taking a deep breath, you accepted the offer. You needed to make a change. Now.

·       Not even two months later and there you were, standing at the entrance of Hope’s Peak. You were actually here. You were going to do this. You trembled, feeling your heart booming in your ears and against your ribcage. This was it. A new chapter in your life that you made happen. A chapter you had control over.

·       Then you heard a crashing sound, seeing something fall out of a tree. You raced up to it, hearing groaning. “I wonder what this bad luck streak is leading up too? It’s been two months now.” “It’s you!” “Huh? Oh.” You were here. “I’m so sorry about just leaving you at the beach! Here, please let me help you up, and I won’t hug your arm this time, I swear. Heh, hehe, heh… I just kinda like hugs and touches and stuff. Wait! Don’t take it the wrong way! That sounded weird, didn’t it? Sorry!” He smiled, instantly knowing that this moment, you reaching your hand out to help him to his feet, chatting away as you walked to class together, being in the exact same class. This was what all that bad luck was leading up too. Meeting you again.

[no-worshiped-roads]

Alright I’d said I’d do something from May’s POV so here we go

@wisteriarotting more for your awesome au

also massive warning for body horror, and implied gore and violence, and some swearing

Mayday listened through the door as the footsteps faded away. Her chest rattled with every breath, threatening to send her into a coughing fit. She let her body slide down the doors until she was laying awkwardly against it on her side. Flopping around the best she could so that her back was against the doors now, she let her emotions loose.

May’s face had wet trails running down her cheeks till she was full on sobbing. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. After everything she had been through, the infection still won.

“GAK!”

Mayday suddenly heaved forward in pain, her sobs having aggravated her infected body. She briefly spasmed in pain, before it stopped. She panted, catching her breath as best she could, finding it hard to breath. It had been getting harder to breath for a while. May let herself slide to the floor in a fetal position, having stopped crying.

‘I guess the one good thing out of all of this is that Zuke, Kliff, and everyone else got to escape. At least they’re not dying with me.’

Mayday winced at that thought. While she knew she was more or less dying, before the infection took her body and will completely, it didn’t make accepting it any easier. She examined the scales again, feeling more just below her skin, stretching and burning it from underneath. Her feet ached from being twisted into an unfamiliar shape, and honestly she was surprised with herself for being able to walk on them for so long. Her teeth were constantly cutting her gums and cheeks now.

‘I wonder if they’ll change shape or just fall out? Probably won’t be conscious for it.’

She had found some tape recorders, and decided to leave some messages behind like the other artists did. She didn’t want to fade out as a faceless monster.

“I’m not sure how much time has passed since I made Zuke, Kliff, Aunty, Kayane, and Gigi leave me behind. We had been through a lot together, saving Gigi, Kayane, and Aunty from the districts they were trapped in. Beating the NSR artists, or...what was left of them. I honestly thought we would all escape together. .......... But this infection has a sick sense of humor I guess. I started feeling sick, getting bad headaches and body pains. I didn’t think anything of it ya know?”

“Just thought it was soreness from the battles and all that horrible noise. But then my skin started to burn from beneath, and by the time we reached Eve, scales had started growing. My feet had become twisted, though that was all easily hidden with some stolen clothes. But I knew my time was coming to an end. So after we beat Tatiana, I forced them to leave without me. Locked them outside the tower.”

“I’m happy they were able to escape. I really am. And, Ms. Natura? If-if you ever come across my body, however ruined it is. Could you please bury it?”

Mayday wasn’t sure how many days she spent in this tower. With only the dull light from the front doors to go by, it was anybody’s guess. Maybe a week? or maybe even more, who knows. Who cares. Mayday certainly didn’t. She passed her time by playing her guitar, but found her hands becoming sore and tired from her constant playing. But it was the only thing keeping her mind at the now. But eventually it had to end. Her guitar started falling apart. Mayday found herself blacking out and when ever she woke, more of her guitar was missing.

First the picks, though she just used her hands. Be damned if they bled from it. then the strings started to disappear and she couldn’t play it at all anymore. The last piece to go missing was the detachable part that adding an extra kick to her guitar. The final time she blacked out she woke to the guitar in pieces. Had she done that? Had something else? Guess it didn’t matter, her guitar was gone, and she was back to slipping deeper into the infection taking over her mind.

“I wonder how far away they are now?” May muttered. “I bet they’ve found somewhere to live, I mean, the infection-”

“SCReeee-EEEEEEE.”

May slapped her hands over her mouth. she had been losing her ability to speak lately. Horrible sounds were ripping out of her throat every time she spoke for too long. And now she was getting to speak even less before that-  noise happened. It scared her. Hearing that sound come from her. She didn’t know what was worst: the bitter irony that it sounded like sour notes on her guitar, or that only one kind of infected made noise like this.

‘Please just let me be a faceless infected. It’ll be easier.’

‘I wonder if the infection is just limited to this city? I really hope it is. Zuke, Kliff, none of them deserve to run for the rest of their lives.’

“SCreeee-EEEEEEEE”

Mayday screamed out and fell forward as her body was overcome with agonizing pain. She writhed around on the floor, screeching like her guitar once did when she hit a bad note. Blackness began overtaking the edges of her vision, until with one finally spasm, she blacked out once more.

May’s body ached, and head throbbed as she came to. She opened her eyes, and had to blink several times to get her vision back, though it was blurry now. And she couldn’t get it to go away. May rubbed at her eyes and winced when something nicked her cheek. Her sight was a bit better, but still bad.

‘Am i gonna lose my sight?’

Mayday looked down at her hands, and gagged at the sight of them. They had become misshapen like her feet. they spread weird with webbing between the now very long fingers. They were covered in scales, and had some dangerously sharp claws on them now. Glancing down at her feet she saw they looked about the same way. Forcing herself to her feet, Mayday found she couldn’t stand on them flat anymore, she was stuck walking on the front of them. She had definitely grown more scales, so much so there was hardly any of her normal skin left. She stopped looking at herself, seeing her legs and arms as ruined as they were was enough.

A certain smell finally reached May’s nose and she crinkled her face. She knows that smell. One hardly forgets the smell of the sewers when you live down in the for so long. But why could she smell that here? As her eyes adjusted to the darkness with her poorer vision, and she could see a hole in the middle of the floor. Just, a giant hole, that by the smell coming from it, clearly led to the sewers.

‘Did-did I do that? When I blacked out? How long was I unconscious?’

Mayday stumbled to the hole, and looked down into the blackness. “m-m-might as wel-well g-g-g-go.”

May’s throat ached. Fine, no more talking then. She climbed down into the hole, down to the sewers, this was her home after all. Might as well as take up residence somewhere comfy before she was gone. She didn’t want to stay in that tower anymore, not with Tatiana’s corpse. Or with the memories of how her own life ended there that day. She wondered why Yinu’s mother never came to collect the body. Or maybe she had and May was just out cold when it happened. She wandered around the rooms a lot after all. Didn’t see the point of staying in the main lobby all the time. Her footsteps clacked on the concrete tunnels due to her claws.

It took her a while to get her bearings, May’s mind being fuzzy about the details of the sewers. Like she had forgotten where some of the tunnels lead. But eventually, she found it. Their old home. Her old home.

‘A good a place to die as any I guess’

May sat on the couch that was in their, her, “den.” She glanced around her home, her now, permanent home. There was an area that was makeshift kitchen, if you could call it that. It was honestly just a place where they could prepare whatever food they could scrounge up. With more and more people succumbing to the infection, less and less necessities like food were able to be made or harvested. By the time the majority of the city was infected, they had stopped getting food and medical supplies in.

To her left she saw the sleeping area, covered with sleeping bags and old mattresses, and even a bunk bed. Seeing the bunk bed made her heart hurt. The point of the bunk bed was to share it, but now she was going to be sleeping in it alone. The bottom bunk would remain empty from now on. There were some personal items of the others, like spare clothes and what not that were left behind. They didn’t need to be weighed down so they were left here. Sounds of movement grabbed May’s attention and she turned to where it was coming from.

Something crawled out of the waters, and froze upon seeing her, hissing. It was a large, but short creature, belly scrapping along the ground. Sharp spines peaked out from the large mane of raggedy hair that covered the back and head of it. It had a elongated jaw full of teeth that forced their way past its lips due to their large size. Along, fat tail slapped on the ground, with a thick nest of spines sitting on the tip. The rest of the body was covered in dull, ugly blue scales, and four pairs of eyes glared at her.

“...E-E-Ell-ieeEEee?”

The sound messed up her speech again, but May didn’t care. Standing before her was Ellie, or what was left of her. Mayday adored the alligator, or Elliegator as she would affectionately call her. But she was a wild animal, so when the infection began to take hold in her, she couldn’t fight it like a human could. It was only two weeks before they lost Ellie, and after she had bit Zuke when she attacked them, she fled into the waters. They hadn’t seen her since.

Till now anyway. Elliegator hissed at her again, and shuffled off to their “kitchen.” She began tearing into some leftover food on the dishes, and only then did May realize how hungry she was. Her belly grumbled, and there was nothing for her to eat. She could go scavenge, but she was unsure if her body could take it. Her stomach growled again, and that made up her mind.

‘Gotta find something, anything.’

She hadn’t walked far down a nearby tunnel when it felt like her head was being split open. Mayday fell to her knees clutching at hair in pain.

‘Skritch. skritch skritch. Squeak.’

Something was moving around the tunnels, several somethings. But the pounding in her head wouldn’t let her focus

‘skrith scratch squeak’

Seriously what the hell was it.

‘squeak squeak’

WHY WOULDN’T THIS PAIN JUST FUCKING STOP?!

‘SQUEEEAKKK! SCREE! SCREEEE!’

May day opened her eyes, feeling the coolness of concrete pressed against her cheek. Groaning she pushed herself up to a sitting position. She blacked out again, that was happening a lot lately. That meant the infection was getting worse. The next thing Mayday noticed was red. Red smeared on the concrete tunnels. A bitter, coppery scent assaulted her nose, and told her that all that red was blood. Looking up further she saw where the blood came from.

Just like with Ellie, any animals in Vinyl City were amongst the first to go. The rats of the sewers were no exceptions, they had grown to the size of small puppies, With spines between their shoulder and eyes all over their bodies. Disgusting, but easy to beat. A good kick was all it took. But these rats? they had been ripped apart. Torn to shreds, leaving nothing but fur and some skin with crushed bones and spines mixed in. And there were a lot of these dead ones.

Then May became aware of the taste in her mouth. That salty, metallic, bitter taste. Her skin around her mouth and her lips felt dry and caked in something, something awful. Bringing her hand to her mouth, and minding her claws this time, she wiped it off. Glancing down at her hands she felt her heart stutter, painfully so. Any other time she might have focused on the pain, but no. She was stuck on the dried brownish red crust the had come off of her mouth. Bits of fur, rat fur, were mixed into the gunk.

Bile rose in the back of May’s throat and immediately she threw up. The vomit was red in color, bits of bone and fur mixed in the slurry. She killed those rats, she ate them. She didn’t know what was worse. That she had eaten those rats, or that her blackouts had her doing things she couldn’t remember. And that those things were getting more violent.

More days had passed and May found herself forgetting things. She forgot stuff from her past, like her school days, she forgot what her own guitar looked like, she couldn’t even remember what.... what... that thing that was here with her looked like. What was its name again? She could remember Zuke and Kliff though. There were others she knew there were but....they were just...gone. She wouldn’t forget Zuke and Kliff. She refused to, clinging onto those memories tightly, not wanting to lose anymore. So she made another recording.

“I-I’m forgetting things. Memories are just gone. I don’t remember my childhood, or my parents. There’s this thing here with me, some kind of reptile I think. I know it but....what is its name?! I’m losing to this infection even more. There were six of us before but... I can only remember Kliff and Zuke. Who were the other three? I know them, I care for them but....”

“They’re just gone, like they never existed to me. I just.... *sobs* I wish this infection would kill me quicker. I don’t want to die like this! Forgetting everything and everyone, fading away till I’m nothing but the infection. Please. This is a horrible way to fucking die.”

She had been unable to continue, breaking down into sobs as she fully realized her situation.

The thing had since stopped hissing at her. It wasn’t friendly by any means but seemed to accept the fact that she was here. It didn’t fight her over food anymore, instead opting to scavenge what she didn’t eat. May found herself not caring about eating other animals now. It turned her stomach still, but she was able to keep it down.

“..down here?”

“no. those guys left, i think they actually got out to.”

“Damn, we should of gone with.”

“Too late now, might as well hunker down where its safe. since that monster in NSR tower is gone, we should be able to walk out too.”

Mayday was shocked to hear voices in the tunnels. She didn’t think there were any other survivors. The only others they had run into when they were fighting the NSR artists, were dead. They had met untimely ends at the regular infected, or worse at the hands of the artists.

“yeah their place should be just up ah-”

“...shit”

Mayday looked over to her right to see some people. She really couldn’t make what they looked like, her eyesight had been getting even worse. So she likely was going blind, or, nearly so anyway. They were frozen though, she could still see movement, and they were making none.

“I thought they left?!”

“Dude why would she leave look at her! She’s a fucking freak like the others!”

May, insulted, felt something rumbled in her chest at that comment.

“How about we not insult the ‘freak’ man? Especially given you know they used to be someone before that damn infection..”

“I think that’s that one chick with the guitar.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well what do we do? we need this area more than her, but she’ll probably attack us.”

‘They need MY home? Are they really gonna to try and rive me out of this place? But if I leave, I’ll begin to forget everything else? and what about...it. I can’t leave that with them. No, this is my home, mine.’

“G-g -way”

The figures jolt, not expecting her to speak. A strange sound echoes in her ears.

“Holy- is she still in there?”

“Maybe she’s not done mutating?”

“g-g way”

The sound is louder, familiar. Like...music?

“How is she not done?! You can hardly tell she’s human anymore!”

“Maybe we should stop trying to provoke her and just leave?”

“Sorry I’m with him on this one. Look at her throat and chest, like, what the fuck are those parts? Besides we could use this place. Let’s get rid of her while we still can.”

“G-G-WAY”

It sounded like sour notes, like strings. Static too. She was feeling...something. Something bad.

“Guys we need to leave, remember the number one rule? Don’t get into fights you don’t need to?”

“Pretty sure we need this base.”

“uh, guys? sh-she looks-”

“we can find somewhere else!”

“g-guys?”

Anger. She felt angry. This was her territory, hers. And she would defend it from these intruders.

“ScreeE-EEEEEAAAAAAAAA”

“OH SHIT!”

Mayday was confused. When did she move off the couch? She was breathing hard, and her heart was thrumming in her chest. It felt...wrong. It sounded wrong, like there was...clacking? Every time she breathed she could hear something weird too...like twanging. Those survivors were gone, something scared them off. There was fresh blood on the ground. Did it belong to them?

‘They seemed freaked out when they saw me. Do I look that different? It’s just scales right?’

She looked over and saw a half of a cracked mirror leaning against the wall in a pile of junk. She...hadn’t looked at herself in a long time. saw no point to it. Yet now...she felt she needed to. She had to. Walking over to the junk pile, she began clearing some of the pile away to get to the mirror. Her hands and arms didn’t look human at all anymore. There was no skin left just orangish dark red scales that looked almost black in the lack of light. Her hands were now almost like a komodo dragon’s, but with webbing between the fingers. And those claws...those...red tinted, wet...claws.

May winced, hoping that was from whatever animals she had been eating. Finally wrestling the mirror piece out, she walked over to where there was a bit of light coming down from a grate. She leaned the mirror against some boxes, and took a deep breath. That sound again. Mayday looked into the mirror.

And felt her heart skip some beats.

What was that staring back at her? That-that wasn’t her. Those same scales absolutely covered her, no skin was showing anywhere. He hair was almost completely gone, in its place spines had begun growing out of her head, neck, and back. Her mouth had split open wide, taking up most of her lower face, and it was lie her jaw was...growing. Getting longer. May’s teeth were mangled, sharp, ugly things jutting out of her mouth a bit, though not as bad as the thing living with her. her legs were bent awkwardly in a strange shape, with no hope of them ever being straight again.

Her feet looked almost exactly like her hands, and she was taller. Or rather...longer. Her body was unusually thin and elongated, making her hunch over weirdly to keep balanced. Then there was what looked like a tail starting to grow, though it was hard to tell. Then there was the...extra parts. She had been wondering where her guitar parts went...well she found them. There were strange scales that jutted out from her lower arms and legs that were once her guitar picks.

Then the strings were now fused into her throat, they moved every time she breathed.

“wh-wha-AAEEEEee”

Apparently every time she spoke too. The strings had fused with her vocal chords. It was why she was having trouble speaking. She probably wouldn’t be able to anymore some time soon. A rattling sound got her attention and she saw her final missing guitar piece. the detachable head was now embedded in her chest where hear heart was. She could see muscle and  sinew had grown over it, keeping it in place. Every time her heart beat, it twitched, making that noise.

The only thing that hadn’t changed were her eyes. Maybe they were a bit bigger, to match her new size, but still. The same color and everything. At least there was that, huh?

Mayday dragged herself over to the sleeping area, and flopped down on a mattress on the ground. This was usually where Aunty slept, but due to May’s new and larger size, it was what she needed to sleep on. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to look the bunk bed for long, much less sleep in it. Exhaustion suddenly crept over her, and May let her eyes close as she drifted off into sleep.

One more recording, one last one before she was gone.

“Whoever find this recording, please. You have to leave. I can’t fight it anymore, it’s winning and I can’t fucking beat it *cough, cough cough* I-I am always in pain, I’m forgetting so many things now. I *aEEEe* .... I’m losing the ability to speak. I, I’m so scared. If I’m becoming like those that we fought all that time ago, like the artists........I don’t have much time left, so please do this for me. Run away from this city, leave this place, there’s no *screAAEe* no sav-saving this place.”

“And if you meet some people named Zuke and Kliff, tell them I’m sorry.”

The days all bled together honestly, it was the same routine. Wake up, find she had hunted more animals while out cold, laze around the area, finding where that creature was, nothing else. Well, save for the occasional encounter with those survivors. They kept coming back, but were keeping their distance. It still irritated her to say the least, why couldn’t they just leave her in peace? this was her home, and she wasn’t gonna give it up to, to...intruders.

May had been finding it harder to walk on two legs lately, opting to lumber around on all fours. It felt right. She hated that it felt right. Her eyesight had definitely gotten worst. She wasn’t blind by any means, but everything appeared as blurred out figures, making them indistinguishable from each other. The only way she could tell if something was likely alive was if it moved. And by if they let off heat. For some reason she could see heat, which made her poor vision a bit easier.

