#and then we went into a cave that had his spare sword and this weird underground group of agents of his? 🤣

[beastsovrevelation]

I've been having weird ass dreams about Archangel Michael, so I thought I'll make some random headcanon posts about him, and a love interest... Question is, is she human, or demon... Just the Biblical version, but they'll probably work for at least some media versions, too. But, it's male Michael, so my Good Omens mutuals might be disappointed.

Listen, it's blasphemy, I... Would be doing the work a sinner should do.

[katsukavi]

"OH SHIT!" part 1

It's an Omega Jin-Woo x Alpha Male Reader. It's titled "oh shit" because they keep falling into more and more pain, but end up falling for each other. This is part 1!

THE STRONGEST HUNTER, Sung Jin-Woo was mistaken to be an alpha with his build and strength but he was an omega. It made sense back then when he was an E-Rank hunter, but now that he changed greatly and it was nearly impossible to distinguish him from Alphas from a glance.

That was the S-Rank (L/n) (M/n)'s mistake. He had thought that his best friend was an Alpha his entire life, going on a 'sleepover' and going out to drink. Stupid move yes, but male omegas are rare — making it less likely in (L/n)'s head for Jin-Woo to be an omega.

Anyways, this.. this was a horrendously severe mistake an Alpha and an Omega could do. Two idiotic adults spending time alone.

"What the hell?" (M/n) rubbed his eyes, his other hand trapped underneath Jin-Woo's waist. He could feel bare skin underneath the blanket, making him retract his hand almost immediately.

'What the fuck?! What the fuck!?!' he thought repeatedly, confused on why he and his friend were naked. Sung Jin-Woo groaned, taking the blanket and covering himself in his sleep; the only thing he could do to stay warm.

(M/n) took a deep breath, turning away from the sight and walking away. "Nothing happened. We just got drunk.. Definitely. 100%.." he told himself, trying to stay optimistic as he slid something on— continuing with his morning routine.

But it still lingered at the back of his mind, even while making breakfast. What the hell happened that night?

"What time is it?" Jin-Woo exited the room, groggily scratching his stomach. "It's 11am.. Aaand, it looks like you found my favorite black shirt.." (M/n) mentioned, putting eggs on his plate.

"My clothes are missing so I'm borrowing this for a while," Jin-Woo rested on the table, his head and body aching in pain. "Eat this. It's good for hangovers," (M/n) threw a banana towards him, Jin-Woo catching it easily.

(L/n) sat down, glaring daggers at Jin-Woo in silence. The Shadow Monarch didn't spare any concern, still chewing on his fruit. Or was a banana even a fruit? It was like (M/n)'s dilemma, was the banana sitting across him a fruit(Alpha) or a vegetable(Something else).

"H-Hey.. Jin-Woo," (M/n)'s hands trembled, doing his best to seem composed. "...What are you?"

The question was vague, both of them sitting in silence before Jin-Woo swallowed his meal. "I'm an S-Rank Hunter."

(L/n) calmed down, trying to forget his worries. It's impossible, someone as strong as Sung Jin-Woo couldn't be an omega. Besides, they were both male so it's not possible in the slightest. The possibility was slimmer than a sheet of paper.

Sung Jin-Woo, a powerhungry bastard did not know why his friend acted so unnerved that day. In fact, he just didn't care. With his immunity to alcohol, he could remember a few glimpses of that incident and just accepted it.

It is what it is. If it's not a fight, he does not care.

It's not like he could get pregnant. (L/n) (M/n) was more of a Beta-type person if he said so himself. He was neutral with everything and is less agressive than the Alpha males he's met. He was a chill dude overall. He calms Jin-Woo down like a beta would.

Besides, he confirmed that on (M/n)'s hunter wikipedia page. They were totally safe.

That's what he thought.

"Holy Fuck—!!" (M/n) stepped back, watching Sung Jin-Woo vomit his lunch right in front of him. "Are you okay?!" He dropped his rapier, immediately rushing to aide his companion. He used his skill, a bright red blast defeating all the monsters in the vicinity.

"My Liege?!" Beru shouted, worrying about his health. Other shadows gathered around, worried about their master's condition. "I'm fine.." Jin-Woo said, wiping the spew from his mouth.

"Yeah right! I just saw you vomit Niagra Falls right there. You're going home," (M/n) grabbed his shoulders in a commanding manner, feeling that someone so valuable shouldn't be in dangerous territory that moment.

"Igris, take him home.." (M/n) looked back, the aura around him turning heavy. "But Igris is my shadow—" Jin-Woo tried protesting, the dark knight obeying (M/n)'s order instead of his. Jin-Woo wanted to continue fighting too, but he couldn't defy (M/n).

"Eh? (M/n) Hyung, where's Jin-Woo Hyung?" Yoo Jin-Ho came from around the corner, seeing (M/n) alone in that cave. "I sent him home. The bastard was sick," he responded, grabbing his precious rapier from the floor.

He couldn't believe he dropped his beloved sword on the floor like that. He didn't even let anyone touch it with their disgusting hands.

"But he's an S-Rank Hunter too? This isn't even an S-Rank dungeon.. He's fine by himself."

(L/n) (M/n) froze in between putting the blade in it's sheath. Jin-Ho was right, why the hell did he send an S-Rank Hunter home? He even had his own system and multiple shadows, it wasn't like he would die in a measly A-Rank dungeon.

He knew how powerful Jin-Woo was based on his own experiences with a System. That's how they met in the first place. A system collaboration.

"...Just shut up," (M/n)'s voice was sharp, making the Beta tense in fear. "Y-Yes Hyung!" Jin-Ho responded, never seeing the laid back hunter so serious before. Was he finally acting like an Alpha?

[The Orion System applauds the 'Predator; (L/n) (M/n)']

[( ' ▽ ' ).｡ｏ♡]

"Why are you applauding me?" (M/n) glared at the yellow boards of notifications in front of him. He moved the screens away from his view, looking at his ceiling as he felt the empty space beside his bed. 'Jin-Woo was here just four weeks ago..'

His (e/c) eyes went wide, facing away from that empty space. 'He's my friend! I shouldn't be thinking of him like this. He'll probably think I'm weird...'

[You rn: (*♡∀♡) ]

[lol ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)]

"Fuck you Orion or whatever your name is... damn system," (M/n)'s face flushed, hiding himself under his covers. 'Jin-Woo's scent... It smells really good.'

Sung Jin-Woo's condition started to get worse. He drank a few health potions but none of them seemed to be working— only amplifying the effects of it. He tried looking if it was an odd debuff or curse, but none of them seemed to be the cause.

Since he could heal anything himself, he was almost sure not even the hospital could find out what it is. He was absolutely afraid this 'curse' could affect his work life.

"Have you gone to the hospital?" (M/n) asked all of a sudden, making him freeze. "That won't do anything.." he sighed, resting his head on the restaurant table — not feeling the least bit hungry.

"We should go just in case though," (M/n) grabbed some of the meat on his plate, deciding not to waste them. "It's a condition not even a health potion can fix. It probably won't be anything simple to fix by going to a hospital," Jin-Woo murmured.

"There you go with being negative again.. You've been really moody these days, huh Jin-Woo?"

"I wanna die.."

"Mhm, you've been saying that for the past week," (M/n) patted his head, comforting him a bit. "I'm going to eat the rest of your food," he said, trying to taunt some life into Jin-Woo.

"Okay, I'm not hungry.." he said, ignoring (M/n). 'Oh gosh, this is so serious that the power hungry Shadow Monarch gave up on eating??' (M/n) felt a little sorry for the male, continuing to eat his lunch. "Let's go to the hospital."

"You are 2 weeks pregnant. It looks like you have to get on hiatus for at least five months. I know you're an S-Rank hunter, but please think about the life inside you as well."

'What?'

'Pregnant?'

"Jin-Woo, you're an omega?"

"And you're an alpha?"

❝ OH SHIT! ❞

[brax-was-here]

Scarlet Briar: The Seeds of Life Chapter 8

Chapter 8: You Sylvari Are All The Same

Sometimes help doesn’t actually help

Ceara stood just outside the entrance to the cave, looking out over the jungle. The air was heavy and humid as the early morning sunlight peeked through the trees. She barely slept, the fear that these seemingly friendly mordrem could turn on them at a moment’s notice keeping her awake. She watched as a lone mordrem carrying a bow came rushing out of the foliage, passing her swiftly into the cave. Liathlas walked up next to her, followed by Malyck shortly after. It was quite apparent neither of them had gotten much sleep as well.

“That one seemed to be in a hurry.” Liathlas remarked.

“It practically knocked us down in its haste.” Malyck added.

“It must need to use the bathroom.” Ceara dryly quipped, still staring at the jungle. “Well, are we ready?” she looked over her shoulder at her partners.

“Yes.” Malyck glanced at the mordrem standing near the cave entrance. “Let us be away from here quickly.” He whispered. Liathlas nodded in agreement.

“Ceara.” A voice called from nearby. The three turned to see the lead mordrem coming towards them, holding leather bags in one of its rough barked covered hand.

“Your Nightmare Court friends are moving through the jungle heading to the south.” He held the bags out to them.  “Take these. Some supplies we could spare.” They each slowly grabbed one, opening them. The satchels were filled with some pact rations, dried meat, and a small canteen of water.

“You should hurry.” He turned. “The Nightmare Court will not wait for you.” He pointed to a ridgeline rising above the trees in the distance. “The pact camp is just beyond that ridge. I’m sure you will be able to find allies there.”

“Thank you, Mordrem.” Ceara said to him. “I can’t believe I just said that.” she thought to herself. She turned to her companions. “Let’s go. No better time than the present.” The mordrem watched as they hurried off into the jungle.

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The caravan lumbered across the desert region. The sun beat down upon Orla as the dry air provided little protection. Dressed in a simple robe, she was chained to a large hook in the bed of one of the carriages. Her face soured as her thoughts playing over the events the night before.

“The great Amaranda…” she spit thinking about the sylvari that chased her to the desert outpost. “You’ll be my first target once Nafiona takes over the Court. You will pay. Your suffering will be long, dreamer.” She looked off into the distance, staring at a giant vine that protruded from the desert sand, forming a giant arch as its other end was buried deep.

“Mordremoth. Hmph.” She looked at her shackles and tugged at them once again.

“It won’t do me any good to escape now.” She thought to herself. “Nothing but open desert for miles. I might as well sit and enjoy the ride.” She looked behind her over the edge of the carriage.

“Hey guard, how about some water? I’m going to dry up and whither out here in this arid heat.” The priory scholar, a norn woman, cut her eyes up to her for a moment and back to staring straight ahead as she marched along with the caravan.

“Seriously, I’m going to die up here in this sun.”

The guard looked at her again. “Fine.” The guard grunted.  She climbed onto the carriage with her sword drawn. Unslinging her canteen, she tossed it at Orla.

“You do have a heart, after all.” Orla grumbled as she uncapped the canteen. The soldier sat across from her and stared at Orla. Orla took noticed and slowly lowered the canteen from her mouth, replacing the cap.

“So, what is this ‘Nightmare’ actually?” her captor asked.

Orla smiled lightly as she set the canteen down. “It’s a feeling. A feeling of freedom. For us to be who we truly are as sylvari.”

“As you truly are?” The guard looked out over the desert, focusing on one of Mordremoth’s giant vines in the far distance.

“Yes. We should not be bound by some rules written by a long dead centaur. Instead, we live freely. Unbound.”

The guard turned her attention back to Orla. “Unbound? So, you choose to subvert other sylvari to this “Nightmare” to free them from a hold that the Pale Tree has on them?”

“Yes. We show them the way. Show them that they can be free of the Pale Tree.”

“By leashing them to this Nightmare?”

Orla narrowed her eyes at the guard’s remark. “You don’t understand. You are not sylvari.”

“No, but I do know that it didn’t matter what side of the fence you were on, you sylvari all are minions of the jungle dragon. Dream. Nightmare. Still one and the same. What did it matter?”

Orla stared at the guard.  “I didn’t fall to Mordremoth’s sway. None of us did.”

The scholar raised her eyebrows at Orla’s comment. “Oh? Really? Then you must not have been in the jungle during the campaign. Almost each one of your brothers and sisters turned on us. Very few were able to resist the will of the dragon. Even your leader Faolain fell to the dragon, becoming a monster.”

“It didn’t matter what side they were on.” The scholar continued as she hooked the canteen strap with her sword and pulled it to her. “Nightmare Court or otherwise, you sylvari are still all the same on the inside.” The guard stood and climbed off the carriage.“No…no we aren’t.” Orla muttered as she watched the guard climb down.

“No…no we aren’t.” Orla muttered as she watched the guard climb down.

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Captain Johan Magnusson was a norn of considerable stature and a member of Vigil. He helped fight against the forces of Mordremoth, helping to coordinate the forces as they were scattered, and push back the mordrem assaults. Now he commands an outpost set up to monitor and research the jungle. Sitting at a table in the middle of the camp looking over a map of the region along with some fellow pact members, he heard a voice call out.

“Captain!” Johan looked up to see two pact soldiers escorting a wounded sylvari.

“What is it, Pete? Another one?”

“Sir, this sylvari has some concerning news.” The soldier replied.

“Scar…Scarlet…Briar…she’s here. She lives.” The sylvari stammered.

“What?” Johan quickly stood from the table, practically knocking it over.

“She…she’s trying to revive Mordremoth.”

“What did you just say!?” a gruff voice asked nearby.

“Scarlet Briar…she’s here…in the jungle…” the sylvari turned to a dark furred charr that was approaching.

"Where is she?” he asked.

“She’s to the south. Near the corpse grove.”

“Brom, I want you to take a contingent of troops, and head there. See what you can find out. And be on the the lookout.” Johan ordered the charr.

“Sir, yes sir.” Brom saluted. “I’ve been wanting to get another crack at that twig since that weird crap that went down in Lion’s Arch.” He hurried off and started gathering a unit together.

Johan turned back to the sylvari. “Pete, take this sylvari to the med tent immediately and get him patched up.” The two soldiers ushered the wounded sylvari away.

“Captain Johan, sir if I may.” A sylvari priory member sitting at the table spoke up.

“What is it, Vidar?”

“I feel that sylvari is lying, sir. He is a member of the Nightmare Court.”

Johan looked at him. “How can you tell?” Concern in his voice.

“I’m a sylvari, sir. We can tell who has fallen to Nightmare.”

“Is he lying about Scarlet being here? Or about trying to revive Mordremoth? Or both?”

Vidar looked towards the medical tent. “I would imagine both, sir.” He turned back to Johan. “But if Scarlet is here, I do not think she would be attempting to revive the jungle dragon. Not with the information we have learned in recent times.”

“Then why would she be here?” Johan asked him, a tinge of suspicion in his voice.

“I don’t think she is our enemy this day, Captain.”

“You think the Nightmare Court is planning something?”

“I’m not sure. But we shouldn’t take this matter lightly.”

“Hmm…” Johan turned. “Brom!” he started marching towards the charr. Brom as his squad were ready to head out towards the corpse grove.

“Sir?” Brom replied saluting.

“Be on your guard out there. Scarlet Briar may or may not be in the area. But the Nightmare Court is. They may be up to something, or even in cohorts with Scarlet.” Johan took a deep breath. “Kill them all if you see them.” He muttered under his breath.

“Yes sir!” Brom saluted again.

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“Do you think Fiach made it to the pact camp?” Caelan asked out loud as the Nightmare Court group journeyed southward through the jungle.

“If he didn’t, he deserved his death for failure.” Someone behind him replied.

“That…that is true.” Caelan spoke.

“Is that a tinge of concern I hear in your voice, Caelan?” another sylvari stepped up beside him. “Did that punch from Scarlet knock something loose in that noggin of yours?”

“What? No, of course not. She just got a lucky shot. M’lady sent Fiach to that camp to persuade them to go after Scarlet. If he didn’t make it, then the plan-“

“Watch your tongue, courtier.” Caelan was cut off by Nafiona’s scepter at his throat. “Lest I burn it out of your mouth.”

“I…I’m…forgive me, m’lady.” Caelan stammered as Nafiona leaned in close.

“Never again.” She spoke quietly.

“Ye…yes m’lady!”

Nafiona swiftly turned away from him and continued with the group.

“It will take a few days to reach the dragon’s lair. M’lady.” Ordhram spoke to her.

“I know. I figured it would be the case. The jungle is vast. To think this whole land was the body of the jungle dragon. Every plant. Every tree. Even the smallest blade of grass may have been a part of it. Quite impressive if you think about it. That much power stored within a single entity.”

“And the seed will contain that power.”

“Indeed, it will. Any update on the sword?” she inquired.

“Forging continues, m’lady. It will be ready.” Ordhram responded confidently.

“Good. Once completed it will be the perfect vessel to harness the seeds power.” Nafiona smiled as she breathed in the jungle air, pausing when a strange sensation passed over her.  

“Ordhram, do you feel that?” Nafiona raised her hand to stop the group. “Like…a buzzing…in the air.”

“I do, m’lady.” The group drew their weapons as they looked around their immediate surroundings.

“Forward. We must be cautious.”

“What do you think it is, m’lady?” Ordhram asked.

“I don’t know. But something powerful, I’m sure.”

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Vidar entered into the medical tent, brandishing his staff. He glared at the Nightmare Courtier that was sitting on one of the cots inside, a sylvari mender tending to his wounds.

“Is something the matter?’ the mender asked.

“Leave us, mender. Please. I have a private matter to discuss with our guest.” Vidar said sternly. The mender stood and left the tent. Vidar sat on a cot across from the courtier, who glared at him.

“Why are you in the jungle?” he asked the coutier.

“If you want to know, scholar, maybe you can find out in your stack of books back at that crypt you call a home.” He sneered.

Vidar snickered to himself. “You’re right. I don’t need to know why you are here. But I do know this. You’re lying about Scarlet Briar.”

“Heh. How do you know I’m lying? She’s here in the jungle. I’ve seen her. You do remember that it was she that awoke the jungle dragon, right scholar?”

“I do know. And I do know she was not in control of herself when those events transpired. Just as our brothers and sisters weren’t in control of themselves when we arrived here in the jungle.”

“How do you know she wasn’t in control of herself? How are you so sure?” the courtier asked somewhat whimsically.

Vidar leaned in close, his blue bioluminescence starting to glow. “I’ve seen the horror that controlled Scarlet Briar. She is not here to resurrect the jungle dragon.”

“Is that so, scholar? So tell me, what was it?”

Vidar stood. “If you want to know, perhaps you can look into the Nightmare and find out yourself.”

“Hah! Dreamer, you make me laugh.” the courtier chuckled. “But you won’t be able to stop us. We’ll bring forth a new world for sylvari. A world where we don’t have to be bound to some stupid rules chipped into a stone.”

“Heh, you sound like someone else I used to know.” Vidar said over his shoulder as he walked out of the tent.

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The morning air was warm as the sun breached through the treetops of the sylvari village. Amaranda retrieved her carriage from where she had left it the day before when the courtier arrived. After unloading her things into her home and storing them, she mixed a cup of tea and knelt at the low table. She took a sip as she stared at Ceara’s waypoint device. Setting her cup down, she picked up the device and switched activated it once again, projecting its map in the air in front of her. She slowly moved the map to the east until the dim blip appeared deep in the jungle.

“Widget? Is there anything that we can do to reach Ceara?” she asked the small golem.

“Use-the-closest-waypoint-then-travel-to-her.”

“That doesn’t do me any good.” She rubbed her face sighing heavily. “I should have gone with her. Thorns!” She set the device on the table.

“Maybe-a-communicator?”

Amaranda looked at the golem. “A communicator? What do you mean?” Her brow furrowed slightly.

“Asura-created-a-communicator-to-talk-long-distances.”

Amaranda sighed lightly. “Well, what good does that do me now?” Her shoulders drooped as shefelt slightly defeated.  

“You-can-contact-Ceara-when-you-acquire-them.”

Amaranda looked at the golem displeasingly. “Widget...” She started. The golem beeped a response. Amaranda closed her eyes, lightly shaking her head.

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“I can see the camp from here.” Malyck spoke to his partners as they crested the ridge. Looking off into the distance they could see the various structures nestled on a plateau.

“The perfect spot. Easily defensible and accessible to their coptors.” Ceara noted.

“But also, nowhere to run if the mordrem decide to band together and attack.” He replied.

“Well, hopefully that won’t happen anytime soon.” Liathlas added.

“Well, we’re wasting time while we stand here. Nafiona is on the move and we need to stop her somehow.” Ceara started hurrying through the jungle.

It wasn’t long before they came upon a fortified area.

“Halt!” a voice shouted from behind a gun emplacement. The trio paused, they put their hands up in front of them. A trio of troops stepped out from behind a mound of dirt and wire fence with weapons drawn.

“State your business here.” One of them ordered.

“We’ve come seeking help.” Ceara shouted back at them.

“Help for what?” the guard replied.

Ceara took a deep breath. “We are…we’re…” She paused remembering the conversation with Liathlas a few days before. “We’re travelling to see the dragon egg in the golden city!”

The guards looked around at each other. “What dragon egg?”

“The one delivered by the commander. All of Tyria knows about it!”

The guard turned and spoke something to his compatriots. One of them ran back into the small camp.

“How do you know about the egg?” he asked sternly as he turned back to the trio. “It’s all over the asuranet! We came to offer our respects!” Ceara quipped excitedly.

“It’s all over the asuranet! We came to offer our respects!” Ceara quipped excitedly.

“They aren’t buying this.” Liathlas muttered.

“Shush, you.” Ceara whispered back. A few moments passed and the guard returned. He muttered something to the lead guard and they both turned to the sylvari.

“Ok. Come with us. Keep your hands where we can see them.”

“I don’t like this.” Malyck said quietly as they slowly approached the guards.

“It’ll work. Trust me.” Ceara assured them.

“Famous last words.” Malyck muttered. They walked through a small gate in the fencing where they were met by small group of soldiers.

“Take these three up the hill to the camp.” The lead guard ordered. Three soldiers saluted and motioned for them to start up the path.

“So, what do you do here?” Ceara asked.

“None of your business.” One guard shot back.

“Ouch.” Ceara gasped. “Such manners.” They crested the top of the small plateau reaching the camp. It was large with many tents set up in a circle. The trio was marched to an empty tent.

“Wait here.” One of their chaperones ordered them.

“This isn’t right.” Malyck said to them as he looked at the tent. “There isn’t any other way out of here.” It wasn’t long before a giant of a norn stepped into the tent. He glared down at the sylvari, his eyes settling on Ceara. He pondered a moment before breathing in deep.

“That’s a very fancy looking rifle you have there, sylvari. It looks much more advanced than anything the pact has. What do you plan to do with it?”

“It’s just for my protection. From anything in this jungle.”

“Something that fancy has got to have some power to it. Where did you get it?”

“It was designed by asura in Rata Sum.” She replied, a tad suspicious of the norn.

“Well, we’re going to have to confiscate it. Along with any other weapons you all might have.”

“What?” Ceara asked, her temper starting to rise.

“Why are you taking our weapons?” Liathlas asked as well.

“Scarlet Briar. We know who you are and why you are here in the jungle.” He replied to them. “And you two are her accomplices in this.”

“Vigil, I can assure you, if I were here for mischief and mayhem, I wouldn’t have just walked right up to your camp.” Ceara quipped.

“A ruse.” Johan shot back. “What are you planning?”

“Sir, we are trying to stop the Nightmare Court.” Malyck said to him. Johan turned his gaze to Malyck.

“The Nightmare Court. And what exactly are they trying to do?”

Ceara and Liathlas looked at each other. “They are looking for an item of great power.” Liathlas replied to him.

“Of great power, you say?” He looked at Liathlas. “So how do you know about the egg?”

“Everyone knows about the egg!” Ceara piped up. “It’s all over the asuranet!”

Johan’s face reddened as his anger started to rise. “Who leaked that information!?” He turned and exited the tent. “Pete! You and Jonez take their weapons and put them in the brig for the time being.” He ordered. “And be very cautious with the red. She tries anything, you kill her.”

“Yes sir.” They heard outside.

Ceara’s heart jumped as she heard the command, anger started to fill her chest. “They aren’t taking me that way.”  She growled.

“It’s going to be ok. We can just-“ Liathlas was cut off by the appearance of a portal appeared inside the tent. The trio looked at each other.

“Well, that’s very convenient.” Ceara said snidely.

“Step through it! Hurry!” Liathlas jumped through.

“Wait!” Malyck shouted as Liathlas disappeared. He shook his head and he followed Ceara through. They appeared behind a rock outcropping near the camp. A sylvari in Priory garb greeted them.

“Hail Ceara and company. I couldn’t let them keep you there.”

“Thank you, scholar. What is going on here?”

“A nightmare coutier arrived in the camp not too long ago. He told Johan that you and your friends are here to resurrect the jungle dragon.”      

“What!?” Ceara gasped. “Why in Tyria would I do that after everything that thing did to me!?” She questioned, a look of confusion cast across her face.

“Shhhh, calm down.” Liathlas gently put her hand on Ceara’s arm.

“Yes, I understand what happened to you. It happened to many of us.” Vidar looked out from behind the outcropping to see the Vigil pair leaving the empty tent.

“Johan! The tent’s empty! They escaped!” Jonez shouted as he exited.

“What!? Search the camp! They can’t have gotten far! If they resist, kill them!” Johan commanded, his voice bellowing across the camp. The pact members instantly started systematically searching the area.

“That’s your cue to go. Hurry. Stop the Court from getting the egg.” Vidar turned back to them.

“It’s not the egg they are after, scholar.” Ceara replied back to him.

“It’s not the egg?” Vidar asked, an inquisitive look on his face.

“No, something that could be much worse I believe.” The trio started climbing down the hillside.

“There they are!” a voice shouted in the distance.

“Thorns.” Vidar hissed through his teeth. He projected a stealth field around them, causing the three to disappear from sight.

“Well, since we can’t see each other now, I hope we can follow each other until this wears off.” Ceara quipped.

“Stay close. Keep a hand on each other until we’re clear.” Malyck told them. He felt a hand on his back.

Vidar solemnly returned to the camp. Johan took notice of him and approached with a determined gait.

“Vidar. What did you do?” He glared at the sylvari, his eyebrows knitting in anger.

The sylvari looked up at the Vigil soldier. “I did what I had to do. They are not our enemy. Scarlet Briar is not our enemy.” He replied. He turned his gaze to the medical tent. He could see the coutier looking out at him. “That courtier is.”

“You just aided in the escape of a criminal!” Johan barked at him.

“If she is a criminal, then I am as well.” Vidar replied solemnly.

“Fine. Pete, put Vidar in the brig until we figure out what to do with him.” Vidar felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, let’s go.” Pete said calmly, his voice a sharp contrast to Johan’s gruff stern commands. Vidar’s staff was taken from him as he was marched to a metal cage like structure. He looked at the medical tent again to see the courtier laughing.

“Keep laughing, courtier. This isn’t over.” Vidar muttered.

Johan turned to his subordinate. “Jonez, get the word out to base camp in the dragon’s lair. Tell them that Scarlet Briar is here and is trying to resurrect Mordremoth and to be on the lookout.”

“Yes, sir.” The soldier saluted.

“Also, keep an eye on our nightmare sylvari here. We’ve had to throw one in the brig already for aiding that stick. I’m afraid there might be others wavering as well.” He turned his head to the medical tent. “As a matter of fact, just go ahead and throw that courtier in the brig as well. Be done with it.”

Jonez saluted and pointed at two other soldiers to follow him. They entered the tent to find the courtier laying on a cot. He raised his head to glance at the pact soldiers.

“Grab him.” Jonez ordered.

“What!? What are you doing!?” the courtier shouted as the solders picked him up by the arms. “Let go! Let go of me!” he squirmed to break their grip. “You keep fighting, we’re gonna make life very difficult for you.” One of the soldiers growled. They hauled the courtier to the brig where Vidar was waiting and shoved him inside.

“You keep fighting, we’re gonna make life very difficult for you.” One of the soldiers growled. They hauled the courtier to the brig where Vidar was waiting and shoved him inside.

“Well, it a pleasure meeting you here.” Vidar joked as the coutier picked himself off the ground.

“Heh, since I’m now in the brig, I guess it won’t matter if I kill you.” The coutier grinned.

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Ceara and her group rushed through the jungle quickly, escaping their pact captors. Liathlas kept a stealth field going as much as she could until they were far enough away.

“I can’t…I have to rest…” Liathlas dropped to the ground, exhausted.

Malyck looked around, his eyes settling on the fallen remains of a large tree. “There. We’ll take cover there for the moment.” He helped Liathlas as they climbed up a small incline into a small alcove under the large trunk.

“I guess we can’t rely on any pact help now.” Ceara said, looking out over the jungle.

“Many still don’t trust us.” Liathlas said, sitting on the moss-covered ground trying to catch her breath.

“Can you blame them?” Ceara asked. “After what happened.”

“We’re on our own in this now.” Malyck sat on a log. He unholstered his pistols, inspecting them. 

“What about the frogs? Can’t them help?” Ceara looked at him.

“The Itzel are a peaceful race…mostly. Not willing to take up arms unless their villages are threatened. And some tribes are quite hostile to outsiders.” He thought for a moment. “There is the Nuhoch.”

“The Nuhoch? What is that?” Ceara bit into a food bar. Her face grimaced at the taste.

“Another race that lives deeper in the jungle.”

“Are they friendly?”

“They can be. But they are very suspicious of outsiders. Their trust must be earned.”

“Can we contact them? Where are they?” Liathlas asked.

“Their main village lies far to the southeast. Through very rough and twisted terrain, and the chak. It will take a few days to get there.”

