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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 4 years ago

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The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 10

A/N: I can’t believe I’m already on part 10 for this series and to be honest it’s fun to write. And in all seriousness, the tumblr mobile app needs to allow you to put a read more link. But anyways love you all and let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! Mwah! 🖤🖤🖤

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, some violence, and blood

“Im sorry, did you just say Madripoor?” You blinked at Zemo, dreading the destination ahead of you.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it’s Skull Island.” Sam questioned, looking between you and Zemo.

“Imagine Mos Eisley from Tatooine but without the aliens and blasters.” You tried to make an analogy. “In other words, a shithole. And to be honest, I’d rather be in Mos Eisley.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” Bucky explained to Sam.

“It’s kept its lawless ways.” Zemo added before turning to James. “But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

You had a feeling Zemo would suggest all of you going in with different identities, and being the only woman in the group, you already had a wild guess you weren’t going to be ecstatic about yours. You looked to Bucky with a frown on your lips. You knew what Zemo had meant towards him, and you didn’t know how it would affect him to transition back into the person he tried so hard to deviate from. Bucky saw the sympathetic smile you gave him, and he returned it with a look that reassured you that he would be fine.

“Y/n.” Zemo now spoke to you, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “I’m sure you are aware of the conditions.”

“Zemo if you...” Bucky trailed off as he glared at him, silently warning him to watch what he says next.

Sam and Bucky kept their eyes on Zemo, waiting to hear what his suggested persona for you was and ready to beat his ass if he dared to suggest something that would be demeaning to you.

“No way in the pits of Tartarus. I am not going in as an escort.” You voiced with a clenched jaw. “And if it’s eye candy you need, you have Sam.”

Sam gave you a surprised look from your comment, flattered to have you recommend him to be the designated eye candy before going back to the topic at hand. “Hell no Zemo. You’re not having y/n pretend to be an escort.”

“I’m afraid Sam is already going as someone.” Zemo sat back with his hands folded in his lap. “And don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on having you go as an escort, it isn’t befitting of a baron like me. Plus, I figured it would be uncomfortable for you, so I was going to suggest you act as my fiancé, if you are willing of course.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering on the subject. You were a bit relieved in all honesty. But to pretend to be Zemo’s fiancé and be in close and almost physical proximities with him?

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to y/n.” Sam uttered to you.

“I’ll do it.” You confirmed.

“Are you sure?” Zemo asked you again, making sure you were comfortable with acting the part.

“I thought Zemo might step out of line with this one, but we don’t want you to do something that will make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure. I’ve had to do things I wasn’t comfortable with plenty of times in the past.”

Once you had all landed, Zemo decided to stop by a place so that you all may get dressed. You had already packed a dress and a pair of heels with you just in case for situations like these, since this wasn’t the first time you had to dress up for a mission. The dress you wore was a black, burned velvet silk slip-like dress with the velvet print being dark red roses. The dress wasn’t too tight to be constricting of movement and fit perfectly around around your curves. If the situation should arise that you needed to defend yourself, you needed the freedom to be able to move. Going down, the fabric flared slightly at your hips, brushing barely against the floor with your heels on. The skirt was slightly sheer from the bottom of your thighs and down with the floral velvet print, and had a slit going up your right thigh, perfect for kicking and concealing your dagger. The top torso portion of the front of your dress was a spaghetti strap cowl neckline that stopped just above the curve of your breasts, allowing for just a bit of cleavage. Your back was left bare, stopping at your mid back with thin straps that came across in a pattern. Your dress almost had a Grecian/witchy look from the way it draped over your chest and hips. It wasn’t too formal or too scandalous, it was elegant and classy, and showed just the right amount of skin where it wouldn’t be too revealing.

Even though you completely loathed and detested heels of any kinds, your heels were fairly simple, made of black velvet with straps that came across your ankles and toes. You dreaded heaving to wear them but at the same time you’d stick out like a sore thumb if you wore your docs with these. Perhaps you should’ve brought your nicer sandals, but it was too late now. You kept on your mother’s necklace and wore a set of amethyst drop earrings, throwing on a silver cuff bracelet on each wrist. Your hair was let loose to conceal your short sword that you hid on your back underneath your dress, the hilt resting right between your shoulder blades. You prayed that having your hair down would cover the scars and the sword you had on your back. But you were mostly focused about the scars, you failed to mention them to the guys about it since it was something that was hard for you to share. The only makeup you had on was some eyeshadow and mascara to darken your eyes, very little blush, and a lip tint.

The last thing to do was to put on some perfume, so you spritzed on your favorite oil based one that you had from Olympus on your pulse points. The scent was filled with incense-like scents like dragon’s blood, sage, crushed red roses, sandalwood, ghostly white musk, absinthe, almonds, and heady gardenia. It wasn’t as harsh as the common alcohol based ones, this one was more earthy and ancient, and every time you wore it, the scent lingered and heads turned. You gave yourself a once over when you were done, taking in a deep breath before heading out to join the others.

You became nervous as you saw them gathered together, talking amongst themselves as they haven’t noticed you yet. You rarely ever wore dresses these days, especially of the kind you were wearing now which left you feeling bare and exposed even though the dress wasn’t at all much revealing. So as you approached them, you couldn’t help picking at your fingers in anxiety.

The men turned at the sound of your heels clicking against the ground, and when they laid their eyes on you, they couldn’t help but gawk with their mouths parted open, as if they had seen the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. You chewed on the inside of your cheeks as you saw how they stared at you.

“Wow.” Sam was the first to say something. “You look like a million bucks.”

“What? Never seen a woman in a dress before?”

“No, I’ve just never seen you in a dress before.” Sam answered. “You’re always dressed like some hippie/librarian, with your bands shirts, sweaters, plaid pants and jackets.”

“Haha vary funny.”

“Also since when did you have muscles?” Sam noticed as he poked your bare arm. “And since when did you have a tattoo?” He observed the mark you had on your upper right arm, right below your shoulder. It was the mark that was given to you to signify your Olympian status and what you represented. It was about the color that henna left behind after you wiped the paste off your skin, the color of ginger and bronze. The center of your mark was a lightning bolt, which represented a child of Zeus. Below that was your symbol, the torch and the triple moons.

“Since when did you start asking so many questions? But yeah, I’ve always had muscles Sam, I was trained in combat since I was, you could say 9 years old in human years. Also, technically everyone has them, it’s what allows us to move and lift things. And that.” You pointed to your tattoo. “Is my goddess mark, not a tattoo. Every Olympian god has one and they each have their personal symbol that represents them.”

“Wait, so you’ve been trained since you were a kid?” Bucky looked at you to clarify what he heard as they all started to head out.

“Technically, everyone on Olympus starts training that young. Then, when they become of age, a tournament is held to display their skills, following a ceremony after, to celebrate their victory.” You explained as you walked beside them.

The four of you were currently walking on the bridge that led to Madripoor. You could see the city’s skyline out in the distance, the cyberpunk like buildings lighting up the night sky.

“Do you need my coat?” You heard Zemo say beside you, making you look at him.

“Sorry?”

“Do you need my coat?” He repeated himself, referring to how your arms were bare against the cool night. “I wouldn’t want you to get cold.”

You stared at him, stunned from the kind gesture as you tried to form words to say. “Oh uh.....I appreciate the gesture, but I’m fine actually. I’m not that cold.” Though you didn’t want to admit it, you actually would’ve liked to try on his coat, because in all honesty it was a damn nice coat.

“We have to fix this.” You heard Sam say with irritation visible in his voice. “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing.” Zemo mentioned as he pulled out his phone to show Sam. “The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname. Hell, he does look like me, though.” Sam observed the photo.

“You smell this?”

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam sniffed the air as you did the same.

“Smells rancid.” You scrunched your nose at the smell.

“Madripoor. No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error.” Zemo instructed as a black car pulled up in front of you. “High Town’s that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town’s the other way.”

“Let me guess. We don’t have any friends in High Town.” Sam remarked as he opened the door for the back seat.

“Y/n. A moment please, if you will.” Zemo uttered to you.

You stopped in your tracks, seeing Bucky and Sam stand on either side of the car doors, looking between the two of you and especially Zemo, with caution. You nodded your head at them, signaling you were fine and that they can get seated. And though they sat themselves inside the car, that didn’t stop them from keeping their eyes glued to Zemo to make sure he didn’t pull anything stupid.

“What’s the issue?” You turned to Zemo, giving him your attention.

“Since you will be portraying my fiancé, there’s a certain key element you will be needing to complete the image.” You watched as he pulled out a ring from his coat pocket, displaying it in front of you. “If I may?”

You stared at Zemo blankly before nodding your head and holding out your left hand for him. You knew this was only for a show, but you couldn’t help but stiffen as he delicately held your hand with his gloved one before slipping the ring onto your ring finger.

“There.” Hi smiled softly at you, his hand still holding yours. “Now you look the part.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, his thumb brushing against your knuckles, leaving behind a trail of warmth as he gazed down at you. Zemo swore he could have gotten lost in the violet swirls and gold flecks of your eyes forever, which now sparkled against Madripoor’s lit up skyline, the neon city and the places he’s visited not even coming close to the beauty he held before him.

You tried not to blush under his gaze as you gave him a polite smile before slipping your hand out of his. “I should probably change my eyes huh.” You remembered, changing your eyes to a normal color known to earth. “Should I hide the scar?” You asked him, referring to the one on your face.

“I think you should leave it. It suits you, and besides, you never know who might recognize you without it.”

Nodding your head at him, you headed to the car and settling in beside Bucky as Zemo followed, getting in the passenger seat in front of you. In the car ride there, you glanced down at the ring Zemo slipped on your finger, it was definitely a beautiful elegant ring, with a rose gold band and a pear cut garnet in the center that had diamonds that accented the bottom. Once you arrived in the city, you walked through the neon lit streets beside Zemo while Sam and Bucky followed behind. You loosened up your body as you went, swaying your hips slightly as you tried your best not to walk like a bodyguard and look threatening as everyone’s eyes followed the four of you strolling through the streets.

“Here we are.” Zemo announced, stopping in front of a bar before speaking to Bucky in Russian. “Ready to comply… Winter Soldier?”

As you went in, Zemo leaned in to whisper in your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck and startling you as he spoke in a hushed tone. “I want to apologize in advance, forgive me.”

You looked at him with furrowed brows to question what he meant until you felt his gloved hand slide across your back before resting on your waist, pulling you closer to his side. You noticed how his hand fumbled after brushing across your sword as he gave you a questioning look. What was that on your back? Did you really conceal a full on sword on your back underneath your dress? On your way to the bar table you saw people stare as you went through, some of them gawking in surprise at Bucky, or the winter soldier as he was now portraying, while the slimy men in the area roamed their eyes over your body hungrily. Zemo noticed your uneasiness from the way your muscles tensed, though your face didn’t show a sign of it, and glared at the men who dared to lay their eyes on you, only pulling you closer to him to prove that you were with him while Bucky and Sam noticed this as well and positioned themselves where you were blocked from the view of your peers, allowing you to breathe a little better as you approached the bar.

“Hello, gentlemen.” The bartender greeted you all. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed.” Zemo answered for him. “We have business to do with Selby.”

“The usual?”

Sam nodded his head.

“And for the lady?”

“Um Something fruity.” You answered with a flirtatious smile, silently hoping they had something like that on the menu and that you hadn’t blown their cover by ordering the wrong drink.

The bartender handed you what looked to be a pineapple martini and you internally thanked the gods for your sheer bit of luck, taking the drink and thanking the bartender with another smile. You watched as he went to work on Sam’s drink, pulling out of a jar what definitely was a snake. You gulped, your stomach feeling nauseous as you saw the bartender cut open the dead snake, taking out its guts and throwing it in the shot glass. You were mortified to say the least, snakes were one of your symbols and you had owned plenty of the gentle little creatures. You shot Sam a sympathetic look once you saw his expression.

“Cheers.” Zemo held up his glass while Sam stared at his before gathering the courage to drink it all in one go. If Sam wasn’t going to throw up, you were going to do it for him.

While your eyes were trained on Sam’s expression, you felt someone breathe over your neck before feeling a clammy hand graze across your ass.

“Hey baby-“

Your eyes widened before you grabbed the wrist of the man behind you in one quick motion, twisting his arm to an unnatural position as you yanked it away from your body, causing the sleazy looking individual let out a yelp of pain. You would’ve crushed his wrist like crumpled paper if Zemo hadn’t put a cautionary hand on your arm as he whispered to you. “Careful now.”

You let go of the man’s wrist before shoving him aside like a pile of garbage. If their identity wasn’t at risk of being revealed, Zemo, Sam, and Bucky would have gone over there and beat the guy up after you were done with him.

“I got word from high. You ain’t welcome here.” You watched from behind Zemo as a bearded man approached him.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured towards Bucky.

“New haircut?”

“Or bring Selby for a chat.”

The man glanced between Zemo and Bucky before leaving.

“A power broker? Really?” Sam turned to Zemo.

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” You asked.

“Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

Another man was approaching in your direction, most likely to kick you all out or worse, and after following your gaze, Zemo turned to Bucky, speaking to him in Russian just as the man laid a hand on his shoulder. “Winter Soldier. Attack.”

You stood back, watching as Bucky grabbed the dude’s arm and twisted it back. You refrained yourself from intervening as Bucky took down the men that fought against him.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo commented to you and Sam.

Bucky slammed one of the men down on the counter. And as you heard the clicking of guns being loaded, your defensive mode nearly kicked in as you almost reached for your sword before Zemo stopped you.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo whispered to you both before turning to Bucky and speaking in Russian again. “Well done soldier.”

You let your arm drop back down to your side, not a single change in your expression as you eyed everyone around you.

“Selby will see you now.” The bartender spoke up after getting off the phone.

Zemo gave him a thanks, nodding you over and holding out his hand for you to take as you went to his side again, Bucky and Sam following after you. You went through a back door, going down a dark corridor with Zemo’s hand on your back as he guided you through.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” You heard a woman’s voice speak, turning your head to see an older woman in a suit with short white hair lounging back on the coach with her security around her.

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo sat down on the couch before waving you over when he saw you standing near Sam. “Come sit schatzi.”

You straightened up, plastering a smile on your face as you went over to him. Selby’s eyes followed you curiously as you placed your hand in his, your eyes rapidly moving in nervousness for what area would be the most appropriate area to sit. Were you......were you supposed to sit on his lap? Is that how couples work? No, that would be inappropriate. Before things got awkward, you quickly plopped down on the empty spot next to him, crossing over your leg in a way so that it draped over his, leaving your thigh completely exposed from the slit in your dress, save for the dagger that still remained hidden. Sam and Bucky widened their eyes at what you just did, while Zemo stiffened at this sudden movement from you as you also draped one arm around his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him. Were you even doing this right?

“A lot has changed since you were here last.” Selby observed the two of you before her eyes landed on your ring. “Who’s this pretty little thing?”

“This.” Zemo looked at you with a loving look, throwing an arm around your waist to draw circles on your bare back, while his other hand rested on your thigh, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps on your skin as you felt shivers go down your spine. “Is my fiancé. Gorgeous isn’t she?”

How long has it been since you were this close and personal to someone? The last you could remember, women still wore corsets and people still rode carriages. You felt your body heat up from being this close to him, and from the way he stroked your back. How was a mortal man able to leave you feeling like this? If he was able to send shivers down your spine with the mere touch on your back with his gloved hand, you wondered how it would feel to have his bare hands on you, just skin to skin. And if you were being honest, you never really were a fan of cologne but his smelled of a deeper earthy tones with hints of musk, and you were surprised and almost ashamed to say you liked how he smelled. You returned the same loving look to Zemo, trying to make it as believable as possible as you ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head before placing a kiss on his jaw close to his ear. Sam and Bucky couldn’t believe their eyes at the scene before them, the same you who preferred to be a hermit and didn’t go on dates because it involved human interaction, was cuddling up to none other than Helmut Zemo himself. Zemo’s breath faltered a bit from from your touch as he swallowed the lump in his throat, struggling not to break character. Being this close to you, he was able to get a whiff of your perfume and my goodness, Zemo felt as if he could drown in your scent, you smelled like the heavens, not overbearingly sweet, but dark and luxurious and even seductive. Is this what vampires and sirens smelled like when they lured people to their deaths? You raised a brow at Zemo, your heightened senses were picking up on his breathing patterns and heartbeat. Was he getting nervous?

“Extremely.” Selby commented, smirking at the two of you before roaming her eyes over your body. You could feel her taking you in but you kept your eyes trained on the side of Zemo’s face. “Where did you pick this one up? She looks like a fighter.”

“As they say, why not get a woman who can do both. She was part of the Sokovian armed forces, I met her through there.”

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” Selby added after finally taking her eyes off you.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we? I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” Selby turned to Sam with a flirtatious grin, using her hand in a claw like manner as she let out a purr. “What’s the offer?”

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum.” Zemo got up off the couch, going over to Bucky and holding his chin between his fingers. “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or… condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but… things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?”

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me. But.....” She turned you with a sly smile which made your insides turn. “Throw her in with the package and you have yourself a deal.”

Zemo, Sam, and Bucky turned to look at you with dread upon hearing her words. This wasn’t at all part of the plan.

“No, no no. That wasn’t the deal.” Zemo stepped over to where you sat, blocking you from her. “She’s not for sale.”

“Why not?” Selby raised her brow at Zemo. “I’m pretty sure a man like you could pick up someone else to be your plaything or fiancé or whatever. I like this one in particular.” She turned to you again.

“That’s not-“ Zemo started before he was cut off by Sam’s cellphone vibrating.

You breath was caught in your throat and it felt as if the room had dropped in temperature. You could feel the tension floating around the air as everyone’s eyes were trained on Sam now, making you sit up straight and uncross your legs so that they were planted firmly on the ground. Your hand rested on your thigh just above where the hilt of your dagger was as your eyes darted around the room, watching each and every person like a hawk about to swoop down on its prey. You had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

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mc-doppomine · 4 years ago

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Dunno why this came to mind...maybe calculating Jakurai’s deal here...Who knows but here I am imagining how much schooling these boys have gone through.

As a note, I am not saying their schooling level as any jab to them. All people are different. Some would prefer going to school, some do not have the opportunity and some have other things to do. It really is many reasons why they would or wouldn’t go on. And I’m just guessing what I think they’ve done based off information we have of them.

Buster Bros!!!

Ichiro I feel only completed compulsory school and some of high school. He was too busy supporting the orphanage and his brothers to really keep up with it. And considering Yorozuya Yamada is likely their only source of income, he hasn’t really gone back either. I don’t that particularly bothers Ichiro since while he wasn’t bad at school he wouldn’t say he liked it either.

Jiro is at the age where he didn’t have to go to school anymore but Ichiro made him stay. As it was just better options for Jiro if he does finish school. He also doesn’t go to cram school as 1) he can’t stand school as is, 2) he likely goes to help Ichiro with the business and 3) there’s a chance they can’t afford to send him. Despite the latest drama tracks, I don’t see school being a point of contention between them even if Jiro doesn’t like school. I don’t see him pursuing a traditional higher education, if he even goes at all.

Saburo is still in compulsory school as far as I understand so it’s not really a question of if he goes. But obviously Ichiro would want him to stay. Especially him because he’s good at it and seems to like it. That and it might help Saburo’s social skills to have to be around kids his age. For the most of the same reasons, Saburo doesn’t do cram school either. If anything he probably could tutor if he didn’t get so easily frustrated with people. I do feel he could make it to the top schools when he gets older but I see an interest in going overseas for uni.

Mad Trigger Crew

Samatoki I don’t think went past compulsory schooling. He was too busy with yakuza stuff to really deal with school. I see him getting into a lot of fights over his background, namely badmouthing of his parents. He probably had Nemu stay though because he wanted her to have options. I think he’s really good with money even though he probably hasn’t had to worry about it for a long time

Jyuto I initially was gonna say did go to college but researching a little bit, he probably didn’t. He only would need to finish high school and pass exams. Which I feel he was prepared for. Like I think he’s been set on being a cop for a long time and worked for that. Which is why I’ll also go out on a limb and say that in high school this boy was a runner so he was also in shape for his training when he passed exams. I also think Jyuto was a good boy student.

Rio likely went into military service as soon as he could, which I believe is 18 over there. It’s a little harder to tell about how the service was since the world of hypmic is one that had another war, so it’s likely his time was busier than what it would be normally for someone in the navy. He absolutely could’ve gone to uni and come back to get a better rank but I don’t think Rio really cared about that aspect of it. (This man knows communications and some hacking, you cannot tell me he couldn’t have gone far) I will say he likely took advantage of his half-American status and is fluent in English as it would’ve been useful for joint exercises with the states. I think the dissolution of the navy really shot him in the foot but he’s just too resourceful to keep down with that.

Fling Posse

Ramuda...obviously didn’t. And I don’t think his records would show anything. Like if it had to show anything, it would probably show him going to a super large school where it’s completely possible no one knows who the hell he was (because he was never there). And if he was based off someone, he likely had some of his credentials taken from them. He understand the culture of schooling though, I mean his style and personality does seem to draw girls high school age and older.

Gentaro is pretty hard to imagine to be honest. I don’t see him enjoying his school life and being around classmates for an extended amount of time. And while I think he could’ve spent some time in academia in literary research, I also see him finding it way too stuffy for writing. But I think ultimately...he went to uni for a short time. For some reason I just don’t see him vibing with how the system is for it.

Dice did not. I don’t think he finished high school although he could’ve if he wanted. But he probably avoids it because it’d be an easier way to keep track of him and run contrary to his stray sort of life style.

Matenrou

Jakurai...is a doctor...I sure HOPE he went to school for his profession. So he studied some of the stuff you need for doctoring during his time as an assassin but he didn’t actually go into studying to be a doctor until he quit his killing at 23. He probably went into the national defense medical college, which seems to be 6 year program but you have an extra 2-3 years of compulsory service with it. I think he likely finished his compulsory service, at the latest, a year before the Dirty Dawg timeline. Or OR he faked his schooling and just knew the equivalent knowledge from his time as an assassin and was able to pass his exams and later studied whatever he lacked. He’s basically fully legally certified NOW, don’t worry...

Hifumi I just can’t see going past high school. Like I’ve always seen the incident happening in his last year of high school and it made it difficult for him to even finish. And considering he claimed in the first Matenrou drama track that he didn’t find a way to live with his phobia until he was 20...I don’t think he went. Not that he would’ve been interested in it. Hifumi is interested in what he likes and wouldn’t want to put the effort either way. I don’t think he really cares and he has more than enough skills (and money) to do just about whatever he wants.

Doppo likely went to uni. He couldn’t get into the real prestigious schools and knew he couldn’t so just went for wherever he could get into rather than wait to test again. I feel like his degree is in either accounting or business. I think he had a part-time while in school to pay for it since it seems like his family might not be as well off or he didn’t want to burden his parents (in a passing conversation I think he mentioned paying for his brother’s exams or schooling). For some reason I also can see him having a minor in biology because I see him either knowing a lot about plants or knowing a lot about marine life. What kind of person just thinking of a water flea for like a small creature?

Dotsuitare Hompo

Sasara I feel like he didn’t go past high school. Not that he couldn’t. Just that he didn’t find a need to? Not when he was set on going into comedy. Like it was either make it or be trapped with his family. And he was hard noooope.

Rosho....is a teacher? I sure HOPE he went for his teaching certificate. I don’t think he was going to initially and might not have while he was doing the comedy game with Sasara? Their time line is a little fuzzy, I haven’t found the indicator of if Rosho and Sasara disbanded before he went to MCD or after. If it was before, then yes he went to school after they disbanded. If not, then he was in school while doing the manzai thing. So yeah dual major of mathematics (or statistics) and education (he didn’t need both but I have faith in him).

