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curly-bangtan · 5 years ago

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A Drop of Heaven I: Sir(e) (M)

[Series Masterlist]

Pairing: ot7 x reader // this chapter: Namjoon x reader, some Jimin x reader

Series summary: Seven vampires have secretly been roaming the darks of your world for millennia. Each brother selects a Feed who becomes supernaturally bound to him, whose blood will be fed on until their inevitable mortal death. They have spent their eternity hunting for the exorbitant rarity that is angel blood - the most heavenly of food for vampires that fuel them with desire, lust and satiety. So what happens when they all find you, the first angel-blooded being they’ve encountered in two centuries?

Genre: vampire au, poly au, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (e2l)

Warnings in this chapter: non-consensual blood drinking, mentions of death and abuse, obv blood and gore, very light smut, dry humping, ass grinding, dom!Namjoon is an ass man wbk, almost everyone being a prick, oc and Namjoon hating each other but then get confused

Word count: 9.6k

!Disclaimer!: As I’ve said before, I am not glorifying any type of objectification or abuse, and this has nothing to do with gender at all. This is meant to depict a fictional dynamic between vampire and Feed which obviously does not apply to a non-supernatural context in which case this would be considered abuse and toxic. I really hope this doesn’t offend/trigger anyone!! If you get confused, feel free to ask questions.

[prelude, i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii, epilogue]

❦

Death feels…

Alive.

The hum of classical music and hushed low voices permeate your ears as your senses gradually seep back to you. Faint darkness cloaks your vision. Your chest rises and falls in a soft slow rhythm. You’re breathing. Your heart is beating. You feel alleviated from the pain you’re so accustomed to. You feel revitalised.

You feel alive.

So this is the so-called Afterlife philosophers spend decades pondering and debating. How peculiar.

You try to lift your finger and find it moving at your will, the action feeling oddly smooth and effortless. Fabric brushes your skin, and in fact, a silk material envelops your body. Are you on a bed?

When your eyelids begin to flutter in attempt to open, the voices around you silence eerily in unison. You see a red-gold light at first, illuminating the dark room you find yourself in, the ceiling of which void-black. In your periphery, dim candles are flickering on your two sides, the warm glow of which spilling onto the lavish satin bed you lay atop, its size worthy for kings to sleep in.

Then something violently strong snaps within you, a string, a cord, of sorts. The sensation is not physical, it’s beyond that; it feels as though something has tied itself around your soul and is tugging at you towards it. This intensity is overwhelming, eating at your mind and core, urging you to follow this nexus that tightens its hold around you.

You sit up, gasping.

And face seven men.

Each the epitome of beauty in their own right. Each an ethereal glaze washing over them. Each staring at you with the most curious glint in their eyes.

No, not curious. Hungry.

“I…” Your brain is scattered from its sense. Where are you? Who are they? Are you dead or alive or both? “What…?” Coherent thoughts fail to form in your head and at your lips, the question dangles in the air like a weak sigh.

Processing as much as you can, you take a moment to examine the seven standing around the bed in front of you.

The one directly in front of you regards you with crossed arms, dressed in a suit of all black, mousy grey-brown hair swept neatly. When you meet his eyes, a chill shoots down your back for his irises have the faintest crimson glow to them. But what is more terrifying is not the strange hue of his eyes, but the way they are pinned at you as if he could stare into your soul and read your every single secret. There is an air of power and superiority that exudes from his tall stance. You’re beginning to think that this definitely isn’t heaven and he definitely isn’t an angel.

On his left is a pink-haired man, delicate to look at, soft features painting his handsome face. His eyes are kind but unreadable, juxtaposing the harshness of the one beside him. His shoulders are board, though he possesses no intimidation towards you. Something about him is so aesthetically soothing, magical to look at.

On the other side of the stranger in the middle slouches a smaller man, a bored expression worn on his face with his cheek bitten inside his mouth. His spiky head of hair so dark you can almost hear it whisper lullabies of the devil. When he looks at you, you feel him emanate a dangerous fury; it’s an ancient deep-rooted type of evil. Now, a flood of fear finally dawns on you.

Next to him, a dimpled grin greets you. Immediately you sense a rush of security at his warm expression, though you can’t help but think it’s a deceiving facade to lull you into his snare. There is a darkness lurking behind his crescent eyes that you don’t completely trust. He ruffles his hand through his wine red tufts, smile not once faltering in the most uncanny manner.

Standing opposite the bed from him is a devilishly handsome blonde boy, though you’re not sure if ‘boy’ is quite the right word when his lips quirk up at you mysteriously. He’s dressed luxuriously, like he’s some foreign prince, standing tall and proud yet undecipherable. An unknown force draws you to him, his beauty beckoning you like a lasso. When he brushes his thumb under his lip, you shudder.

Another boy approaches you, this one so stunning you jump back at his advance. “How are you feeling? Better?” As he perches on the side of the bed a hand’s reach away from you, you pause to take in this face wholly. Waves of silver sprouting from his head, mesmerisingly angular eyes staring intently into yours, a small button nose and plump red lips. It’s a frightening type of beauty.

Gulping as you find yourself out of air from the overwhelmingly powerful presence in the room, you force yourself to nod. You only realise now that you are changed into a clean cream cotton dress.

In the dark far corner, the last man leans against the wall, observing with a guarded, austere demeanour. You can’t see him well in the shadow, but you see the gloss of his long black curls flowing around his clenched jaw. He does not say anything, does not appear to have the intention of joining the others gathered around you. Just silently watching.

These seven men… No, not men.

Phantasmal unearthly creatures.

Because there is no way that these towering bodies and other-worldly faces are mere mortals.

“Who are you?” Your voice is a croaky whisper courtesy to your chokingly dry throat.

“The answer to that is worth an eternity, love.” The boy sat beside you smirks, brushing his silver locks to one side. “I’m afraid you don’t want to find out.”

Your mind is whizzing, trying to piece together your surroundings, these strangers leering at you almost lasciviously as if you’re some zoo animal. Trying to grasp at your last memories, you remember the scenes in flashes. His fist, her cries, blooming agony, then darkness.

A blood-curdling realisation hits you.

You’re not dead.

You can’t be dead. You’re breathing, blinking, moving. You’re very much alive. And tragically so.

“Where is she?” You make the move to get off this bed but is blocked by the gorgeous blonde. A wolf wearing sheepskin, you wager.

Silence dangles in the air like a man hanging from a noose, the familiar gnaw of fear clenching your chest so tightly you don’t think you’re breathing. Then, “She’s dead.”

Those words are flung at you like a piece of rag but hit you like an arrow through the heart. Spoken by none other than the frowning man in the middle, arms crossed and eyeing you with callous indifference as if he hadn’t just announced the death of your younger sister.

You expect tears to erupt from your eyes but they don’t, you want to scream your devastation and anger at the world but you don’t. Everything goes still, calm, inert. Almost as if you can’t feel anything. The pain in your heart spreads like cracking glass torturously slowly, infecting your every fibre with a bleak shadow.

The mattress dips as Silver clambers closer to you and strokes your cheek gently. His touch ice cold, yet nothing compared to the numbness of your mind, empty, devoid of all feeling.

“I’m sorry, don’t be sad.”

Don’t be sad.

You let out a breath that would’ve been a laugh if you currently had the capacity for emotion.

“Enough of this shit, just cut to the chase and tell her everything she needs to know so we can get on with it, Namjoon.” Impatient and hostile, the one with black hair and a permanent scowl scoffs.

Namjoon, standing out amongst the seven not in looks but in confidence and stature, is their leader, you suppose. When he speaks again, you’re not surprised that he is. His tone is authoritative, articulate, a severe presence that demands attention. Almost enough to make you forget about the grief you’re bottling up for one second.

“What is your name, girl?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, listen to me very closely as I won’t repeat myself. We seven brothers hereby are siring you as our Feed, all seven of us. You will now be bound to us until death shows you mercy and lifts your curse that tethers you to us eternally. Forget your past life because you shall reside here in our manor for the rest of your mortal life for us to drink your blood.

“Under normal circumstances, each of us possesses one Feed each, but in your case, we shall distribute you equally amongst ourselves. There are seven days in a week which falls perfectly align with our arrangement. On Monday, you shall be my Feed, Tuesday, Seokjin, Wednesday, Yoongi, Thursday, Hoseok, Friday, Jimin, Saturday, Taehyung and finally Sunday, Jungkook. You shall be completely obedient to your sire of the day and your sire only, and in return we shall feed on you only on the day of which you belong to us. Due to the vigorous frequency at which you are being fed on, we have agreed to feed as lightly as possible to sustain you. If need be, you will be healed with our blood.

“You shall refer to me as Sir and only Sir; the others will decide the dynamic they wish to share with you. Do not for a second forget that you are our subjugate, our inferior and our prey. The magic that yields you to us is powerful, thus you have no choice in this matter. Many before you have tried to defy during their early days as a Feed only to quickly fail and fall to submission as they should. Heed this as your only warning.

“Do you or do you not understand, Y/N?” When he finishes, he juts his chin high at you and sucks in the meat of his cheeks between his jaws.

The fire poker that is his glare sears into you, sizzling its mark into your pit of dread. None of what he just said makes an ounce of sense to you, and it’s definitely not because of your dazed state from your newly-regained consciousness.

Just who does this man think he is? And what in ten Hells is he going on about?

“No. I don’t fucking understand.”

Shock registers in all their eyes when you spit your bitter dispute at Namjoon. You swear there’s a glint of twisted excitement sparking from the redhead.

“I’m afraid you will have to repeat yourself. Sir.” You continue when none of them utters a syllable. “First, you tell me my sister is dead. I believe you. Then you’re spouting some speech about how I’m ‘sired’ to you all and you’re going to drink my blood every day of the week because I belong to you? Is this some sort of cult or is this Hell?” Looking around at them, they all seem taken aback by your outburst, stunned.

“Oh my… This one is going to be fun.” The blonde boy mirths at you, tongue gliding over his row of pearly teeth. It is now that you notice the sharp point of his fangs in place of his canines. You freeze.

“Isn’t she? I’m going to go mad waiting until Thursday. Can I have a bite right now? Just a drop so I know her taste?” He is bouncing on his toes, thrilled by the anticipation.

“Hoseok, hush.” Namjoon silences the boy’s fervour before turning to you. “Y/N, if you insist on defiance, I promise you endless suffering. Let me clear your confusion. We are vampires that rely on blood as our food. You are our chosen victim, our Feed. The supernatural sire bond will eventually click into place between you and each one of us, forcing a mutual loyalty between Vampire and Feed. This will be clearer as the days go on. I suggest you-”

“Right, vampires.” You interrupt before he can continue his nonsense. How did you end up in some vampire-worshipping cult? “If you guys are vampires, then I’m a freaking angel. You are all insane. I’m leaving, goodbye.”

Frantically crawling off the bed, you head in the direction of the door. If your sister is really dead, then what happened to your uncle? You hope he’s dead too. Either way, you have no home to return to, but still you need to escape these men for your own sake. You can’t escape one lunatic only to end up in the lair of seven more.

But before you could even step your bare foot off the bed onto the wooden floor, frozen fingers snake around your wrist like a venomous serpent and lock you in its clasp.

“You are an angel, kind of.” Hoseok chuckles and tugs you back onto the bed, you’re unduly aware of how close he is hovering over you.

“You’re also dumb as fuck if you think you can leave, did you not hear everything he just said?” The sourpuss beside him shoves at your shoulder not at all lightly until you sink onto the mattress on your back. “You couldn’t leave us even if you tried.”

“No need to be so rough on her, Yoongi, she’s confused.” Brows pinched in disapproval, the pink-haired man chastises softly, and to your surprise, this Yoongi just scowls but dips his head.

Pink seems to be kind, the only one here that appeals to your plight apparently, so you scramble on your knees over to his side for your second attempt to escape. But his gentle hand reaches out to stop you, hand raised inches away from your chest, preventing you from moving forward and slipping past him. There’s a guilt in his eyes that you cannot comprehend. Why can’t he let you leave if he is sympathetic towards you?

“She still doesn’t get it, hyung.” The beautiful blonde boy on your other side shakes his head with a pernicious smile. “We need to show her.” His appearance is a trap, you know that with absolute certainty as you look into the renaissance painting that is his face. Yet you cannot help the attraction that sings you towards him as he draws his finger under your chin, guiding you closer into him.

He looks over to Namjoon as if for approval, who only stares at the scene of him luring you into his grasp with an unreadable expression. At the lack of disagreement from others, his finger now traces down to your neck, wandering over your heavy pulse. You gulp.

“Taehyung…” Someone warns, yet the delirious state you’re in at the hands of this boy’s enchantment does not allow you to recognise who.

His eyes are the palest of blues, a cloudless summer day with a soft seaside breeze. Your gaze follows his tongue wetting his lips, then trailing his sharp teeth. How do his fangs look so real? They oddly suit him, painting a wild beastly image of him that is concealed by his soft innocent features until he opens his mouth to flash his whites. You’ve never seen someone as good looking as him. As all of them.

Seductively, Taehyung leans into your neck and buries his nose in your scent. When he sucks in sharply, you sense his craving, his arousal. You’re frozen in his clutch as his hand circles behind you so delicately, unsure of what to do with yourself, unsure of what he’ll do with you. Lips tenderly caressing your jugular, you shut your eyes, intoxicated by his touch.

“Left neck is mine.” He growls, the aggressiveness of which surprises you so much so that the words he speaks don’t manifest its meaning to you at first.

Then a scorching hot pain explodes in your neck, so violent that you shriek out and try to twist away. But something is latched onto you like a hook, two hooks in fact. When your open your eyes, you realise that it’s his teeth that are sunken inch deep into your neck, penetrating a dizzying agony into your whole body. After a still second, you begin to feel a pressure pulling out your blood like a vacuum. A tear trickles out the corner of your eye at the burning sensation.

What the fuck?

He is… drinking your blood.

You try to push him off but a strange force like phantom hands bind your muscles and prevent you from acting on your will.

The magic that yields you to us is powerful, you have no choice in this matter.

Holy shit, Namjoon was completely serious. These people aren’t a brainwashed cult, they’re actually vampires.

Years of abuse, all the wounds you’ve endured, are nothing compared to the agony embedded deep in your neck right now. Absolutely nothing. Streams of scarlet flow down your garment like a spillage of wine, dark and thick and an indulgence to the tongue. You’re helplessly grappling on Taehyung’s shirt, tugging him towards you rather than shoving him away. This supernatural spell, or whatever the fuck it is, is overriding and going against your every intention to escape.

Vision hazy, you vaguely make out the other faces watching you struggle under Taehyung’s fangs. And when you think this nightmare could not get more harrowing, you notice a change in their eyes. By that, you do not mean a shift in expression, a frown or a squint. It is an actual physical transformation: the black of their pupils incrementally diffusing into their irises like a drop of watercolour, then the darkness spills over to the whites of their eyes until they are wholly onyx clouds.

“Taehyung.” Namjoon demands, and a sigh of relief escapes you as the sucking in your vein ceases. But rather than telling him to stop, he simply orders, “Share.”

Share? Share your blood?

Then the rest of the five prowl to gather around you, and despite your vertigo, you will never forget how monstrous they look. Eyes black as void, ivory fangs elongating like unsheathing claws, nostrils flaring at the scent of your blood, their food. Chest heaving as if struggling to hold back from ripping you into strips of meat.

“Bon appetit.” Is that Hoseok who’s leaping at your collarbone?

When his teeth sink in, you no longer have it in you to cry out. And then another on your right neck. Your head feels as if it’ll roll off your neck, only held onto the rest of your body by a ligament and Taehyung’s palm. A strong hand yanks your arm up and places your wrist in his mouth. This one hurts even more than your neck as you feel his fangs scrape carelessly against your bone. A soundless sob leaves your trembling lips. Then someone is gently pushing your legs apart, sniffing up the inside of your thigh. You try to kick him yet instead your leg wraps around his back and draw him closer. His purring resonates into your core as he licks his ravishing mark before piercing your skin once more. Blood seeps out the corner of his mouth and run down your calf like the tears you release in vain.

“Oh Hell, I haven’t tasted angel blood in centuries. I’ve forgotten how irreplaceably magnificent this is.” Someone throws their head back for a breath, sighing their satisfaction at your opulence.

No matter how much you thrash against the force that holds you in their submission, nothing budges. Like skyscraping obsidian walls surrounding your every side. Shadow scions twisting around your limbs into a lock.

Y/N, if you insist on defiance, I promise you endless suffering.

His voice echoes in the rubble of your brain like a bell, clanging its nauseating truth into you. Your consciousness is sand falling between your fingers, you try to hold on but the grains are ungraspable.

Then finally, the one with pink hair comes near you. A pitiful expression worn that makes you wonder how absolute the evil that lurks in them actually is, or whether it’s tainted with humanity.

He stops, brushes your tear away. “Sorry.” Trickery of your ears would not be surprising, considering the irony of his apology as he hesitantly lifts your other wrist to his fangs.

You last one second after his bite before fainting, body going slump but held upright by the six vampires feeding on you. Your last thought being: how terrifying the devils of Hell live in such beautiful deceiving skins.

And also that you hope you fucking die this time.

In the dim corner of the room, the last vampire watches, taciturn, as his brothers devour every last drop of crimson liquid that misses their tongues. Eyes narrowing at their wolfish hunger and your fainted state. Then slips away without as much as a word.

You wake up painless. Skin unmarred and unbroken. In the same room, on the same bed. Yet your red stained night dress tells you that it wasn’t a nightmare. It was all real.

Everything is silent though the clockwork in your head ticks loud. You try to process how you’ve been captured by a brotherhood of vampires, blood-sucking vampires, who have chosen you to be their personal blood bag. Their ‘Feed’. And you’re now magically bound to them, a force locking you in place and unable to resist every time you try.

What the actual fuck?

How has your life thrown you from torture to torture?

None of this seems possible. Vampires are a mythical creature, a fable. You have to be going insane. Or perhaps you actually are dead and this is your personal Hell designed to torment you for the rest of your afterlife. Not that you know what you did to deserve all this.

But it had felt so real.

You touch the spot on your neck where you were bitten, goosebumps raising when you recall Taehyung’s fangs first puncturing through you as if you were no more than a peach. That pain, that shock, bathes in its immortality in your memory.

Namjoon, their leader. His dictation of the rules that they are enforcing on you, his vexingly arrogant tone, the way his eyes squint down at you. What is wrong with him?

Then there is your sister. Her death. The initial heartbreak launched into you like a missile, but then somehow fizzled away into a bittersweetness that sours your throat. You won’t cry. Death was a mercy for her, it’s surely better than your predicament right now. She was innocent, she was sinless, she was pure. She deserves death when living was a worse fate.

There’s no point grieving her loss, right?

There’s no point, you convince yourself. And so you lock her sugar sweet scent and toothy smile away in your heart-shaped box and toss the key into the ocean of your emotions.

You wonder how your uncle fares. The cause of your misery and suffering all these years. The one who showed you that you’re capable of the ugly emotion that is hate. You don’t want to think about him, your fists already clenching in anger at the reminder of his alcohol-ridden breath. You hope he’s somewhere captured in this place too, experiencing worse than what he put you and her through.

If you ever see him, you would kill him yourself. Not a single doubt about that.

All this misfortune in you and your sister’s lives stemmed from one accident that resulted in the death of your parents. Your life before, a distant reverie. You had been happy once, scarless and untraumatized. Now you’re damaged.

About to be even more damaged.