“Chak?” Liathlas replied curiously.

“Giant insect like creatures. They swarm in massive groups.” Malyck responded to her.

“We may not have days to waste travelling there if it’s as dangerous as you say.” Ceara rebuttled. “Nafiona would be making gains towards her target while we would be losing time.”

“Agreed.” Malyck nodded. “Like I said, we’re in this on our own.”

Ceara fell silent as she looked out over the jungle. Her thoughts turned to the dreams and visions she had been having.

“Liathlas?” she asked, turning to the seated sylvari. Liathlas looked up at her. “Have you been having any strange visions or dreams lately?”

“No, not really. The last dream I remember having is being on a sunny beach while men heeded to my every need and plied for my attention. But nothing strange.”

Ceara paused a moment, slightly taken aback. “Well, that seems like a pleasant dream.” She finally muttered, looking at Malyck. He looked back at her and shook his head furiously. “Anyway, I mean strange dreams concerning the pale tree?”

Liathlas pondered for a moment before shaking her head lightly. “No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?”

“It seems I’m the only one having these dreams and visions.” Ceara stared into the distance.

“Perhaps due to what happened to you.” Liathlas said quietly. “You may have a closer connection to everything here than the rest of us.”

Ceara turned to Malyck. “What lies to the south of this region?”

“A golden palace named Tarir.”

“Tarir!?” Liathlas piped up. “That’s where the dragon egg is located!”

“We should steer clear of that area of the jungle then.” Ceara cautioned. “I’m sure it’s crawling with pact members. We don’t need any more headaches from them.”

“Agreed.” Malyck seconded.

“But the egg! It must be magnificent! We should see it!”

“The seed is more important right now. Besides, the pact probably won’t let us anywhere near that egg, let alone the palace itself.” Ceara snapped back. “Who would build a such a place in the middle of the jungle anyway?”

“Glint.” Liathlas replied sternly.

“Glint? The brood of Kralkatorrik?” Ceara questioned. “Well, I guess it is far enough away from anything Kralkatorrik would try to brand. What else is in that direction?”

Malyck glared at Ceara a moment. “Malyck?” she asked, looking at him slightly concerned.

“The lair of the jungle dragon. The place where he was vanquished.”

Ceara felt a fear in her chest she had not felt in a very long time. She looked away at the ground, a swirl of emotions filling her mind. Anger, hate, fear, sadness. Liathlas took note and stood quickly, rushing to her side. She gently placed her hand on Ceara’s arm.

“Hey…it’s ok. He can’t do anything to us now. He’s dead.”

“No…no, it’s not ok.” Ceara felt anxious and afraid. “I can’t…I can’t go there.”

“You belong to me…” Memories of the dragon’s voice boomed through her mind.

“No…”

Liathlas turned to Malyck, who return her glance, himself looking a little confused.  

“No!” Ceara screamed as she covered her face with her hands, dropping to the ground. Liathlas knelt beside her, slowly placing her arms around Ceara. She looked out at the jungle, tears starting to fall from her eyes.

“I did this.” Her voice hoarse. “Just..just leave me be.”

“It wasn’t you.” Liathlas whispered as she slowly released her embrace. She quietly stepped away and stood next to Malyck. He looked at her about to ask a question when Liathlas motioned him to stay silent.

“It’s a story best not to tell right now.” She whispered to him.

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Vidar hands started to glow with ethereal energy as he squared off with the courtier.

“It would be best for you to stand down, courtier.” He warned his opponent.

“Scholar, your little parlor tricks won’t affect me.” The courtier lunged at Vidar, who gestured instantly. The courtier fell as bonds of energy wrapped around his feet, tripping him. The courtier screamed in rage as he broke free and charged at the scholar. Vidar sidestepped into a portal, appearing outside of the cage.

“What’s going on here?” an asuran pact member came running towards them.

“Your little scholar here attacked me.” The courtier replied instantly, sounding perturbed.

The asura looked at Vidar, who turned his glare away from the cage to the guardsman. “Vidar, you have to get back in the cage.”

“At least make it a different cage.” The sylvari spoke calmly.

“Why is Vidar out of the brig!?” He heard Johan’s voice shout behind him.

“Sir.” The asura turned to him. “There is a concern that the courtier here tried to kill him. I would suggest that we place Vidar in a separate area to serve out his time.

“You do realize your Vidar here used a portal to escape, right?” The courtier remarked snidely.

“I have no intention of purposely escaping from my jail. But you, courtier, are a different matter. Why don’t you tell us what your Nightmare Court friends are after if not Tarir?”

“Tarir? What is Tarir?”

“That’s enough.” Johan ordered. “Trilla, put Vidar in a different cage. And Vidar, don’t think of using a portal to escape again. I would hate to have to order you killed on sight.” Johan watched as the asura marched Vidar to another jail cell nearby, before turning back to the courtier. He stared at him intently, the courtier returning his glare.

“So, what are you after?” Johan asked.

The courtier laughed. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

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Images played through Ceara’s mind. The eternal alchemy, the face of Mordremoth, her battles against Tyria.

“Focus.” She gasped quietly. “Focus.” She closed her eyes and turned her thoughts to the mender that saved her life, his calm soothing voice she heard as he cared for her. She thought of her sister Amaranda.

“Amee…” she whispered. “Help me.” She thought about all the things she had done with Amaranda. How her sister had helped her through previous bouts of these same feelings. She remembered Amaranda’s voice, speaking softly as she held her. The sounds of the river flowing near Amaranda’s home. Ceara’s breathing slowed to a steady rhythm, her heartbeat slowing. She stayed kneeling on the ground as she cleared her mind, focusing on the peaceful sounds of the forest outside of Amaranda’s home. Slowly opening her eyes, the jungle came into focus, her breathing deep.

“Are you ok?” Liathlas asked sheepishly.

“I’ll be fine.” she replied softly, her voice choking.

“Are you well enough to keep travelling?” Malyck also asked.

Ceara rose to her feet slowly. “I have to be.”

[pufferfishtrash]

The Dragon and its four Bastards

Inspired by: https://biggest-gaudiest-patronuses.tumblr.com/post/639693856032620544/a-dragon-finds-a-clutch-of-goose-eggs-and-attempts

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Start of part one The eggs   It was late at night when the dragon decided to do its sheep raid on the wool farmers within the town below its lair. The dragon always chose to strike at night as to not bother the farmers' work in the morning and evening, as the dragon knew that it's the prime time of day for sheep care and the possibility for more sheep in the future. For the rest of the town, it did not care for them other than to keep it from being damaged, knowing that if the town were harmed, who would care for their delicious scrumptious snacks?   As the night went on while the creature swooped down and caught a sheep within its maw, killing it with a quick movement of its jaw. It flew a bit further away from the rest of the sheep in silence, as to eat in peace without having to deal with bleating creatures. As it began to bite and tear into the wooly beast below its sharp teeth, its eyes began to wonder, keeping a look out for anyone who may disturb its weekly treat. As it gazed around in between bites, its observant sight caught something a bit odd not too far from it. Curiosity seemed to spark within its large eyes before it finally scarfed down the rest of the sheep in a hurry as to allow it to investigate the curious thing in the dark.   It slowly stalked in the dark blanket of the night as its eyes focused in on these glowing white orbs in the moonlight, and not long after, it approached these… things. It sniffed and gently nudged them with its snoot and to it, seemed like eggs. It only knew this as in the earlier years of its life, it saw these eggs but they didn’t meet a happy end as they were either eaten or trampled by creatures and animals alike. It glanced around once more before carefully picking up each egg into its mouth to carry it away back to its home.   Once arriving, it placed the eggs within its nest of hay and other shiny soft things, opening its maw and carefully letting the eggs roll out onto the fluff of bedding it had made a while ago. Looking at the eggs more, they were large compared to the ones it had seen with the humans… but it didn’t matter, this dragon was determined to keep them safe and hopefully to hatch them. It never had to deal with something so delicate before other than sheep and shiny trinkets that it came across, but eventually one would be eaten and the other tossed onto a pile of other things. But this… these were eggs, eggs are delicate and could easily be smashed to bits underneath this dragon's weight, so it couldn’t possibly lay on them like a bird.   Then an idea came to the dragon… It would simply lay next to the eggs after gently placing some soft bedding over the said eggs, it hoped that being near them was enough warmth for them. And so, it laid down for the night, carefully wrapping itself around the eggs and slept. It would repeat this as many times needed before absolutely having to go out to get more food, which wouldn’t be for at least 2 months. The town found this odd but at least more of their sheep would be spared, than having the dragon come once a week.   Time went on and eventually, one fateful morning… it heard soft cracks and quiet chirps coming from the pile of fluff that it surrounded. Its eyes opened and looked down at the fluff, watching it move around before a tiny creature popped its head out, then another, and another… So many tiny weird looking creatures. They stared at each other before the dragon gently blew on them to have the fluff flow away from these tiny things, just so they could move more freely.   It watched them sit there, and they looked at the dragon. It was strange, but it felt proud to have four of these things. Then, said things began to peck and nip at things around them, they then began to peck at the dragon and it let out a tiny huff. It stood tall and carefully walked away from these tiny creatures, making its way out of the cave and flew away, leaving them behind.   The dragon soon returned, having something for them to eat. Thus began the dragon and its four little goslings' relationship between mystical beings and fiends. As the weeks, months and years went on, the geese left home to live on their own, leaving the dragon in its lair alone, allowing the geese to do whatever they damn pleased. The dragon simply raised them to be fearless and to show them what to do with the power of flight and so on… teaching them to be their own goose. And they were their own goose… causing mayhem on the town near the dragon's lair. End of part one ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Start of part two Where it starts   The geese were a bit smarter than their parent but they respected their elder, the dragon did raise them after all. As the geese stepped their web-foot out onto the world, it was a different game… and they were the game changers. They waddled around for a while, exploring their new area with its brethren. Exploring and seeing how things worked. That's when the goose gang came across two humans talking, they couldn’t understand their language but they saw one of them holding a picture of their beloved dragon with its eyes crossed out and a sword through its chest.   These two humans were talking before one nodded their head and the other shook their hands together in some sort of agreement before they were handed a bag of gold. This wasn’t gonna fly with the geese… not one bit. All four could only see red before one went and flew up, snatching the bag of gold and flying off, while another snatched the picture and tore it up in anger… while the other two geese let out a mighty honk before attacking the humans, biting and pecking them as much as they could. They drew blood. When the humans retreated, the people who were in the streets to witness such an act of anger, began to run and scream in terror as the gang of geese began to fly around in search of anything that might even hint at harm towards their parent. They were on a warpath… and they were going to win. End of part two ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Start of part three They are geese, who are also bastards.   After causing months of rampage on the town below the dragon's lair, news spread to other towns and villages of flying creatures terrorizing the people in this strange town. As word of mouth is, things began to change and eventually it was said that there were dragons terrorizing this town. Eventually this news came to a knight one fateful evening as he was called upon to deal with the issue. He arrived on horse back to an empty, almost abandoned town. Looking around, it was odd, the silence almost deafening except for a few flapping sounds in the far distance. He could only assume it to be those pesky dragons he’s heard so much about.   He then stopped in front of a tavern to tie up his horse by the trough and entered. He glanced around and sat down, as he did, another man approached him and sat across from him “You’re the knight, correct?” the lesser dressed man said. The nicer dressed man answered “I am, and you are?” He raised a slight brow in confusion. “I am the mayor of this town, I was the one who sent for you, to help us with the… four bastards” He said with a frown. “There's four of them?!” He said rather shocked. “Yes, I thought you knew… but that's alright, if you could, I’d like to take you to them so you could… you know… do what you do”   The knight looked perplexed and then chuckled. “You mean slay the foul beasts” He said before standing up with a smirk as he rubbed his chin in thought. “I think I could take on all four by myself… but I’d like to know… what kind of beast are they? I need to know so I can deal with it properly” The mayor simply gave him a strange look. “Before I answer, what kind of ‘beast’ do you think I sent you for?” He crossed his arms as he looked up at the now standing man. The knight squinted his eyes a bit before lightly shaking his head and letting out a light sigh. “You sent for me because you had a dragon problem? Or is this some other crazy beast in your midsts?” The mayor groaned lightly as he tilted his head back in his seat before he looked back at the other. “We do have a dragon, but they’re not the problem… they do take a sheep or two once a week but they don’t do anything really other than that” He paused and took a deep inhale. “Listen… don’t laugh at this until I’m done explaining. See, our problem is the four geese that suddenly appeared in our town a few months ago” The man before him looked… curious and sat down and crossed his arms and legs as if to say ‘go on’ and so, the mayor did. “They attacked a few of the townsfolk, we haven’t really found out the reason as to why but their attacks were so vicious that we had to hospitalize a few people besides them” He shuddered. “They didn’t stop at the attacks… they would work together and cause issues for people all over town, like a craftsman with his harmer on the roof, he couldn’t get to it because they took his ladder and placed it in a middle of our lake… and then took his boat and put the boat in his tallest trees” The knight listened, eyes closed and nodding until the last bit with the craftsman. He looked almost impressed as he opened his eyes and furrowed his brow. “And have you really tried to do everything you could to get rid of these… geese?” He asked with almost a laugh in his voice, but he forced the laugh down and tried his best to act serious. “Yes, we actually tried to form a hunting party but these geese are nothing like we've seen before… they were always a step ahead of us” He explained. “The night before our hunt, they somehow got into our houses and took our weapons, tossing them into the lake as well as… well, there was bird crap everywhere… even on the ceiling for God's sake! And as for our hunting dogs… lets just say they are afraid of any kind of bird in our area” He shook his head. “I see…” He looked down at the table in front of him and shook his head with a heavy sigh. “Fine, I’ll slay these geese, but I request to keep them as trophies along with the pay” The mayor smiled and nodded eagerly and stood up, grabbing the other man's hands with both of his and shook it furiously. “Of course, of course!! We don’t want anything to do with these damned bastards anymore, you got yourself a deal!” What the knight didn’t know… was what he just signed himself up for.   As soon as the knight was paid, the mayor led the man out of the tavern and he was going to grab the horse before the mayor stopped him. “They would attack anything, I recommend not to bring your horse” He gave him an annoyed look before sighing and turned around to face him. “Fine” He then marched after the Mayor all the way until they reached a barn house that was the closest to the mountain. The barn looked abandoned and looked heavily damaged… The mayor stopped far away from it and looked anxious. “You go ahead… once you’re done here, come back to the tavern…” And then, he ran off, leaving the knight alone at this strange place.   He took a few steps forward before drawing his sword out… slowly making his way to the barn house, looking around. The tension in the air was thick as everything fell silent once the mayor was out of sight and earshot. He didn’t hear the flapping in the distance as now it was nightfall, the sun going down and the light almost gone. ‘These are simply geese… I should be finished before the sun is fully gone for the day’ He thought rather confidently. Once he stepped into the barn, it looked empty except further down across from him was a nest and inside he could see black, white and brown feathers… ‘Bingo’ he thought as he crept his way towards the nest.   They were asleep, or at least that's what he assumed ‘This will be easy..’ He raised his sword, nearly above his head as he took his last final steps to the nest with the supposed sleeping geese… He only paused when he stepped on a stick, a stick that was astray from the nest. The cracking sound it made, echoed within the barn and then darkness fell upon it. The sun had gone down sooner than he thought as he held his breath. He then heard a loud flapping sound of wings behind him, he turned around and came face to face with a goose. He jumped and dropped his sword as he let out a loud shout in surprise. This awoke the other three geese who were in the nest behind him.   It was time. The goose in front of him let out a warrier cry like honk and charged forward to protect its brethren. The knight, being trained in the arts of battle, he was quicker than the goose sadly and ducked as it flew over head, missing him barely. He rolled and grabbed a hold of his sword again and stood quickly from his position off the floor, then… he charged the goose as it turned around in the air to go in for another attack. He swung his sword and slammed it against the goose, knocking it out of midair, causing it to let out a loud honk of pain as it fell onto the floor. He ran over to it and raised his sword to go and stab it, just before he could, he felt something tugging on his hair, on the back of his head. It was another goose! How could he forget that there were four of them??! ‘Damn it!’. He gritted his teeth and chose to attack that goose for now and slapped it away.   The goose then simply bit his hand. HARD. Biting a finger off and flying away as another goose came to attack him. He shrieked in pain at the loss of a finger but at the moment he had to focus on the fight. So far, he had counted 3 geese… ‘Where was the fourth?’ That didn’t matter for now… as the third one attacked his head, he turned back to the first and stabbed down with his sword and his eyes closed. He heard a shrieking honk of pain before it died out into silence from that goose. The goose attacking his head then bit his nose and he shouted before now randomly swinging his sword around as he backed away. The attack from the geese ceased as he backed into something behind him, it didn’t feel like a wall, and so he turned around quickly with his eyes open now.   He gaped at the creature he saw in front of him. Taking a few quick steps back as he stared up at the beast… It was the dragon, It stood tall with three geese on its shoulders, staring smugly down at the knight. The fourth goose had gotten the damn dragon from the mountains. ‘How was that possible??? What the hell is going on anymore??!!!’ The large dragon stared down at the knight with a cold stare as it simply glanced between him and the goose who laid motionless a few feet away… The dragon's eyes seemed to gloss over, seeing this poor goose… Its baby. It then looked back at the knight with a stare that could kill and it moved forward towards the knight with a loud roar, the geese moving into formation to attack when ready.   The knight also moved toward the dragon, but he wasn’t expecting its attack as it swung its tail around, hitting the knight into his side, causing him to go flying and slamming right into the barns wall. He then kept going as he broke through the wall and hit the ground, his sword out of hand. The wind was knocked out of the man as he laid wheezing on the ground… While the knight was recovering, the dragon quickly made its way towards the goose who was on the ground, not moving. It let out a low and soft sound as it tenderly nuzzled its child with its snoot, the rest of its children gathered around, looking worriedly at their brethren.   After gently moving the goose around, the dragon's heart broke as it let out a cry of agony at the loss of its gosling… Suddenly, it heard footsteps rushing back and a loud war cry as it felt a sharp pain within its side. It lets out a mighty roar in pain as it was stabbed by the knight… it collapses in sadness and in pain… feeling its emotions hit it over and over again. The knight cheered in victory but it was short lived as the dragon, in its last attempts to protect the rest of its loved ones… attacked the man with its claws, piercing the man in his chest. It pulled back and stared at the man, both in the same state of pain. The man's smile fell to a frown as he fell to his knees and held his chest, wheezing.   He looked up at the dragon, his vision getting blurry as he began to speak. “Eye for an eye… heh… damn geese” He then collapsed to the ground, not quite dead but he wasn’t causing damage anymore. The dragon then simply curled around the lost gosling and let out a soft breath before closing its eyes. Its other goslings let out a few quiet honks before leaving and heading off somewhere. The dragon felt tired… in fact, so tired that it fell asleep. The battle was finished and it was won, but at what cost? End of part 3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Start of part 4 The ending  The dragon awoke to a strange sight before it… it glanced around, seeing that it was still within the barn, the knight was gone and so was its gosling. It began to panic and moved to fly but it was stopped by something holding its wings in place. It looked at itself and saw that it was bandaged up… then right beside it was a young man, who had stood up from his seating position with his hands up. The dragon squinted its eyes before settling back down with a slight scoff, but kept its eyes on him. The human then spoke. “I’m the witch from the forest near your town… these geese had brought me here to you and… the other goose” He paused for a moment “They found me while I was looking for herbs in the nearby area…” he explained. “And when I came here and saw all of these” he gestured to the barn “I figured out what to do… I saved the goose and you, and the human as well” The dragon tensed at the mention of that human, it sent the witch a deathly glare.  The man gulped and let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sure he won’t bother you anymore… I promise, just relax and take it easy, I’ll go get your geese” He said before leaving the area to go outside. The dragon listened quietly to the honking outside and a few flapping sounds before the small gang of geese came in honking excitedly as they reached their parent. The man then came in with its gosling that it thought it had lost. The dragon smiled, seeing that the goose's wing was the part that was stabbed as its wing was wrapped as well. “Here’s your goose delivery” The witch smiled, he placed the healing goose next to the dragon. The other geese joined the dragon except for one, that one went to the witch and gave him a bag of gold The witch gave a rather confused look between goose and gold, ‘How did this goose get a bag of gold?’ but he wasn’t one to complain and hummed lightly before turning around to leave.  “I wish you five good luck… you’ll be fine by tomorrow, rest well” The mysterious witch left and disappeared out of sight.  The geese and the dragon had survived this attack… What happened in the end was the knight retired, the town gave up on any attacks or future plots against the damn geese and dragon as they later found out what started the fights in the first place… The dragon and the people made a somewhat agreement with the help of the witch, he helped translate loosely as to what was to be done. The deal was that the geese and dragon were to be left alone, as well as having sheep and other foods given to them once a week, in return the dragon and geese would protect the village from creatures and other things. That is the end of The Dragon and its four Bastards. I hope I did alright, I don’t write fighting very much. And I hope it was to everyones liking... If you have any critisism, or advice, please do share them with me :D

[flying-nightwing]

Dark Fox (4/7)

Hiiiiiiiii people! So there’s a LOT of action in this one, and also comedy relief featuring the batfam. Major foreshadowing as well, so enjoy! 

No proofreading we die like bastards.

Previous - Next 

Pairing: Jason x League!Reader

Word Count: 6819

Warnings: same as the others

Jason’s progress became even more obvious as spring rolled by. You had access once again to that clearing in the middle of the blooming nature, and the days were once again becoming longer. He would still complain about training--you didn’t think you could ever stop him from doing so--but he wouldn’t lash out like he used to. 

“Are you ever going to stop doing that?”

You smirked at his exasperation after you rolled away from his swing. Once again, you were playing it passive.

“When you’ll stop falling for it”

There was a focused calculation in his eyes, like he was trying to find out a solution to beat you. He was analysing your movements; you had noticed him doing that a lot more lately. You blocked his sword, but this time, instead of attacking again, he twisted yours and sent it flying away. He threw his beside it and engaged in hand to hand combat, forcing you out of your passive strategy.

Finally.

His hits came flying fast, but they were controlled. He moved fluidly around you, imposing his rhythm. You had to be much more proactive to avoid receiving devastating hits, as it dragged you out of your zone of comfort. You had to try and change the rhythm, risk exposing yourself to try moves to slow him down. 

His expression soon turned playful. He was enjoying this version of the fight way more, as he was clearly in his element. His strength was kept in check and so was his anger. It was a far cry than the first time he had disarmed you, for this time he wasn't trying to kill you, or strangle you. 

He got you on a high kick, as he thought fast enough to grab your ankle and yank you. You tried to pull yourself up and wrap your legs in a chokehold, but his roll forward sent you on the ground. He offered you a hand to stand up, and you took it. 

"I'll be damned" You said, dusting yourself up. "You've finally stopped falling for it"

"Huh?" He frowned, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. The sun was particularly hot that day, even if it was still early in the year. Jason was in an old ripped t-shirt, and you had ditched most of your league gear beside the pants and boots. You simply had your long sleeve base layer, which still elicited comments from Jason on how weird it was seeing you "peeled off".

"You took control of the fight without lashing out" You explained. All that time you had been teaching him restraint and how to focus his emotions rather than let them dictate his actions, and he had proved he could put it all in practice. "I've been trying to get you to that point for months"

"So no punishment for not beating you with a sword?" He raised his eyebrows, skeptical. 

"Don't be ridiculous" You scoffed. "You couldn't beat me with a sword"

"Wow"

"It was about time you finally figured that out" You teased. "Recognize your enemy's strength, and don't let them use it to dictate the fight. You decide how it goes, not the opposite"

"So next time I can disarm you in any fight?" He joked.

"Next time I'll be the only one to have a sword" You replied, carefully watching the shift in his expression, from smug to concerned. "Now we can begin real training"

"Real training?"

--------

The gym in the cave had a strong echo.

The glass cage around the sparring surface made it even worse, trapping the sounds to bounce around. Every hit of the wooden escrima sticks, every grunt of effort or every roll on the floor reverberated back to you. But you would mostly tune it out, your focus solely on Jason in front of you. 

Your duel was conducted at high intensity. Neither of you spared the other in your hits, and all sneaky moves were allowed. It was fast paced and violent, but that's how you rolled. You were used to it with him, you knew his limits and he knew yours. And you were nowhere close to them.

However, to any outsider, it would look like you were in a real fight. If you had your side open, he would hit your ribs. You would either target the back of his knees or try and elbow his stomach if you got him to raise his arms a bit.

When he missed a pace, you hit his wrist, making him drop his stick. You blocked the one remaining in his left hand with your left and rested the other on his cheek, before taking a step back and spinning them both. 

"Did she just fucking beat Todd?"

You turned around to face the small public your fight had attracted. Dick and Tim were there, looking baffled. You threw Jason his towel and grabbed yours, wiping down the sweat on your face and escrima sticks. 

"Of course she did"

A new voice warranted your attention. Down the stairs came a face that was familiar, but that you hadn't seen in a long time. Bruce Wayne followed suit.

"Mother wouldn't have chosen anyone as her right hand"

Two pairs of wide eyes glanced back at you. 

"You're--"

"You know--"

"Yeah you dipshits" Jason mused as he strutted out of the cage with you in tow. "I got my League training from Talia's number one champion"

"You're quite skilled, I see" Bruce jumped in the conversation. You glanced at him. "Would you agree to a duel? In between League trainees?"

"I never refuse a duel" You said, putting down your towel and escrima sticks. 

"Oh yes" Jason's eyes sparkled up as he walked toward you. You exchanged a smirk. "I've got to see this"

"If you're doing a League match up, I want in" Damian stepped up as well.

"FUCK YES" Jason now looked extasic while Dick and Tim looked concerned, yet curious. 

You rolled your eyes and waited for Bruce and Damian to choose their weapon before stepping up to the rack. You grabbed two identical swords for dual wield, tested them in your hands and faced the men again. You could almost hear their minds thinking of your choice of weapon as bold, but you didn't care. 

“Shall we?” You gestured to the glass cage. You watched as Damian enthusiastically went first, sending you a smirk. Last time you had sparred with him, he had been a child. Now he was a bit older, and you suspected his technique only had gotten better. You had no idea what to expect of Bruce, however, who paused in front of you before following suit. 

You went in last and watched them warm up their movements with their own sword. You noticed also Jason, Dick and Tim got closer to the glass, all a different expression on their face.

“I can’t wait to see Bruce’s ass kicked” Jason said, his arms crossing over his chest.

“What?” Dick scoffed. “No way she can hold him, let alone the two of them”

“They were both trained by Ra’s” Tim added. “I’m with Dick on this one. It’s not because she kicked your ass that she can kick theirs as well”

“Just watch and learn” Jason wasn’t fazed by their comments. "They can't beat her with a sword"

Bruce and Damian finished their warm ups and positioned themselves in front of you.

“I hope you won’t hold back” The older Wayne said as he spun his sword in his hand. “Because we won’t”

You smirked and lowered yourself in a fighting position, holding up your swords. “I wasn’t planning to” 

They both launched their first attack in sync, and you blocked both of their sword with yours crossed over your head. You paused there for half a second and made eye contact with both of them, before you pushed their sword back and attacked at your turn. The clang of the metal was fast, but barely enough to follow the speed of your moves. You relied mostly on your instincts and on where you predicted each blade would be aimed next. 

You bent to avoid Damian’s sword and used his open side from his swing to deliver a kick, sending him stumbling back. You had to immediately roll away from Bruce’s sword, which came your way at full force. You spun around and blocked his hit again, holding the blade and twisting it to make him lose balance. It almost worked, but he dropped it before crouching and catching the hilt lower. He threw himself back on his forearms to avoid your elbow, and propelled himself back upright. You chained two round kicks, which he blocked with the flat side of his sword. Then, Damian came back in the fight, but you had seen him coming from behind. You vaulted out of the way and his sword collided with Bruce’s instead.

Meanwhile, the boys were still watching on the side, their attention unwavering. Jason was still grinning, while the other two were trying to process the fact that you could easily keep up with them.

“Am I finally overdosing on caffeine,” Tim spoke up, glancing down at his coffee. “Or is it actually supposed to be that fast?”

“It’s… Not supposed to be that fast” Dick blinked a few times. 

“Told ya” Jason teased, sending a quick glance to his brothers, then returning it to the fight. 

Bruce and Damian where now coordinating against you, timing their attack to force you on the defensive. You had to have always one sword up above you to block attacks, and the other swinging to protect your side and middle. You knew you wouldn’t last long like this, so you pulled out your wild card. You dropped down, crouched with one leg extended on your side for balance, brought your sword in a X shape in front of you and opened them again in a 180 degree sweep motion. 

It was like time slowed. Both of their eyes widened as they realized your move, Damian reacting a bit faster as he had seen it before. He vaulted back out of the range of your sword before it could reach him, while Bruce had to jump last second so his kneecaps wouldn’t be reaped. You took the moment of their stupor to pull yourself to your feet again and point your swords at both their throat.

Your chest was heaving as the fight came to an end, sweat glistening on your face and back. You held eye contact with Bruce for a moment, before retracting your swords to your side. You glanced at the boys outside, then back at your opponent. You nodded at them and stepped out of the glass cage and put back the swords in the rack.

Nobody was speaking.

You could feel their stares on you, like they were expecting you to turn around and attack them all. Well, that wasn’t unusual; you had been there for tree days and that’s how they always looked at you. Jason handed you your towel wordlessly, but his face communicated enough. He had this grin that only meant he took way too much satisfaction in seeing his adopted father at the tip of your sword. Considering his feelings toward him, his reaction was no surprise. 