Rei most definitely went to fucking uni. This bastard would let you think he didn’t but he did. He’s probably a fucking doctor or just shy of it. Drives me mad. Why am I sure? Because if Rei is behind the hypnosis mics. As in the designer and/or inventor of it, he is a scientist or engineer of some type. I see him having a degree in either biotechnology or neuroscience. I learn towards the latter because I feel like he also got a minor in psychology (or y’know what, business is possible too for a minor). Just to mess with people.

Bad Ass Temple

Kuko I feel was the same as Ichiro in that he went to high school but not necessarily finishing it. I don’t believe he would’ve had to...if anything he’s gone back to his teachings at his temple. Yet it seems he doesn’t do that either so I’m not sure. I just don’t think he did anything past high school.

Jyushi I think he might’ve just finished high school? I don’t know if he was just finishing or he’s soon to be doing exams. But I think he’s going to finish regardless. Y’know I feel like Jyushi would’ve liked going to uni. I can’t think of what he’d go to school for though! Would it be adding too much work to a passion if he did something with music theory?

Hitoya...is a lawyer? So yeah? And you have to wonder if Hitoya is a masochist or loves to learn or what have you. Because he was in medical school WITH Jakurai. And then when they part ways, he quits and then goes into LAW. Are you kidding me? Hitoya, Hitoya please...I looked it up, he HAS to be a masochist! Law in Japan is super hard to get into! It has one of the most difficult bar exams to exist! What are you doing, man??? Although...I think Hitoya is still fairly new as a lawyer though because him starting when I assume Jakurai started school at 23, would have him only being fully practicing for 5 years. And that’s assuming he dropped out the first year and not later...which would only shrink he years outside. Unless whatever he got for his bachelors was applicable for law too (behavioral science?)...either way, yes he’s done it and he sure does do a lot to beat a guy that doesn’t even know they’re competing.

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stillebesat · 4 years ago

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The Sweater

Cartoon Therapy: Emile Sanders Shorts: Remy (Sleep) Sanders Sides: Janus Blurb: Emile had said he was making a sweater for a friend. Only he neglected to tell Remy that this friend wasn’t exactly...well...human. Fic Type: General, NotQuiteHuman!AU, Kid!Janus Overall Fic Warnings: Extra Limbs, Implied Child Abandonment Taglist in Reblog

“You didn’t have to come.”

Remy flinched at the unexpected rumble from the towering man walking next to him. After three days spent with Emile, he was sure that he would have such a reaction under control sooner rather than later...so long as the dude stopped speaking up out of the blue like this that is.

Emile licked his lips, adjusting his glasses as he held the tissue wrapped package closer to his chest. “Really.”

Remy took a sip from his Starbucks cup, savoring the warmth of the hot chocolate in the chill evening air, glad that the snow had stopped falling for a glacier minute. “Gurl.” He looked up over the rims of his sunglasses and smirked, again trying to not take it to heart that this guy was a good hulking foot taller than him. “I soo did. With all the blood, sweat, and tears I put into helping you--you owe me this at least.”

It wasn’t everyday that he walked into the room reserved for teaching beginners how to be dressmakers in search of an extra spool of green thread to find this unexpectedly gentle giant awkwardly hunched over the sewing machine attempting to make….something.

He’d heard the term bull in a china shop before, but Remy had never felt the term applicable to anyone until he saw Emile. He’d been sure one wrong twitch of his dinner plate sized hands would mean bye bye sewing machine.

Of course, after getting the big guy to spill the beans and admit that he’d been trying to make a sweater for a ‘friend’ by threatening to kick him out of the sewing lab for being there outside hours; Remy had learned that just like the Mythbusters had proven, despite Emile’s wrestling sized figure, he was just as delicate as the bull in the episode had been. His large fingers were far more dexterous -if prone to being pricked by needles- than Remy had expected of the guy who could probably crush a watermelon with his bare hands.

But that didn’t mean he’d leave this amateur to his own devices. No Ma’am! Not after he’d seen the pitiful first attempt of something that could have been a sweater fit for a large teddy bear or maybe a small child, Remy had delegated himself as Emile’s pseudo teacher if only to ensure no sewing machines ended up crushed into teacups.

He needn’t have worried though. Emile had a soft touch.

The big guy bit his lip, keeping his eyes firmly straight ahead in a way that told Remy he didn’t want to make eye contact.

That was probably wise for him because Remy could pull a mean puppy dog look when he wanted to. He’d received more than his fair share of drinks on the house from it and he could and would use those eyes against Emile if he thought it would help his case.

Emile exhaled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I just--I don’t know if--if Stitch will like...well...strangers. He’s very shy.”

Stitch. Like the alien from that kids movie.

Kids movies that Emile was rather obsessed with once he opened that particular can of gummy worms though Remy was sure he was only beginning to uncover that massive iceberg of an interest. This intimidating mountain of a man had morphed into quite the giant nerdy softie when it came to him talking about his cartoons.

Maybe that was why the sweater had been comically small. Of course, getting the proper sizing for this gift from Emile had been rather...like pulling teeth. It had taken a full hour of wheedling before Emile had admitted that he was only guessing at the size he needed for this...friend.

“Sugarbee.” Remy shook his head. “If he likes you I don’t see how little--” and it galled him that he had to call himself little because he was a good five foot eleven inches thank you very much. “Old me would frighten him away.”

Emile shrugged a shoulder, fingers brushing the string on the package. “He’s just...I don’t want to scare him. I barely have any trust with him as it is and if I bring someone new--”

Remy rolled his eyes, flexing his fingers around his cooling cup. It was like the guy was talking about a feral dog and not a person. “Trust me, babes. I ain’t gonna scare him.”

The sweater on the other hand?

That was less certain.

Because it had to be the strangest one ever created.

Like Remy had seen his fair share of Ugly Sweaters over the years.

But this one would probably take the cake if only for the fact that Emile had insisted that said sweater have six arms.

After having to figure out the logistics of that particular snag, and after doing most of the sewing of those extra arms himself, there was no way Remy wasn’t seeing the reaction of this ‘Stitch’ kid to this particular present.

Maybe the dude just liked pretending to be the alien and Emile was humoring him.

Regardless, Remy wanted to make sure that said monstrosity actually fit. It was a good eighty-two percent of his work after all and he prided himself on his garments fitting perfectly.

Emile exhaled, still avoiding eye contact. “Just...stay behind me okay?”

Remy gulped the last of his hot chocolate, tossing the cup into a nearby trash can as he followed Emile around the corner into a tree filled snow covered park. “Three steps back. Got it, Princess.”

Though seriously, if Stitch wasn’t afraid of Emile, towering giant that he was, he highly doubted his presence would be an issue.

Remy shoved his hands into his pockets, letting the big guy move ahead to cut a swath through the untouched snow like a snowplow on a highway towards a huge pine tree in an out of the way corner that had branches all the way down to the ground, hiding the trunk completely from view. It was an odd spot to meet a ‘friend.’ Especially since said friend had apparently not arrived yet.

Remy exhaled, hunching his shoulders. “Looks like we’re early.” He commented, glancing around the park, seeing no one else. Which made sense. It was nearly sunset. It was cold. The sky had a dark enough overcast that he was sure it would start snowing again any second. Who in their right mind would be out right now?

“We’re not.” Emile said, glancing over his shoulder. “Remember. Stay back.” He again cautioned before he knelt, letting out a soft three pitch whistle. “Stitch?” He called softly. “Hey buddy, it’s me, Emile. I--I brought you something.”

Remy frowned, staring at the silent tree. “Did you actually have me help you make a sweater for a mutant squirrel?” That or Emile had a screw loose and he’d just spent three days making a monstrosity of a sweater for an imaginary friend. “Shh!” Emile hissed before again whistling at the tree. “Stitch? It’s okay. This is Remy. He’s a…”

Remy raised an eyebrow as Emile bit his lip, glancing back at him.

“He’s a friend, he won’t hurt you.” The big guy edged another foot closer, hand brushing the tips of the pine needles sending snow showering down off the branches. “Please come out? I--we brought you something.”

The pine tree remained silent.

Remy shoved his hands deeper in his pockets, regretting more that he’d drunk all his hot chocolate. “Maybe he’s not home.” Everyone who was anyone in their right mind would be anywhere but outside in this weather.

“Maybe you’re scaring him.” Emile snapped back before wincing. “Ah...could you like...kneel down? Please.”

Remy scoffed. Him? Scaring the imaginary friend? If Emile wasn’t scary then Remy definitely wasn’t scary either. “And freeze to death?” He asked, awkwardly crouching on his heels. His designer shoes were already feeling the damp chill of the snow working its way in to soak his socks, there was no way he would allow his knees to experience the same torment.

“Stitch?” Emile pleaded, again whistling as he edged closer. “Stitch.”

They were gonna be out here until midnight at this point. “Come on, Stitcharoo.” He said ignoring the big guy’s frantic hissing to shut up. “I’m friendly. Emile is friendly. We’re all friendily freezing here so how about you come out an--” Remy cut off as the branches rustled.

A single yellow eye peered out at them, glinting in the fading sunlight.

Okay. Imaginary friend out. Mutant feral squirrel back in.

“Meal?” A shaky voice asked. A young shaky voice.

Ooohhh Goodie. Remy pressed his lips together, fighting the way his heart had jumped into his throat. Freaking talking mutant feral squirrel. It had better be a mutant squirrel because if there was a freaking child living in this tree in the middle of a freaking snow storm--

Emile visibly sagged with relief. “Hey Stitch, buddy. You okay?”

The eye gave a slow blink. “C-c-cold.”

“Aren’t we all.” Remy muttered, glad that his sunglasses protected him from whatever baleful glare the creature was casting on him now. He gave a two fingered wave. “I’m freezing too, buckaroo.”

“Remy.”

“What?”

Emile gave him the patented Will you shut up look that would have made any mother proud.

Remy made a face. “You never said I couldn’t talk.” He was still behind him wasn’t he? He was crouching in the freaking snow freezing his toes off. He should be allowed to talk to the glowing eye that had better not be a child living in the tree in the middle of winter!

Emile exhaled, before pulling off the string on the present, unwrapping the black and yellow sweater. “Remy and I made you this, Stitch. To help with the cold.” He said, holding it out in all its six-armed glory.

A soft gasp came from the tree as the yellow eye opened wide. “Me?”

“Yah, kiddo.” Emile said, nodding. “Can I help you put it on?”

The branches shifted, the yellow eye glancing to Remy before vanishing.

Sugarbee hadn’t been kidding when he said his friend was shy.

“C-cold.” The voice whispered from somewhere within the tree. “Meal. Safe?”

Remy fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, anger burning in his chest. They’d be out here all night at this rate. “Yah, honeysuckle, you’re safe. Let Emile put the sweater on you okay? I’ll stay right here.” There was no one else in the park. Who would leave a child out here alone! One that had apparently been out here for a while if previous conversations with Emile were anything to go by.

The branches didn’t move.

Perfect.

“Stitch.” Emile whispered, slowly lowering the sweater, stretching out a hand to the branches. “Please? You’re cold, let me help you this time.”

Remy frowned again, poking Emile in the back. “This time?”

Emile flinched. “He--ah...he hasn’t actually let me...touch him? Before. This is the closest I’ve gotten.”

Oh for the love of! Remy shot to his feet. “Gurl!”

The big guy was there, a plate sized hand on his chest holding him back and radiating heat like the sun, before he could take a step. “I said he was shy.” Emile said, eyes wide and pleading. “Don’t. Scare. Him.”

Ah huh. And in the process of not scaring him they were just going to have this mysterious friend freeze to death because there would be no way a simple sweater would help the kid survive the night! Remy growled trying to move around Emile, but it was like trying to move around a mountain. “The sound of that voice tells me that’s a child, Sugarbee. A FREAKING CHILD and you’re just letting him stay here.”

“He doesn’t trust humans!”

That pulled him up short. “Humans.” Remy repeated, lowering his sunglasses. “HUMANS? Is he not human, Emile?” If this was an actual real life Stitch then--then!!

Emile had the grace to look embarrassed. “I--I---uhh--”

Remy threw up his hands. He would burn that particular bridge when he got there, But right now, he needed to see this ‘not human’ child and make sure he was safe. Remy ducked under Emile’s arm, scooping up the sweater in the process. “Hey Stitcharoo.” He said crouching at the base of the tree branches, ignoring the frantic warnings hissing like a teapot behind him as he pulled off his sunglasses, hanging them from the collar of his jacket. “It’s gonna snow again, tonight. You know. Get colder? Freeze. And my buddy here is like this giant heating blanket and wants to keep you warm. You’ll like the warm. I promise it’s--”

He froze as a child’s pale hand, nearly tinged blue, popped out of the tree, visibly shaking as it poked his cheek before jerking back out of sight.

“It’s--it’s--I uhh Hi?” Remy stuttered out, brain trying to process what had just happened as he rubbed the spot the child had touched.

Surely. Surely, he hadn’t seen what he thought he’d seen. There hadn’t been glittering scales on that hand. No. No trick of the light. Maybe it was cosmetic? Part of a costume?

The branches rustled before two hands, two scaled covered left hands, parted them, revealing a child’s face half covered in scales, peering back at him. “Hi.” The kid said, eyes -one golden, one a regular brown- shifting to Emile as he knelt down next to Remy before focusing on Remy himself. “Safe?”

“I--” Remy blinked before nodding dumbly as a third hand, a right hand with no scales on the pale skin this time, reached out to Emile’s ginormous hand.

Suddenly Emile’s insistence that there needed to be six arms made a lot more sense. If Remy had already seen three hands, surely that could mean that there were three more still hidden out of sight.

“You’re safe.” Emile said, gently taking the boy’s hand and squeezing it.

The boy bit his lip before he surged forward straight into Emile’s chest. “Wa-warm.” He whispered, multiple hands gripping onto his coat as snow from the branches above showered down on top of them.

Remy tsked, quickly shaking off the white powder, heart pounding like a drum as he took in the ragged state of the kid’s clothes, the so called ‘sweater’ he currently wore was barely worth the name, only having two proper arms and four more holes in the sides for the--for the, Gee Manetti, the kid actually had six arms!!!! as Emile pulled open his tent of a jacket to wrap around the boy.

“I got you. I got you.” Emile soothed as he scooped Stitch--Remy really hoped that wasn’t his actual name--into his lap, getting his bare feet out of the snow.

The boy visibly shivered, tucking his toes -normal human toes beyond the left set being more scaled- into the crease between Emile’s shirt and pants.

Remy bit back a growl. No shoes. Barely any clothes. Some welcome to Earth this kid got. Just because he had six freaking arms didn’t mean that the boy deserved to be abandoned! Even Superman had had a willing farm couple to look after him!

“I hope you know he is not staying here.” Remy softly scolded, moving cautiously closer. Despite his misgivings about exposing the boy to the weather, he pulled Emile’s coat away so he could get his divine gift of a sweater onto the kid, a difficult feat as Stitch had practically glued himself against Emile’s side.

The boy made a sound of protest, but didn’t fight him, eyes barely open as he watched Remy finagle the sweater over the rags he currently wore.

It was pathetic. The boy was practically skin and bones! Remy could feel each individual rib as he tugged the fabric over him for crying out loud! Not to mention the arms themselves were practically sticks! This kid had been neglected for some time. It was--it was---Remy did growl. No one should have to live like this!

“If you aren’t taking him home with you, by golly I will bring him to my place.” He said, pulling each sleeve over the boy’s ice cold hands. “Crofters! Emile, he needs another three sweaters, new pants, socks, SHOES, mittens--no no gloves. Probably gloves. This isn’t RIGHT!” The boy was COLD. His scales were like ice. How he wasn’t dead yet from hypothermia or frostbite was a mystery but No Ma’am was the kid gonna spend another night out here. “He needs soup, hot chocolate, a warm water bottle, a heated blanket a--”

“I know.”

Remy jerked his head up at Emile’s quiet words. “Well. Good.” He pulled off his coat so he could slip his own sweater over his head and use it to create some temporary pants for the kid, until he could find something better. At least the boy had two normal legs so he could stuff one into each sleeve.

“Do--” Emile cleared his throat, keeping his eyes firmly on Stitch’s hair. “Do you...have a place for him?”

Remy blinked as he slipped his own coat back on. “Do I---of course I do--do you not?!” What had he been planning to do once he got the boy to trust him? Leave him here?

Emile flushed, ducking his head.

Okay. Okay. He took a calming breath as the boy dropped two of his hands down to grab one of Remy’s in a tight grip, golden eye practically glowing as it flickered between him and Emile. “Rephrase. Do you have a place to stay yourself, Em?”

“Not one safe for him.” Came the soft response. “I...it’s barely safe for me.”

Barely safe for a guy who could feasibly dead lift a car? Punch a hole in concrete? He’d have to unpack the meaning of that particular admission some other time. Right after he had time to process that this kid had six freaking arms and was either an actual alien or escaped mutant experiment of some sort.

“Right.” Remy exhaled, running his free hand through his hair. “Right. First. We get you both back to my place. Second. Get him warm and fed.” Maybe to a doctor--did he even know any doctors who could handle this?! “Third. Figure out living arrangements. Capiche?” Oh and Fourth. Figure out the boy’s actual name or give him a cooler one because no way would he be continuing to call him Stitch.

That was a simple enough list right? Just four things. Nothing complicated about that.

Emile blinked, adjusting his glasses. “But you don’t know me.”

Remy scoffed, squeezing the boy’s hands. Sure three days haraunanging the guy on how to properly thread a bobbin wasn’t a normal way to invite someone to be your roommate, but it wasn’t the worst way either. “I don’t know the kid either, Em. But I do know that he needs a home and if you need one too then you’ve got one with me.” The dude had a good heart. He’d been attempting to make a sweater instead of buying one and poking holes in it for crying out loud.

“I--uh--” Emile cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” At least not until he got them all out of the cold. Then they could talk.

The kid shivered again, tightening his grip on their hands. “Safe?” He whispered, resting his head against Emile’s chest, eyes flickering between them both.

Safe? There was no question about it. Not with another snowstorm coming. Not when Remy desperately itched to pull out all his extra fabric from his sewing closet to throw onto the kid just to give him a proper, better fitting outfit. “Of course, honeysuckle.” He said, pulling the tent of a coat that Emile wore back over the boy to protect him from the cold. “We’ll keep you safe.” He looked up, meeting Emile’s eyes, smirking as he found acceptance there. “We promise.”

#The Sweater #stillebesat #Emile Picani #Remy #Sleep #Janus #Deceit #extra limbs tw #child abandonment tw #Kid!Janus #Kid!Deceit #Stitch #Cartoon Therapy #Sanders Shorts #Sanders Sides #Sweater Verse

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years ago

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HASO, “Saved by a Nightmare.”

I wanted to write something short and quick today, but this is what happened instead. I hope you all like. I knw you wanted to know more about the Bran and what happened to Ket

He was alone.

Finally!

He said that, but what he didn’t know is that he had actually been mostly alone for the past five years. After his traumatic experience some five years earlier, he had requested a transfer to a mining station on an unnamed planet in an unnamed system on the very outskirts of andromeda.

He had not come up for air in those five years.

He had not seen a sole or the suggestion of another sole other than the glowing bioluminescent coating that he left behind to brighten up the tunnels just a bit.

He was technically supposed to be down here mining precious metals, and of course every day he sent up a token care of rocks and waste through the main shaft just to make him think he was actually doing something. He was not, in fact, doing anything at all really except slowly excavating his tunnel deeper and deeper, this increasing the likelihood that he would never see another living being for the rest of his life.

And so there he rested at the bottom of the deepest shaft amid a pile of rubble contemplating his own thoughts.

A pastime that was not really recommended because when he went into his own thoughts he often spent much of that time bitterly contemplating the last few years and what had led him here in the first place.

Ket was famous, and he had spent the list five years trying to make himself anonymous once again.

Why was he famous?

Because he had been the first alien to have ever met a human.

He was the first alien species humans had ever come in contact with, and because of that chance meeting he would probably have emotional scars for the rest of his life. When he closed his eyes at night he often watched, as if in slow motion as the dangerous creature with its too sharp teeth and strange churring growl chased him through mases and tunnels, never giving up, never ending pursuit until Ket wa exhausted and lying helpless on the floor.

He saw the thing in his dreams.

Jumped at every noise

And cowered at the very thought.

He had been just a pup then really, but the meeting had scarred him for life.

He had asked to come here only months after the encounter and hadn’t come up for air since. The outside world was lost to him, and he knew nothing of it except for the horrible humans which were now probably waiting for him on the surface, ready to eat him.

A part of him wondered if the strange predator creatures had taken over the galaxy yet, and maybe he was the last one of his species left trapped down here in the dark.

Ket didn’t watch the news, or seek any information about the horrifying creatures that had turned him into this. It would have taken him less than half a day to crawl from his tunnels and go ask, but the thought of leaving his safe, protective confines, just make him sick to think about.

No, he would stay here where it was safe.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, when suddenly a low rumbling tremor rose up through his body.

He sat up and looked around as the cave shook and pebbles danced on the floor.

What was going on!

He turned in a tight circle pressing his ear against the wall.

Oh hell!

The tremor had destabilized his tunnel. He could hear it through the rocks.

What was happening! He tried to move, but as he shifted he felt the tunnel rumble slightly.

On no….. On no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end, he was going to die down here, and there was no one to come save him. He hadn’t submitted a report in weeks….

In reality years.

No one was going to be ale to find him!

He sat there frozen in shock as another tremor rocked his tunnels. WHat was happening!

*** “Mayday mayday, Omen one this is mining facility 46A13 requisition immediate assistance.”

“Copy that 46, Omen in root to your position, please stand by.”

“And how do you plan on dealing with a tunnel collapse, Admiral. That's not exactly our area of expertise.” Sunny walked beside him, her long even strides eating away the distance as they made their way down towards the hanger.

“I have no idea but we are going to find a way.�� They rounded a corner and the Admiral dropped to one knee for a quick moment offering his hand to a small fluffy figure who climbed onto his hand and allowed the Admiral to rest him on his shoulder, “Lord Avex, I am glad you could make it. Have you been briefed.”

The small, colorful, and pig eared creature tapped his foot on the Admiral’s shoulder.

“I think, if we remove one of the Vrul shield modulators, and unhook one of the laser mounts we might be able to make something functional for a rescue mission.”

“How dangerous is that going to be taking two high powered objects into a cave?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“Sure.”

“A twenty.”

Admiral Vir grunted and rounded the corner to where a group of marines werve suiting up in armored spelunking gear.

“Don’t the mining companies have equipment for this kind of thing?” Sunny asked, “I would assume they would be ready for any eventuality like this?”

“You would think that.” Adam said, walking over to joining the others, “But they are actually a little less prepared than you might think. The Bran have been mining manually for a long time, and they usually don’t need precautionary measures because they mine so well, of course this planet had also not shown any seismic activity up until now either, so I guess we can all be wrong about something.

“Lord Avex, talk to your men about getting the equipment ready.”

The fuzzy creatures bobbed its head, which looked more like it’s entier body, and rolled down the Admiral’s arm like a ramp, plopping to the floor and then dashing off into the darkness.

Adam pulled on a hard hat and tested the light.

“I still don’t see why they would send you. You guys have to experience in this sort of thing.” Sunny pointed out

Adam secured his hard hat and looked up smiling, “If I didn’t know any better I would say you were worried about me.”

She crossed both of her arms, “I AM worried about you, you big idiot. You seem to have this thing for running into dangerous situations with only half assed plans.”

He just smiled, “Not entirely half assed, we are going to be hooked up to camera feeds leading up to some of the diggers who are going to give us instructions.”

“Then why don’t they do it themselves?”

“The bran aren’t exactly known for their bravery, Sunny.”