Your coping mechanism has always fluctuated between two polarities. Either you are a shell of a living being, detached and numb to all the blows, merely rotting to your expiration, or some days you are so full of anger at the unfairness of this universe, so much resentment at yourself, your uncle, and even your parents for leaving you behind.

Right now, you’re the former. Hit by a wave of anaesthesia, and you’re grateful for it because you know the alternative is the manic loss of your sanity.

Sitting up, you regard this room. It is dark and sleek in nature, use of deep metal and glass for surfaces rather than the wood you’re used to at home. No, not home. That wasn’t your home. The palette is monochrome, primarily blacks and greys, devoid of any colour, reflecting the bleakness of your mental state. The room is lit by candles beside the bed, though a multi-bulbed light hangs from the middle of the ceiling, switched off. Curtains drawn shut, you have no idea what time of day it currently is, nor the passage of time. Furniture is lacking, only a marble chest of drawers, a cushion-barren loveseat, a pot of fern which you presume is fake because what plant can grow in such dull setting, and a double shelf of books.

There are three doors, one agape that opens up to what looks like an ensuite bathroom, the other two in adjacent corners, ominously calling for you to explore. Whatever lurks behind them, you can sense it won’t be the Garden of Eden. Either way, you need to find a way out of this place.

You’re about to leave the bed and scuttle to listen at the walls when you hear two soft knocks before the closer of the two doors opens. To reveal an angelic face that you now know is nothing more than a lie, his silver hair glinting from the candle flames.

“Can I come in?” His voice is smooth, saccharine, higher pitched than you expected. Though this is your second encounter with him, you don’t remember your first too well due to the overwhelm.

Clearing your throat, you reply, “yes.” Why has he even asked for permission when he didn’t need it? It’s not like you have a choice in the matter, or any matter in here apparently.

The way he strolls in exudes a swaggering confidence, a charm that you would buy into if you hadn’t witness him transform into a black-eyed demon and feel his fangs enter your flesh. When he sits on the bed, crinkling the satin covers, you fight the urge to recoil away from his proximity. He is dressed in a royal blue velvet suit that flaunts his collarbones, and tied around his neck is a red choker, the colour of which flashes a reminder of your own choker of your own blood sewn around your neck.

“Forgive me for not introducing myself before, I’m Jimin.” At his outreached hand, you blink. So these creatures are capable of etiquette and decency.

Hesitantly, like a cat sniffing a stranger’s inquiring finger, you place your hand atop his. Almost jumping at its iciness. When he lifts it up to plant a dry delicate kiss, you yelp and withdraw harshly, not caring that your knuckles hit his nose.

“You’re a shy one.” Jimin chuckles at your reaction to hide his hurt.

“No, not shy. Just not easy and willing like you want me to be.” The venom is harbouring in your chest now, melting away your numbness into an acidic puddle.

“You have a bite to you.” He muses, more to himself than you.

“So do you.” All your hatred, for your uncle, for your life, for these vampires, you’re channeling towards him at this moment. You know it might not be completely justified, he’s not the worst one out of them. But do you need a reason not to be sour towards your captor?

His face softens, though it was soft to begin with. He doesn’t look at you like his prey, and it confuses you because that’s what you are to him. “I… am sorry. I hope you understand that I didn’t choose to be like this.”

It dawns on you right now, as you for the first time consider his point of view. He didn’t choose to be like this. He really didn’t… You have no choice but to be bound to them. But they also have no choice but to need to feed on you. A lion does not choose to be cruel to the zebra, it simply has to in order to survive.

A tiny fragment of your firepit of anger smokes into nothing.

When you don’t say anything, a hint of worry appears in his eyes. “How are you feeling though?”

Alright, you almost say. Because that’s everyone’s default answer to this question even when they don’t mean in, even when they’re on the brink of a mental breakdown bubbling beneath their skin.

“Weird. Confused.”

“That’s usual for every Feed at first. But trust me, you’ll get used to it.” His hand is smoothing the soft sheets and you can’t help the feeling that they’re longing to touch you.

“Every Feed… How many have there been before me?” The thought is chilling, to think that this is some cycle of ritual.

“Y/N, you have to understand, we are ancient beings, we have been around for millennia…” Jimin glances at you fleetingly, as if worried about your reaction.

Millennia…

You don’t know what you expected, but certainly not this. That truth is truly horrifying. Vampires have plagued this very earth you inhabit for not decades, not centuries, but millennia.

“I don’t want to confuse you with more information, I think this much is enough so I’ll leave our story for another time perhaps.” His consideration is jarring. How can he act this caring right now as if he hadn’t just fed off your blood? And may do so any second now?

“Okay.”

A silence follows your reply that you intended to be the end of the conversation. There isn’t much one can respond to okay.

You’re keenly aware of how his eyes explore you, searching your face as if it were a map to the treasure he has exhausted himself with hunting for. His desire, a thing that scares you, radiates despite him not doing much. Doubt is planted in your head, you’re unsure of how to feel as you toy with the lining of the bedding. Namjoon was so blunt, so disrespectful with his superiority complex, insisting you to submit to him. But Jimin acts as though he wishes to befriend you.

Or maybe it’s to instill a false sense of security in you, so easier to lure you into his den.

“We’ve never done this before.” Jimin speaks again. “Sharing a Feed. All of us at least. Taehyung and I have shared before, but this… I don’t know how it will work.” He scratches his temple.

“Namjoon said only one of you would feed on me a day but then…” The feeling of six pairs of fangs biting into you gives you goosebumps. You hate the weak whisper that is your voice. You sound pathetic. But when you see his guilt and pity-stricken eyes, you feel an odd satisfaction.

“Sorry… I think we all just got too excited. We haven’t tasted angel blood in almost two centuries.” When he notices your alarm, he quickly explains, “Right, you don’t know you have angel blood. Humans that possess the sacred touch of those celestials are extraordinarily rare, every creature of the night wishes to vanquish them for the fortune they bring. To us vampires, your blood is like… like ambrosia - food of the gods. The taste so euphoric that it drives us to the edge of madness with desire and greed with just one drop.”

Angel blood.

A girl as mundane and peasant as you has fucking angel blood coursing through her system.

You want to laugh. What good does this stupid ‘sacred touch of the celestials’ if it not once protected you from the evil and adversities in your life? ‘Brings good fortune?’ Where the fuck has your good fortune been hiding then?

“I think I’m the one being driven to the brink of madness here,” is what you say instead of lashing out at him. “There’s no way. Why didn’t you get my uncle then? If I have angel blood then so should he.”

Your uncle with angel blood? The biggest joke this universe has played on you yet.

“No, it doesn’t work like that. The angels choose the selected few, born with a holy purity that makes them weep.” There’s a mockery in his tone when he describes those beings, as if they’re his archnemesis. “It requires the Heaven’s approval to imbue angel blood into an earthly being.”

You force a swallow. If the angels really chose you to carry their essence, where had they been when you needed them the most? What use is the angels’ good faith when they’re not there to guard you? You have so many questions, but you don’t know whether to trust his answers.

“Where are the other people with angel blood?” Why does it have to be you, you mean. Why always you?

“We’ve sought your kind our whole existence. You have to understand that your blood is like a drug to us, it’s a compulsion drawing us to find you. In our lifetime, we have sired a lot of the angel-blooded, probably hunted you so much that the angels are angry and decided to gradually relinquish this rite. We thought you were extinct, actually. Until we picked up on your scent and found you.”

Jimin finally gives into his inhibitions and holds your hand in his. This time you don’t flinch away, yet you’re unsure why. When his thumb caresses your knuckles, something in you jolts. His touch is so gentle, so unlike what you’re used to, and so unlike how he dug into your veins. You kind of want to cry. Because it’s been so long since anyone has shown this tenderness towards you.

Clearing your throat, you say, “And now I’m yours forever.” Until you suck me dry.

He senses the bitterness in your tone, your reluctance to belong to them. He seems hurt. It sends you down a whirlpool of confusion because he shouldn’t care.

“Y/N, I just want you to know that…” At the sincerity of Jimin’s voice, you lock eyes with him. “I can’t speak for my brothers, but me personally, I will never intentionally cause you unnecessary harm. My Feeds… mean a lot to me, I view you as more than food. I value and respect you, and though you may not for a long time, I wish for you to value and respect me too, one day.”

Resentment is a tiring emotion, it is a poison to your soul more than anyone else’s. You don’t want to hate him, or any of them. His words move you in a way that makes you almost believe that he isn’t a monster. Maybe he isn’t. It’s not their fault they were born like this.

And so you take your first step towards acceptance. Perhaps this is your future now. You hate everything about it, the pain, the submission, the restraint. But what other life have you got? There is nothing for you to go back to.

All of a sudden, Jimin twists his head to the side and freezes. You study his stunning profile, how he seems to be listening intently at what sounds like silence to your ears. Then the third door to the room swings open. Namjoon’s entrance is one like a villain’s in a horror film, with church organs playing in the background and a sinister flash of lighting. He looks taken aback at the sight of Jimin but recovers quickly as he frowns in disapproval.

You take the chance while his attention isn’t on you to assess him entirely. He’s dressed in the same all-black suit, albeit shed the blazer, and you wonder why they are all dressed like they’re ready for a banquet in their own home. Or maybe this isn’t their home and you’ve just made an assumption. His hair is less neat than before, spiking up on the sides as if he has been running his hands through it in exasperation. Stern expression seeming to be permanently worn on his face, he enters the room without asking. The discrepancy of him and Jimin does not surprise you.

“What are you doing here?” Namjoon demands. So it appears that his rigid tone is used not only on you, but also his brother. It’s insufferable. You almost take a step back to square one, forgetting Jimin’s offering of peace.

When his eyes narrow at your hand in Jimin’s, the smaller male quickly release you. “Hyung, I was just checking up on her. No need to get so possessive already.” Jimin is pouting almost exaggeratedly, his previous sincerity towards you quickly dissipating into a rather comical persona. You wonder which one is a facade, which one is really him.

“Possessive?” Namjoon scoffs and stops in front of him, his height towering over the both of you. “You’re the one to talk when you have to worst temper out of all of us. If roles were reversed, and I was visiting our Feed on your day, I think you’d come for my throat.”

Jimin glances over at you at Namjoon’s exposing words. After your exchange, you can’t really imagine him with a temper at all, let alone the worst one. But these vampires have shown to be masters of disguise afterall, why should it shock you? You feel a part of the bridge Jimin was building between you crumble away. You shouldn’t have trusted him so quickly.

“I’ll leave then.” He doesn’t argue, which you guess proves that Namjoon’s point rings true. Jimin spares you one last weighty look, trying to convey to you that he had meant what he said, before leaving you alone in this dark room with the tall vampire.

Namjoon is quiet, assessing you with that dagger-like stare of his as if you’re a child who’s just doodled all over the wall with your crayons. It almost makes you shrink away, but your defiance grows bold with him, more than anyone else. You meet his eye with the same harshness he doles.

“It’s Monday today.” He says. It’s an ordinary sentence otherwise, but now it holds a meaning. You’re his Feed today.

You don’t know who out of these vampires you prefer, but it is definitely not Namjoon. He doesn’t have to say it, but you can tell by the disdain in his eyes that he does not see you as more than his next meal. Even if Jimin was pretending, at least he spoke to you with decency.

“For future reference, I would rather you not associate with anybody else but me on the days where you are mine.” The way he articulate certain words accentuates his snobbish attitude that you want to punch out of him.

And I would rather you not suck my blood or magically link my life to you until my death, you want to say. Your rage is returning at an accelerating rate.

“It wasn’t my fault he came into my room.” His brows draw at your snark.

“He won’t be doing so again. Also, refrain from using that tone with me.”

“What tone?”

You’re being especially difficult, and you pride in the way his mouth twitches in annoyance. A man of his character is easy to tick off. He moves his hand towards you and you flinch abruptly, the memory of your uncle’s raised fist fresh in your mind, in an instant reducing you to the scared girl you have been for so long. His hand ceases its motion midair.

When you meet his eyes, they are wide in alarm, as if he hadn’t expected such a reaction from you.

“I- wasn’t going to hit you.” His voice low, he lets his arm drop to his side.

His words perplex you, his softer tone even more. If you didn’t know better, you would say he looks slightly abashed. Guilty even.

Namjoon clears his throat at your silence, glare hardening once again.

“You have a sharp tongue, girl.” Tutting, he walks over to the bookshelves with his hands held behind his back like some professor.

“You have sharper teeth.”

His head whips back at your retort, then in a blinding speed you thought not humanly possible, he closes the distance he had walked from you, appearing a finger-length away in front of you. You stagger back on the bed.

“Don’t make your life difficult for yourself. As I’ve said, address me by Sir when you speak to me, and speak to me with respect, as you would to authority. Those are simple rule to abide, but if you knowingly continue to choose to break them, I have the capability to make your stay with us a living nightmare.” There is not the slightest humour in his eyes.

His threat would instill fear in anyone, except you have heard it all before and so it brushes past you like an autumn breeze. Brazen, you stand up on the mattress, the leverage allowing your height to surpass his as you look down at him.

“My life already is a living nightmare, Namjoon. It has been for a while now so your threat means nothing to me. You want me to speak to you with respect, but why the fuck should I? Your brother Jimin at least looks at me like I’m a human being. You talk to me like I’m no more than your dinner served in a dress. You want to hurt me? Go fucking ahead. Kick me, slap me, strangle me, burn me. I’ve had it all before.” Words tumble out of your mouth on their own accord, driven furious by his contempt. “You think you can command me to be your little bitch? Think again, because I will never,” you take one step closer to him, “ever respect a self-important cunt like you as long as you look down on me like that.”

The fury in his crimson irises brews quietly. Namjoon’s jaw is clenched so tightly his cheeks hollow inwards.

At the back of your mind, a small ounce of regret and fright registers. You have just yelled your wrath at the face of a millenia-old vampire, one who’s supernatural abilities you have not a single clue about yet. He could kill you right now, but you know he won’t. Many things are worse than death. He needs you alive, but only barely, enough to be his blood bag.

Still, you don’t cower as he pulls you by the wrist towards him, so hard that your foot missteps and you fall onto him as your knee gives way, inherently grabbing onto his shoulder for balance. Your faces are inches apart, closer than you would ever want to get to this monster. But what terrifies you more than your ill fate is how handsome he looks this close. His strong features carve into your core and you hate it. His musk fills your nose; he smells clean like cotton.

Your upheavance seems to have unleashed a cold storm from him. His silence is more frightening than when he speaks. But now that you are set on this path of defiance against Namjoon, you must commit to it. Can’t back down right now.

Then he brings your wrist to his mouth, grip not painful but tight enough, his eyes never leaving yours just as yours are locked on his, in a quiet battle between his dominance and your rebellion. If you look away, you let him win, you let him know that he has a hold on you.

So you watch as his sinks his sharp teeth into your pulsing vein without so much of a blink. The agony is a motherfucker, so intense your head dizzies immediately and your hand clenches spastically. Yet still, your eyes remain on him, even when your throat is itching to whimper at the pain. Does it hurt less the second time around? You would have hoped so but it doesn’t. If anything, because of the anticipation, it hurts more.

Namjoon doesn’t feed for long though. He doesn’t need to, this is no more than a show of his power. When he releases your wrist, blood oozes out of the two holes down your arm, dripping off your elbow onto the sheets.

You notice that his chest is rising particularly hard. He is trying hard to control his thirst. From Jimin’s description earlier, you gather that it isn’t easy for vampires when it comes to angel blood. It must be driving him insane right now. You don’t know how to feel. Perhaps empowered, but also afraid.

The black of his pupils is beginning to spread like the had done when they had all transformed earlier. He quickly turns away and take several steps back. Faced with his back, you slump down onto your knees in the mattress, trying to stop your bleeding wrist in your clutch.

“Fuck you.” You spit, though it comes out less harsh than inteded as a hesitancy holding you back. Provoking him is not a good idea right now.

His shoulders are rising and falling heavily as his breathing deepens. The sound of blood splattering from his chin onto the wooden floor fills the air. Right now you’re filled with uncertainty, of what is going to happen and what you should do. Is he vulnerable right now? Or is he more powerful after feeding on you? Do you make a run for it? Or do you keep your mouth shut and stay here?

“When will you listen, girl.” The deepness of his grumble stirs a wild hot sensation in you that you don’t understand. He is still facing away from you, heaving. You watch his closed fists clench tighter.

“I told you. Never.”

“How can you expect me not to lose my head when you oppose every single word I say?” His head hangs low, shoulder blades poking out at his black shirt.

“How can you expect me to willingly let you drink my blood for the rest of my life? Especially when you talk to me like that?” You train your voice to be more reasonable, less attacking, because you feel the danger lurking beneath his skin that he is trying to control.

“Just obey. Make it easier for yourself.” Watching your blood continuously flow out of your fresh wound makes your head light. You will bleed to your death if he doesn’t heal you, however he does that.

Still, you consider his suggestion. You could just obey, accept this as your life now - a Feed for seven vampires to take their turn with you. You thought your uncle had beaten all the self love out of you, but maybe after all, you still value your own worth. Submission has a disgusting taste. Or maybe it’s just that you want to anger one of them so much that they in the heat of the moment kill you, so you can finally meet your long-awaited death.

“I won’t.”

Everything is still for an ominous pause following your refusal. Cautious, you watch his strong back, unsure of his next response. Though there are no open windows or doors to the room, you feel a gust of cold air breeze past you, sending a flare of chills on the sides of your neck.

When Namjoon slowly turns to face you again, black wholly consuming his eyes, fangs protruding from his gaping mouth, still dripping with the red you paint, you know to be scared. You don’t have time to scuffle away when he whizzes to you with that impossible speed of his again. And in a blink of an eye, he is before you, knees hitting the edge of the bed. Panting, growling, yanking your throbbing arm up.

Namjoon before shifting is an insufferable prick. Namjoon after shifting is an unrecognisable beast. Well-spoken manner, pristine appearance, air of arrogance, all gone.

As he bites into your wrist again, you can’t hold in your shriek this time, not when the wounds he had pierced are still burning and bleeding profusely. You almost cry for help in your desperation, but remember that there’s no one to help you here. In this house are seven vampires, and you.

But then something feels different.

There’s a tingling in your chest, not quite enjoyable but also not unpleasant. Before you can grow accustomed to it, it accelerates like the heart-lurching pull of gravity, and squeeze your whole body into a tight compression. You feel as though you’re racing through space, yet your body is unmoving, slouched against his form.

Then, tug.

Something is pulling you. Someone is pulling you.

You look around through your half shut lids from exhaustion but see no one except the two of you.

Another tug. And you realise it’s not physical. There is a knot tying in your chest right now, and you faintly recall an uncannily similar experience when you had first woken up here. Like a cord, a rope violently pulling on your soul.

Is this… the so-called Sire Bond they spoke of that permanently fixes you to a vampire?

Glancing up gives you the answer you seek. Though his eyes are pitch dark, there is an indecipherable difference in them, something so minute yet so significant in the way he is staring back at you.

Namjoon stops feeding.

And inhales.

Exhales.

You tremble because you feel the animal that is his desire embrace you like a mist. During your encounter with him, both times when he had fed on you before, not once did he express desire even remotely unlike his brothers. Yet now…

His fingers around your wrist suddenly feel gentler. Stunned, you glare at each other, studying the other’s response at the tether binding your souls. Both your angers seem to fritter away into smoke.

Why do you feel… a hunger? A yearning for his touch?

Without realising what you’re doing, you wipe the back of your hand across his wet chin, your blood smearing into sangria stains. He lets you. You study his face, he studies yours. He is so infuriatingly handsome, you notice. You almost want to…

No, you do want to.