“Your branding” Bruce finally broke the silence from behind you. You frowned, until you realized you were wearing a tank top and the healed burn mark on your shoulder was visible. “It’s a fox?”

“Yes” You nodded, turning around to face him. 

“Why?”

“I’ve always been smaller than the other assassins, and faster” You paused to drink water. “I had to be more cunning than them to beat them. So they started calling me Thaelib fi alzalam”

“Fox in the dark” Damian translated. “I never had heard the story behind the name”

“There’s not much to say about it” Your eyes slid to him. “But I guess it sticked enough to become my name” 

“What’s your real name, then?”

You only raised an eyebrow in Tim’s direction, choosing not to answer him. He wasn’t privy to that information, none of them were beside Jason who already knew. Besides, that name had been erased from any record that may have contained it. You only existed in the world as Thaelib fi alzalam. 

“How long have you been in the League?” Bruce asked again, ignoring his son’s question. You were growing restless, with all these questions. You had already said too much, but you also knew not giving an excuse for beating him would only raise more questions.

“Roughly 18 years” 

“Jeez” Dick breathed. “That explains a lot”

“Funny enough, I thought the exact same thing when I found out” Jason snorted, giving his brother a pat on the shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse us, spending the morning playing 21 questions with you all is not as fun as you think” 

He pushed past Bruce and Dick, and you didn’t need to be told twice. You followed him out of the cave and up the stairs, mumbling a ‘thank you’ along the way. You went back to your room to take a shower and change in your regular black attire, then found Jason waiting for you outside your room, freshly showered as well. 

“You know they’ll watch you even more after that stunt?” He spoke up, and you rolled your eyes. Of course you knew. “Bruce wasn’t happy with that kick in Dami’s ribs”

“He said not to hold back” You hummed, sliding your glance up to his face. “Besides, I’ve been sparring with Damian way before Bruce knew he existed. I knew he could take it”

“That’s true, but I doubt he’ll see it that way” His lips subtly curled up. “Why did you do it?”

“To show them I could” You shrugged. “If they’re to remain wary of me, I’d rather them respect my skills as well”

You glanced at the camera, knowing it had picked up the entire conversation. The three days you had been there, you felt you had been sidelined. Not only they didn’t trust you, but you believed they doubted the extent of your abilities. You wouldn’t let yourself be a background character in your own quest, even if it pissed off Batman himself. 

--------

You watched with a small smile as Jason carefully took the pot off of the fire and clumsily held it at the bottom, trying to keep it in place with the cloth under it. He hissed as it momentarily touched his skin, but he immediately adjusted his grip. He slowly poured the tea in both cups, the quantity in each slightly unequal, and put back the pot on the hook by its handle. He handed you a cup, and you took it with a thank you nod. 

He watched you carefully as you softly blew on the steaming beverage a couple of time, then tasted it. He was waiting for your impression, but you remained silent while you evaluated the taste. You knew he would go impatient in a few seconds, and he proved you right by shifting in his seat. You looked up at him, his eyes intensely watching your reaction. 

“A bit too much lemon grass” You commented. “But overall, well done”

He held back a smile, but his eyes lit up at your evaluation. You had let him make the tea that night from what he had observed you do, you knew he had been watching your routine closely for the last few months. And now that he had proven to you he had reached a stable state of mind, you wanted to teach him peripheral skills as well.

You drank the first cup in silence after that. You thought about the first night in the hut, when he had poured his tea on the ground while maintaining eye contact and it almost made you chuckle. There he was now, proud of his first batch of tea, even if he would never admit his pride out loud. 

As he poured the second cups, still unequal but a bit better this time, he spoke up.

“What did you mean by real training?” He brought back the morning’s inquiry, as you hadn’t really answered him then. “I doubt you meant making tea”

“Only partially” The corner of your lips lifted once again, and he rolled his eyes. “I meant that from now on, we work on your technique and your execution, and on building up strength and endurance on muscles you don’t even know exist yet”

“So we jack up my eardrums and make me move like a dancer?” 

You bit the inside of your lips, a silent laughter making your shoulders shake lightly. You shook your head at the joke, catching the grin on his face in your peripheral vision.  “If you want to see it like this”

He didn’t say more, but soon enough his expression sobered up.

“So you had to go through all of this as well, didn’t you?”

Your gaze dropped. “And some more”

He waited for you to elaborate.

“You came to Talia already highly skilled” You pointed out. “With major attitude problems, but highly skilled nevertheless” 

He rolled his eyes again.

“I came to the League with nothing” You resumed. “I had to learn everything from scratch, and believe me when I say all the ass kicking you recieved, I got first. I learned from my scars just like you did”

“I understand” He nodded. “I grew up in the streets of Gotham. It didn’t forgive mistakes a lot either, so any could be your last if you didn’t learn fast enough to steer around them”

“Did you learn it all there? On the streets?”

He sighed. “That’s a complicated story” He glanced down for a second at his cup, fidgeting with the handle. “Hold tight”

--------

It seemed your strategy had worked. For the first time, you had been invited at the round table to discuss strategy. Everybody was geared up for the upcoming patrol and recon operation. You had to locate the weapon, as it had been moved after yours and Jason’s not so subtle interruption. You also had to interrogate Stamm if he was still around, or any high LexCorp operative, and copy the entire storage disk from the labs to try and find some blueprints or informations about the project. 

“I doubt the weapon will be any close to the new lab, or to LexCorp headquarter” Bruce said. “So we need to determine the most probable location and tag it while we distract at the two other places”

You watched the plan of the city intensely. The weapon wasn’t that big, so it could easily be dissimulated among typical lab equipment, but it couldn’t be subtly carried on one’s person. Luthor wouldn’t store the weapon at the docks or anywhere near it, the risk was to high for Falcone, or worse, Sionis, to just take it for themselves. He wouldn’t either store it on Joker’s territory, or around city hall. Too open for random attacks, and according to Bruce, Luthor wasn’t just ready yet to use the weapon. So it left roughly everything inside Upper East Side and Old Gotham. Luthor was based in the Diamond District, and both the previous and currently used LexCorps lab were based around Gotham University, just above the Upper West Side on the other side of the Finger River. You traced your finger from one location to the other, then completed the triangle to…

“Upper East Side”

The chatter you had tuned out died down as they took in what you said. They all looked at you like they had no idea what you were talking about. Jason walked closer to you, observing the map and frowning at your finger tapping the location.

“He’ll keep it within Gotham Upper East Side”

“Batman’s territory?” Damian raised an eyebrow. “That would be a bold move, especially since he knows we’re after him”

“The district with the most vigilante arrest…” Jason mumbled like he was trying to reach your reasoning. “... And the most security”

“Exactly” You nodded. “It would be the smartest move if he is not to keep it close to home. His target is not yet known, or even acquired. He stays in the middle, away from the gangs, safely protected and ready to strike. This is his move”

“How can you be sure?” Bruce narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his armored chest. He was almost intimidating in his Batman costume. Almost.

You clenched your jaw and exchanged a glance with Jason, one that obviously didn’t go unnoticed by the bunch of colorful vigilantes in front of you. It was sharp and meaningful, but he understood what it meant. “Logic”

“Logic” Tim repeated incredulously, eyebrows raised like you had said something wild, like magic or assassin instinct.

“That’s what I would do if I were him” You snapped your attention to him.

“Me too” Jason backed you up. “So unless you feel like racking up Gotham from one end to another, I’d say we go with this plan”

Bruce sighed, then nodded. He still had his doubt toward you, and there was definitely a suspicion of something else going on with you brewing in his mind. There was a specific reason you were there and he did not know it yet, but he could trust Jason’s judgement. Besides, something told him you knew more about this than you let on and he was determined to find out.

“Alright. You and Jason track the weapon, Dick and Tim distract Luthor’s headquarters. Damian and I--”

“No” You interrupted, and eyes widened around you. You knew only Jason hadn’t even if you couldn’t see it, as he was probably expecting your disagreement to your assignment. “I go to the headquarters”

Now you felt Jason stare on you. He did not see the direct approach coming, but he should have. Still, he was surprised with your decision to go for it tonight.

“Excuse me?” Bruce blinked slowly, unimpressed. “This isn’t--”

“Up for debate?” You finished for him as Jason sighed and massaged his temple. He should have known your presence here would grind up sparks, and that you would end up pissing everyone else. He had forgotten how stubborn and confrontational you were when you decided to open your god damn mouth. “It’s not indeed”

Jason did his best to mimic an apology, while Damian sported an amused smirk. Bruce and Dick looked slightly insulted, and Tim had an unreadable expression on his face, so blank it reminded you of other assassins in the League. 

Bruce glanced from you, to Jason beside you, to his three other children lined up coincidently in height order. His eyes rested on you again and a flat determination set in his eyes. 

“Fine, you’ll have the headquarters” He conceded. “With Red Robin. Dick and Jason, you track the weapon, Damian and I will go to LexCorps labs”

“Wait what the fuck--”

“You’re not making a mess again” He interrupted Jason, pointing a finger at him but also meaning you. Jason held up his hand in sarcastic surrender before Bruce backed off. “We leave in five”

The boys emptied the room, and as you were about to follow then, Jason’s hand gently gripped your forearm, halting your tracks. He waited until everyone left before turning his head sideways to look at you.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” He muttered so the mics on the cameras wouldn’t pick it up.

“I’ve been preparing for 18 years for this moment” You replied at the same volume, meeting his eyes. “I’m ready”

He sighed, conceding. “Be careful”

“I can take it”

“I know” His replied harshly. “I mean be careful about Tim. If not he’ll figure it all out before you can spell his stupid three letters name”

So, that was the real reason Bruce paired you up with someone else than Jason. To have a babysitter slash detective watching you. You nodded at Jason and sidestepped him, joining the others in the garage. Everybody was around their vehicle of choice, and a single black ninja bike remained unclaimed. Bruce appeared in your field of vision, holding a key in his left hand. He began handing it to you, but paused mid way.

“Not a scratch, you’re only borrowing” He warned, but didn’t move afterward. You clipped your gas proof half mask in place before reaching out for the keys, then took a step back and did a last check on your ammo.

Your quiver was full, your sword was sharp, and your five smaller arrows on your arm were loaded. The two tranquilizer darts were in the inside of your arm as well, and your bow string was still strong. You gave one look at your full face mask on the table, but you decided to leave it there and only pull on the hood of your suit instead.

Jason noticed from the other side of the room, and he suppressed a smile at your voluntary omission. 

-------

You crouched on the ledge of the building, looking down at the sidewalk some storeys down. Luthor would be supposed to be arriving at his building in about fifteen minutes. You had searched on the facial recognition software for his position, and after you found him at some town hall meeting, it had been easy to tag his position and anticipate his trajectory.

“So you trained Jason?”

You casted your eyes up, then back down again. You weren’t feeling another conversation about your past, and especially not with the spy that was sent to report your every move. Tim was standing a few feet in your hindsight, his red and black cape lightly flapping in the wind making a soft background noise beside the distant sirens and traffic sounds.

“Oooookay” He hummed. “You’re in full gloomy assassin mode. Got it”

You exhaled slowly through your nose. This would be a long night.

“So, what’s the deal with you and swords?” He asked again, taking the remaining steps to stand beside you. “C’mon Foxy, you’re--”

You snapped your head in his direction, and your glower was enough to make him shut up. “Don’t ever call me that”

“Shit, sorry” He mumbled.

“It’s time” You said and stood up straight. You grabbed your bow and grabbed your flare arrows, shooting two in the air. Then, you  aimed in the middle of the LexCorps building to a storey that had no light on. You shot a grappling line on the structure above the window and looped the loose end on a solid structure on the rooftop. You pulled on it to test its tension and hooked your bow to it. You stepped back on the ledge and nodded at Tim, who had already hooked his own pulley a few steps behind you. You jumped and slid down, your hand reaching for your high frequency dart. You loaded it on your arm and shot the glass at the end of the rope. You reached it moment later, feet first, and the window easily shattered with the velocity at which you barrelled into it. You grabbed the frame above you and tugged on your bow to free it then graciously rolled on your feet. Tim wasn’t far behind, jumping in with his momentum. He took a moment to disable all cameras and gave you a thumbs up.

You made your way out of this particular room, knowing the alarms would trigger a partial shutdown in less than a minute. You had to make it seem like you had a purpose being there, so all attention would be focused on LexCorps tower. Luckily, you knew there was a safe somewhere on the middle floors of the building. You had almost reached the stairs when the lights shut down, plunging you in a red glow. Only three floors would be on lockdown for now, yours and both the one above and under. You stopped by the door and gestured at it.

Tim took the lead and stuck a small explosive to the door, then shut his ears with his fingers for good measure. Seconds later, a quiet explosion when off and scrambled the electronic lock system. He pushed the door open and you engaged in the stairs. He pushed button on a device on his forearm, scanning the building for unusual electromagnetic waves. He halted his steps as the computer came up with a location, and he looked up the stairwell.

“Floor 17” He said, followed with a sigh. “I never signed up for all those stairs”

You only sent him an exasperated stare, and he got on the move again. One would have thought climbing the stairs six floors up would have never been a deterrent to an ex-robin, but here he was. You followed him silently, ears strained for any sound of footsteps that weren’t your own. Only when Tim set the second charge on the 17th floor door that shouts echoed below you, probably from the 11th were you had came from. The silent explosion came again, and you slipped through the kaputt door. You went left, a few paces behind Tim who was guiding you to the safe.

“Freeze!” 

You were about to round the corner when you halted your steps. Tim spun around, but you sent him a warning glance not to make a noise. They most likely hadn’t seen him yet. 

“Drop the bow!” The man barked again. “Drop the fucking bow!”

You smirked and crouched to put the bow down as ordered. Tim leaned on the wall, understanding your body language. He remembered that same morning when you all but humiliated Bruce in a duel, and decided to let you handle it. 

“Turn around”

Slowly, you spun on your feet to face the man ordering you around. He was the leader, probably, of a squad of ten men with their rifle facing you. Still in slow motion, you raised your arms, but drew two shurikens from your belt on their way up. Before they could take one step toward you, you threw the sharp stars shaped weapon and it stuck in two of the men on either side of the leader. You dropped on your knees as bullets started firing, grabbing back your bow and firing in the middle of the chaos. You moved on the floor, shooting gunmen as you went. Seven, six, five, four three, two…

Fire stopped and you held your next arrow nocked, ready to go. Silence had settled, and you glanced sideways at Tim. He shrugged. Then, an almost inaudible click reached your ears. Without looking away, you shot straight onto the explosive thrown your way, and he raised an eyebrow. You glanced at it, stuck to the wall for a second before going off.

“Show off much?”

“I’ve been known for it sometimes”

“I’m calling dibs on next batch--”

Your eyes widened when he stopped talking and drew one of his own shuriken, throwing it seemingly in your direction. You dodged it last second, then glanced behind you at the grunt and thumps. The last security guard had almost sneaked up on you. You glared at Tim with confusion and incomprehension, while he seemed smug enough.

“I’m telling everyone about this” 

You rolled your eyes. “We’ll see” 

You resumed your treasure hunt toward the safe, expecting the second wave of security anytime soon. Tim lead you to the safe, which was hidden in a fancy looking lounge. It was behind a portrait, in a most unoriginal way. You pulled it from the wall, knowing that alone would trigger alarms to disclose your position. You just needed a bit more artifices to keep the attention on you.

“How should we proceed?”

You raised an eyebrow at him and gestured to the safe vaguely. “Be my guest”

He grinned and got to work while you watched the door. The stomping of the next troop was steadily growing, so you readied your bow. “Two minutes, babysitter, two minutes”

“This one’s mine, remember” He huffed as you heard him press on random buttons. Then, you heard another explosive. Jesus, how many did he have? “Don’t you dare go for them Foxy”

“It won’t be a problem if I kill you first” You grumbled. “One minute”

“How many?”

“At least twenty” You informed him after listening to the sound more closely. “Thirty seconds. You sure you want them all?”

“Shut up and watch” 

He breezed past you, and seconds later, the door busted open. You retracted in the shadows, watching as he fought the armed men. He got to work with his bo staff, knocking out the first ten or so guards without breaking much of a sweat. But then, he became overwhelmed by the second half. He was surrounded, hitting blindly around him at this point. But he held on as much as he could, and his stubbornness reminded you of Jason’s. Except Tim didn’t look like a loose canon. 

“A little help here?”

“You told me they’re yours” You mused, distracting two guards that hadn’t seen you. They were searching for you in the darkness, and Tim took advantage of their distraction to knock them out too. “I wouldn’t dare”

“C’mon man!” He grunted. “I have twice as you did, and you owe me one!”

You rolled your eyes and put your bow down, then reached for your katana on your back. You took a few step forward and spun the long blade before attacking. Three men went to attack you when they noticed you step out of the shadows, but they didn’t really stand a chance. It took a minute to take down the remaining men.

“I still got more than you” He panted, retracting his bo staff. You watched as one guard pulled himself to his feet, raising his rifle to shoot Tim in the back. You lifted your arm and shot a small arrow in his throat.

“Now we’re quit”

He looked in between you and the man you took down, then to the device on your arm with wonder. “You’ve got to get me one of these”

You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration. “You’re a lot harder to rile up than Jason”

“The bar cannot be lower” He snorted. “Is it annoying you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Yes”

He grinned, but didn’t elaborate. 

“Do you think we did enough?” He changed the subject, but didn’t let you time to reply. “On second thought, don’t answer that. I’ll connect Batman”

You lifted your arms in exasperation. Soon enough, the comm in your ear connected with the rest of the group. 

“Nightwing, where are we with the tag?”

“We found it” Dick replied. “Coming to you as we speak. How’s it going on your side?”

“We blew up things. Foxy got her sword out”

“Foxy?” Jason repeated, and you could only picture his expression. 

“I will push you out of this window and I am dead serious” 

“Oh my god”

“Children” Bruce interrupted. “We copied the files at the lab. If you could pull one more distraction, we’re almost out”

“Copy that” Tim nodded and turned off the feed. “Let’s drop the grand finale”

“I’m tempted to shove an explosive up your nose and make a firework out of your head” You said dryly, not losing the glare.

“Jeez, now I see why you and Jay hit up so well” He chuckled and you frowned.

“Shut up”

“Only when I’m dead”

“No” You hissed. “Actually shut up, I’m hearing the next wave and something sounds weird. It’s like they’re rolling in something…”

He stopped talking as you tried to figure out what was the sound. You padded to the door, sheathing your sword and took a glance in the hallway, hearing the sound gradually come closer. It was heady, that was for sure, with some metal trailing behind. Then a black, metallic nose rounded the corner, and your eyes widened. Fuck.

“What’s going on--- oh shit”

“There they are!” A voice yelled as bullet began raining down on you. You didn’t have your bow, so you were forced to retreat. “Get Big Ben closer!”

“They have a fucking machine gun!” He yelled over the bullets.

“No shit!” You yelled back, sliding through the room and grabbing your bow on the fly. You then crawled behind the desk and flipped it on the side with a strangled cry of effort. It was pure wood, and judging by its heaviness, it would at least protect you from a while. Tim caught up on what you were doing and helped you push the desk against the busted doorframe. 

“Grand finale you said?” You huffed sarcastically once you were both crouched behind the desk. It wouldn’t last long against the machine gun, so you’d have to act fast. 

“At least we won’t have to come up with some dumb stunt” 

“Wouldn’t be so sure” You bit your lip, looking in between the window and the desk. They were drilling the machine gun to the ground on the other side. Your arrows wouldn’t do much against that, but you had another idea. You grabbed an explosive arrow and send it through the window, making it shatter in tiny pieces. “Cover me”

“What?” He hissed, watching you stand up when the fire ceased for reloading. “No-- Don’t-- Shit!”

You walked backward to the open window and shot a grappling line through the desk, as he fended off the guards with his shurikens. You pulled on it, and when you were sure it was secure, you whistled to grab Tim’s attention. “Time to go, babysitter”

He stood up and walked backward as well, emptying his shuriken reserve on the men. You grabbed his wrist and shoved your bow in his hand. “Hold tight”

He frowned at you, and you pushed him out of the windows with a smirk. You then returned your attention on the blocked doorway, lifting your arm once again. You waited until the desk was beginning to be dragged toward you by Tim’s fall, seeing the nozzle of the gun. Before they could fire, you shot an arrow right into it. You then jumped out of the window to avoid being reaped by the desk and grabbed the line. 

You let yourself slide down, clenching your gloved hand on the line to slow your fall. Soon enough, the ground was meer feet away. You gripped the line with your other hand to reach an acceptable speed to hit the ground. You finally pushed away from the line to give yourself space to grab your bow at the end of the line, and landed gracefully on your feet on the ground.

“You fucking pushed me out of the window!” Tim yelled at you.

“I told you I would do it” You replied flatly. 

“You’re insane!” He threw his hands up. “What if I had..”

You tuned his yelling out as someone caught your attention behind him. You took one step forward, your hand instinctively reaching for an arrow. There he was, the bastard that had killed your mother. 

Luthor.

He was exiting the building alone by a back exit, cell phone to his ear. You shot an arrow, but he dodged it last second. His wild stare stopped on you, already reloaded and ready to retake your shot. But he took off, and ignoring Tim’s protest, you went after him. You exchanged your regular arrow to an explosive one and shot it through the concrete archway leading to Robinson park. It came down and blocked his path, and he was trapped. He spun around with a gun at the same time you shot your arrow. You dodged the bullet just on time, and your arrow knocked the gun out of his hand, and for a second you just stared at each other. Then you slowly lifted your arm and aimed at him, pulling back your hood. You wanted to have a good look at him without being shadowed. 

His brow creased. 

Your breathing was loud through your half mask, but you didn’t back down. All you had to do was to take the shot and quickly, swiftly, pierce his throat and make him drown in his own blood. But your muscles were frozen in place. 

Behind you, an explosion went off. 

From your peripheral vision, you watched as a block of concrete was projected from LexCorps’ building structure. Then, you drew its trajectory down to a group of homeless people in tents. You clenched your teeth, your focus returning on Luthor, his expression set as if he dared you to take your shot. The homeless group started screaming and scrambling. You swallowed back a yell of frustration and reached for your last explosive arrow, aiming it at the concrete and destroying it in harmless pieces. 

When you looked again, Luthor was gone.

[thefinalcinderella]

Tsurune Book 2 Chapter 6-Door (Part 2)

It’s the Inter-High finals! Who will win, who will lose? Read on to find out! Also some really weird shit happens and by that point I was just like “...yeah okay”

This part took forever, but I hope it isn’t so tedious to read

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. Heki-ryu Insai-ha is one of the styles still active today

2. Sakae Urakami was a 10-dan hanshi rank archer who was very well known in the kyudo world. He shot in the Heki-ryu Insai-ha style

3. Mato-tsuki means pointing the arrow at the target and teki-wari literally means dividing the target, which means turning the bow with the arm outstretched apparently. I could only find one English source for this the rest was in German hahahahahaha

4. Meigen is the ceremonial plucking of the bowstring. It is primarily done for the Imperial family. It’s believed that the tsurune helps drive away evil spirits

5. Fudou Myouou or Acala is a Buddhist deity who is a Wisdom King. He usually looks angry, carries a sword in the right hand, and has flames at his back

6. This isn’t the first time I came across wabi-sabi, and you’ve probably heard of the term before, but it’s a “world view centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection

7. The “Bow Saint” is a title given to Awa-hanshi

Previous | Afterword

At the moment one step foot in that place, one was invited into another world.

A tsurune, a matooto that pierced through the chest.

The shouts of "Alright!"

Bows and arrows came into this world as tools to sever the lives of others, but archers used them to sever their own lives.

And then, be born again.

Minato slept like a log after he returned from the hospital, and the next morning, his fever had completely receded. Even though there was still some pain left, his body felt lighter than he expected.

The fourth day of Inter-High, the last day.

The venue was wrapped in a tingling atmosphere. The number of spectators was also the most on this day out of all the days. There were many famous schools that had won, and their bow covers and bags with their schools’ name on them let their tradition and self-confidence peek through.

Next to Seiya, who was stretching, Ryouhei and Nanao were having the mysterious conversation of "Did you gooshura last night?” “Of course I did.” It was somewhat comforting. Here was the same scenery as when they were at Kazemai High School.

Kaito, with a sullen look, suddenly struck Minato’s back.

“Ow!”

“Yesterday you seemed to be gasping for breath, but since you’re able to cry out that loudly, you’re fine.”

“Your way of making seems a bit rough, Onogi.”

“Whatever. Right, we going soon?”

Prompted by Kaito, the five bumped their yugake-covered right fists.

Their opponent in the quarterfinals was the winning school the year before last. Kazemai won with seventeen hits against fifteen.

After the deciding matches for fifth to eighth place were finished, the semi-finals began. They won and advanced, but it was hard to listen to the sobbing from the people crouching behind the venue or from the washroom stalls. This was the path that they had taken, and for this tournament as well, there was the bitterness everyone except for the winning school tasted equally. The insides of their mouths felt coarse and rough.

Kazemai’s opponent in the semi-finals was Tsujimine High School.

In the hallway before the waiting rooms, Nikaidou had an amiable smile on his face. His large eyes were so full of vigor and spirit that one wondered if his panicked self from yesterday was an illusion.

He approached Minato, who was swinging his white headband.

"Why, if it isn’t Minato-chan. We were both miserable yesterday, weren’t we?”

"No, it was a good experience for me.”

"Heh…what a mature way to handle it.”

Behind Nikaidou, Fuwa was standing at a distance. He did not like to get friendly with others, so this sense of distance felt comfortable to him.

In the extreme cases of Ootaguro, Higuchi and Aragaki, they did not belong to any group from the start, because they had the air of people marching to the beats of their own drums. They were neither ashamed nor proud to be minorities—they had a natural attitude towards it. They wouldn’t feel insecure or worried even if they weren’t connected to large number of people.    

Minato fixed his gaze on Nikaidou.

“Nikaidou-senpai. I’ve been recalling a lot of Saionji-sensei’s words since then. Because of that, I am convinced of this. Even if Saionji-sensei opened his door wider, your uncle would never be his disciple.”

"I’m shocked. Minato-chan, the always good boy, is provoking me? Do you feel like doing whatever it takes for the sake of winning? You sure have grown, Senpai is so proud of you.”

“Your uncle shoots in the shamen uchiokoshi style of the Heki-ryuu Insai-ha, correct? (1) Also, taking the ‘sanbun no ni’ is from the Urakami school, isn’t it? (2) Saionji-sensei talked about it. He said that since nowadays most people did shoumen uchiokoshi, he didn’t want the number of shamen archers to decrease. He also said that since he could only teach shoumen uchiokoshi, if we ever wanted to try shooting in shamen style in the future, that we shouldn’t hesitate to seek other teachers.”

“What?”

"I think Saionji-sensei knew the difference between who each archer wanted to be, and where they are aiming for. He wasn’t amazing because he hit a hundred targets. Hitting a hundred targets doesn’t have that much meaning, but the figure of someone shooting a bow is cool.”

"Heh…Thank you so very much for your valuable opinion. You must have an awful lot of free time to think about things like that the day before the competition.”

“I loved seeing you shoot, Nikaidou-senpai. The Heki-ryuu taihai you showed us several times: mato-tsuki, teki-wari and the yudaoshi towards the front of target—it was all truly cool. Yeah, you really love kyudo, Senpai.” (3)

“…I’m doing kyudo out of a force of habit. It’s just that since I’m doing it, I don’t wanna lose, and when I need to, I can use it for university referrals. It’s only insurance for broadening my future course.”

"Even so, I looked up to you when you were holding a bow. Those kinds of sharp movements could only be done by someone who trained a lot, and even now, you don’t seem like you’re doing kyudo out of a force of habit at all.”

"Hah…you two really are alike. Just as I thought."

"Huh? What do you mean ‘alike’?”

“You and your master.”

A corner of Nikaidou’s mouth lifted, and he left while fluttering his hand at him.

At the convocation call, they went on towards the third waiting room and passed through the door.

In the space enclosed by white cloth, there were also five to six staff members in addition to the competitors and managers from the two schools. Minato’s team placed their bows and arrows in the designated place and sat down in their seats with Tommy-sensei, their manager, at the end. To verify the identities of the competitors and manager, they underwent inspection of their equipment and numbers, as well as their attire, hands, and other body inspections. The staff told them that even if they lost, the deciding matches for third and fourth places would begin immediately, so they would need to come back there again.

Tommy-sensei collected the ID cards hanging from their necks, and took with him a small basket containing things like reserve arrows stuck in palm-sized, three sun (9.1cm) targets and spare bowstring reels, then they moved to the second waiting room. The competitors put down their bows and arrows again and sat down.

They would be entering the shajo once they left there. Tsujimine’s Ootaguro was cramming his left hand into a flat can filled with fudeko powder, and next to him, Seiya was doing things like rotating his shoulders.

At the signal, the ten competitors took their bows and arrows in hand and lined up in one single line.

When they entered the kyudojo, Tsujimine and Kazemai entered the first and second shajo respectively and sat down—it was finally time.

“Rise, begin!”

They did their yuu bows simultaneously, advanced to the shooting line and nocked their arrows.

First to shoot was Tsujimine’s oomae, Nikaidou.

A yugamae done in the shamen style involved making the tenouchi small to make it look like red leaves piling up, and pushing open the bow diagonally to the left at a third of one’s yazuka. Keeping that form, one raised their bow, and then at hikiwake, the right hand passed over the ear, and the arrow stops at a height that is almost level with it, which is the “sanbun no ni” position. After doing kakehodoki—making a grinding noise with the yugake at kai—he flicked his thumb, and the sharp flight of his arrow invited a matooto.