She stared at him with narrowed eyes, “And sometimes, I wish that you weren’t known for yours either.”

“I’m flattered, I really am, but I have to go.” he reached out a hand, paused and then drew it back, stepping away while awkwardly clearing his throat, “Anyway, keep the crew out of trouble while I am gone will you.”

Sunny had no time to say anything else as Lord Avex returned at the head of a small army of his fluffy companions carrying some random parts that they were able to attach to Adam with some warning that this was going to be very dangerous.

Lord Avex would be accompanying him to make sure the machine didn’t self destruct at any point.

Sunny did not find that particularly comforting.

The humans on the other hand suited up like it was just another day for them, setting up and loading onto the drop ship without so much as a backward glance.

Adam flew one of the ships down, lord Avex claiming the copilot seat.

The world they landed on was tidally locked with it’s star leaving on side completely cold and the other side overly hot. They landed on the band between light and dark where it was bearable, and made it to within the Bran’s atmospheric bubble, which was the one piece of technology they were actually known for.

Upon arrival they were briefed on the situation.

Less than an hour ago there had been some sort of seismic activity below the surface of the planet. The jolt had been enough to destabilize many of the tunnels. Fortunately for them large groups of Bran had been able to make their way out due to their superior mining skills, but there were still a few trapped inside due to cave ins.

No bran was willing to go back down there to help their comrades, but the Tesraki overseers had had the brilliant idea to look for a group of creatures stupid enough to try themselves.

At least the Tesraki seemed to care about their people, which wasn’t often the case with the furry businessmen.

Most of the workers were stuck on upper levels, and would be relatively easy to get out.

But there was one.

“I am going to be honest with you Admiral, we aren’t entirely sure the bran is still alive down there. No one has seen him in nearly five years. We are only sure that he lives because, occasionally we get sent up a cart of useless rubble from one of the deeper shafts. Generally I would say he is a gonner and just leave him there, but, we have to try all of our options before we resort to abandoning one of our people.”

Adam nodded, “I have a Vrul strength shield and a Celzex designed laser. Will that be enough.”

The two Tesraki looked between each other in quick contemplation before one of them nodded, “The laser, for sure, but I don’t know how well a shield would stand up to the entire weight of a mountain crushing you, we can only hope that we can navigate you down there fast enough and quietly enough not to disturb the tunnels too much.”

“I will go with you to work the laser.” Lord Avex announced, and Adam didn’t argue. He knew the little creature would be offended if he questioned his honor. Celzex may have been insufferable egoists most of the time, but no one could deny their sheer bravery, or perhaps stupidity, but that was something he could admire at least.

He was a human after all, and had practically written the book on competent stupidity.

They were led across open ground under a dark sky, where massive floodlights were being shined down on the multiple tunnel entrances.

They walked a ways into the darkness of the first mine shaft where Bran were still fleeing for cover.

From there each of them was paired with a handler, who would give them instructions on their way down.

Adam was paired with the team lead since he was going to be going deepest. Lord Avex sat on his shoulder.

The Bran stared at them as they walked inside, shying away from the much taller, much scarier looking humans.

Looking at them brought back memories of his first alien encounter, a memory that was both fond and embarrassing considering he was pretty sure he had driven that particular alien to madness.

He had tried to find Ket before, to apologize for freaking him out, but by the time he had gotten around to it, the Bran had already gone to ground. Oh well, maybe one day something would happen, and he would get his chance to apologize

“Can you hear me.”

“Yeah I've got it.: He said, adjusting the sound on his implant.

“Now the entire cave system has been built throughout with audio relays, so we shouldn’t lose contact, but if we do, keep moving forward, and whatever you do, try to keep control of your feet and don’t let them touch the side walls.”

“Yes sir.”

The Bran had mostly cleared out of the front entrance leaving it open for Adam and the group of marines to begin their descent down into the darkness. He looked over at the marines in admiration, never had he had the opportunity to work with such a brave group of men and women, and he looked up to them every day.

They started breaking off halfway down the shaft to their different areas, until Adam was the last one still walking down. At this point the saft was still big enough for him to stand at his full height, and floodlights on the walls were still giving him a good view of where he was going. He had gone down some distance by the time he reached the end given two passages to chose from.

“Left.” he was ordered, and he stepped inside, gingerly making his way across the floor and trying not to touch the walls.

Lord Avex rested on his shoulder controlling his head mounted light.

The tunnel grew smaller and smaller as he went, and he found himself crouching along the way.

Lord Avex moved around back and clung to Adam’s harness.

“See the cracking in the cave above you,”

Adam looked up and did, to his chagrin, see a web of hairline cracks spidering across the ceiling, “Yeah.”

“Those are kept in check by the shoring up along the walls, and you don’t have to worry about them. Cave ins are going to be our biggest concern, now take the next right.”

He did as told,and had to duck under a low opening before continuing his way down. By way of instruction he made his way deep into the ground, sliding down ropes, and climbing through caverns with the ease of a creature that could only have been Bran or human. As far as he knew the Bran were the only other creature that had ever been designed for climbing besides humans, though he was finding that that kind of climbing was a bit different. Humans had originally found their homes in trees, while the Bran had always been cave dwelling creatures.

He found this out pretty soon as he tried to fit his shoulders through a very small opening, slithering forward and trying not to disturb the rock too much.

He was glad he had never been claustrophobic because even he was feeling a little closed off, he could hardly imagine what someone with a fear of being crushed would feel at a moment like this.

“How are you doing down there Admiral.”

He was huffing and puffing rather heavily as he army crawled through the next section of tunnels, lord Avex waddling ust before him.

“Good, good If these caves get any smaller I might not be able to fit though…. Shoulders too big, and there better be a place for me to turn around or otherwise I’m well and truly fucked.” He said that as a joke but a part of him was definitely panicking at that possibility.

“The Bran always build turnaround areas into their tunnel, Admiral, you are going to be fine. Anyway you are approaching the next section. This is a part no one else has been in as far as I know, so we are going to have to play it by ear.

That also was not entirely comforting, but he was going to have to work with it.

He hurried forward , as much as he could and slithered into the vertical shaft going downward.

This was scary as hell, but he kept control and didn’t panic crawling his way deeper and deeper into the caves.

At one point he was coming round a sharp corner some hour down into the dark when a soft rumbling rolled through the stone.

He felt his heart jump into his throat and the rocks swayed around him.

For a moment a spot of true panic colored his thoughts. He was going to die down here…. After everything that had happened….

“Hold on, must be an aftershock.”

He gritted his teeth and kept his head lowered, hand hovering over the control for the shield. He had no idea what would happen if he engaged it this far down, and he didn’t really want to find out, but soon the tremor passed, little fountains of dust falling onto his head. Up ahead the fluffy Celzex was no longer so colorful, matted with dust and gravel.

“Are you ok Admiral.”

“Alright.” he grunted. “A little bit shaken up is all.” He began crawling his way forward again.

Based on our sonar readings, you are getting close. The rock is much less stable down here, so you are more likely to run into cave ins.

He followed as instructed, moving forward and examining the rock below his hands.

As they said would happen they found a caved in part of the tunnel just up ahead.

“You’re going to have to use that laser to dig around one side and create a new tunnel, you will want to avoid the weakened areas of ceiling, so move back a few feet and go through the right hand side”

Before him, the little Celzex move into position ready to fire the weapon, now turned mining equipment.

The laser was bright red and almost blinding in the darkness, and he only had his gloved hands to scoop away discarded rubble, which he gently pushed up the tunnel praying nothing would be distrubed.

It took them a good hour to work through the new tunnel despite the laser, and when they did he was surprised to see an open tunnel glowing with a strange bioluminescent film.

“Something has been living down here.” he muttered kind of glad he was wearing gloves as he crawled into the tunnel.

Getting close Admiral.

***

Ket lay in the rubble ready to die, he knew it was coming, new his life would soon be at an end. Oh how sad it was that it should be so early. Stuck underground in the darkness for the past who knows how long…. Probably no more than a year or so.

Either way he was going to die here, and no one would come to help him. Bran weren’t brave, they didn’t come to your aid.

Bran were cowards at heart and he knew that most of all.

No one was coming for him.

Of course that is when he heard the strange scraping up the tunnel.

He sat up lifting his head and staring into the darkness. WHat could that be!

He was the only one here and had been the only ne here for as long as he could remember. Was he going mad, Where were those sounds coming from!

He pressed back into the wall.

Maybe that hadn’t been an earthquake, maybe there was some sort of giant worm crawling through the depths of this planet finally coming to eat him. Oh the depravity! Couldn’t he just be left in peace!

The scraping sounds grew louder and louder and louder, and he watched in shocked terror as a shadow jolted forward in one of the upper bends.

There was nowhere to run, nowhere for him to go, and even as he thought that the tunnel began to shake again. He held on for dear life, eyes closed praying that death would take him quickly, for he did not want to know what was around that corner. The shaking soon stopped and the figure started moving again.

Ket watched, in mesmerized horror as the thing poked its head around the corner.

Bulbous head, bony shoulders, long spindly arms and bony digits.

Ket began to scream, scream and scream as loud as he could as the creature born of his nightmares scuttled out of the darkness and came crawling towards him. It made some of its same guttural gurgling noises, the ones that had haunted his dreams, and he pressed himself back into the wall screaming and screaming and screaming.

It had come for him at last to devour his heart.

It reached out and grabbed him by the snout, cutting off his scream.

The ground around them began to rumble as the creature gripped him with iron hands, the pale white of its eyes glistening wetly through its dust smeared face.

“Shut UP, shut up shut up, do you want this whole damn thing to come down on us.”

He certainly had not expected to hear his own language, and his attempted screams cut off in a confused gurgle. The rumbling died down a little.

The creature made a gesture with one hand, “Ground team this is Admiral Vir, I have the last survivor and am bringing him up now.”

What…. Wha?

What was going on.

The creature's white teeth glittered in the illumination of his tunnel just as wet and gaping as before.

He was so scared he could hardly move, but shocked as well as the creature from his nightmares pulled him forward and hooked a harness around Ket’s body clipping it to a loop on a harness that encircled the creature's back legs.

“Now do what I do, and you might just live.” The creature hissed at him, still, disconcerting in his own language.

In a daze, Ket followed after as his nightmare dragged him from the collapsing tunnels. Trickling runnel of dust poured down around them from cracks in the ceiling above. It was made pretty clear early on that this creature had not ever been meant for the caves, despite Ket’s memory of one of it’s kind chasing after him through the underground. It was too large, meant to walk upright on thick sturdy legs, but till it climbed with the ease of any Bran.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t scared.

Memories from that night not so long ago, or it seemed to him, kept racing through his mind. Flashes of glowing green eyes and flashing white teeth champing at his heels. The sound of its revving hunting cry as it raced through the darkness. But now he was being towed along behind it as the tunnels rocked around him.

“Shit shit shit shit.” Came the muttering up ahead, and he looked to see that there was another creature riding on the thing’s back. It stared at him with very wide white eyes.

“Lord Avex?”

“Yes?” The creature responded, sounding much less concerned than the predator.

“What happens if you die here?” it was a very blunt and morbid question, but the creature didn’t seem to mind.

“I will be honored for centuries having died in a heroic manner.”

The predator made an incomprehensible grunting noise.

“Admiral, the cave system has been compromised and the tunnels are collapsing. Get out as fast as you can, I repeat as fast as you can, if there is a cave in you will want to be closer to the surface because we might be able to reach you.

They were talking like they expected a collapse, which wasn’t really all that comforting.

The predator went very quiet, but sped up to the point Ket was being dragged along behind.

All around them the tunnels were shaking.

Dust filled the air clogging their vision as the beam of light fractured off dust motes.

They passed a point he had not gone further than in five years, and the predator scrambled up the vertical climb as easily as a Bran would, he scrambled on hands and knees dragging the two of them along. He was almost able to walk in a crouch now, but the tunnels were beginning to cave in around them, rocks falling from the roof and smashing against the ground. The Preditor ducked and pulled to the side grabbing ket around the middle and the strange fluffy creature in the other hand. The tunnel was wide enough for him torun now.

Ket could do nothing but watch.

The predator probably could have escaped if it dropped him, but it refused to do so, adjusting him even as it ran so it could keep better hold, clutching KEt to it’s chest. Its breathing was ragged, labored and panicked, but still it refused to let him go.

He thought he could see light.

And then.

“Its coming down!”

The predator pulled to a stop and threw himself to the ground.

The cave rumbled and roared as rocks egan to fall around them. Ket looked up only to see the underside of the human’s chest and belly as he hugged the two smaller aliens in the leah of his body against the falling stone. He heard the cave ceiling fracture and then felt a pulse of energy around them.

The Last thing he heard was a scream and then a crushing weight.

***

Ket woke unable to breathe, or barely able to breathe, all around them there was a dim glowing of a blue purple nexus, and as he looked he watched the nexus quiver under the strain.

Overhead the predator was curled in around them in a tight ball pressed up against Ket and the strange fluffy creature who was blinking confusedly in the dark.

The predator wheezed as the nexus flickered, holding the two aliens' protection to his chest, pressing his back against the nexus.

“Admiral, are you alright?” The fuzzball asked

“How long will the shield hold?”

“It depends on how many tons of rock we are trapped under.” The Celxex said mildly.

Ket was surprised they were alive at all, based on their original depth he would have said a couple thousands tons for sure.

They were dead.

He glanced up at the predator, nothing more than a dust painted face and two glowing whtie orbs in the dark. This predator had died trying to save him, was dying trying to save him.

It seemed odd that his life was going to end like this.

He looked up at the human and in that moment, in the glowing of the nexus lights he saw the green of its one working eye.

He would have known that color anywhere.

“You!”

The predator looked down at him in confusion.

What? “You…. You’re… that thing!”

“Did a rock hit this one in the head or something.” The one called Lord Avex asked.

But the predator eyed him ,sudden recognition crossing his face, “Ket?”

The creature made that same strange revving noise that made ket pull back in shock.

“Sorry, Sorry, I am just a bit surprised to see you here, I tried to find you to apologize but…. You had already vanished by then.”

“Apologize?” He was so confused

“Yes, I was a bit enthusiastic upon our first meeting. They say I scared you half to death. I promise it was an accident. I never meant it that way, I just get a bit out of hand when I am excited.”

This was news to Ket

He wasn’t entirely sure how to take it.

“Ok ok you two kiss and make up already.” Lord Avex jumped in

The predator grunted, “At least when I die I will have that off my conscience.”

The Nexus flickered and shrunk.

They folded forward on themselves just slightly. Pressed uncomfortably close.

Wheezing fill the hot and muggy confines of their bubble.

The were going to die son.

The nexus continued to grow smaller and smaller until they were curled into a ball with the predator around them, pressed to the point of not being able to breathe. He felt the human’s belly rise and fall with his labored breathing.

They were about to die

And then, The nexus expanded slightly.

The human relaxed, and as minutes wore on the nexus continued to grow until with an eruption it burst up through the rock and dark night sky appeared above them.

The nexus flickered and then died, leaving them all lying on the stone gasping and covered in dust.

Paramedics ran forward to where tey lay with shocked yelles describing how they were still alive.

Ket stared at the human as he was attended to by aliens and others of his kind.

No one seemed to find it odd.

It became clear to Ket in the next few minutes that he had missed a lot.

Bu he hadn’t missed, his once nightmare, becoming his now savior.

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dorki-c · 4 years ago

Text

My Guardian Demon: Chapter 1 Part 4: Unrealistic doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X (Reader)

Rating 16+

TW: Swearing

PROMPT QUESTION FOR THIS STORY ARC: Are all demon’s ‘bad’?

[Masterlist] [<-- Previous | Next -->]

“��The spike of thief demons has---” Nope.

Click.

“—The increase of contractor---” Nope.

Click.

“—Demon therapeutic practice cases are decreasing the amount of—” Oh hell no!

Click.

Turning off the television within the apartment, Izuku watched as (y/n) dramatically slid down the couch in boredom. Glancing to the three open windows paired with an additional two fans blowing cool air into the warm apartment, Izuku doesn’t make much of a reaction at how his demon is feeling.

I mean who can blame them? It's quite warm- regardless of what the weather forecast has been reporting- nobody could’ve thought that a heatwave would’ve come early into the year.

“Jeez, why do those annoying contractor demons have to exist…” Muttered (y/n) as they opted to float towards the window to look at the colourless sky (in comparison to Izuku’s developed vision).

Although the day had started in a very boring manner, once he had arrived home from his morning training with All Might (coupled with a thirty-minute long complaining session from his demon that he should “take better care of himself, instead of pushing himself!”), the green-haired boy decided to lounge on the couch after folding his and his mother’s clothes that were finished drying outside.

Even when the doorbell rang with excitement washing over Izuku. He knew that whatever had erupted in the wake of a new beginning, that the green-haired boy will most certainly be a part of it.

(However, let’s put this monologue to rest. The elephant in the room is here.)

For all that’s said and done, armed with a sharp box cutter- Izuku makes his move of revealing the loot- and don’t let me forget that it’s All Might merch.

“Jeez Izuku, you need to get this obsession under control.” Murmured (y/n), as they swished into his peripherals once more. Taking careful observation of how Izuku ignored his demon’s comment, he delicately takes each box out with precise care and stability to the point that it leaves the demon awestruck at his tentativeness.

“I mean, sure it's not bad to have something you like—” (y/n) paused in order to dig up a more suitable word choice, “—but, there are some things where you need to save up for.”

Even amidst the one-sided conversation, which was cut short by (y/n) staring at the bronze age All Might, Izuku had also paid close observation of how his demon interacted with him.

He still remembers that one training session where even though he was dead tired of pulling both a fridge and his mentor, the slight encouragement from you had pushed him far enough to get up and try again!

(That goes without saying, All Might had asked Izuku to stay a bit longer to discuss the taboo subject of demons.)

“Young Midoriya, are you aware of auras?”

Seeing as talking a demon into existence is outrageously disrespectful, Izuku was shocked at the revelation of hearing All Might (out of anybody else) talk so openly about it!

Squeaking a meek “yes” in hopes that All Might doesn’t continue this conversation (but he still does), the adult turned to face his successor to utter a phrase the child will never forget.

“Then why is your demon’s aura pulsating so dangerously?”

That definitely left Izuku flabbergasted.

And now looking back at it, why is his demon so protective of him?

(He’ll never know, I guess?)

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

“Izuku, you know I can’t see normal colours.” Lamented the red demon as they lean on his shoulder to kill time and be comfortable.

Just as the green-haired boy inspected the bronze age All Might figure and ready to put it on one of his many shelves, he paused before asking (y/n) “Why do you like this figure?”

“That’s a vague question.”

Izuku deadpanned at his demon’s answer.

(Really (y/n)? Really?)

“Okay! Okay! I’ll answer your silly question!” If anything, you’re the one with the silly questions.

“I like the design, I guess!” Shrugging their shoulders, taking a pause to look at the rest of the figures, the demon settled on picking that one as their favourite.

(By 'that' one, it's the bronze age figure.)

“Plus… it doesn’t look as flashy as the others.”

“What’s wrong with looking flashy!”

“A lot of things.”

That argument did not end for a long time. I can tell you that!

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

“Wait-- what time is it?” Another yawn escaped Izuku’s mouth before he covered it with a hand of his.

The dusky night setting where only one lamp was emitting a soft after hour glow smudged onto a page of multiple scribbles and notes, the pencil of his noted the new interests of (y/n) in delicate detail with few errors in his vocabulary.

Taking an eye off the notebook, leaning back in his chair before swerving around to see the digital clock, vermillion numbers glowered at him to reveal it was ‘8:43’ pm.

“It’s around 8:40 pm, (Y/n). Why do you need to know?” The demon’s slumped form sprung up in alarm, emitting more hazy fog to flood out them. That was strange…Izuku has never seen (y/n) so anxious about the time.

“The show is gonna start soon!!” Cried (y/n), which lead to his demon gripping him on his free arm and tugging as hard as they can to exit his room.

Even if demons have a unique sense of individuality, I wonder why people perceive them as being bad?

Isn’t it naïve to consider a ‘figment’ of our minds to be labelled something as vague as ‘bad’?

Even if said figment can easily destroy you from the inside out like miasma or possess the demon’s host in hopes of protecting them from outside danger.

Is possessing somebody out of protecting them, cruel or righteous? Is it wrong or right?

(Izuku doesn’t have the ethical mindset to process his thoughts, so he lets (y/n) force him down on the couch and watch his demon’s newest fascination of American Horror Story.)

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

As always, Izuku seemed to leave the curtains cracked a little open to allow his demon to gaze upon the glittery fabric of a darkened atmosphere.

The crater embellished in the fabric was held stationary to grant permission for the creature to gaze upon it for one of the few nights in the month, as trees locked their gazes at the rock and the illuminations of manmade stars stilled in the moment of time.

And for a moment, (y/n) wondered upon these manmade stars if they could be human.

(Or something close to being human! Though…as cheerful as it sounds; the only way they could be a human is becoming a thief demon.)

But only for a moment they wondered about it.

(And may a divine deity forbid them from thinking about it.)

There’s no room in this house of memories to bring greedy thoughts of freedom into it. However, there is room to ensure that the demon’s companion is safe.

(At least he’s safe now…)

(The demon does worry a lot, but at this point, its quite natural for them to worry about everything when growing up with Izuku.)

Glancing back at the dozing green-haired teenager, the demon sighed.

They couldn’t help releasing a sigh—not because they were relieved— but of the new dangers that may come alongside a quirk and having people to trust for once.

Letting their weightless form ghost towards the edge of Izuku’s bed, with protective intent as clear as the moon in the sky, (y/n) had made note of his serenity etched into the expression of glued tight eyelids with transparent drool beginning its slug trail down his chin and onto the flashy hero pillow.

(If you want to go into detail, it’s an All Might pillow.)

Speaking of heroes, why does Izuku really want to become one? (Y/n) has never seen a moral point to a hero’s duty—other than acquiring fame and money--, so why bother spending three years of your life contributing to a corrupt cause where it eats up your lifespan like a toddler munching on diabetes ridden lollipops.

Sure, (y/n) doesn’t like hero society.

(It’s practically fucked up, what else can they say?)

“Izuku, why do you want to become a hero?” But they don’t hate Izuku’s dream…

(I think…)

“Is it for fame?” They all have unrealistic dreams.

(The demon was speaking out into the void. That’s no surprise, it’s always been like that.)

“Is it for glory?” But that’s what dreams are. They are unrealistic.

(Is the demon right or wrong?)

“Is it for something else?” The demon had an unrealistic dream, so why can’t Izuku have an unrealistic dream?

(Unless both of their dreams weren’t unrealistic.)

Taglist:

CREDITS:

@glitterfreezed @izukubabe @sweater-weather-seven @nyanyabisjjj @quietlegends @dragonsdreamoffire @candybabey @sixofsparrows

All content and art used within this story belongs to their respective owners. PLAGARISM WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!

Art credits: Dorki-C and @glitterfreezed

[MASTERLIST OF “My Guardian Demon”] [MAIN MASTERLIST]

#Izuku Midoriya #Izuku midoriya bnha #Izuku Midoriya mha #Izuku Midoriya X Demon! Reader #Izuku midoriya x y/n #Izuku midoriya x reader #Izuku Midoriya x you #MGD x mha au #MGD au #mha x reader #bnha x reader #Demon! Reader #Dorki's Oneshots

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heyheydidjaknow · 4 years ago

Text

I finished it, finally! Yee fucking haw! It’s not perfect, but I’m not feeling terrible about it, and the next one is going to be fun. Unless something happens, the next chapter should come up on Sunday as planned. Knowing me, it won’t, but I wanna hope. As always, the table of contents and the previous chapter is at the bottom, and a full list of the shit I’ve published is at the bottom of the table of contents. I’ll do a proper proofread tomorrow. Right now, Grammarly and Kami are carrying the team, so if there’s a mistake, take it up with them.

