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jewelleria · 4 years ago

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if i had a heartbeat — remus lupin

summary: the gryffindor common room is warm and welcoming, but not as much as the arms of one of your favourite people after a tiring day for the both of you.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: fluffy fluff, angst but not really, cuddling.

a/n: this is my first oneshot here on tumblr, so i hope you all like it! i wrote this for a writing challenge celebrating @yourssuccubus reaching 400 followers (prompts are in bold)!! congrats sarah, i hope you enjoy this <3

“Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“No, silly,” said a voice from behind you. “I’m Sirius.”

Whipping around, you rolled your eyes at the taller boy standing next to your chair. Sirius was carrying two books — a rare occurrence, to be sure — and was leaning against one of the many shelves that lined the Hogwarts library. His usual smirk made you purse your lips.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” you snarled. “How long has it been, an hour?”

Smiling sheepishly, Sirius let the textbooks in his arms spill onto the table the two of you were sharing. You narrowed your eyes at the cover of the first one.

“Sirius, I just put that book back,” you sighed. “If you’re going to pretend to help with this project, at least do it right.”

Scowling at you, Sirius propped his feet up on the desk, and you moved your chair sideways in disdain. For some time, the two of you stayed that way — you bent over a roll of parchment, your quill making rhythmic scritch-scratch noises as you wrote, and Sirius flipping absent-mindedly through a textbook without really reading it.

“Are you done yet?” Sirius asked after a while, his voice taking on an irritating whine.

You looked up and raised an eyebrow. “I’d already be done if you actually helped me.”

“Hey, you’re the one who offered to do it all yourself,” Sirius pointed out, shrugging. “And I didn’t ask to be paired up with you, you know.”

“Well, neither did I,” you snapped, setting down your quill and crossing your arms in front of your chest, “but since both of our partners are conveniently absent, there didn’t seem to be much of a choice, did there?”

“Look,” Sirius began, swinging his feet off the table. “They’re not conveniently —”

“Really? Last I saw him, James was running down the first floor corridor with a bag of Honeydukes chocolate,” you said, shaking your head as you fiddled with the end of your eagle-feather quill. “And Merlin only knows where Remus has been — I haven’t seen him for the past two days.”

For a moment, you almost saw Sirius swallow nervously, but he quickly replaced it with a smirk. “Well, everyone’s got to skip class once in a while, eh?”

“No.” You closed your eyes, rubbing your temples to ease an oncoming headache. “I miss Remus.”

“Oh, do you now?” Sirius asked slyly.

“Not like that, stupid,” you scolded, gathering up your belongings and putting them in your bag and feeling the back of your neck heat up. “He’s just... more tolerable when it comes to assignments.”

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” Sirius said, not moving from his chair as you stood up and slung your bag over your shoulder. He watched curiously as you pushed your chair back in. “Giving up, are we?”

“No, I’ll finish it tomorrow,” you sighed. “C’mon, it’s getting late. Don’t want Filch to catch us.”

“Oh, sweet, innocent Y/N!” Sirius exclaimed dramatically, jumping up from his chair and pretending to faint. “Don’t you know me well enough to know I never get caught?”

“Your detention last night says otherwise.”

Sirius ignored you as the two of you left the library and walked in silence down the corridors and back to Gryffindor tower. The evening sky wasn’t yet dark, but you could see from the windows you passed that the dark blue would soon fade to black, and the air in the castle would get colder, just as it always did at night. Blowing out a quiet breath, you stopped in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait and waited until Sirius gave the password (which you usually tended to forget) and the portrait swung open.

You clambered through the portrait hole after Sirius, setting your bag down next to the nearest sofa and collapsing onto the soft, overstuffed cushions. Sirius called a hasty goodnight before skipping up the stairs to the boys’ dorm, calling Peter’s name.

The common room was silent except for the steady crackling of the hearth, and most of the students save for a few seventh years had gone up to bed. You closed your eyes, nudging off both of your shoes with your toe and letting the fire warm your socks.

From behind the sofa where you sat, the sound of the portrait hole opening reached your ears, followed by a whisper and a quiet laugh. You used your elbows to push yourself up and turned around, peeking over the back of the sofa. There, standing next to the now closed portrait, stood James Potter and Remus Lupin.

You narrowed your eyes and started to stand up when you laid eyes on Remus and had to stifle a gasp. He looked — and there was no other word for it — like death. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than when you’d last seen him, and he’d gained a new scar, the angry red mark stretching from his collarbone to his jawline.

It wasn’t uncommon for Remus to disappear every once in a while. It was never for too long, and hardly lasted for more than a day; but he never came back with injuries. At least, not visible ones.

And his excuse was always the same: his mother was ill. According to Remus, she’d been ill for the past six years, since you’d started Hogwarts.

As you watched, James squeezed Remus’s shoulder gently and adjusted his hold on the same Honeydukes bag he’d been running down the first floor corridor with. “Want me to help you upstairs, mate?”

“No, it’s fine,” Remus muttered, rubbing his eyes. “I need to finish an assignment.”

James nodded and retreated up the stairs, just brushing your arm, and you sank back into the sofa cushions, frowning. Where had Remus been? Why had James gone with him? And, for Merlin’s sake, was Remus okay?

Your friendship with the Marauders had started at the beginning of the year. Really, none of you knew how it came to be, only that Remus was an exceptional study partner and that his friends never failed to make you laugh so hard it hurt.

But this... this was worrying.

A shadow made you look up. Remus was standing beside the sofa, evidently trying to back away before you noticed him, but it was too late. You smiled softly at him.

“What were you doing out so late?” you asked quietly, moving over to make room for Remus, who sat down beside you with tensed shoulders.

“Erm, prefect duties,” Remus mumbled, fidgeting with his hands in his lap.

“James isn’t a prefect.”

Remus swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as his honey-coloured eyes darted nervously from side to side. “We were — he was just —”

“It’s alright,” you interrupted, leaning forward just slightly. “I won’t pry.”

After a moment of silence, Remus nodded and pulled his knees to his chin, staring at the dying flames. He looked pale, and the shadows made his features look hollow — sickly, even. It was hard to believe he was only sixteen, with the dimmed look in his eyes and the scars that seemed older than him.

Taking a deep breath, you tucked your socked feet under you and reached out a hand, resting it gently on Remus’s forearm. He looked up at you, and something in him seemed to give, because the moment the two of you made eye contact, Remus’s demeanour relaxed and he let go of his legs, letting them rest on the couch with his feet touching the carpet.

“But I am worried about you, Remus,” you admitted, and the moment the words left your mouth, he broke eye contact. “Are you alright?”

Letting out a small sigh, Remus ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve just had a rough day.”

You nodded. “Those happen to the best of us.” You nudged his shoulder with your elbow. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Slowly, Remus shook his head and moved hand to rest on yours; you felt a blush start to form on your cheeks, and internally chided the rebellious fluttering in your chest. It’s just Remus, you reminded yourself. Get it together.

“Not really,” Remus replied, his voice lowering to a whisper. "I’d rather you just hold me.”

“Oh,” you breathed, wishing your hands weren’t sweating so much as you watched Remus’s eyes widen and his cheeks turn the colour of his Gryffindor jumper.

“I — I just meant —” Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “That came out wrong, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that —”

“Hey,” you said gently, trying to channel the sort of energy Lily did whenever someone was upset and inwardly cursing your voice for shaking. “It’s fine. If you need a hug, I’ll give you one.” You shrugged. “Honestly, I could use a hug, too.”

Remus didn’t answer, so you scooted forward until your knees were touching and rested your arm on the back of the sofa so your hand was level with his head. Hesitantly, you carded your hand through the soft brown curls, running a lock of hair softer than silk between your fingers. Remus leaned his head against your forearm and let out a contented sigh that made your heart rate speed up.

Peering up at you through his eyelashes, Remus’s lips twitched slightly, but his blush didn’t fade — and so, before you could lose your courage, you whispered, “You still want that hug, or what?”

"If... if it’s okay,” Remus muttered.

You nodded and leaned against the back of the sofa, letting Remus sink into your embrace and put his head on your chest. Slowly, you adjusted your position until you were lying on the sofa with Remus curled into your side, his head resting just above your heart, which was beating so fast you almost thought it would explode.

Because Merlin, this was Remus — quiet, shy, closed-off Remus, who you didn’t know as well as James, Peter, and Sirius, and who had always seemed like he didn’t like touching other people. Aside from the fact that he was your study partner, the two of you rarely talked one-on-one, and now here he was, falling asleep on your chest.

But instead of speaking, you just continued to play with Remus’s hair, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. It didn’t help; your heart was still beating so loudly that you were sure Remus could hear it.

Reaching down, you ran your thumb over Remus’s cheekbone, watching as the corners of his lips turned upwards. After a few seconds of silence, Remus extended his arm across your torso, rubbing his own thumb over the dip in your hips, as if to say don’t let go.

And so, despite the deafening pounding of your heart in your ears, you buried your face into Remus’s hair and closed your eyes.

“Your heartbeat is calming,” Remus whispered into your collarbone, and you opened your eyes slowly, wondering if this was all just a surreal sort of dream.

“I’m certainly not calm,” you mumbled, and Remus’s shoulders shook slightly as he chuckled.

“Well, I’m not either,” Remus replied, so quietly you had to strain your ears. “So we’re even.”

Letting your eyelids flutter closed, you intertwined your legs with Remus’s and continued to rub your thumb on the soft skin of his cheek. The crackling of the fire in the hearth was the only sound apart from the heartbeat both of you could hear.

request a fic / masterlist

#yourssuccubus400writingchallenge #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #marauders imagine #the marauders #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #james potter #peter pettigrew #marauders era

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morimakesfanart · 3 years ago

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Sindria's Prophet #14

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13]

[AO3]

~POV Mori~

I woke up when it was still dark out. Only the faintest light came in my windows.

I hadn't done anything yesterday. Just laid down and rested for the first time in a long time. The doctor's were convinced I needed one more day of rest, but I knew I was already better. When was the last time I had just let my body rest like that when I wasn't sick? I couldn't remember. This peace was nice.

The quiet of sunrise was only broken by the faint sound of bird calls in the distance. I sat up and closed my eyes. I focused everything on my other senses. I couldn't hear the ocean easily from here. I had wanted to use the sounds of the waves to meditate, but I would just have to do without.

It had been a few days since I last checked in with myself and really focused inward. I could still feel them, all of the Black Rukh that had merged with me back in Balbadd. They were much calmer than before. And they felt like a part of me now, like I might be incomplete if they were suddenly gone. I knew each one from the dreams too. Their lives were mine and each also now knew my life as their own.

Going through all of their lives on the ship would have been painful even without being sick. These were angry souls and they did not welcome the inner peace I was offering easily, but a person's Rukh doesn't lie. After reading this world's truth through my memories they all calmed.

All of us lived lives of loss and poverty and trauma. That must have been another part of why we were able to fully merge in such a short time.

As Black Rukh they couldn't return to the Great Flow where the rest of their loved ones were, but they at least had each other within me.

It was a very strange feeling.

And along with their lives and Rukh, their magoi was also now mine. What had felt like a small pool now felt like a large lake. I had a lot more magoi at my disposal now that they were fully integrated with me.

The Great Bell range and I grounded myself in the present.

Only then did it occur to me that I was probably sick, and suffering from the influx of Rukh separately at the same time. It had been both all along. Whatever illness I had was worsened by my situation with the Rukh. I hadn't lost my magoi manipulation during it, but it was probably learning it ahead of time that had saved me. There's no way such a large amount of Rukh entering me wouldn't have made my body unstable.

Would the doctors understand if I explained it to them? I should ask Sinbad before saying something unnecessary.

The dim light from my windows called to me. I got out of my bed, put on my glasses, and sat on the sill of one them at the encouragement of the waves.

Like this, I could look down and see the Palace court yard. On the other side of the court yard were the Silver Scorpio (martial arts training), and Black Libra (libraries & schools) Towers, behind them to the left was the Red Cancer Tower (military) and fully to the left was the Purple Leo Tower where Sinbad lived. Since I was on a high floor I could easily see all of the towers of the Palace from my windows -all except the White Capricorn Tower where Ja'far does most of his work since that building was on the other side of this one.

It was so strange. Looking at all this made it real that I was really here. How many times had I reread or rewatched scenes wondering what it would feel like to be here?

I rested my head on the window frame as I watched the growing light from the sunrise.

The guards changed.

The sun was fully risen. Ja'far would be waking up Sinbad soon if he hadn't already.

Two people walked out of the Purple Leo Tower -a guard and a woman. She wasn't wearing a uniform. In fact she was wearing less than the citizens I saw the other day.

"Oh, right."

Sinbad has a call girl see to him after Ja'far wakes him up.

I had the 3rd fan book for the anime which contains a day-in-the-life for a bunch of the main characters. It was only in Japanese, but I had learned enough (and could look up what I didn't know) to at least read his schedule.

The direct translation was for a "temporary woman" which from what I've found is the Japanese term for a fem sex worker. I've seen some translations for Magi's extra material refer to them as "call girls" so that was the term I chose to use.

The franchise used the word "harem" in a bunch of places, but purposely didn't use it here. That combined with an omake of Sinbad having a nightmare about being married and having a harem made it clear that Sinbad did not have a harem; he had the whole red-light district of his country to choose from.

Hold on... That book wasn't supposed to reach my house until after I had Isekaied so how did I know it's contents? There were barely any scans or photos of pages online-

*Knock knock*

My thoughts

were cut off when breakfast arrived -with more medicine of course.

---

~POV Sinbad~

Nearly a week had passed since King Sinbad had arrived home. There was a lot to catch up on. As much as he wanted to finally relax after everything that happened in Balbadd he didn't really have the time for it. Even after catching up he would still have to prepare for his trip to the Kou Empire. And Ja'far wasn't letting him forget either responsibility.

None of this stopped him from having his slow mornings. He at least gave himself that little slice of heaven.

This was business as usual -at least it was supposed to be- but Sinbad couldn't shake a growing feeling that he couldn't name. It was making him unsettled. The waves didn't give him any answers and drinking hadn't made it go away. It felt similar to missing important.

He wasn't missing any paperwork. There had been an issue with one of their supply ships going missing, and another being delayed, but he had already decided how to proceed. He was definitely interested in the progress the Black Libra Tower was making with testing Mori's theories, but the experiments would take time and they had already scheduled a meeting for an update. The new guests were still settling in. Alibaba was a mess and Aladdin was only marginally better the last time he had visited, but Morgiana was fine and already training with Masrur regularly. According to the doctors reports, Mori would be better in another day or so, and the reports he got from the maids said she was resting every day after giving that partial scroll.

Maybe this was impatience. Aside from his paperwork, everything interesting was either done or waiting for the next step.

Sinbad often walked his country in the evening, but there was no reason he couldn't check on things now. He didn't have time to go for a walk at that moment, but he could spare the magoi needed to use Zepar and fly around the country using the bird he had possessed with the Djinn's power. This wouldn't be the first time he'd done this while working on paperwork.

The bird was sitting on a railing in the city center when Sinbad took over. From this spot he could make some quick rounds in the city and then maybe make a stop in the Black Libra Tower to get a sneak peak at what they had found out so far.

The same old gossip filled most of the streets. Some price complaints, who just had a child, how work was going...

"You're serious? A prophet?”

"My husband saw the scrolls she made from her visions with his own two eyes."

Now that was new gossip.

Sinbad had the bird land near by the two women.

"Oh? What was in them?"

"He said it was like reading secrets of the world."

"Really???"

"Mhmm." She nodded. "Not everyone believes it though so they are all working to test her writing."

"Didn't you just say she was brought in by our King? Do they really think he'd be fooled by some false prophet?"

"I said the same thing! And you know what my husband said? He said that they need to find proof even if they believe the Prophet because otherwise we won't be able to prove it to our allied countries."

"I guess that makes sense..."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Oh! I think I might know what she looks like!”

"What? How? You only learned about her just now."

"When King Sinbad came home, there was a girl on some magical flying cloth, remember? That has to have been the Prophet!"

"I think you're right!"

To two moved on to some other gossip and King had the bird fly towards the Palace. Listening to talk about his Beautiful Prophet reminded him of his mission to peek at what was happening in the Black Libra Tower. Being able to bypass the stairs and the gates made the journey much faster.

The Sun was already in the western side of the sky. Shadows were cast onto the court yard from the Black Libra Tower. The stone of the Green Sagittarius Tower was nearly blinding white from the direct light. Color flashed in the corner of his eye as the bird flew past the upper levels of the guest tower. Before his thoughts had fully registered the familiar shade of nearly black indigo, Sinbad was guiding the bird to investigate. He landed on the railing of one of the windows and looked at the young woman resting against that same window's frame.

Mori looked just as surprised to see a bird land right in front of her as he was to be there. Sinbad had purposely been avoiding using Zepar to spy on Mori since she somehow knew that he had eavesdropped on her before. It had been days since he last saw her, so when she was suddenly an option-

"Heh hehe"

Mori's chuckle and smile took his full attention. He didn't know what had made her laugh, but he hoped she'd do it again.

"Sir, are you aware you are a bird?” After the words passed her lips she was struck by a giggle fit.

Sinbad had no idea what she was thinking or why she had said that to a bird, but he was hearing her voice for the first time in nearly a week so he'd worry about figuring it out later.

When Mori finished laughing at her own joke she leaned her head to the side and watched him. Her hair shifted and another lock spilled over her shoulder. The sight brought attention to the low neckline of the dress she was wearing. If Sinbad was there in person he would have brushed her hair out of the way just to have an excuse to touch her.

"Did you miss me that much?" Her voice was soft and a bit playful. "You didn't have to use Zepar to visit me."

Mori knew it was him! Sinbad jolted and his head hit the back of his chair in his office. How could she tell? Only magicians could see magoi and Rukh to see the spell active on the bird.

"Sin, is something wrong?-” Ja'far had just entered the room to give his afternoon report.

King Sinbad raised a hand for him to be quiet and tapped Zepar's ring to explain the situation. He didn't want to talk and miss something Mori said or did.

The General's expression turned serious and nodded as he went quiet.

When Mori didn't get a response from the bird she added, "Are you surprised that I knew it was you?" Her smile was warm as the sun. "I have read your Fate many times, so I will always recognize you, my King."

Normally, the idea that someone could see through Zepar's magic would concern him, but this didn't. It strengthened his belief that Fate had guided Mori to him.

And the affectionate way she said "my King" at the end made him smile. The waves had moved like this a few times like the last time he had seen her in person, and when he learned she could also feel the waves. The Great Flow of the Rukh was guiding them to the Fate he could see, the one where she lived the rest of her life by his side.

Ja'far sighed. "Just let me know when I can give you my report."

Mori whipped her head towards the door to her room. "They're here early."

There were the sounds of people walking in the hallway, but no voices to denounce who, or their destination. All the same, Mori got up and walked to the door. She opened it before the doctors had a chance to knock.

"How did you...?" One of the doctors asked.

"I recognized the sound of your footsteps," was her answer.

"I see.... And how are you feeling today?"

Mori walked into her room, and spared a glance at the bird still watching her from the window. "I feel fine. Just like yesterday." She turned back towards the door and sat on the edge of her bed. "So can I finally leave this room?"

The doctors were understanding but they still were going to do a full check up first.

Even without the waves it was obvious that Mori was going to be marked as full health. Sinbad would prefer to go see her immediately and give her a tour of the Palace personally, but he was still a King with responsibilities. "Ja'far, Mori has just been declared healthy. What do you think of everyone having dinner together to get everyone better aquatinted?"

"I didn't hear anything about-” Ja'far started and then cut himself when he realized. "Were you just using Zepar to spy on her??"

"Of course not." Sinbad said with all of the confidence of the King he was. "I flew directly to her and she recognized me instantly. I wasn't spying at all."