But why? What is wrong with you? Why are you wondering how his lips feel when they are red with your blood that he’s forcefully drinking?

You shudder because you see him glancing down at your lips too. You see the turmoil in his brain, the confusion from the twitch of his brow.

Then he firmly places his hand on your waist and bring your body to his. Though his touch is ice through the fabric of your garment, your skin feels warm. Scathing, in fact. This time when he sucks on your bleeding wrist again, it feels less aggressive. More… Intimate. You watch Namjoon’s eyes shut slowly in a state of euphoria, entranced by your taste. It doesn’t really hurt anymore; the sting is ever present, but now it is accompanied by a pulsating pleasure entering up your arm and running into your every fibre. His hand snakes around your back until you’re completely pressed onto his chest. Your own hand reaches his sternum to create space between you out of instinct but you find it stopping at his pectoral, your fingers curling over the firm muscle.

He leans into your touch, and you grapple onto his chest because your head is spinning, both from the supernatural bond coiling around you and the continuous loss of your blood.

After one last gulp, he releases your wrist from his mouth, but doesn’t let it fall to your side, instead carefully guiding it to his shoulder, urging you to circle your arm around him. Though his eyes are still obsidian and he’s still in his shifted beastly state, vulnerability is splattered across his face. This isn’t Namjoon from before. This is an entirely different being whom you don’t recognise.

Lifting his arm to his teeth, he rips into his own wrist, the puncture of his skin almost like a crunch of an apple. Your gasp is muffled when he places it against your lips, offering his blood for you to drink. To heal you.

The metallic taste you expect is absent. In its place is the juice of a fruit so fresh its sweetness cures your thirst and ailments. You don’t hesitate to swallow the fluid pouring onto your tongue. So now you know how you must taste to them.

Simply divine. Like drops of Heaven.

Though it must be magnified by miles for them. You are not even a vampire.

You watch him watch you drink his blood like it is some erotic ribald scene, the intensity of his glare shooting a flame to your core. And when your tongue licks at his skin to lap up the spilled droplets, he lets out a grunt and leans into the crown of your head. With his fangs still extended, his nose roams your hair, breathing in your scent that he is craving, but in a different way from thirst.

As Namjoon removes his arm from you, depriving you of his blood once more, you feel your bite wounds itch ferociously. When you look down at them, you see that your skin is sewing itself back together. Until it is once more porcelain-smooth. Not a single mark save for the crusts of your drying blood.

Unbelievable.

You are too shocked to even make a sound.

But that is quickly overruled by a different sensation - Namjoon’s lips brushing the tip of your ear. Your sharp inhale arouses him, you feel it stiffening at your hip. Holding your jaw firmly, he pulls away to look at you. And what an unholy sight you are: an angel-anointed girl with the blood of a vampire slathered across her snout.

There is a carnal glint in his onyx pools, you catch it the very moment before he kisses you. Hard and fast. Full of a desperation that has the bond between you winding you closer to him. You taste your own blood in his mouth, and it is bland and regular compared to his, but somehow the idea of your bloods mixing on each other’s tongues excite you. There is a hint of a voice in your head screaming at you to stop but you banish it. You have never felt a stronger desire than right now, in the arms of a man you hate.

Falling back onto the bed with his frame hovering over you, you allow him to guide your lips, wield you, mould you. When your hand reaches to cradle his cheek, he grips both your wrists and pins them above your head, holding them in place with a single hand big enough to encircle them both. Even in this monstrous inhuman state, his need for dominance eclipses the rest of his character.

You feel beside yourself under his kiss. So sensual, driven by lust. This isn’t you, but you don’t care. You don’t care about anything other than how much you crave Namjoon this very moment. When he grabs onto the flesh of your ass, you forget how much you had wanted to hurt him just minutes ago. And when you feel the tip of his fangs scrape gently against your tongue, you forget yourself altogether.

With a growl, he pulls away from the kiss and flips you over onto your front as if you weigh no more than a feather. Swiping your hair to one side, he grazes his teeth along your neck. It tickles more with the thrill of knowing that the could bite down anytime. You think you want him to. His hands ride up the flimsy material of your dress, it’s bumpy calluses exciting you. Then he puts his weight onto your ass, grinding his hard member into your crack with only mere layers of fabric separating you from his meat.

“Sir...” The word tumbles out at the peak of your moan mindlessly. You are truly not yourself.

At that, you feel his hefty cock pulse on your rear. Namjoon’s body falls onto you in defeat at your name for him as if that one syllable alone had slain him. His fingers wrap around your wrists again as he continues to grind furiously into you. The strap of your dress has slipped off your shoulder, and he takes your skin between his lips, brushed by his hot velvet tongue.

A familiar warm slick is pouring out of your cunt, wetting your panties and the crotch of his trousers. You need him so badly you want to sob. Your core is twisting and throbbing for him, aching to be stretched out. This isn’t enough. His cock sliding between the cheeks of your ass isn’t enough. You need him thrusting into you like this from behind.

“Fuck me, please!” You know his self control is ebbing away into oblivion like yours. You can’t wait any longer.

But then he sits up, so abruptly that the bed creaks loudly. Your whole back feels barren without his contact. You quickly twist to look at him, in time to see the black of his eyes slowly retreating to reveal white, then waning back to their normal crimson-tinted irises in a blink.

Instantly they are enshrouded in confusion. Disbelief.

Namjoon has shifted back to himself in an instant. No longer the demonic desire-driven vampire who was just pushing his stiff member between your ass.

“I-” He chokes.

Your high gradually rides down its hill as well as clarity begins to fill your cup once again, clearing away the fog of your vertigo. Your senses, your own self creeps back into your body as you register what was going on. Breathing heavily the both of you, for a dreaded second, all you do is look at each other.

Then without another word, he speeds out of the room like lightning, the echo of the door slamming shut after him startling you.

You blink and he is gone.

Leaving you wondering what the fuck had just happened.

And what the fuck had you done to each other.

❦

@serendipity-secrets @killcomet @askingtheimportantthingshere@blackpanther4550 @comingjimin @unatempesta-dipensieri @dapppphhhhh

❦

03/10/2019

1K notes · View notes

thorongil82 · 4 years ago

Text

Forgotten But Not Gone

Fandom: Pokémon

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Word Count: 5,631

Can also be read on FFN and AO3

Summary: Ten years have passed since Ash disappeared from Pallet Town, with none of his companions and rivals knowing to where he vanished to. Now, the Pokémon Masters League, an event held every 20 years, is on once again, to find the strongest trainer in the world. Hosted in the Seishi region, who will be selected to compete in such a prestigious tournament? Will the event go ahead without a hitch, in a region still feeling the effects of the ravages of war? And will a certain young trainer resurface from the void to face what has happened?

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AN: So, here’s the story I mentioned in my update.

Decided to try my hand at one of those 'Ash disappears for x amount of time and returns for a tournament' stories, with a bit of a twist to both that and the 'Ash betrayed' concepts. It's not my first Pokémon story, though technically all that's been uploaded of the other is a prologue (over on FFN), so … more or less a new endeavour.

Now, to give a quick little bit of info, the events of this story start 10 years after the end of Ash's journey in Kalos, which is where this'll deviate from canon. We are starting from that 10 years later point, and I'll be drawing back to the events in that 10 year gap throughout, whether just as an allusion or an explanation, or as a flashback. I'll explain what happens with his Alolan journeys in the story too.

I'll have a bit more to say afterwards, so, please enjoy!

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Chapter 1 - The Frontier Is Set

The Seishi region; a land that had been ravaged by constant battles and war several years ago. Yet now, they stood in a shaky time of peace. A peace where, though the battling had come to a standstill for a few years, the people are still left recovering from their ordeals. But now, a new set of battles seem poised to engulf the region …

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The brightly lit stadium at the base of Mt Daybreak illuminates the surrounding buildings and landscape, with multiple coloured beams of light shining up into the night sky. Inside, many people are excitedly chatting with one another as they shuffle their way throughout the areas, collecting tickets, food, merchandise, or simply talking about who they believe will win tonight's oncoming battle.

Through this bustling crowd walks a group of five people. Leading at the front is a rather rotund man, clad in an aqua shirt with white Pokéballs and floral patterns typical of an Alolan design. Hanging from his neck is a pristine red Pokénav, folded down and compartmentalised, though not as shiny as his tinted sunglasses. A big grin is plastered on his face as he takes in the many people.

“Looks like we've arrived on fight night,” he grins, nodding in approval at all the spectators as a couple of kids dressed up in costumes – a girl in a small suit of flimsy fabric armour and a boy with wings on his back – dash in front of the group chasing after one another.

“Seems like it,” says one of the men behind him. Despite the slight wrinkles starting to grow on due to age, his yellow hair still stands wild, while he also wears a long sage green trenchcoat , a white turtleneck underneath and a pair of brown trousers. “Think there's any chance we can join in?”

“NO!” bellows the other man beside him, causing some people around the group to jump and glace at them. Meanwhile, the former just smirks unfazed as he grabs at his gloves and tightens them. “We are not here to battle with the locals, Palmer. We are here on business.”

“Aw, come on, Brandon,” Palmer says, looking towards the loud gentleman, adorned in a big buttoned cider green jacket and matching trousers, with thick brown hair with a few strands of grey threading through. “We're here as Frontier Brains. Surely if it's a tournament, we can just register and compete as well. We are supposed to be on the look out for strong trainers to challenge our branches wherever we go. Right, Scott?”

“Well, we shouldn't have too much trouble finding strong trainers here,” the round man leading the group chuckles. “Seishi's league has built up a reputation in its short lifespan for being strong. The gym leaders are known for being tough as nails, and the Elite Four even moreso. But, I don't think that tonight's battle is one you'll be able to join in on.”

“Come on, Scott,” Palmer groans. “It'll be fine if we take care of this business quickly, right? Then we've got all the time in the world to battle.”

“Those boys and their battles,” a woman sighs, trailing behind her companions as they continue bickering. The tallest in the group, she's donned in an outfit reminiscent of a Seviper, consisting of a purple halter neck crop top that shows off her slender figure, with long purple gloves on each hand, long black pants with a golden diamond pattern around her waist, and her long jet black hair cascading down her back, save for the red lowlights in the sides down her front.

She then turns back to the last member of their group. Another woman, her long shiny lilac hair is tied up at the base of her neck with a black ribbon before billowing out down her back to her waist. She wears a slim black blazer and matching tie, with a formal white shirt underneath, with skinny pants, shoes and gloves matching the rest of her jet black clothing. The woman is glancing around, her eyes quickly moving from one person to the next, as does those of the Espeon walking beside her, occasionally brushing her tail up against the woman's legs.

“Are you alright, Anabel?” the tall woman questions, dropping back slightly to walk beside her companion.

Anabel gives her a small nod in response, still keeping her eyes focused on the people around them.

“Epee?” calls up the Espeon at her feet, looking up at Anabel.

“I'm fine, really,” she reassures her Pokémon, all the while as a gloved hand slowly reaches into a pocket in her blazer. “Just a little anxious around this many people.”

Espeon lets out a purr and brushes herself against Anabel's legs, getting a small smile to cross her trainer's face, as her companion glances around, taking in the people who were getting more and more interested in their group. Though most of that was to do with the constant groans and insisting coming from Palmer, and the occasional bellowing denial from Brandon, the two women were also picking up some of the curious gazes due to them being part of the same group.

“Yeah, there's too many eyes on us,” she sighs, closing her eyes while clenching her hand into a fist. “If only Palmer could think of anything other than battling.”

She looks over to see Anabel give a short nod as she takes her hand out of her pocket and brings out three metallic balls, before holding the arm by her side and dropping the balls. They start to drop, only to hover in mid-air in a straight vertical line.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yeah, Lucy,” she nods as the balls start slowly moving in small circular motions as her fingers individually curl and flex.

The group continue moving on until they reach a desk with a few people standing behind it, while a couple of others quickly move away. One, a man with slicked back ashen brown hair and buzzed sides, catches Scott's eye as the group approaches.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“Yes, my name is Scott, and these are Palmer, Brandon, Lucy and Anabel,” he replies, gesturing to each person as he says their names, them giving a polite nod as they are introduced, before reaching inside his shirt and pulling out a document. “We were invited here by the champion for a certain meetup.”

The attendant nods as he takes the papers and quickly looks over them, before looking back up at the group.

“Of course. If you'll all follow me?” he says, getting up from his seat, quickly leaning in to whisper something to another attendant at the desk before walking off, leading the group over to a side door and through.

The group are lead up into a lift and then through a few winding corridors until they are brought before a large door.

“Please wait in here,” the attendant says as he opens the door for them. “Someone will be with you shortly.”

He gives them a short bow and walks away, leaving the group of five to walk in.

Inside is a large room that looks a little like a repurposed conference room, with a few couches spread around the sides of the room along with several chairs set up around the room. A few tables had been pushed together in the middle, with different bowls of snacks and glasses for drinks sitting atop. Positioned at the far corner of the right wall of the room from where they came in was another door, with a tinted window stretching out along the wall, while directly opposite was a third door that seemed to lead out to a viewing box for the stadium. Finally, hanging on the wall opposite the entering group of Frontier Brains is a muted TV broadcasting someone, with a round face, a flat cap on top, and four weird spiny growths growing from their cheeks, giving their analysis of the battle to come, with another couch sitting underneath.

Also, sitting around the room are seven people. The first, a woman sitting on her own with long blonde hair stretching down her back and covering her left eye, draped in a long black cloak with jet black furry cuffs and trims, a tear drop shaped ornament hanging from the base of the v-neck, a black shirt underneath, and black formal pants. She is sitting on a couch happily licking a double scoop ice cream cone and ignoring the constant flirtations of the second, a man with red and brown hair fanned out in a spiky mane, wearing a tanned poncho-style cloak with a large collared black shirt, white pants and a chain of Pokéballs hanging round his neck. The third and fourth, a man with spiked scarlet hair and dressed in a navy blue tunic with blood orange trims and black cuffs, with matching pants and a long charcoal black cape draped over his shoulders, sitting on a couch talking to an old man with a long white bushy beard and long frizzy hair, wearing a crimson vest with a light and dark blue stripe across the middle, and a pair of khaki shorts.

The fifth, a man with teal blue hair, adorned in a white beret and cape, a teal shirt with white sleeves, and purple pants, leans up against a wall with his eyes closed and arms crossed, softly humming to himself. The sixth, a woman with a light brown star-like hair design, wearing an all white outfit consisting of a long sleeved blazer with golden trims scattered throughout with two lacy wing-like bulges sticking out of the back, a pair of short shorts, and a choker from which dangles a golden swan-shaped necklace encompassing a dazzling stone, closes her violet shadowed eyes as the seventh, another woman with pine green hair and red rimmed glasses wearing a grey suit, a white shirt underneath tied off with a thin cherry ribbon tying it off, continues to talk as she gestures to the leather-bound book in her hands. All heads swivel round to the group of five as they enter, as Scott gives them all a small wave, before a few return to what they were doing beforehand, if they were doing something in particular in the first place. With a nod to the rest of his group, Scott walks over to the scarlet haired man and the bushy bearded old man, leaving the others to their devices.

“Ah, Palmer, I take it you've been training hard since our last match?” the blonde haired woman says, looking past the man with the spiky mane.

“Of course, Cynthia,” Palmer replies, walking over to the two. “I wouldn't hesitate to challenge you to another battle. Even here and now if it would take your fancy?”

Both Brandon and Lucy sigh at Palmer's challenge as The Tower Tycoon integrates himself into the conversation with Cynthia and the Unova Champion, Alder. Brandon then heads over to join in with Scott, the joint Kanto and Johto Champion Lance, and the head of the Pokémon League, Mr Goodshow. Anabel moves over to an empty chair and sits herself down, giving her Espeon a pat with her left hand as she jumps up into the Salon Maiden's lap, while using the right to keep the three metallic balls orbiting round through the air beside her. Finally, Lucy takes up a space nearby by an empty space on the wall, keeping an eye on the room and on Anabel.

After a few moments, the door by the tinted window opens up. First through is a giant hulk of a man, large in bulk and height. His arms are as thick as tree trunks, with winding braided and rune covered tattoos weaving along each arm, while wearing a sage green jumper with rolled up sleeves, thick brown gloves on each hand, and beige overalls sitting across his chest and legs. Sitting around his forehead is a thin golden band, while his golden hair with strands of grey is slicked back, along with his neatly brushed golden beard.

The second through is a young looking woman with tanned skin and shiny silver hair tied up into a ponytail. Wearing a thin white crop top and short jeans with an aqua blue sarong wrapped around her waist, she bounces in with a smile, looking around the room. Her eyes seem to light up even more as she spots Anabel, though, when she notices the lack of recognition from the Salon Maiden, it returns to the still energetic beam from before, as she leaps over the arm rest of the couch underneath the TV and lands at the same time as the giant before her.

The third and final through, as he shuts the door behind him, is a man with dark brown skin and braided chocolate brown hair, wearing a loose sky blue t-shirt over a skintight black undershirt and baggy black tracksuit pants. He takes his place between the two that came in before him, though he remains standing up.

“I'm sorry for the wait,” the man says with a short bow. “On behalf of the Seishi Pokémon League, I welcome all of you to our home. If I may begin the introductions, the man to my right is Sheamus, one of our Elite Four members.”

He gestures to the large burly man, who gives a nod and a grin as he raises his hand in greeting.

“To my left is Hikaru, another of our Elite Four members,” he replies, gesturing to the young woman on his other side who gives everyone a big wave and flashes a large shiny smile.”

“Hiya! How're you doing?!” she beams.

“And I'm Raphael, Leader of the Elite Four and Former Champion of Seishi,” he finishes with a bow. “Should we proceed with the other introductions, or are the rest of you acquainted?”

“Oh please, allow me,” Scott says as he stands up. “If you fine folk are not aware, I'm Scott, the head of the Battle Frontier. The people I came in with are the Tower Tycoon Palmer, from our Sinnoh branch, along with the Pike Queen Lucy, Salon Maiden Anabel, and Pyramid King Brandon, all from our Kanto branch.”

Each of the Frontier Brains gives a short nod and a wave as they are mentioned, before Scott continues on with his speech.

“I would have brought someone from our Johto branch as well if I could, but I'm afraid they were all busy with challengers,” Scott chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “As for the rest, beside me is the head of the Pokémon League, Mr Charles Goodshow, and the joint Kanto and Johto Champion, Lance.”

Both give a polite nod, letting Scott get on with the introductions.

“Over by our battling veteran Palmer is the Sinnoh Champion Cynthia, and the Champion of Unova, Alder.”

Alder gives a chuckle and a wave, while Cynthia gives a kind nod before returning to her ice cream.

“Continuing on, leaning against the wall over there is the recently recrowned Hoenn Champion and Top Coordinator, Wallace.”

“Guilty as charged,” Wallace says with a smile.

“And last, but certainly not least, the duo sitting over there is the Kalos Champion and superstar of the big screen, Diantha, along with, if what I've heard is correct, her manager, Kathi Lee.”

“Yes, that's correct,” Kathi Lee confirms as she snaps her book shut, while Diantha gives a simple smile to the rest of the room.

“Now, unless anyone has anyone else to say, I'll pass over to Mr Goodshow to explain why we're here.”

“If I may,” Alder interjects as Scott finishes, leaving the many powerful trainers in the room to look over at him, “I believe we were all summoned here by the word of Seishi's Champion. So, with all due respect, why is he not here to meet with us?”

“Ah, yes, well, that was initially the plan,” Raphael begins.