Chapter 14

“I trust you won’t be creepy.”

“I’m thankful.” Yoshi runs his thumb along the rim of his cup slowly. “You have little faith in me, as I understand it.”

You try not to be disrespectful. “Well, things in your life could’ve gone better, right?”

He seems to consider this for a moment. “I suppose so.” He takes a slow drink. “Mistakes from my youth have led to many hardships. Still, though the road has been a long and strenuous one, I would not want to change my past.”

Your untouched drink is cradled in your hands. “You don’t regret anything?”

“It is a foolish and maddening thing, longing for a life unobtainable to you.” He closes his eyes, your own scanning the walls for the photograph you know is in some nook or cranny. “Besides, if things hadn’t happened the way they did, I wouldn’t have my sons.”

You can understand, intellectually, he does not mean to be—and likely is not— as arrogant as you perceive him. Still, something about the way he sits, the way he speaks, even how he looks at you now makes you feel painfully inferior, as if you reacting the way you are makes you somehow beneath him in more than a literal sense.

You decide against arguing the point, eyes flickering from the shrine back to the man in front of you. “I guess that’s true.” You know you are not going to drink any of what he has offered until you have to. “And you’ve always thought like that?”

He nods. “It was what I was taught.”

Nodding, you look back down at your cup, a deafening stillness settling between you two. ‘He convinces me to come here,’ you grumble silently, ‘and all I get for it is a lecture and an awkward silence.’ You look back up at him, setting the clay vessel on the ground and pulling your knees to your chest. ‘I could be doing something else, like fixing my shirt or something.’

“Speaking of them,” he continues, “Donatello tells me you have been experiencing night terrors.”

‘Snitch. Did he tell me he told him?’ “You don’t?”

His eyebrows rise. “Sorry?”

“We have the same trauma,” you explain simply. “Both our families died in fires we caused. Think that counts.”

He does not even flinch. “I’ve never thought of it that way.” He smiles softly. You want to punch him in the face. “I suppose so, yes.”

“You seem pretty calm about it.”

He chuckles at your expression. “I’ve had fifteen years to come to terms with my loss,” he takes another drink. “And,” he jokes, “I was often simply too exhausted to have nightmares back when the wound was fresh; caring for four young boys is tiring, you understand.”

“Right.” You crisscross your legs in front of you. “Yeah, the makes sense.”

“Having said that,” he continues, voice lowering, “I can’t imagine going through what I did at your age.” He sighs. “If something like that happened to one of my boys at this age, I can’t honestly say how they would cope.”

‘Poorly. I’d guess they’d cope poorly.’

“I understand that you and I have differences in ideals and morals.”

“You could say that.” Your mouth stretches into a wry smile. “I honestly only started hangin’ with and helpin’ y’all as a way to make up for my manslaughter. With this exception, I live by the adage, ‘Not my circus, not my monkeys.’”

“As I said,” he covers his mouth to hide his amusement, “we differ in that respect. I take it that’s why, when Donatello explained the situation—” you break eye contact—“he was unable to explain in any sort of detail what they were about.”

“Not his circus not his monkeys. ‘Sides,” you shrug, “he was already being really caring and understanding, and I was already sobbing my eyes out, which I’m sure he already told you, so.”

You stare down at your tea. “Are you going to elaborate?”

“Not if I don’t have to, no.” Your face heats up.

“Do you want my help?”

‘I hate this,’ you squirm. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be here if Donnie hadn’t asked me to.”

“For someone who believes in leaving people to their own devices,” he notes, “you seem to value the requests of my son a great deal.”

Your knees are back up to your chest. “He’s important to me. He’s been there for me. It’s the least I can do.”

He takes a beat to gather his thoughts. You brace yourself for a lecture.

“You care for him, then.”

You nod once, treading carefully.

“Romantically?”

You still do not look at him directly, staring instead at the gorgeous screen door. “I dunno.” Your fingernails scratch at the surface. “I’m not exactly in my right mind, you understand.”

“I can’t say I do.” A pause as he takes another drink. “Then again, I’ve only felt for one woman all my life.”

“Look at that,” you try to joke. “Another difference between us.”

“Do you mind letting me in, then?”

“A little,” you admit, “but I will since there isn’t really a point to being here if I don’t.”

“That’s the spirit.” You can hear his smile.

You set the cup down again, glancing up at him before fiddling with the laces on your shoe. “People under stress and without anywhere else to turn tend to latch onto the first people they relate to,” you explain, practicing your knot tying with fumbling fingers; there is no harm in practicing your dexterity. “He was the first guy I met after I died, got kidnapped, and almost got killed by a giant vine creature. I like him,” you clarify quickly, “I really do, but it’s hardly fair to pursue that sort of relationship, especially considering everything going on with the Kraang and Shredder.” Your eyes go out of focus. “We get along great,” you mumble. “He’s sweet, kind, generous, and empathetic. He deserves to make sense of his feeling properly without me muddying things up with my possibly trauma-induced attachment.”

“So,” he clarifies, “it is not that you aren’t in love with him, but, instead, you’re worried for his sake?”

Your face goes scarlet as you choke on your saliva. “T-that’s a bit—uh—extreme, isn’t it?” You rub the back of your burning neck. “I’m not even sixteen, Yoshi. You don’t understand love properly at sixteen!”

“I fell for my wife at thirteen,” he smiles. “It’s certainly not impossible.”

“That’s—look,” you protest, “that is entirely besides the point. The point,” you state, “is that is completely irresponsible for me to pursue a relationship with your son. Frankly, I’m surprised you don’t agree.”

“He cares for you. You know that. Who am I to decide who he does and does not pursue, especially when that person makes him happy?” He reaches for a worn kettle sitting between you two on a table, pouring its contents back into his teacup—you remember Leo telling you that it is technically called a yunomi. “I find love typically does no harm so long as it does not consume you. Moderation is key.”

You look up at him. “So, you don’t have any reservations about it?”

He takes another drink. “I wouldn’t say that. He is my son, after all. In truth,” he admits, “I was more concerned that my sons would never experience what I did than anything. Given the circumstances of our existence, I’m sure you can understand my wish to give them a relatively normal, happy life.”

You sigh. “I guess, yeah.” You adjust your blanket again. ‘Seems counterintuitive, teaching them the art of murder, but I guess that’s his normal.’ “That’s just a generally good parenting thing though, right? I’d hope you’d want that even if you weren’t a giant rat and they weren’t anthropomorphic turtles.”

A parent. He is talking to you like one might speak to their kid.

“I suppose so,” he nods. “It’s been difficult, but we’ve certainly come a long way over the years.”

The screeching of tires pierces the still air, the chattering of his four sons bouncing off the concrete walls.

You strain to hear what they are saying. “I never noticed that there was an echo in here. It’s less noticeable than in the tunnel.”

“That’s by design,” he explains. “I’ve made something of an effort to dampen it.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” You set the yunomi on the table. You sigh, holding your breath and downing your now gross, cool tea in three quick gulps. “I hate to cut this short,” you lie, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and tottering to your feet, “but I’ve gotta check to make sure everything went smoothly on their mission and adjust my timetable accordingly.”

He nods, deciding not to point your tell out. “I won’t keep you, then. Would you like to borrow my cane?”

This is not the first time he has offered. You, of course, refuse.

“Oh well. I thought I’d offer.” He sets his cup down, staying seated. “It has been pleasant talking with you, Y/N.”

“Likewise, Mr. Hamato.” You nod once in acknowledgment, hopping over to the door and slipping out into the hallway.

Your stomach churns at the stench coming from the lab—you can smell the gasoline. You lean against the wall, making a pointed effort not to eavesdrop and rapping your knuckles against the door. Their voices immediately lower to hisses and someone drags the door open.

“Hey,” Mikey beams. “We were just talking about you. Need somethin’?”

“Just is an over-exaggeration.” There is a considerable amount of protest as Donnie pulls him away from the door with an uncomfortable edge to his voice. “P-please, come in.”

A beaten DIY van sits pathetically on the subway track, looking not dissimilar to a burnt, crushed soda can from where you stand. The once hot pink graffiti has most certainly seen better days, and you squirm at the thought of the sound it must have made if you understand the situation properly. Raphael, who you glance at out of the corner of your eye, looks similarly beat up. Of course, you are not going to say anything because you value your life.

You whistle, smiling incredulously. “So,” you try not to laugh, “I take it you took on the cucaracha.”

“Made it my bitch is what I did,” boasts Raphael. “Shot it with a laser.”

“Cool, cool.” You chuckle at his excitement. “You take care of the egg?”

Is there a better sight than watching the light in someone’s soul die? You would hesitantly say no. “The what?”

“Right outside the building,” you elaborate. “On the side of the road. Looks like a horrifying imitation of an orbee?’

He takes a slow, deep breath, holds it, exhales. “I’ll be right back,” he says calmly, and sprints out of the lair.

Michelangelo laughs. “Were you being serious or are you messing with him?”

“Serious.” You readjust the blanket, trying to subtly figure out how to breathe without being assaulted by the mechanical smell. “I won’t joke about that sort of thing. It’s cruel.”

He hesitates. “… speaking of, are you alright? I didn’t get to ask before.”

The other two are quietly watching the interaction with an odd amount of intensity.

You shrug. “I guess. Probably.”

“Alright,” he nods. “Just lemme know if you need to talk, alright? Donnie’s no—ow!”

“Don’t talk bad about people in front of them,” Leonardo criticizes. “It’s rude.”

“You called him special, like, four hours ago!”

“The word of the day is hypocrisy.” Donatello puts his hand down.

“Hypocrisy’s right” You rub Mikey’s shell reassuringly. “To be fair, though, Leo could honestly probably just dodge it anyway.”

He leans into it. “I guess,” he grumbles, shooting a look at Donatello. “Favoritism.”

“It’s strategic favoritism,” the tallest brother corrects. “It’s to encourage parti pris.”

“Cronyism,” you tease, grinning. “You mean cronyism.”

“Hey, I’m plenty qualified!”.

You stifle a giggle as his face reddens, looking back over at the battered vehicle, raising an eyebrow.

“That was a team effort.”

“Yeah, okay, Hamato.” You blow a strand out of your face. “How long do you think it’ll take to fix?”

“Half a week? Maybe a bit less.” He looks back at it ruefully. “The spy roach completely jacked it.”

“Clearly.” You remove your hand, Mikey seemingly thoroughly comforted. “Then mind if I borrow a needle and thread so I can fix my jacket? I have school tomorrow.”

“Do you have the dexterity for that?” Leo crosses his arms across his chest absentmindedly.

“If I can hold a pencil,” you reason, “I can do basic stitching. ‘Sides, it’s only gotta hold until I get home.”

“I didn’t know you sewed.”

“I don’t. That’s why I’m asking now.”

Donatello pipes up again. “I really don’t mind—”

“Dude,” you reason, “you have to fix a whole ass van. I’ll manage.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket. “It’s a quarter to twelve. You won’t finish before midnight.”

“Then sucks to be me.” You shrug. “I’ll fix it here and walk home.”

He looks at you with a surprising amount of incredulousness. “It’s New York City.”

“You go out at night all the time,” you protest.

“I can carry you—”

Immediate panic. “Nah, I’m good!” You try to sound confident. “I walk home all the time, remember?”

“Not at midnight.”

“What’s a couple hours difference?” You would rather get attacked or kidnapped than fly over buildings again.

“A hundred-twenty minutes,” he states. “You know that crime is statistically more likely to happen at night, right?”

“That tracks. What’s different?”

“Violent crime peaks at midnight.”

Mikey butts in. “Why can’t she just go in the blanket? It covers enough.”

Donatello rolls his eyes. “Mikey,” he sighs, “she’s a teenage girl walking around with her torso covered by a single conspicuous quilt. Let’s use our heads here.”

It takes him a minute. “So you’re worried about her getting, like, attacked?”

“… were you paying attention to any of the conversation? Or the lesson we just learned?”

“Dude,” he protests, “when do I ever?”

“What, you mean the one where y’all learned to face your fears or the one where talking about people in front of them is rude?”

The bitter edge to your words is not lost on him. “Look,” he reasons with you, “I-I’m not saying you’re incapable of taking care of yourself—”

“You are, but that’s not the point.”

“Shut up, Mikey.” You are surprised he did not punch him, though, admittedly, you can hardly argue the point. “What I mean is that if you put yourself in harm’s way, you’re going to get hurt.” He nods at Leo. “He’s a really experienced fighter and even he gets overwhelmed if he goes out of his way to do something reckless and dangerous like Karai.” He spits out her name like it is poisonous.

“Since when have you had a thing against Karai?”

The eldest brother sighs. “I’m never living that down, am I?”

“Unimportant, and nope. Point is,” he continues, fingers twitching at his sides, “it doesn’t make sense to tempt fate.”

You open your mouth to argue. You close it again. He has an extremely valid point all things considered, especially considering everything that has been happening, and although you are completely certain about your stance on him carrying you home, you would be lying if you said the idea of stumbling home without your walker or shirt sounds very appealing.

“Then what exactly are you suggesting?”

He looks off. “I’m suggesting she stays the night, Leo.”

Mikey blinks. “What, in your room or on the couch?”

“It would be up to her.”

That works for you. “Your home. You pick. Where do you keep your sewing supplies?” You slip out of the circle the four of you have formed.

“On top of the bookshelf,” he points. “Behind the cardboard box.”

You nod, hopping over.

Mikey offers his two cents. “It makes more sense for you two to share a room. It’s kinda cold in the front room, and you guys’ll probably end up going to bed at around the same time anyways. She also has your blanket.”

You stand on your toes, fingertips brushing against a plastic container.

“That’s a fair point.” You catch it before it cracks open on the ground. “Training starts pretty early, so she should have time to grab her things before school.”

“See? Foolproof plan.”

“Would Master Splinter approve?”

“Leo,” you call over your shoulder, “he’s slept over at my house twice already. I really doubt he cares.”

“But we don’t know.”

“Then you can go ask him.” You turn around. “Where’s the jacket?”

“In the cardboard box.” Donnie starts towards the train wreck on the tracks.

You pull it down, taking your shirt and jacket and sitting down, crossing your bad leg under the one you can use, despite the nausea. ‘Exposure therapy.’ “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

You feel a tap on your shoulder. You glance up at Mikey, who crouches down next to you as Leo waves to his brothers and leaves. “You need anything?”

He shakes his head. “Just wanted to hang out with you is all,” he shrugs. “You didn’t go after Donnie.”

“I didn’t,” you nod in agreement.

“Why?”

“Because car.” You unlatch the box, carefully digging around inside for some pins. “That, and the smell is bad enough from over here.”

He crosses his legs in front of him. “That’s fair.” He taps his foot absentmindedly. “You think he knows?”

“I thought I made it pretty damn clear,” you shrug, “but it’s Donnie, so I wouldn’t bet on it.”

He grins at that. “Then do you wanna hang out while you work on that out front? He isn’t exactly talkative when he gets in the zone.”

You shake your head. “If I do, I won’t get much done,” you admit. You unwind a long portion of the thread, snapping it apart. “Besides, the only way to get over a fear is to face it head-on.”

“Alright.” He hops to his feet. “Thought I’d ask. Have fun.”

”Bet,” you mumble through a bit tongue, shaky fingers making threading the needle almost impossible. “You too.”

“See ya.” He waves, running out of the lab.

You let out a breath, picking a piece of loose wire off of a table and creating a poor imitation of a threader. While you genuinely enjoy talking with Michelangelo, you have some things to think over.

Clumsy fingers start on a running stitch. If your timetable still holds true—which, surprisingly enough, it has thus far—the episode after next’s plot will take place in about three weeks. Your cast is coming off in two. You do not know where and when The Kraang are coming through their portal, or if there is any way for you guys to know, but seeing as you are skipping the episode where the turtles get stuck in a labyrinth under the assumption that, without Baxter being bullied by the Shredder and his goons, he has no reason to construct it, you would tentatively estimate the next episode will happen in about a week. You are still fairly sure that Stockman will not get involved with the Shredder without his input until Oroku finally opens his eyes to the dangers and powers of the Kraang, which should happen around the same time as the next episode.

Your eyes glaze over as you get into the groove of it. ‘The next episode is also when the guys get on Karai’s shit list because they betray her, and, if that happens, the episode where the Shredder starts getting involved with the Kraang and comes to appreciate their resources." You prick your finger. ‘It wouldn’t be long after that before Saki gets the idea to create a mutant army, and with Baxter already somewhat on the villainous map, our best chance to make sure he doesn’t end up under his employment is to…’

You wipe the sticky liquid on your jeans, careful of the bandages on your back. ‘It’s not a guarantee that he even knows Baxter exists.’ Your eyebrows furrow in concentration as you try to keep the stitches separated at equal distances. ‘Hell, it’s not a guarantee he’s even alive. Still, it’s better to air on the side of caution and not think about how you’ll have to do it until the time comes.’

You let out a soft sigh. “I’ll buy a gun, when that happens,” you murmur to yourself. “Just want more time where bodily harm is all I have to deal with is all.”

You slide your poorly stitched jacket over your shoulders under the blanket, pulling your sleeves into place and zipping it up. After folding the blanket up and draping it over your arm, you pull yourself to your feet, hopping over to Donatello and his death trap as he sat down, looking over his work. “How’re the repairs comin’?”

The two of you have not spoken for the three hours it took you to repair the jacket, and significantly more progress has been made on his end than yours. At the very least, the generally rectangular frame was pounded back into submission.

He looks over at you, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and stifling a yawn. “Fine,” he sighs, looking back at the hulking mass of metal as you lower yourself down next to him. “It won’t blow up or anything if it’s driven, but it still needs another day’s worth of work to get it back to where it was before.” You nod along as he goes into more intimate detail, not understanding half of it, but happy to just listen to him talk resentfully about the whole process that you can tell he genuinely does not mind.

“Sounds like a time.” You rest your head on your good knee. “And you’re not gonna fix the graffiti?”

“It rubs off,” he shrugs. “Besides, it’s not exactly important to the design.”

Your head bends in a subtle nod, cheek numb from the pressure of your knee. “Are you going to sleep today?”

He shrugs. “Maybe? It wouldn’t be a bad idea.” His legs are almost crisscrossed in front of him, and he leans his weight back on his skinny, muscular arms. “I honestly don’t want to leave it alone, though. It would be weird to just leave it unfinished.

“Hardly, but alright.” You sit up for a moment, handing him back his quilt. “Thanks for giving me something to cover myself up with, and for not ditching me on a roof, and patching me up, and—I owe you, is what I’m getting at.”

He smiles tiredly. “Don’t worry about it, really,” he reassures you, his face flushing and muscles relaxing slightly. “You’ve made it up plenty.”

“I disagree. I’ve never saved your life.” You trace the fading lines on your cast his brother had left.

“I don’t think a ton of people would literally kill someone for me and my family,” he argues. “That’s pretty awesome, right?”

‘Not sure how I feel about framing murder as a positive thing.’ You do not say anything, looking back at his work.

He sighs. “You should go to bed,” he advises practically. “It’s getting late.”

“Never stopped you.” You straighten your legs. “I’ll go if you come with.”

“Tempting,” he teases with a sudden burst of confidence, hoping to his feet and outstretching his arm to help you up, “but what’s in it for me?”

Your face lights up as your face goes red at his borderline roguishness, taking his arm pulling yourself up. “For as much shit as you’re going to get for it,” you promise, pecking where his nose would be with an almost kittenish smile, “I’ll get up extra early, make everyone breakfast, and go topside for coffee.”

His face almost turns the shade of a human blush, forwardness gone in an instant. “C-can’t,” he stutters, clearly flustered. “When I was eleven, I got addicted to it and I’m not allowed to have any anymore.”

“Relatable,” you giggle. You blow the hair out of your face, comfortable as he helps you walk towards the door, the air between you two charged with electricity. “Is that for all caffeine or just coffee?”

He opens it for the two of you, ever the gentleman with the quilt over his shoulder. “Tea’s fine. Don’t bring tea down, though,” he quickly clarifies. “Leo’ll have a very inconspicuous fit.”

You blink curiously, looking up at him as he pulls you along. “Why?”

“It’s the one food thing he’s particular about,” he shrugs, not bothering to hide his gooey smile as you use his upper arm for support. “Couldn’t tell you why.”

“Are you particular about any foodstuff?”

“Not really?” He helps you up a few steps. “I’m not Mikey, but I don’t think I’m that picky about that sort of thing.”

“That’s fair.”

You do not let go of his arm to use the wall. You do not even think to if Donnie is reading your body language correctly. His smile widens as he opens the door for you.

You give a nod as thanks, lowering down onto the foot of his relatively narrow bed. “Alright,” you clap your hands together quietly as he sits next to you. “How do you wanna do this?”

You are sitting on his bed, willing, with no pretense other than sleeping getter. He is currently on cloud nine.

You look back at the frame. ”Too narrow for us to lay side by side,” you note. “You sleep on your front, meaning you will likely take up most of the room." You look between him and the bed, trying to imagine a position that would work. “You could lay on top of me, I guess, but then your legs would hang off the end.”

“I can sleep on my side,” he offers hurriedly. “If that makes things easier, I mean.”

“You sure?” Your fingers fumble with your shoelaces.

He nods eagerly. “S-so long as you still don’t mind being close to me, I mean. The bed’s still kinda narrow.”

You roll your eyes, smiling. “We’ve slept together before,” you reason. “If you wanted to pull anything, you would’ve the other two times.”

He glances off, face still red. “Y-yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “That makes sense.”

You gesture to the bed. “Then,” you nod once, “so long as you’re comfortable, you lay down. I’ll work from there.”

He tentatively lays himself down, facing the wall, tensing ever so slightly as you lay behind him, legs curling up under his thighs.

You lay your arm under your head as a pillow, the other pulling the blanket over the two of you. “This work,” you whisper, closing your eyes.

“Mhm,” he hums, covering his face with his hands. “We closed the door, right?”

You look back over. “Yup.”

“Locked it?”

“Seems so.”

He relaxes a bit. “Alright,” he nods, quietly reveling in the way your fingers, again, traced the indentations in his shell like the first night.

‘When I wake up tomorrow,’ he realizes, ‘she’ll be right there. Right behind me, in my bed. By choice.’ He smiles behind his fingers. ‘When we get older, maybe we could have our own place. Or our own room, more accurately, where she just lives with us. Imagine her moving in. If—no, when,’ he corrects himself, ‘we defeat The Shredder, if I ever get the nerve, I’ll ask her.’ He reaches his leg back, entangling it with yours carefully. ‘Would we have to get married first? No, you move in before you get married, right? I should’ve paid more attention during those movie marathons.’ He closes his eyes as you drift off, focusing on this train of thought. ‘How long do you need to be in a relationship before you get married? How would we get married, even? Legally, that would be impossible, right? I can’t go to a courthouse. And if we had a child—practically speaking, of course—would they live with us or go to a public school? We could give them a good education, I’m sure, but—’

You shift in your sleep, absently laying your arm over his side and pulling him closer.

He exhales, allowing himself to relax back into you. ‘Not tonight.’ He rests his hand on top of yours. ‘It’s too late, too soon.’ His thumb runs along the back of your hand, letting himself drift off in your arms.

‘It’ll be okay. We’ll last long enough to take it slow.’