"She recognized you??" Of course he'd be shocked.

King Sinbad laughed. "She did. Though she was surprised to see me."

"I bet she was surprised to suddenly see a bird in her room. What made you think to use Zepar instead of visiting her in person? You're already getting regular reports on her condition." Ja'far always acted as a buzz kill.

It didn't stop Sinbad from laughing at the situation before finally asking for that report he postponed earlier -conveniently avoiding answering Ja'far's question.

The magician in Mori's room was talking. "Would you be interested in visiting the Black Libra Tower with us? We can show you how the experiments are going. And if possible, would you be willing to answer some questions?"

That was an understandable request, but it could wear her out.

The Prophet was facing away from the windows so Sinbad couldn't see her expression. "I'd really like that actually." But he could hear the excitement growing in her voice.

"Let me get changed real quick." Mori disappeared behind her folding wall and emerged in the outfit he met her in.

Sinbad did not drop control of the bird, but he also didn't follow Mori out of her room. Instead he waited in the window sill until he saw her enter the courtyard and then had the bird fly to the Black Libra Tower.

---

As soon as he finished whatever last minute things Ja'far was about to add to his pile, Sinbad would go to the Black Libra Tower and surprise his Beautiful Prophet in person.

~POV Mori~

In the manga and in the anime the only areas shown of the Black Libra Tower were Yamuraiha's office/lab and one of the libraries. I was more than curious about the rest of the facilities.

The first room seemed to be a reception area and had a map of the tower. I only got to glance at the separations between the libraries, offices and class rooms before a tall and lanky magician walked up to us.

"Is this her??” Her short ponytail bounced as she looked between me and my guides.

Isa, the magician who had been taking care of me the past few days, introduced me. "This is Lady Mori, the Prophet!” He acted like he was showing off the coolest toy on the playground.

The tall woman got right up in my face. "I knew she had to be the Prophet! The Rukh don't normally move this way around people."

Before I got to respond she started rambling comments and questions that covered everything in maroon and peacock blue getting sponged across a cream canvas. I stepped back and Isa cut her off. "Lady Mori will be answering everyone's questions in time. We were just on our way to see Yamuraiha so I can show her how everything has been coming along. You are welcome to join us."

She definitely joined us. As did many others who spotted us or were called over by others in our procession.

We walked through a few library areas, and up a few flights of stairs. As we passed various rooms and areas I was told what or who would be inside, but I wouldn't remember any of the specifics until I had a chance to use the space and explore on my own. What did stick was that most of the classrooms were next to the libraries and the labs were near the offices.

Yamuraiha must have heard our group from down the hall because her head popped out from one of the rooms ahead of us. "What is going on out here??” Then she made eye contact with me. "It's you!!"

That made me smile. I fought back responding 'it's me!' like I would with my friends. "I'm Mori. I'm glad I'm finally getting the chance to meet you, Yamuraiha!” I stopped walking when I got 3 yards/meters away.

She immediately pulled her staff against her chest with both hands. Her shoulders tensed but she had an enthusiastic smile. "The pleasure is all mine!"

Yamuraiha was amazing, smart, and endearing. I really wanted to be friends with her.

I out stretched my hand to shake hers. "I'm really excited to work with you, and learn more about magic even though I'm not a magician."

"The feeling is mutual!” She took my hand more than matching my excitement. And when she released it said, "Since you're here, would you like to see what we've been working on from the scrolls you gave us?"

"Yes please!”

---

The lab she lead us to was a little down the hall. All of my scrolls were spread out on one table and a bunch of notes and different materials were on an other.

Yamuraiha pulled out parchment that had a complicated magic circle written on it. "We can't do much yet, and it still takes a catalyst and many magicians at once to control the amount of magoi safely but our alchemy magic has made a breakthrough from your writing."

She asked a few of the magicians that came with me to join her. They pointed their staffs and wands at the magic cycle. A large crystal in the room started glowing, and the Rukh lit up the space from within the circle. Specks were pulled out of the pile of ingredients nearby -dirt, scraps paper, a small potted plant- and gathered at the center of the circle. The light got too bright for me to look straight at it and when it faded there was a small dark grey cube in the middle of the circle. It looked like a die with no markings.

Yam explained. "After reading about 'atoms' and 'bonds' in your scrolls it was like finding the missing piece. It will still be a long time before we can perfect the process, and we still can't make anything bigger than this yet, but soon we will be able to make anything we want!"

((In the future I intend to: reference more old memes, describe more of my experience with synesthesia, and explain more basic history and science. SO you all have been warned lol))

I had to respond; I couldn't just continue staring in awe. When I tried to answer I ended up gasping since had forgotten to breathe. I chuckled at my own shock as well as the situation. I looked up at them. "You're all amazing to be able to develop this already from the little I wrote!" I looked back at the stone. "I knew I wrote the keys to Yunan's signature alchemy magic in those scrolls, but to think you've already gotten this far with it -its amazing."

With this -when developed farther- we could make certain materials without having to worry about the pollution, and break things down easily so we won't have to worry about garbage piling up everywhere.

"Did you say Yunan? The Magi, Yunan?" Yamuraiha looked at me with wide eyes.

"Yes." It was my turn to explain. "Yunan is able to use alchemy magic like this on a grand scale. In the Fates I read he will have reason to visit Sindria in about 2 years. He creates a cabin and food in the middle of the Palace court yard so he has somewhere comfortable to stay."

The bird in the window ruffled it's feathers.

"Yunan explains the basic concept of how that magic works when asked, and since I know the science of the physical world I know the details to what he was talking about." My smile widened. "I hope my notes were easy to understand. Please let me know if you have any questions."

#magi prophet fanfic #magi fanfiction #magi fanfic #sinbad magi #king sinbad #magi sinbad #sinbadxoc

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tenthgrove · 4 years ago

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L’inizio- A La Squadra Backstory Collection

Chapter 1: La Serenità (Risotto Nero)

Word count: ~6000

Warnings: Like most La Squadra backstories, this fic is going to get quite dark in places so I’m going to include content warnings chapter by chapter. For this chapter, warnings are in place for grief, self-harm (implicit), violence, murder and general mental ill-health

Needles of rain batter the old road as the taxi pulls into a quiet town. The driver, who eyes his unfamiliar passenger quickly and often as he slumps broodingly in the back seat, prays his headlights don’t give up on him now.

“I know my way from here,” the passenger speaks. Though doubtful of his judgement, the driver takes his cue to pull to a stop on the unlevel curb. The passenger undoes his seatbelt and slings his heavy bag over-shoulder. He spares the taxi driver a rare moment of eye contact. “If you try and find the church yourself in this weather we’ll be here all night,” he huffs.

“Are you sure?” the driver asks waveringly, “the downpour is quite severe after all.”

“I’ve had worse. Now here, your money,” the strange man maintains, shoving a fist of cash towards him. The driver counts it eagerly.

“130,000 lire? That’s far more-”

“The first half is for the journey, the rest says you never saw me,” he elaborates impatiently. Reaching for the door, he steps out detachedly into the rain and begins his long strides forward. After a moment he stops, and looks back. For the first time all journey, his bitter face is lit up by the glare of the headlights. For all he has said and done, the driver cannot bring himself to feel shock at the sight of the black and red eyes the stranger looks at him with.

“And really,” the young man repeats. “Ensure you speak nothing of me. If you do, I have contacts who will ensure you regret it,” he snarls, turning his back ardently on the car and pacing away down the street. The driver wastes no time in leaving him be.

Risotto Nero wipes rain from his brow as he climbs the hill towards his destination. Somewhere, deep within his mind he acknowledges the unjust callousness with which he regards his childhood town around him. Perhaps, it is easier on his soul not to do otherwise.

Even as the darkness affords him no aid, Risotto guides himself by muscle memory towards the old tower of the village church. He knows by memory too, the way through the ancient graveyard to the place he came to visit. Reaching the far corner, he stumbles on the dirt and feels his hands for the stone. Icy hands trace its name, pangs of both relief and guilt when the familiar lettering is felt by him.

“Domenico,” Risotto half-gasps. He lets his knees give way as he sinks down onto the dirt of the grave. “I came back, as I promised you. I have to go again soon but…” he reaches into the pockets of his coat and pulls out a metal box the size of his palm. It’s starting to reek, a miracle the driver of the taxi didn’t notice, but it’s here now. “I did it Domenico. I killed him. For you,” Risotto speaks. He wrenches off the lid and the foul stench of rotting blood ebbs out. He hold it shakily over the grave, and tips it onto the dirt.

“I wanted to make him suffer more. Show him just what he did to Nonna and I by taking you. I couldn’t do that, there wasn’t enough time. But… I hope this is enough for you, Amico. I hope you can be at peace now.”

Risotto kisses his palm and presses it to the gravestone.

“Goodbye, Domenico.”

Risotto stand to his feet and turns away from the grave. A clap of lightning brings a brief moment of light to the rugged graveyard. There at the other end, Risotto sees a figure familiar to him, looking out over the sea of graves.

Damn it, Risotto thinks to himself. How in God’s name did she find him here?

Risotto crosses his palms and stands sheepishly as the figure of his grandmother approaches him. Vittoria stops when she’s close enough for the faint light of the night to force them to see eye to eye. Risotto knows he could not look away from her if he tried.

“I saw a vehicle coming into town,” Vittoria speaks. “Somehow, I knew in my heart it would be you.” The aging woman reaches a hand for her grandson’s arm. He flinches, but does not shake her off. “What have you done, Risotto?”

Risotto breathes deeply. He gives her the firmest look he dares.

“Exactly what I said I would.”

“It’s all over the news,” Vittoria laments. “The theories are ceaseless. I can only thank god you haven’t been named as a suspect yet, but with all that’s happened it’s only a matter of time.”

“They aren’t going to name me,” he promises. “I sought protection as I said I would. No police force in Italy will dare put blame on me, and they will not harass you either.” Risotto assures her. Vittoria’s eyes go wide as panic flashes across her face. She opens her mouth fearfully.

“Who?”

“Passione,” Risotto answers.

“Then you really have doomed yourself Risotto.”

Risotto takes a step back.

“I’ve sworn to report to Naples by 4pm tomorrow. I have to go, Nonna,” he excuses himself.

“Stay, just a few hours, I beg of you,” Vittoria pleads. As he marches to the edge of the graveyard, she follows him desperately. “If you must go, I can take you myself in the morning. Don’t you want to bring more of your things? At very least- give a passing goodbye to your home?” she vies. Risotto shakes his head without looking back at her. “Risotto, please,” Vittoria begs, grabbing him by the wrist. “You’re all I’ve got left. You don’t have to go to them. I can hide you. I can take care of you.”

“I’m not going to be so dishonourable as to break an oath. Even if you could find a place for me out of Passione’s reach, my conscience would not allow it,” Risotto insists. “Surely you can understand that.”

Vittoria nods shakily.

“Unfortunately, I can. Very well, Risotto, I see your mind is made up. But won’t you at least come home for tonight?”

“No. It’s easier if I just go,” Risotto denies her. “Thank you for everything, Nonna.”

::::::::::::

A car horn sounds outside and Risotto snaps his eyes open. Sweat clings the sheets to his skin in spite of the cold weather. His head hurts and the light of his desk lamp stings his eyes as he switches it on. He doesn’t want to leave the bed. He wants to curl up and throw the sheets over his face but he knows he can’t do that.

It’s 11pm. No doubt his superiors will have tasks for him overnight and glancing over at the other bed, his roommate is already up. Risotto forces himself from bed. He notices the wrinkled photograph of his Nonna and cousin out on the nightstand- he must have left it there before he fell asleep. He tucks it quickly into the drawer. The idea of his roommates seeing it always leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

Dressing in the first thing he can find, Risotto stumbles into the squalid little bathroom. Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s only 20, a gaunt, ghoulish figure whose eyes never focus and mouth never smiles. He used to think himself lonely as a child. Now he longs for a life that loved.

Risotto turns the tap and splashes his face with a little water. It hardly helps him look much better but it helps a little with the headache. He dries his face with a wipe and casts it into the bin. Often, he wonders whether his roommates haven’t noticed all the bloody tissues that keep piling up in there or if they’re just keeping quiet, but either way he’s glad for their silence. Wiping his hands on the towel, Risotto leaves for the kitchen.

“You look like shit,” Marco remarks. By the time Risotto looks at him back he’s already lost interest, eyes focused on the book he rests against the edge of the kitchen table.

“Thanks,” Risotto responds. He turns the dial on the light a little brighter. “Where are the others?”

“Fucked if I know. Nowhere good, I reckon,” Marco answers him. He pushes his glasses back into place, before scooting back in his chair to look up at Risotto. “But it works well for us. We’ve got an errand ‘needs doing. Whole massive sack of cash needs running to the warehouse. You know I can’t trust the others with that sort of thing, so I’m giving it to you. Fair?”

“Fair. I could use the walk,” Risotto shrugs. He reaches for his coat.

“Woah woah woah,” Marco stops him. “Please tell me you’re at least going to eat something before you head out. You look like you legitimately might fall over.”

“I’ll be fine, Marco, I just- don’t feel up to it,” Risotto excuses himself, slinging his arms into the coat sleeves.

“I am not letting you do such an important job for me in a state like that. Sit. I’ll get you something. As captain of this house, I’m ordering you,” Marco insists.

“If you’re so powerful how about you get Niccolo to stop barging in drunk every morning at 4am?” Risotto grumbles. He sits down anyway.

“I’m house captain, not a damn miracle worker,” Marco half-chuckles. Risotto gives a tut and forces his tense body to relax.

He heads out right after he’s eaten, not particularly wanting to converse with his roommate much longer. Risotto likes walking, especially at night. The cool air helps with the constant feeling of sickness and the quiet clears his head. He knows the place he’s going- an old warehouse a few blocks away where a lot of the money and drugs Passione seizes are taken as a first port of call. It’s not far, but Risotto thinks he’ll take the long route back. He’s enjoying this.

Risotto spies the run-down silhouette of the warehouse towering over the end of the street. The front entrance is right ahead, but Risotto knows he’s not supposed to use it for this sort of work. He heads left, down into the brick alleyway that takes him to the back door. A man is leaning against the wall. His face, scarred and stubbled, is made visible by the lighter he uses to light his bent cigarette. He spares a glance to Risotto, and Risotto feels the sudden urge to give him a wide birth.

“You got a watch on you?” the stranger asks.

Risotto isn’t falling for that one. He looks dead ahead and keeps walking, clutching the bag between himself and the wall. Pain assails the back of his shin and he falls, string-tied money falling out on the floor.

“We’ve been expecting you,” says the stranger. Face against the mud, Risotto hears the click of a gun and his instincts take over. He flings to the right, just as the deafening sound of a gunshot fires right by his ear. He rolls onto his back and grabs the stranger by his wrist, twisting the gun away before it can fire again. There’s a noise in the alleyway and Risotto wonders if it’s help. Two silhouettes come around the corner and point their guns, but it isn’t at the stranger. It’s at him.

Risotto twists his attacker’s wrist further until he hears something pop. The man yelps in pain and lets go of the gun. Grabbing it, Risotto aims at the two newcomers and fires rapidly. The angle is hardly idle but Risotto is fervent. There’s a scream and one of them falls, distracting their companion long enough for Risotto to take care of his other problem. Gripping his arms with both hands and summoning all his strength, Risotto flips the first attacker over his head, the injured man landing with a thud behind him.

Risotto scrambles to his feet. The man tries to do the same but he isn’t fast enough. Risotto straddles him and draws his knife. He stabs him again and again, blood spurting from his neck and chest as his struggling slowly stops. He stills. Risotto pulls the knife from the dead flesh and sighs.

A blinding brightness shoots down from above and Risotto reels in pain. Falling to the ground beside the body, he tries to blink his eyes open only to be met with more agony. It’s like a million needles of light are stabbing him from the sky.

The stars. Something is up with the stars.

“Bet they didn’t even give you a stand, did they? Worthless nobody.”

Steps approach Risotto from behind and the third attacker stops beside him. “Obviously not, otherwise you would have noticed it earlier,” the man scowls. Risotto tries to look up and catches a brief, blurry image of his face with no detail. It’s isn’t good to confirm much other than the man is there.

“What have you done to me?” Risotto demands. He tries to press his hands to his eyes but it still hurts. The light gets brighter still.

“I’ve used my stand on you. It’s only your perception of the stars that has been changed and not the whole planet, so don’t feel too mind blown. Believe me, if I could do that, I wouldn’t be stealing from Passione to subsidise what they pay me.”

Risotto’s eyes blink open again and in their brief moment of vision Risotto sees something that stills his blood. The stranger holds Risotto’s own knife, raised high above his head. Risotto lashes out.

Relying on instinct alone he lurches up to tackle his assailant to the ground. The stranger chuckles and throws him off of him. Risotto may be strong, but he isn’t used to fighting without his sight. It puts him at a severe disadvantage.

Risotto feels a harsh punch to his spine. He stumbles back to the ground, stopped from landing face first only by his scratched hands. He knows he would have heard it if another individual had approached it. That can only mean one thing- his attacker’s stand.

Risotto despairs. He knows stands are immune from all damage by things of this world, so without a stand of his own Risotto is defenceless against it. He has only one hope: kill the user first. Risotto lunges forwards, grabbing onto his attacker and pushing him to the ground through sheer force. He sinks his hands around the man’s neck and pushes down with all his force. The man brings up the knife and stabs it into Risotto’s chest. The pain is blinding, but Risotto knows it’s nowhere fatal. He is not deterred. The knife is brought up again and strikes him again between the ribs, but it is not deep enough to make Risotto give up his grip.

The stranger’s arm falls and the knife clatters out of reach, but Risotto is not safe yet. The unseeable stand unleashes a barrage of blows to his body, but Risotto forces himself not to give up. He stays there for what feels like an eternity, eyes clamped shut and body in agony, until the light starts to get weaker. The stand’s punches lose their strength.

Risotto can see clearly again, though the pain isn’t entirely gone. He looks down unfeelingly at the dying man below him, retching, wheezing for air as he grips Risotto’s wrist pleadingly. Risotto feels nothing as the man’s eyes glaze over and his body goes still. He holds his grip for another minute, making absolute certain the assailant is dead and not unconscious. Then he collapses.

Risotto stares up at the sky. Blood clings to his chest and oozes around his clothes. He notices how acutely aware he is of his heart, beating erratically as it pumps the blood out his skin. His limbs are heavy, the feeling in his hands already gone. He can feel himself fading second-by-second. He comes to realise just how long he’s wanted this.

Risotto thinks of Domenico and his Nonna, and patiently waits for the beating in his heart to stop.

::::::::::::

The next thing that Risotto is aware of is the heart monitor, beeping rhythmically as the white of the hospital surrounds him. He moves about in the sheets, noting the feeling of his chest constrained by bandages. A nurse rushes over to him and his awareness dissociates. It doesn’t come back until she’s leaving.

“There was a man here to see you earlier,” she mentions.

“Not some twerp with glasses, was it?” Risotto asks. He hates how weak and strained his voice sounds.

“No, some classy guy. His name was… Prosciutto Crepuscolo? I’ll have to check the book, but it’s something like that anyway. He seemed pretty ardent about seeing you so I’ll expect he’ll be back soon.”

“Alright,” Risotto sighs. “Thanks for the warning.”

Great. This is probably some stuck-up management asshole here to interrogate him about what happened. Risotto can only hope they know what the attackers were up to and don’t think he just decided to murder three soldatos on the fly. Otherwise, Risotto’s troubles may be just be beginning.

Risotto waits. The clock strikes 6am, but there’s no way to know how many times it’s done that since they took him here. He’s half-tempted to get up and find out but then he remembers the tube in his arm. He can’t really be bothered, anyway. At very least, they gave him a private room. It’s clear they know who he is, so it must have either been his roommates or the operatives of the warehouse who took him here. Someone who knows where the doctors on Passione’s payroll work.