“However, the plans seem to have changed a bit thanks to tonight's battle,” Sheamus continues with a low, gruff voice.

“Is tonight's battle a title match?” Wallace questions, pushing himself off the wall and standing upright.

“No, it's a battle with our absent Elite Four member,” Hikaru explains. “It just so happens that he's giving her a hand with some last minute battle preparations.”

“Our hope was that he would still be ready to discuss terms with the rest of you, but it seems like they're taking longer than expected,” Raphael continues as he takes a seat between his fellow Elite Four members. “And besides, I tend to be the one who is more involved with any administrative work anyway, so it's not too big of a loss.”

“Alright then,” Wallace concedes. “Mr Goodshow?”

“Thank you,” Mr Goodshow says as he stands up, though is cut off as Lance holds up a hand to cut him off.

“I'm sorry, Mr Goodshow, but if you'll excuse me, I'm wondering why Scott decided to bring four Frontier Brains along with him for our talks,” the Dragon Master cuts in, looking towards the slightly rotund individual.

“Well, as I said I was hoping to have a member from each branch here, to make sure whatever concerns they had, if there were any, were taken care of,” Scott explains. “As it were, there was another reason for us to come.”

“Yes, I'd heard from our Champion that you were hoping to open a Battle Frontier branch here in Seishi,” Raphael responds. “I take it you were hoping to find strong candidates through this upcoming tournament to take the place of the Frontier Brains here?”

“Indeed I was,” Scott chuckles in good nature.

“Perhaps we should explain that the people here aren't that fond of outsiders,” Sheamus points out. “Particularly if they feel they cannot trust them.”

“I have been made aware of that, both by Brandon and others who have travelled here,” Scott responds. “That's why I was hoping to build it out of people local to the region, to keep the trust of the people. At the absolute most, your Champion and I were discussing the possibility of transferring one of our Kanto branch over to help set it up, and potentially be the final challenge.”

“You were?” Lucy pipes up, the three present Kanto Frontier Brains looking over to Scott in surprise.

“Indeed,” Scott confirms. “In truth, we were going to pick between one of the three I brought here, if it was needed. Though, admittedly, there were some complications with each of you.”

“Such as?”

“Well, Brandon still wants to continue on with his research into the many ruins around the world. It would be a bit difficult to set up a new branch around a man who may not be there for a decent amount of the time.”

“That is true,” Brandon concedes.

“As for you, I'm well aware that you aren't too comfortable around a lot of new people, despite how you like to hold yourself,” Scott continues, getting a slight blush from Lucy as she turns her head away. “I'm sure you'd come if I'd ask you to, but you'd probably prefer to stay at the Battle Pike right now. Lucy doesn't give much of a response other than a short hum, keeping her head turned away to try and hide the slight blush dusting her cheeks.

“Now, Spencer was also an option, but he is starting to get on in his age, though you better not tell him I said that,” Scott finishes with a laugh. “I believe it'd be a bit rough asking him to move over if he's not wanting to, or able to, keep competing in a few years time.”

“So, that leaves Anabel,” Scott concludes, with the many eyes in the room turning towards the Salon Maiden. “Had it been quite a few years earlier, I don't think there would be any question about her capability in fronting a branch here. But, as some of you know, there are some … hurdles that still need dealing with.”

Despite the number of eyes on her, Anabel shows no sign that she heard anything that Scott had said about her, instead focusing purely giving her Espeon some scratches underneath her chin, getting a delighted purr from the Sun Pokémon while still absentmindedly spinning the three metallic balls above her gloved right hand.

“But, perhaps that conversation should be continued with the presence of the Champion,” Scott concedes, turning back to the others. “So, are there any other questions?”

No one else raises any objections, leaving Scott to turn towards Mr Goodshow.

“Well, then, Charles, if you would?”

“Thank you, Scott,” the elderly man says as he stands upright. “And thank you to the rest of you for turning up.”

“Now, as you all know, we are here to discuss terms for the Pokémon Masters League coming up in a few months. Seishi is intended to be the hosts, and for the most part the preparations will be organised between us in the Pokémon League and Seishi region authorities, along with the Wallace Cup that's to be held.”

“Yeah!” cheers Hikaru as she leaps up from her seat. “I'll be working alongside Wallace to take care of that, if that's okay with you?”

“Of course,” Wallace says with a simple nod of his head. “I'd be glad to work alongside a fellow Top Coordinator to bring this prestigious contest to life here.”

“Awesome! We're going to make this the greatest contest ever!”

“As for the rest of you, you are brought in to make sure that the conditions work with the expectations of your own League members,” Charles continues on. “Each region will take care of nominating the participants coming from their own regions. If there's someone else from another region that you believe should be a part of the competition, then that's up to you to negotiate with their corresponding region.”

“I'm guessing that, because no one from Galar is here, that you weren't able to come to terms with them?” Cynthia pipes up.

“No, I'm afraid not,” Mr Goodshow answers says with the shake of his head. “Unfortunately, Chairman Rose refused to budge on his insistence of having portable Power Spots built here in Seishi to accommodate the Dynamax phenomenon that's prevalent in Galar. As it was, the professors and scientists here opposed the decision, as they can't say what kind of effect the energy dispersed from such an energy source could have on the surrounding area.”

“Especially as they aren't too sure what the continuous effects are of the energy the land gives off anyway,” Raphael adds on. “One of our Gym Leaders is leading the research into the full effects, along with our own Pokémon Professor.”

“Wouldn't that make Seishi a dangerous place to hold the World Championships, then?” Wallace inquires.

“As far as we can tell, it doesn't seem to have any major affects on either people or Pokémon, beyond expanding the move limit a Pokémon has from four to eight,” Raphael explains.

“It also appears to make the local flora blossom at a quicker rate, and at greater levels than other regions,” Sheamus adds on. “Of course, that is purely speculation based off of my own experiences in the field.”

As the talks continue on, Anabel starts to tune the others out as she keeps her focus on her Espeon, continuing to scratch her under her chin while also floating the balls above her hand. She keeps this up for a few moments, the noise of the others' conversations fading away into the void of her mind, before a small spike seems to emanate from her mind.

'… Anabel …' a soft male voice reverberates through her head, causing her to grimace as she grabs at her temple with the hand that was rubbing Espeon. The floating balls falter in mid-air, the wider arcs tightening up as they begin to spiral back into a vertical line.

“Anabel?” a different soft voice comes from outside, as Lucy suddenly places a hand on Anabel's shoulder, also getting the attention of Brandon and Scott. “What's wrong?”

'… I'm sorry ...'

“I ...” Anabel gasps, before whimpering as her head is racked with a sudden severe pain, coursing through her brain like an intense thunderstorm constantly striking her over and over with lightning bolts.

The metallic balls floating above her hand seem to shake in the single line that they currently hold, before, with another sharp gasp of pain, they shoot off quickly in different directions, a few of the others in the room quickly diving to the ground as they hurtle away.

“Espee? Pee! Espee!” Espeon cries out, her front paws pressing up against her trainer's waist. Her cries fail to get through, though, with Anabel crouching over and placing her other hand on her temple, as the sharp jolting pain continues to surge through her brain.

“Anabel?!” Lucy calls out as she crouches next to her fellow Frontier Brain, gripping onto her shoulders with both her hands. Ripples of energy start to emanate out from the Salon Maiden, as the pulses shake and vibrate the air and ground. “Talk to me.”

“I-I … I … Ah!” Anabel manages to sputter out before another wave of pain crashes through her. In a flash of light from Anabel's belt, a Pokéball pops open with a shiny sparkle, revealing a Gardevoir of an abnormal colour; with aqua blue skin where there would normally be green and orange where there would be red.

“Gardevoir?!” Gardevoir cries out as it appears, before quickly taking its place beside Lucy, placing her hands upon her trainer's temple, the lithe limbs delicately sliding underneath the gloved hands of Anabel. “Gar? Gardevoir?!”

“It just started happening again,” Lucy explains desperately, while all she receives from the Salon Maiden is a shaky nod. Gardevoir then closes her eyes and starts to hum, as a circle of light pink energy radiates out from her.

“It's using Heal Pulse,” Diantha observes as the glowing energy created by the Embrace Pokémon starts to wash over Anabel. Her pained whimpers and gasps quickly fade away as the healing power takes hold, the pulsating pink light slowly fading away. With the last of the energy dispersing, Anabel straightens back up, a small smile on her face as a hand reaches up to cradle one of Gardevoir's.

“Thank you, my friend,” she whispers.

“Voir,” Gardevoir nods, standing upright before gliding behind her trainer. Anabel reaches down to scratch Espeon's ears as the shiny Gardevoir rests her head atop the Salon Maiden's and wraps her arms around her from behind, gaining a slight squeeze from Anabel.

“I'm alright now,” she says, albeit a little shakily, moreso to her Pokémon than to anyone else. However, as she finishes giving both Pokémon a gentle squeeze and scratch, her eyes drop down to meet Lucy's, who's still looking up at her with a worried expression.

“Are you sure?” she presses, ignoring the other eyes on them as she gets a nod from the trainer, along with an affirmative confirmation from both Espeon and Gardevoir. “Do you know what triggered it this time?”

Anabel takes in a deep breath and closes her eyes, before quickly opening them and sharply gazing over towards the tinted window.

“There's someone behind there,” she declares, causing the others to look over to the same place.

With a sigh, Raphael stands up and says, “If you'll excuse me for a moment,” before heading walking across and through the door by the window.

“Is there a problem?” Cynthia puts to the two remaining Elites as the door clicks shut behind Raphael.

“No, not at all,” Sheamus replies with a boisterous laugh. “If I had to guess, I'd say our Champion has finally arrived.”

“I guess Jeanne's preparations are done,” Hikaru muses, shuffling her body round so she is sitting with her back against the seat of the couch and her legs resting on the back.

“Was that the hurdle you were talking about?” Lance quietly asks Scott, leaning over as they keep an eye on Anabel.

“That's part of it,” Scott admits, shifting his legs back flat against the chair to get out of the way of Espeon, having jumped down off of Anabel's lap to collect up the balls that had been sent flying around the room.

“Part of it?” Lance repeats, hoping to press for more, only to be left without an answer as the door opens up again. All eyes in the room head over to the entrance as Raphael walks back in, followed closely behind by another individual.

The person accompanying Raphael has wild shoulder length hair that spikes out at random angles, with a large bang that covers the left side of his face. The right side is partially covered by a wide-brimmed hat tilted down over it, obscuring the eye while still showing off some of the scars, gashes and burns spread across his right cheek and jawline. Draped over his shoulders is a midnight black cloak with a small golden outline, closed up over his chest and stretching down to his knees. Peaking out underneath the cloak is a worn and slightly ripped pair of navy blue pants.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to present our Champion, Aaron,” Raphael introduces, who wordlessly greets the room with a tip of his hat with his right hand, revealing a seemingly sleeveless arm and a fingerless glove with a small round cerulean gem embedded into the back. Anabel almost swears she sees his head shift slightly in her direction while he had his hat tipped, only for it to return upright in the blink of an eye.

“Jeanne's all ready to go?” Sheamus asks, getting another silent response as the Champion nods.

“Well, it is nearly time for the battle to start,” Raphael muses aloud while glancing over to the TV screen, the camera image having switched to the battlefield as the noise of the crowd outside starts to pick up. “Seeing as we've pretty much taken care of everything we need to, why don't you all stick around and watch the battle? There's a private viewing box through that door that we Elites tend to use for challenges here.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Alder accepts, along with the Frontier Brains and Champions, save for Diantha who glances towards her manager. “I guess it can fit in our schedule,” Kathi Lee says after a short beat, having looked through her journal. “But we're leaving if it starts to take too long. You need to get back for a shoot in Lumiose City tomorrow.”

Diantha lets out a little giggle as she gets up, along with the others, and they start to make their way over to the door, with Sheamus opening the door for them. Both Alder and Palmer dart over to the tables to grab some food, both getting a bowl of different flavoured chips, while Lucy grabs a cup of tea for both her and Anabel. Diantha also skips back over to the table and cuts herself a big slice of the chocolate cake sitting there, much to the dismay of her manager, before being joined by Cynthia.

“You guys go ahead,” Scott says, mainly addressing his Frontier Brains as he and Mr Goodshow move over towards Aaron and Raphael instead.

“We've still got a few more details to go over with our host here,” Mr Goodshow explains.

The others all nod as they walk on through. Anabel lags behind at the door, as does Lucy who is keeping an eye on the Salon Maiden, as she pulls out a Pokéball, enlarges it, and starts to aim it at her Gardevoir, only to stop as Gardevoir shakes its head.

“You want to stay out?”

“Voir,” Gardevoir answers with a nod.

“Okay,” she concedes, before minimising the ball and placing it back on her waist.

“Espee,” Espeon pipes up as she comes over, eyes gleaming in a pale blue light as the three metallic balls that were scattered earlier float back up to Anabel, each outlined in the same blue light.

“Thank you, Espeon,” Anabel says with a small smile, taking the balls and pocketing them inside her blazer. As she does, she glances back over her shoulder, spotting Aaron expressionlessly looking in her direction along with Raphael and Scott, the latter giving her a smile and a nod, while Mr Goodshow seems to be caught up on the footage on screen.

'You were the one in my head, right?' Anabel contemplates as her eyes seem to catch with Aaron's, barely seeing his left through the thicket of hair obstructing it. There almost seems to be a slight shimmer flickering in that eye, as their gazes lock onto each other's.

'Why? What do you-?'

“Anabel?” Lucy speaks up, breaking the Salon Maiden out of her thoughts.

With a shake of her head, she lets out a breath before walking out into the spectator box, accepting Lucy's offered cup of tea with a short thanks as they pass through together, with Hikaru the last to leave, sliding the door shut behind her. With that door shut, the door by the window opens back up, with a Pikachu swinging in by the handle. Dropping down, the yellow Mouse Pokémon darts across the floor before climbing up Aaron's back, sitting up on his right shoulder.

“Pika pi,” Pikachu sadly says, his ears drooping down as he glances to the Champion. “Pikachu?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Aaron softly answers, giving his partner a nod and a short pat between his ears.

“Pika …”

“Couldn't help yourself, eh Champ?” Raphael sighs.

“She hasn't …?” Aaron inquires, directing it towards Scott.

“No,” he replies with a shake of his head. “Anabel still hasn't regained her memories.”

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

AN: Well, I wonder who that could be …

So, yeah, part of why I was wanting to write this story was to play around a bit with the concept of Anabel having amnesia, which was brought in in S&M. With some differences, of course.

Now, the next chapter was going to be people - particularly Ash's former companions - finding out if they've been invited to compete in the tournament. That'll still be a chapter, but maybe not the next depending on what you guys want. I'm giving you all the option as to if you want the planned next chapter to be next, or if you'd rather read the battle between the challenger and the other Elite Four member, Jeanne. The challenger was initially going to be between 3 people, but now down to 2. Alder was one of my options, but I decided against it. Otherwise, there would have been a different champion representing Unova. 1 guess as to who that is. So, by all means let me know if you've got a preference.

Also, please feel free to let me know what you think so far. Thoughts, feedback, analysis, predictions, suggestions, all are welcome. I'm happy for people to suggest OCs for contenders in the tournament - I can't promise that they'll last - or even if there's a particular ship you want to see. I make no promises it'll be there, and I'm not budging on 2 ships that will be happening in the story. Beyond that, anything could happen.

I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as I can. Obviously that'll depend on what's coming next, so, until then, adios!

#pokemon #fanfiction #fanfic #ash ketchum #pokemon fanfic #my writing #forgotten but not gone #anabel #lila #satoshi #pikachu #battle frontier #abilityshipping

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vlasdygoth · 5 years ago

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some palette meme fills i did on twitter, using this one

id under cut

1. An orange toned drawing of Jacobi, a man with light skin and short, spiky black hair. He is smiling and looking to the right.

2. An orange toned drawing of Hector Hu, a man with dark skin and short, curly, greying black hair. He wears round sunglasses and a priest collar, and is lit by a harsh light from behind.

3. A blue and yellow drawing of Fourteen as the Body Politic, a person with grey skin and horns, and a yellow ponytail. They are looking up, distressed. They wear glasses and a yellow collared shirt.

4. A purple and yellow drawing of Signet, a woman with light skin and wavy blonde hair, half up in a bun. She is smiling serenely. She wears earrings and has a beauty mark under her left eye.

5. A blue and tan drawing of Blue J, an oni with dark blue skin and fluffy black hair. They are wearing a high collared, fur-lined shirt and hood. They are frowning slightly.

6. An orange and green drawing of Benjamin, a young man with dark skin and short black hair with a white streak. He is frowning, staring straight ahead. He wears glasses and a green hooded cloak.

7. A pink and purple drawing of Ephrim in profile. He is a man with pale skin and greying black hair. He is looking down pensively. He wears dangly earrings and a button down shirt.

#i'm done with the meme dont send me more thank u #fatt #w359 #jacobi #hector hu #fourteen #signet #blue j #benjamin #ephrim

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fugaciousgloom · 5 years ago

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Oumeno Day 2 - Part 2

Prompt: Royalty

"I have no idea."

Her mother shook her head and rubbed the bridge of her nose, "I guess we'll have to find someone else."

The princess's heart sank a little.

She didn't want to marry someone she didn't love.

Her mind raced as she left the throne room. Before she knew it, she was back in her room.

Only one thought crossed her mind as she lay down in her bed.

Run away.

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Himiko sat on her balcony that night. A cloak covered her head and back, a bag slung around her shoulder. She was going to escape this castle

When Kokichi showed up that night, he didn't seem very surprised.

Himiko looked up at him, "I- I'm running away."

He looked her up and down, "You sure? It's a long journey down there."

She nodded confidently, though her legs practically vibrated with nerves.

He held his hand out to her and helped her climb up on the ledge. Just as she swung her leg over, the bedroom door opened.

Turning her head, Himiko saw Tojo standing there. She just stared for a moment before smiling and nodding, closing the door quietly.

Sighing in relief, Himiko stood on the ledge.

"I'm warning you," Kokichi started, "It's a long way down."

"I'm ready."

Kokichi made the first move, picking Himiko up by her waist and grabbing a sturdy branch from a nearby tree.

He let go as soon as they were safely on the branch. He crouched and dropped to one below it.

The redhead watched as he dropped three more branches before calling up to her, "Come on Himiko!"

Her stomach churning a bit, Himiko crouched like Oma did. Swinging her legs over the side, she dropped slowly onto the branch below.

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

The princess clung to Oma as they made their way through the village. Despite the time of night, the roads were bustling with life. Three girls were playing music. One on the piano, one singing, and one on the guitar. Even with such different instruments, they worked together nicely. A girl nearby was dancing to the music while a redheaded girl took pictures.

She saw a small boy with a leather jacket smoking near a bar. Another small boy was trying to sell pastries from a cart.

A girl with long brown hair was leaning against a motorcycle talking to a tall guy with spiky, purple hair.

Suddenly, she felt a tap on the shoulder. Turning, she came face to face with a girl with blonde hair. She immediately smirked when she saw Himiko's face, "Hah, looks like Kokichi's got himself a girl!"

Oma whipped around to face her before rolling his eyes, "Relax Miu, she's just passing through."

The girl, still laughing, turned and walked towards the girls playing music, sitting next to the girl playing piano.

Kokichi grabbed Himiko's hand and dragged her along.

"Wait, do you think I could explore a bit?"

He stopped, "What?"

"I've never been down here before," she reasoned, tugging on her cloak, "I'd like to explore!"

He thought for a moment, "Okay, but keep your hood up."

She beamed as she made her way towards the music.