But boy, oh boy did it not really matter in the end. Because boy, oh boy could she hear. It didn’t matter how far away it was or how small it was, she could hear it. Pinpoint its location exactly. Mayday also found this weird, fog? that surrounded her. A look in the mirror confirmed it was coming from her, every time she breathed. it didn’t seem to affect her or the other creature, but anything else that breathed it for too long died.

She was also forgetting more. All she could remember now was her name, and, and....Zuke. That was the name Zuke. He was...a friend she thinks, no...more like, a brother. Yeah, that was right. His face was fuzzy, but she could remember his smile, his voice, his laugh. Then there was vague pictures of another man. Red hair, glasses, a...scarf? But, who was he? Mayday can’t remember.

Days had passed and she forgot her own name. And someone else but, maybe she just imagined that. I mean, if there no memories and only a feeling there, did that person ever exist in the first place? No. She just imagined that person. But she would remember Zuke. He looked like.... he sounded like.......

His name is Zuke, it’s Zuke. Zuke. Zuke....Zuke.....

Who?

She had to chase the intruders away again. They kept encroaching on her territory, threatening her. So she fought back and made them leave. These intruders were soft, easy to tear with teeth and claws. They were loud, not that she could understand them. Or knew what they looked like. Just vague shapes with heat radiating off of them. Not that it mattered anyway. She was getting tired of them coming here.

She had hunted for herself, finding food down here a bit more scarce. Or at least, large enough food to fill her. More often than not she was hungry still after feasting on what she could scrounge up. There was a larger creature here with her but, no. She wouldn’t eat it. She felt...something for the beast. So she’d leave it be.

Everyday those intruders came back. They were getting more aggressive for all it did for them. She outmatched them in everything. Towering over them in size, faster, stronger, fiercer. Every time they tried to kill her, and failed. And every day she grew angrier and more aggressive herself. They couldn’t stay around her long either, her defense, he poisonous breath, was more than they could handle. This time one of them didn’t flee with the others when she beat them again.

It lay there on the ground, unmoving. Nudging it with her claws still offered no reaction. She could hear no heartbeat, no breathing. she had never touched it, so it must have died to the poison. What was she to do with this thing now? Let it rot? What other use did it have? So she left it, there was something about that she knew...sort of. Telling her to leave it be. So she did.

The creature that made its den here as well had found the body days later. She could hear it tearing into the corpse, devouring it in gusto. The intruders had yet to show themselves again, perhaps the death of one of their pack would make them stay away. But for now she was content with letting her companion consume the corpse. Listening to it eat made her realize her own hunger, and so she left to hunt. Perhaps she’d find something filling this time?

She didn’t. There really wasn’t much left down here. She was travelling further and further to find food, but it seemed most creatures knew to avoid her now. all she could find were small morsels. As she trudged back to her territory she heard something. It was those intruders again. They were smart enough to wait till she left this time. She could hear them screaming something, they sounded distressed. But she couldn’t understand what they were saying. All that she could hear was static and white noise.

She rounded around the corner, but stayed hidden in the shadows. She could see their vague shapes moving, the warmth they let off was very high. As if they had just strained themselves in a hunt. But that did not hold her attention for long. Laying in the middle of them was a figure. A familiar shape and heat, that was rapidly cooling off. Straining her hearing to find anything, a heartbeat, breathing only to yeild  nothing.

How dare they. How dare these things come in here and kill all she had left of her pack?!

“SCREEE-AAEEEEEEE!”

For the first time in a long time she spoke. She could hear louder static come of the intruders’ mouths, but she didn’t care. No. She just wanted them gone. For good this time. She rushed out at them, easily out-striding their smaller forms and cutting off their exits.

“REEEAAEEEE”

She lunged forward and snapped her jaws around an arm of one of the slower ones, lifting them up into the air by it. Sounds of pain greeted her, and she began to swing it around by its limb till she heard cracks and rips. The things fell to the ground with a thud, its limb having detached in her mouth. The flesh  bled on her tongue, coating a sweet taste she had never experienced before. So she swallowed.

Food.

She charged back towards the damaged intruder and gripped them by their middle this time, biting down with a series of sickening cracks. A garbled static screech fell on deaf ears as she threw her head back and let the body slide into her mouth. She bit down, crushing the body into pulp and bones before swallowing once more.

The intruders scattered. Driven by unknown rage and hunger she attacked the rest. One of them fell behind her and loud cracking noises sound out as she felt small impacts on her scales. They stung, but did not break the the skin. She swung her tail around and slammed down on the creature, feeling its body give way under her mass. It did not move again. The intruders fought back, to the best of their abilities. Not that did did much to get pass her scales.

Slashing her claws out at another who had been attempting to stab though her leg sent blood flying, its coppery scent filling her nose. They fell with a wet splat, spasming on the ground. Not quite dead yet. But she moved on to the others. One charged in front of her, trying to use her divided attention to go for her throat. She snapped her teeth down on the upper half, severing he thing in two.

The other three of them had tried to flee, while she was eating the piece in her mouth. But only two of them made it out, one of them suddenly fell to their knees  gurgling, clutching at what was likely their throat. She could hear the things heart stutter, and its breathing harshen and slow. Then it stopped, and the body slumped to the ground. It had died from her poison. She was unsure if the other two would survive from the poison but it didn’t matter.

They were gone, and if they did die she could consume their bodies later. But for now she had plenty of food to consume. She snapped up the bodies one by one, chewing and ripping off chunks. Eagerly devouring a decent meal she had not had in a long time. There was a body unlike the intruders lying on the ground. She did not know what it was. But didn’t touch. She was full, and the smell it let off told it would not taste good.

More intruders came down into these tunnels, some seeking a territory of their own. Others to challenge her and to end her life. She treated all of the the same. They were no threat to her, and provided her with plenty of sustenance. She found that she’d cough up something from her digested meals, that would grow some kind of plant from them. It was there that something else came. But not intruders. They were immune to her poison for one, and had no interest in fighting her. No these things were smart enough to leave her alone, and seemed only interested in what grew from her regurgitation. So they were ignored.

She found herself at times having to wait long periods for food to come from above. She couldn’t venture to the surface herself, it was too bright, and the exits too small. But they still came regardless. As though the danger that faced up there was worse than her. Foolish choices on their parts, but prey usually was. They either learned from the mistakes of other prey, or died like their kin. 

This was her territory, and anything that dared come down here to take it or her life would meet their end.

_________________________

I tried. I wanted to write something where you could just watch as Mayday lost herself more and more to the infection until she was gone. And nothing but the infection remained. I thought it was fitting that the last person she forgot was Zuke, and since wisteriarotting said Ellie’s death is what tipped her over the edge, I made sure to include that.

I tried to establish that as her eyesight and mind faded, she couldn’t recognize humans anymore, and forgot she was one once

For those wondering about some details:

She’s like a combination of a alligator and a snake. Her head is like an alligator's, but narrower, and her jaw is huge and opens wide, like how a snake jaws will unhinge. Her teeth are sharp and there are a lot of them. She has no hair anymore and has long spines on her head, with shorter ones down her neck and back.

Her body is long like a snakes, and has  proportional thickness of an anaconda. Her limbs give her quite the height boost, but can twist under her so she can squeeze through the sewer tunnels with ease. Her feet a re like a komodo dragons and her claws are long. She is covered in dark orangish red scales that have her blend in well to the darkness and they are really tough.

He guitar picks fused with her legs and arms, making sharp scale like appendages that stick out and offer more protection. The guitar strings are fused into her throat and vocal chords and move every time she breaths or cries out. 

(Check out wisteriarotting, who linked a video to what sounds may would make,)

Her detachable piece has  embedded into her chest and the muscle and sinew from her body and heart have grown over it.

I though id add the poison and other creatures for fun. The creatures are animal like too, but more human than may and are not affected by the poison. Like for example one looks like a deer fusion. It has antlers growing out of its head and one of its eye sockets. And deer legs and arms, with a misshapen mouth.

These ones only eat the vegetation that grows from the mass that may coughs up. Both have poor eyesight and rely on smell and hearing to find their way around, though may also has sight like a pit viper and can pick up heat signatures.

The mutated don’t really give those off, since once the infection takes over they’re just basically walking corpses. as for why people keep going down there? they’re desperate for any kind of escape, and don’t believe that the rumors of her are as bad as people make it out to be. This always leads to an unfortunate end.

And the reason I added those creatures? Mayday is basically on the same tier as the NSR artists, and i’d imagine they had to fight a lot of minor infected on their way to the artists. So i thought it would be fitting.

as for the recordings? Well this is from a alternate path where Zuke has to return to the city to keep the infection from spreading,

So why not let him find some recordings of Mayday’s descent into her death? Before you know, having to fight her and see what she has become.

[kyogre-blue]

Insanely long, sorry to any fool caught up in it. 

List of Inazuma lore to look into later, since there’s so much new stuff and I can’t keep track. 

Viewpoints: 

Ritou: “Legend has it that hundreds of years ago, Lord Hiiragi Hiroshi of the Kanjou Commission miraculously built a prosperous trade center from a deserted island.” 

(This dude came up elsewhere too.) 

Tenryou, Inazuma City: “Under the eternal and silent gaze of Her Highness the Ogosho Shogun, the people living in the hustle and bustle of the city will finally be free from the worries of obsession, and move to a paradise where they no longer need to chase and compete for their aspirations.” 

(This Ogosho title is interesting. Also, note the “eternity”/euthymia goal that Yoimiya touched upon in her chapter 1.) 

Tatara Islands, Kannazuka: “The magnificent Blast Furnace here is used to produce a steady stream of high-quality Jade Steel for Inazuma. Recently, however, due to the war, the Mikage Furnace that drove the production has been damaged.”

Kujou Encampment: “Legend has it that during a disaster hundreds of years ago, Shigeyori Kujou, a mortal general whom Her Highness valued greatly, built a battlefront fortress in one night and fought valiantly against the forces of darkness.” 

(Another event from the Cataclysm.) 

Nazuchi Beach: “In the ancient language of the Inazuma ancestors, "Nazuchi" means "to be tenderly caressed by the hands of the gods." Ironically, Nazuchi Beach has been ravaged by war since a thousand years ago and has become a place for scavengers and pirates, with few inhabitants.” 

(“Ancient language of Inazuma” huh. This war from thousands of years ago... should bet the Archon Wars, I guess? Or it might be Abyss-related.) 

Yashiori Island, Musoujin Gorge: “According to the legend, the strike that brought and end to the serpent god was slashed right here. In this deep canyon that runs through Yashiori Island, the remnant reverberations of lightning bolts continue to this day, as if the thunder elves are still chattering about the legendary scene that tore through the sky and the earth thousands of years ago.”

(Hang on!! This serpent was killed thousands of years ago?! So then Ba’al wasn’t the one who did it? Or else, is she much older than her reign as Archon?) 

Serpent’s Head: “According to the legend, the giant serpent that once ventured into the deep sea was finally slain on Yashiori Island.”

(Interesting note about the deep sea. When hyping up a kaijuu’s credentials, you’d normally say they came from the deep sea, so this point about the serpent going there should be implying something about the... corruption and old gods lurking there?) 

Most notable part is the serpent killing, island splitting timeline. Is it really like that, or am I misunderstanding? 

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

Artifact sets: 

Shimenawa's Reminiscence

Belonged to a human shrine maiden named Kanade, who trained under the Kitsune Saiguu. 

Confirming that Lady Saiguu was a “mighty kitsune.” At the very least, she was not entirely human, perhaps not human at all. 

She had a tobacco pipe that she sometimes knocked people on the head with. 

“Everything in the world is entangled. Hence, illusory visions were born out of concrete reality. The so-called omamori cannot make one's wishes come true at all, but they can make them eternal through this entanglement." (vis a vis eternity and also her memories leaving such a deep impression on the land that Kazari was born.) 

Regarding people affected by Lady Saiguu’s passing: “The Great Tengu went into self-imposed exile, enraged at her own incompetence as the Lady Saiguu's protector, leaving Teruyo behind. Harunosuke left for another country amid the fury of his mourning, while Nagamasa joined the Shogunate to clear the Mikoshi name. As for the man who taught me archery in the sacred forest and patiently listened to my naÏve promise under the scarlet sakura boughs, he will eventually return to me, even if he were to be blinded by splattered blood, or turned into a fierce beast by that dark defilement...” 

Regarding the time while Kanade was at the shrine: During this time, even someone as inhuman as the mighty Yougou Tengu has gotten a daughter. Even that leatherhead Konbumaru has also become one of the Shogun's own Hatamoto, and shall soon marry the daughter of a high-ranking samurai. "Such a lovely kid. Even the great Yougou Tengu, who used to kill all day for fun, had the mother inside her brought out... just a little."

(Based on a later comment, Konbumaru had some kind romantic thing with Kanade?) 

About memories: "No... it means that the person you're missing will be lucky enough to become a part of your memories forever." That's why you have to be strong and must live on for a long, long time. Even if all the people you cherish are gone, as long as you are still alive, The time you spent with them will never perish...

About losing memories, per Lady Saiguu: "Life is full of uncertainty. Love is fleeting, and even lasting memories may be lost. Losing one's memory is no different from losing one's life. It is like death amidst darkness eternal."

Emblem of Severed Fate

About the last member of the Mikoshi oni clan, who became “Douin” Iwakura Doukei. 

"Mother had bared her fangs against the Shogun, who had been kind to her and who had given her a treasured sword. In the end, the only thing that was sent back to the Mikoshi Clan was the tsuba of that blade which she had loved so dearly.

“She would make such contributions as to make an eternal name for the ever-thinning blood of the war-oni. If she was engulfed by the pitch-black tiger-beast of sin itself, then she would tear it apart from the inside.“

“But it was stained black in the end, together with her fiercely beating heart...“

The eldest son (a mortal with oni-blood) met a Yougou Tengu girl, who gave him a new family name, Iwakura. 

Her name was Teruyo. His name was Doukei. 

"Thinking back, I changed your name in hopes that you might escape from the curse of the oni bloodline. With that war, non-human blood grows thinner and thinner. Ah well. We should not covet the happy endings that humans enjoy, after all. But you're different. You are now 'Iwakura.' You are no longer the 'Mikoshi' who shoulders the burden of oni blood."

“In the distant past, when Seirai Island had yet to be shrouded by storm clouds, memories would rise and fall like breaths. In the end, the elegant container that contained thunderstorms and tremors could not be handed over to the one to whom it was promised.”

(What’s this??) 

Doukei once repaired a “seal cage” (an inro, a kind of rigid pouch that hangs from the belt) for a Hatamoto. 

This Hatamoto was skilled with a sword but also learned archery from a Tengu. He was a gambler and also had a “sweet wife.” He was also a gambler. He had “terrifying nightmares, in which he cut off his own head...” 

“With his secret sword technique, Tengu Sweeper, Iwakura Doukei became the Kujou Clan's swordsmanship instructor. He also received the title of "Douin" and founded a successful sword school.” (He is then referred to as “Sir Douin.”)

He was contemporaries with the young Kanjou head, Hiiragi Hiroshi. 

"With your sword, even Ako Domeki of Seirai would be no match..."

(More people for the 500 years ago gang.) 

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

Weapon materials:

Coral Branch 

Watatsumi Island is the furthest from Narukami Island in the Inazuman island chain, and its name means "the god of the oceans" in the island's ancient tongue. Legend has it that when the great serpent first arose within the abyssal nation of ever-night, its fluorescent body was covered in myriad-colored coral.

This coral cannot be found anywhere in Teyvat, but was a gift that the great serpent obtained when it broke into the Dark Sea. 

Fleeing into the Dark Sea, the god that had lost everything met the abandoned people who had nothing within the ocean depths. Thus it elected to remain and become their "Orobashi no Mikoto," their "Watatsumi Omikami."

It is said that the great snake god once broke off all the coral branches on its body to give light to the children who were curled up in the darkness. They also say that it used these coral branches to create a huge ladder to allow those children to once again reach the surface and see the light of day.

And it was also because the serpent god now had people who worshiped it that it stayed in the world it should have long fled, breaking off the coral branches that adorned its body, treading upon land where it should not have, and facing a foe it could never hope to match — till at last, its divine form was sundered along with the mountains, its ichor turned into plasma, and its will and power became a curse that could never be extinguished: Tatarigami.

Lots of interesting points coming together here. The Tatarigami was previously the deity of Watatsumi “Orobashi no Mikoto.” Probably, the old tensions between Narukami and Sangonomiya that Ayaka mentioned are because the Electro Archon (based on Narukami) killed the Tatarigami. 

The Watatsumi gained power from the “Dark Sea” (probably the Abyss, or connected to it), but it willingly gave away that power for the sake of “abandoned people” in the ocean’s depths. This is probably Kokomi’s ancestors. 

Narukami tomoe 

Ba’al insights: 

In the past, the ancients would climb the peak now known as Mt. Yougou and bend wood that had been charred by lightning into a hook to offer as an effigy unto the thundering force that lit up the skies and shook the earth. This shape would eventually become the "Electro Mitsudomoe" symbol, symbolizing the favor, wisdom, and might of Electro, and also the people who represent these values.

In the monster-filled tales of the ancient past, those who were deeply trusted by the Shogun would bear talismans with this hooked design on their person, and just as the word "commission" means to "joyfully serve" in the old tongue, those who received her favor would return it with love and loyalty. Yet, after a certain point in time, nothing would be as it was before.

All demons who wander in the wilderness or live amongst mortals will be attracted by the sight of the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, represented by the Electro Mitsudomoe. Though their lives may be longer than any creature, they will at last come to their end. If those with limited lifespans hanker after eternity, then they can only pray that "Eternity" remembers them. And she did indeed answer their prayers, remembering them all, friend and foe alike, in her heart. No matter whether it was the demon owls who resided amidst the fog and ripped through the skies, the bake-danuki who dared to trespass her imperial gardens, or that female oni, lovely as the moon and mighty in battle, yet who would eventually come to blows with her... Whether it was the tengu who soared on dark wings or the Kitsune Saiguu who once walked by her side, but who eventually disappeared forever... These countless tales have come to rest within her heart, and someday, they will surely shine again in the eternal paradise of her dreams.