The clock strikes 9. That nurse came back to check on him at some point but Risotto barely even noticed. He wants to go back to sleep but the pain is too bad for that. He can’t do anything but think, and even that is hard for him in so much pain.

The door clicks and an unfamiliar man enters. He appears disdained by the rain on his fine jacket as he takes it off quickly, brushing strands of blond hair from his eyes. He is a young man, though seemingly a fair bit older than Risotto if the way he carries himself is anything to go by.

“Nero?” the man asks. He regards Risotto critically as he steps forward.

“Yes, you’re Crepuscolo, correct?” Risotto replies.

“Call me Prosciutto. I can’t stand when people use that surname,” the man answers. He places his blazer on the back of the visitor’s chair and sits down, folding his hands.

“You’re from Passione, aren’t you?”

“That obvious? I suppose it must be,” Prosciutto shrugs. “I’m less special than you probably think. I handle logistics, usually more to do with murder than drugs and gambling, but I report to Polpo just like you do,” he explains.

“Are you currently sorting the logistics of having me shot, Prosciutto?” Risotto asks dryly. Prosciutto rolls his eyes.

“No, no. The operatives at the warehouse recognised one of your attackers as having tried to rob them before, and your team was quick to vouch for your character. Everyone accepts you acted in self-defence and there’s no suspicion otherwise,” Prosciutto reassures him. “In fact, I’m here on a personal whim.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been tasked with the elimination of an important politician residing in Naples. I don’t usually carry out such orders myself, but when the stakes are high it’s usually best that I, as a stand user, step in personally. Even still, it’s best to have backup and frankly, all my usual contacts are either out of town or hapless fools I wouldn’t trust to water a houseplant,” Prosciutto explains.

“And you’re looking for new options, I presume,” Risotto deduces.

“Precisely,” Prosciutto nods. “Winning a three-on-one fight with one stand user is certainly an impressive feat. I was hoping to find you in better shape than this but I can afford to wait a month or two, so I won’t strike you off my options yet. I must say, Risotto, you look like you belong in this place even without the multitude of chest wounds, but I haven’t figured out if that makes me more or less appealed to you.”

“Charmed,” Risotto sighs. “What’s in it for me?”

“Well, they’re giving me 30 million lire for the job and it would only be fair for me to give you a cut. How does 5% sound?”

“10, at least,” Risotto contends. Prosciutto smirks and makes a little huff.

“You’re an eager bastard aren’t you. Done,” he concedes.

“What do you need from me?”

“I live across from the promenade. Number 23. If you’re in shape by the 3rd of December, come to me in the afternoon. I do my hits at night but there’ll be plenty to discuss, so make sure you’re there by 4 at the latest. I can give you the pay there and then but you’ll have to keep it on you until we’re done so you don’t try to leg it.”

“And is there anything in particular I should train myself for?” Risotto asks.

“Nothing in particular. You’re only there for backup so you might not even need to lift a finger. Really I’m giving you money for nothing,” Prosciutto remarks, standing up dignifiedly from his chair. “But making new connections can only help us both, don’t you agree?”

With a small parting smile, Prosciutto departs without awaiting his answer. Risotto is left alone with the beat of his heart monitor. He doesn’t know what to think of his new acquaintance yet, but an allegiance with a stand user could change everything. If Risotto were to gain status within Passione, would it finally fill the hole in his heart left by Domenico? He honestly doesn’t know.

::::::::::::

It’s the third of December, 1992, and Risotto is in good spirits. He worked hard to restore his health after his injuries, making a point of taking better care of himself and spending many hours working on his mobility. What Prosciutto has given him is a goal, and that’s something he hasn’t had since hunting Domenico’s killer. Now, when Risotto looks in the mirror, he sees resolution. He’s going to impress his new acquaintance if it kills him.

Risotto walks along the promenade counting the houses for number 23. It’s a fancy looking place, as he expected, made of sandstone with a twisted copper fence surrounding the upstairs balcony. He passes a grove of palm trees and knocks on the door. The answer is immediate.

“One moment, one moment,” Prosciutto calls impatiently. The smaller man opens the door and Risotto is struck by the smell of expensive cigarettes. “Sorry, do you mind?” Prosciutto asks, gesturing to the cigarette in his hand.

“Not at all,” Risotto assures him. “May I come in?”

Prosciutto walks wordlessly into the living room and Risotto gets the hint to follow. The pair sit down on a lavish settee. Risotto finds himself anxious in such an alien place to him.

“You live on Firenze street, close to the cinema, yes?” Prosciutto enquires.

“Yes. Piece of shit dump.”

“Tell me about it. I used to live just on the next road when I started out with my first squad,” Prosciutto reminisces. Risotto leans forward in surprise.

“You’re self-made?”

“More like… earned back,” Prosciutto clarifies. “Though for the record you’ll find most of my possessions here are cheaper than they look. I’m not nearly as rich as I was as a young man. Perhaps someday,” he hopes.

“When did you join Passione?” Risotto asks curiously.

“Three years ago. If you’d started just a few months earlier, we would have been neighbours,” he muses.

“And your stand?”

“Now that’s newer. I’ve had it for the best part of a year.”

Risotto taps his leg nervously.

“How did you do it? Move up the ranks so quickly?”

Prosciutto tuts.

“Wondering how you’re still stuck as Polpo’s postboy at the same point in your career I was lined up for a stand?” he asks cuttingly. Risotto chokes out a half-formed rebuttal, then looks down in shame. “A bit of luck, a bit of knowing the right people, and a lot of speaking bullshit,” Prosciutto answers. “It also doesn’t help that… you know…”

“You can say it. Everyone knows I’m an utter state and sometimes I legitimately impress people by waking up alive in the morning,” Risotto grumbles.

“Well, that’s one way to put it. If it’s any consolation you’re no worse than most at your level of the organisation. The problem comes when you want to move up,” Prosciutto takes another drag of the cigarette and leans back into the cushions. “You’re hardly a rare case. You thought Passione would be something it wasn’t for you and now you aren’t sure what you’re living for.”

“Did you… look into me?” Risotto asks defensively. Prosciutto shakes his head.

“Like I said, it’s a common story. I don’t really need to look into you to know.”

“It’s not entirely true,” Risotto protests. “I never really expected anything out of Passione. I just didn’t think I’d care what happened to me anymore. Sometimes I don’t, but it still hurts.”

“Shit parents?”

“No! Well, yes. But they weren’t the ones who raised me so it doesn’t matter. Someone… died, someone very close to me, and in avenging him I asked Passione to protect me. I had to join them of course, in exchange, but I didn’t mind. I thought I’d be at peace once I had my vengeance. I was wrong,” he says quietly. Prosciutto is quiet for a moment.

“Come on, let’s get ready to go.”

::::::::::::

It’s a cold night. Risotto is starting to regret volunteering to wait outside. His task is simple, watch the front door and shoot if the target tries to leave. He lives alone and the two guards have already been disposed of, so the job couldn’t be simpler. Risotto hopes the target really does try to run. It will make him feel like he had an actual purpose being here.

Even out here, Risotto can hear the scuffle inside. It’s a good thing they’re far from the city and there aren’t any neighbours nearby, but then again, does anyone living in Passione’s territory really still trust the police enough to call them?

After what feels like ages, the door falls open. Risotto aims his gun and prepares to seize his moment, only to find the stumbling target looks half-dead already as he collapses onto the porch. He fires a couple of shots anyway, just for good measure.

Prosciutto steps out. He kicks the body. Risotto starts to walk forward.

“No!” Prosciutto shouts. Risotto stops in his tracks. “Alright, you can come now,” Prosciutto permits him. Risotto steps forward uncertainly. “Apologies, my stand is indiscriminate so I can’t have you going near it. It’s gone now, so you’re safe. Come, come over here,” Prosciutto urges.

Risotto eyes the dead body in front of him. He is struck immediately by how old and shrivelled it seems- he could have sworn the politician was only in his early 60s.

“Is your stand… aging?” he asks.

“Well-guessed. It’s morbid, I know, but it does the job,” Prosciutto confirms. “You’re welcome to leave now. Cleaning up is a delicate process and it’s best I do it myself.”

“So this is it, I just go now?” Risotto says, a little disappointed.

“You have your money, don’t you? Now go, before someone drives by!” Prosciutto urges him. Risotto sulks away down the front path. “And Risotto?” he calls back. Risotto turns to listen to him. “I’ll be sure to give you a call if I ever need you again. You’ve impressed me, Risotto.”

The young man smiles. He nods in acknowledgement.

“Thank you, Prosciutto. I hope we can work again together soon.”

::::::::::::

It’s May, and Risotto is freshly 21. He finishes sweeping the floor of the kitchen and sits at the table, taking a sip of his coffee as he watches out the window. There’s a knock on the door.

“Hello?” Risotto says, opening it. The sight that greets him is a surprise- the familiar figure of Prosciutto Crepuscolo standing at his doorway.

“Apologies for the delay, I finally had an excuse to meet with you,” Prosciutto greets him. “May I come in?”

“By all means,” Risotto smiles. The two enter the apartment.

“You’re looking… better, Risotto,” Prosciutto notices. Risotto brushes his fingers through his hair.

“I wouldn’t say I’m doing well, but it’s a start,” he agrees. “So, what finally dragged you out here?”

“It’s possible I might have a position for you,” Prosciutto announces. Risotto perks up eagerly.

“Under you?”

“Over me,” Prosciutto corrects him.

“Now I’m intrigued.”

Prosciutto steeples his fingers and starts to explain.

“Passione is forming a new squad. Assassination, at long last. No more running around Naples for volunteers last minute. I’ve been chosen, no surprise, but I’ve made it very clear I refuse to be team leader. I have personal commitments. It wouldn’t be ideal. I’ve already got two others on the team with me, good men I’ve known for a while, but I’ve been told in no uncertain terms not to let either of them anywhere near positions of power. You on the other hand, my superiors are willing to consider.”

“I’m hardly qualified.”

“You’d be surprised how good an option you are. Being able to kill without a second thought is rare enough in itself, and on each of the few occasions your combat prowess has come into play, you’ve performed exceptionally. While it’s true you don’t have much experience as a leader, you’ve got all the hallmarks of someone who could be taught to be one. And you will be taught. I’ll be there to teach you.” Prosciutto assures him. He leans back in his seat. “There’s only one issue. We need to get you a stand.”

“I see. Can you get me put through for one?” Risotto asks.

“With your consent I can get you put through tomorrow. But I need you to be certain, Risotto, I need you to agree to lead us.”

Risotto takes a moment to think. He breathes deeply.

“I agree Prosciutto. I’ll do it.”

“Excellent. It’s time we got you out of this dump.”

Risotto wakes the next morning to knocking on the door of his new bedroom. He sits up and takes a moment to regard the room around him, his mind planning already how he’s going to make it look once it’s concretely his. Really though, he’s just glad to have a space to himself now.

“Risotto it’s time to get up,” Prosciutto calls impatiently.

“I’m awake,” Risotto answers him. “Give me one minute and I’ll be dressed.”

Risotto hurries into his clothes and exits the room. Prosciutto is waiting for him, leaned against the wall. He regards Risotto with a nod.

“We aren’t expected at any particular time, but I’d rather we go sooner than later. Best to get it out of the way.”

“I’d prefer that too,” Risotto agrees. “Let me finish getting ready and we’ll head out.”

Prosciutto follows Risotto downstairs into the large front room. Risotto can tell Passione intends to grow this team beyond its current meagre size, else they wouldn’t get a house this big. At least he can enjoy the privacy while it lasts.

Down in the sitting room, two men look up from their sofa. They are entangled in each other, arms splayed lovingly over each other’s shoulders with little care who sees them. The smaller blond shuffles from his partner’s lap. He crosses his legs and looks at Risotto with wicked eyes.

“And who might this be, Pros? Our first victim?” he asks. The dark-haired man beside him presses his knuckles to his lips in a poor attempt to hide his malicious smile.

“This is Risotto Nero,” Prosciutto corrects him. “Should all go to plan, our leader.”

“What a young face,” the dark-haired man remarks.

“And so… uniquely dressed,” his partner adds. They pass a wicked glint between them.

“Risotto, this is Sorbet, and his husband Gelato,” Prosciutto introduces them, pointing to each. “The two recruits I mentioned earlier.”

“Recruits?” Sorbet asks, a hint of offense in his voice.

“We’ve been in the game far longer than you have, Prosci,” Gelato agrees.

“You both know what I mean,” Prosciutto sighs. He leads Risotto to the door and the pair get up after them. “Where on earth are you going?” he asks.

“We thought we might go with you, to… see our new friend off,” Sorbet explains.

“Very well, but no dawdling,” Prosciutto agrees.

The four pile into Prosciutto’s spotless Ford, the man himself taken the driver’s seat as Risotto sits behind him. Sorbet and Gelato jump eagerly into the back, gripping the seats in front of them and holding their faces way too close to Risotto for comfort.

“Now, you remember what to do?” Prosciutto checks.

“Yes,” Risotto assures him.

“My advice would be to find a street with no wind and stay there. Occupy yourself mentally, but don’t walk around or you’ll be asking for trouble,” Prosciutto advises.

“Thank you, Prosciutto, I’ll remember that. Any hope of you telling me how I’ll actually get the stand?” Risotto vies.

“Sorry, no chance. Just believe me when I say I have faith in you.”

“Very well,” Risotto accepts. He chuckles quietly.

Prosciutto drives just a few more minutes before stopping at the gates of a prison. He regards Risotto’s surprise with a reassuring pat to the shoulder.

“The guards will let you in, don’t worry. Go now, we have faith.”

Risotto thanks him with a smile and steps from the vehicle. A hand tugs his wrist. He turns to see Gelato holding onto him.

“Prosciutto’s going to tell me off for saying this, but drop the lighter. It’s what you’re actually meant to do.”

Unsure of what to say, Risotto shakes him off and carries on towards the gates. He hears the conversation behind him.

“Gelato, what on earth are you doing?!” Prosciutto chides.

“Giving him a faster death.”

::::::::::::

Risotto pushes against the arrow with all his might as it digs into his chest. He lets out a grunt of exasperation as he battles for his life, adamant in the resolution that he refuses to die today. He begins to hear screaming, passive at first and then steadily louder. It isn’t him, but it’s coming from within him. The iron grate by his side begins to twist and contort.

::::::::::::

“So, do you think he’s dead yet?” Sorbet says humourlessly. He checks his nails while caressing Gelato’s head in his lap.

“He’s going to be fine. I really don’t know why you have so little faith in him,” Prosciutto admonishes him. The pair chuckle.

“He’s just another dumb fuck dragged in from the gutter. There’s no way he could possibly survive obtaining a stand,” Gelato maintains.

“I’d like to see you say that to his face when he gets home alive,” Prosciutto tuts.

The front door clicks, the lock giving way on its own accord. The door swings open and Risotto Nero steps through, a cascading wave of metal swirling around his torso at his command. He reaches his hand into the iron dust and a shining blade is molded from the air. He presents it to Prosciutto proudly.

“Will this be adequate, Prosciutto?”

The older man stifles a laugh and looks over to the stunned lovers on the opposite sofa.

“My friends, I think it’s time you gave your new leader the greeting he deserves.”

#la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #risotto nero #l'inizio

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peachiikawa · 4 years ago

Text

Caged Bird | Prince!Oikawa Tooru x Reader

a/n: if you know anything about fairytales then you might realize that the reader has the flute of the pied piper, though modified for the story. been watching a lot of once upon a time and got the idea from the neverland arc. hope you enjoy!

word count: 1.9k

genre: fantasy, romance

trigger warnings: reader gets hurt a bit but nothing graphic

summary: oikawa has always lived a lonesome life in the cage that is his castle. one day he sneaks out and a beautiful melody leads him to you, a traveling musician. oikawa is about to find out that his luck is going to change for the better.

oikawa gazed out over the town from his balcony

he let out a long sigh as he grew bored from his studies

“why the long face trashykawa?”

his bestfriend and knight walked up next to him and leaned against the railing

“oh you know, just bored of being in this castle. theres a whole town of people out there and im stuck in here. gets tiring after a while”

iwaizumi listened to his friend and nodded along to what he was saying

“then sneak out for a day”

oikawas eyes widened

“youd help me sneak out?”

“only if you come back by sundown”

so oikawa grabbed his cloak and thanks to iwas help got out of the castle

despite being born and raised in this town oikawa had no idea where he was

and after about ten minutes he was completely and utterly lost

until he heard the faint sound of a flute

he followed the sound until he ended up in the mostly cleared out town square where he saw you playing a small wooden flute for those who were present, though you had no audience

everyone walked past you as if you were invisible like you werent playing such a beautiful song

he approached you slowly and listened until you finished your performance

“that was really good”

you looked up at him and smiled

“always a pleasure to play for those who need it”

the bright smile on your face felt warm and inviting

like he was meant to be here

“would you like to take a seat next to me?”

you gestured to the spot next to you and he gladly took it

“so...whats your story”

hes hesitant to answer your question

“ill tell you mine if you tell me yours”

you set your flute down in your bag next to you

“well first of all my names y/n and my life is nothing too interesting. im a traveling performer and play my flute as a way to pass time and help those who need it. always come across the most interesting people this way”

traveling. thats something oikawa could only dream of

“so cmon now tell me about you”

he peaked at you through his hood

“ok but dont make a big commotion..im oikawa tooru”

you laughed a bit

“thats funny you share the same name as the prince”

you stopped laughing when you saw the serious look in his eyes

“oh..oh! im so sorry for being so rude!”

you started to scramble around when he grabbed your wrists to stop your movements

“shh yes im the prince but stop flailing people are starting to look”

once you had calmed down he went on

“ive been confined to my castle my whole life and stuck to certain rules i have to follow. it seems like even if i catch a break something else comes along. i have to stay this perfect image because im the prince and it just gets so lonely. its as if im a bird trapped in a cage and theres no way out”

ah so there it is

the reason he could hear your flute

you picked a flower that was growing next to you and placed it in his hair as you spoke

“im sorry your lifes been like that but oikawa, if i may be so bold, even a caged bird will become wise enough to break free. the dream of flying is too great to resist”

Once you had properly placed the flower you smiled at him before standing up from your spot and grabbing your bag

you then held your hand out to him

but he couldnt gather his thoughts

you were so bright it was almost blinding

“now cmon! lets go have some fun!”

he looked at the hand held out to him

and with a leap of faith, he took it

he was going to get out of this cage, this perpetual cycle

and finally add some meaning to his life

day after day you two spent your time together

oikawas days that were once filled with hollow words and empty actions were now filled with happiness

filled with you

and everyday slowly but surely he was falling for you

passing glances turned into prolonged gazes

his heart could no longer stay still around you

you became the key to his happiness

but for now...he had to be content with just being next to you

it would be too selfish otherwise

to ask you to stay with him here in the kingdom...he could never trap you like that

“so what are we doing today y/n?”

you were strolling through the town on a quiet sunday afternoon like you had the last few sundays

“how about we go to the bakery? theyre usually busy but since its sunday i bet its not as packed and then i want to take you somewhere”

he was curious as to what you had in store but decided against asking questions

so you two got some baked goods and headed out towards the woods

“cmon we’re almost there”

you pushed some branches and shrubs out of the way

and one eventually hit him in the face

“watch it y/n! i keep getting wacked by you”

you just chuckled a bit which oikawa had found adorable in itself

it made his heart slow just hearing it

“just come on!”

eventually you two made it to a clearing over a beautiful lake

he didnt know that there was something like this so close by

he was absolutely amazed by it

“take a seat oikawa! we can rest and eat here!”