Next was the second archer, Fuwa.

His hoozuke was slightly higher than those for shoumen uchiokoshi, and his arrow was placed in between his cheekbone and the corner of his mouth (kuchiwari). He continued to stretch his arms as though they were holding the ends of a piece of string and he was extending it evenly to the left and right. He waited for the "yagoro"—the moment that led to the perfect opportunity for hanare. He also hit the target.

The third archer, Ootaguro, was very conspicuous due to his bamboo bow that was unusual for a student, the huge size of that bow, and not to mention his massive and bulky body. His amber bow bended so much that it seemed to engulf other people, and his arrow pierced the target with such a force that it made the azuchi cave in.

Conversely, the fourth archer, Higuchi, slowly lifted his bow. He drew his bow so gently that it verged on being too careful, and even if one thought that he finally reached kai, he took a considerable amount of time to release his arrow. After the spectators, wondering what was going to happen, were kept in suspense, finally at last, his arrow drew a parabola and fell to the target.

The ochi was Aragaki the maskman. Of course, he took off his mask in the shajo. Since he was narcissistic about his profile, he was extremely particular about the angle of his face. He fixed his gaze on the target to ascertain it, as though his name was being called from the target. He did not blink even once since he started uchiokoshi. He performed nobiai at kai as though to thoroughly worship his own profile.

The five got a kaichuu, and there was applause from the stands.

Kazemai did not succumb to them.

Elderly people, even if they were great archers, could never imitate the lively and youthful shooting they performed one after the other. They captured their targets in succession, and heated shouts of “Alright!” flew from the stands. The frog fans were shaking faintly.

In the second round of shooting as well, neither school missed.

Aggressive Kaito, cheerful Ryouhei, intelligent Seiya, sparkling Nanao, and cool and clear Minato――.

They increased the freshness of the colours each of them possessed, and painted a picture rich with those five colours.

Suppose that the settings book for the story called life had been written in one’s genes before one was born. Inevitable large events were prepared at each important point. However, it was up to the person themselves to write a heavy and dark story or a fun and bright story. Even if the plot was the same, it would become something else depending on the episodes one chose, and even for the same episode, just changing its arrangement would change the implications and meaning of it. There were endless ways to write, and each person had their own impressions and feelings.

Just as everyone’s faces and voices were different, no one had the exact same shooting form. No one could always shoot with the exact same form. Humans were creatures who kept on changing moment by moment. What one ate became flesh and blood, the information that entered from the eyes and ears was processed and stored by the brain, and skin cells were reborn in two weeks. One’s faces yesterday and today were similar but different. Even if one came to a stop, hung one’s head, bent over, crouched down, or shed tears of blood, a wind would still blow somewhere.

A new wind blew.

Supple limbs danced.

The color of evergreen.

Let’s etch these moments that would never fade into our memories.

The third shooting round. Seiya missed.

In the fourth shooting round, Nanao also missed, and Kazemai had the result of four, four, three, three, and four for a total of eighteen hits.

For Tsujimine as well, Fuwa and Aragaki both missed one shot each, and the results of four, three, four, four, and three—a tie.

For the tiebreaking match, each archer would shoot one arrow, and the school with the most hits won. Each person received a spare arrow from their manager, who acted as the kaizoe and sat in a reserved chair, and steadied their breathing. Even though it was just one arrow, it felt heavier than the four arrows they always had, and it was slippery in their hands from all the sweat.

“Begin!”

After finishing yugamae, both schools’ oomae raised their bows grandly. Both were marked with circles.

The second archers hit. The third archers hit.

And then, the fourth archer. The ochimae.

Tsujimine’s Higuchi missed, and Kazemai’s Nanao hit.

In the stands, the spectating Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo shouted while holding each other’s hands.

The last was the ochi.

As Aragaki’s matooto sounded, Minato was inserting himself into the centre of his bow. He performed nobiai in all directions, and waited for the moment of release. After he let go of his arrow, a circle was displayed on the scoreboard.

In the midst of the applause, they exited the shajo, and Minato’s team clapped each other on their shoulders. Ryouhei carried Nanao on his shoulder and they were shouting joyfully as though the championships were already decided for them.

Kaito, overcame with emotion, covered his mouth with his hand.

“…Did we just break through the semifinals?”

Seiya answered him.

“Yeah. We defeated Tsujimine.”

“Crap, my stomach kinda hurts.”

“Again?”

While Kazemai was shouting for joy, the competitors from Tsujimine were silent. They walked as though they were heading towards the practice venue.

Nikaidou and Fuwa looked at their two senpai.

“Higuchi-senpai, Aragaki-senpai. We should hurry on back to the waiting room.”

“I’m sorry for missing…”

“It’s fine, Higuchi-senpai. That’s just how kyudo is.”

Aragaki also nodded deeply.

Nikaidou turned his back on Minato’s team and started walking. His eyes were tinged with a quiet heat.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

So frustrated, so frustrated, so frustrated, so frustrated…

I will not be finished. This isn’t over――.

Fuwa laughed scornfully.

“It still ain’t over yet. Let’s go take third place. Then, after the closing ceremony, we’ll have a strategy meeting. When we win third, I’ll turn the information I learned into a souvenir, we’ll snatch permission to use the gym, and then we’ll reassemble a practice regimen for next year’s Inter-High.”

“…You serious?”

“If you don’t wanna, then I don’t really care.”

“…You’re still a crafty bastard, as ever.”

“Aren’t you the same?”

Nikaidou gave Fuwa a good punch in the stomach.

Tsujimine High School won third place.

The finals match.

The school that lasted to the end was, as expected, Kirisaki High School. It was a match between schools in the same prefecture.

The five Kirisaki team members were face-to-face, and Motomura gave them his final words.

“Let’s make this our greatest stage. There is nothing that can frighten us. Let’s show everyone the shooting of the powerhouse, Kirisaki!”

Shuu and the others got goosebumps at strong and confident Motomura’s words. No, they were trembling with the excitement of warriors. It felt like a burning in the pits of their stomachs. An impulse only understood by archers were in love with the bow, who were at the mercy of the bow.

Bargaining with the target.

One must not let it know that you wanted to shoot through its heart.

The five light bumped their yugake-right fists together.

Meanwhile, Kazemai was also gathered around Tommy-sensei. Masa-san spoke.

“Forget everything I’ve said up to now. You should shoot as you want, as though this is the first time that you are holding a bow.”

Tommy-sensei spoke after him.

“I feel the same way as Takigawa-san. All of you are plenty cool as you are. The best archers. This is today’s final mission. Now, let’s go.”

“Yes!”

Tommy-sensei put out his hand, and Kaito, Ryouhei, Seiya, Nanao, Minato, and Masa-san placed their hands over it.

After they entered the second waiting room, the two schools sat next to each other.

Kirisaki High School—Motomura, Senichi, Manji, Sase, Shuu.

Kazemai High School—Kaito, Ryouhei, Seiya, Nanao, Minato.

There had never been a scene that was so tense. The prefectural finals felt like it had happened a long, long time ago.

Shuu was on Minato’s left side. Even at this tournament, he got a continuous kaichuu and accomplished a monster-like act, but didn’t that put more pressure on him instead? You couldn’t keep on hitting forever. No matter how masterful an archer was, the moment when they missed would inevitably come.

However, Shuu was indifferent to Minato’s worries; he seemed happy. When he met Minato’s eyes, he smiled gently. It was like the time when they played with Souta at Saionji-sensei’s house, like even now he was planning a trick. Seeing him like that, Minato unintentionally guarded his left flank. He was far from his persona of being the “Young Prince Shuu” who many archers knew him as. He was just like a child.

Where did that calmness come from? He said that he would embody “one shot and expire,” but Minato didn’t even know what that meant.

What he did know was that his heart was pounding, and that he was excited.

The joy from being able to shoot on the same stage as Shuu.

At the signal, they stood up, and Kazemai and Kirisaki faced each other and bowed, saying, “We look forward to competing against you.”

It was the start of nyuujou. The five sat down simultaneously in the chairs of the first waiting room in front of honza. Tommy-sensei also sat down behind the competitors. The arena was different from the kyudojo they had always shot in, and even the smallest sound was picked up. It felt like everyone could even hear the sound that persisted in Minato’s chest.

His exposed heart.

The immovable target.

At the order to “begin,” the two schools went towards the shooting line, their yellow-green and purple headbands swaying above their shoulders. Masa-san, holding his breath as he watched over the group with the same-color headbands, was also at the very end of the shajo.

The oomaes began to raise their bows.

Motomura had the face of a young family head, and his true form was that of an extraordinary exorcist. When admonished by his gentle face, one would forget suspicious things and uncanniness. There were “sounds” and “words” that made people uncomfortable and those that soothed them, and seeing miracles on the bow since ancient times was because of the beauty of its form and shape. Before true beauty, people lost their wickedness, and a beautiful tsurune possessed the wavelength to heal people.

Meigen—the sound of joy. (4)

A sound that reset everything, returning them back to zero.

Kaito did not hide the heat that slept within him, and suppressed the demon with his look of anger. Like Fudou Myouou (5), he held a sword in his hands and carried flames on his back, waiting for sprouts of new life in a burnt field.

The second archers after them were Senichi and Ryouhei.

For both of them, their ideal archer was Shuu. His shooting that surpassed those of the same generation as him always captivated those who saw it. They groped for how close they could get to him, how it could superimposed over them, and how to recreate it. It was fascinating how even if they copied him, it wouldn’t be exactly the same as the original, but another way of shooting was born, mixed with their own colors.  Senichi was delicate, and Ryouhei was bold and heroic. They both hit their targets.

The third archers were Senichi’s younger brother Manji and Seiya. They painted layers of muddy paint and hid their own inborn colors.

Manji had sealed up his fast shooting and kept on practicing to shoot carefully and without rushing in order to not have hayake. Just like how Senichi chased after Shuu, Manji chased after Senichi. The two of them absolutely couldn’t stand was being left behind or surpassed. A circle was shown on the scoreboard.

Rather than imitating someone, Seiya pictured his ideal image of what he wanted to do in his head and simulated it. He repeated that until he tricked his brain into believing that was truer, so even he himself completely forgot who he was originally, but from Kaito’s point of view, he didn’t seem to be able to change completely. His intricately calculated hanare induced a matooto.

Sase was an idol lover, and he himself had the talent of an idol. Like a refreshing and easygoing sportsman, he was not bashful at all, and was always in the center of a circle of strangers. He started talking to Motomura, who was brimming with wabi-sabi (6) even when he was young, not because he worried that he felt out of place in class, but because he wanted to talk to him and so he did. He also started doing kyudo because he wanted to try doing it. That was all it was.

Nanao was actually quite straightforward. He knew very well that his popularity with girls would make him the enemy of some boys, and that was exactly why he spread love. He couldn’t keep his overflowing feelings in his chest. I smile because you smile. I’m happy when you’re happy. Your angry faces, your troubled faces, I want to see lots of you.

After he snatched a magnificent hit, the yellow-green frogs in the stands swayed.

The ochi were Shuu and Minato.

When Shuu raised his bow, the world changed completely. One got lost in a shining golden land. Before that divine and beautiful archer, everything that had life stopped breathing. The fire he released from the depths of his body created an updraft, which started up and quickened. He slowly raised his two wings and spread his white feathers.

Sound was what fell.

A sound that stole away people’s memories.

When the watchers recovered their senses, the area was engulfed in the echoes from shouts of "Alright!" It gently rained with the sound that made their skin tremble and scorched their chests.

At the same moment, Minato raised his bow up high. He held his bow at kyuuha, with a strength like he was playing with it—not too strongly, not too weakly. The beautiful tsurune he heard when he was young. When that sound rang, Minato’s world changed. On the other side of the rain that fell beside him, a rainbow from thick clouds spread.

Even if he tried to not recall what was taught to him, his body remembered it all perfectly. The disciple inherited the master’s colors. Kazemai had Kazemai’s colors, and Kirisaki had Kirisaki’s colors. Even from among the many archers, when told, "You are from Kazemai High School Kyudo Club, aren’t you," he could continue hitting.

In the silence that made one even hesitate to move, the shouts of "Alright" bounced off the surrounding walls, continually going back and forth.

From right to left.

From left to right.

Thud, thud.

The sound, similar to fireworks, echoed.

The instrumental trio of tsurune, matooto, and shouts.

In the second shooting round also, tsurune were played in succession. It was all hits. Two five-person kaichuu were carried out, and there was applause.

When they entered the third shooting round, A bead of sweat ran down Minato’s cheek. His hearing wasn’t working normally, as the way he heard things was somewhat strange. A sensation of having dozed off, like he was being talked to in his head, like he was talking to someone in his dreams. Where was he right now? What was he doing? Even the act of drawing his bow felt like he was doing it in a dream-like state and lacked a sense of reality.

In the stands, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo whispered to each other.

"They are so good it’s kinda scary…"

"I agree. I feel chills, even though it is the middle of summer."

"――This is divine possession."

Seo’s words made their surroundings more and more frozen.

In the fourth—final—shooting round, the oomae Kaito missed. At someone’s sigh, the tension in the shajo was broken for a moment. Perhaps overwhelmed by the change in the flow of that wind, the arrow the second archer Senichi released also pierced the azuchi. Since it was an indoor azuchi that didn’t use soil, a tap sound, similar to a matooto, resounded.

With that, both schools had one miss――. Once more, it became a one-on-one battle between the two ochi.

The spectator’s gazes were fixed on Shuu and Minato.

When Minato raised his bow, Shuu also raised his to follow him. They parted their bows grandly and inserted their bodies into the middle of them. They slowly released their breaths from their filled and content dantian. Upon doing that, the target itself approached the archer and assimilated into him.

The target is me, and I am the target. The great I, whose boundaries as an individual had blurred, will draw my bow.

They extended in all directions and formed crosses.

Nikaidou had asked Minato, "For what reason do you shoot a bow?", but that question didn’t make sense to him. He didn’t draw the bow to win or to train his body; he faced the target to breathe. Breathing was the proof of living. Therefore, on the days when he wasn’t holding a bow, he felt like he was dead.

It wasn’t "correct shooting makes for true hitting," but "correct questions make for correct answers." A good answer was born from a good question. If one were to ask Minato a question, it should not be "for what reason," but "How do you shoot a bow?" He embodied the answer to that question every single day.

Minato and Shuu were no longer thinking anything.

They didn’t hear anything.

They returned to the time when they met, losing themselves in drawing their bows.

For honing one’s body and entering a state of absolute concentration, it was annoying and hindering to have words inside one’s head. Thinking interfered with physical activity. Therefore, deep breathing was what helped empty one’s head. Along with breath, one would make "thought" get out of one’s body.

The one who shaded the event of an arrow hitting a target with good or bad, or emotions, was the "self," and the opposite of hayake and Yips was the state of "selflessness", or the zone. Being unconscious, in a sense, was like being someone who had expired. Dead people had no consciousness, and babies played innocently and without thought. Words did not intervene there.

――One shot and expire.

The archer dying at kai and being born again at hanare was the greatest shooting technique in the ultimate secret techniques left behind by the one who was called the Bow Saint. (7) The two were making use of that technique—Shuu intentionally, Minato unintentionally.

They cried their yagoe in their hearts.

Fly, yagoe.

Clear your path.

Run, yagoe.

Today’s a day of beginnings.

The two arrows were sucked into the bull’s-eye.

Amidst thunderous applause, the bell signalling seven-and-a-half minutes sounded. Minato and Shuu turned to face their targets and moved backed towards honza, and then sat down in their chairs.

Nineteen hits to nineteen hits. It was a tie.

The two schools’ managers handed their archers one backup arrow each. Each team shot a total of five shots, and if it couldn’t be decided in one set, then they would repeat the process. It was like an izume match for group competitions.

"Rise, begin!"

The Kazemai and Kirisaki archers nocked their arrows. With a single arrow, victory or defeat was decided. An arrow that was too heavy.

My chest hurts. My chest hurts. My center of my head feels hazy, and my fingertips are getting really numb. The insides of my ears sting. To get away from this choking feeling, I’ll breathe slowly, slowly.

The first shooting round. Both schools got hits.

Next was the second round.

Ryouhei’s arrow landed to the right of the target. Sighs overlapped with shouts of "Alright" from the stands.

Third round, hits.

Fourth round, hits.

And finally, the fifth round.

Minato and Shuu made beautiful tsurune ――.

After they exited the shajo, Kazemai and Kirisaki bowed to each other. Kaito and Motomura, feeling just like Ryouhei and Senichi, mutually smashed their yugake together. Minato and Shuu also bumped the backs of their yugake.

When they passed through the exit, the press gathered to interview the winning school. Minato and the others passed by them. On the return path, there was the staff room partitioned off with white cloth, and large windows on the left side. It was dazzlingly bright outside the windows, the trees swaying in the breeze.

Ryouhei came to a stop in front of the wall between the windows, and collapsed on the spot. He pressed his head against the wall hard, and his shoulders were shaking. He got on his knees temporarily, then he couldn’t stand up anymore.

"If I…If I hadn’t missed… I wanted to shoot more, and more… It’s my fault we lost…”

Minato put his arm around Ryouhei’s shoulders from behind.

He couldn’t say anything. That regret he himself had also tasted. That intense anger and sadness towards himself.

If one was experiencing such painful emotions, then they shouldn’t be doing things like kyudo.

I’m so frustrated, I’m so frustrated, I can’t forgive myself――.

Seiya also bent down in that spot and placed his hands on the two boys’ shoulders.

"Me, Kaito, Nanao and Minato—we’ve all missed before. We’re all the same. Someone who never missed before doesn’t exist."

"Uugh…ah…"

Kaito was watching over shoulder at Nanao folding Ryouhei, Minato, and Seiya together into a big hug. Kirisaki, having finished their interviews, passed by them there, and Shuu remained behind as the other members continued on.

When Nanao and the others noticed him, they removed themselves from Ryouhei, and Shuu knelt down before him.

"Ryouhei, Sae wants to meet you. Summer vacation is still long, so would you come and play with us, if you like? It seems Toujou would also like another bout with you."

"…Alright. I won’t lose, after all."

Ryouhei had his hands taken by Seiya and Minato and stood up. He then smiled.

Shuu left them.

In the hall, competitors could be seen chatting with their families. The accompanying children, perhaps bored, ran around in their slippers while making pitter-patter sounds.

Suddenly, Shuu remembered that it was the day of Sae’s violin lesson today. He turned his face towards where the sun was shining and narrowed his eyes. He could see an illusion.

"…Sae? Why are you here?"

“Shuu-niisama, congratulations. We came here to support you, of course. We thought we would make you nervous if you saw our faces, so we made sure to not be seen. It was hard.”

Next to her, Shuu’s mother was also smiling.

“Congratulations, Shuu. You were wonderful.”

Unexpected words, from an unexpected person.

As Shuu was at a loss for words, a man appeared from behind. Without needing to cross swords with anyone, he gave off the air of someone who made others lose their will to fight—someone who had the nickname of “Samurai.”

“Father…”

“Congratulations. Your shooting closely resembled that of Saionji-sensei’s in the past. I can see that you trained a lot, Shuu.”

“…Thank you very much. I am truly sorry that you had to come all the way here while you were the one who was busy, Father.”

“To tell you the truth, I received many phone calls at my company. From Sugawara Senichi-kun and Manji-kun, Motomura-kun and Sase-kun, as well as Narumiya-kun and Yamanouchi-kun. All asking me to please come and see Shuu shoot. It seems that my son has some good friends. I am looking forward to seeing the growth of all of you from now on.”

Shuu wanted to respond, but couldn’t make words come out of his mouth no matter how hard he tried.

The unseen words written on that Tanabata paper strip were, “From your son, Shuu.”

To be able to heard the word “son” come from you--.

When the wind came dancing in from the doors, the light that reflected off the windows hid Shuu’s face.

Meanwhile, Minato and the others exited the hall to find Masa-san waiting for them.

He smiled, and while saying things like “Alright!” “Okay!” and “Let’s go and eat something tasty”, he roughly tousled the five boys’ hair. Tommy-sensei also patted their backs.

Even though Minato had been holding it back for a long time, it was at that moment that his tear glands loosened. Seiya, Ryouhei, Nanao, and Kaito were the same.

Masa-san, Tommy-sensei, you’re both awful.

Even though the closing ceremony is going to take place after this, isn’t it super uncool to mess up our hair like this…

The five boys formed a circle.

And then, they shouted that they would stand on this stage again.

At dusk, the train carrying five boys departed.

On the screen of Ryouhei’s phone, there was a picture sent by his sister.

It was a picture of overpowering mountains and a tall sky.

The first star of the evening, which couldn’t be seen from the windows of their rooms, shone.

Fragrant ears of rice and the sound of cicadas.

Before he knew it, Minato dozed off, and leaned on his teacher beside him.

Previous | Afterword

[arcanesupern0va]

Rick In The Water; Ch8: What It Is To Burn

Summary: Morty's actin' pretty weird my friend, wonder what's up with that.

A/N:   A L S O, sorry for the delay, but I was having a really hard time trying to figure how I wanted to do where the ending was originally heading. BUT I'm much happier with this chapter and the way the story goes with my change to the chapterter and the next one go hand in hand so it'll pick up exactly where this one leaves off. CW: Violence against Mortys? Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 6186

My ao3

Masterlist

|Ch7: Shameful Metaphors|

+Nova+

After the assault on the Citadel, Rick and I spent most days holed up in his garage or out with Morty adventuring. Ryan would try stopping by a couple of times to try catching me but most of the time Rick and I were so wrapped up in whatever issue of the week we were dealing with that I happily pushed seeing him back to a later date. I was hanging around Rick so much I barely saw Beth even though every morning I could depend on her leaving a cup of coffee for me on the coffee table as I woke up.

“Please, please just let me set you up in Jerry’s office. I promise he doesn’t use it,” she would insist every morning to my refusal and Jerry’s ire. Jerry stopped really arguing after a while at Beth’s less than amused reminders of his joblessness. I would insist the TV helped me sleep and I hated that I was taking up space in her house at all. She always relented, saying she was just glad I finally got away from Ryan.

I didn’t know how to explain to her why I preferred sleeping on the couch. How was I supposed to tell her I liked that Rick, in a rare show of affection, would come sit next to me and play with my hair until he couldn’t stay awake any longer? That Rick and I were three seasons deep into a binge of Cornless? That her father and I were in lo-

No, not necessarily… that.

Despite my craving to hear them for longer than I had ever even realized, we hadn’t even talked about it. I didn’t doubt them though, in every light kiss, in every spared glance, they were so goddamn apparent. Rick wasn’t one to be touchy-feely with emotions and after years of emotional beatdowns every time I showed an iota of emotion, neither was I.

One afternoon, we were sitting at his workbench in near silence while he tweaked his latest invention and I desperately searched for a new job. The hunt was going dismally, despite my years of experience.

“Hey babe, don’t worry about,” he murmured in my ear, causing me to jump out of my skin. Somehow without me even noticing, he’d rolled his chair around the workbench to me. “You can just help me out all day,” he assured me, kissing the top of my head gently before rolling back over to his invention. “Check this out.” Smiling, he extended a small tube out, leaving me to stare at it in confusion.

“What even is that?” I asked bluntly, causing his smile to droop slightly.

“I-It’s an enhancement for my arm. This body came with some upgrades,” he told me as though it would be the most obvious thing in the world. As I continued surveying it, even taking it into my hand to inspect it closer, he continued, “It’s a new barrel for my arm mounted pistol. I’m trying to make it even more accurate.” He snatched it out of my hand, returning to work on it protectively.

“This is why I can’t just help you out all day. I don’t even know what half of this stuff is.” I told him flatly.

“I-I could show you,” he insisted, sliding his chair over to the large utility shelf next to the garage door.

“Rick, do you really want to spend every second of every day with me?” I asked with the same flat tone.

“N-No, of course not,” he stammered, digging through the boxes.

“Then I need to get a job, I have to at least help Beth with expenses if Jerry’s not going to.” He paused, seeming to consider my words for a moment before resuming digging. “Then we can just send Jerry to live with Ryan and Beth and I can just be nice lesbian parents to Morty, Summer, and Madi.”

“Trying to collect the full Sanchez set? Got me, now you’re going after Beth too?” He stopped digging through his current box, moving over to his workbench and pulling one down from the shelf above.

“Oh, I collected Beth a while ago,” I told him innocently. His eyes bulged for a moment so I elaborated with a carefree shrug. “Teenage years are a confusing time.”

“Oh, that’s… why’d you have to go and make it weird? That’s weird, you’re weird,” he recoiled, actually looking grossed out.

“We didn’t do anything,” I soothed him, “I was just fucking with you old man.”

“You’re still weird.”

“You like it.”

“Shut up.”

He abandoned his search and we fell back into a comfortable silence for a while. Rick started on another project, something that looked like a supersonic set of headphones and I went back to my job hunting. I was inches away from slamming the laptop shut in frustration when Morty stormed in, looking angrier than I had ever seen him.

“R-Rick, I want to redeem my adventure card,” he demanded, handing a small punch card out to Rick. I raised my eyebrow at Rick but he just rolled his eyes and handed the card back to Morty.

“I don’t feel like going out right now, kid,” he shrugged, turning back to his invention. The source of Morty’s irritation appeared at the door in the form of Jerry wearing a very serious expression.

“Come on, kiddo, I just wanted to talk to you about it,” Jerry explained, exasperated. “It’s a talk a man and his son have at some point-”

“Come on Nova, Morty. We have places to be,” Rick said flatly. Morty quickly pulled Rick’s portal gun out of his pocket, punching in a destination and opening a portal for us to disappear in, much to Jerry’s frustration.

*+*

“So what in the hell was that all about?” Rick asked gruffly, using a laser sword from his lab coat to try and fight his way through the dense thicket of the planet Morty had portalled us to. I had stopped asking questions about how he could always be so prepared a long time ago, I always got the same answer. When you’re good, you’re good.

“He wanted to have the ‘talk.’ Look, I’d rather not talk about it, Rick. I-I came out here to get away from it, not discuss it at length with you two.” Morty grimaced, not breaking his stride and using his anger to quickly work his way through the tall brush.

“Okay, rude. You wanna at least tell me where we are?” Rick asked, trying his hardest not to sound annoyed. I followed behind the two, letting their frustration with each other carve me a path.

“I just punched in random numbers,” Morty replied with a shrug. “I just wanted to get out of there. There’s gotta be something here that’s useful for you.” The bitter note in his tone had Rick and me exchanging glances before continuing after him.

“So, if Morty doesn’t know where the fuck we’re at, do you?” I asked Rick, my own irritation bubbling under the surface. He pulled out his space phone, typing into the screen quickly with a steadily more and more irritated expression growing on his face.

“I have no fucking clue,” he groaned, shoving the device back into his pocket. “Let’s just go somewhere else Morty, I-I’m not wasting my afternoon mowing some random fucking planets backyard.” He reached for his portal gun, only to find it missing from his pocket. I pointed to Morty when he shot me a look of confusion and further irritation bled onto it. “Come on asshole, give it back, let’s go,” he growled at his grandson, extending his hand expectantly.

“I’m not going back into that fucking house,” Morty shot back, holding out the portal gun for Rick to grab. He left it within his reach until the last moment, whipping it away from his grasp right as his fist had ready to grasp it. “I’m not going home. We’ll find something here,” he told him simply, forcing the portal gun into the waist of his jeans.

“Morty, he didn’t say anything about going home,” I told him softly, holding my finger up to Rick hoping to silence him before he could start berating my godson again. “We’ll just go somewhere else. It’ll be fi-”

“Nova, this is my fucking adventure.” Morty twirled around to face me, his usually kind face contorted with rage. “We’re going to find something here, got it?”

“H-Hey buddy, calm down,” Rick shot at his grandson, eyeing him carefully. “That’s your fucking aunt, d-don’t talk to her like that.”

“Wh-Whatever Rick. Y-Y-You’re so worried about her being my aunt until you’re trying to get in her p-pants.” Morty turned to Rick, eyes burning with rage.“Then it’s totally fine, right Rick? All because you’re in l-love with her or something equally as stupid? F-Fucking hypocrite.”

“Fuck you, Morty,” Rick shot darkly, not meeting my gaze. “I haven’t even fucked her, t-that’s not why she’s around you little piece of shit.”

“No, fuck you, Rick. L-Let’s just keep going alright?” Morty picked up his pace, going further ahead of us, mumbling under his breath.

“So, he’s a damn delight to be around today,” I murmured to Rick, brushing up against him to comfort him. He didn’t respond, storming off to catch up to Morty and continue his tirade leaving me to trail behind them alone.

We came across a dark cave, dripping with stalactites that almost came into the shape of a large vicious mouth. Totally not ominous at all and yet Morty was peering through the entryway eagerly. “Let’s check this place out.”

“Yeah Morty, we should absolutely check out the terrifying cave that literally looks like it’s about to eat us,” I told him sarcastically.

“Nova, it’s my adventure, we’re going,” he told me angrily before pulling out a flashlight and venturing further within. I looked to Rick quickly only to receive a shrug as he followed Morty into the gaping maw of a cave entrance. Had everyone just lost their goddamn minds today?

“Really great adventure Mo*uuurp*rty,” Rick complained lazily as we walked through the cave. Morty stormed ahead, only taking care to avoid any obvious potential hazards while Rick and I walked slowly, his flashlight only illuminating so much. “Maybe Satan himself will be down here and I can ask him why he sent me such a shitty grandson.” I smacked his arm earning me a glare before he continued. “You’re going to get Nova and I killed down here.”