Table of Contents

Chapter 13

Chapter 15

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amphxtrite · 4 years ago

Text

3 • Hurricane

series summary: alone almost everyday from the moment you were born, thrown to the side by everyone in society because of who your parents were and who you were said to be, a death eater. Your parents were to of the most powerful dark wizards ever known and because of that you were shunned everywhere you went. When the hufflepuff golden boy sees you for the first time and falls, but is he willing to be judged, feared, and hated, and how far will he go, To Be At Her Side.

chapter summary: everything seemed to be going well, for a short amount of time everything felt right. cedric had grown closer to you and became a friend. But all good things come to an end, and yours came with something you could have never seen or expected.

warnings: flashbacks, mentions of violence, threats.

tag list: @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @hoe4cedricdiggory @queenl04 @persephone-archives @0niko-san @annasdani @joalinbenefits @awritingtree @confuscita @badgal-jackie @cedricsfluffyhair @degeathesaviour

word count: 3.9k

a/n: there’s quite a lot to absorb in this chapter, but I love how it turned out!

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

“In the eye of the hurricane, there is quiet for just a moment.”

Before every storm, there is a calm. When everything feels right, everything seems to fall into place. You think everythings is going to be alright.

And for a while it was.

You had someone beside you, a friend you could nod at in the hallways, or talk about homework with, and it was enough. You spent your entire life doing everything alone, and suddenly it all changed. A grey eyed hufflepuff had managed to sneak into your lonely existence and put a smile on your face. It was sweetly excruciating. You were truly grateful for his company, and enjoyed having Cedric around, it was just hard showing him that, when you had never had a friend before. You were in forigen territory and you could tell Cedric found it hilarious.

You’d catch him smirking when you struggled to ask him for assistance with anything, but in the end, he’d always help you through it, reassuring you and putting up with your awkward demeanor and your confusion towards his jokes.

“Come on y/n, you’re supposed to laugh!” Cedric chuckles, clutching his stomach as you stare on at him, book clutched in your grip as you cock your head sideways.

“Oh- um… Haha.” You deadpan, flicking your attention back to the novel residing in your hands as Cedric rolls his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what jokes are either.” He huffs, standing from the table and plucking the book from your hands.

“I was raised alone, Cedric. Not under a rock.” You comment with a small smirk, swiping it back and pressing back the pages Cedric had wrinkled.

“Okay, okay. We’ve been here all day though, can we please at least go to the courtyard, my legs are starting to go numb from sitting in this bloody chair.” Cedric pouts, glancing longingly out the windows.

“I don’t see why not.” You shrug, shutting your book and picking up your bag. “You’re sure about being seen with me?” You inquire softly.

“You don’t have to ask that everytime we go somewhere y/n.” The brunette huffs with a smile and a light shake of his head.

“Just need to make sure.” You remark, pursing your lips.

You never would get used to walking the halls with someone. A friend.

You could tell Cedric’s struggles about being seen with you grew less and less apparent as your friendship progressed. You even dealt with less harassment from your peers as Cedric spent more time with you. Aside from the occasional scoff or glare from one of Cedric’s admirers or a person that hates you, everything was going alright.

You round the corner to the clocktower courtyard, drop yourself onto the stone structure and pull out the transfigurations homework you had yet to finish.

“Oh no you don’t!” Cedric sighs, taking your hands and plucking the papers away. You flinch back at the sudden contact.

Cedric’s eyes widen as he realizes what he did. “Oh my goodness, y/n I’m so sorry.”

“N-No, Cedric it’s alright. You just scared me is all.” You reassure, brushing it off with a light chuckle.

Cedric’s tensed shoulders begin to relax and he offers his hand to you again. “I still think it’s too early for homework. How about a walk around instead?” Cedric suggests, smiling to himself as you roll your eyes, but eventually take his outstretched hand.

“I guess a walk wouldn’t hurt.”

The afternoon faded to evening, but Cedric continued to walk around the Hogwarts ground with you. He laughed and joked, ran around the trees and dipped his hands into the freezing cold lake, while you stood beside him and allowed a small grin on your face as you breathed in the summer air and enjoyed the soft breeze.

Everything was perfect, everything felt right, everything except the strange pink coat that dusted Cedric’s cheeks whenever he’d managed to make you smile. You had no idea what that could possibly be, so you chose to ignore it. Cedric seemed so happy, it must be from all his running around.

“Hey Ced, it’s almost dinner, we should probably head back to the castle now.” You sigh as the sun became no more than a bright line in the purple stained sky.

“Oh alright.” He chuckles, standing from his spot on the field. “For you.” He smiles as he lifts a small white wildflower to your face.

You smile at the small bloom and reach your hand out to take it between your fingers when a sense of strange dread washes over you.

You freeze as the feeling passes, a mix of being watched and being cursed. Cedric doesn’t seem to notice at first, but as your eyes glass over and your hand freezes, he knows something is up.

He hears a rustle from the outskirts of the forbidden forest and two blurry shadows emerge.

“Y/n, we have to go now!” He whispers hurriedly as you snap yourself out of your daze and nod. Cedric tucks the wildflower behind your ear and creeps behind the large bushes with you in tow. The two of you are quick to make a mad dash as soon as you’re out of immediate sight of whatever creature was lurking on the edge of the forest, and entering the familiar, warm hallways of Hogwarts.

“D-Did you feel that too?” You ask over the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Feel what?”

“That we were being watched! L-Like someone was going to hex us.” You stammer, glancing back every few moments at the strange burning feeling at the back of your neck.

“No… Maybe you’re just tired y/n, I’ll walk you back to your common room.” Cedric sighs, rubbing the back of his neck and pulling his cloak a little closer to his body despite the warm temperature.

You nod gently and begin the walk down to the slytherin common room, removing the flower from your hair and gently playing with the petals.

“Anyways, do you have any plans for the summer?” Cedric chimes in an attempt to rid of the thought hanging limp in your mind.

“Y/n?” He questions again when you don’t respond.

“Hm? Oh, usually I spend the summers at my old house, after I grew old enough the orphanage kicked me out and the ministry allows me to live by myself under strict conditions.” You sigh, thinking of the loneliness you would have to endure after school ended for holidays later this month.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. If anything it’s still better than being stuck in the orphanage that did not want me.” You murmur, pursing your lips and sticking the blossom behind your ear again.

“I-I don’t mean to intrude, but do you ever… Miss your parents?” Cedric inquires softly.

You pause for a moment, choosing your words carefully.

“Every child misses their parents when they’re away. The problem is I barely knew my parents so I miss them in a different way.” You begin. Cedric looks at you to continue.

“If... You’re given a present on Christmas, but you aren’t allowed to open it, or know what’s inside, then obviously you’d be very upset. But as you go about your holiday, people tell you what they believe is inside the present. They tell you horrible things, and now you wonder if you really do want to open your gift.” You sigh, rounding the last corner to your common room. “They’re my parents, I obviously miss them. It’s just I don’t know what to think after all that’s happened through my life.” you pause, curling your hands into fists and letting out a loud sigh.

“Thanks for walking me back Cedric, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You nod to the brunette, whispering the password and stepping into the empty common room. Everyone must still be at dinner.

Cedric looks as though he wants to say more so you wait with an expecting look.

“I- good night y/n.”

“Good night Cedric.” You respond, allowing the door to creak to a close behind you.

Cedric curses himself in front of the door. This wasn’t how he had wanted that to go. He could have said anything, called you beautiful, invited you to go to the great hall to get some food before you went to bed, anything would have been better than stuttering out a goodnight!

He was just so deep in thought thinking about your story. How little people really chose to know and understand about you. He walked away with joy about the day’s activities, but also with a new feeling of disappointment and worry.

You collapse into your four poster with a light smile on your face as you hold the small flower in your hand and bring it to your nose again. Earthy rain and sweet petals fill your nose as you replay your day with Cedric over and over again. It was nice to have a friend like him in your life, but a strange feeling in your stomach gave you a new kind of sensation. One you hadn’t felt before, and you liked it.

As the great authors you’d read would say, it was like butterflies swarming her stomach, a loss for words when you looked into his eyes and the urge to hold him in your arms.

“No, Cedric is just a friend.” You laugh to yourself, hoping tomorrow would be just as amazing as today.

You lift your wand from your pocket and run your fingers across the beautiful design, breathing deeply as you cast a charm to keep the flower from wilting. You smile and set the blossom on your desk when a small crack brings your attention back to the real world, and a short cackle makes your blood run cold.

“Well, well, well. It’s been a long time, trouble.” A breathy high pitched voice rings from the shadows in the corner of your room.

“Oh do be nice darling, poor thing probably doesn’t remember who we are.” A lower, deeper voice calls from beside her.

You raise your wand again, this time with more malicious intentions than to charm a flower.

“Who are you? A-And what are you doing in my dorm?” You demand, pointing it back a forth from the man and woman in the pair.

“Oh poppet.” The woman laughs, stepping out of the dark corner.

“After everything we’ve done to get back to you that hardly seems the appropriate response.” She smiles.

Your jaw drops and as the man steps out from behind the curtain of darkness your hand flies to your locket. It couldn’t be! Your parents were locked away in Azkaban! How in Merlin’s name could they possibly be standing in front of you in Hogwarts of all places.

Your head snaps up and down towards the clean cut couple in the locket to the crazed, disgruntled pair standing before you.

“You…”

“Oh look dear, she still has the locket.” Your mother exclaims, pulling on your father's tattered sleeve as he nods slowly.

Your mother takes another step closer, and you can see the dirt and grime smeared on her face, the longing look in her eyes. She looked exhausted, but psychotic at the same time. You glance over at your father, but he makes no move. Stoic, as your mother creeps closer to you in the most disturbing manner, almost as if she were sizing up her prey.

“Sixteen long years we’ve been kept apart.” She breathes heavily, finally reaching you and running the back of her hand down your cheek.

“Kept away by those imbeciles at the ministry.” She continues using a mocking tone at the word ministry, lifting your chin up and inspecting your face.

“You’ve grown so much, trouble. Those disgusting little creatures will pay for what they’ve done.” She growls. “All will be well when the dark lord rises again.”

Your jaw drops and your blood runs with fear. “H-He’s coming back?!”

Your mother giggles as if you’ve just said the most hilarious thing and looks at you as though you were a puppy.

“Of course darling! And when he rules, everything will be right again. Order restored.” She cackles. “You’ll be with us again poppet, we promise.” Your father finally speaks, his cracked lips pulling into a dangerous smile.

“Severus will watch over you for the time being, at least until they know we’re gone.” You mother giggles again. “It was nice to see you again poppet.” Your mother smiles darkly.

“Now rest.” She demands, pushing her wand against your forehead and watching as you collapse against the mattress.

“Are you sure we can’t bring her with us, Diana?” Your father asks with a sigh.

“She’ll have her time when she’s ready, Anguis. Now I told Narcissa to take her for the summer, she’ll be safe with the Malfoys for now.” She smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“When the Dark Lord rises again, we can be the family we were meant to be.” She promises softly pushing the hair on your face behind your ear. “She looks just like us Anguis.”

“Yes, I suppose she does.” He nods.

“Now let’s go, before someone senses us.” Your mother sighs, flicking her wand.

“Hush my darling, don’t say a word. Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird, and If that mockingbird don’t sing. Papa’s gonna send you a hurricane, and if that hurricane won’t strike. I’ll kill them myself, don’t you strife.”

Your mother’s lullaby.

She’d sing it to you every night as you lay in the crib.

She was in the middle of singing it when the Aurors came and took them away. You could hear your parent’s screams as they were forced to the ground and taken away. Why were you remembering this now? What was happening...

“Y/n wake up.” A low, hushed voice whispers pulling you from your memory.

Your eyes blink rapidly as you adjust your eyes to the light.

“Mr. Severus? What are you doing here.” You question, wondering why the head of house was standing in your room.

“To keep the other students from attempting to kill you.” He states plainly placing a newspaper down into your lap.

‘Anguis and Diana L/n have escaped Azkaban, please keep a lookout for these two wizards.’ The headline read with the mugshots of your parents staring maliciously back at you.

“So it wasn’t a dream…”

“They came here didn’t they?” Snape sighs, flicking his wand to pack your suitcase with all your belongings. “Yes, what are you doing? How did you-”

“They weren’t supposed to stop here. Now Dumbledore knows they want you and he’s asked you to leave early.” Snape explains. “You’ll be staying with Narcissa and Lucius until we get this figured out, let’s go to Dumbledore’s office so we can Floo you there.” Snape sighs, ushering you out the door with your suitcase in tow.

Everything seems silent at first, but as soon as the door to the common room opens, you’re met with an eruption of shouting.

“This is all your fault!”

“My family is going to die because of you!”

“Death Eater! Death Eater!”

Were all common screams that were thrown your way. You kept your head down and followed Professor Snape’s flowing black robe as he did his best to keep the rest of the students at bay.

You did have to endure a couple of hits, but it was nothing you weren’t already used to.

“She’s going to blow us up like her parents did to the ministry!”

“Send her to Azkaban!”

“That’s enough!” Snape booms, his wand pressed against his throat must’ve meant he was using sonorus, and the students go quiet, they must not have realized he was there. You move behind him so you can continue on your way without the glares and shouts.

“T-They don’t know where I’m going do they?” You ask, worrying for the Malfoy’s.

“No Y/n, besides Lucius was rather eager to invite you. He and your father are rather close.”

“I just-”

“No one will come for the Malfoy’s. They made sure to keep your relocation a secret. You’ll still be back at Hogwarts next year.” He reassures.

You nod and your ears prick up at the sound of heavy breathing and several footfalls.

“Get out of my way! Y/n!” A familiar soft voice calls for you. Cedric.

“Shove off Tartal! Y/n, there you are.” The brunette gasps, catching his breath as he comes up behind you. “Cedric I-”

“Mister Diggory that’s quite enough. All of you get to your classes!” Snape seethes as most of the students disperse with disapproving expressions.

“Wait! Take this, please.” Cedric exclaims, passing you a piece of parchment as you gently take his hand into yours. “Cedric. Stay safe.” You smile, squeezing your intertwined hands.

“I’ll see you next year! I promise!” The brunette whispers one last time before walking to his next class.

‘Write to me.’ The slip read with his address printed in neat handwriting.

You smile as Snape ushers you forwards murmuring the password to the Headmaster’s office and walking up the winding stairs.

You finally reach the top to find the Head of Houses all standing around the room with Dumbledore at his desk in the middle.

“Ah Miss L/n. I do hope you know this is a mere precaution we must take to protect the school.” Dumbledore’s calm voice calls to you as you enter.

“O-Of course sir.” You nod, keeping your head down low as you notice the other teachers looking at you with tensed expression.

“Follow me Y/n.” Snape sighs, shooting the other teacher's death glares as he ushers you to the raging fire and hands you a bowl of floo powder.

“You know what to do.”

You nod and take a handful. Throwing it into the flames you step into the now green flames, tuck your arms into your side and as clearly as you can say your destination.

“Malfoy Manor.”

And in a puff of smoke you were gone.

“Severus-”

“She’s just a child and you know that. All of you know that.” He seethes, stomping out of the office.

You had never met the afamed Malfoys. You knew that they must have been close enough to your family for Draco to nod ‘hello’ every once in a while, but it wasn’t until you emerged from the pristine fireplace did you realize how close your parents really were to Lucius and Narcissa.

“Oh Lucius, y/n is here!” A woman’s soft voice calls from beside the fireplace. That must be Narcissa. “Ah, the young L/n. Nice to finally meet you.” A man answers back, walking into the room and up to you to shake your hand. Lucius, you could see the resemblance to Draco.

“Mr and Mrs. Malfoy, It’s a pleasure.” You smile, shaking Lucius’s hand and turning to Narcissa. “Oh y/n, there’s no need for this kind of formality with your family.” She smiles, wrapping you in a hug.

You tense as your heart drops to your stomach and your vision begins to swim and cloud. How could you have other family members? You were left alone for sixteen bloody years...

“F-Family?”

“Did you not know? Your mother is my sister darling.” Narcissa laughs, running her hand down your head.

Your eyebrows furrow.

“Y-You mean to tell me I’ve spent sixteen years helplessly alone, and I’ve had family this entire time?” You question, pulling back from Narcissa’s arms.

Her eyes widen and you can feel the atmosphere in the room change. “Oh my Merlin, y/n no! We were already being watched by the ministry, we couldn’t take you in while we were still being trialled for Azkaban as well!” She explains hurriedly.

“Your parents knew we had no real involvement with any big events, so they wanted us to wait until we were truly clear to look after you!” She finishes, noticing the look of pain written all over your features.

“We’ve finally got the ministry off our backs dear, you can stay here now.”

“She’s telling the truth y/n, this was for the better.” Lucius sighs, placing a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to be reassuring, but you felt rather queasy instead.

You fake a smile and clear your throat.

“Where will I be staying? I-I’m rather tired and would like to lay down.” You nod, chewing on your bottom lip and doing your best to keep yourself upright.

“Oh! Of course dear, please follow me.” Narcissa smiles warmly, leading you up a staircase as your suitcase floats up behind you.

You round a corner to a lightly furnished room near the back of the Manor and step inside.

“Get some rest, I’ll call someone to fetch you when dinner is ready.” Narcissa sighs, nodding and wrapping you in another short hug. You don’t know how to reciprocate so you pat her back gently and she lets go.

“It’s good to have you with us Y/n, it’s truly been too long.” She nods, leaving you to unpack your belongings.

“A-And I hope you understand, I do truly apologize for how long it took.” She comments sadly as you sit on the bed with an unreadable expression.

“No- No, it’s alright Aunt Narcissa. I-I’m glad you told me.” You murmur, popping open the clasp to your suitcase.

The woman seems relieved by this and she smiles, finally closing the door and walking back downstairs.

You couldn’t believe everything that had happened in less than 24 hours. Your parents escaped Azkaban, came to visit you and the next thing you knew you were shipped out to the Malfoy’s where you discovered they had been family, who left you alone for sixteen years.

You couldn’t exactly stay mad at them though. Narcissa was right, Draco would have lost his parents too if they had taken you in right away.

Maybe that’s why the blonde had always nodded hello, you were cousins and you didn’t even know.

You flip open the suitcase to find all your textbooks, clothing, quills and books nearly piled in with a newspaper wrapped around something resting at the top.

You reach for the paper and unroll it to read the rest of the article from this morning, but it was a different story. More recent to be exact.

‘L/n’s daughter Y/n has disappeared as search for Anguis and Diana continue. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore says, “she has been relocated for her safety and ours. She is not a threat, but her parents are and we cannot have them coming back.” We are once again asking to keep a lookout for these dangerous criminals please contact...

You sigh and place the newspaper on the bedside drawer and turn back to unpack when something else catches your attention.

Something was wrapped in the newspaper and had fallen from the paper onto your books.

The white wildflower. You smile as you pick it up, remembering all the fun you had only a few short hours ago.

White flowers. The blossom that represents purity and innocence, that also means death.

You chuckle at the irony of it all; Innocence and death, but you knew it really meant more.

Something was coming, your calm was over.

In the eye of a hurricane there is quiet for just a moment, and your moment was up.

The storm was upon you once again, and this time, it was stronger than ever.

#cedric diggory #to be at her side #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory imagine

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lovelyjasmari · 3 years ago

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KHOC Week 2021 ~ Day 1

@khoc-week

Day 1 ~ Strength

Hello Everyone!

It’s great to be participating again in KHOC Week for the third year in a row! This year, I’ll be focusing on two in particular. Many of you already are familiar with my primary oc Kalai; elegant adventurer, noble warrior, daughter of the Whirlwind Lancer. But this year, I’ll also be showing off more of her grandmother, Anila.

At 88, Anila is my oldest oc and has had a very incredible life. Spending her early years as a keyblade wielder and training beside Eraqus, Xehanort and the other Scala kids before setting off on her own as a young adult to traverse the countless worlds, then settling down in Radiant Garden where she becomes a wife, a mother, eventually a grandmother and even politician!

Of course, Anila has had her share of heartbreaks and tragedies, but her heart has always remained hopeful and even in old age, retains a youthful spirit that inspires those around her. To kick off this week, here’s a snippet highlighting the relationship between Kalai and Anila and how the latter gives inspiration to her granddaughter.

Mindful and Free ~ 2834 Word Count

This was a long shot. She had never visited any place in Radiant Garden outside the capital. But thankfully, those she spoke to seemed to know exactly where she needed to go. Kalai walked along a long dirt road, leading further away from town. The sound of morning doves took her deeper into the woods as the sounds of the bustling village fell away. After a time, she came across a fine stone cottage, mantled in ivy. Wildflowers lined the pathway leading to the door, which was open.