People were dancing and giving the girls tips. The one playing guitar had messy black hair with pink streaks in it. The pianist had blonde hair with music hair clips and the singer had long blue hair.

She swayed a bit to the music and watched people go in and out of the bar. Some people in the crowd were holding beers and nearby children were dancing or drawing on the road with chalk.

Suddenly, she spotted Angie painting. Making her way over, she noticed Tenko sitting next to her smiling and leaning on the artist's shoulder. Her eyes were closed and she had a bandage wrapped around her shoulder and torso and a brace for her back.

"Angie, Tenko!"

Angie looked up and a huge smile crossed her face, "Ah, Himiko!"

She ran up to the two and Tenko's eyes opened slightly. She sat up the best she could, wincing a bit as she held out her arms, "Miko, it's so great to see you!"

As gently as possible, Himiko hugged her friend, "Are you feeling any better?"

Instead of answering, Tenko asked her own question, "Why are you here?"

"I..." she didn't really know if he should tell her, but she decided to get it over with, "I've run away."

Tenko straightened at that, hissing in pain, "What?"

"My mother wanted me to marry someone I don't love, I'd rather live down here." She looked around, "It seems so great down here!"

Angie lowered her brush, "Have you been praying to Atua every day?"

"Um, yeah."

Kokichi walked up beside her as the song changed, he held up his hand jokingly, "Wanna dance?"

She giggle a bit, "Certainly." Taking his hand, she heard Tenko hiss behind her.

"You'd so be dead right now if I wasn't hurt!"

Together, they walked into the crowd.

#oumeno week #oumenoweek #oumeno #ouma #ouma kokichi #yumeno x kokichi #oma x himiko #himiko #himiko yumeno #drv3 himiko #drv3 #danganronpa #royalty au

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wheremytwinwatches · 5 years ago

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 1

All right, time for a new show! Tephi’s been pushing me to watch Fullmetal Alchemist for a while now, and now that I’ve finally moved into my apartment I can sit down and watch this show. I understand that there are two versions, one original that outpaced the manga and another that was made after, and based on recommendations I’m going with the second, Brotherhood. For those following along at home I’m going with the iTunes version of Brotherhood, as this lets me watch on my phone and type at the same time, and frankly at my pace of reviewing any subscription way of watching Brotherhood would probably be more expensive than just getting the series. Here’s what I know starting out: -The main characters are Edward and his brother. -Due to Reasons, Bad Things happened which resulted in Edward getting a robot arm and his brother(‘s soul?) getting put in a giant suit of armor. -The magic of this setting is Alchemy, with all sorts of rules and laws. -The phrase “Equivalent Exchange” is something that comes up a lot, and whenever I say those words where Tephi can hear she starts cackling. And that’s it! So Tephi’s highly recommended this show, I’ve got the first episode downloaded, and some spare time this afternoon. Let’s do this!

Familiar little Aniplex jingle… Funimation logo… Overhead shot of a city at night. Interesting layout, what looks like a castle in the center, with brightly lit lines tracing away from it. And a hexagon street layout? Suddenly I’m getting the biggest Lumiose City vibe right now. But the screen fades to someone drawing a circly-chalk thing, while a bunch of string instruments make it clear that This Is Not A Good Thing. The amateur artist is some dude with dark hair and stubble, looking grim as the camera pans out of the dark alley to the brightly-lit castle. “The Freezing Alchemist?” says someone who the subtitles have helpfully named Roy. Another guy, apparently Bradley shows a file with a picture of yup that’s the guy trying to set up hopscotch. Seems he snuck into ‘Central’ a few days ago, and now Bradley (who has an awesome eyepatch, and I will now call Fury) is making it Roy’s problem. Wait wait wait, “Mustang”? This character is named Colonel ‘Roy Mustang’? Damn but that’s a manly name. Mustang’s ready to go catch Mr. Freeze, but it seems Bradley has one last thing: a certain ‘rising star’ is here as well. Hmmmm, my Protagonist senses are tingling. And Fuhrer Bradley- Wait. What? ‘Fuhrer’? Um. I am torn between the unfortunate connotations, and glee that I get to call this character Fuhrer Fury. But no time to think about that, because Fuhrer Fury confirms that he’s talking about The Fullmetal Alchemist. Edward Elric. “Aw damnit. The colonel’s never gonna let us get outta here, is he?” What’s this? Anyways, I can recognize this guy as Edward, our special little star. Wonder what this is about. “We already got our tickets to Liore, too. Does this mean we’re not going?” And this is…Alphonse? Not gonna lie, a little thrown by the voice here. I look at this metal helmet, with glowing eyes and stylized fangs, and it just seems… young… oooh, I just realized. Whatever caused Alphonse to end up in that suit, if it’s just his soul he wouldn’t technically age, would he? How young was he when whatever happened? And holy crap that’s a really big suit of armor, like Edward looks tiny next to it. What’s the story with this armor anyway, how did all this stuff happen? Eh, maybe I should stop wondering and just keep watching. Intro! Edward with a ponytail and ragged shirt? And I thought he had a robot arm? Lady smiling with leaves blowing around, then AAAAAWWWWW lookit the widdle babies, widdle Edward and Al ooooh so cute wait why do you look scared and the door’s closing? Sudden Shiny Glasses on frowning man with strands of blond hair. Explosion! Edward and Al facing a wall of fire as the title comes up. Burning tree/house? Shot of Determined Edward scowling at wind that’s mussing up his hair before throwing his hands out. Casting? Shot of what I believe to be the Shiny Glasses man from before, has a ponytail and epic beard along with those unruly hair strands. And the glasses are remaining Shiny. Is he their dad? Guessing at family connection here. Turns away. Absent dad? Back to cute widdle kids taking a nap, along with a blonde girl. Sibling? Now they’re walking along a country road. Al’s armor? Running through a field. Shot of Colonel Roy Mustang (so manly!) also with the Shiny Glasses until they fade so he can glare directly at us. Then another black-haired man? Wait, was the second one Mustang, because I don’t remember seeing him wearing glasses. Who was the first person? Then someone singing? Then what the heck Kid Edward just lost an arm and a leg. And then Kid Al completely vanishes. And Kid Blond Girl looking shocked and stumbling. Flashes of people dressed in black against a red background, I have the sneaking suspicion that they are Not Good People. Shots of scowling people in blue uniforms like Fuhrer Fury and Colonel Mustang, the good guys? Smug looking guy with sunglasses and a fur coat, who just turned into a Terminator? Shot of Terminator running towards the Castle, where a Disapproving Fuhrer Fury is glaring. Lots of glaring in this intro. Edward running along a vent of some sort, fighting people in black clothes before EXPLOSION. Guy in white jacket sitting in the rain until it passes and he rushes off, white hair and some sort of facial tattoo? Small smoking lady with a barking dog. Edward running along and Earthbending to fight the Goth Villains. Then another shot of someone singing, I think this might be the Blond Girl grown up. Edward dressed in a black uniform (noo, don’t join the Goths! ) and a metal arm breaking. Foreshadowing? Final shot of two people standing against a setting sun. So… fairly standard anime intro. Granted, after PMMM’s Intro of LIES I will take all of this with a grain of salt. Back to the dark alleys of the city, what sounds like a cop’s whistle. Seems the police are trying to catch Mr. Freeze, but yup he’s a Waterbender and is knocks them aside with some painful-looking ice spikes. Two more cops try to stop him but...oh. Oh my. “Water freezes, water boils. Either way you’re just as dead.” Um. Wow, ok. That’s legitimately terrifying. Sudden spear from the sky, Mr. Freeze remarks that it was Alchemy before oh ew ew ew they showed the hand of the guy who got boiled please don’t show that again. Newcomer (probably our Protagonist) remarks that it was a nasty thing to do, but Mr. Freeze spouts out about great deeds requiring sacrifice. “Isn’t that the Law of Equivalent Exchange?” Oh hey, there’s that phrase. You know, I feel like this deserves some recognition, and Tephi finds it quite funny. So I’ve decided I’ll keep track of each time this phrase is said. Equivalent Exchange Count: 1 Regardless of whatever the rules of Alchemy are (and believe me, I wanna know these rules soon so I can try and figure out ways to minmax them), Edward says they don’t justify killing people. Edward grabs the spear and electricity sparks as he reforms it as a spiky club- pffffahahaha! That- that face! He put his freaking face on the tip! He put his freaking hair! Mr. Freeze’s all shocked about “no transmutation circle” but come on! That face! Sudden attack from behind by a surprisingly stealthy giant suit of armor, but Mr. Freeze dodges that and blocks the Face Mace, before shocking Edward and throwing Al. But he’s surprised? Oh, I get it. He tried to one-hit kill Edward like the cops, but grabbed his metal arm instead. Edwards mostly ticked that his coat got ruined. “An automail arm…” Dramatic cloak swoosh and oh good he just wears dark clothes below the red coat, he didn’t turn to the Goths in the intro. That’s a relief. Young talented alchemist, who doesn’t use transmutation circles (is that like HP wandless magic?) and who has an automail right arm. The Fullmetal Alchemist: Edward Elric! Episode 01 - “Fullmetal Alchemist” Now Mr. Freeze is pointing at Al?... Ah! Ha! Mr. Freeze is confused by the giant suit of armor being the younger brother of the “runt”. Edward take offense to that. Caught in an Earthbending prison, Mr. Freeze mumbles about the Fullmetal Alchemist being just a kid, and *wham*. Yeah, I’m guessing Edward being called little is a peeve of his. But come on, man. You travel with a giant suit of armor, you really do look tiny compared to that. Well, regardless of height complexes, Edward has caught the guy, and the NPC cops are suitably grateful… to the giant suit of armor. Yyyyep, I think this’ll be a running gag. Oh hey, so Alchemy can fix clothes too! That’s handy. Edwards all set to catch their train, now the cops have Mr. Freeze cuffed. They should be able to handle- nnnope. Just a few seconds out of their sight, and Mr. Freeze has split the scene. Colonel Roy Mustang’s snarking at Edward now. I like this guy! And looks like we’re starting with the Overconfident Non-Team Player Protagonist Model #17 with this show, looking foward to his character arc. Ooh, who’s that blonde officer standing next to Roy? The third of the Blonde Kid Trio? To recap the ignored briefing: Mr. Freeze is Isaac McDougal, aka “Isacc the Freezer.” Former State Alchemist (like these guys in blue? Government mages?), served in the ‘Ishvalan War’, never gave any signs of turning, but resigned immediately afterwards and has been working with the “antiestablishment movement” ever since. Capturing him is top priority… dead or alive. Hmmm. Ok, so I gotta be blunt. I’m obviously not going to cut slack on the whole ‘boiling a person alive’ thing, but… State Magicians? Their leader is ‘Fuhrer’? Pursuing a Rebel with little concern about their vital status? Maybe I’m still in a mindset after seeing the movie, but I could see this being replaced with ‘Sith’, ‘Emperor’, and… well, ‘Rebel’ can stay… and we’ve got The Empire. Maybe I’m reading too much into this? Anyways, back to hunting the Rebels. Edward resolutely states that he’s not going to kill for them, and Roy seems to respect that. Edward just has orders to help them contain Mr. Freeze. “Off topic…” Roy asks if they’ve got any leads for getting their bodies back to normal. Ah, so they’re trying to fix their bodies? ...why? I mean, if my guess about Al being soulbound to the armor is right that’s probably something you’d want to fix. Although, maybe the process can be used for older people? Like, immortal bodies and all that? Sorry sorry, off topic and way too early in the series for big transhumanist discussions. But, does Edward want to get a flesh-and-blood arm back, presumably a leg too based on the intro? Why? You have a robot arm, dude. I want a robot arm, and you want to get rid of yours? Heck, it saved your life just a few minutes ago! If you had a flesh-and-blood arm, then when Mr. Freeze grabbed you we’d get a Boiled Protagonist and an exceedingly short show. Anyways, Edward goes into yelling mode about ‘if they ever gave them time to look’. Sorry Ed, them’s the breaks of being the Protagonist. Every NPC’s got a quest for you to do, not much time to study. Door bursts open and a guy with square glasses and a cheerful greeting bursts through… with an upraised arm (damnit show, stop making me draw parallels). Roy… does not seem pleased with the interruption. “Here comes that pest.” I like this guy! And yup, Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes immediately goes to the Giant Suit of Armor to introduce himself. “What?!.. You’re the Fullmetal Alchemist?” What’s up with that name, anyway? Totally misleading, Edward’s only about ¼ metal with the arm and presumably leg. Anyone hearing ‘Fullmetal’ would obviously assume that the guy who’s, y’know, made entirely of metal would be the Fullmetal Alchemist. But Hughes isn’t just fanboying, he’s here on Official Business. Since the Elric’s don’t have a place to stay, they’ll *Sudden Shiny Glasses* have to go with him. He pulls out… a picture of his wife and daughter. Nevermind, let the fanboying continue. Pffft, I’m loving these subtitles. [Wholesome Laughing Continues] as Hughes hugs his daughter. The daughter points… “Big Brother! Little Brother!” Ok, do I need to start keeping a count for this too? Off to supper they go, and man am I glad I made my own food before watching this, it all looks delicious. Hughes is smiling at his guests, and then… uh oh. He asks why Al’s wearing all the armor at the dinner table, suggests he take it off and relax. Um. Awkward. Edward starts claiming that he’s not “allowed” to take it off, says it’s part of his training. What, is it a secret that he’s soulbound? Later that night… [Evil Laughter] at “Central Prison”. Somebody named Kimblee is laughing that the Freezing Alchemist wants him to play sidekick. But the Crimson Alchemist works Alone! Mr. Freeze appeals to Kimblee, mentions the horrors of the Ishvalan War, the things that Bradley ordered them to do… coming from the guy who BOILED SOMEBODY (I am still not over that), my concerns about this government continue to grow. But Kimblee just laughs, says he killed people not because of “honor” or “revenge”, or anything like that. “The reason I killed all those men, was because I could. It’s that simple.” Damn, but this show’s proving great for the villain lines. Mr. Freeze leaves in disappointment… pushing over a frozen guard with the sound effect [crash and shatter]. Guh. Back at Hughes’ place, he’s having a Late Night Thought in the living room when his wife Gracie comes to ask what’s wrong. She says he’s worrying about the Elric brothers. Hughes talks about how State Alchemists are called “the dogs of the military”, not exactly popular. Being referred to like that at their young age… what made them take that path? Edward’s lying in bed staring at the camera- I mean, ceiling, when Al asks if he’s awake. He asks about Mrs. Gracie’s quiche, how it looked like their Mom’s… aw damnit, they’re orphans, aren’t they? What the heck is with anime and killing off mothers?! Heh! Hearing it was almost as good as their mother’s, Al immediately adds it to his Book Of Things To Eat Once I Get My Body Back. And then… hurk! Nope! Nopenopenope, I do not need to hear that young voice quietly say “I sure would like to get our old bodies back soon…” Right in the feels! I’ve known this kid for all of ten minutes, and already I wanna punch whoever stuck him in that armor. And aaargh Mr. Freeze is back at it, setting up hopscotch. What’s with the Transmutation Circle? I’ve gathered that (most) alchemists need one to do their stuff, but the powers I’ve seen worked from emblems on their armor or skin. What does drawing the Circle on the ground do? “One more… one more and ‘Fuhrer’ Bradley’s on his way to hell.” Yeah, I get it orchestra, probably not a Good Thing that Mr. Freeze is doing whatever this is. Intermission! Cards of Edward and Alphonse Elric. The next day, Roy’s reporting that Mr. Freeze broke into Central Prison. He orders all roads be closed, the city searched. “When you find him, shoot on sight. That is an order from the Fuhrer himself.” So much for ‘Alive or Dead’. Yes, I know he’s killed quite a few people already, but still, you’re Alchemists, right? Can’t you Alchemy some way to catch him without killing? Edward did it quickly enough… Man down! With a lot of steam coming off him, guh… and another soldier reporting five men dead. Edward remarks how it looks like a steam blast, how if water’s heated fast enough it explodes, and the human body’s 70% water… guh guh guh, Mr. Freeze is freaky. Mr. Freeze is in yet another alley, says he’s finished, when there’s a spark on the wall… he leaps back to avoid a burst of spikes. Somebody named Armstrong sounds amused that he dodged? Did… did this guy just punch through a wall? Caption [Adventure Strings]? “It is I! The Strong Arm Alchemist… Alex Louis Armstrong, in the flesh!” ...I am in love. This guy just punched through a wall, he’s got [Adventure Strings] as his theme music, the screen is shaking as he walks, and dat mustache. And… that tiny little spring of blonde hair… All Hail Armstrong! Mr. Freeze DARES to attack The Mighty Alex Louis Armstrong?! But The Mighty Armstrong dodges your feeble attack! And such a feeble foe will need far more than water to quench his fists! *EXPLOSIONS* Ohmygod there are busts of The Mighty Armstrong’s head flying out from the explosion. Yessss. Edward and Al arrive, but Mr. Freeze explodes his canteen and makes a break for it in the steamcloud. The Elrics follow The Mighty Armstrong in pursuit. Wait, it’s night now? How did Mr. Freeze manage to avoid them for so long? Anyways, he’s standing on a building, when… “It’s been a long time, Freezer.” Roy has arrived! And the Flame Alchemist has brought a bunch of guns with him. He tries to appeal to Mr. Freeze about being old ‘war buddies’, but Mr. Freeze takes offense to that, blocks a burst of flame, and then drenches the State Alchemist and soldiers before making yet another escape. Getting back to the alleyway where the last circle was made, he… … … Ok, that settles it. This is the best show ever, if only for the subtitles alone. The alleyway where The Mighty Armstrong confronted him? With lots of busts of his head still lying around, and scattered stones on the circle? Mr. Freeze started moving all of this, and the subtitle is, I kid you not, [Moving Stones and Happiness]. 10/10. Well, after that, Mr. Freeze is happy to see the circle is still intact… why is it still intact? Like, if you know that a Bad Guy is Up To Something, and is sulking around alleyways, wouldn’t you want to look for whatever they’ve been doing? And a white chalk Alchemy Circle isn’t exactly hard to spot. And seeing something used for Alchemy created by a rogue Alchemist, why would you not get rid of it? Anyways, Edward appears in the alley, and Al blocks the other end. Nowhere left for Mr. Freeze to run! “Clearly… but who’s running?” Um, what’s with the Red Glow of Evil? All the Alchemy Circles appear to have activated all over the city. Edward and Al are shocked at the scale of it, impossible unless he- “A Philosopher’s Stone!” Wait, what? Like, the Philosopher’s Stone of historical alchemy? The rock that turns base metals to gold and grant immortality? Interesting! With Alchemy being general magic in this setting, what’s their version of the Philosopher’s Stone capable of? Amplification of Alchemy to cover a city? Regardless, probably not the best idea to let him keep doing whatever he’s doing. But Mr. Freeze starts monologuing about how Edward’s a Dog of the Military, how his bosses have Sinister Plans- Edward cuts him off, says he doesn’t care and it’s Not His Problem. Um. What? Do… do you really not care if you’re actually working for Bad Guys? Al jumps in and kicks Mr. Freeze to the railing, says that they still need to stop the Alchemy. Edward asks where the Philosopher’s Stone is that’s powering it all. But… yup, they went and knocked the Waterbender right next to a canal. Brace for [wrathful water]! And Mr. Freeze rises up on the frozen wave with a [bad guy laugh]. I kid you not, these are actual captions. Things look grim… but lo! He has arrived! “Stand back and prepare for a display of Armstrong alchemy! Witness the alchemic arts passed down the Armstrong line for generations!” And then he punched the frozen wave… and redirected it into a nearby building. Um. Sorry, innocent bystanders! Whoops. Now the Ice Walls are merging on Central Command! Mr. Freeze is gonna freeze it over! The Mighty Armstrong, redeem yourself! Target the transmutation circles while the Elrics slow him down! “Fuhrer King Bradley…! For your cold-blooded (boo, that’s a terrible pun) crimes in Ishval, I condemn you to a frozen hell!” But not so fast! To [fightin’ strings music], Edward and Elric (ah, so Elcric can do Alchemy too, he’s not just muscle) jump to the frozen wave Mr. Freeze is riding. They trade blows for a bit, and then… no! Alphonse got grabbed by the helmet! And… confirmed for being soulbound, as he’s back up and fighting. Mr. Freeze is shocked- “You fools committed the ultimate taboo!” Wait what. “You attempted human transmutation, didn’t you?!” Wait WHAT. You mean to say that the Elrics are the way they are because of something they did? I was thinking they got attacked by an Alchemist or something, but it’s because they tried ‘human transmutation’?... What did they do? “Alchemy’s one and only unforgivable sin!” Flashback? A scream of “Al!”. Edward yelling and gah yup he lost a leg. A suit of armor falling over and Edward drawing a sigil in blood. Crying that his little brother was all he had left… Back to present, Edward looking down, background chanting starts up. “You know… there are some lines you really shouldn’t cross.” *braces for asskicking* Edward and Al lay the smackdown, knock Mr. Freeze to the ground. Says there’s no water for him to use… while standing maybe ten feet away from a giant iceberg, but whatever… 70% of Mr. Freeze’s body will be enough! And oh god he’s bloodbending now. “Why can’t you fools understand? I’m trying to save this country!” Dude, you’ve attacking the main keep of the city to the caption of [mad laughter]. Maybe if you stopped acting so Evil I might have more sympathy for you. NPC Soldiers are trying to blast the ice, but it keeps reforming. But here comes a drenched and ticked-off Roy! Down goes the ice, as Roy rants. Blonde lady with a case of alchemy-circle gloves complains that he’s bad enough on rainy days… so what, Colonel Roy Mustang is dead weight in a drizzle, always needs dry gloves to do his Alchemy? Interesting weakness. Mr. Freeze is stumbling through an alley, when… Fuhrer Fury. Not looking too happy. Screens gone black and white with Mr. Freeze’s blood standing out as a bright red, he laughs and transmutes a Blood Spear and charges… and Fuhrer Fury isn’t moving? Still not moving. Still not moving… he drew his sword and sidestepped? Oh. Damn. Note to self: don’t piss off <<The Flash>> Fuhrer Fury. Roy’s keeping up the blasting of the ice walls, calls out for the Major wHO BURSTS OUT OF HIS UNIFORM WITH A GLARE AND EYEBEAMS OF DETERMINATION YES. “Leave it to me! The Armstrong fists will not fail!” MANLY GLEAM, AND PUNCH THE GROUND. TAKE THAT, CHALK CIRCLE! Image of white-haired person looking down? Who dis? Edward and Al arrive in the aftermath, see Fuhrer Fury looking down at the covered form of Mr. Freeze. And back to the cheerful attitude from his talking to Roy, complimenting Fullmetal. He came out to “see if I could lend a hand”... sure, ok. Makes sense that the boss of a bunch of reality warpers would be fairly strong. He just seems happy that he’ll have an exciting story for his son. He has a son? Have we met him yet? Next day, the ever-cheerful Hughes jokes about Roy having a cold, and congratulates him for taking down Mr. Freeze. Apparently Fuhrer Fury is going around saying it was Roy who beat him? “Oh, it’s like that, huh? Suit yourself. But some friendly advice- next time a superior tells you to take credit for something you didn’t do, you might try it for once.” In the hospital, Edward and Al are talking about how they never found out about the Philosopher’s Stone. Maybe in the official report- what, flowers? WHAT. “Greetings, Edward Elric.” ARMSTRONG WHAT. “When I heard you were here in the hospital…” WHAT ARE YOU OH MY GOD DETERMINED EYES. “I DASHED RIGHT OVER!” *Edward and Al sharing my reaction* “And as I suspected, you are in desperate need of my assistance!” WHY DID YOU TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT. “You need the example of a perfect physical specimen to inspire your recovery! You see? You’re looking livelier already! Hahaha!” “Will you get out!” Scene transition to a lady in a red light, talking on a phone? “Ah… I see, so Isaac’s dead, is he? That’s a shame, I had such high hopes for him, too… But- the Philosopher’s Stone? Heh. Sounds like he overused it.” What the heck what’s with this pudgy guy with red eyes eating something, [disgusting chewing]. Wait, I recognize you from the intro. It’s the Goths! Lady tells Gluttony to eat quietly, she’s on the phone. Ah, so they’re naming themselves after the Seven Deadly Sins? Lady (who I’m making a wild guess and naming Lust) says that things are going well in Liore (hey, isn’t that where the Elrics were going to go before Mr. Freeze delayed them?), ominously says it all beings very soon as the string orchestra once again tell us that Bad Things are going down. End credits! Crayonish, drawing of Edward and Elric, taking a nap under a tree, blonde girl playing with a dog, the Elrics sparing, Edward flying past the State Alchemists until he bumps into The Mighty Armstrong, who throws him back and proves his Manly Spirit is bound by no medium. Shots of Edward talking with the blonde girl… and running off a cliff? Story? Workshop at night, blonde chick who I will now call Mechanic petting her dog and thinking. Al sitting in a dark room, Edward resting on a bed, then Earthbending and running along the pilliars with Al past the Goths (only three?), then closing a pocketwatch and the Elrics walking along a train track… and camera pans to show the Elric Kids were drawing all of this. After credits: Shot of the Blonde Kids, before the apparent botched Human Transmuation. Backstory episode? “Resembool. A quiet town.” The Elric Kids talking to a brownhaired woman in an apron. Their mother? Did… did she get caught in the Human Transmutation botch? “The place where Edward and Alphonse were born. The home they once shared with their mother.” Wait no, there’s both boys sitting at a grave. Wait. Um. Oh dear, I think I just realized. “In the hopes of returning to happier times, the boys commit the ultimate taboo, and are forced to confront the truth. Next time, on Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood- ” Episode 2: The First Day “The day they resolved their hearts to begin their journey.” Well. Initial thoughts are I am very impressed with what I’ve seen so far. Animation is smooth, humor is topnotch, and my compliments on making this setting so that I can see the episode’s Bad Guy literally boil a person, but still be very uneasy about the System that the Protagonists are working for. Definitely going to get some mileage out of this.