“Maybe if Satan is down here I can him wh-who the fuck you think you are old man,” Morty growled over his shoulder.

“Something’s wrong with Morty, Rick,” I told him urgently. The ground beneath us was slippery so I grabbed onto his arm to keep myself steady.

“Yeah, I noticed that already, Nova. I’m trying to figure out what the little shit is up to,” Rick hissed, glancing down at my hand with a look of irritation.

“The fuck is your problem?” I asked, releasing his arm spitefully.

“Nothing Nova, just trying to focus on Morty at the moment, that’s all,” he said distracted, taking advantage of my release on him and hurrying after Morty.

“Rick!” I whispered sharply. “You have the fucking flashlight you fucking dick!” Inky darkness fell over me as Rick disappeared around a corner ahead of me. I tried my best to navigate through the pitch black, running into far more walls than intended. In a stroke of genius, I remembered my phone in my back pocket and pulled it out to activate its flashlight. I was greeted with the face of Morty contorted with rage as he knocked the device out of my hands and shoved me to the ground. “Morty, what the fuck?!” I shouted. He didn’t respond, instead, a hand extended in front of me, knocking me out with gas from a small aerosol can.

*+*

“Nova, wake up Nova,” a singsong voice murmured as I awoke to find myself tied to some kind of alter. Over twenty Mortys surrounded me, all staring at me, emotionless save for one who busied himself with a small bowl near my head. The stone altar was cool to the touch, sending chills down my spine.

“Morty, what the fuck are you doing?” I tried to fight the bind on my wrist, furious to find myself in this situation yet again. “Let me up goddammit.”

“Not yet Nova. Not until The One True Morty gets here with the bastard Rick,” the one closest told me emotionlessly.

“Th-The One True Morty?” I asked hysterically. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“In due time, Au-Aunt Nova,” he told me dismissively.

“I-Is that my Morty? The one that brought us down here?” I whispered, my anger being replaced by panic.

“In a word, no,” Bowl Morty grinned deviously as he finished up with whatever he was doing.

“Why did he bring us here?”

“All will be explained when The One True Morty arrives.”

And so I was left to sit, struggling in my binds as I waited for this One True Morty to appear. It seemed to drag on for hours and after the first hour, I started giving up, my wrists bloody and raw from constantly rubbing the coarse rope. I tried to dig for more answers to where I was, why I was here but the Mortys surrounding me remained silent. Content to watch me, no emotion emerged on their faces. Finally, almost blissfully, I heard a gruff voice berating a Morty. A voice I had grown far too accustomed to.

“Goddammit Morty, what in the hell are you doing?” Rick’s shouts echoed on the damp cave walls. He emerged through a low opening, his hands bound in front of him looking angrier than I’d ever seen him. His anger softened at the sight of me but as soon as it did it contorted again into an even uglier snarl. “What the fuck are you doing you fucking idiot? Let her go, whatever issues you fucking turds have are with me, leave her the fuck out of it.”

“Quiet,” the Morty leading him said quietly as he flicked his wrist softly, and to my surprise, it was quite effective. “Mortys, don’t allow him to get anywhere near that Nova.”

“M-Morty? You’re not my Morty. Where is my Morty?” I asked urgently.

“I’m surprised to see you care so much, I’ve been living with you for almost a month and you haven’t even noticed I wasn’t your Morty,” Morty said in a controlled voice. This Morty was an anomaly. Where my Morty was generally shy and nervous, this one was confident and meticulous. It was like he’d been body-snatched.

My eyes shot to Rick, who was wearing a look of furious disbelief but as he opened his mouth to speak, no sound came out. “What do you mean? What did you do to my Morty?” I asked in his stead.

“Nothing of consequence.” He paused and chuckled before changing the subject smoothly, “You know Nova, my version of you died when I was twelve. Seeing you hurt is not something I want, it’s just a necessary evil for right now. You are safe and you will return to your home when I’m finished here.”

“Wh-What are you doing Morty?” I asked nervously. “Why did you bring us here?”

“You know how my Nova died?” Morty asked, disregarding my questions. “Unsurprisingly, being a Nova with a Ryan, she was killed by him last year. Leave him, Nova. You’ll be better for it.”

“Morty, what are you doing? Why did you bring us here?” I asked again, my own rage forming in my gut.

“Rick, why don’t you tell her what we’re doing here,” he asked smugly, flicking his wrist again to allow Rick to speak.

“You little fucking piece of shit, I’ll fucking kill you. I should’ve killed all of those fucking Morty’s when I was at that piece of shit’s fucking lair-”

Another flick of Morty’s wrist and he was silent again. “I should thank you though Rick, thanks to you I can finally go after the Citadel as I wanted.” He led Rick to a crudely made computer set up, strapping him in as he tossed a helmet on his head, flicking his wrist. “Look familiar Rick?”

“Oh jesus fucking christ, this thing again. Still depending on that Rick’s inventions to get by?” Rick spat at him viciously. Morty laughed quietly, shaking his head.

“Oh, you stupid fucking bastard,” he chuckled, forcing the helmet on Rick’s head. “Make sure Nova can see,” he ordered the other Mortys. I was finally released, rubbing my wrists gently as the Mortys led me to the screen while still keeping me a safe distance from Rick. My eyes sought his out, trying to make sense of the situation but instead, he was fixated on the screen in front of him.

A slideshow of memories played, mostly times I’d had no party to and some I had. It all kept coming back to one, my voice on repeat. “ I want you, I want you, I want you. ” It repeated over and over. Other memories would play, but that was almost like the soundtrack to them all. Rick finally broke his gaze as a memory of us facing off against a small army of gummy bears. He hesitantly let his eyes fall on me, shame forcing them away when they meet mine.

“Is that what gets you through the day?” Morty sneered at Rick. “Absolutely pathetic.”

“Why are you doing this?” my voice shook as I spoke and I continued to stare at Rick as he returned his eyes to the screen. Morty didn’t answer as a sadistic grin formed on his face. Another memory started, a late night on Beth’s couch, Rick playing with my hair as we watched an episode of Cornless. Morty’s grin faltered and he looked angry again. “What’s wrong Morty? Not finding the answers you were hoping for?”

“Ricks are incapable of love,” he growled at Rick. “What are you playing at here you old fuck?”

“We’re not incapable of love, you stupid turd,” Rick yelled back at his alternate grandson. “We just tend to think it’s a waste of fucking time.”

“So why are you wasting time on this Nova?” Morty snarled, glaring at me viciously.

“B-Because when it comes to her, i-its not a waste of time,” Rick shot back venomously. His gaze fell on me momentarily, giving me a tender look before returning to Morty. “D-Didn’t your Rick ever have a fucking Nova?”

“No,” he replied simply, his face returning to his previous emotionless composure. “He had no interest in her. He didn’t care about anyone though, it’s not exactly shocking.”

“What do you want from us, Morty?” I hissed, interrupting them. “Are you trying to get revenge because you had a shitty hand dealt to you and got a shit Rick?”

“It’s funny you ask that Nova,” he smirked, grabbing me by my arm and pulling me with surprising strength to a small chair just out of arm’s reach of Rick. “There’s something deep within him that’s going to show you his true nature. Ricks don’t care about Mortys, they don’t care about Beths and they certainly don’t care about Novas. We’re all tools for his selfish fucking gains.”

“I-Isn’t that what every one is for every fucking one else?” Rick glared. “Nova and Beth weren’t friends out of the goodness of each other's hearts. They both got something out of the friendship.”

“What does Nova get out of her ‘friendship’ with you then, Rick? How do you allow yourself to use her up until she’s wasted away like every fucking one else around you?” Morty demanded, getting so close to Rick he could surely smell the vodka on his breath.

“Wh-Why are you asking me?” Rick spat in his face. Morty took a calming breath, stepping back to wipe the saliva off of his face. “Th-That’s not up to me, that’s up to Nova.” Morty turned, looking at me expectantly.

“I-I l-like being around h-him,” I stammered, earning an eye roll from Morty. “I-I’ve always felt safe around Rick.”

“That’s all you got?” Morty scoffed, “You tolerate Rick because you like him and he makes you feel ‘safe’? That’s the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard in my life. Ricks can’t keep anyone but themselves safe.” My eyes finally met Rick’s, a surprisingly soft look in them as he nodded gently.

“You want to know why I spend every goddamn day with him, Morty?” My rage was starting to boil within me again and I stood up, towering over the small boy. “Because I love the idiot. Because I see him for more than you’ve ever seen him or your own Rick or ANY Rick for that matter. He can be gentle and tender and caring, you just have to give him an opportunity.”

“Oh, what the fuck ever-”

“No, you emotionally stunted little shit. I don’t know what your Rick did to you, I don’t care if he strapped car batteries to your fucking nipples, this is going too fucking far. This is an innocent Rick.” I turned to the Mortys surrounded us, their emotionless facade cracking. “Why are you guys even here? Why are you guys supporting this fucking lunatic Morty?” Bowl Morty, the one that had woken me up, appeared behind me, wrestling with my arms in an attempt to bind them behind my back.

“I-I’m not a lunatic,” Leader Morty snarled at me. “What are you trying to do Aunt Nova? Do you really think you can win all these Morty’s to your side? Some of them don’t even know who the fuck you are.”

“Shut up Morty,” I glared as I broke free from Bowl Morty and pushed him away from me. I dared a glance at Rick, who was slowly but silently burning away the metal bonds with his cybernetic arms. I looked into the crowd of Mortys, most of them looking up at me in confusion as their eyes bounced between their leader and me. “You- Why are you here?” I asked pointing at one of them.

“Wh-When the Evil Rick kidnapped me, he killed my entire family, I had nowhere to go,” he told me sadly.

“So you decided to launch a campaign against every Rick in existence?” I asked harshly. He winced and shrugged up at me. I sought out another one, asking him the same.

“I-I couldn’t live on the citadel. When it was destroyed, I lost my home. M-Morty found me, a-and offered me a better life. N-Now he won’t let me go home.” I ignored the pang of guilt, knowing it had been my Rick’s fault that things had gotten so fucked up for him.

“H-How many of you are here because of the destruction of the citadel?” I asked, my voice faltering despite my best efforts. All but two of them raised their hands, the Leader and Bowl Morty. I raised an eyebrow at the latter, “Why are you here?”

“Because I fucking hate Ri-” A laser grazing his shoulder interrupted him as he fell to the ground, writhing in agony. Rick had finally sawed through his bonds, grabbing the Leader Morty and wrestling him into a chair. He pulled out two small discs that expanded and wrapped around the arms of the chair and Morty’s wrists, effectively binding him to the chair.

“If the rest of you little shits want to leave here alive, you better sit down and shut up. I don’t want any fucking funny business,” Rick shot darkly at the meek boys surrounding us. A few fled down the tunnels while the rest huddled together in terror. I moved closer to offer them some form of comfort as Rick returned to their leader. “Where the fuck is our Morty?” he hissed at him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Oh, if you wanna be difficult, I have a lot of pent up rage and aggression after having my innermost feelings and thoughts put up for everyone to see,” Rick glowered. When Morty didn’t relent, Rick took a shot at his legs, missing by only a hair and instead just singeing his pants. Morty paled despite his best attempts to remain calm.

“Morty, just tell us what you did with Morty N-682,” I glared at him from the sea of Mortys now clinging to my side.

“He’s fine,” Morty shrugged as he struggled against Rick’s metallic bonds. I gently released my thigh from a weeping Morty and walked over to Morty. I put both of my hands over his, getting right next to his face.

“Tell me where the fuck my godson is,” I murmured sweetly into his ear. He squirmed beneath me, trying to resist the teenage hormones I was playing on to get him to talk.

“H-He’s on the citadel okay!” he squeaked and I pushed away from him.

“Where on the Citadel is he?” Rick snarled.

“I-I can show you.” I dug through his pockets, dismayed when the portal gun was nowhere to be found.

“H-He has one in his room.” The weeping Morty spoke up quickly before disappearing down a small rock corridor. He returned quickly, presenting us with a crudely made portal gun. The usual green swirl on the top was discolored and was more yellow than green.

“The fuck did you do to my portal gun?” Rick snarled at Leader Morty. He investigated further, quiet realization dawning on his face. “Th-This isn’t my portal gun, where is it?”

“Shattered somewhere on this planet I guess,” he grinned up at Rick, “I made this one myself.”

“You little fucking shit,” Rick growled, punching in coordinates into the citadel and opening a yellow portal in front of us. “Can’t have Nova going through a fucked-up portal. Why don’t you do us the honors.” He told Leader Morty, pushing him toward the opening.

“If it kills him, we won’t be able to find our Morty.” I murmured to Rick, much to his frustration. He grabbed Bowl Morty instead, forcefully shoving him through the abnormal portal. He seemed satisfied with the results, pushing the rest of the Mortys through before we made our way through behind them. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I reached the other side. The citadel had been mostly rebuilt and looked even better than it had before. Small statues had been erected in honor of the original council but a flyer beneath them told me they had decided to go a more democratic route in deciding who would lead the citadel for the foreseeable future.

“Now where is my Morty, you piece of garbage?” Rick demanded, pointing his laser pistol at him as he watched the captive Morty’s flee from around us, scattering to the wind. I rested my hand on his arm soothingly as he groaned in frustration.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Y-Your Morty is in Mortytown,” Leader Morty finally revealed, leading us down a dark alley into an admittedly rough part of town. Mortys eyed us distrustfully as we passed, but they all seemed to restrain when they saw me joining them. We arrived at a derelict building, not completely unlike the one Scar Rick had been living in. I led the two up the steps cautiously, much to Rick’s ire.

“It’s not fucking safe.”

“Would you prefer my untrained ass being the one ensuring this Morty doesn’t get away?” I shot back.

“You know how to use a gun right? You just pull the trigger if he starts to run,” he explained sarcastically, handing me the pistol and taking the lead. He engaged his arm gun with a couple of button presses on his arm. His pointer finger shifted into the gun barrel he had been working on, “I guess we get to find out how well it works,” he shrugged at me, edging into the building carefully as he watched our blindspots.

“Go to the top floor,” Morty told him wearily. We climbed the creaking stairs, careful to avoid falling through them as they groaned under our weight. I covered my nose and mouth at the disgusting smell that seemed to be getting stronger the higher up we went. Morty watched as I lowered my weapon and braced myself on the railing, trying to put as little weight on the distressed wood as possible. “Au-Aunt Nova, do you really think the railings in this shit heap are going to be any better than the stairs?” he chastised me. I blushed but returned my weapon to his back, following close behind until we finally reached the top floor.

“Nova, st-stay out here with this little shit,” Rick ordered softly, checking his weapon before checking the doorknob. It was surprisingly unlocked, and we were greeted with the battle roar of at least five Mortys as they sprang from within. Rick aimed at them and took them out quickly, much to my horror. Amidst the chaos, the Leader Morty slipped away from my control, whipping down the stairs quickly Before I could even attempt to get a shot off at him, he disappeared through the front door and was gone.

“I’m so sorry Rick,” I cried as he pulled me into a tight embrace. Pressed against his lapel, I was spared from the stench emanating from the room in front of us. I allowed his smell to encapsulate me, even giving me a heady feeling as he pecked small kisses on the top of my head.

“N-Nova, it's okay. You’re okay. I’ll get that little shit next time, it’ll be fine, I promise,” he consoled me, continuing to pepper kisses on my face before pulling my chin up to kiss me properly.

“R-Rick, wait.” I pulled away, covering my nose and pointing to the door in front of us. “Let’s get Morty home.” He nodded sharply, venturing further into the room. I knelt to check the Mortys that had emerged, relieved to find them still breathing from beneath me. It had been a controlled shock that Rick used to sedate them.

I breathed a sigh of relief and followed him into the dim room, gingerly feeling around on the wall in search of a light switch. The putrid stench was overwhelming, and I brought my shirt up to my nose in disgust to try to save the few nose hairs I had left. Rick flicked his flashlight on illuminating the disgusting room around us. Molded cans of vegetables littered the floor around us along with actual feces kept in buckets around the room. I couldn’t contain my disgust any more, returning to the landing to vomit spectacularly.

“Y-You okay, Nova?” Rick called from the small room, his voice getting further away.

“I-I’m just gonna stay out here with the Mortys okay?” I told him, my voice wavering under the threat of throwing up more stomach acid.

“Make sure one of them isn’t him, okay?”

At his word, I started investigating the fourteen-year-old boys splayed out in front of me. I wasn’t sure exactly how he expected me to be able to tell the difference between them, they all looked exactly the same. I thought for a moment, trying to remember some difference that would truly differentiate my Morty but I was coming up blank. Rick emerged from the disgusting apartment empty-handed, concern apparent on his face as he looked over the five Mortys on the ground.

“We’ll have to wait until they wake up,” he groaned. I was not looking forward to spending even another minute in this hellhole but thankfully as I groaned, one of the Mortys joined me in unison. He looked over at me, dazed and rubbing his head before a look of terror crossed his face. Rick grabbed him quickly, bringing his face mere inches from his own, “What dimension are you from?” he hissed at the boy.

“F-329,” Morty told him, his voice shaking. Rick released him quickly, urging him to get lost as we waited for another Morty to come to. Just as the front door slammed behind the first another Morty started waking up. I stepped in between Rick and the poor boy, opting to do the interrogating on my own.

“Hey Morty,” I started softly, “what dimension are you from kiddo?”

“R-495.” Another Morty sent packing. Two started stirring at the same time, and I glared at Rick as we approached them.

“T-580.”

“H-692.”

We eyed the last one, gingerly sitting up to look at the two of us nervously. “Where are you from?”

“N-682.”

Thank fucking god.

*+*

We used Leader Morty’s portal gun to portal home, Rick still apprehensive to use what he called “flawed technology” but it turned out he’d rather use it than ask for help from the Citadel. We arrived home safe and sound, Morty still absolutely traumatized by whatever he’d been through over the past month. Rick said nothing, instead, he led the stunned boy into the laboratory he’d built under the house. When I moved to follow them, he held up his hand and told me to stay in the garage to wait for him. I flopped into my chair, opening my laptop to scroll through my social media feeds as I waited.

“(Y/N)?”

The voice at the garage door startled me, almost knocking me completely out of my chair. “W-What do you want?” I sputtered, desperately trying to steady my breathing.

“I was hoping you’d be ready to talk about things and maybe come home?” he asked sheepishly. He started to walk into the garage but a small ceiling-mounted laser shot at his feet, stopping him in his tracks.

“No Ryan, I’m not ready to come home,” I told him flatly, disregarding his stunned face and returning to my laptop. “Madi won’t be home until the middle of August. We’ll talk then.”

“(Y/N)-”

“You heard the lady,” Rick shot at him, emerging from the basement with a chipper looking Morty at his side. “She doesn’t want to see you right now.” Ryan tried to argue, only to receive a dangerous glare from Rick before slumping his shoulders and finally walking away defeated.

“I’m going to have to deal with that soon,” I sighed, leaning back into my chair and watching Morty. “H-Hey kiddo, how ya doin?”

“I’m great Aunt Nova. I can’t believe you’re living with us now! I’m really glad you got away from Mr. Dawes,” he told me, hugging me tightly before waving goodbye and disappearing into the rest of the house.

“Wh-What did you do to him?” I asked, my eyes bugging out slightly at the sheer night and day effect Rick had produced.

“I-I just erased the last month from his memory.” Rick shrugged, pulling my arm gently to get me to stand.

“You what?” I asked nervously. He ignored my question, opting to bury his face in my hair as he embraced me instead. “You okay?” I asked hesitantly, wrapping my arms around him.

“I was so scared, Nova,” he murmured, his voice muffled by my hair. “I didn’t mean to leave you behind, I’m so sorry. I thought you were right behind me and when I turned around and you weren’t there, jesus Nova I thought you were dead,” he rambled.

“W-We’re okay,” I soothed him as his body trembled against me. I was unsure of how to help, how to soothe a man who I never thought would need it, so I just kept talking, “I’m here, I’m safe with you.”

“I just got so worked up about Morty and when you said you felt safe with me-” His voice hitched a moment and he cleared his throat before continuing, “Nova, that meant more to me than you know.” I moved to kiss him again but Beth interrupted with a quick knock on the door. We broke apart just as she pushed the door open, me returning to my chair and Rick standing over his desk, trying to look interested in whatever gadget he picked up first.

“Dad, I don’t know what you did on your adventure today, but I have to thank you for attitude change in Morty.” She walked in and immediately a suspicious look crossed her face. “I’m glad you two have gotten so close.”

“She’s just handy to have around.” Rick waved his hand dismissively at me as he wrapped his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “Don’t w-worry sweetie, you’ll always be my baby girl.”

Beth beamed under her father’s embrace and when he released her, her smile lingered. “Dinner will be done soon you two if you’re hungry.” She gave a parting wave before disappearing back into the house.

“In the other dimensions, how does Beth usually take it when they find out their father is into their best friend?” I asked nervously, staring at the door she disappeared through.

“W-Well, m-most Ricks, they, uh, try not let her find out,” Rick told me, rubbing the back of his neck.

+Ch9: Electric Feel+ 

[neshabeingchildish]

02. Charlotte's House

Henry Danger be sometimes throwing out these little one liners for lolz but, I think really hard about it at times, because there is some actually seriously toxic and abusive behaviors they’ve mentioned. So, as I’m known to do, I will be utilizing angst in this fic. This chapter features some.

Charlotte’s House

Jasper and Charlotte walked to Charlotte’s after they had been brainstorming with Ray and Henry about how to deal with Hally the Computer. Eventually, Charlotte pointed out how not only was this the responsibility of the heroes of Swellview and the “Man of the Cave,” but that as long as Ray was swinging that sword around, she wouldn’t be able to think clearly anyway. 

Jasper once again reiterated, in case anyone had forgotten, “TERRIFIED!”

Henry complained, but stopped immediately when Ray nearly killed Jasper again and he had to pull him in the other direction with the sword. 

Whenever Charlotte got home, she observed, “Well, my parents aren’t here. So if Hally sends the Man drones, at least my family won’t be killed.”

Jasper gasped, “Do you think that she would do that?”

“She 600% suctioned me out of the tube. I’m not putting anything passed Old Girl.”

“Well, you want me to stay until your parents get home, in case she does something like that?”

“How can you staying possibly help?”

“Well, I could distract the drones while you escape?” She made a face. What a crazy idea! He quickly added, “Or, for her advantage, she doesn’t have to send any to my house, because she kills both of us here.”

“Well, if I had thought this out, I’d have suggested we spend the night at your place.”

“You would spend the night at my house?”

She thought about his insufferable mother and the fact that with his small checks, he sort of had to fend for himself, more often than not. His mom locked cabinets and the fridge at certain times, since he was 7, because he was “too fat,” and just kept that horrible practice up to the point where he became a food stasher. She often forgot to buy stuff, like toilet paper, and there were no towels in there! Like… what did she want to do, bring back the Plague? 

“You got me there. I hate everything about your house.” She didn’t add And your mom, because she knew that would have been rude. “Well, I kinda like the thought of having drone bait, but trust me, if she sends any, neither of us are making it out of here. Hopefully, it doesn’t harm my face or hair. My parents want to do open casket, if anything should happen.”

He was going to comment on the greatness of her face and hair, but was more distracted by, “Why do you know that???”

“We’ve got plans for every possible conceivable life event, including death. What, you think that my organizational skills, over-analyzing, and extensive preparation was self taught?” They went inside and she let him wash up in her parents’ bathroom and borrow a robe of her dad’s. She threw his clothes from the day into the wash and went into her bathroom to wash up, as well.

Whenever she came out Jasper was sitting on the spare bed in her dad’s robe, waiting nervously. She thought she knew what this was about. He was worried about Henry. She was too, but she also didn’t feel like fighting with Hally. After her Courtney Sham scare, she wasn’t getting into any scuffles with unstable girlfriends of her friends… Even if she is a computer. She sat on the side of her bed, facing him in her pajamas with her head tied up for the night and nodded her head, “I get it. I’m not gonna sleep until I get the text that he’s alright, too. Feel like doing the thing?”

Usually, whenever they were left behind during one of the Man Cave’s dangerous missions, they came into the same room to give each other reminders of how great their friends are and that’s why they’ll come back fine. But, Jasper actually didn’t want to do that. He wasn’t in the mood. So, instead, he said, “I’m actually pretty tired, but feel kinda bad about wanting to sleep while they’re trying to battle Hally. To be honest, Henry’s probably more in danger with Ray wielding Justice than from the computer.” 

“Get your sleep, Jasper. I’ll feel better knowing at least one of us has some peace.” He nodded, but remained sitting for a moment. He looked like he had something to say. “What is it?” She asked.

Jasper wanted to tell her that he’d been thinking about her lately, that he’d been feeling things, and he wanted her to feel things too. But the chances of that, this soon were slim. He hadn’t put in enough work yet. “Nothing. Goodnight, Charlotte.” He laid down as she simply nodded her head. She was awake for a while longer, until she got the call from Henry.

She got up, so that she wouldn’t wake Jasper and she stepped out. “Henry! Did you get things taken care of?”

“It’s a good news, bad news scenario.”

“Is Hally gone?”

“Yep.”

“So, that’s the good news. And the bad?”

“Ray crumbled the platinum Frittle.”

“OH MAN!” She squealed. She heard Jasper groan in his sleep and she silently scolded herself for being loud, and peeked in. He was still asleep, but seemed like he was having a nightmare. In fact, he seemed extremely shaken up. “Ugh. I’m gonna go. I think Jasper’s having a bad dream.”

“Jasper’s over? Cool. Should I come crash, too?”

“Do you need to?” She was about to go to bed, now that she knew he was safe, but she supposed she could leave the window open. 

“Not really. Just starting to feel more and more left out with the two of you.”

She laughed and said, “That’s silly. You just have more responsibilities, so we end up together more. He’s only here tonight because he didn’t want me to be alone. But, I gotta check on him. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Click.”

“Click.”

Jasper was squirming and sweating, so Charlotte was unsure if she should touch him or anything. She adjusted the air, covered him up, set the diffuser and whenever she got near him, he jumped up and shouted. She shouted too and covered her chest. “Jasper, are you okay?” He nodded, but he was breathing hard. “Jasper?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Sometimes, I have nightmares. Never should have went to sleep without knowing if Henry was okay.” That was partially true. He felt like the nightmare of Man drones flying in and murdering Charlotte in her sleep was punishment for going to sleep on her when Henry was out there risking his skin.

“Well, he is fine. They got rid of Hally.” She was rubbing Jasper’s face and didn’t realize it until his eyes went towards her hands. She abruptly let go and wondered, “You wanna talk about it?” 

He shook his head. “Sorry if I woke you up or anything.”

“I was just about to go to sleep… You sure that you’re okay?”

“I won’t disturb you.” He laid back down, feeling weak and embarrassed. Great going. Now, she was never gonna take him seriously… 

Then, Charlotte surprised him. She grabbed some lavender oil and sat at the foot of the bed, “Do you mind if I touch you to try to help you sleep?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he said, looking down at her. She smiled gently and took one of his feet. “I’m ticklish!” He warned.

“Awwww,” she cooed. “Well, I just want to try some reflexology massage to help with your stress. Something’s bothering you to have such intense nightmares.”

“It could have been worse. Sometimes, it’s sleep paralysis.” He felt relaxed already. “Whenever I was researching stuff on the WTF is Wrong with Me app…”

“You actually use that app?” She snickered when she asked it.

“I have to. Can’t afford therapy and my mom honestly doesn’t chat me up about my issues because she has a guilty conscious. It’s not as easy being a weirdo as I make it seem.”

“You do come across as extremely comfortable being offbeat.”

“Never had much of a choice. It was either I love me for me or hate myself. Figured other people hated me enough, starting with my parents. You and Henry are the only people that I have.” She bit her lip. “Sorry! That’s a bit much. I should just shut up.”

“No. You’re relaxed and talking through whatever you have going on. Friends can do that.”

“I first started looking into it… well… whenever I was…” he sighed and asked, “Remember whenever you said I was the Playground Pooper and I mentioned in passing my struggles with potty training?”

“I very vividly remember that, even though we glazed right over it.” She had actually forgotten about it, but now that he mentioned it - of course she remembered that weird ass justification!

"Because who has accidents that late in life? I wanted to see. As far as I can tell - stress, neglect, and emotional abuse from my mom.” Jasper gasped. He hadn’t meant to say that. He was getting too relaxed, now. “I hate that I’m pouring out like this…” She couldn’t think of anything to say, so he kept going, trying to somehow fix some of this. “Sometimes, people that you might think are just stupid are actually emotionally traumatized. Our brains develop differently whenever we grow up with stuff our minds can’t handle. I read a bunch of articles about that.”

“Jasper.. I had no idea it was that bad. I mean, your mom is a horror, for sure. And I have thought on numerous occasions that her ways weren’t healthy. But I didn’t know that you were nightmares and bedwetting stressed out because of her.”

“I haven’t wet the bed in years,” he reminded her.

“Right. But… 4 years ago is less time than Henry has been doing his work!” She let go of his foot and said, “You seem embarrassed, but really, you should be proud. You went out to figure yourself out and helped yourself, without any support from her or me and Henry - because I know that if I didn’t know, he probably didn’t either.. Not everyone is so independent.” She yawned. What a terrible time to do that, but God, she was exhausted.

“Hey.. thanks for letting me talk, but you should get some sleep. After that reflexology thing, I’m going back.”

“Well, the lavender I used probably helped.”

“You’re the greatest, Charlotte. I swear. Good night.”

She tried to fight the tingling she felt when he said that. “Good night to you.” Weird. Tingles? I must really be tired.