The treasure of the lord of thunder is her majesty, and that majesty is embodied in her valor and wrath. Her wrath comes from the love that persists in her heart, and her valor supports that anger. Thus, whomsoever should block the path towards eternity or lay a finger on Inazuma's people shall become her foe. They say that there were four great spirits, three divine foxes, and two great swords — but that the symbol of Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, could only be a single strike, unsurpassed and brilliant as a meteor.

Oni mask

Holy shit, the rarest mask had like five paragraphs of lore alone. 

There was an oni named Torachiyo, who would eventually betray the Shogun and revolt, becoming shorn of an arm and a horn in the battle before fleeing and slaying itself in a fit of furious madness. He once shattered the Shogun’s naginata with a single bite.

The oni nursemaids tell is differently: "He was once a beloved lieutenant of the Shogun, and he followed her into the dark abyssal realms to repel the defiled ones, winning renown for the oni, whose blood thinned with each passing day.”

“Chiyo, a warrior of the oni tribe with the Electro Mitsudomoe emblem emblazoned on her back, was once swallowed whole by a beast from beyond this world that had a tiger's body and a serpent's tail while holding back the forces of darkness. At last, she tore the creature's innards apart from within, breaking free.”

OG Torachiyo was actually female: “This is the origin of the phrase "Chiyo the Tiger-Bite," and would be changed over many years to "Torachiyo."”

“But within the belly of the beast, she was stained by a deep sin and saw her comrades ripped to shreds by those blood-red teeth. Steeped in darkness as far as the eye could see, she would eventually draw her sword upon the Almighty Narukami Ogosho.” 

So this is Iwakura Doukei’s mother. She lost her sanity due to corruption from the Abyss. 

“Or perhaps she even met the oni-masked, sword-bearing doll near the corpse of the giant serpent, and there ended her life's journey.” (It’s Maguu Kenki! It’s older than 500 years.) 

“Few among those who fought against the abyss in those days were spared pitch-dark dreams. Those who slew monsters and then became them were hardly the minority. The border between worlds grows fragile, and corruption of this kind is perhaps not merely monodirectional.” 

---------

Weapons: 

Mistsplitter Reforged

"Arataki of the Front Gate, Iwakura the Successor, Kitain the Serpent, Takamine the Mistsplitter." 

Takamine was the user of this sword. 

He also learned archery from the Yougou Tengu, and passed that knowledge on to a person he loved. At the end of his life, he assumed the position of one of the Shogun's yoriki and fought against a dark army.

"Asase, our promise... No, say rather our great bet. I will not lose it, not for the world!"

The sword broke into a thousand pieces as he fought this battle. 

The yet unreleased bow Thundering Pulse also belonged to this guy. It confirms that Konbumaru is also his name. He was taken as a servant of the Tengu after a bet and learned archery from them then. 

This means he is the guy Iwakura Doukei mentions in the Emblem artifact set. This would also make him Kanade’s love interest. I suppose Asase would be her family name. 

(Also, Thundering Pulse’s last lines are brutal. Mistsplitter mentions how he clung to the wager to return, clutching at his broken sword’s hilt... “The lone returnee who came stumbling back from the abyss finally met the shrine maiden again, though by now she could no longer be called young. Dull eyes stained with dried blood and tears regained their radiance, but were pierced through by a barbed arrow glowing with power.” Bullshit!!! You can’t do this to me!) 

[shebeafancyflapjack]

King Takes Knight

A quick Michael whump drabble mini-fic, written for catharsis sake. I’ve had a rough week.

TW: Captivity, torture, impaling.

His wrists are bound together behind his back, chains clamping tight around his skin, looped to a stake on the stage. He’s constantly hanging forward, feet impaled into the wood by rusty nails. The laughter had rippled around him when those had been hammered in, slow as fork, half a minute between each pound to give Michael a chance to appreciate the pain. Enough time for everyone to enjoy his groans.

At first he’d done his best not to give them the satisfaction. Demons fed off the sounds of misery. No, seriously, it’s like a vampire feeding off blood. It’s like their own crack cocaine. Michael had grown tired of the ‘kick’ many centuries ago. Why him? Why none of the others? Oh, right, of course. That’s the whole reason he’s here. It’s why he’s now the main, impromptu, attraction at this DemonCon.

He’s a freak.

That was always a fact, as much as he had tried to hide from it. Demons don’t collect human objects for a hobby unless its teeth or kidneys. Demons don’t binge watch human TV shows to help them fantasise about what it would be like to live the way they do, up above on Earth in the fresh air, with dating and parties and their own laugh track. Demons don’t get tired of what they were designed for; torture, maiming, eviscerating. For so long he told himself, It’s just a phase, a hyperfix, it will be pass, I just need something new....

The psychological experiment had worked. Until it hadn’t.

Now here he was. Still a freak, to them, more so than ever. He has no intention of running from it anymore. Not that he’ll be able to run or walk for a while now.

Sometimes they loosen the chain and one of them will yank it, making him crawl. Typically after they’ve smashed a broken bottle on the floor, open palms falling onto the scattered shards, trousers tearing at the knee as they cut in deep.

He’d barely felt anything the first time he’d noticed the crimson pooling beneath him. He had already worked out that they’d done something to heighten the pain receptors in his skin suit. But how could he have blood?

“Just an illusion, you tuft of pubic hair.” Shawn had snarled at him, disgusted at the curios look on his prisoner’s face; “You don’t get to have blue goo like a true demon. You’re an abomination. A holy spawn of Nothing.”

He’d have tried to give a snappy comeback, had they not threaded a steel wire through his lips. Michael almost took it with pride; as if Shawn was afraid to hear him talk after he’d given his speech before. Clearly it had him worried that he was losing control, that there may have been demons listening who agreed with him, who were believed it was time to change. Maybe Michael wasn’t the only freak. A small, foolish part of him held out hope it would be one of them who would try to free him.

Nothing yet. Maybe all his words fell on deaf, wicked ears. Maybe they had considered it, for a moment, before distracted by the new attraction of a Michael piñata to play with.

The remainders of his suit stick to burned, bruised and bloodied skin. His jacket is gone, one of the Trolls borrowed his bow-tie to use as a handkerchief so he doesn’t expect to see that again given their snot is acidic. He knows they’re working their way up to the penis flattener. Just his luck, he was just starting to get used to the weird hanging bits, even having the odd fantasy of how he might be able to use them...and now it seems the first bit of action they’re going to get is being slammed with a mallet. If given a choice, he might prefer to try the butthole spiders.

His vision fades in and out after taking several punches to the head from one of the Rock Giants. He’s sure his eye nearly popped out of its socket and his jaw is broken, barely held together by the metal in his lips. They all chant their names at him. Not just freak. Traitor. Weakling. Disgrace. Failure. Hopeless. Loser.

They want tears. They want him to break.

But he’s never felt more strong in his life...at least, for now.

He closes his eyes, swaying in his bonds, head rolling as the pain thumps through his skull. He can still hear Janet screaming his name. Her magnet-bound hands reaching out for him. Jason’s hands on her arms, his distraught face looking past his not-a-girlfriend as Michael shoved the handcart away as soon as the guards caught up with them.

“GO! NOW! DON’T COME BACK! DON’T RESET! JUST GET OUT!”

It was one of them or all of them. It had to be him.

This was all his fault, after all. Janet had been taken because he’d been foolish enough to underestimate his former colleagues. They’d failed to notice the imposter among them because Michael was too busy keeping all his anxieties over his own potential double to himself. Had he just told Eleanor and the others the truth about Shawn’s call from before the experiment, the reason for his ‘breakdown’ from the start, they might have known something was up. They might have known better than to let Janet get on that train alone. 

He might not have let everyone down.

Her hand grabs his wrist as they leave Mindy’s. He says nothing as Tahani and Jason continue to walk on ahead.

He turns around.

“Listen...about last night.” Eleanor looks up at him, taking a deep breath. He can see that she’s slept very little between the few hours they took to rest up and prepare for this journey, “The whole....trust issue dealy. I just wanted to say-.”

“It’s okay.” He raises his hand; “You don’t have to apologise.”

She blinks at him.

“Uhmm...Good, because I wasn’t gonna.”

Michael’s mouth forms a silent ‘Oh’. Why had he been expecting that? 

“I meant what I said, dude. I don’t know if I can ever trust you.” She tells him, straight; “I believe that you’re Michael and not Vicky, you proved that much. But, like I told Tahani, even if it is you, I don’t fully trust you. You know why right?”

He swallows, looking down at his shoes; “The lying...I know.”

He doesn’t try to excuse himself anymore. It was bad. That’s all there is.

“Not just the lying but the lying about the lying!” She berates him; “It has to stop! And don’t get me wrong, the whole offering to sacrifice yourself thing, that’s done you credit. I need you to keep that shirt up. I need to be sure that you understand how important this whole show we got going on is. Whole of humanity is riding on us beating Shawn and those goons. It’s more important for us to win this than worrying about just any one of us. Got it?”

He nods. Of course he’s got it. Does she still consider him a liability? Would she have preferred it if Jason hadn’t interrupted his attempt earlier?

No, he tries to reassure himself. She’s not being mean. She’s being a leader.

And she’s right.

“Got it, Boss.” He tells her, quietly, the shame still burrowing deep in his chest.

She gives him a small smile and bumps his arm with her first; “There! Glad we got that settled. Look, I just want my partner in running-fake-Heaven back at my side is all. Not hiding things from me or putting me through crab like you did last night.”

“I understand. I’m sorry.” Was he unreasonable to hope for an apology back?

He’ll never understand what it means to be human, he realises sadly.

“Apology accepted. Now go bring back our favorite not-a-robot or I’ll be demoting you to my personal shrimp-serving butler.” She teases with a twinkle in her eye as they continue their walk to the train station.

Michael laughs to himself, spluttering droplets of blood from his encased tongue, as her words ring in his ears. He hopes they win. He hopes he gets to see his friends one last time before they go to the Good Place, the real one, and he’s sent to...wherever. Hopefully somewhere nicer than here.

The more time passes, the more he’s beaten and scalded and whipped, the more he knows Janet has obeyed his request. They haven’t gone to the Judge. They’re carrying on the experiment, best as they can, with Chidi as their best chance to succeed as one of the subjects. He hears Shawn muttering one time about the train tunnel having mysteriously caved in.

Well done, Janet, old friend. Or was it Jason with his last molotov?

He knows they can do it without him. He believes in nothing else in this world except his incredible friends and their ability to save the forking world. 

They don’t need him...They have each other. And Eleanor.

His girl from Arizona. The only one who can take charge of this. The one who knows what is at stake and what needs to be done. There’s an odd tightness in his chest, which may be from where his fake ribs were crushed earlier, but may be something else. He can’t deny it...He misses being at her side, he misses watching her take charge, of being on her ‘team’, her...partner. Fork it, he doesn’t want to be sad about it. He doesn’t want to...

It’s his own fault that’s over. You ruined everything, y’know that?

“You’re thinking of her, aren’t you? Your favorite yellow cockroach.” Shawn whispers, appearing as a blur in the corner of his distorted eyesight; “Funny how they haven’t come for you. You and that idiot came for your Good Janet. But their own pet demon? So much for human friendship, huh.”

He closes his eyes tight. He doesn’t...want them to come.

His hair is grabbed, head pulled back, a small block of freezing ice pressed against his stomach. He moans into the wires. His natural fire-element essence is violently reacting to the cold. It’s worse than a thousand volts of electricity. 

“They left you, Mikey. They abandoned you to us.”

N-no...He chose to stay....He made them g-g-go...

“And don’t get me wrong, the whole offering to sacrifice yourself thing, that’s done you credit. I need you to keep that shirt up...”

And he did.

“It’s more important for us to win this than having to worry about just any one of us. Got it?”

Got it.

That’s why they haven’t come. They can’t throw away the progress they’ve made just to save him. They need to see it through till the end now. That’s all it is. Eleanor understands, he’s sure of it...It’s not because they don’t care...

The chill seeps into him. He feels parts of his goo crystalize sharply.

“I don’t think I can ever trust you.”

“Why don’t we just lock you up in Janet’s void?”

“Get out of here. You don’t get to be part of this.”

As the agony shoots through him, he blinks and he sees her. Staring at him. Uncertain, afraid, but silent. Complicit in his fate, if it’s for the greater good. No longer hers to worry about. No longer a distraction from what’s truly important - would she react the same if it was Chi-? No, stop it! Don’t! 

Shawn moves away with the ice block and Michael sags against the stake.

“Ahh...Would you look at that.”

A finger reaches out to graze Michael’s cheek, picking off a tiny frozen droplet on his cheek. Fork. How long had he been crying? He didn’t want to give them that satisfaction!

Shawn puts it between his lips and smiles; “Mmmm, not bad. Not as salty as human tears. Let’s see if I can get you to fill my glass.”

Michael glares at him now, shaking roughly. Shame quickly simmers into a flash of rage before his old boss slams the ice block against him again. He screams.

Fork, fork, fork. This has to be worth it.

If it’s the only way he can prove, without a doubt, he’s on their side...That he wants nothing but to be worthy to be her ‘partner’ again...To be wanted...Forgiven?

Win, you guys. If he can ask for nothing else, do this for him. Please, damn it...Win.

[memoriesofkpop]

These Words For You

These Words For You

Based on the song Second Life by Seventeen Written in 2nd POV Jeonghan x female reader Joshua x female reader Genre: Angst

=============================================

          “With this ring, I promise you companionship. I promise you a life together. I promise to stand by you, not ahead nor behind. I promise to love you endlessly with all my heart. If we are given a second life, I am sure we will end up together. Even if I live and breathe differently than I do now. I will find you again. I will love you again. I may not be able to give you the world you deserve, but I will give you my universe,” Jeonghan stated with a smile, eyes brimming with tears as he slid the ring onto your finger. His sincere words and bright eyes were more than enough to convince you that this was the best day of your life.

        “You may kiss the bride,” said the officiant, beaming along side the guests that filled the room. 

        His soft lips gently pressed onto yours as butterflies erupted in your stomach. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, causing him to reciprocate the action and even let out a soft chuckle. 

        You were happy. 

...Or at least you were at that moment.

---

        The sound of fragile porcelain smashing into the hard tile floors echoed throughout the building. You wouldn’t dare call this place a home. His voice rose in volume as words continued to pour out of his mouth. At this point, his words were nothing more than muffled sounds that simply reached your ears. Regardless of the lack of meaning to you, it made your blood boil with rage. Before you knew it, you were yelling back, trying to get him to listen to you despite you yourself refusing to listen to him. 

        Another plate carefully adorned with a floral design came crashing onto the floor. This time, at the hands of his-- your supposed one and only love. 

        “Why the hell are you breaking the dishes?!” you screamed at him, pointing at the small white pieces that littered the floor. 

        “Oh like I was the one who started it?!” he yelled back. 

        “Of course you started it! Who else could have? A ghost?!”

        “Might as well have been! You never admit to your mistakes!” 

        “I can’t believe you! You-”

        “You know what?! That’s it. I’m done with all of this!” he cut in, pushing the rest of the dishes off the table and he stormed out of the room, pushing past you as well as slamming the door as he went. 

        “Jeonghan! What the actual fu-” you yelled only to be cut off by another slam of the door. This time, the front door. 

        Not only anger filled you, but a hint of sadness and frustration as well. Staring at the broken pieces of glass and porcelain on the floor, you couldn’t help but break down into tears. You crouched by the fragments with your head buried in your arms, hoping for the world to just disappear as you felt your marriage falling apart. 

        Minutes passed before you were able to regain control of your breathing. You were desperate to calm yourself through your sobs. Standing up, you walked straight to your shared bedroom. You pulled out a suitcase from the closet and began gathering your belongings-- moving quickly as your vision blurred again. As you shoved another shirt into the large case, your hands stopped. The light had caught the diamond in your engagement right just right, causing your eyes to go straight to the pair of rings on your left hand. Your beloved engagement ring and your wedding band. You yanked them both off as if they were burning your skin and walked over to the nightstand. Slamming the rings onto the marble surface, you glared at the photo of you and him. The picture seemingly mocking you with bright smiles plastered on both faces. You push the frame down so that the photograph can no longer be seen before walking back to the suitcase and continuing to fill it up swiftly. 10:04 pm.

        You couldn’t help but scoff at the time. 

---

        “Isn’t it ridiculous?! And then she had the NERVE to accuse me of starting the whole argument in the first place!” Jeonghan complained, dramatically waving his arms in the air. Joshua sat there listening to his friend with a concerned look on his face. He’s heard it all. From the beginning of their love story until the latest argument. Jeonghan continued rambling like he always does when suddenly Joshua let out a deep sigh. Surprised at the response, Jeonghan seized talking, resulting in just staring at the younger. It was only then that Joshua realized he had been spacing out and not really listening.

        “Ah.. sorry,” he sheepishly apologized. This was unlike him; he’s always been a great listener. But when it came to you, someone he always felt comfortable and very close with, his thoughts went into overdrive. If he was honest, right when he met you just a few months before you and Jeonghan began dating, he thought that the two of you would be the ones who ended up together. Instead, he preferred living this lie. Just at this moment, Shua’s phone lit up with a small buzz. 

        “Hey... is the passcode to your apartment still the same?” 

        Without any hesitation, he swiped open the text and replied with a “yep!”

        “Sorry about that. What were you saying?” He asked Jeonghan, redirecting all of his attention back to one of his closest friends. 

        “Who was that?” Jeonghan questioned. 

        “Don’t mind that,” he replied, expecting the elder to ignore it and continue with his rant as usual. What he didn’t expect was for Jeonghan to grab the phone from him and scroll through his messages with you. Instant panic shot through Joshua as he automatically reached for the phone to take it back. However, Jeonghan was faster at pulling it away from his grasp. 

        “Who’s ‘Little Carrot’?” Jeonghan asked, continuing to scroll through the most recent messages just as Joshua successfully regained ownership of his phone. 

        “No one,” he calmly lied, thanking God that you two basically constantly spoke in code. 

        “Didn’t seem like no one to me,” Jeonghan said, nudging him a bit. Shua only shook his head before standing up. He had seen the word “guitar” and knew despite already hearing about the argument from Jeonghan, something had gone horribly wrong this time-- something different.

        “I’ve actually got to go now. Sorry about this. I hope you two work it out! Don’t give up on her!” Joshua said as he made his way past Jeonghan and out the door of one of the many studio rooms. 

        “Wait-” Jeonghan started but Joshua had already began walking faster since the very first step out of the room. 

        He didn’t know why, but his feet always traveled just a little bit faster towards you, and his heart beat just a little bit faster, than to anyone else. 