#wmtw #where my twin watches #ranubis #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 1

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the-pancake-writes · 7 years ago

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Snippet: Beauty and the Beast AU (puzzleshipping)

I made a post and @shiirojasmine and @atemina-rubygibb and @sonarbreezythelongearedhedgehog (and her awesome sketch) all contributed to making me write this snippet. :D

This is based on the Disney movie(s) but I still made it my own slightly perverted version because straight up copying would have been boring. ;D

I’ve been thinking about posting a snippet a month, just so your interest in my stories won’t die as long as I’m working on the brothel story (which yes, I still am doing). Plus, it’d be a good exercise for me.

Okay but now have fun. :D

A cold shiver crawled down Yugi's spine at the sight before him. He looked up at a castle of dark grey stone with reddish roofs and at least a dozen towers. The estate was shrouded in fog and enclosed by a wall that was higher than any of the forest's trees. Yugi gave the reins a tug and the horse stopped.

Right behind the black metal gate before him lay something that made him give a silent gasp. Yugi jumped off the horse, pushed the gate open and knelt down. He picked up the hat.

“Grandpa…!”, he whispered.

Yugi dropped it but the spark of hope it had ignited remained. In spite of the shakiness in his limbs he sneaked towards the entrance. The heavy oak doors screeched when he opened them.

“H-Hello…?”, he said and slowly placed one foot in front of the other. The hall was empty, only lit by a few candles on the walls. He brushed back his hood and followed the red velvet carpet. “I'm looking for my grandfather…! Has he come here…?”

Yugi flinched. Had someone whispered…? He looked around but no one was there.

Thud.

Yugi clutched his chest. Had something fallen? On the floor above? Yugi climbed the stairs, a hand on the dusty banister. As soon as he head reached the top a bell tinkled somewhere down the corridor. Yugi followed it and checked every direction. But he saw no one.

“Is someone there…?”, he said but got no answer. He passed a few doorways that were hung with brocade.

Squeak.

It came from another door that lead into a stone tower. Yugi gulped before he entered it and followed the spiral staircase. He stopped at a wooden wall shelf with a candle and two small figures. The male one was wearing purple robes while the female one was clad in blue and pink. Both were holding a staff in their hands. They reminded Yugi of drawings of magicians in one of his children's books.

A cough. Yugi recognised the voice and his heart leaped.

He hurried upstairs and found a room with six cells. Only one of them was taken and the person huddled up inside had grey hair and a beard.

“Grandpa…!”

Relief rushed through Yugi. He dashed towards the bars and knelt down. Grandpa crawled towards Yugi with wide eyes. The ashen tone of his skin gave away his sickness.

“Grandpa, what happened? No, forget it! I'll get you out of here first!”, Yugi said and inspected the hinges. But Grandpa grabbed his wrist with icy fingers.

“Yugi, you have to go! Go before he catches you too…!”

Yugi furrowed his brows.

“What are you-”

Something sharp dug into Yugi's arm and he was hurled into a corner.

“Yugi, run…!”

Yugi's heart was thudding but it stopped when he looked up. Before him stood, on all fours, a creature with dark brown fur, the size of a bear. It had sharp claws, horns, and a spiky, black mane with blond streaks and crimson tips. It bared its fangs, its blood-red eyes sending fear through Yugi's body.

“What do you think you're doing?!”, the beast said.

Yugi's jaw dropped. It could talk…! Its voice was deep as thunder and just as threatening. Yugi gulped and got into a kneeling position.

“I've come for my grandfather. I'm Yugi…who are you?”

“I'm the master of this castle. I imprisoned your grandfather for trying to steal from my game collection”, the beast said.

“I thought it was abandoned…! No one was-”, Grandpa said and coughed again. Guilt seared through Yugi's heart. He had asked his grandfather for a new game before he had left.

“Please, let us go home! He had no intentions to steal from you!”, Yugi said.

“Ignorance is no excuse for a crime!”

“Crime?! Taking from your stupid collection is a crime?!”, Yugi said but clapped his hands in front of his mouth. The beast rose to his hind legs, took a wooden chair and threw it against the wall. It broke with a loud noise that made both Yugi and Grandpa flinch.

“How would you like it if someone took the only thing you have left?!”, the beast said. Yugi had no answer.

He looked at Grandpa in the cell, his gaunt face, the rings under his eyes. If he stayed he'd die…! Yugi couldn't reason with the beast. Then maybe…

“L-Look, I wanted that game in the first place! So please…make me your prisoner in his stead!”, Yugi said and lowered his head.

“Yugi, no! I won't let you-”

“Interesting”, the beast said and moved towards Yugi on all fours. He circled him, his tail brushing Yugi. His body was shaky with the fear of being devoured by the beast any moment.

He came closer and sniffed Yugi, causing him to flinch. He moved away and landed on his back, only supported by his elbows. The beast crawled over Yugi without touching him. He sniffed Yugi's white shirt, blue vest, his neck.

“Such young flesh…how old are you?”, the beast said. Now his voice was almost a purr.

“E-Eighteen”, Yugi said. He was holding his breath in face of those crimson, piercing eyes right in front of him.

“Yes…you will do”, the beast said. Before Yugi could ask what he meant, the beast rose, smashed open the gate, and threw Grandpa into the corridor. Yugi hurried towards him but the beast grabbed his wrist and pushed Yugi into the cell. He rolled over the cold stone floor. Before he could act, the beast had already locked him up.

“Yugi…!”

The beast grabbed grandpa by the collar and dragged him out of the tower.

“Grandpa…!”, Yugi called and stretched a hand through the bars. Yugi shook them with all the energy that was left in his arms. But it was no use.

He hurried to the window hole. A little later on, he saw the beast pull Grandpa to the big gate despite him trying to fight the beast's grip. He threw Grandpa off his estate and shut the gate behind him. Grandpa was on his knees, begging the beast to give him back his grandson. But the beast ignored him and stomped back to the castle.

“Just go home, please…! You have to get well…!”, Yugi whispered and sank down to the floor, knees tucked up and arms wrapped around his shins. Trampling steps announced the beast's return and a moment later he appeared at the door frame. Yugi shot up, heat flushing through his body.

“You could at least have given him a cloak! He's so sick! Who knows if he'll make it back home alive…!”

Yugi swallowed tears of anger and desperation. He would never allow the beast to see his pain!

“That's…that's none of your concern now”, the beast said and in spite of his cruel words Yugi detected some insecurity. “I'll bring you to your own chambers. You can better prepare there.”

“For what?”, Yugi said.

“The wedding.”

The beast might as well have slapped him with a palm of ice.

“The what?!”

The beast walked up and down in front of the cell.

“You will marry me at sunset and free me from that wretched curse. You agreed to it yourself, so-”

“I agreed to being your prisoner! Nothing more”, Yugi said, fists clenched. The beast growled, eyes narrowed.

“Believe me, once the curse is lifted you can go to hell for all I care! I need only one night-”

“NO!”, Yugi yelled and covered his ears. The mere imagination made his intestines curl up. That creature – touching, undressing him, making him… “That's disgusting! I'd never give myself to…to a beast! I'd rather die!”

The beast threw himself against the bars and gave a roar that made the blood in Yugi's veins freeze. He stumbled backwards against the wall. From the beast's glare Yugi knew the beast would have torn him into shreds if they weren't separated.

“Well, fine! Then do just that!”

The beast turned around and slammed the door behind himself. Yugi didn't know how long he stared at nothing until he sank down on his knees.

The realisation of what had just happened began to feel like a rock on his shoulders. Within a few minutes he had lost Grandpa and his freedom forever. He was now the prisoner of a beast who would let him rot in the dungeon unless he agreed to marry him. It had to a horrible nightmare…!

But Yugi knew that for that the pain in his chest was too real.

He placed his palms on the cold stone tiles and watched one tear after another fall to the ground.

#snippet #beauty and the beast au #puzzleshipping fanfiction #blindshipping fanfiction #have sex to lift the curse #sounds good doesnt it lol #i'm a perv

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nerdy-nonbinary · 7 years ago

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Blue Books and Babies, Ch. 1: Yang

Ruby never had a brother.

When she was little, she snuck into the attic for the first time, when her father was trying to calm Yang down after her hair got caught on a tree branch and pulled a few strands out. She sat there, drawing crude doodles of grimm in the dust that caked every surface, before stumbling upon a stack of photo albums. She opened the first page, set with a single image, then quickly flipped through the whole book. The pictures were faded, but they showed a past her father rarely talked about. She returned to the front and studied the first photo. He looked young, with fewer wrinkles and brighter eyes, but the same blond hair and shining smile. One arm slung around a man that must have been Uncle Qrow, though he was almost unrecognizable without his patchy beard and shadows under his eyes. He looked away, annoyed at the unwanted hug from his teammate, grimacing at a woman besides him. She was tall, her spiky long hair cascading down her back with a small lock in a ponytail. She was smirking at him, as though she found his discomfort amusing. Ruby didn’t know her name, but she had the same piercing red eyes as her uncle. Maybe she was his sister? But she quickly moved on, to the one in the photograph she most wanted to see.

She was hidden, half her face obscured under her snow white cloak. Her one visible eye was closed, but Ruby could see her smile, wide, laughing at the comical actions of her teammates. She was seemed young. Happy. Real.

Ruby had learned, from a very young age, it was better to not ask too much about her mother. Mentioning her always made her dad grow distant, and it usually hurt more than it helped her learn anything. But seeing this picture filled her heart, brought back a piece she hadn’t realized was missing. Her mom was more than a tragedy.

But her attention span was short, and she quickly flipped through the other albums, coughing through dust clouds as she laughed at her parents’ high school antics. She discovered that her dad had an affinity for posing dramatically with his weapon, and the long haired woman smiled the most when Uncle Qrow was smiling the least, especially when he was wearing a skirt, which seemed to happen more than once.

Finally she reached the bottom book. It was a small, pale blue album titled “Daddy’s Little Boy”. The photos seemed more recent, although the book was barely filled. The few photos in it showed an infant with a strangely full head of blonde hair and light lavender eyes. “Like Yang,” Ruby thought. All the captions beneath the photos had been scribbled out in crayon.

“Ruby!” Her father called her name, and she dropped the book, sprinting out of the attic before her father caught her there.

“Yang,” Ruby asked her sister that night, curled up in their bed way past their bedtime. “I found a book up in the attic today.”

“Ruby,” Yang exclaimed with a tone of sarcastic scolding. “You’re not supposed to go up in the attic!”

“Yang, stop it!” The sisters giggled, shushing each other so their father wouldn’t hear. “I found bunch of books up in the attic with photos in them, and one of had some pictures of a baby that looked kinda like you. But all the words were scribbled out, and the cover said the baby was a boy. Who was that?”

There was a moment of silence. “He wasn’t real.” She said angrily. “The book was a joke. Forget about it, okay?” She turned away, her back to her sister. “Go to sleep, Ruby.”

The next day, Ruby snuck back up to the attic, but the blue book was missing. She came down to the kitchen later to see a pile of ash on floor and her father scolding Yang, who took the punishment with a self-satisfied smile. Ruby never saw the book again. But, she realized in time, she didn’t need to. She had Yang, and she wouldn’t trade her for anything.

#rwby #ruby rose #yang xiao long #trans character #trans yang #trans rwby #my own post

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bragiart · 7 years ago

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Being a hero definitely is easier

Daddy!Bakugou in da place ! READ ON AO3

Being a hero definitely is easier.

Katsuki was here, sitting on a chair, body completely limp, arms dangling in the void, his face resting on the table where today’s groceries had been abandoned. You couldn’t see his expression, and you thought for a second that he was asleep before he turned his head to see you. You repressed a laugh. God, he looked perfectly exhausted.

« You do this everyday ? » he murmured, eyes wide opened in horror.

« Everyday, » you confirmed.

It was really late when you came home that night. The neighbourhood was completely silent, the only perceptible sounds being the ones your feet made when they met the cold bitumen. Tiny puffs of hot air flew away from your mouth each time you breathed, and you nuzzled your frozen nose deeper in your large scarf, shivering a bit.

It’s been forever since you could spend a day outside your house, busy as you were with two kids in early infancy who wouldn’t even let you pee in peace.

You finally had the opportunity when your co-workers told you that your heroes’ agency was having its annual dinner paid by the boss, and that it would be great to see you again.

You hesitated first. It wasn’t like you were being an active hero since you were still in parental leave, so you felt a bit like a freeloader to join them, but they had been very persistent. Truth to be told, it felt like the last time you could enjoy an adult discussion was during your previous life. Even when your friends dropped by to see you at home, the meeting was always short-circuited by two spiky-haired tornados requesting your complete attention.

Actually, it was Katsuki who convinced you to go. He knew it’s been a while since you had time alone for yourself, and probably felt a bit guilty for not being as present as he wished to help you raising the troublemakers he made you. So when you told him about the dinner, he took the day off right away to look after the boys for you. If you were originally planning on being absent for the sole evening, your husband managed to talk you into taking the whole day outside the house. He could be great when he wanted to.