A rustling noise followed Kalai as she came closer to the house. An orange cat sprang towards her from the bushes. It startled Kalai, but she did not call out. She simply looked down at the creature, who, with a few blinks and mews, circled her feet before running back into the house. After collecting herself, Kalai wondered if the cat was guiding her to her destination, and she smiled to herself at the thought.

~~~

Despite the early hour, Lady Anila was awake and ready for whatever the day had in store for her. She opened her windows as well as the front door to let in the daylight, and wasn’t surprised when her cat made a beeline for the door. Outside, she could hear the cat mewing at something, piquing her curiosity.

“Lisi, what are you…oh!”

When Lady Anila stepped outside the doorway, she wasn’t sure what to expect, but she certainly did not expect to see her granddaughter waiting outside for her. Not that such a thing was ever unwelcome. Months had passed since their last meeting. They both immediately rushed towards each other. Each took the other into her arms, and they wholeheartedly embraced each other.

“Does your father know you’ve come here?” Lady Anila asked as she held her granddaughter close.

“He doesn’t,” Kalai replied. “No one in the castle knows I’m here, but...I needed to see you, Grandma. I need your advice.”

The two women pulled apart from each other ever so slightly and their identical eyes locked. Lady Anila replied, “well I’m always glad to help you if I can.” The elder woman smiled. “What has…”

A beam of the morning sunlight found the silver cuff decorating Kalai’s arm, causing it to shimmer more brightly than usual. The brightness immediately caught Lady Anila’s attention and stopped her mid-sentence. It was so similar to a cuff that encircled her own arm for decades, in her previous life, before Radiant Garden. She reached for her dear granddaughter’s wrist, bringing the cuff closer to her face. She gazed upon it with wonder and a tiny hint of concern. Kalai did not resist her grandmother’s inspection of the cuff, as Lady Anila continued running her fingers along the intricate design. A plethora of thoughts swarmed her mind. But she wanted to be certain.

“Kalai, how did you get this?”

Kalai did not respond with words. Gently pulling her arm away from her beloved grandmother, she stepped back and extended her cuffed hand, summoning Graceful Destiny in a beam of light. Lady Anila took one look at the keyblade and became overwhelmed with emotion. A flood of memories revived themselves and danced inside her mind. Yes, it was just as she suspected, and in her heart, she had always hoped something like this would one day happen. But after having a son more interested in lances and never taking on an apprentice, she felt that her hopes would never be. Now before her eyes, she could see her legacy, which would surely continue long after she departed this world. Lady Anila couldn’t be happier and nearly suffocated her granddaughter in another embrace, holding back tears.

The words began spilling out of her. “I gave up my keyblade decades ago. And with it, my hopes that I’d have a successor, someone to carry on my legacy.” Lady Anila gazed at Kalai, eyes shining with affection and pride. “With this, my dear, you’ve revived my hopes. This is so incredible, do you know what this means for you?”

“But...grandma…” Praise from her grandmother, though well-intentioned, only added to Kalai’s anxiety. “I came here because I’m not sure about wielding a keyblade. My Master has faith in me, and of course, Dad has faith in me. But I’m not sure if I have as much faith in myself.”

Lady Anila nodded, remembering all too well her own uncertainty when, as a little girl, she was bequeathed with the power of the keyblade. And she remembered all too well her continued fears as she went through her training and her Mark of Mastery.

“I understand,” she said. “You might be unsure now, but it doesn’t mean you’ll always be that way. Come inside child.”

Placing her arm around her granddaughter, Lady Anila led Kalai inside as her cat followed behind them. Memorabilia from decades of exploits and adventure was on display for Kalai to see. Unique treasures and cases filled with rare multilingual tomes spoke to the very rich life her grandmother had lived. Kalai sat at a table by a window overlooking the sea while Lady Anila poured tea for them. The white cat purred, nuzzling her owner’s leg and was rewarded with a bowl of milk. Lady Anila smiled down at the cat, then back at Kalai.

“Lisi is my companion when I’m not in the capital, named after my old friend from my days in Scala,” she explained as she sat down. “So, tell me about your keyblade. Are you training? Do you have a Master?”

“I do have a Master who’s training me,” Kalai replied. “I live with her now. Her name is Aqua.”

“Aqua!” The elder woman’s eyes lit up. “I know her, she was one of Eraqus and Ilysia's wards. And a boy named Terra.”

“I know Terra!” Kalai smiled. “He lives with us too!”

“I haven’t seen either of them since they were little ones. But Eraqus trained them, so I know you’re in good hands. Which brings me to my next question…” she continued delicately, taking a long, measured sip of her tea. “Why do you not have any faith in yourself?”

Kalai let out a long sigh, turning her cup in her hands as she thought about how to best explain herself. But her grandmother already understood.

“Does this perhaps have anything to do with the...unfortunate events in your past,” Lady Anila gently said. The elder and the younger’s eyes met again, light catching their dark irises in the exact same manner.

“That is part of it,” Kalai replied. “I have another Master, sort of. He’s a former master, but he gives us advice. Yesterday I found out that he secretly doesn’t trust me, because of my past association with Xehanort.”

“Is that so?” Lady Anila chuckled. “If that’s all, then I would also be unworthy of trust since we were once friends.”

“But you knew him before he was a darkness-soaked tyrant. And let’s be honest, grandma.” Kalai lowered her head as a sudden recollection shamed her. “It’s not like I was without my own darkness before he came along. That’s what I’m unsure of. I don’t want to be a keyblade wielder like him. Am I even worthy of a keyblade? Considering everything that’s happened?”

“Hmmm…” Lady Anila placed her cup back on the table, not answering right away. She was thinking of an instance, decades ago, when she sat in her classroom as one of the Masters explained how darkness manifested itself in people’s hearts. She was quiet and thoughtful for so long, Kalai became concerned.

“Grandma?” she called out to her.

Lady Anila breathed deeply, and spoke with great care and intention. “You say you don’t want to be like Xehanort.” said the elder woman. “That would imply you’re afraid that there is still enough darkness in your heart to hold sway over you.”

“Yes. That’s what Master Yen Sid is worried about.”

“Yen Sid?!” Lady Anila laughed. “The sorcerer? That’s your other master?”

“You knew him too?”

“I did, and I should have known. His stance on light and dark has always been very black and white. Eraqus too.”

“Isn’t it though? Black and white?”

“Not exactly. Granted, my stance on light and dark is more nuanced for a Master of our generation. But I wasn’t always that way.” Lady Anila took another sip of her tea, then surveyed her granddaughter’s face with great tenderness. “Have I ever told you why I chose to relinquish my role as Keyblade Master?”

“No,” Kalai shook her head. “I don’t think you have.”

“When Terra and Aqua were still little, I went with Eraqus and Ilysia to the Realm of Darkness. We were searching for Xehanort, whom Yen Sid had given us reason to believe was trapped there. It ended up being the final mission we ever went on.”

“Why? What happened?” Kalai asked, although from the downcast look in her grandmother’s eyes, Kalai felt she could make an educated guess.

“Long story short, we found him, but we were cornered by a large Heartless. Ilysia knew our options were few. So using a special keyblade, she opened a portal to the Realm of Light but placed herself in front of the monster to help us escape.” The elder woman closed her eyes. “For years...she and Eraqus ruled Scala together, yet her sacrifice that day was the noblest action of her entire life…” The horrific final image she had of her friend alive caused her lip to quiver. “...and her last.”

“Grandma...I’m so sorry…”

“Eraqus was never the same. Neither was our relationship with Xehanort. As for me, the grief was too much to bear, especially due to the tragedies darkness had brought upon me. My father was also a Master, struck down like many of my companions. Now darkness had taken my dearest friend. With all the pinned-up sorrow I kept in my heart over the years from what darkness had taken from me, I knew it was only a matter of time before the darkness took me as well. And in that fear, I vowed never to use my keyblade again.”

After this, there was a long silence, cut only by the distant sound of waves outside the window and the occasional mews of Lisi. Looking at her grandmother, Kalai saw immeasurable wisdom. But as a child, her father would often say that the most important life lessons were often bitter ones. And for every inch of wisdom Lady Anila possessed, there was sorrow to accompany it. To be named a Keyblade Master was the greatest honor that could be bestowed upon a warrior of light. To be worthy of such a title, the strength of one’s heart had to be beyond measure, the resolve unwavering.

And yet, her grandmother had felt compelled to doff that mantle out of fear of the darkness growing in her heart. Even in her old age, she could see her grandmother was a strong person, with a kind disposition. So whatever darkness she had, it must have been extremely powerful to make such a decision. Kalai thought about when her mother had died, and the rage she felt when she had been excluded from the funeral. Such turmoil remained with her for a long time after the fact, even now. Would her dark feelings eventually compel her to abandon her keyblade as well?

“In those days, one of the first lessons drilled into a prospective Master was the ways darkness is manifested, the negative emotions that in and of themselves are considered darkness, that become darkness over time.” she continued. “However, the real lesson, that I did not come to learn until decades later, is that those emotions aren’t darkness at all. They’re as much a part of the human experience as happiness and love. It’s not realistic to think you can erase those feelings.”

“Sometimes, I feel like my heart is still ruled by my darker feelings,” Kalai admitted. “Remember how much I hated my sisters? Because just looking at them reminded me of how much my stepfather hurt me.”

“I remember.” Lady Anila smiled a little. “But in time, your heart opened up to them. Having dark feelings is not a problem, it’s holding onto them that’s the problem. That was Xehanort’s folly, but I know for certain it will not be you’s.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because I’ve seen the effect darkness has had on you. I’ve seen you almost on the brink of losing yourself. And yet, you refused to let it destroy you.”

Lady Anila took her granddaughter’s hand with a sigh. “Kalai, whatever dark feelings you have, you are stronger than them. If I had understood that about myself sooner, I might still be wielding my keyblade, even at my age. I might have had more I could offer you beyond advice. Please don’t wait until you’re my age to realize something so simple.”

“So you think Master Yen Sid is wrong about me?”

“Please understand, in our time, we had a lot of reasons to fear darkness. Of the eleven in our original class, only six of us survived our training and became Masters. And of those six, only I, Yen Sid, and another of our friends still lives. However, It doesn’t mean I think he’s right to hold your past over you.”

“So what should I do?” Kalai asked.

“Continue what you’re doing now, my dear.” Lady Anila replied. “Listen to what Aqua tells you and strive to be the best wielder that you can be. As for your darker feelings, acknowledge them, but do not embrace them. And when you do that, you’ll learn to stop worrying and realize what’s most important. In time, I’m certain that Yen Sid will see the good in your heart.”

“I hope so.”

They talked about other things, like Kalai’s training and how it compared to Lady Anila’s. Kalai learned that Kairi’s grandmother had also once been a Master and trained beside her own grandmother when they were young. And nearly eighty years later, they were still friends.

“I guess it makes sense that our granddaughters would also be friends and inherit our gift.”

“Kairi has been having doubts herself. ”Kalai thoughtfully leaned her face into one of her hands. “We try to encourage her and I’m certain her grandma is proud of her.”

“She is, and I am proud of you too, Kalai. With your keyblade, I know you will do amazing things.”

Kalai stayed with Lady Anila a little while longer. Lisi sat purring in her lap as she was told more stories of her grandmother’s life in Scala. Soon enough, she felt her confidence returning but when she was asked if she would try to become a Master herself, she laughed.

“I doubt it,” she replied. “I’ve only had my keyblade for two months and from what you’ve told me, the Mark of Mastery sounds dangerous.”

“I understand. Perhaps you’ll feel differently after a few years of training.” Finally, when Kalai felt that she had stayed long enough, Lady Anila guided her to one of her bookcases. “Before you return, there is one last thing I wish to show you.”

She pulled out a large tome bound in dark leather, taking out something that was marking one of the pages. A purple star-shaped charm dangled in her hand. Kalai recognized it at once, it was very similar to the ones carried by Terra, Ventus, and Aqua.

“It’s a Wayfinder,” she told her. “It was given to me a very long time ago, I was much younger than you when it was given to me.” She stared at the charm somewhat wistfully. “The Wayfinder serves as a good luck charm and for the longest time, it decorated my keyblade as the chain. Even without a keyblade, it still holds a lot of meaning to me.”

But when she handed the Wayfinder to her granddaughter, she would not accept it.

“I couldn’t possibly take something so important.”

“That’s exactly why I want to give it to you. In a way, it represents my life before coming to Radiant Garden, my hopes as a young girl. But these days, I have a new purpose in my life.” She pressed the Wayfinder back into her hand with a little smile. “As do you.”

Kalai took the charm. The lustrous purple seashells reflected softly in the light, casting itself upon her face. A little smile slowly pulled at her lips as her grandmother’s words began to reach her heart. Darkness was never her choice, it wouldn’t be her choice now. With her keyblade, she had even more reason for her heart to remain strong. Even if it was just her stubbornness driving her, it didn’t matter.

In a way, this pretty little charm represented far more than a means for good luck. This Wayfinder symbolized her grandmother’s faith, and more than anything, Kalai wanted to be at least worthy of that.

#khocweek2021 #kingdom hearts oc #kh oc #kingdom hearts #kalai oc #Anila oc #my art #my writings #i literally finished this less than an hour ago

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liums · 4 years ago

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Malleus Draconia SR Halloween “Scary Outfit” Personal Story-This is...interesting

Part 1

Diasomnia Dorm- Lounge

Lilia- ....Here you are Malleus. I was looking for you.

Malleus- Lilia. What happened?

Lilia- There’s something I want to ask for.

Lilia- Would you decide on the disguise for Diasomnia this Halloween?

Malleus- Me? Why? Lilia did chosen it last year and 2 years ago.

Lilia- This year, in particular, I’m working as a steering committe member. I have to show up in the club activities .

Malleus- However, I don’t know what to do. I think there are more suitable people...

Lilia- No, only our Lord.

Lilia- Choosing a disguise means deciding Diasomnia theme for year.

Lilia- if its such an important thing...in my opinion, then I, or the dorm learder must decide.

Malleus- Does Lilia, who looks forward to halloween every year, decides the outfits for that reason?

Lilia- Kufufufu...Well, there is another reason.

Lilia- Its boring that I get to decide a costume every year.

Lilia- However, if the next king of the Valley of Thorns chooses, all diasomnia students will be curious.

Lilia- Of couse, I am too. How is it? Will you do it?

Malleus- ....All right. If Lilia says so, I will choose.

Malleus- Certainly, I will choose a ghost costume with various monsters caracteristics (Didn’t understand well,its literally translated as- Certainly, I was dressed in a ghost costume with various monsters as mortifs from each dorm)

Malleus- I will go to the library and try to find useful books.

-Library

Malleus- ....Well, what kind of disguise should I wear?

Malleus- Even if I choose a theme, it needs to be relatable with Diasomnia.

Malleus- A high-rank being is desirable, but....

Malleus- If I choose the dragon, Lilia will complain I should deviate a little more.

Malleus- It should be a creature that I myself has never seen. If I do that, It will be possible to make a difference to the other Dorms.

Malleus- If I look up local folklore from diferent regions, I may find information about creatures that you can’t find regularly.

Malleus- However, it will be hard to find those books.

Maleus- I’ve heard that you can search for the book you need by using a computer in the library....

Malleus- .....No, it’s complicated to use them.(poor Malleus ｡T ω T｡) .Let’s go around and looks for a book.

...*some time passes i think*

Malleus- ...98.....99....this is the 100th book.

Malleus- No way, there are about 100 folklore books in this library...

Ortho- Wow! So many books!

Malleus- You are....the youngest Shroud.

Ortho- Malleus Draconia!

Ortho- What happened to be stacking a lot of books around?

Malleus- I have to decide on a Halloween costume.

Malleus- I was gathering books, but when I noticed, I was surrounded by a lot of books.

Ortho- Hmm. Can I help you if you are looking for something?

Ortho- If you are interessed, you can use a database instead of the books in the library.

Ortho- And if you use the ”Olympus” search engine

Ortho- You can also do a semantic search that uses the user intentions and purposes. How about?

Malleus- In other words....what do you mean? (why is this cute)

Ortho- It identifies what Malleus Draconia wants to find out. (also Ortho deserves best brother award)

Malleus- Hmm....I understand.

Ortho- “Activate voice recognition function. Start the semantic search”.

Malleus- ......................

Ortho- ....Oh, so?

Malleus- what?

Ortho- Um...Can you tell me what you want to look up, even if its fragmented?

Malleus- Can I?

Ortho- Of course.

Malleus- Then...I am looking for information on creatures used as inspiration in halloween costumes...

Ortho- “Searching...”

Malleus- What happened?

Ortho- Don’t worry, can you tell me more?

Malleus- ....Alright.

Malleus- I would like to consider a high-ranking creature suitable for Diasomnia.....

.....

Ortho-”Search complete”

Ortho- I found it, Malleus Draconia. I’ll project the image on the wall right away!

Malleus- Oh, This is.....Interesting.

Part 1 end

Part 2

-.Library

Ortho- Is this the creature that Malleus were looking for?

Malleus- Hmm...The King who dominates the demons on Bald Montain.

Ortho- It has a big pitch black body and huge wings. And its penetrating eyes....so cool!

Ortho- I’m certain there was never a costume with this concept in the history of Night Raven College before.

Malleus- Certainly he is a high-ranking being....

Malleus- However, if the body is all black, it will not stand out. Lilia would likely complain that it’s too plain.

Ortho- “Researching.....search completed”

Ortho- If that’s the case, then look. A headless horseman who rides trough the valley at night!

Ortho- A galloping horse swinging a sword! The red cloak stands out, dosen’t it?

Malleus- ....No, its no good.

Ortho- Eh!? Why?

Malleus- When it comes to reproducing its appearence that has no neck, The costume becomes too complicated.

Malleus- Besides, it would be difficult to prepare horses for all the students.

Ortho- I see....

Ortho- Reflecting the current information, the next image is...This!

Malleus- .....Oh? It’s quite small but, is this red being is.....a dragon?

Ortho- Oh? Dragon should have been omitted from the search since we looked it up before....Oh!

Ortho- This is not a dragon. (doragon is what they said, they mean the english version of dragons, lthe classics like maleficent one) Its a dragon! (”Ryuu” wich means dragon in japanese, they are refering to oriental dragons, like the one in Ramshackle dorm and the one from Dragon ball Z, chinese dragons basically)

Malleus- A dragon(ryuu)....A being that lives in the Far east and is sanctified by humans.

Malleus- It combines both strenghth and grace.....A dragon-like high ranking being....

Malleus- Above all, a being that I have never seen myself...

Malleus- Alrigh, I decided. The costume of Diasomnia will be a dragon (ryuu)

Malleus- Detailed information is needed create the costumes. Can you search for it?

Ortho- Yeah! Leave it to me!

.....

Ramshacle Dorm

Malleus- ....Sorry I kept you waiting.

Malleus- This will be the halloween costume for Diasomnia this year.

Sebek- Young....Young master! Such a dignified figure! (hes crying.. 0.0)

Silver- It really suits you.

Malleus- How is it Lilia? I want to hear your opinion.

Lilia- Its has such a sophisticated design, but its really collorful....I like it!

Lilia- Looks like it was the right choice, leaving you decidde the costumes.

Lilia- I would have never guessed you would use a Far eastern dragon as a motif...

Malleus- Its not a dragon.

Malleus -Dragons and dragons are different, from appearence to abilities, the kind of horns and the lack of wings....they only look similar on the surface.

Lilia- Hahahah wow! Its like how you said. You managed to do so susch a good research in a short period of time. You are such a prefecionist

Malleus- It was thanks to the yougest shroud. He did a good job

Malleus- Though...I didn’t understand at all how he did it. (*pat pat* its alright, its alright, u are perfect just like that)

Lilia- Well, the costumes are perfect, lets give them to the dorm members.

Malleus- Ah. This year’s halloween we’ll bring more fear than before.

-Halloween day-

Malleus- Trick or threat! (my lips are sweet, does that count??)

Malleus- Fufu... The majesty of this dragon, Ill burn it in your eyes...!

END

So as I suspected, that tail is REAL ,Malleus confirms it in one of his lines.

Also XD when Sebek and Silver were little they’d wet the bed on the halloween because Lilia would always scare them, Diasomnia is one big family and I just love it

Add me if you want uwu

-Please don´t post it anywhere else, just redirect them here

disclaimer- I do not own Twisted Wonderland or any of its characters

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charlettebffxiv · 3 years ago

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Prompt #17 Destruct

“So, what happens when you can’t keep one?” Maxim stood with his hands on the handle of his rake, the pile of leaves they had been collecting having grown almost as tall as him. Autumn was arriving, and with it the leaves had started to tumble. Willow’s Heart, like most Gridanian-esque villages, was lined with trees all throughout the winding roads and flanking forest. Which meant, plenty of mulch to be found for the Greenhouse, and other projects, and lots and lots of leaves, seeds and nuts to trip, slip and fall into. Charlette had just finished raking a fine mess of them up to the second mountain they had built so far, looking up at Maxim as she wrestled it along. “What? You mean an aberration? Depends on what kind, really. They come in different forms. Enchanted items, crystals, magitek devices, aberrant creatures, ‘afflicted’ or ‘affected’ people.” One of Maxim’s white-blond eyebrows lifted, you could barely see it was there against his pale skin. “What’s the difference between ‘afflicted’ and ‘affected?” turning her rake over, and using it to scoop up the leaves, Charlette dumped them atop the pile, watching plenty scatter back down anyway. “It is simple, really. One is always a victim, the other’s condition was intentional.” Maxim walked around their autumn monument, cleaning up the edges, every leaf swept into it. Neat, orderly, Charlette approved of his technique. “So, like, if someone experimented on me and gave me, say, webbed feet and fingers against my will? That’s afflicted?” Charlette nodded “And if you intentionally experimented with forbidden magics to give yourself webbed fingers and toes, you would be affected. Not the words I would have chosen, but I didn’t write the manuals.”

“Alright, well then, what happens with all of those, if you can’t keep it? Say it’s just too dangerous, like it explodes if you sneeze too close to it.” Bobocufu’s Apprentice Botanist Dylan had pulled his chocobo cart round to their side, and the both of them were hauling their collection into the back of it as they spoke. Pitch forks swung back and forth, their rhythm quite in-sync. Their words were a little wheezy from the effort. “Well, enhanced items can sometimes be destroyed on sight. That is a common one when the item is too big, or too dangerous to transport. They teach a few useful techniques for it, depending on your team composition and specialty. Guardians, like me, learn how to neutralize aether in small areas, but with time and chance, we can completely neutralize an object. Revert it back to being just a bowl or knife or whatever it is. Same with crystals.'' Their work was finished quickly, Charlette and Maxim waving to Dylan as he nudged the chocobo into action and took away a twelvemoon’s supply of mulch. “And if you don’t have a Guardian? What then?” Charlette was not sure if she should be telling Maxim this, then again he is a Willow’s Heart native. Born and bred here. His family must know nearly everything by now, might as well help him along. “If you are an Arcanist of the Order, you may know a similar technique as Guardians, but more concentrated. Usually disposal falls to the Arcanists, so they are the most prepared for it. If this fails though, there is always option number two: destroy it.” Now Maxim was focused, the man having a somewhat worrying delight towards explosives and anything else capable of creating fire. “Arcanists can manage magic strong enough to melt metal, turn entire houses into ashes, burn trees to the ground, freeze constructs and shatter them to pieces. There is a wealth of options for them. If you are a trained Agent of the Order, you generally will know how to make some explosives. A large bomb is an effective ‘neutralizing’ method as well.” Maxim nodded, like he was agreeing with Charlette. She supposed this was a subject that at least he could be about as correct as she would. “What about creatures and people?” It was here that Charlette went quiet, just packing away their tools into their own cart. Hauling herself up into the driver’s seat, Maxim sitting next to her and taking the reins and getting the bo moving. Seems he was patient this sun. The cart trundled down the road, leaves shivering about in the back. Maxim finally turned to Charlette, nudging her with his elbow “Well? That’s long enough. Give up the gory details, do you have giant mouse traps for oversized, aberrant rodents?” That thought was a little horrifying “No, though that would be funny, and horrible. Can you imagine the clean-up for such a thing? Ugh.” She gave a short shiver. Maxim having evoked some all too similar memories of missions passed “With creatures it can sometimes be much the same, though if you use any kind of neutralizing techniques that involve stopping or removing their aether, they generally die. And it is not a pleasant thing to witness or inflict on anything living. It is slow, and they panic, slowly get more and more tired and weaker, they stop trying to run after a little while. Then they just lay down, and die.” Maxim’s brows had furrowed, and his mouth was in a comically deep frown, creasing his cheeks and chin. “That’s grim Charlette, you’ve ruined my good mood.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, then you should not have asked. I find I prefer a bomb, or pyrotechnics that do not waste time and get it over with immediately, but it is not always an option. Aberrations can be incredibly resistant, by design or by adaptation. Sometimes taking the aether is the only way you can harm them. The hardest part is simply that it is not their fault. Never, not when it is a beastkin, or vilekin, or any kin that is not, well us.” Her driving companion needed a little moment to think that through. The differences between their experiences showing a little in his moment of thought. His life in the village and surrounding forest was not devoid of violence, but certainly lacked in the kind Charlette had seen, and had to be a part of. Cruel pragmatism in the face of Conservationist Optimism. It was a strange pairing. “I suppose I can get it. Nature is cruel like that too, sometimes. There’s usually a sense to it though, a reason but without a selfish designer, you know? No insane Arcanist, or deranged Thaumaturge behind it all. No corrupt Conjurer or tempered Mage. Just The Shroud, the forest, keeping itself as it is.” Charlette’s shoulder bumped into his, but not from the sway of the cart. “You sound morose Maxim. Let’s talk about something else.” He looked at her and shook his head “Nah, I’m fine. Just one more thing to go anyway, what happens with the people?” She was hoping to avoid this one. Their arrival at the Greenhouse gave her a precious moment of distraction as they prepared to unload. Leaves hauled into the compost, Chocobo released from the cart and walked back to the stables and their tools set in the shed. Both of them pulled off their overalls and scrubbed the dirt from their arms and faces at the water trough. “People are the hardest part.” Maxim was tying back his long, now slightly damp hair into the tail he usually wore it in, Charlette’s words catching him with a little surprise “What? Oh, yeah. I mean, I thought they would be. Stuff is just stuff, and I guess we’ve all seen animals getting the short end of the stick at some point. What makes it so hard?” Charlette knelt over the trough, running her arm under the tap as water poured out, scrubbing from wrist to shoulder. “That it is never obvious what you need to do. If they are too dangerous to allow to be free, but can be contained, they are. Usually by local authorities if they are capable of doing so, or by us if it is an extreme case. No, I’m not telling you where or how.” That was an actual secret, and she also didn’t think he was ready to know about the stasis process. Few people are, she wasn't when she learned how to do it. “But if they are too dangerous to be contained, or allowed free again, and if they do not self-destruct in the encounter. Well, we kill them. In much the same way as the creatures.” Maxim was moving a little slower now, his thoughts taking precedence on his focus “That’s rather harsh, don’t you think? Afflicted and affected alike?” Charlette nodded, finally more or less clean, and pulled her shirt over her head. “There’s generally no choice when it comes down to that, they often force our hand, whether they meant to or not. It just needs to be done, despite it being a desperately unfortunate situation, it needs to happen. So we do it.” She turned around, her top needing a few laces tied at the back, which Maxim attends to easily. He’s quite nimble with his long fingers. “I’m sorry you have to.” “I am not. It’s a good purpose to have.” “So is Botany, you know. Making life, and you still get to end some if that’s all you’re after.” Once finished he pats her on the shoulder, both of them looking a sight better than before. She does need to wipe a soil stain from Maxim’s nose though, which she does so with spit and a hard rub of her thumb, to his annoyance. “I know. It is partly why I am not rushing them about the hearing. I have… rather enjoyed helping things live, instead of destroying them, for a change.” He was still wiping at his nose with a sleeve, making it look extra red against his pallor. “Yeah, well, you’re welcome to hang around as long as you want. I’m gonna miss you when you’re back to murdering for the good of us all.” “Please don’t call it that.” “Sorry. Fixing things? Sounds a bit better. Like you’re an engineer.” he winked, Charlette gave him what he wanted and rolled her eyes again, with a big sigh, then started walking back home. Maxim ran to catch-up with her. She liked that though, being a ‘fixer’. She had never thought of it that way, and you know what? It helped, with that sadness that hangs around it all.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv rp #ffxiv writing #elezen #duskwight