this moment was just too perfect to him

with you here he felt as if nothing bad could happen

that if he only could see your smile everything would be alright

being content with just being at your side...was no longer and option

he knew that if he wanted this he needed to take his chance

“y/n”

your eyes were full of life and he couldnt help but feel so happy next to you

and before he knew it he was closing the gap between the two of you with a hand gently cradling your cheek

but right before you two could kiss you were ripped away from him

“dont you dare touch the prince commoner!”

oikawa frantically looked around as many of his guards came out of the brush

“get your hands off of them!”

you were pressed to the ground and the sight almost broke his heart

“sorry your highness but we’re under strict orders to bring you back and throw whoever was seducing you to leave the castle into the dungeon”

the guard that had been on you lifted you up like you were a sack and bound you by rope

you gave oikawa a final smile before you were taken away even though you were so banged up that it made him want to puke

he was speechless

this is what he was talking about

being so controlled and monitored made him feel so small and helpless

and he absolutely abhorred it

“your highness your mother is waiting for you in the throne room”

oikawa was beyond upset

this isnt how he wants to live

“mother how could you throw the only good thing in my life away!”

his mother sneered at his words

“only good thing? what need to you have for that filthy peasant! and how dare you cast me aside as if i hadnt given you everything you own, everything you are is because of me! i will not allow for any of this nonsense! now go wash up. and dont you dare ever leave the castle again and i forbid you from seeing that nasty peasant again. wasting your time with such a person...”

he gritted his teeth and was about turn to leave

his emotions were running too high

he wasnt himself and he knew it

but even so...he wont allow it to end like this

he was going to end it on his terms

“no”

“what did you say?”

he stood his ground

“i said no mother. im going to live the way i want and with who i want. ill gladly give up my title because frankly, i never wanted it in the first place. and dont you ever call y/n filthy or nasty again. their so incredibly kind and full of joy and laughter. i can only hope to be like that one day. so ive decided that im leaving. with y/n.”

as soon as the doors shut behind him he let out the breath he didnt even know he was holding

but it also felt as if there was a giant weight off of him now

“im coming y/n dont you worry”

it had been a couple hours since you were brought to your cell

you didnt have any major injuries, just a few cuts and scratches from when you were body slammed to the ground

“do you mind if i play?”

you pulled out your flute and the guard nodded

“thank you!”

you started playing and filled the cell you were in with a relaxing tune

“why do you play if it doesnt make noise?”

you stopped and looked at the spiky haired man who stood outside your cell

“it takes a certain person to appreciate its music”

he just looked at you as if you were crazy

but you continued anyways

until you heard frantic running coming from down the hall

“iwa you gotta let them out”

oikawa was panting trying to catch his breath

“dude no offense but your mom would kill me and you if i just let them out”

oikawa grabbed the key from iwaizumis waist before he even realized what had happened

“dont worry about it iwa. and dont worry about me. today i start my new life. it was good knowing you buddy”

they gripped hands the way they always had. A solemn but knowing look was shared between them

“if i had known me letting you leave the castle one time would lead to this...i would have done it a lot sooner. good luck out there bud”

oikawa quickly turned to you and helped you off of the ground

“you ready to run?”

he cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over one of the small cuts

hed be sure to treat that later

you nodded and leaned into his hand

“are you sure this is what you want?”

you were happy to leave with him

its more than you could ever ask for

“y/n youre the only person thats made me feel free. and by doing this i will be.”

you two finally got to share the kiss you had been deprived of and not only was it full of love but also full of hope for your future

“then lets go”

and you two sprinted off to your next adventure together

the flute you possessed was one he could no longer hear the sound of after that day

for it was enchanted, only to be be heard by those who were lost and lonely

with you he was neither anymore

and he couldnt be any happier than living out the rest of his days with you as a free man, a bird outside of its cage

#oikawa headcanons #oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyu x reader

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cheswirls · 4 years ago

Text

this was meant to be a set of drabbles but the length of the first one got away from me, so it gets its own post. ill do the others some other time, probably when the month gets easier.

“can i stay over?”

sabo blinks, losing concentration from the sentence on his computer screen. he looks up and over the top at ace on the adjacent side of the table. “what?”

“can i stay over?” ace repeats, less question in his tone the second time around. he steeples his hands and rests his chin on top.

“yeah, sure,” sabo says before he thinks about it much, still in a daze. ace hums and doesn’t say anything, so he slowly turns back to his laptop. but then ace is standing, stretching with his arms over his head, and lazily turning in a circle to wander to the edge of the room.

“i’m taking a shower,” he says, and sabo, who had stopped reading again to watch, nearly has an aneurysm as he processes the words.

“w-what?” he sputters, sitting up straighter, gathering his legs under him.

ace turns his head back, frowning, one hand on the bathroom door. “shower?”

“oh. okay.” he can’t help if it his voice squeaks. twice.

“you’ll let me sleep with you but you draw the line at using your soap?”

“that’s not-” sabo waves him off. “just go.”

ace closes the door and sabo attempts to read the same line three different times before acknowledging he was getting nowhere. he leans back with a sigh, letting his hood fall further back on his head, and gazes up at the popcorn texture of the ceiling. maybe he’d agreed to that too quickly. he was used to living alone, and though he and ace had been dating for a while now, they’d never done something like this before. plus, his schedule was already erratic. what if-

before he can incessantly worry any more, the shower turns off, and ace’s voice comes through the cracked door. “where’s the tie to your robe?”

oh. “that one’s gone,” he calls back. he blinks, startled, as a stray thought crosses his mind. “what clothes are you wearing?”

“can i borrow some of yours?”

“y-yeah?”

ace opens the door and moves into the main room, and sabo’s eyes catch on to the long tie belonging to his second robe -one that definitely couldn’t fit ace- wrapped around the material. ace turns the light off as he passes and moves into sabo’s bedroom, and sabo feels himself breathe easier with the other out of sight. a ting has him glancing down to his phone, seeing one of the alarms he’d set has gone off. this drives him back to the computer, managing to finish reading the section he’d been on and start typing again.

ace comes back in and settles in his former seat, picking through the books he has spread on his side of the table until he finds the one he’s looking for, folding it shut. he grabs another one and a pen and leans back to read, and as soon as he’s not moving anymore sabo’s attention snaps fully to his paper. they pass the time as they’d been before, focused on their own schoolwork, until ace glances up at the time and starts shuffling his things into a neat pile.

a tap on the side of his keyboard draws sabo’s attention, and he looks over to see ace watching him. his fingers still on the keys. “yes?”

“it’s pretty late,” ace muses.

sabo frowns, resisting the urge to chew on his lip. “not that late,” he argues. it’s a moot point, and when ace’s eyes narrow in thought he turns back to the screen, unable to continue looking at him. “you can go to bed. this is due in the morning, and i’m almost done.”

“okay.” sabo’s shoulders drop with relief as ace gives in. “what time do you need to be up?”

“uhm.” sabo’s eyes lid. “my first class is at nine.” he usually figured that out right before he went to sleep, setting a random alarm that would satisfy his sleep schedule and leave him with enough time to not be late. thinking about it now, before midnight, and unsure of when he would be done, was . .

“got it.” he glances over at ace’s words, curious, but he’s already rising from his seat. sabo doesn’t spare him much thought after that, knowing he needed to concentrate if he was ever going to finish. the world fades to black on white, and he doesn’t notice as ace’s things begin to disappear from the table, as their miscellaneous snacks are put back away, and all the empty bottles and wrappers thrown in the trash. the lights dim until only the one above the oven in the corner remains, just enough for sabo to get by without casting him completely in darkness.

he only looks up again as ace kneels beside him, pulling his hood back a little. he turns his head to acknowledge him, and ace leans forward to place his lips on sabo’s forehead for a moment. then he pulls back and pulls sabo’s hood along with it.

“goodnight,” he murmurs.

sabo’s smile is soft, warm. he leans away as ace’s hand drops. “night.”

when sabo finally deems himself done, it’s nearing two in the morning. he closes the lid of his laptop and lifts his arms above his head in a stretch, arching his back. the kitchen light turns off in favor of the bathroom one, and he swings the door close to shut, knowing it would stay warmer without the air circulating. he pulls his hoodie over his head while turning the water on, giving it a minute to warm up.

after he towels off he throws on his newer, longer robe but pauses as he spies the tie tucked into the pocket. right, that was right, ace was-

sabo jerks to a stop after turning the bedroom light on, wincing. the futon is spread out in a corner of the room, ace’s back to him. he doesn’t rouse, but sabo turns off the main light in favor of the smaller one in the closet, instead. it takes a minute for his eyes to adjust.

he pauses again after working on some underwear and a shirt. that was usually all he wore to sleep, but he . . did he need pants? he owned some, but it was warm out, so it had been a while since they’d been touched. did it matter?

no. he stops himself from overthinking it. it didn’t matter. it was fine. he wasn’t going to change anything. this was all going to be . . okay.

the more he tried to convince himself of such, the less sure he became of it.

after all the lights are turned off, sabo moves over to the futon and frowns when he sees ace on the end closest. he reaches out with his foot and nudges ace’s back, until his head moves and he lets out a small noise.

“move,” sabo orders, and ace huffs. his head shifts up further, then down again, curling back into the pillows.

“‘s room,” he mumbles, moving an arm into the space between him and the wall. sabo’s lips purse.

“fine,” he breathes, stepping over ace. well, he usually ended up there anyways, so it worked out. he pries the edge of the thin blanket from around ace and pulls it over, until it’s evenly spread between them.

the futon is not big, and ace and sabo are two college kids, so the limited space is made less so with the both of them. sabo frowns as he inches away from the cold wall, tucking the blanket around that side, but then that brings him further into ace’s space, and-

an arm snakes around his side, warm, and sabo’s mouth that had opened in an inaudible gasp slams shut. he lets himself get dragged forward until he and ace share the same body heat, and their hair is overlaid on the same pillows. ace’s eyes are still closed, but his mouth was open a little, like he was debating speaking.

sabo beats him to it.

“i haven’t set an alarm yet.”

“done,” ace murmurs. “don’t stress.”

he shifts again, until his forehead is pressed lightly to sabo’s, and his eyes open just a little. his other arm moves up, hand curling under sabo’s cheek, and he leans into it, both his own hands moving to wrap loosely around ace’s forearm.

“okay?” ace asks, barely a breath, eyes already closing again.

“yeah,” sabo whispers back.

a faint noise rouses him from sleep, but it’s unlike what he’s used to, and his own phone would be blaring right by his head, so it had to be something else. eventually it stops and sabo relaxes again, content to ignore it.

movement wakes him again, and his eyes slant as they open.

“time to get up,” a voice says, right by his ear, and he realizes that the room was lighter, and he’d mistaken the dark fabric of a shirt for the darkness.

sabo’s eyes open more until he’s looking at ace properly. that was- that was right. “time?” he croaks.

“doesn’t matter. we’re getting up.”

ace smirks and sabo has one second to take that it before the blanket is gone, and it’s cold in the absence of all that heat and he curls into himself, shivering, drawing his bare legs closer to his chest. “shit,” he breathes, sharp, eyes wide. “why?”

“would you get up otherwise? c’mon, don’t-” ace reaches over to hook a hand under sabo’s bent knees and another around his shoulder, and pulls him halfway into his lap. sabo’s lips purse at the mistreatment, and he cranes his neck to bury his face in ace’s hip.

“horrible. awful. unbelievable,” he mutters, and above him, ace snickers.

“right, that’s me. what do you want to eat?”

sabo unearths his face to look up, eyes sparkling. “you’re making breakfast? god, i love you.”

ace rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “guess it’s my choice then. c’mon, off. up.”

sabo lets himself be pulled to a stand, the promise of food too tempting to ignore. he ignores whatever ace is doing in favor of washing his face, and throwing on some sweats. his hair is a mess, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with it properly just yet, so he combs it through with his fingers as he settles at the low table per ace’s request.

breakfast is amazing, but anything ace cooks is. it’s enough to make him forgive being roused before eight in the morning, and even moreso as they get ready together, slowly, leisurely, something sabo hasn’t had the foresight to plan in a long time. it’s nice to be able to afford to relax, and not have a whirlwind form while flying through his morning, barely making it out the door in time.

“did you finish your paper?” ace asks from behind him, running the brush through more tangles. sabo hums in response, leaning back on his hands, crossing his legs on the counter he was perched on. “do you need it printed?”

“yeah. i can do it on campus.” unfortunately his own printer had run out of ink the week prior. he’d yet to have time to go buy some more.

“we should leave soon, then.” ace steps back and sets the brush on the counter, and sabo opens his eyes.

“yeah, okay.”

ace ends up in the same clothes he had on yesterday, but he’s not overly concerned about it, and sabo knows he had a late start today, so he could always run home and change if he felt like it. they gather their things and step outside, and ace waits by his car as sabo locks the front door.

“i’ll swing by to get you later, and we can do lunch,” ace mentions as they turn into campus. sabo hums, moving his gaze from out the passenger window to over at ace.

“thanks,” he says, and then watches as ace blinks, trying to come up with a reason. he glances over when they roll to a stop at a crosswalk.

“what for?” he ends up asking.

“staying last night.”

“ah-” ace cuts off with a laugh. “it should be me thanking you. it’s not that big a deal, right?”

“no.” sabo unclips his seatbelt as they stop on the curb. he’d convinced himself that it was, and got worked up for nothing after all. he slides the door open. “i’ll see you later.”

ace raises one hand from the steering wheel to offer him a wave. “see you.”

sabo makes the mistake of looking back once he’s halfway out. he makes up his mind in a split second, moving back into the passenger seat, and leans smoothly over the center console to press his lips to ace’s. ace hums, hand stilled in the air moving to rest on the side of sabo’s hair. they stay like that for one, two, and then sabo’s moving back, climbing out of the car and waving once the door is shut.

he stays there until ace drives away, then digs his phone from his pocket as he makes for the doors.

#writing #saboace #op

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willadisastercry · 4 years ago

Text

the boys of voltron when pidge is on her period

TW: description of things to do with mestraution, reference to blood, and depiction of vomiting and passing out

SUMMARY: so basically the boys are absolutely clueless when it comes to Pidge being on her period, only some of them make the connection at times but they kind of eventually forget completely that she even gets it and allura can’t necessarily relate... good thing Pidge’s periods haven’t been particularly painful while she’s been in space, until this one is and she is not at all prepared.

{2:27 am}

Pidge woke up drenched in sweat.

“What the f...?” she mused groggily, blinking dumbly in the dark trying to figure out what was wrong until she felt it, the throbbing ache in her stomach just above her bladder that somehow spread insttantly to her lower back and made her hips feel like they were being wrenched apart.

“Ooowwh,” she groaned queasily, rolling to her side and hugging her stomach tightly.

Shit.

Pidge hadn’t had a heavy period since she’d been in space, she had been so busy with voltron, so physically active that it had lightened substantially and she almost forgot how painful they could be. It was sort of a blessing, that aspect at least.

But then the fact that she was in space at all was entirely inconvenient. No one got to pack before they became the universe’s greatest defender and the castle wasn’t necessarily toting the supplies humans needed, especially supplies specific to female humans. And they just didn’t carry pads or tampons in any Earth souvenir shops because why the fuck would they.

So, it was awkward enough having to explain to Allura the intricacies of the female reproductive system when she found stained painties in her bin after her first offfical space period, let alone having to relay that to Coran in order for him to create sanitary products for her. Pidge would be utterly mortified if she ever had to ask him for more than the additional supply or additionally medicine to take away the horrible cramps and other unpleasant symptoms. But she hadn’t needed to yet, so she had never worried about it.

Until now. Because now she was crying from the excruciating agony of cramps after not having any for who knew how long.

Voltron had been relatively inactive doing promotions on planets they freed from the Galra, so they hadn’t been on a particularly taxing mission in weeks. Pidge had never even considered the sudden decrease in physical activity could cause her period to come back in full force. She should have considered it. She could’ve ask Coran before... she could’ve made something to...

FUCK.

She almost cried out as the onset of another wave of cramps made her stomach churn. This was bad. Her head was already pounding and her back ached dully, for the moment overshadowed by how foul her stomach and uterus felt, taking turns pulsing but both succeeding in making her want to profusely vomit up all of the green alien goop she’d had for dinner earlier.

The boys had remarked at just how much she was eating that night. Now she knew why. And now she was really regretting it.

Pidge pulled herself up to a hunch and waited a beat as the movement ran its course, a new flare of pain spreading down her back and making its way to the joints of her hips.

She needed to do something. The pain was unbearable. Everything that could hurt, did. She blinked back dots, a small whimper escaping her lips at the thought of it not ceasing anytime soon and so she got to her feet to begin making her way to the kitchen to search for something, anything before the next wave landed and she lost her resolve.

The hallway outside of her room was dark, the only light coming from a lamp in the common room. She made her way swiftly. First to the bathroom with Coran’s alien solution of a pad. Pausing only to wash her hands before trudging on. And then she could feel her stomach pulling, getting ready for another gush of pain. She walked quicker after that, despite the deep ache in her back that threatened the contents in her stomach once more.

When Pidge finally made it to the kitchen she was blinking back more dots and leaning heavily on the counter as she reached for a glass, her hands shaking holding the pitcher as she filled it. She takes a couple of sips. Her headache was splitting now.

There’s nothing in the cabinets for pain relief, there’s usually tea... some sort of herb thing. But there’s nothing, she’ll have to go to the infirmary. And then the realization that she’ll have to drag herself all the way across the ship while she felt like this made her head spin.

Like genuinely spin. Pidge couldn’t decipher why she suddenly felt so faint, she’d eaten more than enough that night, yea sure it hurt but this didn’t warrant-

And before Pidge knew it her mind had gone blank. She didn’t remember letting go of her glass or falling but suddenly the floor was rushing up to meet her face very quickly.

The floor tile of the castle was very cold against her clamy skin and it was very helpful in reviving her, so was the insessant shaking.

Pidge blinked in confusion, but the pain that followed her renewed consciousness prevented any sort of protest. She looked up to see a very worried Keith shaking her shoulders slightly.

“Pidge! What the fuck?! Are you okay?” he rambled off quickly, his eyes working her over trying to deduce what could possibly be the problem.

“Yeah...” she said sort of sadly, but before she could even consider how to start explaining she made a humph sound and lurched forward, narrowly clamping a hand over her mouth to choke back down the saliva that had welled up in her mouth, just as Lance nearly tipped himself over with how fast he had raced to discover the source of commotion.

“What the fuck was that?” he inquired surveying the strange sight, “uh, you guys having a party or something?”

Neither of them answered as Keith scrambled to shove the bowl that previously held earth veggies under Pidge’s chin and helped her sit up before she began aggressively losing the contents of her stomach.

“Holy-“

“Lance, shut up! Pidge passed out... I don’t think she’s feeling great,” Keith explained, rubbing circles on Pidge’s back, her whole body trembling while she retched.

“Oh,” Lance softened, a pang of worry apparnt in his gut when he moved closer to check her out for himself.

He then got to work sweeping the broken glass away from where his friends sat before he lowered himself down as well. When Pidge finally came up for air she reddened immediately. This was just not ideal.

“I’m-i’m done, I think,” she rested her head back against the cabinet and held her stomach.

“So... what the heck was that?” Lance asked taking the bowl away to empty it.

“Uh, nothing—”

“Bull,” Keith interrupted. Pidge wasn’t expecting that, but then again she was talking to the king of hiding injuries and ailments and feelings, especially pain.

“No! I’m fine, really—“

“Yeahhh i’m just not buying it.”

Pidge’s heart dropped as she realized Keith wasn’t going to just let it go. Crap.

“You passed out and then almost threw up all over me, you’re not fine Pidge. You can tell us what’s wrong... it’s not like we’ll judge or anything,” Keith said gingerly and she knew he meant it. Fuck.

Am I really about to confide in these two boneheads about my period? In space?!

“You can’t laugh,” she choked as another ache stole her breath. It was looking like she would in fact have to admit she was on her period if she wanted any sort of remedy, of which she really really did.