.

Charlotte woke up the next day excited to find out if Jasper has slept well the second time around, but apparently, he had enough time to get dressed, fold her dad’s robe and leave it on the spare bed, send her a thank you text, and bail before she got up. She sighed, unsure of what she was bothered by. 

He’d let her know in the text that he has to get home because his mom was calling. He told her thank you for the space, the sleep, and the talk. He even made a rose out of characters. Why was she salty that she didn’t get to actually check in with him this morning? She rolled her eyes at herself and got up to get ready for work. Since Hally wasn’t there, she guessed it’d be business as usual. So, she wasn’t going to treat Jasper any differently for his confessions last night. She would never bring it up again, unless he needed to. She did feel like there was some kind of shift in how she saw him though. Who’d have thought that her goofy, silly, but sweet friend was really a wounded, self-aware man of mystery? Wait, should I feel bad for sort of thinking that traumatized Jasper is kind of… attractive? “Yes! Yes, you should feel bad and you shall never mention this again or even think about it!”

[overanalyzingelswordiswhatido]

The Depths of Time Snippet

(For a little bit of context I decided to make up my own alternate timeline to include and that's where this snippet is from)

​Add turned to tell the plan to his mother but before he could say a word, a crazed voice called from behind him, “I see you finally crawled out of whichever hole you disappeared into.” Add whipped around and stared. It seemed getting information out of Elsword was officially out of the question. The swordsman now stood five feet in front of Add, a sneer plastered across his face and his red hair spiked up and back. His eyes had a strange glassy gleam in them. Black and red armor wrapped around his body. Instead of hold a sword in his hands, two blades extended from… his forearms?

According to a surface scan from Dynamo, Elsword's arms and legs were either replaced or fused with Nasod technology. Add couldn't tell which without getting a closer look but they were already standing too close to each other. He had no intention of closing that distance. Not with his mother right there.

Elsword gave him a sinister grin, “Sis will be overjoyed to see you.”

“How exciting,” Add rolled his eyes, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Elesis was probably the last person he wanted to meet. He didn't plan on waiting around for her to arrive either. Ignoring the questioning look his mother gave him for now, he grabbed her hand and half dragged her around the pillar. He picked her up and stepped onto Dynamo. He zipped back across the bridge and past the building he arrived in.

“Who was that?” His mother asked.

“Elsword apparently,” Add shrugged. “Something clearly went very wrong.” This timeline was more complicated than he originally thought. He spared a glance over his shoulder and muttered curses. While it was somewhat of a relief Elsword wasn't trying to follow, Add didn't fancy dealing with birds of prey either, Nasod or otherwise. Using three Dynamos he knocked the closest ones out of the air. They exploded on impact with the ground far below. The next closest birds opened their beaks and started charging lasers.

“Tch. Damn.” Add dropped closer to the ground. The longer the distance they had to fire the easier it was for him to avoid the attack. Since Elesis was supposedly so happy to see him, he assumed whatever happened to Elsword happened to her too. That didn't bode well for him. Or anyone really. Crazy Elesis was not something he wanted to deal with. Dealing with a normal sane one was hard enough. Either way, her prowess in battle was not something that could be overlooked. To do so was completely stupid. She was well known even in the demon realm for good reason.

He stuck his tongue out. This was such a hassle. There weren't that many of those birds, maybe twenty at the most. He craved the exhilaration and adrenaline of fighting but he couldn't. It was his responsibility to protect his mother and he refused to fail her under any circumstances. “Dynamo. Scan the area. Look for cover.”

Dynamo located a cave complex nearby. A bright purple line faded into the distance in front of him. Since they were near Hamel, it was a safe bet they were the caves with the spider creatures in them. Oh well. It was better than nothing. Add followed the path set for him. Hopefully the things were all dead. Being eaten alive was not a part of his plan. Not that he thought to make a plan but that wasn't the point.

With everything else faded into a dull background noise, Add was able to focus on where he was going. He couldn't afford any distractions. Outmaneuvering the lasers was an easy task, but that didn't mean they wouldn't be caught if he got sidetracked. It wasn't until they were deep within the safety of the caves that he set his mother down. Dynamo scanned the surrounding complex for anything that was alive without being prompted. The results brought back nothing. Add chuckled, “I wonder if there are corpses.”

“Corpses?” His mother repeated.

“Oh.” Add waved his hand dismissively, “Weird spider things hang out in these caves in our timeline but Dynamo can't find anything that's alive.”

She nodded, “Ah.” Her gaze turned toward the entrance, “What's your plan, Edward?”

“Well, I can take care of those Nasod birds no sweat,” Add grinned. “Then we need to track down a group of weirdos called the El Search Party. They'll know what's going on better than most anyone else.” He barely managed to refrain from calling them dumbasses, which definitely counted as a win for him. The search party was always eyebrows deep in everybody else's problems well before he heard of them. That didn't change the slightest bit after he very reluctantly joined. Whether so many of them were affected by what was going on or not, they were still the best ones to ask about it. It was an added bonus that they were already involved.

Add shifted his weight from one foot to the other while he waited for his mother to respond. He was itching for a fight but he wasn't going anywhere without her approval. Many moments passed before she nodded, “Be careful.”

He smiled, “Of course!” There was no way he was dropping dead now. Not when his adventure with her just started. “Let's go, Dynamo.” He headed back out of the cave and stopped just inside the entrance. He looked up. The birds circled above him, waiting for any sign of movement so they could attack. He laughed. It was arrogant of them to think they were the predators in this situation.

[zrtranscripts]

Season 8, Mission 13: On The Rocks

Here we stand

~

SAM YAO: Janine, I'm really not sure you should be pushing yourself like this.

JANINE DE LUCA: Saying it a 38th time will not discourage me any more than the previous 37, Mr. Yao.

SAM YAO: Look, a few days ago you could barely stand, and now you're running around like nothing's wrong. The potion Five got from the scientists on Dearg might have slowed down the nanites, but you're still... [sigh] I mean, you're not well, Janine. I can tell by looking at you.

JANINE DE LUCA: Mr. Yao, since Jones destroyed the armory, zombies have been encroaching on this island in ones and twos. We now have run out of what little ammunition survived Jones' attack. The patrols at the caves can no longer fend off the zombies approaching from the sea.

Reports from last night suggest that the previously dormant zombies on Niomh Island are on the move. Fewer zombies are visible on the island. Several have been observed walking into the sea. All indication is that there is a large horde headed toward Mor Island underwater.

We have no effective weapons, no cure, and no support coming. As the most experienced tactical mind on this island, it would be grossly irresponsible for me to spend this time reclining!

SAM YAO: Well... yeah. Okay. I mean, I can't argue the point. But still!

JANINE DE LUCA: Five, plans are underway for a defense against the coming horde, but time is short. I will brief you on our strategy as we make the final preparations. Our first stop is with Dr. Cohen in the center of town. Let's go.

~

[crowd chatters]

JANINE DE LUCA: Keep going through the town square, Five. As you can see, the streets are abuzz with people evacuating their houses. Dr. Cohen ought to be near the clock tower, coordinating the effort.

MORAG BROWN: You're ordering these people to leave their homes!

PAULA COHEN: We discussed this at the town hall, Morag. We can't defend a town of this size.

MORAG BROWN: Some families have had these homes for generations. It's our right to die where we've lived!

JANINE DE LUCA: Dr. Cohen. Miss Brown, nobody has to die here. We are putting a plan in place.

MORAG BROWN: And if you had any confidence in this plan, you wouldn't be sending all the children off the island in rowboats!

JANINE DE LUCA: Miss Brown, we are decamping as many as we can to secure buildings in the archipelago. There simply aren't enough boats to get everyone out in time. Everyone else must relocate to the laird's residence. It's the largest and most secure building on the isle.

MORAG BROWN: Don't you think I bloody know that? Do you not see I'm just bloody terrified? Bloody outsiders. Judgment Day comes and you expect the blitz bloody spirit from everyone in sight. And you, William Donny! I see you trying to load a stereo into that wheelbarrow.

SAM YAO: She's got a point, Janine. These people are scared. They think they're going to die.

JANINE DE LUCA: That's why it's important they see us here, readying to defend them.

PAULA COHEN: Here. Jody got the local carpenters to break down all the furniture we could find to make arrows. There's about a hundred in the bags. You shouldn't be on your feet, Janine. I trust Sam's been going on about it?

SAM YAO: I really have.

JANINE DE LUCA: I trust you are wiser than he, Dr. Cohen.

PAULA COHEN: It's your choice, Janine. I know how frustrating it is to fight your own body.

JANINE DE LUCA: As with any battle, Doctor, it begins with squaring one's mindset. Come on, Five. These arrows are needed on the beach, and we must deliver them. Run!

~

[zombie moans, bow string stretches, arrow thuds into zombie skull]

JODY MARSH: Good shot, Dr. Hines! Right in the forehead of that zombie.

JANINE DE LUCA: Miss Marsh, how goes the archery?

JODY MARSH: We've got zombies shambling onto the beach in small groups. This dune is pretty good for taking them out. It overlooks the surf. And of the six islanders who've volunteered to learn archery, turns out four are pretty good.

SAM YAO: Can you see the birds, Janine? I don't have any cams on Faoileig Sands.

[seagulls caw]

JANINE DE LUCA: We see them. See that huge vortex of gulls on the horizon, Five? Those birds mark the zombie approach. There's a large horde underwater and bits of their flesh are drifting to the surface, attracting scavengers. Miss Marsh, we bring you arrows from town. The evacuation is underway. How long can your archers hold this beach?

JODY MARSH: We're okay dealing with small numbers, but when the bulk of that horde arrives...

JANINE DE LUCA: Understood. Your job is to buy the evacuation as much time as you can, then fall back. That is phase one of the plan. Watch out for that large man carrying a log, Runner Five!

SAM YAO: And who is he, exactly?

JODY MARSH: That's Albert. Hebrides caber tossing champion three years running. He's going to chuck logs at the zoms when we fall back, buy us extra time to get away.

JANINE DE LUCA: Local ingenuity at its finest. Come along, Five. Our next stop is the laird, and he won't want us to be late. Run.

~

[crowd chatters]

JANINE DE LUCA: There's the laird's manor, Five. Rather reminds me of a boarding school I once infiltrated. And that's the laird, addressing the crowd at his door.

LAIRD REID: Everybody into the house! There's plenty of room to spare. We've got blankets and board games. Please don't touch anything that looks more than a hundred years old! Colonel De Luca, as directed, the townspeople are flocking into my humble home. [metal clatters] Oi, that was a 16th century suit of armor! Try to be careful!

JANINE DE LUCA: It looks like you have things under control.

LAIRD REID: I have the [?] you requested. The accordion and pipes from my family's musical collection. Jones has brought a terrible darkness to this island, Colonel. I cannot thank you enough for working to destroy – [glass shatters] Excuse me. I must keep the crowd under control.

SAM YAO: Uh, just got an update from Jody, Janine. She says the gulls are over halfway to shore.

JANINE DE LUCA: Then we must hurry. I expect you're curious about the musical instruments, Five. They are phase two. Chief Macallan is awaiting them near the wind farm. Run.

~

[music from various instruments including bagpipes]

JANINE DE LUCA: There's Chief Macallan, Five, by that stream just east of the wind farm.

SAM YAO: Yeah, I've got cams up in the area. Looks like the chief has all his deputies with him, and – the church choir? All playing instruments! Fiddles, drums, horns. Like a really weird folk band.

JANINE DE LUCA: This is phase two, Five. Chief Macallan and those locals are an improvised noisemaker. [shouts]

DUNCAN MACALLAN: Colonel De Luca, are you all right?

JANINE DE LUCA: Just a sprain, Chief Macallan. I assume Dr. Cohen delivered my briefing to you?

DUNCAN MACALLAN: Paula stopped by the station first thing this morning. As I understand it, we're just to stand here and make lots of noise.

JANINE DE LUCA: The zombies must be pulled well away from the laird's manor. You will create noise to draw them to this location. It's vital you do not let them get too close to you or your people. The instant you hear moans in the distance, you must drop your instruments and withdraw.

DUNCAN MACALLAN: Aye, to the caves half a mile from here, you said. You're sure we can hide there from the zoms?

JANINE DE LUCA: This spot was chosen for its proximity to a good hiding place, and the zombies will be preoccupied by our final distraction.

DUNCAN MACALLAN: Colonel, safeguarding this island should be my job. Jones, and now this...

JANINE DE LUCA: We rise to the occasion, Chief. I have no doubt you will. Five, next is our final stop. the cliffs to the south. With me. Run!

~

JANINE DE LUCA: These cliffs are rather dramatic, aren't they, Five? [laughs]

SAM YAO: Jody just checked in, Janine. More and more zoms are coming ashore.

JANINE DE LUCA: Understood, Mr. Yao. Look to your left, Five. See Shona and that group of islanders? More volunteer defenders. They're equipped with pitchforks in case of combat, but combat is not the plan. [zombies moans] Look to your right. There is a zombie secured to a boulder with rope, caught by Tom wandering a beach this morning. It is safe. Tom is standing vigil with a claymore.

SAM YAO: That is one very Highlander sword. Only sharp weapon in the laird's collection, apparently.

TOM DE LUCA; We're all ready for the demonstration. I could perform the demo instead, Janine, if you need it.

JANINE DE LUCA: What I need, Tom, is to feel like myself. I'm an asset, never a burden.

TOM DE LUCA: Janie, you're saving this whole island! You'll always be asset condition 1. All right, I'm going to cut all but one of the rope lines restraining the zombie, then stand back. It won't take long for the zom to break free of the final rope.

JANINE DE LUCA: Five, you take position over there. I will stay here. Shona's already seen a McShell maneuver in action. Now you and I will demonstrate it to the rest. When the zombie is free, you run right, and I go left. The zombie will be caught in the middle and will march over the cliff. Don't worry about me, Five. I know I can do this!

TOM DE LUCA: Ropes cut. The zombie's breaking free. That didn't take long. It's going straight for you!

JANINE DE LUCA: Five, run!

~

[zombie growls]

JANINE DE LUCA: Good job, Five. That zombie went straight over the cliff.

SHONA: So there you go, folks. That's what a McShell maneuver looks like. The zombie just gets caught in the middle.

TOM DE LUCA: Zombies get rather confused when prey is equidistant. They just keep going in a straight line.

JANINE DE LUCA: Hence plan three of our defense strategy. Once Chief Macallan lures the zombies to a designated point, Five and I will close in on them from either side. We will herd them over this cliff to smash on the rocks below.

SAM YAO: It's tricky to keep a McShell stable for long, Janine. What if something goes wrong?

JANINE DE LUCA: That is what Shona and her volunteers are for. Now that they've seen how it's done, if Five and I fail, Tom can lead them in making a second attempt.

SHONA: The rocks down there should be enough to splat the zoms when they go over, but just in case, some of us climbed down this morning and coiled barbed wire nets over the rocks. Any zoms that don't get pulped will get tangled up in it. The tides'll tear them apart.

JANINE DE LUCA: A very sensible additional defense.

SHONA: Least we can do when you're doing so much for us.

SAM YAO: Got another update from the beach, Janine. The horde's almost there.

JANINE DE LUCA: And our plan is in place. Miss Marsh delays the zombies, Chief Macallan lures them, and Five and I throw them off a cliff. I won't lie, the chances of every element working as intended are slim. We must perform at our best. I have seen enough communities fall to the zombie apocalypse. I do not intend to see another! On this island, here and now, this is where we make a stand!

~

[up-sideand-down]

Here We Go Again

I said I was thinking about a Mamma Mia-esque AU with some ABBA lyrics in there. I wasn’t lying. This is it. 

AO3 Link

Cloud fussed with her mother’s sweater after she finished pouring tea. Claudia swatted her daughter’s hand away with a nod towards their guest. Tifa, used to the Strife’s silent arguments, was more than happy to put sugar in her own tea.

“I had hoped you weren’t hurt too badly,” Claudia said, “I told them they needed to take better care of the guides.” Tifa just shrugged, scratching under the strap of her arm sling.

“It’s just a scratch, but it could be a fracture,” she said with a shrug, “They told me to keep it like this for today to let their Materia heal it if that’s the case.”

“I take it you’re not going up there again though,” Claudia said. Tifa looked disappointed.

“No,” she said, “I would, but…whatever monsters that reactor made…they’re too tough, even for me.” Tifa smirked at Cloud’s snort. Claudia gave her daughter a disapproving look, but ignored it.

“That’s…kinda why I asked to come over,” Tifa admitted, “I’m not going back, so…those ShinRa guys will need a new guide.” Cloud knew where this was going.

“No,” Cloud said, “I’ve had enough of ShinRa for a lifetime.”

“It’d just be a couple days,” Tifa said, “And everybody knows you’re the best-“

“I’m retired,” Cloud said, adding one more cube of sugar to her mother’s tea.

“Cloud Strife,” Claudia said sternly, “You are 20 years old and too young to live off that retirement package…especially with my doctor’s bills.”

“And they are paying, Cloud,” Tifa said, “Paying very well.”

“Oh yeah,” Cloud said, “How much is this pay?” She blew on her tea before taking a sip. Probably half of what her infantry pay was.

Tifa told her.

Cloud choked. Her mother pat her on the back, a little smugly.

“That’s almost triple my salary when I was in Midgar,” Cloud said, “those assholes were holding out on me.”

“That’s why…I think you should do it,” Tifa said. Cloud caught the look she gave Claudia.

“You knew she was going to ask,” Cloud said. Claudia looked saddened.

“What’s the name of the game, Ma?” she asked.

“Chiquitita,” Ma said, “I hate to see you like this, you’re so sad, so quiet. You’re draining yourself dry to take care of me,” Claudia said, “At least with this…I can know you’ll have something leftover when I’m…”

“With that kind of money,” Cloud started, “I could move us to Mideel…where that clinic is.”

“And…you are the best shot in this town,” Tifa added, “by far.”

“Your gun still work?” Cloud asked her mother.

“What am I a fool?” Claudia said, “Of course it does, Chiquitita.” And Cloud sighed.

“Alright…how do I get started.”

Habit made her tuck her hair under her beanie. She suddenly missed that god awful helmet as the SOLDIERs came up. Three of them. This monster things must have been serious if they sent three SOLDIERs. She remembered them well enough from her infantry days. A lot of her comrades hoped to join them. She had too for a while. She had long since given up on the idea.

She had liked Commander Hewley well enough. He had the foresight to tell her to ignore Private Hessen. She hadn’t heard of the third one before. He must have just arrived because she hadn’t seen him before. She’d remember seeing someone with silver hair.

“Nice…another hot chick,” the young man who had to be Hessen said, “You sure know how to pick ��em Hewley.”

“I’m certain Angeal chose her because she knows the area much better than you do,” the newbie said.

“I chose her because she was the only volunteer,” Hewley said, “though I’m sure she’d be happy to walk away due to your attitude Blake. Giving us another day without a decent guide and leaving us stuck here.” Cloud detected the disapproval in Hewley’s voice and noticed Hessen wilt a little. She didn’t smirk…completely.

“Besides,” Hewley stated, “Ms. Strauss does have a resume history with the company.”

“So…we have a private Strauss?” Hessen said.

“Corporal,” Cloud corrected, “and I’m sorry to order you about but I suggest we start moving. I’m not comfortable taking the bridge.”

“Why not?” Hessen challenged.

“Because I’ve been on it when it’s snapped before,” Cloud replied, “And the town can’t always afford to do scheduled maintenance on it. Once we get down in the valley I can get you through the cave system. There will probably be more of those…monster things y’all are looking for on my path.” Hessen wisely kept his mouth shut.

“Then lead away Ms. Strauss,” Hewley said. Cloud readjusted her weapon.

The incident with Tifa must have startled the SOLDIERs. The moment she heard the growl they pushed her back and unsheathed their weapons. They didn’t tell her to stay put, but it was heavily implied. A little insulting, but Cloud had seen enough SOLDIERs to know they could do things she just couldn’t.

She did, however, take them ditching her as full permission to load her weapon. She heard the howls and knew it was probably Fangs. The mako probably drove them insane. Made them unafraid of humans and so much stronger.

She saw Hewley start at her first shot. He noted the dead Fang behind him. Hewley held one cupped hand over his head, asking her to cover them as they fought. She had permission to shoot. She smiled.

“Couldn’t let us have all of them,” Hessen grumbled.

“She was covering us,” Hewley said nudging the Private, “which is how she is earning triple rate for being our guide. Besides, we are to expect a lot of hostile activity. There will be bigger and harder things the deeper in we go. She’s helping us keep some stamina so we can save the ethers.”

“I thought I recognized you,” the silver haired one said more softly, “You were the runner-up in the sharp-shooter contest 8 months ago.” She just shrugged.

“Your hair was shorter then,” he noted.

“Military regulation,” Cloud offered, “I see it doesn’t apply to all SOLDIERs though.”

“I heard the Turks talking about recruiting you,” the man continued.

“They offered,” she admitted, “but I had to come home.”

“For what it’s worth…I don’t think you would be the best Turk…their cover fire is not as…precise.” Cloud smiled at that.

“That is either the strangest flirt or the most sincere compliment,” she said, “I’ll take the latter.”

“That’s…what it was.” She fought not to laugh at him.

“Sephiroth, quit weirding out the guide,” Hessen said, “I may still have a shot.”

“Only in your nightmares,” Cloud replied.

Ten Years Later

Zack sneezed at the cloud of dust that puffed when he moved the next box in the storage room.

“Bless you,” His Ma said, “but…what do you think?” Zack looked around the cluttered room. He saw a window, a nice little cove to put a bed, empty walls to put up his pictures and posters …yea he could visualize the first room he would have all to himself

“I think it’s perfect,” Zack said. His Ma ruffled his hair.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep any of it?” he asked. Ma blue a wayward spike of blonde hair out of her face.

“Well if you want to go through it, that can be your job,” she said, “I haven’t looked at most of this crap in years.”

“I can price some stuff then,” Zack said, drawing a smiley face in the dust on a cabinet.

“Deal,” she said, “we’ll cart, you organize. I’ll get Barret with that lift.” Zack ran down to the room he shared with his mom and pulled out one of his washable markers before dashing back down to the storage room that hadn’t been lived in since his Gran was alive. He heard various people calling for his Ma, her own voice arguing back. Running a hotel was a tough business…especially in a vacation spot like Mideel, but she made do. Zack had saved various travel articles that praised their little hotel. Small and cozy, but good service and lovely views. With a short jaunt to some mako fountains. She was probably hoping to use the money selling most of this stuff to start building that addition she was planning.

Let’s see the cabinet was dusty, but sturdy. Looked like it would fit in their dining room or more sparse guestrooms. If not keeping 50 Gil.

Boxes of old books. 1 Gil per book.

Another box of books

An old tool box. Give to Cid or sell for 30 Gil.

Some old curtains it seemed. Clean and sell for 20 Gil.

Another box of…scrapbooks. Zack paused. He pulled one out. He opened it gently. It had been buried and spared most of the dust. He recognized his mother instantly, even as a baby. Her hair was still blonde and spiky and her eyes so blue.

Actually…his baby pictures looked an awful lot like hers. He flipped through pausing and smiling at how carefully Gran had put this together.

Cloud, 5 years, summer festival — featuring Ma in a flower crown.

Cloud, 8 years, after winning King of the Hill — featuring Ma with a wooden sword, held triumphantly over her head.

Cloud, 10 years, first hunt —Ma with Gran’s gun slung on her back. He set it aside too look over later. Then a photo slipped out. Zack picked it up.

It wasn’t a photo, but a newspaper article with a picture. He furrowed his brow. He recognized his Ma. She didn’t match the other’s uniforms, just dressed comfortably, with her hair tucked under a hat. It was what she wore when they went hiking together. He didn’t know those men though. Or their uniforms. The belts looked somewhat familiar.

“ShinRa ending mako monster rampages,” the headline read.

ShinRa SOLDIER agents ready to depart with guide Cloud Strife, the picture caption said. His heart leapt a little at that. This must have been what SOLDIER uniforms looked like 10 years ago. His heart almost stopped as he looked closer at the men.

He sprinted out of the room, nearly knocking Barret off balance. He didn’t hear Barret shouting at him to watch where he was going, or to get back here and help him. He sprinted back up to his room, digging through his drawers to find some of his posters. He found the one from ShinRa…the one his mom hated. He unrolled it, kneeling on it until he could see the face he was looking for. He held the newspaper photo up to it.

They matched. The newspaper version was much younger, but they were a match.

His mother had worked with Sephiroth—the Sephiroth—once before. He couldn’t squash the thought.

He’d asked Ma dozens of times, perhaps thousands. He loved her with all his heart…but he wanted to know. He was curious as to who his Dad was. Why he wasn’t here. Ma always promised to tell him when he was older. It still hurt sometimes.

And now all Zack wanted to know was if it was possible for Sephiroth to be his Dad. He was ten years old…and this article was from ten years ago.

Was it possible?

Cloud walked into the storage where Barret was chastising her missing son. She shook her head, then saw the book. She smiled at her Mother’s handiwork. She had loved making these books. She touched a few photos that featured her late mother. There was a piece of paper glued on the back page. She read it with a sad smile on her face. A poem from her mother, a song really, telling her to cheer up. It was exactly what her mother would do.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t throw everything out,” she said to herself.

“What you wanna keep the wardrobe now?” Barret said.

“Not that dummy!” Cloud said, “Zack get back down here and help if you want your own room!”

“Coming Ma!” She shook her head, but set the scrapbooks aside, with a gentle pat.

Chiquitita, you and I know

How the heartaches come and they go and the scars they're leaving

You'll be dancing once again and the pain will end

You will have no time for grieving

Chiquitita, you and I cry

But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you

Let me hear you sing once more like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

Try once more like you did before

Sing a new song, Chiquitita

— Keep singing for me Cloud. With all the love from your Ma.

[aliferous-ly]

For When There’s Nothing Left To Do: Chapter One

Chapter Summary: Roman meets a mysterious stranger who only introduces himself as “Anxiety”. They decide to travel together. Strength in numbers, after all. 

Pairings: eventual LAMP, chapter contains prinxiety

Warnings: swearing, fear, anxietyyy, wyrm?, self deprication, wounds

Read on AO3

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine

Art by @anxious-but-whatever (i cri) [here!!]

Roman vaguely regretted parts of his actions. Of course, he lived life looking forwards, not backwards, but perhaps he’d been a bit rash. A bit. His place back home, as impersonal, lonely, and pathetic as it was, seemed palace-like now.

And, of course, there was food. And warmth. Warmth was a big part of that. “That” being his desire to go home.

Teeth chattering, Roman wondered if extreme chill caused one’s very thoughts to stutter.

Being cold... well, Roman didn’t do “cold”. He never got cold. Usually he retained enough energy to remain under respectable body temperatures. Usually he went to bed in his feather-stuffed comforter, too, but usually wasn’t his life anymore, was it?

Roman allowed his eyes to stray to the only being within miles, probably. They shivered, almost imperceptibly, curled into their body and face trained towards the quickly freezing earth.

Roman gazed at the sputtering fire, fingers twitching underneath his cloak.

“You’d think the stars would show up away from the city,” Roman heard himself say. His companion glanced at him in something akin to surprise, perhaps irritation.

“It’s not like we’re in the plains,” his companion said, voice blank. “There’s trees. Surprise, stars can be blocked by foliage.”

Irritated, then. Roman could work with this.

“There are still places where you can see the sky,” Roman countered, tensing his arms and rubbing them against his sides.

“Apparently not enough for your entitled ass,” they muttered, slowly but surely bending into a ball.

“Ex-cuse me for wanting to see the stars,” Roman said, infusing his voice with as much sarcasm as he could muster. “I should’ve known you’d want to be in pitch dark.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” they said sharply, dark eyes glaring at Roman, their pupils flickering in the firelight.

“Twas a dark and stormy night, and the emo prince of Darkness decided to creep out of their cave of the damned,” Roman said in a stage whisper, wiggling his fingers for effect before tucking his hands back against his body.

They flinched a little too violently to be justified, eyes staring daggers into the ground. “When I creep out of the depths of hell, you mean. And, he/him, but I didn’t think you’d be considerate.”

Roman didn’t mention the way the man’s voice warbled, saying instead, “of course, cave of the damned being the entrance to the depths of hell. And who am I to assign such labels?”

A soft noise came from his figure which Roman decided to interpret as a laugh, or in the least, a soft snort. In the dead of the night, Roman felt as if anything could happen.

“How did you end up here?” Roman asked, voice soft. Before he could respond he continued with, “I think I’m young enough to restart, but I don’t know if I want to. Sometimes I feel forced into... life.”

An audible silence stretched between the two and Roman maintained his gaze, his companion’s figure seeming to fade into the dusty background as the quiet continued.

“I left,” he said, and Roman nearly started at his voice. It was... gentle, and scratchy, full of more emotion than the dry sarcasm from before. “I left because I am tired of being forced into life.”

“You’re more admirable than I,” Roman said, pushing sincerity into his tone, because he knew that more often than not he leaned towards superfluous and gaudy tones, inaccurate to his true feelings. He needed him to, well, to know that he was more than his (amazing) dramatic exterior, than his (beautiful) loud voice, than his (...) irritating personality.

“Doubtful,” he said, voice like a steel trap. Something clogged in Roman’s throat and he found himself unable to respond.

Icy fingers of wind pushed past Roman’s clothes, scratching goosebumps onto his skin and trailing a deep chill against his bones. Roman ignited his inner flame, his personal furnace, and nearly missed the way the man across the (dying, flickering, shrinking) fire shuddered violently.