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meetthetank · 4 years ago

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Cruciamen Chapter 11: A Touch of Honey

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M, Other Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), Emil (NieR: Automata), Kainé (Nier) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, genre typical violence, On the Run, Monster of the Week, 9S is a half demon, 2B and A2 are shapeshifter Dragons, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut in the future, inaccurate depictions of medical procedures, Fantasy Biology, A2 is Nonbinary Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104214/chapters/79358422

The art in the thick, leatherbound tome is unlike anything A2 has seen before. Great warriors, their mighty weapons, and the monsters they slew dance across the page and intermingle with the precisely placed text. They run their bandaged fingers over the linework and imagine the rough splinters of the carved woodblock. Each image is rendered with exquisite detail and transferred to the page with expert skill. The ink doesn’t even smear when they touch it.

The door to their sickroom swings open. A4 strides in, black curls bouncing with each step, carrying a basket of supplies and a plate of food. The dry beige stuff, “bread” and soft yellow stuff, “cheese” have been mostly replaced by fresh fruits, but there’s still small pieces of both hidden underneath. The nun regards A2 with a bright smile that makes her emerald eyes shine. For the past three days she’s greeted them this way, always the same smile, the same twinkle in her eyes. It’s weird, but A2 doesn’t mind.

“I didn’t take you for a scholar,” she says, placing her basket down and coming to their bedside. “Oh, no offense.” A4 scans the page open on A2’s lap, then sighs wistfully. “I always love this story. The Sword Saint is one of my favorite heroes. What about you?”

A2 blinks, their expression neutral. “I can’t read it. I just think the pictures are cool.”

“Oh.” The nun turns her head and makes a strange coughing noise. When she turns back her face is red, making the smattering of freckles across her cheeks stand out.

“What?”

“Nothing!” A4 yelps. “Just ah-... Dry throat is all.”

“Okay…” A2 mutters.

“What’s your favorite picture then?” A4 asks, eager to change the subject.

Their expression lightens a bit. “The weapons.”

“Oh, really?”

A2 nods. “Yeah. Never seen some of these before. They look cool.” Their fingers trace across an image of a wicked looking serrated blade. “Back home, the elders said that weapons told stories. I never believed it as a cub, weapons couldn’t talk.”

“Interesting,” A4 muses. She looks at them, lying in bed, clearly bored out of their skull. Their leg bounces under the covers, their eyes dart around only to settle on her face for a few moments, then find something else to be interested in. The book is long forgotten, and A4 guesses that sitting here telling stories would be as ineffective as trying to get them to change their bandages regularly. Then, suddenly claps her hands together.“I have an idea!”

They close the book and tilt their head to the side. “Huh?”

“I bet you’re tired of walking around the infirmary. I could take you around some of the other buildings, if you’d like.”

A2 grumbles to themself. Though they feel better after walking with A4, they despise being led around like a lost cub. Not even the prospect of new scenery will change their attitude.

“There’s lots of sculptures and art, and even relic weapons I could show you,” she says with a coy smile.

That… gets their attention. “... When are we going?”

“Whenever you’re ready, I think.”

A4 offers her hand out to A2 to help them out of bed. They wrap their bandaged fingers around hers and allow themself to be pulled up. Though the sharp pains and aches that ravaged their body have dulled, they still wince and hiss under their breath as they stand. Parts of their skin, particularly in their shoulders, elbows, lower back, and legs, feel too tight, as if their bones are a tanning rack. A4 places a worried hand on their shoulder. They give a dismissive wave but don’t reject the touch.

“I’m fine,” A2 says, forcing themself to stand as tall as they can. “Just a bit stiff.”

The nun sticks by their side as they leave the infirmary. A2 grumbles that they’re not about to fall over, but A4 remains adamant that she’s here in case they need some support. They glance around at the other rooms that happen to have the doors open. There aren’t many other patients housed here; A2 counts at least three or four patients and one other nun. This place must not get many visitors, or much outside aid for that matter.

The sun blinds them temporarily as they step onto the worn path that leads from the infirmary to the rest of the convent’s grounds. Straight ahead is an old stone chapel, decorated with symbols and iconography A2 recognizes from the book they were reading. Immediately left of that is a building similar in structure to the infirmary from which other nuns come in and out. The scents of unfamiliar foods drifts out of the open windows, and A4 giggles when A2 stares at the building as they pass.

As they approach the living quarters and the chapel, A2 notices a distinct change in the atmosphere around them. There’s an energy in the air that sends a chill up their spine, something unseen that makes the downy feathers beneath their hair prick up.

A4, noticing their tension, puts a hand on their shoulder.

“What is that?” they ask, stormy eyes darting around in search of a threat. “Something’s weird here.”

“It’s the blessed grounds,” A4 explains. “The area surrounding the chapel and our dormitory have been consecrated to ward against demons and other creatures.”

A2 nods along, not understanding at all. At least this place has some kind of protection. The only thing preventing an invasion is The Bog to the north and dense woods to the south. A fence or stones would be preferable, but a magical barrier will do, they suppose.

A4 brings them to the chapel first. She stops in front of the heavy wooden doors with A2 by her side and clasps her hands together in front of her chest. Though she mutters a prayer in a language A2 does not recognize, they can tell the words are full of reverence. She bows her head, makes motions across her body with her hands, then leans forward as far as possible in an exaggerated bow. A2 stands and stares, unsure if they should be following along or not. They fold their hands clumsily, only for A4 to giggle at them once again. Heat floods their face and they cross their arms over their chest with an indignant huff.

She pushes the doors open much more easily than A2 thought she would. Cool air laden with fragrant incense rushes out and rustles their hair. There’s barely any light inside, only the sun’s rays and a few candles illuminate the interior of the old building, but it’s enough for the colorful glass windows to shine in brilliant greens, reds, and blues. They follow A4 with their head on a swivel, trying in vain to take in everything around them. Each window has an image inside it of different colored glass, giving the depictions of strange beings and holy figures an otherworldly quality. In between each window are statues depicting all manner of weird and awe-inspiring creatures. There are many beings that seem to defy the laws of nature, each one brandishing instruments of war such as swords, spears, and great shields. One winged creature with a long, featureless face that ends in a point unnerves A2. Despite it having no eyes, it seems to stare at them.

“What are these…” A2 murmurs, finding themself staying close to A4.

“Angels,” she explains, slowing her pace to match A2’s

They shiver. “I didn’t think they would look so…” So much like demons? They don’t dare say that aloud. “... Monstrous.”

A4 giggles. “Angels and other heavenly bodies aren’t from this world.”

“Oh.” They scuff their shoes against the stone floor, feeling a little silly. Of course they wouldn’t be from this world. “Where are they from? Has anyone seen an angel before?”

They don’t mean to be rude, they’re only curious, but the frown that sours A4’s soft features makes them rethink asking questions like that again.

“We call their world Paradise,” she says, forcing her expression to be neutral again. “There are a number of thinkers that theorize that it’s somewhere high above the clouds or among the stars. The few times we have seen angels, they’ve descended from the sky.” She sighs and thumbs the fabric of her dress. “It’s... been a long time since anyone has seen an angel. The last recorded sighting was during the time of the Hellwalker, thousands of years ago.”

A2 hums and searches for anything to change the subject. A statue close to the small altar catches their attention. An armored human, or something that used to be human, holds out his arms as an angelic warrior erupts from his split chest. Though graphic and morbid (the scene sends chills down A2’s spine), none of the more gruesome details are rendered in the stone. Even the human with his chest agape seems to be enraptured by the holy warrior emerging from his decimated body.

“Wh-”

They stop short of asking about the sculpture, but ever observant, A4’s head whips around to face them. She looks from their face to the statue and back again, easily piecing together the question A2 was about to ask.

“This was Saint Agustus, an Ascended,” she explains. “Exceptional people of the Faith are sometimes chosen by the Bishops to give up their body to an angel. They become holy vessels of divine will.”

A2 only nods along, watching as A4 clutches a charm that dangles from their prayer bead necklace. They can’t make out the shape, but it looks like a similar design to what the statue of Saint Augustus has tied to his belt. Before A4 can catch them staring they avert their eyes, making sure not to linger on anything for too long. The last thing they want to do is make this sweet nun feel like she has to educate them on every aspect of the Faith.

“The weapons look cool,” they say in a desperate attempt to avoid any prying religious based questions.

It seems to work, as A4 smiles. “They are, but the real ones are even cooler.” For the first time since coming into the chapel, she looks genuinely excited. It’s infectious; A2 can’t stop themself from grinning as well. “Would you like to see some?”

All A2 has to do is nod once for A4 to grab their hand and lead them through the chapel and down a stairwell. A few other nuns scowl at her but it doesn’t seem to bother A4 in the slightest; in fact she seems to smile wider once she does notice. That little act of mischief from the woman A2 thought was a good and pious girl makes her smirk, just a bit.

Another set of oaken doors separate the basement of the chapel, used for storing unused furniture and holiday paraphernalia, from the Order’s armory. The array and variety of weapons is impressive enough, but the decoration and detail on their ornaments is dazzling. Each sword, spear, axe, mace, and bow is embellished with holy symbols, geometric designs, and mosaics of brilliant gems and stones. A massive sword in a glass case catches A2’s eye. Its intricate lattice work and inlaid jewels outline the polished and gilded blade. It’s ostentatious and far too gaudy for their tastes, but A2 can’t deny that it’s impressive.

“That’s Teresa’s Ecstasy,” A4 explains. “Or, a replica of it.”

“Cool…” A2 says, staring at the sword with wide, awestruck eyes.

A4 goes around and gives a little lesson on each weapon or replica and who used it. Teresa’s Ecstasy might be the largest and shiniest, but the brutal headsman axes wielded by Holy Executioners would be their choice out of the lot, hypothetically. There’s a pair of swords that look strangely familiar to A2, two serrated black iron swords devoid of the elaborate decorations or the others. A4 explains them to be the favored weapons of someone known as the Sword Saint.

“This is what I take into battle,” A4 says and takes what A2 thought to be a censer off of a rack, but it is adorned with the wicked blades and spikes of a flail. “I burn a sacred herb inside that emits a smoke that suffocates demons.”

She demonstrates her skills with several wide sweeps and a downward strike to finish. A2 steps back to give her room to swing the flail. It almost looks like a dance and it astounds them that A4 doesn’t lose control of the weapon and smack herself in the face with it. It's enchanting in a way they didn’t expect, and they find themself watching her with enough intensity that when A4 catches them staring, her face flushes red and she falters, allowing the golden chain to catch on her arm. She sputters a half explanation, half apology as she hangs the thurible back on its rack.

A4 clears her throat. “S-so. Which one would you pick?”

They can’t help but smile. Her question carries the same excited innocence that a child has when asking a friend what their favorite lizard is. A2 scans the racks and shelves filled with weapons, relics, and replicas. Most of these are far too flashy or strange for them to latch onto, but there is a rack of simple wooden weapons. At first they mistake them for harmless training weapons, but one catches their eye. They pick up a heavy dark oak club with spikes crudely hammered into the rounded end. It’s hefty, top-heavy, yet well balanced and cruel. They give it a practice swing, then a more powerful one and smirk at the simple brutality of the spiked club.

“This one. If I didn’t have my sword, of course.”

She giggles. “I thought you might pick the Club of Saint Gertrude.”

A2 decides that Saint Gertrude had good taste. They set the club back in its place with much more reverence than before.

The pair don’t stay down in the armory for very long. An older nun whom A4 refers to as Sister Beatrice (who also lingers behind them as they leave) scolds them for playing around with holy relics. A4 tries to defend herself but quickly absconds with A2 in tow before the old woman could get too angry. As they exit the chapel and A2 has to walk past the statues and windows once more, they can’t shake a certain observation of the convent’s art and iconography that sticks in their mind. Everything here, despite being holy and images of purity, is very... sexual. Even the people or demons being skewered or torn apart have expressions of pure ecstasy and pleasure. They shove the thought away as they and A4 exit the chapel and the fresh air fills their lungs.

Along with the calming scents of grass and the woods, something else catches A2’s attention. A savory smell, like searing meat but not as sharp or oily, drifts from the building A4 had identified as the dormitory. It’s a wholly unknown scent to them, but it makes their mouth water nonetheless. Thankfully that building is A4’s next destination.

Since there’s no ritual she needs to perform for entering the living quarters, A4 walks right through the much less ornate wooden door, holding it open for A2. The entryway is sparsely decorated: only wide, featureless windows that let in natural light and potted plants of various kinds sit among neatly lined pairs of boots. Other belongings and clothes sit on small tables and vanities near the door: several woven black shawls, prayer beads, and simple leather satchels. It’s hard to tell just how many nuns live here, but A2 figures at least twenty based on how many pairs of boots they can see.

A4 leads them through the halls of the dormitory, which is relatively uninteresting aside from the different paintings of what A2 assumes to be saints that adorn the walls every so often. The smell grows stronger and stronger until they reach a large, open kitchen and dining area. Well-used pots and pans hang from the rafters, a pot of water boils on an oven with a small cookfire crackling inside, and plates of breads and cheeses sit on the center table, ready for lunch time.

The young nun bustles back and forth, checking on the pot of something she calls “pasta” that boils on the stove while A2 idly examines the different foods lying about. Some of them they recognize, like cloves of garlic, from the witch’s house. Others they have to sneak a bite of to decide whether or not they like it. Most of the powders and dried plants are far too strong, and it takes all of their self control not to vomit after biting into a thin stick of… something.

A2 finally comes to the loaves of bread that have a white decoration on top of them arranged neatly on a tray. While A4 fusses with organizing some utensils and complaining about how messy one of the other nuns is, A2 picks up a small loaf. It’s much softer than they expected, and denser. It must be a different kind than the ones A4 brings them. It crumbles easily when they roll a piece between their fingers. The white decoration turns to a sticky liquid when they touch it. Cautiously, they take a bite.

It only takes two bites for A2 to eat the whole loaf.

Whatever this is has to be the sweetest, most amazing thing A2 has ever put in their mouth. It reminds them vaguely of honey, a rare treat back home, but with so much more added to it. They taste a bit of fruit and some of the spices they had sampled in there as well. Suddenly they feel like they’ve been missing out on so much of the world, a feeling that causes tears to well up in their eyes.

A4’s laughter snaps them out of their religious experience. They try to wipe their eyes as nonchalantly as possible, but the nun sees right through their ruse.

“I never thought anyone would react like that to my baking,” she says, smiling from ear to ear.

“Y-...” A2 looks at her with wide eyes, “You made that?”

“Yes,” she giggles. “It was one of the first things I learned to bake. It’s sweet bread.”

A2 thinks they might like this place after all. They reach for a second loaf only for A4 to smack their hand.

“Hey! Save some for the rest of us!” she scolds them, but the smile plastered across her face lets them know there’s no malice at all. A4 leans in close to A2 and drops her voice to a whisper, “If you cooperate with your treatments and behave yourself I can sneak you some.”

Her excitement is infectious. A pleasant warmth rushes through A2’s body as they laugh with her. “Okay, deal.”

...When was the last time they felt like this?

They don’t linger in the kitchen for very long. A4 tugs them along by the hand once again, eager to have A2 meet her mentor at the convent (or to get them away from the food). She says this is the final stop of their tour, which comes as a secret relief to A2. Their legs and arms are starting to ache and despite eating an entire loaf of sweet bread they want to lie in bed for a few hours. Even walking through the dormitory halls takes the wind out of them. They try to hide it as best they can, but A4 gives them a concerned look when she hears them wheeze.

The final stop turns out to be the dormitory’s infirmary. Why the nuns have their own separate medical wing confuses A2, but the group seems eager to keep outsiders away, considering all the strange looks A2 has been on the receiving end. The room is devoid of people aside from two older women. One wears the same plain black dress and white headscarf that the other nuns wear. She hunches over a much more decrepit woman, dressed in a black robe with an intricate geometric pattern on the front, denoting a higher rank, and tends to a wound on her face. As A2 walks closer, they can smell a harsh potion similar to what A4 has been giving them to clean their sores.

“Sister Margaret!” A4 calls and waves, then bows to the older old woman. “Good afternoon, Mother Superior.”

“Good afternoon, sister,” both women answer in unison.

A2 gives a shaky wave, standing behind A4 as if this tiny woman would protect them from awkward social encounters.

“Is this the girl we rescued from the Bog?” Sister Margaret asks, only sparing a glance at A2 before turning back to the wounds on Mother Superior’s face.

They’re about to chime in with their usual response to that assumption, but their words catch in their throat as Mother Superior turns to face them, allowing A2 to see the full extent of her disfigurement.

Her eyes are gone. The only thing that remains are her eyelids, sewn shut, and two circles of thick scar tissue over them. Sister Margaret gently dabs a sharp-smelling cream over the wounds.

“Speak, child,” Mother Superior says, her voice severe but worn with age. “Does my penance frighten you?”

“P-...” A2 stammers, their aloof personality vanishing in an instant, “Penance?”

“Mother please.” Sister Margaret playfully taps her elder on the shoulder. “Don’t scare the poor girl.”

A4, Sister Margaret, and Mother Superior chat while Maragret finishes up with her treatments. The three women all seem to get along, from A2’s perspective, but A4 and Margaret seem far closer. A2 lingers on the edge of the group, waiting for and dreading when attention turns back to them. All the while, they can’t stop looking at Mother Superior and her wounds. The word “penance” echoes in their head over and over and over. They see an iron mask sitting beside the matriarch and swallow a lump forming in their throat.

It isn’t long before Mother Superior stands to leave. She waves her goodbyes, A4 and Sister Margaret bow in return, and the old woman hobbles out of the infirmary, leaning on a wooden cane for support and navigation.

As soon as Mother Superior exits the room, Sister Margaret claps her hands together and approaches A2. “Now! Let's take a look at you…”

This woman has no sense of personal space, A2 thinks. She pulls at their lips to check their teeth, runs her wrinkled hands over their scales and bandages, digs through their hair like she’s looking for ticks, and holds their eyelids open to examine them. They let out a low, annoyed hiss, but allow the old nun to pick them apart like an experiment.

“Looks like you’re doing a good job so far, 4!” Sister Margaret praises. A4 beams with pride. “Keep up with fresh fruit as her main diet, change the bandages daily or more if needed. How are you feeling? Be honest, girl.”

“Uh- I’m not…” They stop, unsure if correcting Sister Margaret about their gender would cause problems. “I’m... still sore. Get tired easily. Get sick if I eat too much.”

Sister Margaret and A4 nod in exactly the same way. “Well,” Margaret begins, “Rest, walks, and a proper diet should put your humors back in check. Don’t keep your condition a secret, there’s no room for the sin of pride in these walls.”

A2 nods, then suddenly chokes on their own spit as Margaret grabs at their upper arm and squeezes their bicep.

“Hooo boy!” she hoots, giving their arm another squeeze, seemingly pleased by how hard the muscle is. “She’s something alright!” Margaret turns to A4, whose face already begins to flush red. “I’ll say this, if she cleaned up, she’d be a snack and a half!”

She laughs at the red faced A4, while A2 stands there with the blank stare of a confused cub.

#nier automata #nier #nier automata fanfiction #A2 #fantasy au #fanfiction #tank in the real

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damoreyunho · 3 years ago

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Vol1 Ch1: Lights

It was a late summer's day, the blue sky above was dotted with white cotton clouds, and Hongjoong sat peacefully on a bench watching the world around him. He watched a flock of pigeons make a fuss over a piece of bread and his eyes followed them as one bird fled with it, the others following, not far behind. He could hear the laughter of families playing with their kids in the open areas of the park. From further away a faint barking sounded from the pet-friendly zone. The air was warm but not hot. A soft little breeze blew past him and some lonely strands of his hair wavered along with it.

It was the last week before summer break ended and everyone were out and about trying to make the best of their remaining free time. The city was bustling with activity as most had already returned home from their vacations. From within the park Hongjoong could barely hear the city noise. Only vaguely if he tried hard enough. On the other hand he could definitely still see it. The city. Beyond the large trees outlining the park rose tall high rise buildings. Some would probably even be considered skyscrapers. The sun's reflection on the glass covered buildings made him squint as he looked up. He closed his eyes for a moment, observing the imprints which the bright light had left in his eyes, before opening them again.

Hongjoong got up, did a little stretch and was about to move on when he noticed something. Or was it actually someone? Crouched beside a flower bed was a young man, probably around the same age as himself. His hair was ash grey with the comma style and an undercut. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. An also black jacket was slung over his left arm.

Hongjoong approached the stranger and stood a little off to one side tilting his head slightly in attempt to see what the other was looking at. He eventually noticed Hongjoong's shadow and stood up. He was quite a bit taller than Hongjoong, but who wasn't taller than him. The eyes of the other were a beautiful smoky grey and it was obvious that his hair color had been chosen to match the eyes. The two of them stared at each other for a moment that felt too long. Hongjoong broke the slightly awkward silence first.

HJ: "Did you find anything of interest?"

???: "Not really."

The taller man glanced down at the flowers uneasily. He seemed slightly flustered by being approached so suddenly.