UGH.

“We won’t, we promise,” Lance assured. She didn’t expect that either. From him at least.

“I’m on my fucking period,” she whispered almost inaudibly. Keith nodded in understanding.

“Oh! Well that explains it,” Lance breathed, “I thought you were like deathly ill or something.”

“Juries still out on that one,” Pidge grimaced, squirming as she tried to find a more comfortable position, one that didn’t put so much pressure on her hips or her stomach or her back.

“Oh, c’mon—“

“I wouldn’t finish that statement if I were you buddy,” Keith tried to hold back his laugh.

“Listen to the mullet,” Pidge warned, her death stare shutting the boy up instantly, “because only when you can handle feeling your uterus shedding its own skin without what just happened occurring can you then talk, otherwise please save it.”

Whether it was her subtle threat or the way her voice shook with her last plead, Lance did as he was told.

“So, how can we help you?” Keith offered, “I don’t feel comfortable leaving you like this, like... I mean I know you’re not traditionally sick but for all intents and purposes sure seem to be. So what can we do?”

Pidge shifted uncomfortably, unable to keep a straight face now.

“You can help me find some sort of medicine to take. Anything, literally anything. For pain, or sleep, or death, I don’t care. I’m good with whatever you can find.”

“Damn, I’m sorry Pidge. I’ve never seen you like this over your... your period before,” Lance apologized and scratched his head.

“Yeah, because it’s never been this bad,” she tried to steady her breath and shut her eyes, swaying her knees slowly from side to side because she was so freaking antsy and in such pain it was all she could to do to somewhat soothe herself.

“She look pale to you?” Pidge was barely aware of Lance hushing his worry under his breath.

“Yeah, but she’s like flushed too.”

“Hm...”

And then there was the back of a cold hand against her forehead and an exclamation of concern.

The boys looked at each other worriedly like “shit, this is bad” and then launched into a discussion on how they were going to proceed. Pidge didn’t listen to the conversation that followed, she could only focus on keeping her fist pressed against the right spot on her lower back and refraining from crying out as the pain rose and dulled and rose again.

And then Lance was nudging her, his hands out for her to take. He helped her to her feet, his hands firm on her back when she stopped to wait for the blood rush to dissipate and then guided her over to the sunken couch. Keith must’ve been asleep on it before because there was a pillow and unraveled blanket next to a curled up Kosmo.

She laid down slowly while the boys bustled around her, not having enough energy to accurately produce any theories explaining why Keith would be sleeping in here and not in his own room, saving the thought for later.

Then she was aware that the boys had gone off to wherever and she was alone with a peaceful Kosmo as another horrible pain flared up in her back and travelled to her hips.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, unable to surpress the tears as they rolled down her face, her breath hitching now. Pidge rolled to her stomach and brought her legs under her in a sort of mock child’s pose, accidentally waking Kosmo up in the process. But to her surprise, he didn’t seem annoyed at the disturbance like he normally would’ve been, he’d stretched out in front of her and licked her face instead.

Pidge could’ve sworn he looked genuinely worried, somehow sensing that the salty wetness of her face and contorted breathing meant anguish, because he then went to comfort her. This is right about when Keith and Lance turned up with Coran and some strange alien goodies in the heat of an enlightening conversation about how a cryopod likely wouldn’t make a lick of a difference in this situation.

“Good boy,” Keith commended, petting his wolf’s head who was in a vice grip in Pidge’s arms, but he didn’t seem to mind in the least.

“Little one, I am displeased to hear of your great discomfort. If I had known these menstrautions could be accompanied by such horrible pains I would’ve something prepared sooner... but fear not, my girl, because I may very well have a few remedies that might do the trick.”

Pidge sighed and heaved herself to a sitting position, Kosmo turning himself around and nestling in her lap. The boys silently remarking at how she’d somehow looked worse than before.

Her face and eyes were blotchy and puffy from crying and her trembling was more apparent now, either from the cold of the common room or her abnormal temperature, regardless she looked like she was really going through it.

And she was because as soon as she straightened up her face fell. Keith didn’t wait even a tick before he took off barreling for the veggie bowl, vaulting over the couch just in time to once again shove the bowl under Pidge’s chin.

Kosmo whined in distress.

“My girl...” Coran lamented, fussing with the supplies they had gathered in Lance’s arms.

“Here, once you’ve calmed down try this, it’ll make you sleepy but it should ease the pain for now,” Coran had a thick blue leaf in his hands.

Pidge nodded, Keith’s hand behind her neck gripping her solidly in case she tipped over because she looked like she was about to. Her face was ashen, almost tinged green.

“I’ll get you something to wash that down with,” Lance stated and headed for the kitchen. Coran headed off somewhere too.

It took her a minute to be sure she was done but when she was she shivered and sat back, Kosmo nudging his head under her arm.

“You cold? Or just shaky?”

“Cold. I run fevers sometimes but only usually the first day and then I spew when the cramps pick up... hey look, I’m sorry to be making such a fuss so late and keep you all up for something so stup—“

“Are you kidding?” Keith seemed genuinely taken back as he draped the blanket he was using earlier around the tiny girl’s shoulders.

“Wha—don’t apologize!! You know we’d all do anything to make sure you’re okay, your Pidge! You’re like our nerdy little sister, how can we not fuss over you?” Lance said when he returned with a little laugh. Pidge managed a smile while she gnawed on the oddly textured leaf, gulping it down quickly with the water Lance brought.

“And I was up anyway,” Keith started “I couldn’t sleep so I came out to hang with Kosmo. I was surprised you didn’t yell at me for being awake when you first came in. And then I heard the glass break followed by a sloid thud, so naturally I needed to see if ya know you were alive.”

They all laughed at that. Pidge let out a big yawn.

“I forgot you even get your period, Pidge. You never let on that you’re in pain, like ever. That’s freaky, that’s like a superpower holy--”

“I’ve got just what you need, my girl!” Coran beamed, effectively shutting down Lance’s tangent.

Coran presented Pidge with a blanket.

“Uhh, thanks?” she took it from him and rubbed at her eyes.

He then held up a remote and pressed a button. The blanket started to glow, it was getting warm.

“Oh, yes! You’re the best, Coran.”

Pidge gave Keith’s blanket back and wrapped Coran’s around her middle, Kosmo seemed to like it to because he nuzzled into it and pawed at her for more of it to cover him.

“I don’t get it, if she’s feverish isn’t she gonna over heat?” Keith asked, more confused than anything, and maybe a little sad that his blanket was rejected.

“From what Allura has told me, heat sometimes soothes the cramps associated with a female human’s menstruation! It is quite fascinating, but it makes perfect sense, you see the release of the hormone prostaglandin is a hypothermic process so--”

“Okay, spare us and our simple minds. Anyway let’s be quieter, I think she’s finally asleep,” Lance pointed to a very peaceful Pidge curled up in her new blanket with Kosmo, her mouth hung open and steadily blowing on a tuft of hair with each breath.

“I think it’s time for you boys to retire as well,” Coran suggested, settling down at the other end of the couch, “I’m sure our Pidgeon has greatly appreciated all of your assistance, but you both need to rest, I can watch over her from here.”

Keith and Lance shared a look.

“What’s the harm is staying with her a bit longer, just to make sure she doesn’t get sick again or anything, ya know?” Keith postured.

“Yeah, I don’t see anything wrong with staying just a little while longer,” Lance said stretching out at Pidge’s feet, she was nestled in the corner of the couch, so Keith took to the other part of the couch by Kosmo and rubbed his nose.

And within no time the two boneheads were out. Lance’s head resting on Pidge’s leg as a pillow, limbs strewn all about, snoring like an old man. While Keith was cacooned himself in his own blanket all but his arm because it was trapped under both Pidge and Kosmo.

This was the scene that Allura walked into early that morning. She was very confused to say the least.

#voltron pidge #pidge gunderson #pidge whump #vld headcanons

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diddlesanddoodles · 5 years ago

Text

DUMPLING ch 33

She had managed to quell the flames after a minute or so. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was in familiar and comfortable company or if she was beginning to understand how to manipulate the fire. Avery and Saen continued with their taunts for the remainder of the time she spent in the camp and as the sun began to hang low in the sky, Quinn called out to her and asked if she could come over and stand near the tent so he could find something in the dark. She just stuck her tongue out at him.

It seemed like no time at all when Lolly returned to collect her. She walked over to Bart and patted his shoulder. “You were right about the jam, Bart. The little prince perked right up.”

Bart chuckled. “Thought he might.”

“And the Princess is up and eating, so I am pleased with that,” Lolly continued. “She’s still awfully frightened, the poor thing. Jumping at every noise and shadow...”

“Must be hard being in the house of the fella that slaughtered yer whole family,” Bart replied in a soft voice, possibly so as to keep Nenani from hearing. “She might take a while yet to calm. That’s an awful long time to be in hidin’ and certainly won’t be settin’ itself right in a day.”

“I wish there was something more we could do to calm her nerves. If you think of anything, don’t be shy by about sharing it,” Lolly replied. “Too bad jam doesn’t work as well with her as it did Haiyer.”

Bart chuckled. “A few days of rest and you takin’ care of her should help plenty, lass. Ye only had the Dumplin’ there fer a few hours when she showed up and ye worked wonders fer her.”

“I appreciate your confidence in me,” she replied with a gracious smile and then turned to Nenani. She was sitting near Avery’s station helping him cut lengths of twine to tie up roasts. “Well, little ma’am, are you ready?”

“Can’t I stay a little longer? Until Farris gets back?” Nenani pleaded. She had hoped Farris would have been back by then, but he had thus far failed to materialize.

“Oh, now put that pout away, missy,” Lolly replied. “It won’t get you anywhere with me.”

“Ye tryin’ to steal my twine cutter, woman?” Avery asked in mock outrage.

“Yer twine cutter’s overqualified,” Lolly shot back with a faint smirk.

Avery huffed a laugh. “My twine cutter’s cuttin’ her twine too long. Yer wastin’ my good twine, Dumplin’!”

“No, I’m not,” Nenani replied, glaring at Avery but without any heat. “You don’t double loop on the last one like Bart does so it just looks longer because you’re doing it wrong.”

Behind them, Bart laughed.

“I ain’t doin’ it wrong,” Avery replied defensively and inspected over one of the roasts he had already tied and placed in the waiting roasting pan. “See? Just as it should be.”

“They come undone if you don’t double loop the last one,” Nenani replied.

Avery leaned down into her space, regarding her with a quirked eyebrow. “I’ve been doin’ this longer than ye’ve been alive, lass. I think I know how to tie a roast.”

“That’s a long time to be doing it all wrong,” she shot back with a grin and yelped when Avery abruptly grabbed her up and shoved her towards Lolly.

“Take her,” Avery said dramatically. “Before I double loop her and add her to the roasts.”

Nenani was giggling as Lolly took hold of her and just before Lolly turned away, she stuck her tongue out at Avery who returned the expression gleefully.

“Go on with ye then,” he said with a laugh, waving them on and returning to his work. She did notice however, he double looped the last roast. Lolly let Nenani say her goodbyes to the others before taking her back to the Blossom room.

The corridors were abuzz with activity and Lolly was forced several times to dodge a wayward footmen or maid dashing down the hall. “Bettie! Have you pulled the south lawn laundry yet?” Lolly asked as one particular maid hurriedly brushed passed them.

“Just fetching it now, ma’am!” the young woman called back, face flushed.

“Well, go on then,” Lolly replied, non too pleased. “It should have been done more than an hour ago.”

The dark haired young maid dipped into a curtsy. “Sorry, ma’am,” young Bettie replied. “It’s just...I got distracted.”

Lolly clicked her tongue and shook her head disapprovingly. “That’s no excuse, you’re old enough to know better than to let little things distract you from your work.”

“I am sorry, it’s just...well, you’ll hear about it soon enough, I suppose. They found something in the west wing. Something big.”

Lolly huffed dismissively. “I don’t care what they found. I care that the King’s linens aren’t left out longer than need be. Once you’ve taken them down, get with Madam Reed and help her with the aprons. Wendy is ill and Ginger doesn’t have the upper arm strength to work the mangle.”

Bettie wilted, but gave another polite bow and turned to ostensibly go take care of the south lawn laundry.

“What’s a mangle?” Nenani asked.

“It’s a contraption they use down in the laundry to wring out excess water after they’ve washed something,” Lolly replied. “Very useful, but if you’re not careful it’ll smash your fingers. They’re washing your all boys’ aprons tonight and it’s quite a job to get all that oil and blood out of white cloth. They all have to be boiled in large tubs overnight. If you think Quinn and Kol get a work out making all that bread, you really should see my laundry maids on apron day. Those boys would not be able to keep up.”

Nenani grinned at that, putting away the nugget of information the next time she saw Quinn and Kol. The closer to the royal apartments they got, the less and less staff they ran into and more and more guards were to be seen. They passed one door that had two armed guards standing in front and Nenani craned her neck to peer at them as Lolly walked passed.

“What’s in there?” she asked.

“That’s Jae’s room,” Lolly replied. “After the attack, his Majesty's had guards posted outside his room night and day.”

“He got hurt trying to protect me,” Nenani said in a regretful and quiet voice.

“I’m very proud of him, actually,” Lolly told her. She looked up into the Matron’s face, curious. “He was very brave defending you against that monster.”

“But,” she said. “He almost died...I thought he did...”

“He will be very glad to see you once he is better enough for visitors,” Lolly told her. “Don’t fret now, sweetie. We have much to be thankful for and I am sure Jae will agree with me that there is no use regretting what we can not change. Besides, I am sure he will find ways in which to have you pay him back in spades once he is much recovered.” Nenani laughed at that, feeling better. Though she did regret involving him at all, she was very grateful to have him as a friend. She would need to think of some way of repaying him. A gift maybe? She would thin about it.

When they neared the Blossom room, Nenani was surprised to see two armed guards standing on either side of their door as well. She did not remember them being there before.

“Hello gentleman,” Lolly said as she approached. Both guards stepped aside to make room for her.

“Ma’am,” said of the guards, tipping his head politely to her and then his eye drew down to Nenani. He bowed his head in a more formal way. “M’lady.”

Nenani was about to reject his use of the honorific, but Lolly was stepping through the lintel and into the room before she could do more than open her mouth.

“You’re going to have to get use to that, I’m afraid,” Lolly said with a little snicker as she closed the door behind her.

“...hm,” Nenani grumbled, but a curious sound drew her attention. Haiyer was standing on the window sill, pressing his hands and face to the glass and giggling. Oira sat up in her bed, watching him with a content smile. When Lolly entered, Oira flinched, the smile disappearing in a flash of sudden fear, but it was gone the moment she recognized Lolly.

“My apologies, m’lady,” Lolly said as she placed Nenani on the bed. “I should have knocked.”

“No, it’s alright,” said Oira with a forced smile. “I’m still...it’s just...it’s been so long since I’ve been in Vhasshal or spoken with any of its people. I’ve quite forgotten my manners.”

“Not at all,” Lolly replied and stood there contemplative for a moment before continuing, “If it isn’t impertinent for me to say, Princess: I do not blame you for being frightened. Gods above we’ve given you every reason to fear us. It is my hope, though, that you come to see us as allies once more.”

“Please, do not call me that. I do not hold a title,” Oira said shaking her head. “And you don’t need my permission to speak frankly. In fact, I prefer it. I never did much care for the pageantry and parade that came with it all or all the flowery talk. It was always too easy to lie with people spoke with roses in their mouths. I was always terrible at it.” She gave Lolly a small smile. “Please. Just call me Oira.”

“Very well then,” Lolly said, smiling brightly. “I would also be very happy if you would call me Lolly.”

Oira returned the smile. “We have an accord then, Lolly.”

Haiyer’s loud squeal of joy drew their focus to him and the little boy was hopping up and down enthusiastically.

“What is out there?” Lolly asked, leaning to the side to peer through the window.

“He said he saw a fairy,” Oira replied, the content smile returning.

Nenani furrowed her brow. “A fairy?”

“It’s probably just a silverwing catching the light,” her mother said. “He claims to seem them all the time. Silverwings, fireflies, and so on. They’re all fairies to him.”

“...could it not be a real fairy?” Nenani asked. Both her mother and Lolly gave her patient smiles.

“Fairies only exist in stories,” Oira replied. “Otherwise I would be very concerned that one seemed to be taking interest in your brother.”

“Why? Are fairies bad?”

“When I was very young,” Lolly said, watching Haiyer with great amusement. “My mother told me that if I didn’t behave, fairies would come and snatch me away and take me to their fairy kingdom and I would never be seen again. Absolutely terrified me. I was scared of fireflies for years because my cousin told me they were fairies looking for children to spirit away.”

“We didn’t really have those kinds of stories in Silvaara. Evil mages and witches and such, yes,” Oira said. “My first governess terrorized me with stories of the Moor Witch.”

“Moor Witch?” Lolly asked. “I’m not familiar with that one.”

“She’s supposed to be an Ibronian spellweaver who was cast out for cursing the daughter of a great lord,” Oira explained. “And she roams the lands in search of naughty children to cook up or use as ingredients in her evil spells.”

“Why are all childhood stories always about something that wants to harm them in some way?” Lolly asked. “There are easier ways to get children to mind you properly without resorting to terrorizing them.”

Oira just shrugged. “Who is to say. I always felt there was enough true evil in the world to resort to tales of flight and fancy.”

Lolly nodded solemnly. “That is very true.”

“I wanted to thank you again for bringing the jam for Haiyer,” Oira said. “I haven’t seen him so excited in a long time.”

“I cannot take credit for that one,” Lolly replied with a grin, waving her hand dismissively. “It was Bart’s idea.”

Oira looked to Nenani. “Is he one of your kitchen friends?”

“Yup,” Nenani said smiling. “He’s the head butcher.”

“Well, when you see him next, tell him he has my gratitude,” she said and they all turned when Haiyer gave another loud squeal of joy, waving at his ‘fairy’. Oira laughed. “And Haiyer’s as well.”

Nenani walked across the bed to the side table next to it and just under the window. Hopping the small gap, she walking up and eased herself up onto the sill. Haiyer looked at her and grinned, holding up the blue stone that Nenani have given him prior.

“You were right! It is magic,” he said, bouncing a little. “Ellis said it’s really powerful too.”

“Who?” Nenani asked.

“The fairy,” he said. “She said it will protect me from the bad man.”

“Is Ellis still outside?” she asked, indulging in her little brother’s play and looking through the window. She could see the roofs and a watch tower and just the corner of what she assumed was the west wing as she could see fire damage. But there did not seem to be a fairy out there.

“No, she went away,” Haiyer replied in such a serious matter of fact way that Nenani couldn’t help but grin at him. “Ellis is very shy.”

“Is she your friend?” Nenani asked.

“Yep!” he said. He still had jam on his face and on his fingers. There were small sticky fingerprints all over the window. “She comes to see me sometimes. When I’m sad. And tells me funny stories to cheer me up.”

“Well so long as she doesn’t try to snatch you and take you to the fairy kingdom.”

Haiyer shook his head. “She said she couldn’t,” he replied. “Because she’s not allowed there anymore because she did a bad thing. So she lives in the mountains with her friend when she’s not visiting me.”

“Oh? Who is her friend? Another fairy?”

“No, he’s a giant,” he said once more in that matter of fact way. “Ellis says he’s really smelly, but she likes him anyway.”

Nenani tilted her head. “...a giant?”

“Uh-huh,” Haiyer said, sitting down next to Nenani on the edge of the sill; his little legs contently swinging back and forth. He noticed the jam on his fingers and licked them clean. “I never met him, but she said he doesn’t eat people like other giants and that’s he’s nice.”

Nenani laughed. “What’s his name?”

“Bertol,” he said. “Ellis said he can see the future.”

Nenani stared, a sudden sinking feeling in her belly and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

……………………………………………………………….