        His actions seemed automated as he made his way home, wasting no time. Right when he swung open the door, his eyes locked onto you. You had picked up one of his guitars and been messing around on it for a bit, remembering the times when you were able to actually play. 

        Glancing up from the strings, your eyes met with his.

        “Hey…” was all you could manage. 

        “Hi. Were you just playing Sunday Morning?” he asked, closing the door gently behind him and making his way to the couch you were at, picking up another guitar before sitting down. 

        “Yeah. I still never finished learning it actually. Jeonghan always said it was too noisy and rough sounding when I would try to learn,” you replied softly, fingers falling from the neck of the instrument at the memory. 

        “Nonsense. Guitars always sound great in the hands of great players,” he replied in an attempt to comfort, beginning to pluck at the strings, encouraging you to do the same. You smiled at him, feeling a bit more confident. Or maybe it was the way he made you feel wanted. 

        His fingers effortlessly played the notes, pausing from time to time to help you with the chords you struggled to strum. 

        Hours had passed in what felt like minutes. Before you knew it, the simplistic clock on the left wall showed that it was a quarter past three am. Time just flew by when he was with you, and despite believing you two would have been perfect together, you preferred living this lie. The life where he was simply one of your best friends-- someone you can count on but will not break your heart when he did anything disappointing to you. 

        “Are you tired?” asked Shua, now resting both his arms and head on top of the guitar in his lap, looking in your direction. You chuckled a bit. 

        “Tired mentally? Yes. Physically? I don’t even know anymore,” you confessed, arms and head resting on the guitar in your lap as well, facing the boy. “Thanks for cheering me up, by the way”. His breath got caught in his throat for a split second as he saw his own face in your two eyes. It was as if the world had stopped and all he wanted to do was hug you and hold you tight. As quick as the thought arrived, the moment was gone as he forced himself to refocus on reality.

        “Anytime. And you’re more than welcome to stay here if you need a place,” he replied.

        “Was it the giant suitcase that gave it away?” you said with a slight smile. He only laughed softly in reply. His hand reached out to brush a stray hair out of your face and tucked it gently behind your ear. “..Thanks.”

        “Not a problem.”

        “..I mean thanks for everything. Always being here for me, you know?”

        “What are friends for?”

        You couldn’t help but smile back at his sweet smiling face. 

        “Friends forever?” you asked him.

        “Till death do us part,” he stated.

        Satisfied with his answer, you sat up and gently placed the guitar back into its nearby stand, suddenly feeling more tired than before but was willing to fight the heavy feeling. You turned your body to face him and pulled your legs up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around them to keep your legs in place. Letting your head rest against the couch, you watched Shua place down his guitar as well. 

        “I’ll go grab some snacks, yeah?” he suggested. You simply nodded and followed him with your eyes as he got up from the couch and disappeared into a room. It was just for a moment, but you let your heavy eyelids flutter close as you waited for him to return. 

---

        Knowing you would be in a deep sleep by the time he got back, Joshua went to his bedroom and grabbed a rose quartz and serenity blue quilted blanket-- one of your favorites. He gently placed it on your sleeping figure and sat down on the other couch. He sighed as he watched your steady breathing, suddenly strangely aware that he was breathing at the same rate for some reason. He knew you like the back of his hand to the point where words were no longer necessary to communicate between you two. The gaze you shared was simply enough. Your name fell from his lips in a light whisper without him conscious effort until he heard his own voice. That was the moment reality truly hit him. He recalled that you would never be his and he would never be yours-- not really . 

        “If I’m given a second life, one where I live and breathe differently compared to now, I’m going to be the one by your side. And on days where I’m suddenly alone, I’ll find my way to you...wherever you may be…” he said in a soft voice with his head down, not daring to look at you. With that said, he stood back up and turned off the lights that illuminated your face. With a final glance, he walked out of room, knowing that he could never promise you a life together nor promise to solely stand by you. He could not give you the world nor give you the universe he so desperately wanted to give. What he could promise was to love you endlessly with all his heart.

        Joshua made his way back to his room and walked straight to the closet. Moving aside some jackets, he opened a small hidden vault. Inside was nothing more than a small wooden box that held just two items. A ring and a piece of paper. 

There, sat the ring he had wanted to give to her. To you.

There, sat his whole heart.

There, sat his sole regret in life.

There, sat the reason why he could and cannot ever be truly honest with you.

There, sat a secret only shared between Jeonghan and himself. 

There, sat the original copy of the vows he had written to say to you on what was supposed to be his best day of his life.

A/N: Contains errors

[lazywriter7]

Starkquill Rave - Fic time!

Awhile ago, I’d offered to write one from three Starkquill prompts as a thank you to all the people who’d offered such amazing support to my writing - see post here . 

The people have spoken and the results are in: with no trouble whatsoever, the musical soulmates AU has emerged victorious! A giant Thank You to all the people who voted and reblogged, I love you and I hope you get what you came for ;) The plot ballooned up, hence the lateness - but here’s part one: Prompt:  “soulmate au where no one hears music until they fall in love” HIT READ MORE

1986

 The Chevy’s wheels sizzle on the asphalt, gravel flying off the highway to clatter on its undersides. The windshield is hazy under the glare of the high noon sun. The window panes are half rolled-down, heat streaming into the car under the guise of wind. Poles and railings and the odd warehouse – all flit by in an unending blur, melding into the landscape of the Great American Countryside stretching about him.

Sweat is beginning to collect under his fingertips; he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. It leads to his back losing contact with the sticky leather of the seat, t-shirt parting with his skin to let through a small draught of coolness. The Chevy Camaro IROC-Z probably wasn’t built for a sixteen-year-old driver, though he doubts he’s ever going to grow taller. His legs are over-extended as is, feet half-skimming the gas and brake pedals. He should’ve pulled over and moved the seat up a long time ago, but he hasn’t been able to make himself slow down. The road feels distant, at this speed. Like he’s barely touching the ground, like these straight grey lines are mere guidelines rather than boundaries he can’t cross over.

Something vibrates on the dash – he looks over, sees a flashing screen. In a move that barely registers in his head as careless, he reaches over till his belly skims the bottom of the steering wheel, fingers extending for the scorching chrome-and-plastic of his phone. He hits receive and speaker in quick succession, settles back into the damp groove his weight has created in the seat.

“Tony.”

The word is almost lost as the Chevy speeds under and past a flyover – Tony’s breath leaves his chest slowly. “Hey pumpkin.”

Rhodey’s tone is even, well-controlled. “Where are you? The campus police have been looking for hours–”

“Not on campus.” Tony speaks lightly. The wind is rippling past the hairs on the back of his neck, the ones on his sweat-sodden, taut arms. It’s been two years since they grew in, and they still feel vaguely foreign on his skin.

“…how far?”

“Exact coordinates are a bit of a bust.” He knuckles at the sweat collecting over his upper lip – it’s still faintly tender from the shave earlier this morning. “I’m guessing somewhere in the middle of Bumfuck, Missouri.”

“Missou–” The composure drains out of Rhodey’s voice in a hot second – word sawed off at the end in an effort to bank the panic. “How did you… how?”

“You know, the usual. Bought a plane ticket. And a car.” Tony keeps a hand on the wheel, stretches the other one out the window to be buffeted by the wind. Trails a fingertip ever-so-lightly over the window frame, smoothing over the vermilion-red finish. “The transmission is gorgeous, Rhodes. She handles like a dream.”

The frustration comes through easily over the silence on the line, Rhodey picking and discarding words and trying not too breathe too heavily. Tony waits him out, and sure enough, “You don’t have a license.”

“The showroom owners didn’t seem to mind.” The sky stripping over his head is heat-pale, blue fading away under the encroaching brightness of the sun. “Then again, I left my credit card with them so they probably wouldn’t have minded if I burned the place down.”

Nothing but the white noise of the highway. Tony half-thinks the line has gone dead, the click of the call ending lost somewhere between exits 43 and 44 – it doesn’t even sting that much. His heart kicks up a notch when words come through again, concern softening the syllables. “Media’s flocking the campus. Everyone wants to talk to the youngest ever winner of the 2.007 MIT Robot Design award.”

“How exciting for them.” He doesn’t mean to glance to the left, but the trophy still glints at the corner of his vision – knocked over on its side, cradled in the crease of the front seat. The burnished plaque at the bottom gleams dully: mens et manus. Mind and hand. There’s a name below the inscribed motto, three words long, that’s mostly been scratched out.

Tony looks straight ahead and drives.

“Your.” He doesn’t have to wonder too long to know what’s at the end of that uncharacteristic stutter. “Your dad gave an interview.”

“That’s good, I’m sure he needs the exposure.” The wheel creaks under his grip; Tony loosens it inch by inch, every motion tight and deliberate. “Next time, I’ll make sure to get a journalist pass before expecting him to come see me.”

An exhale. “Tony–”

“Sorry, gas station up ahead. Gotta fill up, talk to you later.”

The brake moves down sharply under his foot, tires squealing as he swerves violently to the right. He barely makes the turn, phone flying off the dashboard to clatter noisily to the floor.

The car lurches into the driveway, fender scraping past the pole of an unlit neon sign. It trundles through, passing under the broad shadow of the station’s concrete canopy. Rolling to a stop beside a self-serve console, Tony leaves the keys in the ignition and kicks the door open.

The gravel crackles under his soles. The air is hot and still. He flicks his eyes towards the fuel gauge – barely an inch below full.

The air whispers listlessly past his lips, skin dry and beginning to crack. His hands are still shaking.

For the lack of anything better to do, he flicks the radio on. Static, static, static… his fingers catch and turn the dial, degree by degree. And then–

 –leave me be

Taking everything in my stride

Don't need reason, don't need rhyme

Ain't nothing I would rather do

Tony’s lips curve, quick and bittersweet. He pulls his legs back into the car, shifts back till the scalding leather of the headrest presses into his hair. Closes his eyes.

Going down, party time

My friends are gonna be there too

I'm on the highway to hell

 Somewhere under the spectacular guitar riffs, he can hear another car pull into the station. The near-inaudible squeal of the engine coming to a stop, the click of a door swinging open. A few seconds, and then footsteps crunching over gravelly concrete, growing more and more distant.

Tony opens his eyes. Through the windshield, he can glimpse the back of a man (judging by the balding pate) in his sixties, disappearing through the glass doors of the attached convenience store. In idle curiosity, he glances over to the neighbouring console. Typical grey Ford Escort – 1981? 82? Whichever, it’s a boring car either way – bumpers turned dusty and brownish courtesy of the road. Both the front doors are thrown open, the driver’s seat desolate.

A flicker of movement – Tony’s eyes move towards the hood, where something…no wait, someone is blocking the view of the front tire.

Wow, that is one tiny human. Even from this distance, he can see the wide eyes, the slightly agape jaw. One tiny human staring at Tony’s car.

He’s clambering out of the Chevy Camaro before he’s fully aware, gangly limbs unfolding and his knees poking out through ripped denim. The boy – it seems like a boy, what with the crazy tufts of hair and general scruffiness – gazes at him for a while, before those eyes whip back to the car.

 Hey Satan, paid my dues

Playing in a rocking band

Hey mama, look at me

I'm on my way to the promised land

 “Bitchin’ ride, huh?” Tony reflects on the wisdom of using slang in front of an impressionable child, before kicking the thought to the back of his head. “You like it?”

The kid stays mute. Tony comes round the hood of the Chevy – the kid somehow looks even more rundown at this angle. Pale, drawn face, eyebags.

Tony reaches through the other window of his car, till his fingers wrap around the warmed metal of the trophy. Pulls it out and turns around to see the kid nervously gnawing at his lip, chin tilted high.

“I. I’m not supposed to be talking to strangers.” Nervous lip gnawing or not, the boy still meets Tony’s eyes, a pale and bloodshot gaze. His voice is slightly deeper than expected, somehow stripped of the traditional lilting tones of a child.

“I promise this isn’t made of candy.” Fingers uncurling, Tony lets the trophy roll slowly out of his hand – the boy’s eyes widen, before his hands dart to scoop it out of the air in an impressive show of reflexes.

Tony can feel his lips stretch out on either side of his cheeks – it doesn’t feel halfway fake. He pulls the Chevy’s door open on the passenger side, ducks in and shimmies over to the driver’s seat. Over his shoulder, he can still see the boy staring at his – dash? stereo? – pallid fingers loosely clasped around the base of the MIT prize.

Tony wraps steady fingers around the sweat-sticky wheel, chest rising and falling calmly. Starts up the engine, a smooth and pitch-perfect purr. Glances left for the last time, curl of the mouth punctuated by a wink. “Stay rad, kid.”

This time, he turns the Chevy with considerably more grace – wheels skimming on the concrete before dismounting onto highway asphalt. His seat is still too far back, but he doesn’t feel half as strenuously stretched out.

The sky sprawls on ahead. Tony hums.

 And I'm going down

All the way

I'm on the highway to hell.

  ~

  “I don’ get it.”

Peter can feel his nose scrunching, which he smoothens immediately.

Too late. “What don’t you get, bunny?”

He shudders. Yeah, not one of his favourite nicknames. “It doesn’ even – okay, listen, here it comes again–”

He-ell

(He-ell)

What’s the matter with your he-ad

“See?” Peter wants to shake the radio a little, but then it might fall off the sill again and Mom hadn’t liked that. “It doesn’ even rhyme.”

“It doesn’t have to rhyme, sweetie.” Mom plucks at the plastic tube going into her hand, almost like she’s strumming. “One of the gifts of modernism.”

“Whazzat?”

“No clue.” Mom smiles a little fuzzily, letting the tube jerk back into place. It looks almost invisible against her hand. “Your smarty-pants cousin used to say it.”

Peter wants to protest the smarty-pants status of Mara – she calls him a dum-dum, and he doesn’t think that’s a very smart insult at all – but then the chorus starts. It sounds, like all music does, like words awkwardly strung one after the other, missing something called the melody. And Mom says that’s the most important bit.

Come and get your love

Come and get your lo-ove

“But.” And Peter can feel his nostrils flaring up again, even though he’s trying really hard to understand, “Don’ you just…have love? Why’d you have to go get it? Did you leave it somewhere?”

Mom laughs – which Peter loves, even if it makes his chest puff out further in indignation. “You’ll understand when you hear it, honey.”

But I am hearing it. He’s hearing the guy say the words, even if they’re pitched weirdly. But Mom, and the world, says that he can’t Really hear music until he falls in love, and that won’t happen until a few more years ‘at least’.

The hospital bedsheet scrunches under Peter’s fingers, stiff and starchy. The nurses still haven’t opened up the windows, and the air smells dead.

He doesn’t want to wait a few more years. He needs to understand what’s making Mom smile now.

He wants to climb up on the bed, tuck his knees under her sides. But Mom doesn’t look up to it, so he just crosses his arms and tries to keep the whining to a minimum. “What if I don’t fall in love till I’m like… twenty.”

“Then you’ll be wiser than any teenager that ever lived.” Mom smirks like she made a really good joke. Peter resists the urge to sigh, Gramps-style.

“What if I can’t hear music even after I fall in love.”

“That means you’re waiting for your soulmate.” Mom’s teeth click together on the ‘t’, eyes creased like paper. “It’s the best reason of all.”

“Dierdre says,” He pronounces it like dray-dray, because no eight year old needed to have that complicated a name. “That soulmates are shi – stuff that’re made up for people who’re too selfish to love anyone.”

“I think it’s kinda romantic.” Mom says, still all wrinkly-eyed. “Your brain deciding to hold off one of the best experiences of life, just to share it with someone important.”

“What if,” And who cares if he’s mumbling a little, toes wriggling in his shoes, “they’ve already experienced it?”

“Then they’ll still value the moments they share with you, Pete.” Mom’s fingers dance across the bedspread, white on white, a delicate tap-tap. “There’s nothing in the world quite like having a tune in your ear. A chorus kicking into full swing. And looking around you, and realising that everyone around you is feeling the exact same thing.”

“You’ll remember the songs you listen to. The songs you sing.” And then, like magic, her spindle-like fingers find his – scrunched tight against the sheets. Coax them loose, encase them in her hand with a gentleness that comes so easy. “It doesn’t matter, if they’re the first ones or the last. What matters is that you remember, and hold them dear.”

The people or the songs, he wants to ask – but the answer’s there, in the shine of Mom’s eyes.

It doesn’t matter. When it’s the right person, the right song. The answer is one and the same.

 ~

 2012

 Peter’s borne several names through his lifetime.

Some he’s clung to with mulish bloody-mindedness – light of my life. My precious son. My little Starlord. Some he hears with such repetitive frequency that the effect’s gotten somewhat stale. Terran. Criminal. Dick.

And some that he would happily do with never having to hear ever again. Presenting to you: man who has lain with an A'askavariian.

Not that he resents being framed as the James Bond type. O-ho no, he is quite satisfied with tales of his exploits being spread throughout the galaxy. Except when they involve tentacles. And teeth.

Not that Rill isn’t an entirely delightful… entity. But they never anything-ed. At all. Remotely. Shy’la ‘caught’ them together, but he was only ever trying to get some info out of her on the Nova archives. Which is why he resents being summoned here by her in some Rigellian dive bar and have people eye him like… it’s goddamn middle school all over again, the time it’d got out that he pecked Molly Sheridan on the cheek. The same surveying with interest. That Shi’ar by the corner doesn’t even have limbs, for heaven’s sake.

“Pew-ter.”

Oh wonderful.

Peter plasters a smile on his face – more rictus-y than usual, but it’s not like these jackasses are gonna be able to tell – and turns around. There, under the Karona lights by the bar. Should’ve figured.

Rill is occupying three of the bar stools, mandibles long and dangling over her lower lip. Her neon-pink skin positively hurts to look at under the lighting. Her voice is garbled, but infinitely pleased. “Pew-ter.”

Peter manoeuvres between the tables till he’s reached the bar, turning in place to cock a hip against the counter. A pink tentacle goes slithering off the stool next to him, leaving behind a slime trail that smells faintly of lavender.

Rill smiles down at him benevolently – Peter keeps his own grin through a valiant struggle. “Standing is fine, thank you.”

It’s difficult to understand her response through all the chirruping; she either says so polite or hubba hubba. Peter tries not to dwell on it. “So you. Erm. Said you found something of potential interest to me?”

“So I did.” Rill strokes her own temple with a proboscis. “My feeder crafts came across–”

“Whoa, whoa. Shouldn’t we be talking about this in a,” He clears his throat significantly, “ore-may ivate-pray…ocation-lay?”