“We should get some rest,” Roman said pointedly, rising with legs like logs and crusted joints.

He glanced at him without moving his head. “Alright.”

When he didn’t move from their seat, Roman frowned. “Well, are you coming?”

“I don’t have a tent,” he pointed out, jerking his arms to his body and tensing.

“I am aware,” Roman said slowly. “You’re using my tent.”

“Yeah, right,” he said, sarcasm and dry tone returning full force. “Where would you sleep?”

“My tent,” Roman said, amusement shining through.

Willing to bet he had no response forthcoming, Roman started towards his tent, pausing to look over his shoulder. “It’s either my tent or the embers.”

“I could just die,” he said instantly. Roman couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, and he didn’t particularly want to challenge that notion.

“I can’t have your death on my conscious,” Roman said instead. “C’mon.”

When he still hesitated (Roman couldn’t imagine why; he’d shared sleeping quarters with other men multiple times. Not necessarily wonderful times, more like packed together during training, but it was experience nonetheless), Roman held his arms out. “Have I lead you wrong yet?”

“Jury’s still out,” he said, words jumping out of his mouth. Roman shrugged helplessly and he stood, finally, stretching only slightly (the wind chilled anything that it touched).

Smirking to himself, Roman turned on his heel and started towards his tent, trusting he would follow. He’d set up the tent not too far from the fire on purpose, and Roman opened the flap, waving his arm through with a dramatic, “after you.”

He glared at him, understandably so, and ducked under the entrance.

“What should I call you?” Roman said, realizing that while they had traveled all day together, he’d never received his name.

“My name is–” he cut themselves off, then said, “You can call me... Anxiety.”

“Anxiety?” Roman thought out loud. “I’m assuming that is not your name, then?”

“No,” he said, notably lacking regret. “Names hold power.”

A series of images flashed through Roman’s mind’s eye. “Very true.”

His scabbard, holding his run-of-the-mill iron training sword, felt hollow.

After preparing for sleeping, exchanging a few more quips with Anxiety, and settling underneath the cloth, the brunt of the day hit Roman full force.

Oh hell, was he really out in the Perilous Forest?

Originally he considered the name a joke, because who named, or called, a forest “Perilous?” It didn’t seem serious at all. Of course, he’d never entered the forest before. No matter how funny Roman thought the name was, Perilous Forest was not to be taken lightly.

Having traveled before in less than desirable conditions, Roman assumed himself up to the task, but the moment he set foot in the Perilous Forest, he just... knew.

It was only describable to those who’d entered before. Simply knowing that the area you walked through was... less than average. Weird. “Strange things happen here, unexplainable things” kind-of weird.

That, and he saw a blood-red fox within fifteen minutes. They had blinked at him with amethyst eyes (purple, Jesus Christ, foxes don’t have purple eyes) before disappearing. The brush didn’t move.

And yet, Roman knew – knew, this instinctual, explainable force that lead his life, really, this knowing – that he must travel through. When he ran into Anxiety within the first two hours, well, he knew they must travel together.

Plus Anxiety had a small rock which, when he threw it at a large dyre-raccoon, turned the creature into solid rock. When he saw Roman he threw another rock at him, but when it hit his shoulder (yes, it did hit him – rocks turning animals into solid rock could be distracting) it merely sparkled in gold light and fell into his palm.

They decided to travel together. Strength in numbers, after all.

Anxiety didn’t talk much. Roman didn’t mind. Talking, at that moment, had felt exhausting.

“Words should be spared,” Anxiety had said at one point. Roman let the phrase tumble through his brain, tinkering with meanings and purposes. Anxiety had sounded rehearsed, the phrase repeated.

An old mentor? A sibling? Parents?

Roman forced himself to stop thinking about Anxiety. Anxiety was only a travelling partner, nothing more. Especially since Anxiety obviously wanted nothing to do with Roman. Especially since Roman needed to find–

Anxiety hadn’t deigned to tell him his name. Roman felt that relatively self-explanatory: I don’t trust you. We aren’t friends.

Which he shouldn’t, and they weren’t. Roman, daft, loud, exuberant Roman, should not be trusted. And Anxiety had met him that day, really, Roman couldn’t blame him.

He really needed to stop thinking about Anxiety.

Roman turned his mind to duller thoughts, an attempt at sleep. Rest made everything better.

Well, he hoped. And hope continued to remain one of his few solaces.

—

Virgil, used to being cold, felt incredibly, wonderfully warm.

He snuggled deeper into the soft blankets beneath his hands, exhaling softly to feel the warm air flutter against his fingers. His old room retained cold incredibly well, the hard floors and unforgiving walls far from his bed making him feel vulnerable and weak, unable to protect–

But, right now, warmth settled to his bones, relaxing his muscles and making his entire body pliable. Safe.

The thought sent warning bells, ringing between his ears, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to jerk to his feet or do anything else drastic and likely unneeded.

Still. His instincts had never failed him before, and safety usually meant something or someone – no, no, no, someone someone only one person had made him feel that way – just, awful. Safety gave a false sense of security and Virgil was tired of falling victim to its wiles.

Slowly, slowly, Virgil edged away from the heater to his right. Roman. Roman, the talkative, nice, prince-like (prince-like) man who’d decided they were to be traveling partners.

Virgil didn’t mind. He rather... no, he appreciated it. The Perilous Forest (who really named these things?) held many dangers beyond his imagination. Of course, he could always take off his gloves.

Virgil hated taking off his gloves.

When he was a reasonable distance from Roman’s sleeping figure, he sat up, and was struck with a mortifying realization.

The tent, despite his former thoughts, claimed quite a bit of space. Roman and Virgil had plenty of room for both of them to sleep comfortably and distanced from one another, as strangers should. Despite, well, despite the extra room, Virgil had gradually shifted closer to Roman – to Roman’s heat, of course.

Virgil paused. Why was Roman so warm? Virgil wasn’t commonly around other people, not enough to know the average heat one should exude, but Roman almost certainly ran higher than “most people”.

Virgil pushed down his personal space warning bells and hesitantly reached forward, brushing the backs of his fingers against Roman’s cheek and drawing away almost immediately. Eyes blown wide, Virgil glanced between his fingers and Roman’s cheek. Yes, Roman was most definitely burning up.

Did that mean Roman was sick? Did Virgil have to take care of him? Virgil had no idea how to care for a sick person, especially in the middle of the Perilous Forest, of all places. A small seed of resentment planted in Virgil’s head. Really, could Roman have picked a worse time to come down with some virus?

“Ah...” Roman let out a small noise, blinking his eyes open and staring at Virgil’s wide-eyed expression. “...uh.”

“You’re awake,” Virgil said dumbly, flexing his fingers subconsciously. Realizing that he was on his knees, kneeling towards Roman, he jumped back.

“I am,” Roman said, a smidgen of uncertainty edging its way into his voice.

How? He was on fire a moment ago...

“How are you alive?” Virgil demanded in his tactful way. “Your face is at melting temperature.”

“Melting temp–” Roman blanched and reached up to touch his face absentmindedly. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Don’t get sick in the middle of a forest,” Virgil snapped, knowing his irritation was irrational and he was likely ruining all future positive interactions with him. Yet he couldn’t stop the words from running out of his mouth. Roman couldn’t die on his hands! He could tell Roman was a good person, someone who might make a difference in the world, as opposed to him, who would probably die and sink into the dirt before he turned thirty, if he was being optimistic.

“I’m not sick,” Roman said, his sigh interlaced with relief, exasperation, and something else Virgil couldn’t identify (he prided himself on being able to read expressions and moods, came in handy when figuring out if one despised him or was simply putting on a front).

“There’s no other explanation,” Virgil said shortly, crossing his arms.

Roman stared at his hands wordlessly, moving his fingers as if trying for the first time. “I run hot.”

“That wasn’t just hot, don’t give me that shit,” Virgil said, words sharpened into points.

“Alright,” Roman said slowly. Holding his fist in front of him he said a simple, “don’t freak out,” (at which his anxiety instantly spiked, because one does not start anything ever with that phrase) before his fist lit on fire.

After an admittedly embarrassing squeak left his mouth and his body went into half-fetal-position-we’re-in-danger mode, Virgil realized the flame was glowing a soft orange as opposed to the changing reds and oranges of a campfire. “Oh what the hell.”

“Yeah,” Roman said eloquently, relaxing his hands and letting the orange flames dance around his fingers. “Orange is only one setting, but that’s why I’m so hot when sleeping. Of course, I’m hot all the time,” he said, voice cheeky enough that Virgil could tell Roman was no longer talking about temperature.

“One setting?” Virgil said. “How much... magic do you have?”

“More than the average person,” Roman deflected, extinguishing the flame swiftly. “But, I told you. Don’t go... yelling it to the winds, or anything.”

“You assume I care that much,” Virgil said, barely meaning the words. Perhaps he cared a little too much – after all, he related on a scarily similar level. Having high levels of magic in this world... that could be dangerous.

“You have more magic than normal,” Roman pointed out, harshly reminding Virgil how alarmingly perceptive he could be.

“You’re not wrong,” Virgil evaded, looking at the exit to the tent. “We should get ready. We’re losing daylight.”

“Okay,” Roman said easily. He pushed the blankets off his body and started preparing for the day, Virgil gradually following his movements. Virgil still wasn’t entirely sure how to... survive on his own. Used to being catered to, Virgil carefully copied Roman’s movements and noting them for when they split and he was... alone again.

“If we keep going east we’ll hit the edge of the forest by tomorrow, most likely,” Roman said.

Virgil made an affirming hum, fiddling with his pack and double checking if he had everything.

“But if we stop a little earlier tonight, I can reserve some energy for the fire and keep us a bit warmer than last night,” Roman said.

Virgil blinked at the casual reference to his magic. Normally people muted their magic, used it for small tasks, didn’t mention it in daily life. “Okay.” Roman had no such qualms, and it was... refreshing, in a way.

When they started out, little was spoken between the two. Virgil despised talking while walking, and no late night heart-to-heart would change that. Roman made a few benign comments and small talk throughout the day.

At around noon, the hair on the back of Virgil’s neck stood up. The wind picked up, only slightly, but noticeable enough that Virgil felt instantly on edge.

“You alright?” Roman asked, chewing on some dried meat from his pack. Virgil noted how at ease Roman appeared, how obviously Roman could not tell something was off.

“Yeah,” Virgil had said, lying through his teeth. Roman nodded without a second thought, and they continued, Virgil keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

Clouds covered the sky, and they trekked onward.

—

Roman sprinted, slipping and sliding on the leaf-covered ground. Shit, Anxiety, where – a tree seemed to materialize out of nowhere and he darted to the left to avoid it, tripping over his feet and slamming into the ground. He instantly jumped to his feet, the smallest sting pricking at his arm.

Tears burned in his eyes and Roman forced himself to keep going, keep running, keep –

The ground disappeared from underneath his feet and he screamed, tucking his arms against his head and seeing harsh, jagged rock, the bright stars, and rain-slick cliffs before crashing into the ground. He felt his body snapping, shock injecting into his system, and the world flashing bright white before cutting to black.

—

Virgil glanced at Roman, the sky darkening far quicker than it logically should. He could taste rain in the air, but Roman seemed to have no indication of stopping. When the first drop fell, Virgil paused mid-step, but Roman continued.

“Are we walking in the rain?” Virgil finally asked, trying to keep the exasperation from his voice (and likely failing).

“Of– oh,” Roman stopped then as if seeing Virgil for the first time. “Oh, yeah, we probably should, shouldn’t we?”

“Uh...” Virgil squinted at him in a half-hearted attempt to interpret his actions.

“In training,” Roman clarified. “We rarely stopped for anything. Sometimes I forget I’m not... there anymore.”

“Training for what?” Virgil asked.

“To be a knight,” Roman said, the phrase a strange mixture of dejected and pompous, as if he was so used to saying it with extreme dramatics and pride that he didn’t know how to say it naturally.

“Noble,” Virgil said, not knowing what else to say.

“I guess.” Roman pursed his lips. “Seems like it should be.”

Virgil would say how being a knight was supposedly the epitome of being noble, but he knew personally how un-noble the knights – real, full-fledged knights – could occasionally be.

Roman, Virgil decided, would be one of the best knights he’d ever met.

“You’ll continue your training when you return, then?” Virgil said carefully.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know,” Roman said, rubbing at his face in frustration. “I don’t think I’m cut out for it.”

“Shut up,” Virgil said. “You’d be a fine knight. I would know.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Roman said. He paused, then added, “How?”

A flash of fear jolted through Virgil’s body. “How what?”

“How would you know I’d make a good knight?” Roman clarified, despite Virgil knowing exactly what he was asking.

“I just do,” Virgil said vaguely.

“Mmkay,” Roman said, blatantly not believing him. “Tell me whenever, or never. I don’t mind.”

Virgil’s memory flashed to the night before, to Roman holding his fist in front of him and lighting it on fire, to “But, I told you. Don’t go yelling it to the winds, or anything.”

“I’m the prince,” Virgil blurted, slapping a hand over his mouth a split second later.

Roman stilled. “What?”

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” Virgil said, rushing through his sentences and stumbling over words. “Let’s just keep going or set up camp or something.”

“No, you just said–” Roman stopped in front of him and caught his forearms with his hands. “Anxiety–”

“That’s not even my name, you don’t know me,” Virgil spat, wrenching his arms away from Roman, away from the knight-in-training, away from the fire-wielding stranger he just spilled a close-kept secret with, someone who would send him back to the palace back to his old life back to being constrained by everyone and everything –

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Roman said softly, soothingly, holding his palms forwards and backing away, giving Virgil space to breathe. “I’m not going to tell anyone, I promise. I just... need confirmation. The prince?”

Virgil nodded, unable to speak for the moment. He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands against his upper arms, feeling the soft fabric of his gloves rub against his skin comfortingly.

“Alright. Okay. Wow. I, uh... Wow, I don’t really...” Roman stuttered more than said. “Should I... bow? Or kneel? Oh man, I slept right next to you, that’s probably breaking all sorts of laws–”

“Stop, oh god,” Virgil waved his hands in front of his face. “I ran away for a reason. Please do none of that.”

“Call you your highness–” Roman continued, a teasing edge to his voice.

“I swear I’ll arrest you if you do,” Virgil said gravely.

Blatantly ignoring the dark tone in Virgil’s voice, Roman laughed. “Alright, dark and stormy, whatever you say.”

A crack tore across the sky and the light sprinkles transformed to a downpour within seconds. Virgil found refuge under a tree without checking for Roman, who ended up following him anyway.

“Damn,” Roman said. He flicked some wet hair out of his face and peered through the drops. “That was fast.”

“Really,” Virgil said, hugging his arms to his body. “When I ran I didn’t realize how cold I’d be all the time.”

“Ah.” Roman’s figure lit up in soft orange light, small flames flickering above his skin. Virgil instinctively leaned closer to him, closer to the warmth suddenly radiating from Roman.

“The fire won’t burn you,” Roman promised, his arm hovering uncertainly above Virgil’s shoulders. “Orange never gets hot enough to wound.”

“How many colors do you have?” Virgil asked. Eyeing Roman’s arm and falling on his common philosophy of fuck it he leaned into Roman’s side, the man’s arm falling naturally onto Virgil’s shoulder and enveloping him in warmth.

“Orange is warmth, Yellow is mostly pure light,” Roman said, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb on Virgil’s shoulder. “Uh, green helps ward away sickness, I think. Light green, I mean. Dark green gives me more protection. Dark blue helps plants, which was weird to find out. I don’t have all the colors, yet, like red, purple, pink, other things.”

“Can you make normal fire?”

“Yeah, of course.” Roman flicked out the thumb not against Virgil’s shoulder and lit the tip of it, reddish-yellow flames flickering on the tip.

“That looks pretty red,” Virgil said.

“I mean, yeah, but I don’t think it’s my red fire.” Roman doused the flame and tucked his hand against his chest, the orange glow turning a little brighter. “The colors show up as time goes on. My first color was dark green.”

“Dark green,” Virgil repeated. “For protection?”

Roman’s form stiffened, telling Virgil more than his words ever would. “I guess. Didn’t have much – I mean, it was a totally random color, y’know? Never figured out why, I mean...”

“When I was younger,” Virgil said without thinking. A small part of him screamed at him to shut up shut up shut UP but another part couldn’t handle the orange flame starting to dull, and not because it would mean less warmth. “Objects started responding to me in ways that didn’t make sense.”

Roman’s arms squeezed his shoulders, prompting him to continue.

“It was little things at first. A snake toy would start moving, or a marble would always go to the right spot, or my blanket would always reappear near me. My parents thought it was little magic I’d find, there’s lots of magic pockets at the palace,” Virgil said quietly, swallowing down apprehension at sharing his life. A lightning bolt crashed across the sky, igniting it and splitting it in two for half of a second.

“I, uh, it ended up just being me,” Virgil said. He put his hands in front of him. “That’s why I wear gloves. Then I don’t affect things.”

“Those rocks you were throwing?” Roman said, realization dawning in his voice. “You touched them and they turned the animal into rock. But they didn’t do anything to me.”

Virgil shrugged. “It’s a fickle magic.”

“I think it’s fate,” Roman said.

Virgil stared at him with a deadpan expression, rolling his eyes when he saw the teasing grin Roman wore. “Of course.”

“How else would a dashing knight-in-training meet the brooding, rugged prince?” Roman said, dramatics oozing from his pores. “It’s a fairy-tale waiting to happen.”

“Make the knight in training female and the prince ridiculously handsome and you have the plots of at least a dozen books I can think of off the top of my head,” Virgil said.

Roman looked like he was fighting to say something, shoulders twitching, when he blurted out, “One of those is already true.”

Virgil backtracked, rerunning over his statement. “Oh, shit, are you a woman? Have I been misgendering you this whole time? Shit, Roman, I’m sorry–”

“No!” Roman said loudly. “I’m not a woman.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, sighing in relief. Realization hit him like a brick. “Oh.”

Roman thought he was handsome? Roman? If he were to quote himself, then “ridiculously handsome”, oh, oh.

Heat traveled to his face and Virgil said a quiet, “oh” that came out as more of a squeak than anything else.

(How could Roman believe that Virgil was handsome? Roman, with his beautiful face, Roman, with his strong stance, Roman, thought Virgil–)

A loud growl interrupted their mutually rapid thoughts and they stiffened simultaneously. The rain seemed to slow, the number of drops just as numerous yet falling at a slower rate.

“Oh no,” Virgil said softly. He knew that growl. He knew exactly what that growl meant.

“What? What is it?” Roman asked him, just as softly and staring into the slow drops of rain, trying to see.

“On the count of three, run,” Virgil muttered, slowly edging his way backwards.

“What? Anxiety, you’re not making any–”

“One.”

“I can’t just run away, that’s–”

“Two.”

“Anxiety–”

“Three!” Virgil grabbed Roman’s wrist and sprinted in the opposite direction of the growl, running, running, running because there was nothing else one could do when–

The wyrm howled and crashed through the trees, unholy screeches and the cracking of trunks filling Virgil’s every sense, his rain-slicked palm sliding against Roman’s wrist until suddenly he couldn’t feel it anymore, and Roman was gone, he wasn’t behind him anymore, and–

“ROMAN!” Virgil screamed, throat raw and panting and scared. “NO! ROMAN!”

The wyrm rapidly approached him and Virgil hoped, hoped to any god or being above that Roman’s remains weren’t mangled in the wyrm’s stomach. If the wyrm focused on Virgil, then it couldn’t focus on Roman, and Virgil felt his glove fall off and his fingers wrap around a stone before he could think.

Virgil threw the rock behind him and heard an explosion shake the trees followed by an ear-splitting screech.

He didn’t look, he didn’t stop, because he knew the moment hesitation snuck in he would be a goner. Rain pelted his face and arms, branches cutting streaks into his skin and leaves blocking his vision. The dull roar of the storm and the pitched shrieks of the wyrm pounded against his ears and Virgil sobbed, tripping on roots and twisting his ankle, he was sure, but he couldn’t stop –

Or, he could. Death by a wyrm sounded brutal but truthfully, in the grand scheme of ways to die, there were worse. Well, a wyrm sounded like a noble death regardless, right? Wyrms were large terrifying creatures, nobody would question if Virgil was too slow or too clumsy to outrun one.

He could die here.

Wasn’t that what he wanted?

An echo of the cacophonous sound rang through his head and the world was quiet for one clear moment. Limbs moving in slow motion, the rain glinting off of light, trees deep brown and green, long, ridged scales swirling with a gaping maw lined with teeth...

Virgil read the anger in its eyes, the almost defensive stance of its head, the blades of shining, clean silver, sharpened...

A clean, clear voice cut through the chaos.

“Stop!”

Virgil saw pale, weathered wood as the world rushed back into focus. Run, run, run, don’t get eaten–

A lone figure stood in front of a door and wow, that sucks was all Virgil could think before he ran headfirst into the wall, the world flashing to black.

[darius-stormcrow]

Back to the Blood War.

We've had a bit of downtime since the collapse of Citadel Cavitius.  I went around Sigil, looking for any sign of Shar or anyone else who survived Citadel Cavitius but either nobody else has turned up or nobody in Sigil's willing to talk about it. Probably doesn't help that this place is utterly massive and full of people who all seem to talk some weird back-alley perversion of common.  Seriously, if I get called a 'barmy berk' one more time, we're gonna find out what happens to someone if they open every door in 'the city of doors' with their face.  But I digress; with my attempt to sort out any personal matters foiled, it was time to turn to other matters. I half-expected everyone to part ways after our multiplanar misadventure, but it looks like we're sticking together for now.  We probably have our collective benefactor to thank for that- Spiral's got another job for us.  He's been shipping goods between planes, and some of those shipments have gone missing; since we survived a fight between demigods, we're on the short list of people he can trust to get this dealt with.

The objective this time is to head to some dump out in the abyss called 'Hopeless'.  Never actually been there, but with a name like that, there's a ninety-nine percent chance it's a dump. I'm not sure what kind of effects constantly going to the abyss is having on the others, I've been pretty okay so far but then I'm also a paragon of immaculate mental focus.  All that time I spent gambling, drinking, and engaging in other vices was just training. Okay?  You wouldn't get it because you're not used to how spiritual and mental training works.  At any rate, I think most of us are going to be fine- the majority of my companions haven't been too adversely affected by what we've gone through.  My main areas of concern are with Jack and Calami.  Though the latter has calmed down significantly since we've arrived somewhere that isn't just entirely undead.  Regardless of what happens with them, I'm sure I'll be fine.

Well, Hopeless was as much a dump as I expected it to be.  As soon as we got through the portal to the city, we wound up in a washed-out colorless wasteland.  Also we were advised to cover up any vivid colors on our own persons, as apparently the denizens of this plane seem to consider anything that isn't solely on the grayscale to be a sensory assault.  We headed down to meet with a Tiefling by the name of Milay, and she arranged for us to travel with a shipment of goods through the area wherein Spiral's shipments had disappeared.  This is where things take a turn.

We get out there with the goods, and almost as soon as we're out of view of the city, we're set upon by a pack of mercenaries.  After everything we've been through, a bunch of mercnaries aren't going to amount to much of a challenge, and they didn't.  The other hired swords whom Milay had sent along with us had their hands full, but we sorted things out rather deftly- deftly enough to earn a round of applause.  Which was what we got once the fighting was over.

Clap, clap, clap.  Right from inside the tree line. Then who comes walking out of there but Shar himself.  I don't know if he knew we were coming, or if he was just trying to intercept the shipment, but he was right there in front of me.  And what's more, he called me out specifically.  It was time to fight, man to man.

Shar was strong, he had every bit of training I'd ever had, only with more experience to top it off.  I'd like to tell you that I dug deep and overcame him by sheer force of will- but I didn't beat him.  It wasn't like the last time we'd fought, where it took everything I could muster to simply stay alive; this fight was close, but ultimately experience made the difference.  Then, surprisingly, he spared me.  Even gave me a potion to heal myself up with.  Said next time we fought, he wanted me to be at my best.  I don't get it, but I asked him why he was serving Iuz.  He just said “Iuz was a means to an end.” And left it at that.  Before Shar left, Noxus made a move to finish him off; but I had to stop him.  Noxus has already demonstrated his ability to settle issues with sharp objects, and while I'm sure it'd save me trouble down the line if he did so; I have to settle things with Shar personally.

As a parting gift, Shar directed us down a side path, mentioned we'd “Find something interesting” there.  After we got ourselves sorted and cleaned up the aftermath of the fight. (Mercenaries that attacked us wound up being gross bug demons, by the way), we headed down the path Shar had mentioned.  It was partially hidden, but there were signs of recent use- and before long we found ourselves at the mouth of a big cave.  What was inside the cave, you might ask?  The cargo that Spiral had stolen from him and an Ultroloth.  To my understanding, Ultroloths are supposed to be neutral in the Blood War, not taking a side with either the Baatezu or the Tenar'ri; but this Ultroloth didn't like Spiral supplying cursed weapons to the Tenar'ri.  He told us to go tell Spiral, as a warning.  I'm not exactly a fan of taking orders from Demons- but I was exhausted from fighting Shar, and the others didn't feel like trying their luck.  So we're going to head back and let the boss know what's going on.

I don't know how to feel about getting dragged deeper into meddling with the Blood War, and I'm not entirely sure I trust Spiral yet.  But since we're already on this this track, we may as well ride it to the end.

[themadlostgirl]

Not Dead Yet (Part 44)

*Thank you all so much for over 500 followers. Fair warning there is a lot of dialogue.*

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warnings: language

“How are you still alive?” Felix groaned when I walked back into camp later that night.

“A deal with the devil.” I sat down flashing Felix a broad grin. “Weren’t expecting me to get out of that one, were you?”

“You brought a fairy to the island. You really shouldn’t have been able to walk away scot free after that. What spell did you cast to make him spare you this time?” Felix didn’t seem particularly angered by my continued existence but rather tired.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s not like Peter to get irritated over any little thing.” I smirked. I figured Felix was fighting the urge to push me into the bonfire.

I suppose doing the exact opposite of what your leader wants and never suffering any consequences for it would wear on any of Peter’s loyal followers. There was only one real rule on the island and that was not to upset Peter in any way. You angered him or disrespected him then your head would surely be on a chopping block. Sure I’ve irritated him to the point where he probably would have killed me and I have been scared for my life when I was caught doing things I shouldn’t have but I always came out fine. In the many years I’ve lived here I have done a countless number of things that should have gotten me killed and this latest blunder was my crowning jewel. Anyone else would have been skewered on the spot. Me? I got laid.

I had thought about leaving to find Tigerlily but decided that I had tried my luck for the day. I could have very easily gotten her killed I doubt she would want to see me anyways. I’ll try in the morning after training.

During training the next day I paired off with Spink to practice my sword fighting. Usually the fight was over when the other was subdued but after an unfortunate accident involving an overly aggressive Nick and a dagger in a past Lost Boys eye it was changed to whoever drew first blood. Not as much fun or practical for real combatives but it did keep us from having to dig more graves.

After training I went off into the jungle to search for Tigerlily. I eventually found her hunkering in a cave on the other half of the island. “Hello,” I stepped into the cave, “Can I have a word?”

“You’re already here so…” she shrugged. I sat down. “What is it you wanted to discuss?”

“I had wanted to make sure that you were alright after yesterday. Peter told me you helped him and that he was letting you stay on the island but I wanted to make sure nothing else had happened that he wasn’t telling me.”

“I’m fine, as you can see. What all did he tell you?”

“Everything. He knows it’s not a good idea to keep secrets from me anymore.”

“Yours is a truly unorthodox relationship isn’t it? Such devotion to each other is something I have not seen in some time.”

“Devotion may be a strong word. I’m loyal to him and we’re friends but besides that I’m not sure I would go as far as to it’s anything more than that.”

“But you two are lovers?”

“It’s more of slating urges and bribery than it is about emotional connection. Once we’re done we part ways. Waking up in each others tents would give the Lost Boys the wrong idea.”

“So you believe this arrangement between the two of you is purely physical?”

“Well, yes. We’re friends and lovers but to imply that there is deeper emotions behind all of this is expecting way too much of Peter. At the end of the day he’s a self codfish and there’s no changing that. He only acts so generous because I’ve basically threatened him into being that way.”

“And what does a Lost Girl have to threaten the ruler of Neverland with?”

“My absence.”

“Your absence is enough to make him do as you wish? And you still claim that he only cares for himself?”

“I see how that looks--”

“It looks like he cares about you more than just as a friend of lover--”

“The situation is a lot more nuanced than that. You just got here you don’t know me and you don’t know who Peter is nowadays.”

“You’re right. He has changed a lot since I saw him last. But I stand by what I said.” she shifted to undo the braids in her hair and re-braid them, “If I may ask, how did you come to be here? Come to be by Peter’s side?”

“That is a long story spanning many years.” I sighed.

“I have time and nothing to do.” she tied off her first braid, “Care to tell me the tale?”

“Sure. But a lot of what I’m going to tell you cannot leave this cave.”

“Of course.” the grin on her face made me hesitate to tell her anything. “Compromising details you don’t want the rest of your group to know. I’m used to hearing such specifics.”

“As long as we understand one another.” I took in a deep breath and recounted my tale. How years ago I had been living in the Enchanted Forest and heard the pipes. How I was brought to Neverland and fought against sexist Lost Boys and cocky leaders to become a skilled fighter and manipulator. I told her about my damning curiosity that landed me in my fair share of tough spots. How I had twisted Peter’s arm to respect me and be honest with me. How we had grown from wanting to kill each other to this weird friendship we have now.