When night finally fell, Nenani and Haiyer settled into their beds and their mother took her time carefully tucking each of them in. Color was returning to her face and though she still looked tired, there was a more gentle easiness about her that made Nenani feel very relieved. Haiyer’s eyes were already closed by the time Oira finished pushing in the blanket around him snugly. Once the little boy was tucked in, she turned to Nenani, smiling. “I’ve dreamed of this so many times,” she said quietly as she pulled the blanket over her. “And I always wondered if Halden would tuck you or sing to you.”

“Sometimes, but he never sang as pretty as you,” Nenani replied, a funny fluttering sensation in her chest. It had been so long since her mother had tucked her in and it was almost like she was little again. Before all the bad things happened. Oira’s smile widened and she huffed a quiet laugh. And then began to sing...

“A rose for my beauty

So red

And frail

A peach for my sweetheart

So sweet

And pale

A hug for my darling

So warm

And brief

A goodnight kiss for my baby

To hold

To keep...”

Nenani closed her eyes, letting her mother’s words drift over her and closed her eyes. No dreams came to her, but she slept deeply and peacefully. So she was surprised when he eyes fluttered open and it was still dark. She sat up and looked around the room, the moon having cast a dreamy pale light that allowed her to see fairly well. Both her mother and brother were soundly asleep and it was only when she heard the voices from outside the door that she understood what had woken her.

“Sorry, sir,” she heard the muffled worlds of one of the guards. “They’re all in for the night and we have order not to allow anyone inside without...”

“Aye, I’m sure ye do boys and I thank ye fer it. Figured it was a lost errand, but nothin’ ventured nothin’ gained. I’ll say goodnight, then.”

Nenani’s heart skipped a beat and she threw off her bed clothes and scrambled to the wooden stairs set beside the larger bed and almost fell the last two steps in her haste. She ran to the door and began to bang on it. “Open the door!” she yelled, slamming her fist into the wood with such force that her hand hurt. “Open it, please!”

“Nenani, what’s wrong?” her mother asked worriedly from her bed.

“That was Farris!” Nenani replied, turning to look up at her mother with pleading eyes. “He’s just outside!”

Oira sighed in relief and shook her head. “Darling, it’s late, you’ll be able to say hello tomorrow...”

“No! I need to see him now!” Her fists returned to banging on the door, but still it didn’t move. She growled in frustration and gave it a firm kick. “I said open the fucking door!”

She heard her mother gasp. “Nenani, that’s...”

The locking mechanism clicked high above her head and the knob began to turn and it had barely opened at all before she was wedging herself through the gap and she spilled out into the hallway.

“What the...”

“M-m’lady, what’s…?” Nenani ignored the confused uttering of the guards and looked around. She spotted movement at the end of the hall as it turned the corner and she ran towards it. Behind her, she could heard the confused guards talking and then her mother call her name, but she ignored them all. When she rounded the corner, she abruptly hit a wall of leather and fell back with a startled cry.

“Ah!”

“Oi!” She looked up and met Farris’s green eyes as they went from wide and surprised to narrow and angry. “What the –? Dumplin’! What th’ fuck are ye doin’?”

She scrambled to her feet, her eyes suddenly blurring and she knew her hands were glowing, but did not have it in her to care. “I wanted to see you before but they said you went to the market and Lolly wouldn’t let me wait for you and Bart said he was gonna ask the King’s falcon man to send Yale a note to let him know I’m okay and then I heard you just now but I couldn’t reach the door knob and they were opening the door really slow!”

“Take a breath lass, yer turning blue,” Farris said with a confused chuckle as he knelt down. His eyes flicked down to her hands. “...and yer glowin’.”

Nenani looked at her hands and growled in frustration as her finger tips began to flicker with flames. “I can’t help it, it just happens now.”

Farris snorted into his hand. “Aye, the boys were tellin’ me about yer new trick an’ all that.”

“And before you ask,” Nenani said firmly and holding up a glowing finger. “No one’s allowed to call me Princess, Princess Dumpling, or m’lady. I’m not any of those things. I’m just me.”

He laughed properly at that, wiping a hand across his brow. “Alright, then. Any other commands ye have fer me, lil’un?”

Nenani stared into her guardian’s face and thought for a moment – there was so much she wanted to say – but in lieu to vomiting out all the miasmic thoughts and worries congealing in her head, she simply held her arms out, face pleading. Farris’s eyes softened and he reached down towards her, pulling her little body into his hands and raised her up. The pressure and warmth of his grip was a welcome and familiar presence and she felt herself trembling as she fought to keep her emotions from sending her into a blaze.

“Oh, my lil’ darlin’,” he said quietly, pulling her close to him, tucking her under his chin and wrapping her up with his hands. He was nearly enveloping her and she felt the wave of relief wash over her. “Thank the Gods yer alright. I thought I’d lost ye.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, pushing her face into his shirt.

“Don’t,” he told her firmly. “I won’t be hearin’ it.”

“But he hurt you and you were bleeding!” she cried, shaking. “And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before about what was going on and maybe if I did you and Jae wouldn’t have gotten hurt and now everything’s all weird and scary and I just...I just...”

“Lil’un,” Farris said in the same stern tone, pulling her away from him to peer at her. “Yer not responsible fer what that bastard did.”

“But I am still sorry,” she whimpered. “Everyone keeps telling me not to be, but I can’t help it. My friends were hurt and I’m sorry for it. Even if it wasn’t my fault, I still feel like it is. I can’t help it.”

Farris shook his head, suppressing a grin and then fixed her with a look. “Nenani. We wouldn’t be stickin’ our neck out fer ye if we didn’t think ye were worth protectin’. Princess or not, fire mage or not...yer still the same scrawny lil’ lass yer always were. I took a vow when I had that marker made.” He pointed to the small metal mediallion still around her neck. Through everything that had happened, she had managed to keep a hold of it. “And it don’t matter who or what ye are. I intend to keep that promise. Whatever the risks. Understand me, lil’un?”

Nenani nodded and sniffed, wiping at her cheeks with her sleeve. “Yes.”

“And I should be the one tellin’ ye I’m sorry,” he said and hesitated, swallowing against the emotion rising in his throat. “Yer just a lil’ girl. Ye shouldn’t have to be worryin’ about some deranged fuck tryin’ to kill ye. Ye got hurt ‘cause I couldn’t protect ya like I should’a.”

Nenani shook her head and opened her mouth to protest his words, but he pulled her to him again and said quietly, “And when I thought ye were gone, lass…I haven’t felt so low in a mighty long time... a mighty long time.” Nenani didn’t trust herself to speak so she squeezed her hands against his fingers. “And then the boys all told me how Keral’d brought ye back from the dead somehow and who ye really were and…what ye were.”

He pulled her away again so he could look at her. His eyes were always so sharp and piercing, but now they were soft and warm and there were tears pooling under them. “But all I cared about was knowin’ my lil’un was alive. Safe. And home.” She broke down and sobbed, the flames began to dance around her, but Farris didn’t even flinch.

“I...” Nenani struggled to speak and swallowed thickly. “I...I never...finished the tonics…”

The spice master’s face broke out into a wide grin. “Ah, now. Don’t be worryin’ about that, lass.”

“But, it’s my job right?” She said, looking into his face, pleadingly. “Will...will you still teach me?”

“If ye still want to be learnin’ all that,” Farris replied. “Seems a like a lowly way fer a Princess to be spendin’ her time.”

She hung her head. “I don’t want to be a Princess if it means I can’t be with you all anymore...”

He pulled her close to his face, nuzzling her. “Yer always welcome down there with us, Dumplin’,” he said softly. “Always.”

Farris’s eyes suddenly darted over to the corner and he pulled Nenani away from him. She turned around as best she could within his hands and saw her mother standing at the corner of the corridor, watching them.

“Mama!” Nenani said, grinning. “This is Farris.”

Farris then seemed to remember himself and careful as he might, sat Nenani back on her feet, clearing his throat quickly and straightening his shirt. “Apologies m’lady,” he said somewhat awkwardly. “I was just...”

“No, no, please. Don’t be,” Oira assured him quickly with a smile. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“I didn’t mean to wake ye, I know it’s late,” Farris said with a bow of his head and Oira stared at him for a moment.

“When Keral told me that Nenani had been living here for over three months and that she was being looked after by the cooks,” Oira said. “I couldn’t help but imagine the most horrible things...”

Farris blinked at her and nodded solemnly. “...I can understand why,” he replied seriously. “But none of my boys or I would ever hurt her.”

Her mother smiled, looking profoundly relieved. “I can see that now. I feel foolish for having ever thought otherwise. It’s very obvious that you love her dearly. And I can’t thank you enough for taking her in, sir.”

“Yer very generous, m’lady,” Farris bowed his head. “But it’s not anythin’ more than any other decent folks would’a done.”

She studied him for a moment, her smile fading.

“No, it’s not. It’s so much more,” Oira said frankly, shaking her head. “I know many supposedly decent people who all turned her away. People I had thought I could rely on. People who had known her since birth. Being a decent person doesn’t make someone good hearted. And I believe you have a very good heart, sir.” She paused. “Nenani told me that she caught the reap and that you were the one who gave her medicine and stayed with her through the fever. All those decent people I knew would have thrown her away in fear of catching it. But not you.”

Farris seemed at a loss for how to respond.

“And I overheard all that you were saying just before,” Oria continued with a grateful smile. “You care for Nenani greatly, do you not, sir?

“Like she was m’own,” Farris replied without hesitation.

Oira was silent for a long moment, studying the larger man as though seeking something in his eyes.

“I have failed her so many times,” she said finally, voice quiet. “It just seemed the harder I tried to protect her, the further away she became until...she was all alone. I was never there when she needed me most,” said the woman, her eyes brimming with emotion. “But you were. And I will be forever in your debt for it. She needs people she can rely on and it’s clear to me how much she cares for you too.”

“M’lady, I...”

“Please,” Oira replied with a small laugh. “I haven’t been a lady for a long time and I’ve all but forgotten how to act the part. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’d prefer if we spoke frankly.”

“Aye, I can do that,” Farris replied, seeming fairly pleased with the idea. “Lil’ relieved to here ye say it, if we’re speakin’ plainly. Never been all that good with that flowery talk.”

Her mother laughed at that, nodding in wholehearted agreement and then regarded Farris curiously, smiling. “I have to say, I find you far more tolerable than your brother.”

“Oh, aye? First time I’ve ever been accused a’ that,” Farris grinned. “But Keral’s not so bad once ye come to understand his...idiosyncrasies.”

“His idiosyncrasies are in need of a bath,” Oira replied tersely and earned herself a loud bark of a laugh from Farris.

“Fat chance a that, lass,” he chuckled. “Mum’s been tryin’ to get him to bathe regularly since he was ten. If her chasin’ ‘im with a broom ain’t gonna convince ‘im, ye ain’t got a breath of a’ prayer.”

“Your poor mother,” she replied. She looked to Nenani with a pointed look. “I could never keep this one away from mud puddles. And I swear she only had any interest in them until after she’d already had a bath.”

“Aye, she does have a knack fer findin’ a mess to throw herself into,” Farris remarked with a smirk and then regarded Oira with a curious look. “I’ve been teachin’ her how to mix tonics few a wee bit. I don’t suppose ye would have any objections on that continuin’?”

Oira seemed a little surprised by the question but recovered quickly. “Not at all. It’s a very useful skill to have. And I’m sure she’d love any excuse to visit you.”

Nenani gave her mother the biggest grin she could manage, her flames dying down until only her fingertips glowed. “So I can still go to the kitchen? Even if it’s not proper…?”

“Nenani,” she said patiently and cupped her daughter’s face in her hands. “You’ve made a life here all your own. And I don’t want to tear you away from that, but to to be apart of it. My only wish is to see you safe and happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“Thank you,” she said and hugged her mother.

“Alright then,” Farris said with a smirk and carefully eased himself back onto his feet. “I’ll be seein’ ya tomorrow morning then, lass.”

“After breakfast though,” Nenani added quickly. “I’m not waking up with the chickens.”

“Pickin’ and choosin’ yer terms a bit there, ain’t ye?” Farris asked and then nodded. “But, aye. After breakfast then. I’ll say goodnight to ye both.”

“Goodnight,” Nenani said with a big smile.

“Goodnight,” Oira echoed before adding, “And thank you, Farris. Truly.”

The kitchen master dipped his head before turning away to walk back down the hall towards the servant’s corridor entrance, his head held a little higher.

#Dumpling #G/t story #Giant/tiny #handheld #G/T #Nenani #Farris #Haiyer #Oira #Bart #Avery #Lolly #g/t fantasy story

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squirrelacorngliterfarts · 5 years ago

Text

Blood. 46.

“(y/n)! there is someone here to see you!” ubbe shouts as he comes into the hall, his eyes scanning for his young sister.she comes out from behind one of the pillars and smiles at him, her head cocked to the side in confusion.

“who is it, ubbe?” she asks taking ubbe’s hand as she walks to his side.

“it is a secret” ubbe whispers, winking once he finishes his sentence, which makes (y/n) giggle.

they arrive outside of the hall and find lagertha standing by a few men and women, horses behind her.

(y/n)”s eyes widen and a grin overtakes her face.

“lagertha!” she cries out with joy, dropping ubbe’s hand and running towards the older woman.

lagertha laughs and bends low, picking the girl up and holding her tight to her chest, twirling her in her arms.

“hello, sweet (y/n)” lagertha greets, kissing the girls forehead.

lagertha pulls back and looks the darling child in her bright eyes, nodding her head towards her horse.

“i think he has something for you”.

(y/n) smiles towards the large stallion, noticing the satchel attached to it’s side.

lagertha carries the girl over towards the horse, poking at the brown bag.

“open it”.

(y/n) does as she’s told, hesitantly, and opens the bag, gaping when she sees it’s contents.

it is a small sewn doll, eyes replaced with two blue jewels, apparently the ones lagertha found on a raid once, long ago.

it was beautiful, one of the most eye dazzling things (Y/n) had ever seen.

“is that really for me?” (y/n) asks, looking from the doll to lagertha, only smiling wider when lagertha nods.

“it is. she’s all yours. she was finished being stitched up this morning”.

lagertha laughs as (y/n) wraps her arms around lagertha, hugging her even tighter.

“thank you!” (y/n) whispers, keeping the doll close to her chest.

“you are very welcome” lagertha says, feeling an almost empty ache in her heart.

it almost felt like having a daughter again.

little gyda would have loved (y/n) just as much as she did.

“(y/n)!”.

they both turn and find the eyes of aslaug peering at them from under her hood, a somewhat forced smile upon her lips.

“lagertha. i hadn’t known you were coming” aslaug says politely, pressing her two young sons ubbe and hvitserk into her sides, young sigurd running out as well.

“i was only passing through to see (y/n). i can’t stay-”.

“no” (y/n) cuts in, gaining both of the women’s attention. “don’t go. you can stay for a bit longer. please?”.

lagertha shakes her head, smiling softly.

“i have to go back to hedaby, but i will visit again soon, i promise” lagertha says, trying fight back the urge to take the girl with her.

“keep her safe for me?” lagertha asks, motioning to the doll, and (y/n) nods furiously.

“i will”.

“forever?”.

“forever” (y/n) says, squealing when lagertha tickled at her sides before setting her down.

“go on” lagertha says, watching with a fond grin as (y/n) gives her a wave before running up to aslaug.

“may i go play?” (y/n) asks looking up at aslaug with those pleading doe like eyes, and aslaug smiles, patting at the girls head gently.

“of course you can, but stay close by!” aslaug says, shouting at the girl who was already running full speed through the town of kattegat, hvitserk laughing and nodding to his mother.

“i’ll go with her”.

the women smile at the children, but it quickly fades once they’re out of sight.

“she loves you” aslaug says, gaining lagertha’s attention, quirking her brows at the woman in front of her.

“she’d do anything for you. she talks about you all the time. she truly admires you” aslaug continues, walking closer.

“there is nothing in this world that i want other than for my children to be happy. and you make her happy.......pass by whenever you want”.

lagertha stares at the woman in shock, but quickly hides it under a small smile.

“thank you, queen aslaug”. and though there is malice in the way lagertha says this, she can’t help but genuniely be happy to be able to see the little girl whenever she wanted.

“one day i’ll be gone, and she’ll need someone other than her brothers, i expect you to be there for her?”.

“of course”.

“good. and if i can’t, i want you to be there for her whenever she is hurting” aslaug says, giving lagertha a nod before turnign and heading back for the hall.

but lagertha is confused.

“why would she be hurting?”.

aslaug pauses, looking over her shoulder at the blonde shieldmaiden

“she doesn’t know that i am not her real mother, or that my sons are not her brothers. she doesn’t know that we share blood. and i don’t want her knowing for a long time. but when that day comes i don’t know how she’ll react, she may hate me, curse me, leave me, but at least she can confide in someone like you if she does react that way”.

lagertha nods, understanding now.

“thank you, aslaug”.

“no, thank you”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(y/n) opens her eyes slowly, squinting under the bright light of the sun that was peeking through the flap of her tent.

she groans softly, turning over on her stomach and hiding her face in her hands.

she looks between her fingers and finds a leg in her vision.

she sits up, and finds halfdan, in the most uncomfortable position by her bed in a chair, his head resting on his shoulder, mouth open.

he hadn’t left her, he had stayed all night

(y/n) can’t help but feel guilt overcoming her, her eyes squeezing shut at the ache that fills her heart.

she stands from the bed and walks over to the corner of her tent, quietly and quickly dressing before halfdan woke.

she sighs as she fastens her belt to her waist, another day, another battle, more killing.......

she shakes her head of those thoughts, she needs to keep moving, otherwise she knows she will fall ill of thoughts she’d never dare to think.

she laughs quietly to herself, how weak could she be?.

she reaches for the flap of the tent, looking at halfdan over her shoulder one last time.

“thank you” she whispers, before finally exiting her tent.

she inhales the cold morning air, and gives a gentle smile at her brothers who are huddled together by a fire, floki not far.

hvitserk notices her first, and raises his mug of ale to her, smiling under his hood.

“there is the great viking warrior!” hvitserk shouts, making his brothers turn and look towards the young girl.

chuckling to herself, she takes a seat beside ivar, just across from bjorn, and smiles thankfully to loki who handed her a warm mug of water, knowing she hated ale.

she settles in her seat, smiling at ivar when he adjusts himself closer to her, wrapping her up in the fur he was wearing, sharing it with her.

“it seems to me that the saxons are as timid as frightened women. their hearts are faint. i don’t think they can truly trouble us” ivar says, sipping at his ale, chuckling when (y/n) wrinkles her nose at the smell.

“you don’t know enough, ivar. you haven’t seen enough. these are brave men. i’ve fought against them, you haven’t” bjorn says almost cockily. and this makes (y/n) frown deeply, her eyes looking to bjorn with confusion.

what had suddenly gotten into him?.

“i can only see what my eyes tell me, bjorn. and what i see is frightened people running before us. i see their spineless god running away from our gods” ivar says, laughing teasingly, and shakes his head, offering up ivar more ale.

“for once, why don’t you listen to an older wiser brother? these people who are running away, they’re not warriors. they are not the ones who will stay and fight to defend this kingdom” ubbe says, now looking towards (Y/n).

“will you tell him? maybe he’ll listen to you”.

she’s silent for a moment, and her brothers turn in shock to see her actually agreeing with ivar, seeing her acting cold towards the idea of the english people just trying to protect themselves.

but, she speaks.

“most of them are like frightened women, i agree with ivar on that, but, the others, like the women, or the common man, they’re only trying to protect what they have, such as their homes, their children, their lives. they fear death”.

ubbe and hvitserk share a look before turning their heads towards sigurd who just started speaking.

“and protect their honor. for what is a warrior without his honor?” says sigurd, to which ivar rolls his eyes and smirks towards his brother.