A'askavariians don’t have eyelids – otherwise he gets the impression there would be a lot of blank blinking going on right now.

“What?” Okay, he’s sounding a bit defensive, sue him if Toby McIntosh only explained the rules of pug latin to him once. “Did I not do it right?”

“I would be better able to inform you,” Rill informs him gravely, mandibles wobbling, “if I knew what you were trying to do.”

Maybe A'askavariians don’t have pugs either. Good for them, Peter doesn’t know why you’d want to talk to those wrinkly-looking bastards anyway.

“We are having a secret deal.” He’s doing the whisper-and-lean now, which is super obvious, but What Can You Do. “Shouldn’t we be doing this in a, yanno. Private location?” He’s feeling a little awkward about explaining ‘them rules’ to a mafia lord, but maybe the other mafia lords never told Rill about them. Sexist jerks.

“Oh no.” Rill chirps back cheerily. “Any spy in this bar would be confirmedly strong-bowelled.”

“Nice.” A pause. “What’s that?”

“We strangle them with our tentacles.” Rill demonstrates with a little wave-y motion. Peter waves back at the tentacle faintly. “And then disembowel them with our teeth.”

“Very nice.” Peter realises he’s been nodding for at least three seconds too long, before stilling his head with a jerk. “So, uh. Matter of interest?”

“As I was saying, my feeder crafts came across a decimated Chew-tari mothership–”

“Chitauri?” Peter usually doesn’t like giving away his cards that quickly, but holy shit. Fuck no. He straightens up immediately, ankle knocking into a barstool leg, “Man are you barking up the wrong tree, I want nothing to do with those lackeys or their boss–”

“–in addition to picking up some strange readings. Scans confirm recently lapsed warp-time behaviour, as well as particles from your corner of the universe.”

“Knowhere?” Peter scoffs quietly, but Rill’s beady eyes are twinkling under the lights and– “You mean Terra.”

Rill gathers her tentacles about herself, almost primly. “Have I got the right tree yet?”

Peter… doesn’t really have the brain space to deal with that question, to be honest. His mind is jittering back and forth in part-surprised, part-panicked strains, “Did they…was there… did they attack Terra?”

“I cannot confirm that.” There’s a part of his head still, that lives in a Joplin two-bedroom flat with a radio on the kitchen sill – a part that flinches at these words. “The ship was unsalvageable. We found only one lifesign for several systems, and it wasn’t Chew-tari.”

Peter’s lips part to speak on reflex, before pressing shut – words stilling in their tracks. It’s an age-old instinct that’s served him well over the years, the little voice of self-preservation that’s saved his hide time and again. You sure that stripper is legit, Pete? That’s a whole lotta guns for a lap dance routine. Yeah, that’s your Uncle Bill, but he’s also a Ravager and looks genuinely disappointed every time Yondu postpones Eat-The-Terran day. That slime looks like bad news, do not lick it.

Then again, he didn’t become a magnificent outlaw by not doing anything risky and immensely stupid. This is just a business deal. And he’s managed to walk out every single time, with few scars and fewer blaster burns on his jacket. He can back out before getting in too deep.

(He has to. He’s ridiculously in debt to the seamstress guild on Xandar, and they’re notoriously vicious when it comes to collection. Needles-in-bits vicious.)

Rill ahems politely, mandibles quivering. Peter is reminded that he’s keeping a mafia lord waiting, soft spot for him or no.

Fuck it. He smiles, broad and assured. “I’m interested. Show me what you found.”

 ~

 When Tony comes to, he hits his head on the inside of the helmet.

Clanggggg. His eyes only water slightly – this is far from the worst he’s ever had in the suit. He’s not plummeting to a fiery death, or freezing solid in the stratosphere, or even catapulting to crash against the workshop ceiling. This is good. This is manageable.

Sure, he can’t rub at the bump on his forehead because the suit is dead, but that’s cool. It is. They let him keep his suit in hell, which seems like a cheatcode if there ever is one.

“J? You there?” His lips barely move, but that shouldn’t be an impediment if JARVIS is still functional. The ensuing silence is answer enough.

This is fine. I’m fine. If the suit’s a cheatcode, then JARVIS would’ve been a goddamn walkthrough. If Dante is to be believed, then this level isn’t so easy to cross.

“Stark, you know that’s a one-way trip.”

Tony opens his eyes.

Hell has an… interesting aesthetic. There’s a lot more neon-coloured lighting than the average person would expect, though Tony’s always believed Vegas to be an approximation of the netherworld. It’s more cavern than room; curved walls and no furniture, just oddly-shaped blocks that wouldn’t be out of place in a modern art exhibit. He can’t see any doors either, though his peripheral vision is fuck-all at this point.

Still, he’s got just enough leeway to crane his chin downwards – which confirms what he was already suspecting. He’s suspended in mid-air, his boots at least six inches clear off the ground. It’s like he’s been pinned in place by some kind of maglev effect, but he can’t fathom any present tech that would have the strength to hol–

No. No. Not tech. His heartbeat is beginning to skitter in his chest, pulse rapidly at the base of his neck. He would rather be dead and at the mercy of crazy Hades voodoo than be… lost in some speck of the universe. He refuses.

In typical fashion, the universe chooses that moment to slide open a section of the wall. What proceeds to come in appears to be closer to tentacle-alien than Fury-from-hell, but Tony is prepared to grant some artistic liberties.

Of course, all that is blown out of water when a Han Solo type swaggers in just after.

Maybe I made it to heaven. He’s being over-generous, but there’s something to be said for the clear-eyed, glinting regard of the man who’s just walked in.  There’s the getup, obviously – the jacket, the weapon holstered ever-so-carelessly on the hip, the fleet-fingered tap tap of his nails on his thigh suggesting anything but a lack of care. But what really sticks is the stare: hazel eyes, honest in their shade and undeniably mercenary in intention.

The fantasy comes to a screeching halt when the man actually opens his mouth. “I’d have to sell it off piece by piece, but I can get a good price.”

How dare.

Tony likes to think the suit comes alive through the power of his sheer indignation – but truth be told, he just kicked back his right heel and activated the emergency power supply. The repulsors whine to partial strength – he doesn’t do anything too fancy, just swivels his right gauntlet to point straight at his target.

And imparts devastating words that may or may not make it through his external speakers. “Sell this, you scummy Jawa.”

The repulsors fire, which is good. The man’s irises begin to glow, which is decidedly not.

The impact ripples out from the centre of collision like a shockwave – it catches Tony in the chest, wrenches him free of the maglev hold. It’s like being hooked and pulled backwards, very suddenly; the wall hits his back and he crumples, pain jangling in his senses like a livewire. His vision’s starting to go out.

Through it all, there’s space for one last, resentful thought.

Superpowers. Fuck me.

 -to be continued

[pi-cat000]

Girl who made the night sky: p4

Summery: To return home Shikako splits herself infinitely across dimensions. A fault in one of the splits results in a discorporated Shikako stranded in the Naruto canon-verse.

part 3 here 

part 4: Sakura has a nightmare 

- Link to Juno-nine’s original post which inspired this work: Shikako hitches a ride with canon!Sakura

- My original post, Sakura continues to investigate under my Fanfic account: Starcat000

.

She was standing in the middle of a dirt field. In her hand was an awkwardly sized scroll. Across the field stands of people were watching in silent anticipation.

She was moving, swinging the scroll around till it hit the ground. Ink blossomed out from the point of contact, spiraling across the rock, dirt and grass. A city of stone rose up around her. Giant pillars of rock.

Was she doing that?

She was moving. Fast. Faster then she had ever moved. Seals flourished under her feet as she ran. Her opponent blocked her with waves of sand. Lighting danced between her fingers. Red hair flashed under the sun and her opponent ducked away. In the distance crowds were cheering. They were cheering for her. The world seemed to explode outward. The stone pillars were falling. She was falling. It was okay. Sand was cushioning her fall.

Then it was dark. The warmth faded to be replaced with a creeping cold.

Dust. It floated in the air, catching stray rays of light. A stone room. A stone floor covered in red. Red as far as the eye could see. The world was red. Shadows moved just out of sight, dancing out of reach. Something huge and unfathomable stirred. 

It watched.

It knew she was there.  

Fear, panic. She was trying to run but she had no body to run with. She was trying to escape but whatever it was had pinned her in place. She was shadow. She was nothing.

She was falling. Away. Away from everything.

Down, down, down.

Into the dark and shadow. It pressed down from all sides, sealing her in. Ahead a mass of dense backness blocked the way, offering a reprieve from the chaos. All she needed to do was sink. Sink and let it take her away.

/!WaKe uP!/

Sakura jerked, flinging herself upright.

Her muscles tense. Her breath short.

The world slammed down around her. Heavy and real. Instead of the suffocating darkness, there were soft blankets. Slowly, her vision seemed to clear. The dim outline of her wardrobe greeted her. For a few seconds she couldn’t breathe, her chest tight. The shadows around her wobbled and shifted like long appendages, reaching across the room.  

Kako was a churning mass of frantic concern, hovering just out of reach. Sakura fumbled for her lamp, switching it on. Warm light illuminated her room, softening its edges. The shadows were just shadows. For several seconds Sakura sat in silence, listening to her hash breaths and pounding heart.

/Okay?/

The question and its underlying concern penetrated her disjointed thought. She swallowed.

“Okay,” she repeated dumbly.

“Okay. I’m Okay,” her voice sounded hollow and wooden in her silent room, bouncing off the walls. She shivered. Kako seemed to calm, pulling away, distancing herself.

“What was that?” Sakura asked, trying to pull Kako back in. She didn’t want to be alone. Not after that.

/A Dream/

“That was a dream,” she whispered. It had been so real. The sound of her voice was absorbed into her carpet. Barely audible. She shivered, swallowing and pulling her knees to her chest. Silence ticked by, slow and uncomfortable. In the back of her head, Kako watched, also silent, reminding her of the dream. That thing had also watched from the shadows. It had seen her. What if it was still watching? Her breath hitched and the sound echoed, impossibly loud. Even the beat of her heart seemed too loud for the unnervingly silent room.

/Tea?/

The comparison shattered. Kako was Kako again, her concern palpable and warm. Sakura breathed, glancing up, shaking her legs free of the blanket. The movement felt good. Tea was a good idea. No way was she sleeping now. Quietly, she padded down the hallway and past her parent's room.

On first glance, the kitchen was dark and still.  Closer inspection revealed the far window, half open, letting in the sound of crickets and the street outside. A soft breeze pulled at the drapes. Moonlight illuminated the dining table in a soft glow and reflected on the metal appliances.

The motions of brewing tea, boiling water and finding cups, calmed her nerves, giving her something to focus her thoughts on. She poured a cup for herself and, after a second of hesitation, poured one for Kako as well, placing it opposite her own. For a few minutes she sat, watching the steam on both drinks rise, dispersing into the air.

/Better?/

Sakura took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of herbs and spices. She did feel better.

“Yeah,”

She took a small sip of the hot tea.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. All that fuss over a nightmare. And she called herself a ninja. What sort of Shinobi was scared of their own bedroom?

Kako stirred uneasily, /No thanks needed/.

Sakura focused inwards but Kato had pulled away, cornering herself off and out of reach. Maybe the dream had disturbed Kako as well. When you shared your emotions with someone you began to pick up on these things. She thought of the red and that thing, that terrifying thing watching.

A full body shudder. Maybe it had been more than a dream. Where they in danger?

Kako, sensing her distress, returned, edging back. A new warmth tickled the edges of her mind as Kako smoothed over the worst of her anxiety. No. They weren’t in danger. She took a sip of tea and relished its fruity taste.  Whatever that ‘not-dream’ was, she wasn’t in danger. She trust Kako.

In fact, now she thought about it- before the whole thing had spiralled down into a nightmare-it had been fun, exciting even. She had been fighting someone in some sort of tournament. No. That wasn’t right. It hadn’t been her fighting. She had been more of a passenger, reliving a past memory. Like those times she dreamt about Taijutsu class. So, if it hadn’t been her then…

It had to have been Kako. She was almost 99% certain. Sakura, shadowy monsters momentarily forgotten, turned her attention to Kako.

Intellectually, she knew ninjas had the capabilities to literally move mountains. She supposed she had never internalized what this might mean. The way Kako had combined seals and Taijutsu and Fūinjutsu. The speed, moving so fast the world became a blur. Explosions at the touch of a hand. It had been incredible. Better than anything Sakura thought possible. Better than anything she thought she was capable of.

“That was you fighting against the red-haired man wasn’t it?” How could it have been anything but?

Kako didn’t respond but her silence was enough for Sakura.

“You were amazing,” she muttered to her cup. Not for the first time Sakura wondered who or what Kako had been before she had ended up in her head. Did she resent being stuck with someone like her? Someone weak.

Kako remained silent, seemingly surprised by her words.

/Possible for you/

Sakura snorted, “How? I’m not strong. All I can do is read and memories stuff.”

She tried not to let the taunts of her peers influence her but, in situations like this, it was hard.

/Training/ Kako declared with finality, amusement echoing outwards. That was easy for her to say, Kako was a disembodied voice. When would she even have time for extra training? She bearly had enough time to pursue her own interests as it was.

/Anyone can be strong/ Kako encouraged, sounding like she actually believed it.

Maybe if she started waking up earlier she would be able to fit more training in. It wouldn’t be fun but if she managed her time correctly then perhaps she could work something out.

“If, hypothetically, I wanted to be able to do things like that where would I even start?”

Kako gave off an amused hum, /Stamina/.

Sakura scowled. Her least favourite of the shinobi arts.  

/Basics first / Kako reiterated, almost gleefully. She was getting the feeling that Kako was planning something unpleasant.

/Stamina is important/.

“Okay, fine, I’ll wake up early from now on and work on my stamina,” she agreed already regretting bringing it up. She just had to keep believing that this was better for her in the long run. Seals were all well and good but she needed to be able to apply them in combat, meaning she had to be faster, stronger, smarter, and all-around better than she was now.

She thought back to the ‘not-dream,’ to the sensation of flying and the ground to disappearing beneath her steps. She wanted to fly like that. She wanted to never feel that powerless again. Sakura shivered. Whether it be in a dream or in real life. 

With the power of good time management, anything was possible.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Quiet (Part Four)

A Bucky X Fem!Reader series. 4/16

Summary: Steve Rogers makes an accidental discovery while on a simple hydra base raid. You. He brings you back to the Avengers Tower where they all try to figure you out. Your... interesting way of communicating makes that especially hard. Until one super-soldier proves otherwise.

Series warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Pregnancy, Injuries, Violence, Sickness, a few mild spoilers (maybe), Nudity, Embarrassment,

Chapter warnings: Fluff, Shakespeare Play Reading, 

Word Count: 2,030

A/N: Nothing :)

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four

"There you are," Tony says, jogging into the room and looking at you and Bucky. 

"We've found out a few things about you. You're nineteen years old. (Y/n) is what's on your birth certificate." 

You nod, the name playing over and over in your mind. 

"Your... family... Um... we couldn't really find anything on them. But we'll keep looking." 

You smile at Tony and motion him towards you. He rolls up his sleeve and holds his arm out.

Thank you so much Tony. It means the world to me that you'd go through all this trouble... just to find out about me.

"Well of course. It's not that big of a deal." His rosy cheeks contradict his words.

It is to me.

He stands there, speachless for a moment before looking at Bucky. 

"Robocop. I expect you to behave yourself. Keep your mini super soldier in your pants." 

Your cheeks flush and Bucky glares at Tony. A sudden clap of thunder makes you jump and you look between the two men frantically.

"Hey its okay. It's just Thor." Tony pats your clothed shoulder a few times to comfort you. You nod and take a deep breath as a huge blond man walks into the room. 

"Ah my friends! I have returned from my duties on Asgard." He flips around a hammer before grinning at Tony. 

"Man of Iron, catch." 

Without thinking, Tony opens his hands to catch the hammer. 

It drags him to the ground and he groans. 

"Very funny. Get this thing off of me!" Tony orders. Thor laughs and grabs his hammer. "Oh it is good to be back with you mortals."

 His eyes rest on you and he jumps over the couch to kneel in front of you. "And who is this fair maiden?" He asks. 

You press your hand against his arm.

I am (Y/n).

"Lady (Y/n). A beautiful name that suits a beautiful face." You giggle and Bucky rolls his eyes. "Where are the others? I'd like to play some tricks." Thor jumps up so suddenly that you flinch backwards a bit. Bucky puts his hand protectively on your knee as Thor runs out of the room.

"So... (Y/n)," the way Bucky says your newfound name makes you shiver. 

"What do you want to do today?" You shrug and glance around. He senses you wanting to say something and holds his arm out to you. Your fingers find his his bicep and -unbeknownst to you- a shiver ripples down his spine at your touch.

Are there any books I'd be able to read?

He smiles, "I'm sure we can find something." 

He offers you his metal hand and you smile, taking it and marvelling in how gentle he's being with you. 

"You know, a few months ago I wouldn't have even let you see my metal arm. I hated it. Hated myself. Hell, I couldn't trust my own mind. But now... I trust myself. And I'm happy again."

You let his words marinate in your mind as he pulls you into a room you've never been in, with books covering the walls.

"Wanda and I convinced Tony to install this so that us... loners," he chuckles to himself, "would have something to do during his parties." 

You nod and look through all the books, stopping when a particular title catches your eye. 

You reach for it at the same time Bucky does, your fingers colliding. You inhale sharply at the unexpected jolt of electricity at his touch. 

It's unlike anything you've ever felt when being touched by another person.

As his thoughts get transfered to your mind your eyes fall closed.

I was going to read that.

Grinning, you pull the book to your chest. 

"I was going to read that." He vocalize his thoughts with a pout on his rosy lips. You bite your lip and press your fingers against his arm.

I'll read it to you.

He nods at the suggestion and pulls you back to the common area.

You sit next to each other, skin touching to transfer your thoughts to his mind.

Can you hear me?

Only when he nods do you start reading in both of your heads, smiling as Bucky closes his eyes and listens as you say the words in his mind.

Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes a pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; whole misadventures piteous overthrows. Do with their death bury their parents... s...

You hesitate and Bucky glances at the page. 

"Strife," he whispers. 

You nod and continue reading.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, and the continuance of their parents' rage, which, but their children's end, nought could remove, is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; The which if you with patient ears attend, what here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

Bucky leans his head against your shoulder and sighs as you read.