HJ: "My name is Hongjoong. Do you live nearby? I've not seen you around before."

Hongjoong attempted to spark a conversation between the two of them. The stranger seemed a bit hesitant before replying.

SH: "I am Seonghwa. It is my first time here, though I guess you could say I live nearby."

Seonghwa cracked a small smile. His voice was soft and slightly deep. Even though he spoke quietly, his voice did not tremble at all. It was a voice that undoubtedly held power and probably also a certain level of authority. Hongjoong could not pinpoint which type of person he might be. Could he be a CEO for some company? Maybe he was a big politician? It would definitely be some sort of leadership role though he did not know which.

Quite suddenly it felt like something had changed within Seonghwa. His eyes which had seemed somewhat distant grew warm and welcoming. It was as if they started to focus. Onto Hongjoong to be precise.

SH: "Want to join me for tea?"

Seonghwa spoke warmly and had now turned his body in the direction of a path that would lead them out of the park. Hongjoong nodded and started to walk in the direction which the other had initiated.

──── ⋅ ☾ ⋅ ────

The two of them had found a small cafe in which they were now seated by the window. Seonghwa had tea while Hongjoong had coffee. Hongjoong was slightly worried about the silence between the two of them but he also kind of enjoyed it. There was something comforting about Seonghwa's presence. He just couldn't figure out what.

SH: "Do you go to the park often? You seemed familiar with your surroundings."

Hongjoong adverted his gaze from the street outside to the man opposite of him.

HJ: "I go there when I feel in need for inspiration. I love watching the butterflies during the summer and feeling the warmth of the sun."

SH: "Inspiration?"

Seonghwa's voice was encouraging Hongjoong to continue talking. And he did.

HJ: "I'm an artist in my free time. I like to design my own clothes and accessories."

He stretched out one leg from under the table and tilted his foot to the side. On his shoes were some writing in Hangul, hand-painted onto the sides of them. Seonghwa admired the work for some time before finally looking back at Hongjoong.

SH: "They are really beautiful. You have a unique style."

HJ: "Thank you. I also designed my own phone case!"

Hongjoong could feel the happiness within him. It was so nice to have someone listen and admire something you had put a lot of care and effort into. He held out his phone to Seonghwa who gently accepted the item with his right hand. On the case were two butterflies neatly painted in turquoise. The background was a simple dark blue, nearly black sky with a few white sprinkles for stars.

SH: "Do you like the night?"

Seonghwa's admiration for Hongjoong's work was very apparent. Hongjoong couldn't help but smile proudly.

HJ: "Most butterflies go to sleep during the night. But the stars will always be beautiful. Sadly the light from the city obscures the stars most of the time."

SH: "The butterflies may go to sleep, but this makes way for the moths."

Seonghwa handed the phone back to Hongjoong. He looked as if he was going to add something else. One short thought later he continued.

SH: "I can show you the stars. If you are interested of course."

Hongjoong stared intriguingly at Seonghwa.

HJ: "You can really do that? But we would have to leave for a place outside the city. I don't think there's enough time. I have work tomorrow."

He let out a sigh of dismay. He had seen the stars before, but he did not have a lot of money and he had to work if he wanted to save up money to travel.

SH: "It is not far from here. I do not think it will interfere with any plans you might have."

Seonghwa's voice had perked up at this conversation. His emotions were not easy to read as he did not show many expressions. During the short time Hongjoong had known him, Seonghwa had only shown his resting expression and soft smiles. His composure resembled royalty a lot. At this point Hongjoong was certain that he had met a significant person. Suspicions of him being an actor arose. Of course every muscle in his face was under control if he were an actor.

SH: "Do I have something on my face?"

Hongjoong's mind jerked back into reality. He had been staring mindlessly at Seonghwa while deep in thought.

HJ: "Ah no! I'm sorry. I was thinking about something."

He laughed awkwardly feeling his cheeks heat up. Whilst watching Seonghwa pay for their drinks, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful his hands were. They were not big but they were slender and elegant. One single ring adorned the middle finger of his right hand. Hongjoong got up before Seonghwa and headed for the exit. Seonghwa followed not far behind.

──── ⋅ ☾ ⋅ ────

The sun had set not long ago. The sky was now deep orange to the west, purple above and deep blue to the east. Hongjoong was walking along the park road beside a man he had just met that same day. Why he had agreed to join Seonghwa for a walk in the middle of the night, he did not know. But Seonghwa seemed genuine and Hongjoong disliked limiting himself because of distrust. The two of them stepped off the pavement and onto a path that would lead them into the depths of the park.

HJ: "So... How will you be able to show me the stars? The park is isolated but we're still in the middle of a huge city."

SH: "Just wait."

Hongjoong was unsure if he had heard a smile in Seonghwa's voice or it was just his imagination. He discreetly searched the other's face for any clues of his intentions but did not learn anything. Had it been a bad idea to go through with this? There was still time to turn back if he wanted to. Hongjoong's doubt made the rhythm of his walking irregular for a moment. But the moment was long enough for Seonghwa to notice. He halted and looked at Hongjoong.

SH: "It is alright. We are nearly there."

He smiled and turned his gaze from Hongjoong towards a smaller path that lead off the main path and into an overgrowth of trees and bushes. Hongjoong let Seonghwa take the lead down the path and followed behind. It wasn't long before the trees had blocked out all the city lights.

HJ: "I can't see anything."

Hongjoong walked slowly and took small steps to avoid falling over when he suddenly felt a hand clasp around his left wrist. Upon instinct he tried to pull away. The hand held him firmly but not harshly.

SH: "It is not far. I will lead you."

Hongjoong heard no concern in Seonghwa's voice.

HJ: " How can you see? And how can I trust you? We're in the middle of a dark park all alone. This feels very deceptive."

Before Seonghwa could reply, they stepped out and into a clearing. It was still dark, but it was bright enough for Hongjoong to make out the contour of a lake. Seonghwa let go of Hongjoong's wrist.

SH: "We have arrived."

Hongjoong looked up at the sky but saw nothing but the crescent moon.

SH: "Try looking down."

A smirk was apparent in his voice as he spoke. Hongjoong hesitantly approached the lakeside. He felt on edge with Seonghwa behind him but as long as he could hear that Seonghwa didn't move, he felt fairly safe. As Hongjoong neared the waters edge he saw it. In the water were countless lights. He looked up at the sky then at the water and then back again. No stars were visible in the sky, yet the surface reflected a hemisphere full of stars. Hongjoong spun around to face Seonghwa expecting him to have moved. He hadn't.

HJ: "How is this possible? How can I see the reflections of stars that aren't visible?"

His voice was filled with both awe and wonder.

SH: "The lake is filled with magical creatures that light up the lake. They feast tonight and the fires of their large ovens can be seen as the brightest lights."

Hongjoong looked at Seonghwa with an expression that told him to be serious. And for the first time since they had met, Seonghwa's composure faltered and he let out a soft giggle.

SH: "I am sorry. I do not know why this lake reflects the stars even though they cannot be seen in the sky. My best guess is that there is something in the water that allows it to reflect light in a certain way. Either that or there are insects or bugs with luminescent bodies."

HJ: "The lights don't seem to move so it's probably the first option."

The two of them were quiet and Hongjoong turned back to the water to look at the lights.

HJ: "Would you not want to see it too? Come join me."

He waved his hand in a motion that invited Seonghwa to join him but Seonghwa simply shook his head and stayed back.

──── ⋅ ☾ ⋅ ────

Besides the moon, the sky was now completely dark. Seonghwa had agreed to walk Hongjoong to his exit of the park.

HJ: "Thank you for showing me that. It was really beautiful. I had no idea that lake was even there."

SH: "The path is vey hard to find. I am almost certain that no one knows about it. I accidentally stumbled upon it when looking through the park one evening."

HJ: "What were you even looking for when we met. You were almost sitting in a flower bed."

SH: "Ah. I was primarily admiring the colourful flowers but I was also searching for something. I did not find anything though."

They observed each other shortly, before Seonghwa spoke again.

SH: "It is late. You should go home and get some sleep. I remember you said you have work tomorrow."

HJ: "Yeah. Sadly. Thank you for a nice day though."

He hesitated before proceeding.

HJ: "Do you think we could exchange numbers? I'd love to see you again."

SH: "I- Yes. I would love to see you again too. Actually. I think I will be around in the park quite often from now on. Come by and we might meet again."

Hongjoong noticed how Seonghwa avoided the question but he let it pass. He was probably not comfortable enough to share his number yet. They had just met that same day after all.

HJ: "Yes. I will definitely come by. I'll see you soon."

Both men moved but neither knew what they wanted to do. They were not familiar enough for a hug but waving whilst standing face to face would be weird too. It was really awkward but Seonghwa eventually stepped back and bid the final goodbye. Hongjoong watched him walk off back into the park. And as Seonghwa walked away he could not help but notice how beautiful he looked as the moonlight lit up his tall figure.

──── ⋅ ☾ ⋅ ────

First time posting on tumblr. Let’s see how this goes XD

↓ these are the shoes Hongjoong designed. Both in this story and in real life

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pixieungerstories · 4 years ago

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The Captive - 5

My stories always turn up here after they are finished on Patreon. This one is a $1/month novel, so if you can’t wait, you can subscribe for the month of September and binge read the whole thing. I just checked my stats and apparently I have over 250 chapters of assorted works up there. $5/month will get you access to all of them.

“You slept in today, tre- Elly,” George observed. “The boy was quite worried.”

“Ben? Nah. He was fine.”

George snorted, “He does not approach the stairs that often when you are on time.”

Elly froze. “What would you have done if he had gone up them?”

George turned to peer at her out of the darkness, his eyes glowing faintly. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence. “There is a chesterfield down here that matches the chair you are sitting upon.”

“Wait, who even calls it a chesterfield anymore?”

George bristled, “I do,” he said quietly. “What do you call it?”

“A sofa.”

“If you understand the word, why comment on my choice of it?”

“Sorry,” Elly said softly.

George settled slightly back onto the floor. “I would like you to sleep on it tonight.”

Elly blinked. “Down here? You can’t be serious.”

“I am. I have cleaned the fireplace. I will allow you to bring your horrible lights,” he conceded graciously.

“You are serious!” she was shocked.

“Of course I am. You have not invited me into your space, so I am respecting that and requesting you spend the night in mine.”

Elly considered this. It was dark. It wasn’t damp. It certainly wasn’t cold and George could easily adjust the temperature if she needed it. Hell, he was acting as the furnace after all. “Why did you need to clean the fireplace? I mean, you are the fireplace.”

“It helps with ventilation and you can use it for cooking, if needed.”

Elly wondered what he thought she would be cooking overnight in her sleep. “I don’t understand why you are asking me that.”

George gave a frustrated and slightly steamy sigh. “I understand that you tend the shop during the day. I understand that you do the shopping and go out for chores on the days the shop is closed. Nonetheless the end result is that I receive only a minimal amount of your time. You aren’t holding up your end of the bargain, treasure.”

“I am!” Elly protested. “I live here and take care of the place and I’m never out after dark!”

“That isn’t the bargain, Elly. The arrangement has you here to keep me company. The shop is just supposed to be a hobby for you.”

“A hobby? No. A hobby is something you enjoy. I’m only running the shop because I like eating food and sleeping indoors.”

George’s brow wrinkled. “You have money, you don’t need to work.”

“What reality are you living in George?”

“The one where there is a trust set up for whoever is living here,” he explained impatiently. “All you have to do is present with a copy of your birth certificate and sign the paperwork.”

Elly blinked. George sighed again, noticeably raising the humidity in the room. “If you dial the telephone for me, we can call the lawyers in the morning. It has been awhile since I have spoken to Mr Biddu. It is probably well past time.”

She swallowed, “Maybe it has been embezzled or something.”

George’s teeth glittered in the light of the lamp. “Oh, I doubt it. Your law firm is in on the secret. I have spent a lot of effort on guarding my treasure. And whether you like it or not, that includes you, Elly.”

“This is a lot to take in,” she murmured. “Why do you want me to sleep with you?”

There was a faint choking noise before George replied. “You are here to keep me company. I was giving you a chance to settle after moving to a new place. It has been months since you arrived. It is past time.”

Elly considered this. “I don’t want to sleep down here, George. It’s too dark and scary.”

He didn’t reply, but just kept watching her.

“Um… If you sleep in my room, do I have to worry about a fire?”

“No,” was the cold reply.

“Do I have to worry about getting you down the stairs before Ben sees you?”

She could swear he smirked at that. “No,” he replied. “I can be discreet if you insist.”

Elly pursed her lips and looked at the stairs. “All right. If we push the bed against the wall, there should be room for you on the floor.”

George chuckled, “It sounds like you need a bigger bed.”

“I like my bed!” she protested.

George let that one slide. Apparently he wasn’t going to push his luck yet. He followed her up the stairs, close enough that she could feel his breath on the small of her back. She could hear his claws clicking on the floor as they went.

“I don’t have my space set up for … someone as large as you. Just … please be careful not to break anything.”

“I will be very careful with your treasures, Elly.”

Elly fought not to laugh. There were some very nice antiques that had come with the house, but none of it was hers. She had brought a lot of books, a lot of shelves and a desk that was set up to be ergonomic for her. It was all still in boxes in the room she wanted as an office. She had hit the ground running here and hadn’t had a chance to even unpack her things.

Looking at him in this space she was amazed he hadn’t smashed the furniture on his way to her room. She gave the couch a shove to make a little more room for him.

“May I?”

She looked at him watching her. What the hell, it wasn’t her couch. “Sure.”

George muscled it aside, widening the space behind it. Then he crept back and moved the chairs and coffee table to keep the grouping the same. “I liked the way Ann had the furniture arranged better.”

Elly gritted her teeth. She should really just let it go, as long has he remembered her name, that was the important thing. But still, “Her name was Ina. And I don’t know how she had the furniture before, but I haven’t moved any of it since I got here.”

He went very still at that. There was a long pause, when he spoke he almost sounded like he could cry. It was the first emotion other than irritation Elly had seen out of him. “Ann was before her. She was my friend.”

Elly didn’t know what to say to that, then the enormity of it hit her. Ina had been here for the last fifty years. George hadn’t known her name. So either Ina hadn’t insisted he learn or that was a really long time to be alone.

Shit.

No wonder he was so insistent on spending time with her. How did the idea of solitary confinement even apply to George? Reptiles made shitty pets because they were solitary creatures as compared to dogs, which lived in packs or cats which at least lived in colonies. But was George even a reptile? He was definitely warm blooded. She couldn’t get her head around the temperature thing. Or… any of it really. If magic was just science people didn’t understand yet, then George sure as shit was a magical creature.

He was watching her.

Elly blinked. “Um… I guess that’s why the doors are all so wide.” George inclined his head, giving her an off centre nod of agreement. “I’m not attached to the furniture layout. We can rearrange it on the weekend if you want.”

“Thank you tr - Elly.”

“Did you call Ina treasure too?”

George narrowed his eyes for a moment before he closed them entirely.

Elly hesitated before asking, “Did you actually talk to her at all?”

“In the beginning, as much as I talk to you now. I did not demand more of her time and over the years that dwindled to her simply bringing me food, then leaving before I had eaten it.”

“That sounds lonely.”

George’s eyes snapped open and he glared at her.

Elly took an involuntary step back. “Um!” she blurted out trying to diffuse the situation. “We should move the bed over against one of the walls in the room.”

She opened the french doors to her room. All the doors in the apartment where french doors, but they were all a weird size. Each door was only slightly larger than two feet wide, so that when you opened the both the doorway was unusually wide but opening only one was uncomfortably small. George would have no problems fitting through a wheelchair accessible door and could probably squeeze though a standard door, but watching him ease through the double doors it was clear that this space had been designed to fit him.

“You are staring, treasure.”

Elly opened her mouth to correct him on her name, then snapped it shut when she realized he was being rude to point out her rudeness. If you would have asked her a year ago to pick a word to describe dragons, snarky wouldn’t have made her top twenty. Big, reptilian, and snarky. George’s back legs were short like an alligator's. They weren’t any longer than his arms, which were uncomfortably human looking. She was sure if he stood up he would be seven feet tall. His face was almost human, maybe a little longer in the snout. She was sure his skull had to be closer to that of a gorilla than to any reptile she could think of.

His lips curled back to show sharp, inhuman teeth. “If you are going to stare at me, just tell me to go.”

“I haven’t ever really looked at you,” Elly admitted. “I always made a point of not staring.”

“You can stop now,” he snarled.

Elly flinched, then turned and scooped up her sleep shorts. “I’ll go brush my teeth. You will do a better job of rearranging the furniture than I could anyway.”

#Free Fic Friday #exophilia #dragon boyfriend #novel #Monster

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peterstanslizzie · 4 years ago

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Reacting To: Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (Season 3 Episode 2)

Episode Title: Code Word Milkshake

Spoiler Warning: Kindly proceed if you’ve already seen the episode or are able to handle spoilers

1. OMG! A K-pop song? That’s so cool! It sounds like BTS lol. And the song is pretty catchy too 🎵; “Dive into my ocean of love”. It’s such a bop! We see the mutes (even the Mod Frogs) fangirling HARD. But what animals are these guys supposed to be? Are they dolphins? But why do they have horns? And apparently abs as well:

2. Aww but the leader of the group, Hyun Soo (as revealed in the subtitles) soon gets paralyzed by a dart and is kidnapped after signing fan autographs. And of course, it’s the doing of Dr. Emilia as she’s seen testing a serum sample on Hyun Soo. Again, I’m impressed with her ability to be so stealthy. However, she’s finding it difficult in getting the right formula for the genetic serum since none of the samples she’s used so far has worked on the kidnapped mutes. BTW, Jamack talking to Hyun Soo is hilarious.

3. In Timbercat Village, Kipo is planning with HMUFA a mission to find Emilia, rescue their friends and retrieve Song’s research journal. Oh, did Asher get a haircut? If so, they look really nice.

4. Our boy, Benson wants Troy to come along because he feels safer when he’s around. How precious! I’m happy he gets to go on a mission with Kipo for the first time too. It’s nice to mix groups up sometimes. And it looks like it’s just gonna be a human/hybrid-only mission because the mutes won’t be able to handle Emilia’s sonic emitter. Dave is upset that he won’t be able to tag along with them. I think it’s a good thing to sit this one out because he does have a tendency to die during their missions lol.

5. They manage to hitch a ride on a couple of dragonfly mutes due to Kipo coming up with the codeword, “Milkshake” to keep situations calm. Random but okay. As they’re flying over the sea, they spot a ship, which definitely belongs to Emilia since we hear Zane asking Greta to turn on the sonic emitter as some mysterious sea creature was circling around them. Because the dragonflies are not immune to the sound, this causes them all to fall into the water

6. The group tries to climb over the ship to get a peek of the situation aboard and they can see the burrow humans enjoying their time there, splish-splashing in a giant pool paired with a crazy slide and everything.

7. Dave lets Lio and Roberto know that he wants to have a boys night out (BNO) with them. But it’s clear that he’s doing this because he still feels salty about not being included in the stealth mission. Roberto looks like he doesn’t want to go out but Lio is down to hangout with Dave-o lol.

8. Back on the Dr. Emilia’s ship, Kipo and gang try to find her lab but they almost got spotted by a blonde human girl, who apparently is able to hear Hyun Soo sing through the cafeteria vents and thus, wants him to sing for her. Kipo and Troy actually recognize her from their old burrow. She’s actually Hoag’s daugther, Doag! I can’t believe he named his daughter that lol. Anyways, they were all actually friendly with one another, so we shall see if she’s willing to help them or not. Doag really likes dancing and we see her dancing around to Hyun Soo’s singing. She then does a split and spots them. Well, she doesn’t look alarmed actually.

9. Meanwhile, Dave and Lio are playing cards but afterward, they went to check out the so-called “community bonding” session between Timbercats and the Umlaut snakes. At first, it seems like they are having a huge argument but they’re actually just writing a song and having a couple of debates. It’s song-break time. This time, the song is called ‘Friendship Alliance’. How fitting. After the performance, Lio says he wants to go to bed but Dave isn’t done yet and wants him to check out his secret stash of explosion berry cola.

10. Doag explains to the group that Dr. Emilia has been treating them nicely so far but they want her to know the truth about Emilia who has been trying to kill Kipo since she was a baby. Plus, according to Troy (and Benson from earlier on), she didn’t eat his Benson’s pancakes. Troy is way more upset about the part about the pancakes, which of course he has to be since it’s his boo’s pancakes. But my goodness, Doag’s voice is like nails on the chalkboard. Don’t you agree?

11. I think it’s hard for them to convince her that Dr. Emilia is a bad person, especially since they don’t have any real evidence to show. Emilia is like a savior to these humans. Fortunately, Doag wants to help them rescue Boom-Boom, Jamack, Camille and Hyun Soo regardless.

12. She takes them to Dr. Emilia’s lab, which isn’t very hidden like they said lol. The door’s locked but Troy, the skilled magician was able to pick the lock no problem. Benson is impressed and he actually addressed him as his boyfriend! Cute!

13. They enter the lab and we see all the kidnapped mutes trapped in their individual mute-proof cells. Aww the way Jamack called Kipo, Burrow Girl was so sweet. He has come a really long way with her since Season 1 huh? I don’t know what’s up with Boom-Boom but she(?) doesn’t look too good, almost unhinged. So, Hyun Soo is known as a Dolphicon! I guess that’s short for Dolphin and Unicorn. That’s explains the horn. I actually like the name “Wall Siren” for him as well. Despite only speaking in Korean, Hyun Soo does seem to understand English when Doag asks him “who are you?”. I feel like the introduction of Hyun Soo is like paying homage to Kipo’s animation studio, Studio Mir, which is in fact South Korean.

14. Kipo proceeds to then break them out of their cells. Doag declares she’s going to help them escape. I actually hope there’s a chance that she would be part of Kipo’s group officially. She seems cool, mostly lol. Wolf also finds Song’s research journal but before they could make their escape, the traumatized Boom-Boom looks at the needles Dr. Emilia has been using on her, freaks out and drops her nectar bombs on them, which causes the whole lab to explode. Boom-Boom needs therapy for sure. Ughh…Wolf also accidentally drops the journal and leaves it behind the lab. That book is probably destroyed.

15. Back at Timbercat village, I assume Lio had already drank the cola before he is super hyped. Yumyan also joins in on their shenanigans and he gives them the idea to steal Molly’s axe and put it in an axe bush (is that what Yumyan said?). Also, is this supposed to be a pun or something?

16. Doag puts Hyun Soo in their getaway boat but it’s weird since he’s a dolphin and can just swim in the water instead lol. They’re supposed to leave now but Kipo wants to face Emilia now. I say she’s making a bad decision here. Dr. Emilia then arrive with Greta and Zane but Wolf takes out the latter two easily. The rest of the humans come out to the deck to see what the ruckus is all about and Emilia tries to play coy and innocent with them.

17. Hoag notices that his daughter isn’t around. Our heroes try to explain to the humans that Dr. Emilia is the bad guy; They told about how Song is the Mega Monkey and how she got her to attack and destroy their home back in Season 1. And they explain that she mind-controlled Song to kill her own daughter.

Even grandma can deliver a beatdown on someone lol

18.The humans are reluctant to believe them because it does sound very farfetched. But c’mon…they should know by know that Las Vistas is a messed up place; Anything can happen. Also, don’t they remember the Mega Monkey saving them from getting gilded in Season 2. Suddenly, Hoag makes an attempt to paralyze Kipo with one of the darts but she quickly reacts and knocks him out. The humans see this and they get mad at her. Eventually, Kipo and the others make their escape. Finally.

19. Back to Lio and Dave. We find out towards the end that Molly actually killed Dave 5 times for the stunt he pulled on her lol. Anyways, the both of them are glad to have this bonding session with one another since Kipo isn’t around.

20. Our heroes reach land but Doag wants to go back because she knows her dad is worried sick about her. And so, Hyun Soo and I guess the rest of his groupmates are bringing her back there. Aww, she should’ve stayed but I understand why she wants to go back to the ship. But to be honest, somebody should’ve thought to give her a communicator or a walkie-talkie or something because at least they can know what Dr. Emilia’s next move is. Perhaps they don’t really have to think too much into it since the journals has been decimated and all…or is it?

21. Wolf, I hope you’re happy you dropped the journal lol. Dr. Emilia figures out that Kipo is X. Wait, I’m trying to remember if there any mention of X in the previous episodes. Anyways, I wonder what she’s going to do with the fur Kipo left during their last confrontation. I guess since Kipo is a human who also has the DNA of apex predators, Emilia is going to play with her recombinant DNA and figure out a way to reverse the effects of the mute DNA so that only the normal DNA will be present? I dunno….

22. Last note/tiny bit of criticism: Is it just me or do you guys sometimes think that some of the character designs look a little wonky in this episode? Sometimes, I felt like Kipo, Benson and even Troy look a little off in some frames. Anyways, that’s the end of my review of episode 2. Stay tuned tomorrow for my review of episode 3. Thanks for reading everybody!

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