“i don’t know, you tell me, brother. and, tell me again, how many battles have you fought?”.

ivar always had something to say.

sigurd’s expression towards ivar is full of annoyance and irritation, it almost makes (y/n) laugh, the both of them reminding her of children.

“same as you, brother, except i don’t ride around in a comfortable bloody chariot!” sigurd exclaims, throwing down his knife and edging closer to ivar.

“that is enough, now” (y/n) says, standing and gripping sigurds wrist, looking him in the eye with a raised brow, silently telling him to back off.

he sighs and wretches himself out of her grip, moving farther away from ivar.

“what you have to learn, ivar, is that if you break up this brotherhood, we shall not succeed. we have many challenges ahead of us. so, if you want to keep arguing and whining like a little girl, then i suggest you leave. we don’t need you”.

(y/n) stares at bjorn with widening eyes. how dare he say that? how dare he talk like that to his young brother?.

anger fills (Y/n)’s body, and she feels her jaw tightening and grinding with rage.

no one talks to ivar that way, no one.

but it doesn’t faze ivar, he simply smiles and replies.

“oh, but you do need me. why do you think father chose me to come with him to england? he had a reason for doing so. he told me i was the one who would act for him, who would make sure he was revenged” ivar says snarkely, eyeing bjorn with distaste a confidence.

bjorn reaches low and picks up the severed head of a deer, placing it over his face as he playfully spoke next.

“ if that’s what you want to think, then think it”.

everyone chuckles, all but floki, ivar and (y/n), they just stare with stone expressions.

ivar leans forwards, pointing his finger at bjorn.

“ i understand it must be hard for you to accept the true heir to the great ragnar lothbrok should turn out to be a cripple and a reject”.

ivars words cause ubbe to spit his drink out and look to ivar with complete surprise and amusement, and everyone is stunned silent.

and though (y/n) is happy ivar got to speak his true words. she couldn’t deny that it hurt her heart to hear him say that.

the true heir.......which she knew she wasn’t. it unsettles her, but she stays silent, knowing it was the best thing to do.

floki suddenly snickers, standing and looking to the lothbrok children with sadness.

“so this is what the grunting of the little pigs was all about!” he says, his eyes lingering on (Y/n) for just a moment longer before leaving the campsite, heading off to his own tent with helga and tanaruz.

(Y/n) thinks about his words for a moment, and remembers what her brothers told her days after ragnar had died.

how the little piggies will grunt, when they hear how the old boar suffered.

she was told by odin himself, face to face, even in his arms about her fathers death, and no such saying was said to her.

how? why? why had hers brothers heard-

oh.

she wasn’t blood. maybe that was why. she wasn’t an heir of ragnar, not even a relation, to him or her mother, or her brothers.

she feels ill.

“(y/n)?”.

she looks up and sees ubbe looking at her with concern.

“are you alright? you look pale-”.

“i’m fine. i need to walk for a bit” she says, turning away and walking in the direction of the shoreline, her brothers all looking towards one another in question.

“who wants to talk with her?”.

@darkwhisperswolf@youbloodymadgenius@blonddnamedhandz@thelastemzy@annekleyn @inforapound @supermassiveblackhope @captstefanbrandt @roonil-wxzlib @alostsoulinhumanity @syreni-dea

#ivar's heathen army #ivar the boneless #bjorn #ubbe #hvitserk #sigurd #halfdan #floki #vikings #vikings fanfiction #vikings imagine #vikings x lothbrok!reader #vikings x reader #fluff #writing

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darksiderscreations · 5 years ago

Text

Hello everyone!!! I hope you all had happy holidays filled with joy 😊❤️

As I promised, I have some comfort scenarios! I will have another come out as well. Leave a comment below if you wanna see other characters included!

Imagine the horseman trying their best to help when you are sick.

Death: Though Death wasn’t the most emotional horseman, he did care a lot for you. What he lacked in speech appeared in actions.

When he learned of your illness, he didn’t stop asking questions.

“When did you get sick?”, “Why didn’t you summon me?”, “You could be getting worse!”, “Are you taking necessary steps to cure your ailments?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, although a rusty and broken one due to your current health. You’ve never heard Death sound so motherly before. If anything, it was flattering.

“Death, I’m fine. Really. I survived the apocalypse, I can survive this.” You give a faint chuckle, to the best of your ability.

Looking up, you notice that Death isn’t very amused. His amber eyes scanned your small form, curled on your couch and covered in blankets and used tissues of all sorts.

“You don’t look fine.” He simply states, crossing his arms.

You give another laugh, this time whole hearted,”Death I miss your sassiness sometimes.” With a big smile, you look up at him before kneeling over yourself suddenly and coughing profusely. As Death approaches, you hold out a hand to stop the horseman.

I’m between coughs, you utter,”Death—“ another cough,”stop....I’m fine, I don’t want to get you sick—“ you give a few more deep coughs before groaning and leaning backwards on your couch, feeling helpless.

The horseman gives a deep, whole hearted chuckle, a sound that you’ve come to love. It made your heart happy. He comes closer to you again,”You forget who I am. Come, let me help you.”

After taking a few moments to breathe, you tilt your head up to look at him and give a fatigued smile,”Oh yeah. I guess I sometimes forget you’re not human since the apocalypse is over.”

The horseman gently lies a hand behind your back, helping you to sit up.

You shake your head light heartedly,”I really am fine Death. But, since I know you’re stubbornness... you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.” You glance up at him again,”Besides, I would love the company.”

The horseman grunts,”Well that’s good, because I wasn’t really planning on leaving anyway.

You smile at his comment, patting the spot beside you on the couch. Death makes his way over.

Though he didn’t quite know everything to do, seeing as how he deals with the passing of humans rather than the health of them, he wanted to remain at your side. He sat in thought of things that could potentially help you...perhaps Vulgrim would know. He can investigate once you’re asleep.

At the very least, he provided emotional support, helping you stand when you needed, grabbing something for you to drink during a coughing fit, and simply being someone to talk to.

Having lots of tea packets around your home, and being a tea lover himself, Death brought several cups to you throughout the day. It surprised you how motherly he could be, then again, he was the eldest of the four.

Though you felt bad for taking his time, his company was much enjoyed. It almost felt like the old times, when the two of you were traveling across many worlds during the apocalypse. You enjoyed his company, and he enjoyed yours too.

You realized the day went much quicker with the horseman by your side. You ended up gently falling asleep listening to one of Death’s many stories of his travels.

After a few moments of receiving no response, Death realized you had fallen asleep. Blanket covering you from toe to chin and curled up against the horseman’s large frame, you slept peacefully. He let out a deep chuckle, and gave your hair a gentle stroke.

“Sleep well, (Y/N).”

War: The horseman had come to visit you as usual, however when you didn’t answer, he found his own way in...

He forced his way through your front door. He didn’t completely break it...just...broke the hinges. At least he put it back? You couldn’t be angry at him once he explained himself, you knew he was protective.

The loud sound had startled you awake, though you felt too ill to force yourself out of bed.

“(Y/N)?” War called out, voice lined with a hint of worry. He found his way to your room when he heard a small reply, and upon seeing you curled in bed, relief washed over the horseman.

“You didn’t answer me this time,”the horseman replies deeply.

“Hey big guy,” you replied,”sorry, I haven’t been feeling too well.” You force yourself to sit up to at least have a proper conversation with him.

“You are ill?” He questions, looking you up and down. He notices how your eyes are less lively than usual, and now that he’s paying attention, your voice gives off immense fatigue as well.

Still, you find a way to smile. “I’ll be okay big guy, just give me a few days and I’ll be feeling better.”

War doesn’t seem to like this response, giving off a deep hum.

“I would like to stay with you.”

You heave a sigh,”War that’s not needed, I promise I’m fine...” a small groan escapes your lips and you have to lie back down, hoping to be rid of your lightheadedness.

“(Y/N), what is wrong?” The behemoth of a horseman rushes to your side,“Do you need any assistance?”

After a few moments, your spell wears off, and you look up wearily,”I’ll be okay. Just got a little faint, that’s all.” You smile weakly at the horseman, who encases your small hand in his large gauntlet. He lies his other large hand on your forehead.

“You are very warm. You shouldn’t be alone.” You offer a light laugh.

“War, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need you to watch over me.”

He shakes his head,”Your current state suggests otherwise.”

He looks at you and you give a slow nod,”Alright. I don’t want to worry you any further.”

The horseman nods,”Now, are you taking the necessary remedies you need? Do I need to summon Death?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head,”No, please don’t summon Death.” You laugh gently,”I’m taking everything I need to. My only downside is that I can’t always get up and walk when I need to, but otherwise, I just need time to heal.” The horseman nods.

“Then I will be your crutch.” He looked so sincerely into your eyes, gauntlet still encased over your hand. It warmed your heart, and brought a weak, albeit large smile to your face.

“Thanks big guy.” A few moments go by before your curiosity gets to you,”Say, what was that loud sound earlier?” You ask this with hope that nothing had been broken.

“Well...I was letting myself in. The door was in the way and since you couldn’t get up to answer...”

A groan escapes your lips and you lean backwards,”I can fix it later.”

........

War, odd enough, was the perfect caretaker. The behemoth you had always known was acting as a sweet giant.

He ensured you always had water by your side, and plenty of tissues. Any time you needed assistance he was right there, especially if you couldn’t walk. He really was the perfect crutch.

Some of your favorite moments were getting the chance to show him the human sides of things. You would show him different books and such, but what always enamored him most were tv shows.

“Why is the human deciding to—“

“Shhhh. All your questions will be answered soon. Just watch.” You would wait for his reactions excitedly.

At the end of these days, you would curl in his lap with a cozy blanket while watching the show. The large horseman was the perfect pillow, after all. He would look down at you, content to be watching over you.

You’d often doze off like this, arms curled around his large ones.

This amused the horseman to no end. With a deep chuckle, he wrapped you up in his arms, and carried you off to your bed. Lying you gently down and covering you in your warm cover, he sat on the floor beside you, head leaned against yours.

“Goodnight little one. Get well.”

Fury: The horseman knew something was wrong when she met up with you.

“Alright, spit it out. What’s wrong with you?” You stared baffled at the horseman.

“Whatever do you mean? I’m fine, ready to explore with you!” Just as you say this, you let out a large sneeze.

As you go to blow your little nose, Fury let’s out a hearty laugh. “(Y/N), I just watched you blow half of your head out into your tissue. Clearly you aren’t feeling well.”

“No,” you protest quickly,”Really, I’m okay, I want to go on this exploration with you.”

The horseman lets out a sigh. “Come here. Let me have a look at you.” She watches closely as you walk over, inch by inch. When you reach her, she gives you a good look over, and lies an un-armored hand in your cheeks and forehead.

“You feel hot to the touch, and your moments aren’t as chipper as usual. Try as you may to hide it from me, you are ill. We will turn back.”

You heave a sigh, knowing there’s nothing you can do once Fury’s mind is made up.

.........

The horseman travels back with you to your home, making sure you are safe. She didn’t know anything about human sickness really...Death would probably be more suitable. But she didn’t want to deal with her brother at the moment.

You lie down on the couch, Layering comfortable pillows underneath you miserably.

“Alright Fury, you got me. You were right. It’s probably smart that I didn’t go with you...” You heave a few deep coughs, reaching for some tissues to blow your nose profusely.

The horseman offers a nod,”Well of course I was right.” She offers a small laugh,”We can always go on our adventure another time. For now, you need to get better.”

You offer her a smirk,”Fury, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so caring.”

The horseman offers a smirk back,”Careful, (Y/N).” She laughs, walking over to you and handing you a glass of water,”Besides, how could I let my favorite companion suffer?”

You smile your thanks, taking the water to sip on. You almost spit it out in a fit of small laughter hearing Fury’s comment,”I better not catch you telling that to my siblings.”

Fury makes her way to your side, sitting on the ground beside you.

“Fury, I appreciate your company...but you don’t have to stay with me, you know.”

The horseman looks at you sternly,”(Y/N), you know you can’t get rid of me. Besides, you’re acting fine but I can tell you’re miserable. I’ll remain here to watch over you, and make sure you’re comfortable.”

You shake your head with a smile,”Fair enough.”

...........

Though you felt bad about taking her time, you loved having Fury by your side. It was just like the two of you had never turned back from your adventure, as you both enjoyed each other’s company. You spent the day explaining different human phenomenons to her. The baffled looks she would give you were the perfect entertainment.

Fury may not know a lot about human caretaking, but she did her best through little things she did for you. To your surprise, she wouldn’t let you get up to do anything really but go to bed. Anytime you even flinched, she would give you the infamous glare, asking you to stay in your place, and asking what you needed.

You would often have her join you on the couch, mainly because you enjoyed her by your side but...also so you could use her shoulder as a pillow. This amused Fury, she didn’t mind, as she just wanted you comfortable.

“Fury?” You’d question, beginning to doze off.

The horseman hummed in reply.

“Thank you,” you would mutter, before fluttering your eyes closed, still using her shoulder as comfort.

Fury laughed softly in reply, stroking your hair gently,”Anytime, little companion. Anytime.”

Strife: Once the horseman had found out you were sick, there was no stopping him from doing everything in his power to help.

“Strife—“

“Nope I don’t wanna hear it (Y/N).” The horseman interrupted you.

“I’m going to watch over you until you feel better. And nothing will change my mind.” The horseman crosses his arms, looking down at you.

You heave a sigh and give in to the horseman. “Alright Strife, but you’re gonna be forced to watch sappy movies and dumb tv shows with me!” You offer a smirk.

Strife looked you dead in the eyes through his mask and utters,”Bring it on.”

...

Having Strife as a companion/caretaker wasn’t too bad. Besides, you always enjoyed hanging out with the horseman.

He was very caring while watching over you, and catered to your every need in a flash. You needed water? He brought you a cup. Medicine? He brought it to you. There were a few times where he didn’t even let you walk—he would carry you in his arms. It was completely ridiculous, but you found the gesture sweet nonetheless.

The first day he realized you were sick, Strife left you, promising to be back soon. Not too much later, you witnessed the horseman carrying arm loads of tissues, medicines, herbal teas, stuffed animals and other things into your home.

“I heard a lot of this stuff is good for when you’re sick, so I brought as much of it as I could!!” The horseman walks over, holding a plush horse in front of your face,”It looks like Mayhem!! How could that not make you feel better?!”

You can’t help but laugh at the sight. Taking the plush horse, you look up at Strife,”You’re right. It’s adorable, thank you.” You stare at the pile of countless tissue boxes and different medications,”Strife...not that I’m unappreciative, but I don’t think I’m going to need all of that...” You shake your head, amused at the horseman’s efforts.

Though he was the rider who was most familiar with human culture, he still had a lot to learn.Still, you were grateful for his concern.

The horseman looks at the pile himself,”Okay...I may have gone overboard. But at least you’re prepared for anything!” He looks in your direction,”I just want you to start feeling better as soon as possible.”

His comment warmed your heart. “Thank you Strife. With you here, I’m sure I’ll feel better in no time.” You grab the television remote,”You know what time it is?”

The horseman offers a chuckle and joins you on your sofa,”Oh yeah.”

....

Strife was the perfect companion to chat with, considering he had surrounded himself with human culture before. He found interest in many human phenomena, and it was fun to explain things to him—somehow he always had the wrong idea of what something was. It amused you to no end.

One of your favorite moments was when he asked you to show him a soap opera, claiming the humans in Eden would talk about them a lot.

Needless to say, he enjoyed them a little too much, and you had to listen to him screaming at the television, repeatedly asking ‘why?’

Strife was also the perfect cuddle buddy. On nights where your illness would keep you awake, you found comfort in his embrace.

You would jolt up in a fit of coughing or pain, and Strife would rub your back, helping to calm you down.

“You alright kiddo?” He would ask, concern lining his voice. All you could do is groan in reply, though his presence soothed you, at least a little bit.

“Come here,” he’d call, opening his arms. You would crawl close to him, burying your face in his chest. He would wrap his arms around you, acting as the perfect safety blanket.

“Try to get some sleep, and I’ll be right here with you if you need anything.” His voice, gentle and low, made you feel a sense of relaxation.

“Thank you, Strife...” you would utter, closing your eyes in the comfort of his embrace. You would fall asleep to his soothing voice as he told tales from his adventures.

“Rest easy, (Y/N).” Your resting figure is all Strife needed to see to put him at ease. “Get well soon.”

#darksiders #war #fury #strife #death #darksiders2 #darksiders3 #sickness #bleh #comfortscenario #cute

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ike-sol · 5 years ago

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Red Wine - Scarlet Moonlit Night - Saint Germain x MC

Was anyone else lowkey disappointed with the Scarlet Moonlit Night event we had in IkeVamp a while back? The ideas were cool but imo it was poorly executed. I really liked that they took a more horror-y spin on it though! I dunno about you guys, but I wish we had more classic horror in this vampire dating game. Anyway, I took my favourite story (Comte's!) and did a rewrite to add more background + suspense, please enjoy and be mindful of the content warnings!

And go ahead and listen to "Transylvanian Lullaby" by Erutan while you read to give it that great ambiance!

Pairing: Le Comte x Reader (lowkey) Genre: horror, slight romance. But this really isn't supposed to be a romantic story. Also, AU without all the minor vampires, just Comte. Content warnings: implied non-consensual biting, implied stalking/kidnapping, gaslighting, implied vampiric mind control, non-consensual blood consumption Reader pronouns: she/her Word count: 2,202

Your name: submit What is this?

(psst! read this story on a browser (not the app!) to insert your own name!)

Y/N woke up in an unfamiliar bed, light-headed and groggy and incredibly thirsty. A surge of panic - but as she sat up and realised she was still dressed in her gown, a little disheveled perhaps, but with nothing out of place, she relaxed.

Still, how had she gotten here? The room, extravagant as it was, was completely foreign, and a strange sense of unease began to eat at the periphery of her soul.

It was the middle of the night, it seemed. She’d been asleep. The curtains were drawn, though a sliver of moonlight sneaked through a little opening. A fraction of the room awash in an eerie silver glow, and the rest - consumed by darkness.

Y/N stood, but the moment she got to her feet, her head spun and spots of black appeared before her eyes, a darkness completely unlike the natural one of the night. One, two, three, she counted in her mind as she tried to steady herself, leaning against the bedpost for support, and the illness slowly disappeared and she could breathe once again.

Had a fainting spell brought her here in the first place? One stronger than this one?

But she was fine now, even if a little groggy and light-headed. Her neck itched, for some reason, and she reached up to absentmindedly scratch the little bug bites at her pulse.

Y/N was a little surprised, and wholly relieved to find the door wasn’t locked, and opened with ease. She stepped out into the grand hallway, dark and quiet. There were no candles burning, and with the windows facing away from the moon, there was absolutely nothing to light her way. Still, her eyes were well accustomed to the dark at this point.

In the quiet of the manor, she was certain she could leave and find her way back home.

The mansion seemed to go on forever, turns and corners in every hallway, and dozens of doors lining each wall that surely must lead somewhere. Whatever this place, who could possibly have use for so many rooms?

When she turned the next corner, she saw a lone figure at the end of the hallway, and she froze. Friend or captor? Did she dare go up to him for help? The soft sound of his footsteps as he came her way kept her rooted in place - a figure of gold in the otherwise silver darkness.

His eyes widened with surprise, but then he smiled warmly at her. “Are you alright, ma chérie?”

There was something about his eyes that made it hard for her to tear her gaze away. A golden pool of honey, sticky and sweet. A smile so gentle, so warm and endearing, that it melted the fear that froze her to the ground. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. And as she sighed in relief, the tension left her body, and suddenly the horror and confusion she’d felt seemed like nothing more than a distant dream.

“Um, I woke up in a bedroom, I’m not sure how I got here… I’m looking for a way out.”