~

Somewhere near the end of act 1 you and Bucky switch. You lean against him, his hand in yours as he reads to you in your mind.

"But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise fair sun! And kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou her maid art far more fair than she."

You sit closer to him, Romeo's sweet words making your insides melt.

"Be not her maid, since she is envious; her vestal livery is but sick and green and none but fools do wear it, cast it off! It is my lady! O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were. She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?"

His concentration falters a bit and you cock your head to the side, nudging him to continue. He grins and watches as you keep your eyes closed, a small pout forming on your lips.

Keep going.

You squeeze his hand for emphasis and he chuckles.

"Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: two of the fairest stars in all the heavens, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!"

The Avengers all slowly make their way into the commons room, not really taking any notice of the two of you as Bucky continues reading.

You open your eyes and watch the words on the page as Bucky reads them.

You're so entranced by him that you don't even notice Thor playing tricks on the other Avengers with Mjolnir.

"Lady (Y/n). Could you do me a favour and hold this for a moment?" 

You simply hold your hand out to Thor, busy listening as the play gets more intense. 

He drops something terribly well-balanced into your palm. 

You wrap your fingers around it and listen as Bucky finishes another paragraph.

"Uh... (Y/n)?" Tony asks. 

You look up, slightly irritated that someone pulled you from the story. 

"H-how? How can she...?" Steve shoves Tony at the slightly rude comment and grins. "Looks like (Y/n)'s worthy."

 He slaps Thor on the back rather roughly and you furrow your eyebrows and look up at Steve questioningly. 

"No one but Thor and Vision can hold Mjolnir. We're... surprised that you can because we've never come across anyone else who can." 

You simply nod, turning the hammer over in your hand. Thor holds his hand out like a child waiting for a treat and you smirk. Your free hand presses against his arm.

You handed it to me. I'd like to play around with it for a little while.

He makes a sound of annoyance and crosses his arms over his chest.  "Give it back this instant, Lady (Y/n)!" He exclaims. 

You stand up and swing the hammer around, getting closer to him with each swipe. 

He backs up slowly, his hands raised in surrender. "Okay. Play with it. I do not care anyway." He walks into the kitchen stubbornly. 

You smile, feeling triumphant, and sit back down to experiment with the hammer. You toss it around lightly, getting bored quickly and putting it down on the table.

You lean against Bucky and press your hand to his bicep.

Keep reading.

He chuckles and opens the book, about to start reading when Nat's voice grabs your attention.

"So (Y/n). How does it feel to know things about yourself?" You look up at her then back at Bucky.

Different. Strange even.

Bucky says what you thought to him and Nat nods. "Well, I hope you feel at home. You're always welcome to hang out with me." She pats your knee before walking to the kitchen to check on the pouting God. 

"Thor! Tony said you're not allowed any more of his poptarts!" Tony jumps to his feet and storms into the kitchen. 

You look over the back of the couch and watch as Tony struggles to reach the box of poptarts Thor holds above his head. 

"Come on you giant! Give it to me!" He grabs ahold of Thor's back as he starts walking out.

Thor continues walking as if Tony weighs nothing and you watch as Nat grabs onto Tony. Clint joins the train and Steve chuckles as Thor marches out of the room. 

“What have you two been doing this whole time?" Steve questions. "Reading. We've been taking turns reading to each other with the use of her most convenient gift." Bucky motions to the book and Steve nods.

"Well, I'm glad you've made a friend. Buck's a good guy. Although he was quite the lady's man back in 1940." Steve chuckles at the memories and you lean forwards, wanting to hear more. 

When he says nothing you get up and plop down next to him, pressing your hand against his arm.

Tell me about 1940. Before the war. I want to know what it was like for the two of you to be alive in such a time.

He smiles and glances at his friend. "Well, it sure as Hell was different. None of these wacky devices. Cars weren't even the best. Guns were all super... we rid compared to nowadays-" 

"With the exception of Hydra weapons!" Bucky interjects. 

Steve chuckles and leans back. 

"The girls never took much notice of me. But gosh did they look good. Conservative but still... nice. The hairstyles, the cameras. Hollywood actually got a lot of it right." 

You frown.

Hollywood?

"That's right... I've got an idea. How about tonight we order some pizza and watch all the best movies that you've missed out on?" 

You smile at his idea and nod, wanting to catch up on what you've missed out on for the nineteen apparent years of your life. "Alright. So we'll start with Pinocchio, a classic Disney movie. Then we'll watch..." 

You zone out as Steve lists movies for you to watch, your eyes finding Bucky.

You examine the curious man for the first time and take in all of his features. 

His hair is tousled on the top of his head. A beautiful dark salted caramel... or maybe light chocolate colour. 

His eyes are blue and enticing. 

His lips, plump and pink and perfectly kissable. 

His jawline so sharp it could cut your fingertips if you were to touch it.

James Buchanan Barnes is truly beautiful.

SERIES MASTERLIST

[chassie666]

Unfinished fic, just testing out the waters, is it too hot or too cold????

BURN

Part 1

“That's it bro!” Nino exclaimed loudly in the library, “I can't take this Romeo and Juliet stuff!  My brain is going to explode!”

He sat at one of the study table with Adrien, Alya and Marinette, working on their literature assignment.  Each group had to take a Shakespeare play and interpreted it, unfortunately for some, the language of the past did not seem to make sense to them.

“It's not that bad, Nino.” Laughed Alya, “You just have to take it part by part, right Marinette?”

Alya turned to her best friend, who was obviously in dream land starring hopelessly at the secret love of her life, Adrien.

“MARINETTE!” She shouted, making the poor girl jump out of her skin and fall off her chair.

“”Ow Alya!” Marinette blushed as she got up and sat back at the table, “There are other ways of getting my attention.”

Alya chuckled, “But this was fun.  But seriously, what about Romeo and Juliet for the class play?”

Marinette thought for a moment, “I'm not sure, there are some serious lines in there, but it would be so much fun to make the costumes thought!”

“And I'm sure you'll make the cast glow in your creations, Marinette” Adrien commented to her, making the poor shy girl blush even more.

“But dudes,” Nino starred at the the words he could not grasp, “I can't say these words, Let's find something with lots of action and drama!”

“Well we all have until after class to put in our suggestions for Mme Bustier to consider,”  Alya smiled, “What about a comic series?”

“Yeah!” Grinned Nino, “That would be awesome! Maybe I could write my own script and put it in the suggestion box! We can make it about Ladybug and Chat Noir ”

Adrien and Marinette smiled, secretly relishing in the fact that they are real superheros, it would be ironic if they played themselves?

*~o0o~*

“Goodnight, Papa” Adrien called out from outside his bedroom, he waited till he heard the muffled reply from his father's office before closing the door.  

He raced to his bed and began to arrange the pillows under covers, making his feathered double lay in his place as he went out on patrol with his Lady.

“I'm surprised that no one has just walked in here and pulled back the covers.” Laughed Plagg as the little black Kwami floated near Adrien.

“Don't jinx it Plagg,” Adrien turned off the lights in his room, “It give us the entire night to be free.”

“And fighting akumas right beside your Lady love is just the bonus?” Plagg grabbed another slice of warm cheese from Adrian's desk, “Are you always going to chase her even though she doesn't feel the same?”

“I know Plagg, I don't have a chance of her, but it won't stop me from loving her and trying...”

“Phff! What do you know about love?” Plagg asked in between bites.

“I know...”  A bright light from outside the windows illuminated the room, painting the wall a golden yellow, Adrien gazed out his grand window at the cause of the unnatural glow.

His eyes grew large as the source of the light was incredible.  It was a bird like shape made from flames, it glowed so bight in the night sky.  The young man starred closer to the form, there was a female outline within the flames, another akuma?

“Time to put out the cat Plagg!  CLAWS OUT!”  Adrien leaped out the window as he transformed into his alter ego, Chat Noir landed safely on all fours quietly on the roof below.

He stood up and kept his eyes on the akuma, it was moving slowly, headed towards the business end of the city, but still moving fast enough to make Chat run.  The young hero jumped from roof top to roof top, pondering who had been taken over by the wretched Hawkmoth.  It seamed that as much as he and Ladybug tried, they were no closer to discovering who he was and where, but with each akuma they defeat, they made sure his destructiveness did not spread.

Speaking of, he had not seen his Lady yet, surely something like this would have gotten her attention, unless she was preoccupied.  He stayed on course with the flaming bird, waiting for her to land or attack or at least something!

She landed on a rooftop by a restaurant that featured live bands, staying on the roof trying not to be noticed.  Tonight they have a string quartet of musicians, playing classical music to the patrons.  He landed on the building next to hers, it was higher and she wouldn't spot him easily.  He watched in awe as the flames around her disappeared and all that stood there was seemed to be a girl around his age, dressed in a frilly night gown.  Her hair was long and loose, but it was too dark to see the color, his night vision didn't help either.  She was gazing down towards the music, her body began to sway with the rhythm, enjoying the elegant sound from the well played instruments.  

Chat Noir stayed in the shadows, now uncertain if this girl was akumatized or not.  He watched in silent as a fiery from appeared in front of her, a man  it seemed with a top hat?  The flame man bowed to her, she curtsied back, he took her into his arms and they began to waltz around the roof with the music.  He was able to see her face, her eyes closed enjoying the music, a smile dressed her face as she danced with joy.  Even in the night he could see her beauty, her hair flowing behind her..

“This can't be an akuma,” He thought “she's not acting like one, she has no costume, she's... she's just dancing...”

Chat Noir made a daring decision.  He dropped from his perch and landed softly on her roof, his eyes still in wonder as she and her flame partner danced in circles in the cool air.  He moved closer, pleading with himself she wouldn't see him yet.  He stopped just a few feet away from her and grinned.

He bowed as she made her way towards him, “May I have this dance?”

She let out a shrill cry of surprise as her flame gentleman disappeared, Chat looked up at her, saw the fright and panic in her beautiful eyes, her face almost covered by her long bangs.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...”  He slowly reached out his hand to her.

In an instant she was covered with her flame bird presence and shot up into the night sky, Chat looked up confused, “Please wait!  I just wanna...?”  he shouted at her, but she did not hear.

He watched as the fire bird raised into the darkness, then shoot off towards the west side of the city, with much greater speed than before.  And within a moment, her light was gone.

Chat rubbed his head, still not sure what had just happened, “Who are you?”

“Who is who?” He head Ladybug ask as she landed beside him, “Who are you talking about?”

“Bugaboo!”  He grinned, “Didn't you just see a giant bird flying around made out of fire?”

Ladybug looked around the black sky, “No, I didn't see anything like that.  A new akuma?”

Chat looked back towards the west of the city, “I have no idea...”

*~o0o~*

The girl landed on the terrace of her room, her home had been a grand keep for years at one time, now it was a prison.  She crept inside, listening to anything that might give her pause, but everything seemed as she left it.  Until the lights were switched on.

Her scarlet hair glistened in the light, her amber eyes focused on the three that had waited patiently for hours for her safe return.

“Have you brains about yourself?” The short but stocky man shouted at her, his black hair peppered with gray, his navy blue housecoat wrapped tightly around his large belly, “You are well aware you are to NEVER leave this house!”

“I'm sorry but I need to get out of here for a bit!  I can't stand being locked away anymore!  It's too much for me!  I need some freedom!” She shouted back, “Stop being angry with me Papa!”

“I will stop when you start listening!  WHAT IF YOU WERE SEEN?”

“No one saw me.” She lied.

The tall thin woman by his side placed her hand on him, her red robes loose, “George, please, it was only a matter of time before she would get anxious.  It's not good for her to stay inside so long without...”

Mother, Please...”  She girl sobbed, “I don't want to be caged up anymore.  I want to know what being a normal teenager is!  I've been locked in either a laboratory or a stone cage all my life!  I'd like to know what it is to be free, even for a few minutes without being worried that I will burn the world!  I want to go to a real school!  Make friends! Live like a normal sixteen year old girl...”

A fire ignited in the fireplace of her room, reminding them.

“I'm sorry Rachelle, but you are NOT a normal teenager, you think I can allow a nuclear warhead loose in Paris? YOU are we are protecting these people from.  YOU cannot go out and have a soda with the girlfriends and get all pretty up and go on dates or anything like that!  And you know why!  You are old enough to understand that life isn't fair and unfortunately YOU don't get a normal life! There is thirty-nine reasons why you cannot be allowed out of this house.”

The girl  reeled back as if she was bitten by a dark reminder of her impending evil within, her father never let her forget the reasons why she had to be locked up like a dangerous animal waiting to be unleashed in a unprotected world.  She hated him for it.  

“That is enough My Lord...” the spectral voice broke the tension, the shadowy form of a woman dressed in 18th century black clothing float into the light.  Her head covered by a veil, but the two red glowing eyes penetrated the fabric, “Perhaps it would be time to allow the little swallow to fly.  Her human studies will be concluding soon and perhaps it would be a good time for her to experience this.”

George turned to his daughter's inhuman guardian, “Pasha, I will not be held responsible for allowing a bomb to run around Paris!”

“And that is why the good Doctor left her in MY care.” replied the dark woman, “My Lord, my master had given me responsibility of the girl, not you.  You are only here because you wish to be here and as her parents it would be beneficial to her mental health, but I do disagree with your methods of parenting.”

Rachelle smiled for the first time in a long time, “See? Even Pasha thinks it's a good idea!  Pasha of all people!”

The father starred at them all, his wife looked hopeful, his monster daughter pleading with her amber eyes, the death eater floated silently.

He sent a warning glare at the guardian, “I leave it in your care, but when she destroys this City, don't come crying to me!”

The others watched in silence as he left the room, Rachelle was beaming with excited, she turned to her mother.

“Am I really going to be allowed to go out now?” She looked at her mother pleading.

“Let us talk about it some more before we make a decision, I'm sure there will be some serious rules.”  She hugged her daughter, “Give it some time and we'll see.”

*~o0o~*

Adrien yawned for the fourth time as he waited at is desk while class was starting to fill in.  slowly all the chatting students made their way to the seat as the Teacher Mme Bustier was talking with Mr Damocles.  Adrien spent each night for the past week trying to find the fire girl as Chat Noir,  he would only call off his search when Ladybug needed his help, but after wards it was charge up Plagg and go again.  Still there was no sign of her.   He dreamed of her, her glowing face starring back at him in fear, him reaching just slightly to her...the thump of Nino's bag on the desk shocked Adrien back to the conscious world.

“Dude, You can't let the teacher catch you sleeping again.” Nino began to shake his best friend awake.

“I'm fine Nino...”  Adrien sat up and smiled at him, “I've been doing some late shoots and not getting enough sleep, I'll be more awake tomorrow.”

“All right everyone settle down and take your seats.” Mme Bustier said in a clear and commanding voice, “We are having a new student so I need to change things around here.  Ivan, I need you to trade seats with Lila.  Our new student is a girl so I'd like everyone matched up.”

“But Mme Bustier!”  Cried Lila, “Me and Nathaniel like it up here by ourselves.”

“I'm sorry Lila but that's how I want it, so both of you change seats now, she will be here soon.”

“Cool!  Another girl!” Alya smiled at Marinette, “I wonder what she's going to be like!”

“Hate to break it to ya unprivileged peasants, but she's from an old money family, rich!  I heard them talking about it yesterday.  She'll hang out with me before she'll look down at you guys.  It's going to be so much fun!  It's about time we get another rich girl, you poor people are just such a downer!”

“Not all rich people are snobs and childish brats...” Alya could feel the heat of her rage rise, “Adrien is rich AND a great guy, and he's not an ass like you!”  

“Keep him out of your cat fight!”  Nino tried to yell but kept it at a loud whisper, Adrien had fallen asleep again on the desk.

“What's wrong with him?”  Asked Marinette, Adrien was never this tired.  She smiled, he looked so adorable as he slept peacefully.  As she thought about it, Chat Noir was starting to look tired as well, perhaps they should ease up on their patrol.  

Mme Bustier starred at the sleeping prince, “ADRIEN AGRESTE!!!”

Adrien sat straight but still in the arms of sleep, “The radius is 7.5987 to the equal of....”

“It wasn't a question Adrien, perhaps I should take to your father about these late night photo shoots.  It's starting to be a huge problem in your education.”  

“NONONONONO!!!!” Adrien tried to smile, his father would question him relentlessly, “I swear this is the last time! It's my fault, I play video games after the shoot to unwind before bed and I get really really carried away...”

“One more time Adrien and I'll be calling your father into the office.”   Mme Bustier smiled at the rest of the class, “Now for our new student...”  She walked over to the classroom door, she opened it and peered around the door frame, “...you can come in now dear...”

Everyone stared at the girl following the teacher, no one stared more than Adrien as he recognized her face.  He lost the need for sleep and sat attentive to the new girl.  He quietly kicked his bag that rested against the table legs beside him, he could hear the bag material move as his Kwami looked out the cracks of the flap at the girl.  “NOPE!” he heard from the bag.

Tikki also looked out Marinette's bag and gave the girl a good look, it didn't ease the worry she was feeling.  

Adrien smile at her, she still had that look of fear on her face, but nothing compared to her fright the other night.  Her long red hair was pulled up in a pony tail, her long bangs seemed to hide her eyes from the uneasy gaze of the other students.  A dark pink knitted shawl draped over her red dress, her amber eyes still fearful glanced over the students before her.

“Everyone, please meet Rachelle Dubois,” She turned to the frightened girl, “Rachelle, would you like to say something about yourself?”

Rachelle was obviously nervous, this was her first time actually interacting with people her own age.  They all stared at her, some with strange looks on their faces, some with friendly faces, and one with quite the snobbish look.  The palms of her hands began to sweat, she could feel her inner heat began to rise.  She had to calm down or her nervousness would burn the school down.  Not a very good first day if that happened.  

I can do this! She thought, she took a deep breath, “I... I love music...”

“Do you play an instrument?” The teacher asked.

Rachelle nodded in silence, she swallowed hard and tried to not sound foolish, “I can play the piano, guitar, drums, flute...”

“Sure you do!” Cloe laughed, “Just like Lila is best friends with Ladybug!”  

Most of the class began to laugh, only a few didn't think it was funny, especially Lila.  

She gave Cloe a dirty look, “One day you blond bimbo...”

“ENOUGH CLASS!” Mme barked, “Rachelle, you can take the empty seat beside Lila behind Marinette and Alya...”

Rachelle slowly made her way up to the third seats, she didn't notice how hard Adrien was staring at her, his eyes moved with her as she took her seat beside an angered Lila.  Nino, Alya and especially Marinette took notice on how hard he was looking at her, and his staring was making the new girl more nervous one she noticed him.  