You finally arrived to your house, slightly surprised to see that some lights were still on. It was past midnight, you didn’t think someone would still be up this late. It better not be the kids. Unlocking your front door, you took your boots, cloak and scarf off, leaving everything in the doorway before heading to the kitchen, the room you saw lit from the outside. What you saw was beyond your expectations.

« You do this everyday ? » he murmured, eyes wide opened in horror.

« Everyday, » you confirmed.

You actually felt a bit proud to see how he acknowledged the toughness of your job. But boy, he really looked like if he just came back from war.

« What the hell have I done to you, » he mumbled as if he realised he inadvertently killed you or something.

« Kids, » you answered with a grin. « Hyperactive ones. »

« They never run out of energy, do they ? »

« Never. I don’t know how they do that either. But I bet they’ve been even more extra today, they must have been so happy to spend the day alone with Daddy… doesn’t happen that often. »

« They went Plus Ultra on Daddy, if you ask me… God. I feel dead. I‘ve known busy days where I arrested sixteen fuckers and went to bed less tired than that. »

« I know the feeling, » you laughed and patted his shoulder. « So… What’s all this on the table ? You’ve been staring at that carrot for how many hours now ? »

« I dunno, three, maybe four… I‘m pretty sure I can draw it from memory now… See, since the little goblins have been asking me if we could eat pizzas tonight from the very second they woke up, I followed my haunch and made them pizzas. Coz I’m a risk taker. »

« I can see that, » you smiled. « And ? »

« And they ate it all, and they liked it, and then they wanted to play a little longer and then it was bath time and then it was story time and is there really a kid on this goddamn planet who actually falls asleep at the first story ? Coz ours were just as pumped up after the sixth one. I had to kill everybody in a rush at the third page so I could just… escape. »

« No kid settle after one story, we’ve been bullshitted the whole time, » you shook your head.

« Fucking knew it. Anyway, once they finally chilled out a little, at least enough to get that no, playing Mario Kart on your DS doesn’t count as sleeping, even if you’re in the dark in your bed, I decided to clean the kitchen before passing out on the couch. And that’s when I made the biggest mistake of my whole fucking life… »

« You sat down, » you deduced in deep voice.

« And never found the strength to move again, » Katsuki confirmed. « I haven’t even done a single shit around the house like put a load on or something… »

« Don’t worry about it, Katsuki. I’m sure the kids were happy to spend the day with you and that you did great. »

Standing behind him, you started to massage his shoulders, earning a deep sigh from his lips. You smiled, fingers prodding his exposed flesh in the gentlest way.

« My poor husband, » you laughed in compassion, arms coming around his torso as you nuzzled in his neck. « It’s hard to be a housewife, huh ? »

« Fuck yes. Can’t wait to be back at work tomorrow, it’s fucking holidays compared to these two. »

« Tell me about it, I can’t wait to get back to work either… » you sighed. « Want a cup of tea ? »

« Yeah… »

He felt you nodding in the crook of his neck and kissing his cheek before heading toward the cupboard. He watched you from the corner of his eye, ash-blond strands sometimes hiding his view. He expected the day to be tiring, but not that much. It was true that you looked exhausted when he came home most of the time, but you didn’t look like a living corpse like him. To think that all your days were like this… He felt like he could sleep for the whole next week, so how you managed to wake up the next morning was beyond him right now.

« You’re going to be the fucking Terminator once you get back in action, » he said as you poured the hot water in his cup. « I think you’re getting a harder training than the Marines. »

« Sometimes I thought so too. The days where I actually manage to put them to bed for the nap and they do actually sleep I feel like I just won over the universe. Like, if someone broke into the house with a gun screaming to me to hand over my money and jewelleries, I would just look at them right in the eyes and go ‘Ha ? You think you can take on ME ? Bitch please, I just put my kids to bed and it only took me forty-five minutes’. »

« Fuck, I got you. »

Katsuki groaned loudly as he used his remaining strengths to lift his upper body from the table, sitting more properly as his hands curled around his cup.

« Hey, I didn’t even ask, how was your brats-free day ? »

« Magical, » you answered, wiping a fake tear from the corner of your eye. « For once I could go window shopping without the fear of having one of them throwing a tantrum. There was another mom whose kid was rolling on the floor for whatever reason and she looked just so… done with everything. All the others customers were looking at her and making nasty comments like ‘Well that wouldn’t happen if she raised him right’ and I was like ‘Shut the fuck up you know nothing‘. She heard it all and looked at me and asked right away ‘How many ?’ and I answered ‘Two. You ?’ and she made a face and answered ‘Four‘, and we gave each other the ‘Hang in here’ mom’s look and shook hands and the best part was that the other customers had no idea what we just talked about. »

« Tch… Childless people making comments about education, what the fuck ? Just shut your goddamn mouth, you literally have no clue what you’re talking about. »

« Yeah… But well, that was nice having the day for myself. I’m glad I could see my co-workers again, even if some spent the dinner asking me mom stuff or making me talk about the kids. I mean, I love them, you know ? They’re my kids, my bones and flesh, I’d do anything for their safety and happiness but sometimes I’m just… tired of moms’ speech. I ended up trapped between two others moms at my table and like, can we stop talking about diapers and bottles ? Even just for one minute ? Remember that we moms do exist as persons with hobbies and opinions too ? Please ? »

« Damn, I don’t get parents who never stop… parenting. Even when there are no kids around, » Katsuki frowned, emptying his cup.

« That’s not the best. One of them had the nerves to ask me if we think we’ll be empty-nesters. »

« The fuck is that ? »

« People who get really sad when their kids leave the house. »

There was a silence. A short one where the two of you just look at the other’s eyes before bursting into laughter. Katsuki’s laugh soon turned into a yawn though.

« Aw, let’s go to bed, » you said. « And don’t worry, tomorrow I’m back being the housewife and you’re free to go ! »

« Well, that’s maybe for the best. If I hear one more time the ‘Daaaaaad, Mom doesn’t do it this waaaay‘, I’m going to blow a fuse and maybe kill myself. Plus, I tried to go easy on the curses today with these two fucking parrots around, and lemme tell you it’s nerve-wracking when you find one colouring himself with felt pen to match the wall so he can become invisible. »

« Oh my… No way, » you muffled your laugh behind your hand. You could only imagine how hard it’s been for Katsuki to not swear once he found out.

« And it was after the bath. Obviously. Because it’s no fun if Dad can fix your shit right away. I was about to yell when I had this flash of a newspaper saying

‘Angry father tells his four-years old to go fuck himself, kiddo later asks mom what it means. Shit ensues’

. » You stifled your giggles the best you could in your sleeve, Katsuki’s hand coming to smack your ass as you both headed to the bedroom.

#bakugou #katsuki bakugou #reader insert #bakugou x reader #fluff #daddy!bakugou #bnha #mha #kacchan #daddy #my writing

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blankrslate07 · 7 years ago

Photo

“All my Friends are Heathens, Take it Slow~”

Hazzah! I’m finally finished with these guys! I’ve been working on them since October ^^

@doomkittypumpkin @crossroadsdimension @sugarpea7 @happy-fazzbear-ponies2 (Hope you guys don’t mind me tagging you in this)

Time for me to introduce Blank’s group of friends!

The one with blonde hair is Sol Larron, a wizard who uses souls for his magic, the one with black hair is Rue Aika, a healer with a dark family secret, the one with silver hair is Darnel Wright, a man who can bring things to life with a not so good family and lastly, the one with pink and green hair is Fia Ligado, a woman who casts flames and hunts demons, faes/fairies and ghosts for a living.

Here are their bios! Putting them under read more since it’s pretty long.

Name: Sol Larron

Sex: Male Gender: Male

Age: 26

Height: 5’2 Feet Tall

Sexuality: Bisexual, Aromantic

Appearance:

Has spiky blond hair tied into a ponytail by a white band, fair skin, and light silver eyes with a scar underneath the left one. Wears a brown dress shirt with black buttons and golden cufflinks, has a dark brown leather vest with lapels and light brown designs, over it; the golden buttons are connected to each other by chains, there are another two buttons attached to the left lapel, they too have chains connecting to the first button, brown suspender pants, a black belt with a soul container on the middle, black and gray boots, a short black cloak with a golden round clasp and light gray designs on the bottom. Around each of his wrists are two black leather straps with a soul container on each one and lastly, wears two diamond shaped obsidian earrings.

History:

Was originally born in a poor family of Soul Magic Users; Soul Magic Users weren’t very well liked due to their ability of using souls of nearly any living being to enhance their spells. Since they were poor and couldn’t support him, they decided to put him up for adoption when he was just 3 months old.

Sol was then adopted by a gay couple. During the first 10 years of his life with them, it was pretty great until they started to distance themselves from him due to their type of work, which is Assassins since they are Blood Magic Users. Sol did not know about this and grew resentful of them.

He discovered his magical abilities when he had accidentally (Or maybe not) killed his pet hamster. Its soul swirled around his hands much to his amazement and started to learn more about his powers and ancestry.

Personality:

Sol is a rather aggressive and hostile person. He has a short temper which is easily set off if you insult him about his height, isn’t very much of a people person as well, usually acting rude to them unless he knows that they are in a much higher position and power than him. While if you were to actually befriend him, he’ll be a bit nicer to you.

He can be harsh and blunt of the way he speaks, wanting to say the painful truth instead of a lie. If a person’s life is always told with lies just to keep them from being hurt, how would they learn?

As a Soul Magic User, he tends to be insensitive and ruthless as well like his ancestors before him. Since he needs souls to enhance the power of his spells, he would go “Hunting” for some. When he killed his hamster and got its soul, he didn’t felt all that horrified or disturbed. Eventually, he went on to killing humans for their souls and mostly the ones that are criminals, since not many would miss them and murders of civilians would draw too much attention but has killed some due to either witnessing him kill a criminal or just because he really needs to replete his soul containers if he ever runs out. He tends to be wary of others and when startled, he would most likely attack you with a magical blast; this behaviour is due to his “Hunts”. They have made him wary and tense nearly all the time now since he had to be aware of his surroundings when he was hunting down souls.

While he does find Blank annoying sometimes, he does consider her a great friend since she was the first person to discover his Soul Magic and caught him in the act of killing someone yet wasn’t horrified and instead interested. Sol also feels the same way with Fai, Rue and Darnel.

He has a secret room where he keeps other souls he had collected in and try out spells, since it can get loud when he does that, he would play VERY loud heavy metal music so his parents would not hear and place ear muffs so the music would not distract him. He actually dislikes the music and prefers J-Pop and K-Pop more, he considers it an embarrassing secret of his and keeps his collection of it in a tight and secured place.

Abilities/Powers:

.Magical Capabilities: Is able to cast spells ranging from powerful blasts, cause a ring of fire or even knock someone to sleep. However, there are some spells that require him to chant, a lot of them are hard to pronounce so it may take him a few tries since he needs to pronounce it correctly for them to work.

. Soul Magic: Is capable of collecting souls to enhance the power of his spells. Also has some spells made by him involving the use of souls alone, but it depends on the number of souls. Like a spell to look into 5 minutes into the future, it would require around 50 souls, a spell to teleport: 6, and an additional six for any passengers, can look into a soul to see who are their relatives, etc. Still has much to learn though.

Heightened Senses: His senses are far better than most because of years of hunting.

Weaknesses:

. Gagging his mouth is a good way to prevent him from casting most of his spells.

. Taking away his wand wouldn’t do much since he could still use his hands to fire spell, however he will have trouble directing his spells the right way.

. Rue’s Gloves would be capable of preventing him from casting spells.

Name: Rue Aika

Sex: Female Gender: Female

Age: 24

Height: 5’5 Feet Tall

Sexuality: Pansexual, Panromantic

Appearance:

Has black curly and fluffy looking hair with neatly cut bangs, pale skin, and yellow eyes. She wears white overalls with yellow linings, a yellow box with a white flower on the middle design, ruffles on the bottom, a red ribbon wrapped around her waist and yellow circles on the straps. Underneath her overalls was a yellow shirt with a white collar, and gray ruffles on both the collar and the sleeves. On her head was a black headband with cat ears and white flowers on both sides and bottom of the cat ears, wore long white and silver gloves that hides her markings and scars on her biceps, and lastly had black doll shoes with white socks that reached above her knees.

History:

Rue was born in a family of great healers. Her family had a secret though. In the ancient times, her family once had the ability to manipulate time but has long since become diluted throughout the years. There have only been two other people known to be born with it. One was her great great grandfather; he had the ability to perceive ones past.

The second one was the most memorable....Her aunt, who had the ability to age things. However, she did not use these powers for good, she used them for her own purposes and caused much crime and death with it until she was finally captured and died by lethal injection.

Both of them had yellow eyes, exactly like hers. So when her parents saw she was born with those eyes, it was a sign that she had the rare power of her family, causing both of her parents to become shock and horrified. Unlike her aunt, Rue was born with the power to make things younger. Her parents kept a very close eye on her, afraid that she might become like her late aunt.

It was until she was but 10 when she was happily playing with the family pet, but when she was going to pet it, it suddenly disappeared when she touched it. It was there and then the true extents of her powers were revealed, her powers can rewind a thing’s or being’s time to the point before they even existed.

Her parents were now more horrified and decided to take action. Her mother made special gloves that would contain her time powers and kept telling her over and over again that she should never remove these gloves for her powers were far too dangerous to be free.

Personality:

Rue is a kind woman who can be a little shy. She will treat strangers with friendliness but dislikes it if they are too overly familiar with her or rude. If you were to startle her, she’d be a little shy but will get over it albeit she’ll be wary of you now without showing it.

She is also a patient woman, having to deal with her cousins whenever they came to visit and her friends that have violent tendency. But it wouldn’t be nice to test her limits, anger her enough and she might just threaten to erase you from existence. Her wrath even scares her friends sometimes. Swearing is no problem with her and tends to do it when frustrated or in a bad situation.

Isn’t the most social in the group because of the fear she has for her powers. After years and years of her parents constantly telling her that her powers are a danger to others, Rue has grown to fear them incredibly and would instantly panic of her gloves were removed by someone other than her. Emotions can cause a reaction from her powers, so panicking or becoming angry would make them lose control. Before, she was much shyer and often avoids others or even stays inside her house for months because of her powers. When her friends came into her life, they gave her more courage and confidence, making her more social and willing to talk with others now. Though when she discovered some of them have killed and still do, she was of course horrified but didn’t want to report them since they are her friends. Eventually, she got used to it and now would get irritated when they chose murder when the option of talking it out is available.

However in a point of time before her friends came, her fear over her time powers got so bad that she tried to cut her own arms off. While she did succeed in doing so, her powers, both healing and time, reacted to it quickly and regenerated her arms without her consent, leaving two scars on where the cuts used to be.

Even though it doesn’t look like it, but Rue finds most monsters attractive. Not too monstrous but not too human as well. Because of this, she is often teased about it by her friends, much to her embarrassment and annoyance. It’s most likely she’ll have a monster lover in the future. Has a love for plants, especially flowers since her parents run a flower shop.

Abilities/Powers:

Healing: Is capable of healing others if she touches them or if they touch her. She is able to heal bruises, wounds, sicknesses, amputated fingers and even poisoning. However, she is only capable of healing those made of flesh, beings made from things such as metal, wood, etc. Would have no effect, and she can only cure sicknesses and poisoning if they the person isn’t close to death. While she may not be able to regenerate limbs, she can heal them enough to stop the blood loss.

Time Reversal: Has the power to reverse the state of a being to the point before they were even born. But due to lack of practice and fear of this power, it tends to lose control. If she were to practice this more, she’d be able to reverse either the physical form, mentality or even the state of time a being is in.

High-Speed Regeneration: This will only apply to her arms. It’s kind of a mixture of both her time and healing powers, if any amputation will occur, then they will regenerate back immediately while leaving a scar where the amputation was. For now, it happens automatically and she has no control over it.

Weaknesses:

. Isn’t the most physically the strongest, so overpowering her physically should do the trick.

. Her gloves contain her time powers, keeping them on her would best move to do. They are made out of a very strong fabric with a spell that could contain most abilities, as long as they manifest through the hands.

. Beings that have control over time itself would not be affected by her Time Reversal powers.

Name: Fia Ligado

Sex: Female Gender: Female

Age: 29

Height: 6’1 Feet Tall

Sexuality: Bisexual, Demiromantic

Appearance:

Has black skin with scars on her limbs and back, sea foam green irises with pastel pink pupils shaped as four pointed stars, and dyed sea foam green and pastel pink hair that looked very fluffy. Wears a white sleeveless turtleneck with silver accents underneath a silver jacket with black hems, flame designs on the bottom and pink diamond shaped pins were pinned on her lapels and attached to silver gray buttons by a strap of black leather; one of her sleeves is rolled up and reveals the scars on her arm, around her waist was a white belt with a metal buckle, deep green pants, and silver pointed shoes. Her accessories were a necklace with a metal cross pendant and pink circular earrings.

History: She was born in a wealthy family. Fia got her fire powers and eyes from her mother’s side of the family. Things were going great until her parents died in a car crash, thus leaving her in the care of the many workers in the mansion but mainly two demonic beings that are bound to her thanks to her parents as a safety precaution in case both of them died. The two demons are not able to hurt her physically and mentally and must protect her if she was in danger within their sight.

However, the two aren’t very fond of the girl, they in fact hate her and really hate that they can’t hurt her, but it never said they can’t hurt her Emotionally right?

Fia in the other hand was ignorant about this and became attached to them; eventually she caught on to the hurtful words but laughs them off as joke and is in denial about them disliking her. She then started to play as bait for them to lure unsuspecting and unfortunate people to her guardians clutches.

Personality:

Is deemed as the Cool and Hot one due to how calm she can remain in most situations and that her appearance tends to attract a lot of attention. However, if the situation involved personal matters, then she’ll take it much more seriously, especially if it involved her two guardians. Her cool composure would start to crack if it was a personal situation and she was failing it.

Her cool and confident composure along with her unique looks tends to catch many peoples’ attentions. She likes having people around her; it gets boring and unnerving when it’s all silent. The servants back at her home didn’t really give mind to her and do what they just do silently, this only started to bother her when her parents died. Whenever there’s nobody around and it’s all quiet, she’d either hear music through her phone, watch some videos, hum to herself or leave.

While at first meeting, she does seem friendly, but remember that she was raised by a pair of demons who are quite sadistic. Fia can become cruel and brutal when needed to be, especially if you manage to provoke her. If you do so, you’ll be burnt slowly and painfully. She isn’t at all bothered by killing since her guardians do it a lot of times due to their nature. It rubbed off a bit on her so she’ll sometimes get excited when hunting down pray. It’s easy for her to manipulate others, mostly the gullible and nice ones.

Her skills in hunting demons, faes and ghosts came in when her guardians started to teach it to her so she’d be able to defend herself better. Whenever she’s out in a hunt, she’d be sure to bring the necessary equipment to defend herself. Such holy water (Either taken from a church or tricked a priest into giving it to her), weapons that have holy symbols etched on them, iron objects and salt. Sometimes she’d take bounty missions for these three species to gain some extra cash.

Despite of how her guardians treat her, Fia is extremely loyal to them. She may like to annoy them from time to time, but loves nothing more to impress them, going as far as acting as bait for them when they wanted a new plaything. The reason why she’s so loyal to them is because when her parents died, her guardians were the closest to being parental substitutes since all of the servants in the house were always emotionless to her. When they would make hurtful comments and freely say that they hate her, she’d freeze before laughing it off and telling to herself that it was a joke.

She finds her friends an exciting bunch, especially Blank. They get along the best since they are kind of similar in a way and sometimes hunt together. Fia cherishes them since she also considers them family and would protect them. Maybe even from her guardians.