Tigerlily listened closely only interrupting to ask a question about a situation or person who is no longer alive. By the end she seemed to understand more why I had such an influence on Peter and how I could force an entire pirate ship to do as I wished with one threat.

“That is a lot to take in.” She drummed her fingers against her knee, “How long have you been here exactly?”

“I don’t even know anymore. I stopped counting a couple decades ago.” I leaned back against the cave wall. Retelling everything had brought up a lot of feelings I had forgotten about. I touched the spot on my neck where my pearl necklace used to lay. I hadn’t even thought of it until I was telling her about the initiation and how Peter had saved me from being drowned by mermaids. I wonder if I would ever see it again.

“Well for all the fights you engaged in it sounds like you to have hit an even pattern.”

“It doesn’t do well for anyone if we fight. It’s better for one of us to swallow our pride and admit our wrongdoings before the island breaks in two.” I hadn’t noticed before but the sky had gotten darker during my tale. Tigerlily noticed and started to gather some dry brush and wood to start a fire. I stood to help her having had a lot more practice starting fires. “What about you? How did you end up wingless and such?”

She kept her back turned to me as she placed the wood strategically so to have the fire catch quicker. She let out a short sigh and turned back to settle those unreadable eyes on me. “A life story for another.”

“It only seems fair.” I stooped close to the brush and got out my flint to start the fire. “Feeling like sharing?”

“Sit down. This may take a while.” the fire caught and started to lick up the sides of the wood as it grew. “Where to start?”

“How about when Peter was cursed.” I suggested.

“Alright, then.” she picked at a stick drawing swirls in the dirt at her feet. “After Blue had him condemned to the island for his vulgar actions we went back to our world. I remember being unable to sleep the entire night as I thought of my godson rotting away on some island all alone. Blue tried to assure me that he would live to see many years in his solace maybe one day if he truly learns from his mistakes the curse may be lifted. But over time he continued to do bad things and with each mistake the consequences grew.”

“Grew how?”

“He was supposed to live for as long as he could unable to leave the island. Once he learned magic to separate his shadow from his body the spell binding him to the island transformed into a curse. We felt the presence of dark magic and returned to the island to find the hourglass counting down his life. We told him he had maybe a thousand years before the sand ran out and warned him not to do anything more that would alter it.”

“And we see how well that worked out.” I muttered.

“Yes. A while ago though I’ve lost my wings I could still sense the island and the curse. I could tell it had changed once more and started looking for a way to tell him. To come here to Neverland and help him. After all the grief he has given me I still feel inclined to help him. He was my godson and though he has become this demon spawn a part of me still wants to believe there is something worth redeeming in him.”

“If Peter can be redeemed it would take a lot longer than a thousand years to accomplish that.”

“I’m starting to realize as much.” Tigerlily scowled, “Still, if there was a chance would you not help him?”

“I would.” That much I knew to be true. “But how did you lose your wings?”

“That is another story altogether.” she glanced behind her as if she was expecting to see them there again. “After I had lost Pan as my godson I was ushered to find a new one to care for. I couldn’t bring myself to care about any of them though and turned to the Black Fairy.”

“I’ve only heard stories about the Black Fairy. She is a force to be reckoned with. Even Peter doesn’t speak of her and he scoffs at things such as wraiths and the Dark One. But you...you worked with her?” I asked disbelieving.

Tigerlily nodded solemnly. “I knew that her magic was dangerous and that affiliating myself with her would put me in the bad graces of the other fairies but I didn’t care. I kept thinking that if I could stick by her side I could learn some way to break the curse on Pan. She was quite eager to help me too. In the end being her ally became too dangerous and I couldn’t turn a blind eye to what she was doing to her children anymore. I went back to Blue and the other fairies for help to stop her. They gave me the half of the ancient wand I used to slow the curse and banished the Black Fairy to a land where she couldn’t harm anyone else.”

She withdrew a piece of driftwood from her bag and held it as if it was a precious jewel. The ancient wand. The one that saved Peter.

“After that I renounced my wings. They had me keep the half of the wand believing it would be safer away from the dominion of the fairies in case the Black Fairy ever returned. That was part of the reason I was so keen to get to another realm. Word leaked to some dark forces that I carried the wand and I spent years running from them across the Enchanted Forest. It was when I met you that I realized that Neverland was my best hope to avoid the wand falling into the wrong hands and to reunite with my godson.”

“Wow.” I let the story sink in, “That is quite the story.”

“Yes. I knew coming here that Pan would be rather cross about my appearance seeing as how we parted on bad terms but it was a chance I had to take. I needed protection and I needed closure.” she clutched the wand half tighter, “You brought me both. For that I thank you and am in your debt.”

“You’re already paying that debt or do you forget my conditions for bringing you here?”

“I think I understand more why you wanted another female presence on this island. Brothers are all well and good for a family but it can be isolating being the only one of your kind, can’t it?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” It was getting late and if I didn’t return to camp soon Peter may come looking for me. “I’m glad you’re here, Tigerlily. Not just for what you did for Peter but for listening to my dramatics. I haven’t been so blatantly honest with someone outside of Peter in years.”

“Glad I could be of help. If you ever need a day away from the testosterone circus you know where I am.”

“That I do.” I started to leave the cave, “One more thing, this goes without saying but if you breathe a word of what I have told you here today or betray my trust you will wish you had been banished with the Black Fairy. Understood?”

She didn’t seem intimidated by the threat if the smirk on her face was anything to go by. “Understood. I would expect nothing less of a Lost Girl.”

“Good. Have a nice night.” I left the cave and started the trek back to camp.

“Hey, where have you been?” Ben asked when I got back to camp. “You just disappeared after training we thought you had bailed the island with Pan again.”

“I was talking with Tigerlily. Peter left?”

“Still can’t believe you got away with bringing a fairy to the island.”

“Ex-fairy. Where’d Peter go?”

Ben shrugged. “Don’t know. He just up and left earlier this evening. Oh by the way that new kid you brought the other day was looking for you.”

“Isaac? What’s he want?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you go ask him? He’s right over there.” Ben pointed across the camp where I spotted Isaac’s pale hair beaming like moonlight. “Hard to miss him, not very useful for sneak tactics when he’s such a bright contrast to the jungle.”

“I think he has promise. See ya, Ben.” I walked over to Isaac and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and his pale face turned bright pink. “Ben said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Y-Yeah,” he swallowed thickly. The boys with him snickered at his stuttering. I shot them a cold glare and they slinked off without a word. I motioned for him to sit and asked him what he had needed from me. “Well, I was just curious about something really.”

“What’s that?”

“I um…” he kept from looking me in the eye, “I noticed that you’re the only girl on this island, right?”

“That is correct. Well outside of the mermaids and now Tigerlily’s here but I’m the only Lost Girl if that’s what you’re wondering. I know it can confuse new boys.”

“It is a tad strange. But you are really strong and confident and when I met you I thought you were also very kind and fun.”

“Awe, you flatter me.”

“I suppose I was just wondering why it is that you aren’t the ruler of this realm. All the boys seem to like and respect you. Even Pan holds you high regard from what Devin’s told me. How are you just a regular Lost Girl like we’re Lost Boys?”

Oh. This was the first time anyone had ever expected me to be the leader. I know that Rufio had held me in high esteem but what Isaac was talking about seemed different. From how seriously he talked it sounded like he truly believed I should be the leader of Neverland and the Lost Boys. It was flattering in a way but also dangerous. The last time traitorous thoughts like that came about on the island it exploded into a civil war. I was not going to settle another one of those.

“Peter is the leader of this realm because he is the most powerful. As Lost Ones we need to respect him. We are a family and he is the one that brought us together and lets us live here in this paradise. The other Lost Boys respect me because they are my brothers and I respect them. As for Peter, we didn’t always get along. We actually actively tried to kill each other many years ago. I may be important to him now in some regards but at the end of the day I am a Lost One same as you and same as all the others. Nothing strange about it. Like I could handle controlling all you idiots to begin with. I can be scary but without any magic like Peter I doubt my reign would last.”

“You really believe all that?”

“Honestly? Yes. I’ve grown to respect him in the way he’s used to. I can’t very well let him know that though so don’t mention any of this to him, okay?”

“Sure.” he was blushing even deeper now. “I know you want me to see Pan as the leader but is it okay if I look up to you instead? I won’t call you leader or treat him any less than the others but I would much prefer to come to you instead of him. Is that okay?”

“Sure, I guess. As long as you still respect Peter I don’t see the problem with it. Going against him will surely get you killed, just remember that. We may be a family but with Peter it’s a special case. He’s not exactly a brother but not a king ruling over his land either.” I know I regard Peter as a friend and a lover but what was he to the other boys besides their leader? Surely there had to be more than just that.

“So he’s more like a god?” Isaac piped up.

“Now don’t let him hear that. He does not need reason to get an even bigger head.” Just the thought of Peter comparing himself to a god brought on a migraine. He’s already so pompous and smug I didn’t want to add any fuel to the already out of control inferno that was his ego.

“I just thought it made sense. He brought us here, he controls the island, and he can choose whether we live or not? Isn’t that kinda god like?”

“A vengeful god maybe.” I muttered, “You really don’t need to worry about him. He’ll give orders and play games with us from time to time but other than that he keeps to himself. The more I think about it, I barely see him talk to anybody on the island outside of Felix and I.”

“See, you are more than just a regular Lost Girl.” Isaac smiled brightly.

A warm wave of affection thrummed through my chest. I hadn’t felt something so pure in a long time. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a small squeeze. “I like you, Isaac. I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun together.”

~~~

Isaac spent the night sitting on the beach overlooking the dark water ripple the reflection of the moon in it’s waves. When it was quiet this place could be so peaceful. It was so open and warm.

Excellent work my child. The voice slithered around his mind like the burning cold of frostbite.

There only a matter of days and you’re already in Pan’s second in command’s good graces. I’m almost impressed. Then again she can be so trusting.

“She’s kind.” he whispered to the air.

She’s a murderer. A ruthless and unyielding pawn of mayhem molded and forged by Pan himself. You haven’t forgotten what he’s done already, have you? What he’s taken from you?

“Never.”

Then keep in mind what it is you are there for. Earn their trust. Break them. Return him to me and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams my son.

“Yes mother.”

Good boy. Now get some rest. I will tell you when we move next. Sweet dreams.

(First) (Previous) (Next)

[shipaholic]

Omens Universe, Chapter 4 Part 2

Oof, I just finished this in time for my Sunday deadline. Er! Probably a bit more first-drafty than usual. Welcome to my extra-unfiltered brain-drippings, I guess?

Just a ton of weird body horror in this one. Why did I turn Crowley into a ball of black ectoplasm? Who knows, man.

btw the horse is a girl now. I’ve edited the last part to reflect this.

Onwards! On the quest for Hellfire to stick poor Crowley’s gem back together.

Link to next part at the end.

(last part)

(chrono)

Chapter 4, cont.

The route was ordinary, until it wasn’t.

On a damp country road indistinguishable from the mile of damp country road they’d already passed, Aziraphale nudged the horse towards a point where reality was slightly thinner than it should have been.

It was like a smoke hood snuffing out a candle. The wan sun vanished as though it had never existed. The soggy fields disappeared behind a curtain of fog.

Crowley bubbled to himself. He was slumped on the horse’s neck in a heap of misshapen armour. The horse, using horse logic, reacted to this by speeding up to get away from him, so they were now bouncing down the path at a nervous trot, jingling like a cutlery drawer.

Aziraphale leaned forward. “How are you holding up?”

“Ggggggggn.”

Crowley gave a long hiss, like steam escaping. Black tar oozed down the back of his neck. Patches of what looked like scales had broken out all over his face, like a teenage skin complaint. His right cheek was still swollen from the horse’s kick, and his broken gem was dull under the swirling fog. His eyes were unfocused. For a time, they had grown closer to passably human; now they were as snakelike as they ever had been.

Aziraphale contemplated him, his poison-yellow eyes and the creeping scales that covered his face. The thought occurred to him that demons had forms that were. Well. On the bestial side. Covered in bats or flies. Sometimes mould, if they couldn’t manage anything better. Crowley was the only one he knew of who looked, until now, mostly human. Mostly.

He thought about Crowley, straining with the effort of staying in one piece. Perhaps he had no energy to spare towards the little maintenance miracles he normally did without thinking about it. Like ensuring his hair was always perfect. Or that his clothes always hung just so. Or…

Or holding back some of the more obvious evidence of his nature. Aziraphale considered that what he was seeing now - the scales, the eyes - was what Crowley was meant to look like. How he looked in Hell, after the fall.

He said he disliked shape-shifting. But he still did it.

Aziraphale let this line of thought play out. Then he folded it away, for good. If Crowley wanted to look more human, that was nobody’s business.

The horse was far less generous. Her eyes rolled in a way that suggested everyone should brace themselves for an abrupt relocation. Aziraphale suspected the poor thing might have reached her limit, no matter how much serenity he projected at her.

A hiss came from within Crowley’s armour.

“Ssss… zsss… Aziraphale.”

He had to force the words out. Aziraphale leaned closer to catch them.

“You ssshould. Discorporate me.”

Aziraphale felt a cold swoop in his stomach.

“Don’t say that. Whatever for?”

“Horse. ‘Sss about to bolt.”

Aziraphale gripped the horse’s sides with his legs as they all almost jolted out of the saddle.

“Not at all,” he lied. “She’ll quiet down, eventually. She’s used to riding into danger for God and glory.”

“Don’t kid yourssself. If I’m in my gem, the damn thing ssstops freaking out. Jussst do it.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Stop it, Crowley. It’s not going to happen. What if you can’t reform?”

Crowley made a noise that could have been a sigh.

“Either the Hellfire heals me or it doesn’t.”

Aziraphale thought about it. Drawing his sword and… dispatching Crowley, for the first time since Eden. The first time ever on purpose.

He had suggested it earlier. But that was before Crowley lost form, and speech. Back when he thought they could solve this problem by popping Crowley’s gem in the post.

If this was the last -

If this was the last time they -

He couldn’t do it.

No, he refused to do it. He’d find another way. If Crowley wanted to argue, too bad.

“Angel, did you -”

“I heard you,” Aziraphale snapped. “The answer’s no. And I’m steering, so you’ll have to like it or lump it.”

Crowley undulated sulkily. “Gnnnggg.”

“Same to you. Now. Are we there yet?”

Crowley peered off into the fog. He took a deep sniff. Tendrils of mist curled into his nostrils.

He raised a dripping, gelatinous arm and shakily pointed left.

Aziraphale nudged the horse. They jingled on.

Aziraphale could swear the ground was flat, but it felt like they were somehow sloping down, down into the murk. Fog pressed in like shadows, dissolving the world. He could only guess the swooping sense of vertigo he felt was not in his imagination.

Then, from up ahead, came a deep, red glow. A sinister, hateful glow. A glow that wanted to envelop everything before it, then snuff it out.

The fog billowed as though stirred by wind. It rose, pulled back like a curtain, and revealed with a flourish the sweeping landscape before them.

A colourless sweep of grass led to the shore of a lake. The lake was small, but the waters were endlessly black. None of the fog, swirling at head-height, trickled down to brush the surface. The air above the water was dead. Aziraphale suspected if he tried to breathe it, he would find himself unable to.

In the centre of the lake was a tiny island, and on the island was a cave with a glowing red mouth. It was as red as Hell in a storybook.

On the shore sat a rickety wooden boat. It was big enough for two, if one was feeling generous. Someone had tossed an oar onto the seat.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. All the scene was missing was a few skulls and a flock of bats to really set the mood. Call it snobbery - and Lord knew Heaven wasn’t any better, what with the robes and the head-pounding light and the choirs of angels that knew no dynamic markings beyond fortissimo - but he found this kind of thing embarrassing.

He dismounted and helped Crowley down after him. The horse perked up as soon as she was rid of them. Aziraphale gave her an absent-minded stroke, and put the route back to the castle in her head. She gave the snake a dirty parting look, and trotted away with a flick of her tail.

There was nothing to do but get on with it. Aziraphale guided Crowley to the boat. Crowley walked like an empty suit of armour, its inhabitant long-deceased, now puppeted by something that didn’t quite get how people were supposed to move. From time to time, he flickered, and his entire body turned off. It happened too quickly each time for Aziraphale to feel the sting of panic until Crowley had already reappeared. A quiet roar of static emanated from him, intermittently, like a faulty connection.

They reached the boat. Aziraphale poured Crowley into the bottom, like black tar. He glooped like a cauldron and spilled between the pieces of his armour. He looked like a quagmire with the drowned remains of a knight floating in it.

Aziraphale settled across from him, dubiously, onto the half-rotted seat. He picked up the oar and pushed off.

The boat glided out in total silence onto the lake. There was no sensation that they were floating upon anything. They drifted, perfectly level, as if on casters. Aziraphale had no intention of putting his hand in the water to check what was there. Maybe they were sailing across sheer void, and if he looked down, the spell would break and they would plummet forever into empty darkness.

It might be dangerous to use a miracle to get to the island faster. This place was steeped in demonic essence. It would be like putting opposing magnetic fields together. Or possibly it would just cause an explosion.

He rowed. His oar passed through whatever was beneath them with no resistance. The boat glided forward at an even pace.

The island loomed. Crowley was a lumpy puddle at the bottom of the boat. More of him spilled over the top of his armour, submerging it like an oil slick. The snake’s smooth dark head swam on the surface, the only part of him that kept its form.

Then, like a sauce thickening, he suddenly expanded, bursting the bounds of his armour. Aziraphale jerked backwards, pulling his feet up onto the seat. There was suddenly twice as much of Crowley as before. Appendages that could be presumed to be arms and legs erupted from him like wet, black roots. He had outgrown the boat before Aziraphale could react. Crowley tried to pull in his spiralling limbs, and accidentally punched a hole in the side.

Black water rushed in. It was nothing like water at all.

A forsaken feeling washed over Aziraphale. It was as though his essence, the part of him that rang in tune to Heaven, had gone cold. The water moaned, and his heart wrenched out of his chest.

Crowley hissed like a kettle and scrambled away as though the water was scalding hot. His limbs gored more holes as he went, and the boat began to list. The terrible cold rose from the bottom and crept through Aziraphale’s body, numbing and burning as it went. He gripped the oar with frozen hands and rowed faster. The island, which had seemed in reach minutes ago, was now a distant speck. They weren’t going to make it. They were going to break apart and fall away into the endless dark.

Clammy hands brushed Aziraphale’s ankles. He gave one of them a smack with the oar. When he looked back up, the island was right there, spilling its angry red glow from the cave onto the grey sand of the shore.

The boat broke in half as they reached it. Aziraphale didn’t look down. He grabbed Crowley and leapt off. For an instant, he was treading water that wasn’t water. The cold of it stopped his brain and heart. Then his feet were churning up wet sand, and he staggered up a pale, dirty beach, the last tendrils of the waves sighing as they unstuck and let him go.

Aziraphale kept moving, although he couldn’t feel his body. He could only feel Crowley’s hand, clutched in his, oozing and damp and not hand-shaped at all, but warm, the only warm thing in the world.

When they were a safe distance from the water, he bent over, put his hands on his knees and gasped for a minute. Crowley sunk into a puddle beside him. It was hard to read his body language, but Aziraphale guessed he was also collecting himself.

They only took a few moments. Crowley’s hand wasn’t a hand any more, and they needed to find what they came here for quickly.

Aziraphale turned and faced the cave. The mouth of it glowed like an oven. He felt the hellish heat radiating out, waiting for him to step into its radius.

He mustered a smile for Crowley. “At least we’ll dry out.”

Crowley made a motion that Aziraphale interpreted as a grim nod.

There was nothing more to say. Aziraphale walked, and Crowley oozed, towards the cave. They stepped into the circle of searing light. It was hot, but it didn’t burn. It was more like the close, miserable heat of a sweaty little room crammed with people who know they can never leave. They went further, past the threshold, all the way inside.

The cave swallowed them up. They kept walking.

---

(next part)

[rainbowwritesthings]

Chore’s Pt. 1

The gang take a break to do some much needed chores, mostly a doctor's appointment.

AO3---http://archiveofourown.org/works/12560676/chapters/28700900

Noctis laid in bed and thought about what had happened earlier that day, they had arrived in Lestallum, he went on a weird date thing with Iris, he kept getting these mind numbing headache, and they now had a place where a sword might be. 

He heard the shower shut off and after a few moments Prompto exited the bathroom ready for bed, after some hesitation he crawled into bed next to Noctis. Noctis smiled, it was nice not having to hide it anymore, even if Ignis and Gladio already knew before hand. 

As well as Iris apparently who had already given the pair a large hug and congratulations, a part of Noctis wondered if she knew about the child before he did. On that note when did everyone learn about the pregnancy he wondered and made a note to ask tomorrow. 

He was slowly beginning to drift off when Ignis’s voice stopped him, “now would be a good time to discuss our plans for tomorrow.” Prompto shifted so he was sitting up, “we’re going to go find the magic sword, right?” Noctis nodded before he remembered the hospital that Iris had been very clear to point out to him as well as telling him that they had state of the art machines, now that he thought of it more she also had taken him to a booth in marketplace that specializes in maternity wear. 

His mind drifted to how long it was no taking Prompto to get dressed in the morning, he knew that Prompto would object but it needed to happen. “We should check out the hospital tomorrow, maybe the marketplace. We don’t know when we’ll have another chance like this.” 

Once the words were out Gladio gave him a small nod of approval and Ignis had the barest hint of a smile, “I believe that is a wise plan.” Prompto on the other hand was giving Noctis a look of confusion and concern, “are your headaches getting worse?” 

The marketplace made sense, it was smart to stock up before going to a place they knew would be swarming with monsters, but the hospital bit was concerning. Noctis shook his head, “not for me, for you. We need to make sure that all this running around isn’t going to hurt anyone.” 

As per expected Prompto tried to fight, “we really don’t need to, I feel fine, everything is alright. Besides I had a checkup less than a month ago, no one needs that many.” Gladio scoffed, “they do when their pregnant and shooting up Daemons.” Prompto opened his mouth to argue but Ignis’s voice cut in and his tone left no room to argue. 

“The fights will only become more strenuous from here, if there is something wrong we should know now and do what we can to eliminate any future complications.” Prompto bit his lip before sighing and silently relenting, he laid back down and Noctis felt a brief flash of guilt at everyone backing the blond into a corner, but this was important. 

“Alright, so we have our plan for tomorrow. Night guys.” A chorus of goodnights followed and after the lights were turned off Noctis gathered the omega in his arms. He had expected some resistance but was surprised when Prompto scooted back to be more firmly pressed against him, he couldn’t say anything without the others hearing so instead he kissed the blonde's shoulder and hoped his feelings came across. 

When morning came he was awoken by a rough Gladio, “rise and shine princess.” After a groan and a small push he finally opened his eyes, looking around he quickly noted the absence of a certain blonde. “Where’s Prompto?” Ignis looked up from his paper for a brief moment before continuing reading, “he mentioned something about nerves and went for a jog.” 

His expression was neutral but his tone conveyed he was not pleased at the action, and neither was Noctis. Nonetheless the alpha got dressed and waited for the blonde to come back, he didn’t have to wait long as an out of breath Prompto entered the room a few minutes later. 

“You ok?” Noctis was already walking over to him, though he wasn’t sure what he could do to help. Prompto nodded and straightened up, “yeah, just hotter than I was expecting.” Ignis gave him a careful look before sipping his coffee, “make sure to drink plenty of water.” 

Prompto gave him a small nod and after downing a glass grabbed his clothes and promised to be out in a jiffy. While waiting Noctis tried to play a game to pass the time but he felt oddly nervous, why though he couldn’t tell.

Gladio picked up on it and gave him a rough pat on the back, “you really that scared to see your own kid?” Noctis’s heart picked up at the comment and he wave the arm away, “don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ignis watched the pair and after another sip spoke up, “I would imagine there will be an ultrasound at some point.” 

Noctis froze at the words, he had never seen an ultrasound first hand, only in movies and he found himself unsure at what to expect. His question was cut short by Prompto opening the door and if the way he was biting hi lip was anything to go by, he was just as worried. 

Despite this he flashed Noctis a smile, albeit strained, and tried to appear casual. “You ready?” Noctis forced himself to take a breath, “as I’ll ever be.” That was apparently the wrong thing to say and he watched as Prompto shifted in discomfort, “don’t get to excited, but seriously you don’t have to come. I went through one of these before, I’ll just give you guys the details later.”

Noctis mentally slapped himself and could feel Ignis and Gladios staring at him, rubbing the back of his head he let out a breath. “I want to go, I mean if you're ok with it.” This seemed to put Prompto at ease and he gave the other a smile, “then let's do it.” 

Bidding goodbye to their companions the pair walked down the streets side by side, however when Noctis finally caved and grabbed the blond’s hand in his own Prompto nearly jumped. Noctis rose an eyebrow at the action, “do you not like holding hands?” 

Prompto stared at him before looking at the people milling about, “it’s not that, but dude everyone can see us.” Noctis lazily looked around, no one really seemed to concerned with the pair. “We’re not doing anything wrong, and I want to hold your hand.” Prompto huffed in frustration over how the other man didn’t see the big issue, “you’re the prince, if someone saw us...” 

Noctis finally understood the problem and gave the other a small smile, “if someone saw us they would be confused about how a dead guy was wandering around. Prompto, I love you, you’re pregnant with my child. I think it’s ok if we hold hands in public.” 

Prompto bit his lips before giving out a small chuckle, “guess you have a point there.” The rest of the walk was uneventful and so wass checking in, the wait however was excruciating. Neither could seem to find it in themselves to pull out their phones and Prompto was left bouncing his leg and twiddling his thumbs, Noctis on the other hands was reading through a pamphlet and silently praying that the six would spare Prompto and his child any of these terrible things. 

When they were finally called the doctor, a kind female beta, sat them down with a smile, “so what brings you two in today?” Prompto looked at Noctis and the alpha responded by joining their hands together and giving him a reassuring squeeze. “I, um, well we, we want to make sure everything is alright.” 

The woman gave the pair a small smile, “understood, we’ll start off with a urine test. Then we can move on to a blood test, I’ll check your blood pressure and weight, then the ultrasound. Sound good to you?” Prompto gave a sharp nod and went off to the restroom leaving Noctis alone with the doctor, “ now are there any comments or concerns you have? I’ll ask Prompto about his when he returns.” 

Noctis immediately thought of all the terrible sounding complications and after a moment found his voice, “what can I do? To help him, to help the baby?” The woman gave him a warm smile, “well for starters; minimize stress, this is something often overlooked by mates but it’s one of the most important things you can do. Help him out when you can, give him massages, let him vent to you, little things can go a long way to help. That doesn't mean baby him however, that’ll only stress him out more.” 

At seeing the look Noctis was giving her she nodded, “it sounds easy, but can be very difficult to find a good medium. I can tell you both more in depth once the tests are complete what to do but that would be a good start.” Prompto came in a moment later and more tests were done, however when it came to checking his weight Noctis didn’t miss the small frown the doctor had at the number. 

After urging the blond to lay down and lift his shirt Prompto hesitated and turned pink, Noctis knew he was self conscious about his stomach and grabbed his hand again. After a few more moments Prompto finally raised his shirt and stared at the wall. 

The woman said nothing but pursed her lips at how much his pants were digging into his skin, and after gently prompting him the omega unbuttoned them. Gentle hands felt around his stomach and soon enough she was pulling away, “thank you, now I’m going to put some gel on your stomach so we can get a good picture. Be warned though, it’s cold.” 

Despite her warning Prompto yelped as she lathered it on and Noctis felt his breath catch when he saw her hooking up a machine. Prompto squeezed his hand and Noctis leaned in closer to him as she ran a wand over his stomach. 

For a long moment there was silence until finally a fast heartbeat filled the room, Noctis let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and Prompto let out a laugh of relief. At a small ah-ha the pair turned their attention to the small screen, and after the doctor pointed it out Noctis stared at the grainy image of their child. 

He glanced back at Prompto’s stomach before looking to the screen and felt his breath catch, that was their child. Clearing his throat a few times he finally spoke, “the heartbeat, is everything alright?” The woman nodded, “yes, it’s meant to be fast, in fact your child has a very strong heartbeat.”

Prompto sniffled, “hear that, our kid is already a badass.” Noctis felt his throat grow tight, “well yeah, look at the parents.” After asking if the pair would like a picture and receiving a resounding yes, the pair were handed a picture of their child and after tucking it away somewhere safe they turned the attention back to the doctor.

After she was finished looking through the test results she set them down, “so I need to start off saying that the baby appears to be in excellent health, however.” Noctis immediately became on edge, “Prompto you’re a tad bit underweight, it’s nothing serious so far but it’s better to get a handle on it now. You also have an iron deficiency, now both of these things can be taken care of with a healthy diet as well as some prenatal vitamins. I also must express concern about your clothing, it’s a bit tight and could lead to problems if you continue to force your body to fit them. Other than that everything looks fine, you two are free to go.” 

The pair walked numbly out of the hospital before Noctis spoke up, “we should go back to the inn and tell the guys how it went. Then we go to the marketplace.” Prompto gave him a nod, though it was clear that he was stressing out about what the doctor said. 

Noctis brought the blond closer and molded their lips together, one hand was gently placed on the blonde's cheek while the other drifted down to his stomach. This was the first time that Noctis had done so in a long time and he felt his breath catch at the small swell his hand was greeted with.

 “We can do this, Prom, everything will be ok.” Prompto gave the man a small smile before placing a hand over Noctis’s, “yeah, it’ll be fine. Now let’s go show everyone our kids first picture.”