“Hey...” Nino whispered to Adrien, “I think your staring is starting to weird her out bro.”

Adrien immediately turned around, “Oh you're right...”

“So...” Nino grinned, “You like the new girl?  She caught your eye?  It's the red right?”

Adrien couldn't hide the huge smile, the fire girl had a name, Rachelle.  He couldn't help his sheepish grin as he began to think of different ways to strike up a conversation with her.  For now they had one thing in common, Adrien played the piano as well.  

*~o0o~*

Adrien stared at the girl in red as she sat on a wooden bench, under the shade of a tree in the outside court yard of the school.  She was eating her lunch out of a small pink box, with chop sticks.  He could see she was experienced with them, eating her cold rice with ease. He grinned as he spotted the manga book in her hand, there was another thing they had in common, but he didn't know how he should approach her.

“Just walking up to her and saying hi would be a start” He heard Plagg from his school bag.

“It's not that easy Plagg, I can't just walk up to her, what would I say? What if she recognized me? “  Adrien sighed, “I need to know if it's really her or am I just wanting to find her so bad that I see her everywhere?

“Oh she's the one alright, I can smell the sulfur and brimstone from her.”  Plagg laughed.

“She's a demon?” Adrien almost shouted in shock.

“Oh no, not a demon, don't be silly.” the little black cat Kwami had a sly grin on his face, “You can take care of a few demons, that girl is a whole new level of scary.”

“Yeah ok,” laughed Adrien, “Look at her Plagg, she's just sitting there eating her lunch reading a manga... oh my gosh it's a bento box lunch!  She's eating a bento box!  And she knows how to use chop sticks!”

“So she's a dork just like you.” Plagg grinned again, “So there's more things to talk to her about, so just go up to her and talk to her.  Ask her what book she's reading or what's she's eating cause it looks interesting.  Or just make something up.  But just standing here stalking her is not getting you anywhere.  So suck it up, but if you get burned don't come crying to me about it.  I did warn you.”

“About what?  You've given me nothing about her?  Can you feel her power? Is she an akuma?  Is she a Miraculous holder?  What the hell is she?” Adrien knew Plagg was hiding what she was from him, but why?

“She's going to be Cloe's next victim if you don't do something”  Plagg answered, causing Adrien to look back the girl, to see Cloe and Sabrina making their way towards her.  

“Hey new girl!” Cloe shouted, “Do you always read your book backwards? Is that what they do back where you come from?”  Cloe and Sabrina began to laugh.

Rachelle looked puzzled at them, “It's a manga, straight for Japan, that's how they read and write...”

“So, you are reading this for what?  You can't read like normal people? Eww!!!   What are you eating?  That's so gross!   You know there's a place for weirdos like you...”

Rachelle was already having difficulties with being at the school, but this bully was making things worse.  She looked down at her meal, the little dried fish were delicious with the sauce and the octopus bits were just as sweet.  She tried to shrink back in her seat, unsure how to deal with this girl, without using her abilities.  Was many people just mean?  Rachelle began to entertain the thought of burning the seams off Cloe's clothing in front of everyone in the class, but her embarrassment wasn't worth risking her discovery.

“...you can go to school across the city for “special” students...” Cloe began to laugh again.

“Cloe!” Adrien shouted as he approached them, “Don't you have better things to do than to pick on the new girl?  You have a serious problem Cloe and if you don't get a grip on it, you are definitely going to be alone for the rest of your life.”

“Adrikins!” She put on a fake smile, “I was just being friendly...”

“Making fun of her lunch is NOT being friendly.  Making fun of her reading choice is NOT being friendly.  Do you really need to make everyone feel like crap just to lift your poor self esteem up for a minute?  I know crap has happened in your life to make you angry but it gives you no reason to be rude and mean!”  Adrien had enough of her bullying, “Crap happened to me too but you don't see me making other people feel like shit!  Try being nice for once and maybe it will make you feel better because doing this isn't.  It makes you look like a... bitch.”

Cloe and Sabrina were shocked, Adrien had never been rude or brass, had never called anyone a name.  But his limit had been reached by her, Cloe had cause a lot of people to become akumatized as well as just being the school bully, and Adrien was tired of it.

“I...I can't believe you...just called me a...”

“A bitch.”  Rachelle looked up at her and smiled, “He called you a bitch because you're acting like one.”

Cloe was at a loss for words, no one had ever dared to be so rude with her, not even Marinette and she was the victim of almost all of Cloe's disgruntled anger.  She turned around in a huff and began to walk quickly towards the school with Sabrina in tow.  

Adrien sat on the bench beside Rachelle, “I can't believe I just said that to her.  I'm never rude let alone name calling.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better...Thank you.”  She smiled at him, Adrien looked back at her.  She had such a pretty smile.

“You're welcome, Cloe can be a tyrant, but I know there's some good in her...”

“My first impression states otherwise.”  She put her book back in her bag, “I'm glad that you came over, I'm...I'm not used to dealing with other people...”

Adrien smiled back at her, “Were you home schooled?”

“You can say that...”

“So was I!” Adrien grinned, “I just started coming here last year. You'll like it here.   Everyone is really nice, you'd like my friends, My best bud Nino is awesome, his girlfriend Alya runs the Ladyblog, and there's Marinette, she awesome and extremely sweet. She's going to be an amazing fashion designer one day...” He began to blush and chuckle nervously, “... I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself...I'm Adrien.”  

“I was wondering when you'd tell me.” She laughed, “I'm Rachelle, and again, thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“I am happy to be your knight in matt cotton.” Adrien was pleasantly surprised when she laughed.  

“That's funny.” Rachelle grinned at him.

So...” Adrien could feel his own cheeks flush as they both chuckled with their nervousness, “What were you reading?”

“Revolutionary Girl Utena.” She pulled the book out of her back and showed him, “I'm on the fifth book.  I just love her whole “I want to be a Prince” attitude.”

Adrien couldn't hid his grin, “I started fencing lessons right after I watched the first season, I thought it was so cool how they fought. Speaking of...”  He pulled out his cell and checked the time, “I actually have to be going, my lesson starts in a few minutes.”

“Thanks again for rescuing me.”  She smiled as he stood up.

“Anytime Fair maiden.” He chuckled, and he mock bowed, “Maybe you can pair up with us when we head to the war museum this afternoon, it's a huge place so Mme wants us in groups.  It'll be fun.”

“Sure.” Rachelle couldn't be happier, things seemed to be going well for her first day on the outside.

“Great! I'll see you in class after.”  Adrien gave her a small wave as he turned and ran towards the front door of the school.

“That was beautiful!” He heard Plagg from his school bag, “I knew you had it in you!   Not only did you put Cloe in her place, but you're impressed the girl with your dorkness.  You're on a roll kid!”

“Come on Plagg, what is she?  She's not akumatized, never seen anything like that before, and now she's here like she's a normal girl.  I need to know how and why and...”

Plagg laughed harder, “Oh my gosh, you are so curious!  It's eating at you!  Well, you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat...”

“...satisfaction brought him back.” Adrien grinned, “She could be a new super hero that could help us with Hawkmoth.  We could finally have a chance to stop him once and for all!  And ladybug and I could finally know each other's identities!  And maybe...”

“...And maybe you just ran past your fencing class!”  Plagg laughed again.

“Shit!” Adrien turned around and opened the door to the fencing room, happy to see everyone still changing.

“Lucky.” He heard from his bag.

“I am today!”  He smiled as he walked to his locker.

*~o0o~*

'Did you see the way he looked at her?” Marinette asked her best friend Alya as they headed to Marinette's house for lunch, “He looked like a dog who just found his favorite toy!  I mean, I've never seen him look like that...”

“Girl, you're just working yourself up for nothing.  She's just the news for the next few days and then she won't be exciting anymore.  Besides, you've been working on that boy for over a year now, I'm sure it's just a matter of time before he asks you out.”

“That's just it Alya, it's been over a year and still I can't form a full sentence when he's around.  My head gets all foggy and I get hot and cold at the same time, I just can't keep it together long enough to ask him instead of waiting for him to do it.  The way it's going we're all going to graduate before he asks me.”

“Well maybe you can take an opportunity at the war museum to ask him out. Me and Nino can kinda step away from you two and give you some privacy...”

“That's a great idea Alya!  We can go to a part of the museum where Cloe or her pet Sabrina won't interrupt us and I can finally ask Adrien out...”

Tikki listened to the girls laugh, it made her worries grow.  Hidden in Marinette's bag, she turned on Marinette's phone and brought up the text menu.  She typed in an unknown number then moved on to her urgent message:

NEED APOINTMENT WITH “LIBRARIAN” ASAP.

She turned the volume down and waited patiently for the reply.  It didn't take long for it to come.

MSG SENT, WILL MSG WHEN I KNOW WHEN

Tikki sighed, she hoped that she was wrong about the girl, she would wait until she knew more before telling Marinette.  She didn't want to frighten her, at least not yet.

*~o0o~*

Nino looked around the museum, “What are we supposed to learn here?”

“Our war history?” Adrien replied as he looked around for Rachelle, he didn't notice her on the bus, “Hey, did anyone see Rachelle get off the bus?”

Marinette and Alya gave each other a puzzled look.

“Um, no...” Smiled Alya, “Why?”

“Because I invited her to join our group on this field trip, I hope you guys don't mind.  She's been house schooled like I was and I doubt she has any friends so I thought we could hang with her.” Adrien grinned as he finally saw her creep out of the woman's washroom, cautiously looking around.

He waved to her, she smiled back and started her way towards them.

Alya gave Marinette a reassuring look, “Always the good guy, when did you ask her.”

“At lunch, Cloe was giving her a hard time so I stopped it, we had a little chat and she seems really nice.  She was home schooled too”

“That's really kind of you Adrien...”  Marinette tried to smile, still unsure about the presence of this new girl around the love of her life.  

When Rachelle reached them, Adrien moved beside her, “Rachelle, this is my Best friend Nino, his girlfriend Alya and our friend Marinette.  

The three friend greeted her and smiles, Alya wasted no time as usual, “So Rachelle, Adrien told us you were home schooled too, what do you think about our class?”

“Well,” She chuckled, “I hated math but then I found decimals had a point.”

Rachelle and Adrien busted in laughter as the others rolled their eyes.

“A math pun?” Adrien took a breath, “That was awesome.”

Alya groaned and leaned close to her bestie, “We may have an issue...”

Marinette understood the situation, Adrien and Rachelle kept smiling at each other the whole time while they traveled with the class going through all the exhibits with the tour guide.  The two would sneak whispers with each other, a laugh here, a chuckle there.  Adrien was getting too friendly with this new girl, similar to what happened last year with Lila.  But Marinette ended that as Ladybug, and it caused Lila to be akumatized by Hawkmoth.  Things didn't improve after Ladybug cleansed the akuma,

Lila had voiced how much she hated ladybug and vowed revenge that never seem to come...yet.

She knew she couldn't just transform into Ladybug to get Adrein's attention, she's done that a couple of times and it didn't end up well.  Marinette led out a sigh of discontent, she had to let things run their course, it wasn't like they were a couple.  Adrien could have lots of friends that are girls, there's her, Alya, Cloe (uhg..) basically all the girls in class where his friend.  What's one more...that made him laugh loudly at her puns...

“Hey, you ok?” Alya asked her as she wrapped her arm her friend, “You know this could just be nothing.  We could be reading this all wrong...”

“I know, I'm just letting my imagination run wild.”  Marinette smiled, “After all, Adrien is a wonderful, caring, sweet guy.  He's just being nice...”

The screams of frightened people from down the hall made the class turn their heads towards the terrifying sound.  People where being chased down towards them by what seemed to be world ward one soldiers. Adrien and Marinette both noticed that the soldiers where mannequins that came alive, they both hopes that the guns they where wielding weren't.  There was only one thing that would do that.  A tall man marching behind the soldiers dressed as a general was the cause.  His metal looking skin and red eyes clearly told the two that an akuma had been released.  

Marinette belong looking around for a place to change, but she also had to make sure that her friends where safe first.  She looked around and smiled as Nino and Alya where beside her, but as the crowd came running past the class, they were separated from Adrien and Rachelle.  

“Oh no!  Adrien!”  Marinette was just about to make a rush for him when Alya grabbed her hand.

“We got to go girl!  Adrien and Rachelle can go find cover, “She turned to Nino, “Get Marinette to safety, Ladybug and Chatnoir are going to be here any minute and I need the footage for the Ladyblog.”

“No way!”  Nino stared down at her, “You're coming with us!  That's too dangerous for you to be there!  They have guns! No not having it!”  

“Nino! This is my job!  I'm a reporter!  I need to report this to the people!”

Marinette took the opportunity to run behind an old tank to transform, “Tikki spots on!”

Adrien pulled Rachelle behind him as the crowd rushed buy, he knew Nino wouldn't let anything happen to the girls.  So Adrien only had to worry about getting Rachelle to safety and to help Ladybug, who should be here very shortly.  He pulled her towards one of the entrance to another exhibit.  As they entered the large round room, Adrien pulled the doors closed and locked them.   He turned to Rachelle to see the same panic stricken look she had the night before.

“What are those...”  She looked at him confused, “What's going on?”

Adrien placed both his hands on her shoulder to try to calm her, “You stay here where it's safe, I'm going to try to help the others.  Just don't move from here...”

“You're going to leave me here alone?”  She could handle that, just in case she had to use her powers for self defense, no witnesses would be the best.

“I swear you'll be ok here, just wait until I...”  The squeaky sound of plastic rubbing on itself sent chills up both their spines.

They both looked around, to their horror the room was full of mannequins dressed as Nazi soldiers, and they were slowly starting to move.  It took them seconds to surround the two, Adrien tried his best to put Rachelle behind him, moving them closer to the wall where he could protect her better.  He could hear the panic in her breath, he wasn't going to be given much choice soon.  The mannequins where equipped with guns and swords, making real harm a reality to them.  Time was coming to an end.

Adrien took a deep breath, “Plagg!  Claws....what?”

He was being lifted in the air, he looked down at Rachelle, her eyes glowed as if they were on fire.  His eyes grew in awe as fire ignited over her body, taking shape of a eagle.  The head seem to come alive and cried out a high piercing shriek that sent a soft but strong tingling feeling though out Adrein's body.  He could feel the heat radiating from her fire, this is what he was looking for.  This was more than proof she was the same girl he saw.  His heart pounded with excitement as he watch her extend her palm out towards the mannequins, a burst of fire came out, burning anything in its path. She roared as the plastic soldiers melted all around her, the fire grew with her as she made sure anything dangerous was burned beyond recognition.  

“What is she?”  Adrien whispered.

Plagg looked out from under Adrein's jacket, “Like I said, a whole new level of scary...”

When nothing moved around them, she brought her arms beside her and began to inhale, the flames began to to flow towards her, being absorbed by her own flames.  The fiery bird form began to grow until all the flames where gone, Rachelle turned towards Adrien, her eyes still burning bright.  She lowered him safely back on the ground as her fire aura disappeared into the darkness of the room.  Adrien stood in silence as he starred at her in aw,  he had never seen anything so beautiful.  

“No..no no nonononono!!!!” Rachelle began to panic, she had lost control and burned everything in front of him...

“Rachelle?” He took a step closer, she jumped away for his touch.

“No...I messed up again!  They're going to find out and they're going to lock me up!” tears began to run down her cheeks.

“Rachelle, you just saved my life!”  Adrien was confused with her rambling, “Come on, no one's going to know, I promise..”  He tried again to get near her but the terrified girl moved back, the more upset she got, the hotter the room got, he had to try to calm her down before she set the room back on fire around them.

“You're going to tell!  I shouldn't have done this in front of you!  You don't understand!  They're going to lock me back up again and I can't go back!”  She sobbed.

“Rachelle, I swear I won't tell a soul!  Please trust me...”

“How can I trust you?  I just met you!”  

Adrien could see the smoke around him getting thicker as sparks began to ignite in the ashes, he had no time for this but he couldn't leave in the state that she was in.  He hoped that Ladybug could hold off the akuma until he got things settled here first, but how was he going to gain her trust?

He took a change and garbed her hand, pulling her closer face to face, “Listen to me, I swear that I will never tell your secret to anyone, as long as you never tell mine.”

Rachelle wiped a tear away from her face with her free hand as she gave him a look of disbelief, “What secret could you have that compares to this?”

He gave a sheepish grin as he gave her a playful wink, “Plagg, claws out!”

“What? Oh hell no...!” Plagg yelled as he was being absorbed into the ring.

Rachelle was motionless as she gazed upon the face she had seen the night she first escaped her home,  she knew from the internet and television who he was along side his Ladybug partner.  He startled her, she didn't expect to be found so soon by anyone the least the resident super heroes of Paris.  The though of any possibility of being caught by them frightened her.  But now, he stood in front of her in his bareness, trying to ease her mind.  

“See?” Chat Noir grinned, “So, is it a deal?”  

He leg go of her hand as she gave him a good look, “Ok, yeah...it's a deal.”  She looked around the room, “but how can we hide this?”

“Not to worry my fair maiden,” Chat laughed, “Ladybug's Miraculous will be able to fix this after we've captured the akuma, which is why I need you to stay here and please calm down. ��I have to go help her and I need to know you'll be ok,.  We don't need to have the building collapse on us.  Ok?  We'll fix this and no one will know.”

Rachelle took a deep breath, “Ok, I'll wait here.”

Chat took her chin in his hand and gently lifted her face to his eyes, “Hey, it's going to be ok.  Trust me.”

Rachelle nodded as he let go of her and ran out the doors, she crouched down in the middle of her destruction, holding her knees tight in comfort.

*~o0o~*

Chat Noir ran as fast as his enhanced body could run down the hall to the sound of his lady in contact with the metal general akuma, and sure enough as he turned the corner, he could see her in the mist of “soldiers”.   She was definitely keeping them at bay, but she needed his help now if they were going to take the akuma down.

“Sorry I'm late My Lady, but traffic was bad!” He joked as he landed beside her, deflecting the attacks from the mannequins with his staff.

“Better late than never Kitty!” She smiled at him.

“Got a Plan?” He asked as she swung her yo yo around him, pulling him out of the way as a metal bookcase was thrown at their directions.

Ladybug and Chat Noir rolled out of the way and landed back on their feet, starting down the “general”

“Get the Miraculouses!” The akuma yelled out to his remaining mannequin.