Abilities/Powers:

Fire Manipulation: Has the power to conjure up powerful flames, just enough to melt thick walls of metal. Can use this to glide over gaps but not fly, turn the bottom of the ground underneath her to lava and if she were to concentrate just enough, she’d be able to create swords and other weapons out of her flames.

Demon Sensing: Due to living with demons and hunting them for most of her life, she is now able to sense them quickly if they were near her. It would be a little harder if they’re possessing someone though.

Hunting Skills: Fia has been hunting demons, faes and ghosts ever since she was 16. Her knowledge expands even more when she met Blank, leading to her to discover other kinds of demons/faes/ghosts with different weaknesses. Is capable of killing, banishing and even binding a demon temporarily to her (It depends on how powerful said demon is), uses iron for traditional faes and sometimes uses a certain type of crystal and spell to trap them, and finally uses salt, anti ghost technology or spells that she is capable of performing on ghosts.

Weaknesses:

. Water is the opposite element to fire, so using it would be a good thing to counterattack her fire manipulation.

. Rue’s Gloves would be able to cancel out her fire abilities, but only on her arms. Other body parts not included.

Name: Darnel Wright

Sex: Male Gender: Male

Age: 27

Height: 6’0 Feet Tall

Sexuality: Asexual, Demiromantic

Appearance:

Has a short messy silver hair, pale skin and his sclera is light red, irises are red and his pupils are colored dark purple. Wears a light royal blue sweater that hides his muscles, and black pants tucked underneath blue gray boots.

History:

Is an accidental child born from a short lived affair; his father left his mother when he found out about the pregnancy. This made her grow resentful of her unborn child. When Darnel was born, she treated him more of a servant than her child. His uncles, aunts and cousins that live with him treated him the same way, though his step father didn’t and treated him like his actual son. However, his step father died in an accident when he was fourteen leaving him in the care of his family, who only continued to treat him badly because of his parentage and that he had inherited his father’s eyes and ability to bring things to life while the rest of the family had the simple ability of telekinesis.

Personality:

Due to the treatment his family gives him, he is terrible shy and nervous when meeting people. He doesn’t like to stand out too much since his family would insult him if he does. His family pretty much criticize everything about him, from the way he looks to the way he talks. This made him a bit of a perfectionist as well.

Darnel doesn’t go out very often, mostly to buy something he is ordered to do or tend to the gardens. When he does interact with people, he is would be very nervous and stutter a lot. He likes people who are nice but not overly happy ones since those types of people make him uncomfortable. If he were in some sort of cafe or restaurant, he’ll probably be seated on the farthest table or the one closest to the exit. He generally prefers to seat alone but would allow someone to seat with him just as so long they don’t make him uncomfortable.

He’s less nervous around his friends though, and happier as well. The reason why is because they’re one of the few people who are nice to him. He loved his step father dearly while he felt nothing for his biological father. Was once close to one of his cousins before until he brought their pet back to life, it was supposed to cheer them up but ended up scaring them and made them hate/fear him instead.

The pet is still with him and kept in his room. Darnel keeps a lot of stuff in his room and sometimes brings them to life as well, only when he feels lonely though. Most of the items are made by him. He is skilled in making small things such as wooden dolls, glass figurines, etc. He does have a severed hand from the time he first met his friend. He kept it when he accidentally brought it to life and keeps it in a mini refrigerator in his room along with the pet whenever their temporary life spans are up.

Has a love and talent for driving/car racing. He got it from his father who would tell him all about the races he had been before he died. Rarely, Darnel would sneak out of the house and participate in car races; he keeps a car in a cabin in the woods not far from house. Thanks to his step father constantly talking about cars before, he knows how to fix a car as well.

When he first met his friends, he was pretty shocked and horrified to find out that some of them have killed and still are like how Rue reacted. He was tempted to tell on them but decided not to since they are his friends/people who actually like him. Darnel eventually got used to it but is still gets squeamish at the sight of intense gore and tries to avoid it as much as he can.

Abilities/Powers:

Life Giving: Is able to bring inanimate things to life. They sometimes act as zombies and would only listen to his commands. The larger the item is, the more energy he needs to bring it to life. If it was a doll of some sort, it wouldn’t drain him at all, but if it was a small house then he’d faint and be asleep for three days. This ability can also be applied to corpses. It doesn’t last forever though. In normal circumstances, it would only last up to five hours, but if Darnel were to add a bit more energy, it can last up to a whole day in max.

Weaknesses:

. Binding his hands together with energy cuffs or something living would be a good way to prevent him from using his powers.

. If you are nice to him, then you’d be able to gain his trust making him more vulnerable for a surprise attack.

. Cannot bring curse objects, and objects that contain a soul or a piece of it, to life.

#original art #Original Ideas #original character #my art #my designs #Sol Larron #Sol #Rue Aika #Rue #Fia Ligado #Fia #Darnel Wright #Darnel

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nozocentric · 4 years ago

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Nozomi: Prologue

The End of the Kubota Clan

“Keep looking, I know I saw that monster!”

Nozomi glanced up as distant shouting reached her ears and inhaled sharply as a trio of teenage boys appeared. Kohaku, the redhead and self designated leader, along with the identical twins Ichirou and Noburu, who could only be told apart by their eyes (Ichirou’s were green and Noburu’s a deep blue).

Nozomi knew the three of them more than she'd like to admit, having spent many an outing on the run from them. She tried to hide but her efforts were futile. Kohaku had already spotted her, and he wasted no time pointing her out to his friends. “There she is! ”

Her gold eyes grew large with fear as the rowdy gang raced toward her, and she snatched up the bag containing her purchase hurriedly. “Please! Just leave me alone!” She cried, turning on her heel and bolting as the three boys gave chase.

‘What was Kaa-san thinking, sending me out when it’s still this bright out?’

The brunette took one turn after another, trying to lose them, and a ray of hope surged through her as the scrape of sandals behind her grew fainter. Heaving a sigh of relief, she turned another corner, only to find herself staring at a wall and she cursed her luck.

“Dead end.”

Shadows fell over her, and the brunette glanced back to see Kohaku and the twins stalking toward her, leering menacingly.

Her brain screamed for her to do something, and in a moment of desperation she leapt up, scrambling to find a hold in the wall. ‘Please!’ As she silently begged Kami for help, she gripped onto a groove in the wall, and she began to climb carefully, drawing nearer to the top.

Her joy was short lived as a sharp pain shot through her spine. “You won’t escape!”

The brunette cried out in pain as she glanced down, where Ichirou had grabbed her tail and was trying to pull her down. “Let me go!”

Reaching the top, Nozomi grabbed the edge of the wall with both hands and tried to pull herself up. Luck wasn’t on her side, it turned out, as the other boys joined in, and the three of them gave a firm tug. “I told you we weren’t letting you get away, didn’t I? Not until you pay!”

The brunette grit her teeth as her chin scraped against the wall, drawing blood and she landed in a heap on the ground at their feet. “Ha! How unlucky. A cat that can’t evenclimb!”

Nozomi glared up at them, her canines glinting dangerously in the light. “I was doing FINE until you pulled me down!”

“Don’t you dare show your fangs, demon!” Noburu pushed her head into the ground with his foot, and she grunted under the pressure.

“Stop it! That hurts!”

“That’s the point, stupid!”

Nozomi’s arm thrust out in desperation, and Noburu yelled in pain as her claws grazed his shin, leaving five thin, red lines on his skin.

‘I didn’t mean to do that...but he deserved it.’ Scrambling back to her feet, the brunette glanced around, her eyes filled with fear. She may have gotten free, but unless something happened to distract her captors, there was no way she’d escape them all.

“Make her pay, Kohaku!”

Their leader stepped forward cracking his knuckles, hatred burning in his auburn eyes. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, attacking my friend! You’re really gonna get it now.”

Nozomi pressed into the wall, praying in vain that by some miracle she could disappear into it, though she knew it was only wishful thinking. There was only one thing she could do, and as much as the brunette hated the idea, if it could spare her any pain she would.

Bowing her head, she pinned her ears back submissively. “Please, Kohaku-san. I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt your friend… Honest.”

Kohaku and the twins laughed harshly in response, and her vision clouded over with tears. “Nice try, but the word of a monster is worthless!”

A tear slid down Nozomi’s cheek as his words sunk in and she raised her head, the hurt plain on her face. “But I’m not a monster..”

Her words were soft, but she knew they’d been heard because Kohaku’s fist paused. “As long as you house that demon that makes you one!” Kohaku’s fist slammed into her gut, effectively knocking the wind out of her, and she gasped with pain, struggling to stay standing.

“You’re going to be feeling a lot worse by the time we’re finished with you, demon!” Noburu snarled as he and Ichirou joined in; Ichirou punched her in the chest while Noburu socked her left eye, and her vision blurred as she crumbled to the ground, crying in pain.

'I...can barely see. Are they going to kill me?’

As Nozomi braced herself, resigned to her fate, she heard a voice call out her name, and she forced her eyes open painfully. A gasp escaped her as she saw a boy with dirty blond spiked hair...three of them. One for each attacker. “Suoh-kun?!”

The spiky haired boy grit his teeth as he held Kohaku back. “Nozomi-chan. My clones won't last long. Go, now!” He glanced over his shoulder, grey eyes conveying his urgency and Nozomi’s eyes teared up again as she nodded.

“Thank you.” Gathering up her spilled belongings, the brunette carefully weaved her way out of the alley and took off running as hard and as fast as she could.

The wind whipped her eyes, making them tear up and she grimaced, knowing she’d likely have a black eye- it was already beginning to swell. Though it could’ve been a lot worse, she reminded herself. 'Bless you, Suoh-kun. I owe you one for coming to my rescue…’

The brunette nearly cried out with relief when her home came into view, and she raced to the door, barging inside and shutting it behind her, as if afraid that her tormentors were behind her. Safe at last, Nozomi leaned forward, hands on her knees as she caught her breath.

“I’m home.” She choked out, still too winded to speak and she grimaced. No matter what, it was always like this anytime she went out. It was just a part of being the clan’s jinchuuriki. Her parents had explained this when she was younger, adding that no matter who she was they loved her, and that had soothed the sobbing child. Now she was 12, and convinced that couldn’t be all it was. Surely the clan couldn’t harbor so much ill will toward her over something she’d had no control over to begin with. There had to be another reason!

Sighing, Nozomi kicked off her shoes and took off her cloak, hanging it up as she made her way into the living room. “Kaa-san? Tou-san? I’m home-”

Her voice broke off and she dropped her bag. A strangled cry escaped her as she spotted both her parents on the floor, lying in a pool of their own blood. “No! This can’t be-- it’s not real!”

The brunette knelt beside her mother’s body, fighting back her tears as she looked at her face. Her warm, chocolate brown eyes were dull and lifeless, seeming to pierce right through her, and her mouth hung open, as if stuck in an eternal scream.

“Kaa-san...Tou-san…” As much as she wanted this to be a nightmare, it became glaringly clear that it was real, and her disbelief melted into anguish as she screamed. “Who DID this to you?!”

Slowly she rose to her feet and backed away, deeply unsettled by her parents’ blank stares. ‘Why did I ever go out?! I should have been here! I left them here to die!’

A deep, velvety voice in her mind reminded her that she was only a useless child, and would’ve burdened the adults, but Nozomi ignored it, unable to tear her eyes from the gruesome scene. She gagged as the smell of death and blood invaded her nose and fled the room, only stopping to put on her shoes and grab her cloak before thrusting the door open and taking off.

Her sandals scraped loudly against the ground, but Nozomi could care less. She was too numb to even worry about attracting attention to herself right now. All she could think about was the fact that her parents were both gone, and she was completely alone. The image of her family, soaked in their blood as they stared up lifelessly at her haunted her, and she shook her head to clear the mental image. ‘I don’t want to remember them that way!’

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, and she squinted as it became harder to see. ‘What am I going to do?!’

After a few minutes of prolonged running, Nozomi’s legs were ready to give out, and she turned down an alley. Her cloak enabled her to blend in perfectly with its shadows, and she hunched over, panting hard as tears streamed down her face of their own accord.

Her ears rotated back at the sudden sound of footsteps behind her, but before she could run, a heavy weight slammed into her from behind, sending her face first into the dirt.

“I’ve finally found you.”

A chill ran up Nozomi’s spine at the voice she easily recognized, and she lifted her face from the ground, glancing back. “Wh-why? What are you..?” She broke off, crying out in pain as the boy who’d rescued her earlier suddenly jerked her arm backward, forcing her up on her knees. “Suoh-kun, you’re hurting me!”

Ignoring the girl’s cries, he roughly turned her to face him. His face was void of emotion as he pulled out a thick, black ribbon with a medium sized bell attached at its center.

“What’s that for..?”

Suoh smirked at the question, pushing the hood of her cloak down before he leaned in and wound the ribbon around her neck, tying it almost tight enough to choke her.

“The elders have decided that your ability to hide in the shadows is a danger to us all. Not knowing where you are makes the clan uneasy since you could just attack at any moment. This bell will put an end to those fears.”

The brunette just nodded weakly, sobbing as she gazed up at him with tear stained cheeks, struggling to form a coherent sentence. “M-my parents. They’re…” Unable to finish, her ears pressed flat as her shoulders shook violently, and she slowly got up from the ground, wiping her tears. “Why did they have to die like that?! I just don’t understand!”

An unreadable look flashed across Suoh’s features before he smirked, and suddenly Nozomi found herself pinned to the wall by him, her hands restrained above her head. “Well then, I’ll make you understand.”

Nozomi’s face fell as she began to put two and two together, and her heart clenched painfully as she looked at him, stunned. “You-you were in on this?!”

Suoh’s facial expression morphed into a cruel grin as he nodded. “I knew it was going to happen a long time ago, actually. If your parents had just complied with the clan’s wishes, this whole mess would have been avoided. See, the elders are not happy with you, Nozomi-chan. Your demonic powers are growing too strong, so they wanted to extract that monster out of you and put it in a younger host.”

Nozomi’s eyes narrowed, her tears slowing as she glared up at the boy. “So my parents had to die in order for such a thing to happen?! They couldn’t have been spared?!”

“They were always getting in the way, doing everything they could to keep you away from the clan. Finally the elders had enough and decided to have them eliminated.” He paused, letting his harsh words sink in before adding, “From what I’ve seen you weren’t allowed outside unless it was night. Didn’t you think it was odd they’d send you out in broad daylight? They KNEW what was coming, and tried to protect you one last time!”

Nozomi narrowed her eyes at the boy, feeling another painful throb in her chest as another piece of her heart was trampled on and she inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself. “So then if you knew all this time….why did you even bother helping me earlier?!”

To her surprise, Suoh’s eyes softened and a hand came to rest on her cheek. He leaned in close, and the brunette’s eyes widened as he whispered in her ear. “All part of the plan, sweetheart.”

“What?!” The brunette shot him a bewildered look, trying to calm her heart. She knew now that it was wrong, but the truth stood that she’d found him attractive, and having him so close so suddenly had really freaked her out.

The boy smirked as he saw the emotions in her eyes and stroked her jaw gently, whispering again. “It’s true. They told me to get close to you, and get you to let your guard down.”

Pain etched itself into Nozomi’s face as she realized she’d been betrayed, and she felt as if a knife were in her chest, carving out what remained of her heart.

“It took forever, but now that this whole thing is finally over I can tell you how I really feel about you.”. His face twisted into a sneer as he leaned in again. “I hate you.”

Before Nozomi could even react, he backhanded her across the face and thrust her onto the ground. Then he kicked her, again and again, and she covered her face with her arms, whimpering brokenly as he threw rocks at her. When the assaults came to a stop, she uncovered her face cautiously, and Suoh's fist slammed into her cheek as he pounded her mercilessly.

Throughout the entire thing, the brunette just stared up at him, as the truth of everything he’d just said came crashing down upon her, numbing her to his assaults. Suoh kept going until the girl was barely conscious, and he stepped back, staring down at her coldly. Nozomi was nearly unrecognizable; not only was her face swollen, she now sported two black eyes, and was bleeding from both her nose and mouth.

A heavy silence hung over them for a moment before he spoke, grinning maliciously. “Your parents’ death is all your fault. None of this would have happened if it weren't for you.” He paused, watching the pain flit through her damaged face, laughing. “Don’t worry, though. The elders are preparing for your demon’s extraction as we speak; you’ll be joining your parents very soon.”

Something inside of Nozomi snapped at his words, and her eyes dilated as she let out a roar neither of them knew she was capable of. “And you guys call ME a monster?!” She began to tremble as purple chakra bubbled out of her body, and Suoh stepped away, looking nervous as it completely engulfed her. Suddenly, she vanished in an explosion of smoke that knocked Suoh into the wall. Covering his mouth, he squinted as the smoke dissipated and cried out in shock as two glowing, red orbs peered down at him. “Th-this can’t be--”

The massive blackish purple cat gave a devious smile that showed off its long, jagged fangs before proceeding to level the buildings around them with one swipe of its powerful forelegs.

In the midst of the chaos, Suoh began to sneak away, but no amount of dust could hide him from the demon’s eyes. “Don’t think you can hide from me.” Slowly her tail wound around the boy, squeezing tight as she lifted him off the ground, and he barely had time to shout for help before she tossed him high into the sky as if he were merely a toy.

“It’s Kumoraku! She’s loose!”

Her attention was taken off her prize in the sky as other clan members had been alerted to her presence, and began attacking her.

“You really think you are enough to stop ME?” Kumoraku smirked devilishly as she flung them into the buildings until their bodies were too broken to move. The less fortunate were stabbed by her long claws, or crushed under her paws.

A yowl of pain tore through her as one of the villagers shoved a long blade into her paw and she scowled at the aforementioned person, shoving him away as she continued her rampage.

The Kubota clan fought bravely, but they were no match for the demon cat, and in moments the entire village had been reduced to rubble, burying the remains of those who’d dared stand in her way.

Looking over the destruction she caused, Kumoraku smirked and sat back on her haunches, running her rough tongue over the more serious injuries she’d sustained. “Well, that’s enough for one day.”

In another puff of smoke, the cat had vanished, leaving a barely conscious Nozomi laying in her place. Slowly she got to her feet, her eyes widening at the sight before her. “What...what happened…?”

Even though she already knew the answer, the brunette hurried through the ruins, searching for any survivors, but as she’d expected, there were none. Tears filled her eyes again as she surveyed the damage, horror on her face.

“I..I did all of this..?” The brunette dropped to her knees, staring in disbelief at the ruins she’d once called home.

She hadn’t really expected an answer, but the voice of Kumoraku graced her with one, purring with satisfaction. “Who else but a monster is capable of such destruction?”

“..A-and Suoh-kun..?”

“That pretty boy? He made a great toy.” Kumoraku purred again, sounding quite satisfied and Nozomi’s heart clenched.

“What about-”

“They're all gone, brat. Just shut up and be grateful. I did you a favor.”

‘Even if Suoh-kun DID lie to me...he didn’t deserve to die..none of them did.’ Guilt clawed at her heart as she realized maybe she was the monster she’d been called all her life, and the brunette pulled her cloak’s hood over her ears before turning away from the ruins. “I’m so sorry, everyone...please, forgive me.”

Without another glance back, Nozomi turned on her heel and took off running, even though she had no idea where she’d end up. Anywhere was better than here.

#Naruto OC fanfiction #NozomiKubota #non-tailed beast jinchuuriki #shadow cat demon #Kumoraku #fanfiction prologue #NarutoxOC fanfiction

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