“Alright, he's too heavy to lift, so we need to take him down but how?” Ladybug looked around.

“Lucky Charm time Bugaboo?”  Chat grinned, “It usually helps.”

She threw her yo yo up in the air, “LUCKY CHARM!”

A flash of red light flickers as a red spotted bottle of dish soap landed in her hands.  

Chat gave her a strange look, “So we're going to wash his dishes or something?”

“Be serious Chat,” Ladybug looked around the room, her bug vision spotted a small metal door on the wall opposite from them but close to the general.

“Ladybug they're getting closer!” Chat yelled as he began to beat off the ones that reached them first.

“Chat, there's a metal wall on the other side, we need what's behind it! I'll get behind the tin-man.”

“You got it bugaboo!”  Chat replied as the two ran off leaping over the remaining plastic soldiers.

Ladybug moved to her position as Chat got to the metal door, but found it locked down, “CATACLYSUM!” he touched the door with his power, he felt the dark charge course through his veins as the door disintegrate under his touch.  He loved the thrill it gave him to use it, that moment of pure power made him feel intoxicating but for just that one moment.  

He pulled out the hose and turned on the water, “Hey Tin-man, are ya thirsty?” He sprayed the general with the hose as Ladybug ran around emptying the dish soap around him.  

The general tried to take a step but lost his balance as his heavy eight made loosing his balance easier, as soon as one leg was in the air, putting so much weight on the other, it cause the other foot to slide from the slipperiness of the soap.  The akuma fell on the ground, shaking the old building to its foundations.   Ladybug ran over and grabbed the war medal on the metal general's chest, breaking it and releasing the black butterfly.

“No more evil doing for you little akuma!” Ladybug said as she stroked her yo yo releasing the cleansing power, she threw it towards the cause of most their problems, “Time to de-evilize!”  

The yo yo trapped the dark akuma with it, “Gotcha!” she reeled it back in, touching the glowing side again with her finger.  The sides opened up, releasing a white butterfly glowing a soft lavender.  It began to fly up high, away from the mall.

“Bye bye little butterfly...” Ladybug said as she took hold of the empty bottle of dish soap, she threw it hard in the air, “MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”  

The red sparkling power exploded for the bottle, racing towards all directions, repairing all the damage that the akuma had cause. Mannequins with their old uniforms sprang back into place, damaged repaired right before their very eyes.  

“That will never get old!”  Ladybug smiled, she extended her first to her partner.

“Pound it!” they both said in unison as they fist bumped.

“As always My Lady it has been a pleasure, but I”m going to turn back...so I'll catch you later LB!”  Chat waved as he ran back down the hall.

Ladybug was puzzled, he usually lingered as long as he could before they parted.  She ran into the broom closet, “Tikki, spots off!”  In a flash of light, Marinette stood in Ladybug's place, she caught the little red Kwami in her hands, “You ok Tikki?”

“I'll be fine Marinette,” She replied in a weak voice, “I just need some cookies...”

“Here,” Marinette slid Tikki into her satchel, “There's a few packaged cookies in there, rest up.”

She stood up and crept slowly out the door, making sure no one was watching, “I have to find Adrien and the others...”

*~o0o~*

Chat reached the doors where he left Rachelle, just as he was about to open the door, he could smell the order of brunt plastics and fabrics.  He slowly opened a door and slid in unnoticed, he was her holding herself in the middle of the ash stricken room.  Ladybug's miraculous didn't touch the room, nothing had been fixed, how?

“Rachelle?” He called to her softly, she lifted her head at him, looked at him with tear filled fearful eyes.

“It didn't work...” She whispered.

“Plagg, Claws in...” He caught Plagg and slid him in his shirt pocket where a wheel of Camembert waited for the little Kwami, Adrien bent down and took her hands into his, “Don't worry, we'll think of something Rachelle, it will be ok, I promise...”

They slowly rose up, still holding hands, his smile began to reassure her, his gentle face seem to ease her worries, things couldn't get any worse...

They heard the door open, “I FOUND THEM!!!”

“Nino!” Adrien looked shock as Rachelle looked away, trying to dry her tears.

“Whoa dude!”  Nino looked around the room as he and Alya walked towards them, “What happened here?”

It looks like someone took a blow torch here...” Commented Alya as she began to take pictures with her phone.

“We don't have any idea...” Adrien said in a confidence voice, “Rachelle and I have been running trying to find a place to hide. We just came in.”

“This is weird...” Alya was still taking pictures, “Ladybug's miraculous was supposed to fix this...”

“Alya, maybe there was a fire in here already before the akuma attacked. That dude who was akumatized could have caused the fire in here and was just fired...”  Nino's guess did make sense.

Adrien grinned as Alya pondered his thought for a moment, “True... you do make a very good point...”

“Alya?” They heard Marinette's voice from the hall.

“We're in here Marinette!”  Alya called back.

Marinette popped her head in, “What's going on here?”  She saw Adrien holding a distraught Rachelle in his arms, a small growl escaped her lips.  

“We're trying to get everyone together for a head count,” Replied Nino.

“Check out this place Marinette...” Alya took a few more pictures, “Do you think that it's possible for Ladybug's miraculous to have a limit?”

It was just now that Marinette noticed the state the room was in, “What happened?”

“I'm guessing that this is what cause the akuma this time.” Nino voice with pride, “Alya even agrees with me!”

“Whoa boy,” Alya crossed her arms, “I said you have a good point, but I didn't agree with you.  Need to investigate this further.”

“No can do babe,” Nino grinned, “We're got to book it to the front, we've been told to get on the bus for a head count.  Akuma attacks are nothing to take lightly.”

“Fine, for now...”  She gave him a wink as she started out the door with Nino in tow.

Adrien gently pulled Rachelle behind him while making their way past Marinette, who was still starring eye wide open in disbelief.

“Marinette?” She heard Adrien call her, “You coming?”

“Yeah...” As she followed up behind them, her eyes catching the glimpse of his hand still in hers.  

As they made they way in the bus with the field teacher marking off their names on her clip board, Adrien motioned to Nino, “Rachelle is having a hard time, it's her first akuma attack so I'm going to sit in the back with her ok?”

“Oh yeah sure dude, that's cool”  Nino smiled as he slid with Alya and Marinette, “That boy is so nice...”

“Too nice if you ask me...” Alya snidely replied.

“Hey babe, I know you're hard on your girl and my boy getting it on but we don't control who he wants to be with.  He's got a thing for the new girl, come one now it's not her fault.  Geez, get over it.”

“Nino's right.” Marinette sighed, “She's probably really nice and Adrien being the gentleman he is, it's just in his nature to want to help so maybe we're just making something bigger than it is...”

Marinette turned around and peered over the seat to see with herself if her imagination was running wild.  She saw that Rachelle was still upset, looking out the window biting nervously on her bottom lip.  She looked at Adrien, who was staring at Rachelle with a concerned look, he whispered something in her ear, it made her turned back to him and smile.  Marinette could feel her heart sink, it was obvious that something was starting between them.  She was too late.  She should have done something sooner, and now time wouldn't turn back. Marinette slumped back into her seat.

“Marinette?” Alya asked, Marinette laid her head on her friend's shoulder and closed her eyes, wishing she had more time.

The ride back to the school was too short, Marinette had to watch in silence as Adrien hopped off the bus, still hold Rachelle's hand.  He pulled her away from the rest of the class who were  dispersed around since it was home time anyways.

“Are you going to be ok?” He asked her softly.

She nodded softly, “Yeah, I think so.  You think they bought that?”

“I'm sure they did,” He smiled at her, “We're going to have to work on keeping you from igniting things on fire.”

She smiled at him, “Thank you again, you seem to be there when I need you.”

“Just doing my duty as a knight of the matt cotton.”  He took her hand and kissed the back of it, it send sweet shivers down her spine, “Can I see you tonight?”

“Tonight?” She asked him.

“Yeah, tonight, on the roof top where we first met.”  His eyes met with her, making her feel weak at the knees.

“Ok...” the excitement filled her as she thought of sneaking out, “Yeah, on the roof top, same time?”

“Yeah..” He smiled, he looked back at the two cars lined up by the curve, “I'll be the one in black.  Looks like my ride is here.”

Rachelle looked over, “Mine too, the black car.”

“Wow, coincidence much?” He chuckled as they began to walk towards their rides.

“Like right out of a manga.” Rachelle laughed.

Marinette couldn't stop staring at them, she always believed that it was just a matter of time before Adrien would notice her.  But it all came to an end when that girl came into their class.  In one day she had done what Marinette dreamed of for over a year.  All her hope and dreams came crashing down around her, and she had no one to blame but herself taking her time, pretending that there was just him and her and... fiction sounded so possible.

She started to walk home as their cars pulled away, Tikki floated from the satchel and hid behind Marinette's hair, “Marinette?  What's wrong?”

“Adrien is falling for the new girl Rachelle...”

“Oh no...”  Tikki took a deep breath, “Marinette, we have to go see Master Fu right away.”

“About my love life or lack of one?”  Marinette was confused, “I'm pretty sure he'd be against me parading around Adrien as Ladybug just so he's notice me and that's not how I wanted it to happen anyways.”

“Marinette, this have nothing to do with your love life!  Remember the burned room?”  Tikki floated closer to her, “The akuma didn't burn the room.”

“Do you know what happened there Tikki?”

Tikki hesitated for a moment, “I have a guess but I need to talk with Master Fu before I say anything.  I'm hoping I'm wrong but if I'm not, this world could be in big trouble...”

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

NSFW #2.5: Zombie Flesh Eaters

It was always astonishing how small the world really seemed from this high up. NSFW would be landing in Medellin in an hour or so. They had left their home base after only a sparse couple days in Pittsburgh. They could have made a straight shot right from Cusco to Medellin- it would have meant less time airborne and more sightseeing- but they had an important appointment that couldn’t be delayed. So home they’d gone, and in their brief time there they hadn’t simply dealt with what was necessary, they’d spoken at length of things they wanted to see and do while in Colombia. However, at the end of the day, it all cycled back to what they were going there for in the first place. The ascent back up to the top- perhaps less literal than the ascent they’d taken together back in Peru, the grand pinnacle being the city full of the ghosts of a long-passed civilization, but no less strenuous. To prove to smirking, haughty Cross Reboca and his vicious, desperate partner that they weren’t going away, that they would be breathing down their necks as long as they held the Chimeras. Of course, that meant clearing away any obstacles in their path. The obstacle now, strangely enough, was the team that they first thought they would be chasing upon their imminent arrival to Valor Pro. Things had changed rather quickly. Now, with Cuba below them, its buildings in miniature from this altitude, Mike found themselves musing about the peculiar pair, representatives of an even more peculiar group. Giving a glance to their partner, who seemed enthralled by the view of the world from above, Mike looked to their phone, raising an eyebrow at the camera. “To be honest, I don’t really get it. I mean I wanna get it. I want to like you guys. You seem cool, and your mission statement is on point. I mean, after spending the last couple shows fighting against the fuckin’ paragons of self-serving bullshit, a team whose mission statement is to improve the world around them is a goddamn breath of fresh air.” Tucking their hands behind their head, Mike glanced past their partner out the window, shrugging. Their Mets cap was turned to the side, the brim tilted in an almost jaunty manner over their left ear. They and their partner were both clad in jean shorts and sneakers, as well as tank tops to beat the heat wave that’d been gripping Pittsburgh when they left it- Mike’s a plain white ribbed Fruit of the Loom number, John’s a heather grey with deliberately faded text reading ‘Property of Pittsburgh Penguins Hockey Club’, likely a gift from the redhead at his side. “And it ain’t like we don’t got shit in common. For one, we both got screwed worse than the recipient of the world’s biggest gangbang by ReKota- you got screwed out of the Chimeras, and we got screwed out of obtaining them, because actually playing fair and winning by your own goddamn mettle seems to be a foreign fucking concept to them. They don’t care as much as we do. You two. Me and Church. Those belts mean more to people like us than they do to a rich boy and his spoiled bitch. In all of this, Zombie Vice Squad and NSFW agree.” Their lips twitched as if in thought, and then pursed into a thin line. Their eyes narrowed to match. “But then I really start to think about your methods. It sounds nice on paper, yeah? We’re here to make the world a better place. We’re here to bring everyone up to our standards. And this is where you guys stop sounding magnanimous and start sounding fucking authoritarian.” John listened intently. He began to speak and his tone was just audible enough for the camera to pick it up. His fingers touched the window lightly.   “Mike. Kowloon, Siberia, they’re as legitimate as tag teams come. Inaugural champions. Impressive pedigree,” maybe perhaps dismissively, he waived that off, “that won’t matter. It never does. Ours didn’t matter. What mattered is one malicious act and three seconds later and our claim to the throne evaporated. But nowadays, you tune in and it's an alphabet soup of irrelevance. Spending precious time talking about anything but Valor Pro. Our little piece of this sport has been overtaken by complaining, petty vengeance, legal proceedings, and the melodrama of who created who.” His shoulders shrugged, eyes still towards the glass. The camera was angled so by Mike that it caught John’s reflection in the window anyway. “Getting away from what matters. Tag team wrestling.” “That’s what it’s all about. That’s all it should be about. If you have some kind of bigger agenda it should be secondary or you’re never gonna win. Not because you ain’t talented. I mean, Kowloon seems to make a point that he worships the Gods of Swole at the Temple of Iron. Dude, you might be cut like a gemstone but that ain’t gonna make a lick of difference. That conditioned body of yours might look nicer than mine…” Mike looked over their bare arms, their toned musculature going taut as they tighten their fists, but the scars of assorted shapes, lengths, and ages standing out even more against their skin. If they were self conscious about them, they were doing their damnedest not to show it. “...but that just means it’ll make a prettier picture when I lay you out flat. Again, I ain’t saying this outta fuckin’ disrespect. I’m sayin’ it cuz that’s what’s going to happen. Of course, you probably think the same damn thing. You’re a lot like me, Kowloon- a two fisted fighter with a temper on you. Which is real interesting, especially when you think about your partner. Siberia, as cool a customer as my partner. It’s almost like you two are some weird alternate universe version of us.” They smirked a little. “In another circumstance? It’d be cool to get to know you better. You two… probably all four of you… sound like you’ve been through fresh fucking hell. You smell like smoke cuz you’ve walked through fire. We can relate. We saw what you said about us before- you were smart enough to see through Berlin and Brenna’s bullcrap and we like that too. We could almost be friends, or at least allies. Least… till we start falling short of whatever gold standard you’ve set for humanity in fuckin’ general.” “We aren’t those two. Whatever they have outside of all of this clearly did not translate well as a tag team.” A slight curve of his lips appeared in the reflection. A tiny bit of him felt the development was serendipity as Brenna’s biting words had been silenced in such a casual fashion. But most of all, he felt the act was cruel. “And who would doubt the tenacity of the inaugural Chimera Tag Team Champions? In one form or another, the Zombie Clan buzzsawed their way through a myriad of now imploded, temporary, and dearly departed teams to secure that honor. But we aren’t them either.” “You may come kinda close, but the fact remains- there ain’t no one like us but us. Where others falter and fall back, we stand tall. We’ve seen teams come and go- hopefully the ones here’ll have a bit more fuckin’ longevity than the ones from where we left. We call things as we see ‘em, and never mince words or shy away from calling people out where it’s warranted. But Church and me, we would never be so fuckin’ self important, so dismissive of peoples’ fuckin’ free will, that we would go about whooping the tar ouf of people who didn’t live the way we thought they should.” Mike’s jaw set, eyes flashing a bit. There’s a slight quaver in their voice- not from lack of constitution, but from trying to keep their voice at an airplane-appropriate volume. “People are gonna do stupid shit. Stuff that’s maybe not that great for them. Or the people around them. They’re gonna… I dunno. Snort a line of coke off the giant yet perky titties of a military themed stripper named Major Gunns while totally blasted off Jaeger Bombs at the Pink Cannonballs in Orlando, Florida. Is that a good course of action? Probably fucking not. Do they deserve to get their teeth kicked in until they course correct? Fuck. No. Learning from bad life experiences is part of being fucking human. If everybody behaved themselves like good little drones under threat of beratement or beatings, it’d be under duress and nobody would ever learn a fucking thing.” For a moment, John turned to Mike, giving them a curious eyebrow raise to this oddly specific tale. He had a question on the tip of his tongue but with the camera on, he felt it better to barrel on through. “So spare us the moralizing. The Zombie Clan has aspirations to spread itself far and wide. And as of now, things seem to be working.  And while we respect those aforementioned accomplishments, Mike and I find it interesting that there seemed to be little resistance to when those championships were stolen from the Clan. Seemingly content with moving on to other matters. As vague and mysterious as those are, it seems a bit strange that Zombie Vice Squad rides again after we walked into this company … stepping over them.” Mike tisked, shaking their head. “And you could say that wasn’t your fuckin’ fault and I’d believe it. We know what happened and we already touched on it. That wasn’t a gaffe on you guys’ part, that was you getting screwed. But you know what WAS a gaffe on you guys’ part? Kowloon kapowing Siberia’s cute blue-haired butt right out of the ring during the Rite of Kings battle royal. Now, accidents happen, fuck knows. Kowloon, you seemed pretty fuckin’ distraught about it. But one’s gotta wonder…” They tapped their temple, a cheshire cat-like grin playing over their features. “...how does Miss Siberia feel about that? I wouldn’t blame her for being a tad bit fuckin’ miffed at you.” “We aren’t trying to create any dissension,” John’s smile was wry, “Trust us on that. Maybe that’s all been ironed out. Understand that we aren’t here to play for other prizes. There is only one that matters.” “No split vision here. My partner doesn’t have his sights on the Apex- let Callum and Cross and Cooper squabble about that shit. I don’t have my sights on the Unleashed Title- though honestly I’d love to fucking fight Aoki just to see how I do. The Chimeras are all we want. They’re worth being all we want. Those beautiful babies deserve better than to be someone’s second choice.” “They deserve better than to be held by a team that can’t go one week without bickering for the most inane reasons.” John’s thoughts went towards their defeat and despite the measure of comeuppance served to one Dakota Jennings, both of them were still empty handed. “But our claim to those championships has expired and we need to earn that chance all over again. Can’t think of a better way to make our case, Mike.” “Just call us a couple of zombie hunters. We know exactly what we need to do.” There’s that shark grin. Mike leaned into the shot, their devilish look filling up nearly the entire picture. “Look out for the teeth and aim for the fucking head.” The shot lingered on that grin another moment before the picture clicked off.