“I see. Then, you don’t remember what happened?”

“Um…”

She closed her eyes, trying desperately to remember the events that brought her here, but try as she may, nothing came back. Yesterday… hadn’t it been a normal day? She’d run some errands in the morning, and ate lunch with her family… and then what?

“Don’t fret. Lapses in memory occasionally accompany fainting spells. Why don’t we get something to drink, and I’ll fill you in.”

She licked her lips - her throat was dry, painfully so, and a drink would surely ease the ever growing discomfort. Now that he’d mentioned it, the urge grew ever stronger, and she could hardly think of anything else.

“That sounds good.” Y/N agreed.

There was something about him that made her trust him, and when he, a perfect gentleman, offered her his arm, she took it with no hesitation and followed him down the array of halls.

“It’s dark,” he explained, “So please be careful, Y/N. You might still be feeling a little unwell after yesterday…”

“Oh, thank you.”

As he led her through the manor, he spoke in voice made of the night itself, calm and gentle. “I am le Comte de Saint-Germain, the master of this manor. I held a ball last night, and you were in attendance. Do you remember?”

“I’m sorry…” She shook her head, abashed. How had she forgotten that? To be invited to a ball, much less one at as an impressive manor as this! It must have been grand, and more importantly, a once in a lifetime opportunity for someone as common as Y/N. Whereas balls were an everyday occurence for the aristocrats, she’d never attended one before. And now she feared she might never experience it again...

“It’s alright. You felt unwell quite early into the night, and fainted after one of the dances. So I brought you up to a bedroom in which you could rest.”

“I… I see. Thank you.”

That was simple enough, an explanation with which Y/N was happy. There was an itch somewhere deep inside of her, a whisper that she’d never met this man before, that she’d never told him her name, but le Comte’s sense of calm quieted down those thoughts. It was just a memory lapse. Besides, she trusted him, and she trusted his word.

Finally, he brought her down to the dining room, illuminated by candlelight. “Take a seat. I’ll bring you something to drink from the kitchen, but you needn’t tire yourself further.”

She nodded and sat down at one end of the table, watching the man until he disappeared through another door out of sight. She was alone once again. Selfishly, she prayed he’d return soon, with something - anything - to quench the awful thirst.

Idly, Y/N looked around. The dining hall was large, certainly fit for grand parties and beautiful guests. Already she could imagine women in extravagant gowns of all colors, their skirts billowing as they danced with handsome men in suits. Chatter, laughter, appetizers… She could imagine it all, save for herself in that scene. At least, the dining hall brought back no memories of yesterday.

The room, and every other part of the manor she’d seen, was spotless to the point of perfection. The servants must have cleaned the house immediately after the ball, because there was no sign of a party having taken place here at all.

Several portraits hung on the wall, each depicting a gorgeous individual. Intrigued, Y/N stood and came over to them to take a closer look. A beautiful woman in an extravagant hat, a man smoking a cigar with a lazy smile… Oh! There was one of le Comte, too!

“Lovely, aren’t they?”

His silken voice took her by surprise, but she smiled and turned back at him, only a little sheepishly, feeling almost as though she were a child caught snooping.

“It’s really captured your likeness. It’s a very handsome portrait.”

“You flatter me.” He smiled, and handed her one of the wine glasses he was holding. “Here, drink. You’ll feel stronger.”

“Thank you.” She took the glass from him gratefully, admiring the deep red of the wine. Like rubies. Darker.

Their fingers brushed against each other when she received the glass, and she noted, for the first time, just how cold she felt. His fingers were even colder. The only warmth in the room, it seemed, came from the candlelight, dancing like figures to an unheard waltz. Still, it did not reach her bones, and Y/N shivered.

She drank from the glass and all but sighed at its taste. It coated her tongue and soothed her parched throat and filled her with a warmth she could not name. But there it finally was - warmth. Never before had she tasted a wine so delicious. Perhaps it was just a placebo, but already her mind began to clear and her head stopped throbbing. She felt stronger. More awake.

She realised that, in her thirst, she’d drank most of her wine already while le Comte was still politely sipping at his. A little embarrassed, she turned her interest back to the portraits, not wishing for him to see the blush growing on her cheeks. She needed her strength, she told herself, and surely le Comte did not mind.

“Are these your family?”

They were beautiful, really. Each face handsomely sculpted, with pale skin and gleaming eyes. Jewellery and expensive attire. The background dark, but seemingly illuminated by the same glow of candlelight in which they now stood. Flickering, almost.

“Friends.” He explained. “I haven’t seen them in a long time, though. Admittedly, it’s been terribly lonely, living in this huge manor all on my own...”

She looked at the paintings over once again, admiring le Comte’s gentle smile in the portrait, so like the one she’d grown to admire in person. The whisper of a wave in his hair, his golden eyes…

And the date. The date written so neatly in the bottom right corner of the painting. One number that made her blood run cold.

August 19, 1712

Dated over a century back. She swallowed. Her mouth felt dry. Shakily, she raised her glass to ease the feeling of cotton in her throat, and noticed, for the first time, its consistency. Like honey. Or not quite. It coated the walls of the glass and oozed down slowly, almost unaffected by gravity. More black than red, really. And far, far too thick to be wine.

She raised her hand to her neck, to the subtle itch at her pulse.

“So, you’ve realised.”

It was not a question.

Y/N couldn’t tear her gaze away from the glass. It was still a quarter full, and the aching thirst deep within her was not yet sated. But now, it was accompanied by a bubbling disgust that burned in her stomach and scorched her throat.

How… how could she have swallowed it? Drank so much of it, too? She was human! What disgust! She wanted to recoil, to scream, to throw the glass at the wall and cut whatever threaded her to it. To go back. To erase the mistake.

The glass dropped from her hands and shattered at her feet. A red stain amongst the glittering shards. Defiance.

And yet - Y/N mourned. What a waste! Her throat cursed her, begged her to get down on all fours and lick it clean off the floor. Not let a single drop go to waste, or she would starve.

But she was frozen in place. Le Comte raised a hand to her cheek, and gently turned her head towards him.

“That’s alright. Be careful not to step on the glass- I’ll have it cleaned up later. Here.” A hand on her waist, he guided her gently, one, two, three steps away from the broken glass.

He was still wearing that smile of his, gentle and, even if tainted with a drop of sadness, not at all apologetic. His honey-like eyes drew her in. Sweet. Dangerous. He was a spider, and she was stuck too tightly to his web. She could not move. She could not scream. She could do nothing but watch as he drew closer, until his lips brushed against her ear and he spoke in voice as sweet as his eyes.

“Don’t be afraid, I’ll take care of you. We’re the same, now. I’ve been so lonely, but now you’re here.”

His lips pressed gently against her neck, a kiss at the same place where he’d bitten her mere hours ago. An apology, perhaps. Or a promise of what was to come.

A plea: don’t be afraid of me.

He pulled away and smiled at her. Raised his glass to his lips in an elegant sip. The blood coated the curve of his lips and the sudden shock of red somehow… matched. It smudged at the corner of his mouth, and he raised a finger to wipe it off and licked it clean.

His glass was still half full. He brought it up to Y/N’s lips and held it there.

“Drink,” he whispered. “You’ll feel better.”

She could not find it in her to refuse. Her lips parted as if on their own, though she tried to fight it. The disgust shrank and then faded and then disappeared entirely the more she drank. If she didn’t think too hard… she could pretend it really was wine.

He took the glass from her when the last drop was gone, and set it aside on the table. He cupped her cheek once more, and as she looked into his golden eyes, the fear she felt faded away like the morning fog. And she placed her hand atop of his, still at her cheek, and leaned into his touch.

Her mind was finally quiet. The hunger and thirst gone, and with it - her fear. She sighed out and relaxed into his touch, finding a strange sense of acceptance with the count. It was not just calm, but - euphoric, even.

She was sated.

For now.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire comte #le comte de saint germain #ikevamp #im reposting this bc the first one didn't show up in the tags ugh #also to reiterate #i dont condone this behaviour #this is supposed to be a creepy fic #gothic horror romance

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autisticstarseed · 5 years ago

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👐 Hand washing guide when you have sensory issues 👐

tbh. we shouldve been talking abt this a long time ago for many disabled ppls sake but ive put this post off for like a million years out of pure solidified fear of ableist harassment/kneejerk ignorance and also generalized cringe idiots but now that we got so much covid-19 fear and autistic ppl actually tend to have weaker immune systems than most people lets jump the shark;;;

i have autism and i physically struggle with washing my hands as often as i want to, having wet hands, drying them, the temperature difference, bad soap smells/textures, etc. are all genuinely painful. the good news is that ive dealt with water aversion shit since birth (its a common sensory issue), so ive had time to figure out alternatives and coping skills that still help reduce risk of disease and spreading it in ways that i can personally manage. (ie. not lazy or selfish or gross. genuinely putting more effort into this every day task than most other people would even think about. just disability lads) so heres the guide i have to offer if you’re in a similar boat, with some keypoints about hand hygiene and tips addressing the most common sensory struggles ive noticed with it;;;

1. hand sanitizer

i love hand sanitizer, i can get it in almost any scent i want and it dries down very very fast. the problem is; hand washing and hand sanitizer do different things. it only kills certain types of germs. which is all fine and dandy, but because of this, using only hand sanitizer wont actually keep you from catching or spreading many illnesses. so what its good for is times you cant wash your hands (out in public, sensory overload, no spoons, etc), thats fine, but it should not replace all hand washing if at all possible. it is supposedly effective to covid-19, but so little is currently known that it should not be considered your go to for this, and the only unanimous statement straight from the CDC is that hand washing works best at preventing its spread.

temperature - if you have trouble with it being too cold, conveniently keeping it in your pocket or closely against your body in some way warms it up and makes it much more comfortable.

scent - they come in almost any scent you can imagine, but if you have trouble with strong scents, there are ‘scentless hand sanitizers’. they usually have a faint chemical smell, so if there are any testers available, you should check to make sure it can work for you before you buy it.

texture - if gel doesnt cut it, they also make foamy hand sanitizers and liquid sprays, but theyre harder to find and might be a little more pricey.

and remember; always buy hand sanitizer that says it contains AT LEAST 60% alcohol, the higher alcohol content the better, but try to keep track of how high it is and how much you apply it so you dont dry your skin out. and right now price gouging is pretty bad, so dont be surprised if you cant find any for a while, and dont buy any small bottle that costs over a couple dollars, its a rip off.

2. hand washing

so what does hand washing do thats better than sanitizer??? soap and water lift up the dirt and oils that are carrying the germs and actually wash them off, and not only that, it also gets rid of all the things sanitizer cant, such as dust/dirt, spores, chemicals, and the previously mentioned viruses that are harder to kill. ik to an outside perspective it might not seem that hard, but obviously when you have autism and these tasks are split down into bigger ordeals and sensory nightmares, it can feel impossible.

soap - there are so many different kinds of soap! scentless soaps exist, and they very rarely have any lingering chemical smell! theres also soap for sensitive skin, and baby soap also works well for that issue. bar soaps can come in all different shapes and sizes, with many different ingredients and additives to choose from (independent soap makers are an amazing source for customized soap btw), and liquid soaps can be pure gel, frothy, mousse-y or even have tiny exfoliating or moisturizing beads in them if thats a sensory experience you enjoy. this is my number one rec for people struggling with hand washing bc of sensory issues;;; mix up the soap. finding one that gives you an okay or even a GOOD sensory experience can completely turn around an otherwise meltdown inducing task

temperature - this is the one thats always been hardest for me. cold water straight up hurts me, and our plumbing is Terrible, so the trick i have for slow pipes is to run the hot water on high as Soon as i get into the bathroom. leave it going and by the time you’re done there should be at least lukewarm water. if this still takes too long for you, try out the various sinks in your house, usually one is able to get hot water faster than the rest (for me its the kitchen sink) and that can become a designated station for you if need be.

texture - some ppl just hate water. if thats the case, it rly doesnt change much abt the process if you use less water, ie work the soap into a lather, and then only use as much as you need to rinse it off. you dont have to keep your hands under the whole time, the soap clings to the dirt, the water takes it off all together, as long as you scrub well and rinse till you see no suds, you’re good

If it really comes down to it, a washcloth with water+soap, a disinfecting wipe, or even literally just a rinse with plain ol water is better than nothing, but the stream of water and act of rubbing the soap in is the most effective combo against disease. soap/disinfectant wipes and hand sanitizers are your second best option. if theres a time in your life where an issue is so disabling for you that you truly cant keep any of this up, rly the most important thing is to limit your direct physical contact with your face and commonly used objects as MUCH as possible until you can figure smth out. (you kno those old ladies that grab a wipe and open the doorknob with it between their hand and the knob? become that old lady) and if push comes to shove, if a safe and accepting therapy setting is something accessible to you, hygiene struggles are actually something many mental health professionals understand Very well and can help you cope with personally and directly, without shame.

3. hand drying

this is also. my personal hell. and what most people say is the hardest part of the sensory experience. but ya cant just walk around with wet hands right

towels - the obvious choice for most, but to me they actually dont dry enough. i always end up damp and with lint stuck to me. this kills the man. but hand towels do have some variety to them, you can find em with really long fibers or really short/flat, really fuzzy or really stiff, etc. sounds silly but its smth a lot of ppl dont think about that can change a lot. you can also try super absorbent towels (yes like a shamwow), and again baby bath towels are also an option if you want something gentle.

paper towels - yeah a little more wasteful and expensive, but imo much more absorbent. theyre also pretty thin so you can get between your fingers (MY BANE), and under your nails if you use a corner. 10/10

blow drying - ik this is the kind of shit you only see in like movie theaters and malls and they are definitely LOUD AS SHIT, but if you happen to have the money, and struggle more with Textures than Noise, ie a stream of warm air seems worth the sound, you Can actually find a small basic one of these items for your own home.

4. public restrooms

everybody hates em!!! but you can make em more tolerable;;;

soap - bring your own! little travel soaps you can keep in your bag are a godsend for ppl with sensory issues, sensitive skin/allergies, and if you just prefer not sharing soap.

temperature - most public places i notice actually do get hot water pretty fast (like,,, too fast,,, like,,, it bur ns me) so if there are no faucets and its too hot or too cold, once again you can try different sinks and one might be more comfortable. if there are faucets i recommend grabbing a paper towel to turn it off, so you dont have to touch it again with your clean hands.

sound - WHY R AUTOMTIC FLUSH TOILETS SO FUCKEN LOUDD..... honestly if you have noise cancelling earmuffs or earplugs or w/e pop em in. if you dont have any of that i just literally plug my ears with my fingers when i stand up. if you struggle with the sound of the blow dryers, they almost always have paper towels as well, but its a great idea to carry something like that around in your bag with you just in case. if its really packed and people chattering is getting to you, sometimes the ‘family’ bathrooms are actually smaller and less full. if its bad enough and you feel comfortable asking, an employee might be able to direct you to a single stall bathroom or at least a different one than that.

and though its convenient, try not to use your sleeve to touch things like doorknobs, toilet handles, etc. instead use something disposable like a paper towel or wipe, bc the germs will simply transfer to your sleeve and still risk infecting you.

5. schedule

the number one suggestion is to wash your hands literally as often as possible during a time like this but like. even for allistic/nt/abled/ ppl thats just not always an attainable schedule so the Best times to wash your hands are;;;

after using the bathroom - the most important time and generally the easiest to get used to. its smth you have to do multiple times a day that already has a schedule, and if you were to forget or go into sensory overload its usually immediately accessible as soon as you can. as i mentioned earlier, if you need help remembering, you can turn the water on when you first get in and leave it going.

the doctors - ANY KIND of health facility should be avoided right now unless really necessary, places where sick people would frequent is the quickest way to get sick but like. ya rly cant help it sometimes right. you cant stop dealing with your own illnesses just bc theres another one floating around. so, this is time to go apeshit on the handwashing. if your health issue involves coughing and sneezing, ask for a face mask. bring a scarf in case they dont have any, its not as great but better than nothing. otherwise, you honestly dont need it, face masks are more for these people bc they keep germs in better than out. whether you’re worried abt getting sick or infecting others, this is a time to use hand sanitizer, avoid physical contact like shaking hands [autistic cheering], and when you first arrive and right before you go to leave are the most important times to remember to wash your hands.

preparing food - not as commonly spoken about, but also easy to work into a schedule. i personally dont care unless its food for somebody else or if im going to be putting my hands on it a lot, but if thats the case, a lot of the time thats produce you already want to wash in the sink, so you can kill two birds with one stone there. dont just get the germs off your own hands, get em off the fruits and veggies before you eat em. carpool

after grocery shopping - not very common. most ppl just slap some sanitizer/a wipe on there or dont think abt it at all, but if you just got home from walmart thats a great time to wash. you just touched a bunch of items other people touched, including the cart, money/credit cards, and all the products people will pick up and put back, so its prime germ time babey. But again, sanitizer or a wipe will help if its all you can manage after a trip out like that.

before self care - also uncommon. ppl always say ‘dont touch your face’ and ‘apply this product with clean hands’, and what they mean is that one of the fastest ways germs get into your system is through your mouth, nose, eyes and ears. if you’re simply washing your face theres not as much concern, but applying a mask, moisturizer, makeup, etc. should all be done after a gentle rinse of your hands (and face). very hard to get into the schedule of, but if you consider it a Part of your ‘self care’ or use a special fun cleanser, it can stick a little easier.

6. stim items

STIM ITEMS!! if you have stim items, its a good idea to clean them regularly, but even moreso during an outbreak like this.

rubber/plastic - if it goes in your mouth, hot water (not hot enough to melt!) and dish soap, if it doesnt, look up how to safely make a diluted bleach solution.

silicone - silicone is usually dish washer safe.

fabric - if its light, add bleach to the washing machine, if its colored, you can use white vinegar or hydrogen peroxide which are less likely to discolor any dyes. lysol detergent is also super great. small items you’re worried about losing, or items with details/loose parts, you can usually wash inside of a sealed pillow case.

‘squishies’ - for ‘mochi’ squishies aka the rubbery ones, soap and water + some dusted baby powder or corn starch (optional) to keep it from grabbing lint for a while. for foam squishies, they can rarely be deep cleaned without the risk of growing mold or taking paint off, but a disinfecting wipe every now and then should keep it clean for a while.

slime - cant be disinfected, sorry. also a breeding ground for mold if you arent careful, so its always best to cycle through these quickly.

technology - cant really be completely sterilized, but there are many places to get sprays and cleaning wipes for the devices you use that can at least keep the areas your hands frequently touch a little cleaner.

BUT of course if your item comes with instructions on how to wash it, always follow that instead. this is just a general idea.

and as a final note;;; disabled ppl should not feel guilty or dirty for struggling with this. like. man idc abt ur cringe feels or your ignorant blame or your lack of understanding/sympathy for what goes into these tasks for us. if u dont wanna get our struggles and sensitivities when we’re working twice as hard on functioning tasks which personal ease you take for granted, thats on you. @ disabled people if you struggle with maintaining the same standard of hygiene as nts you arent gross or bad fucking person, you’re disabled and by definition that means your level of functioning will be different, and you deserve sympathy. its just that germs dont discriminate, they wanna cause problems for everybody involved (especially you!!!), so Anything you can manage is Great and if anything from this post can help make it a little easier for people in any way, i feel its absolutely necessary to talk about with respect and dignity. people with autism/adhd/sensory processing disorder/similar neurodivergencies/literally anybody else this could benefit, pls feel free to add on any tips you might have or send me questions. let disabled ppl help disabled ppl do our personal bests

#nt/allistic ppl can totally reblog btw!! just dont clown like thats literally all i ask man cuz tbh #im trying to help ppl form a hygiene habit while my nd struggle was ignored and worsened by ppl being shitty to me so to be blunt ig #im helping people by giving alternatives and coping skills and all ur doing is being ableist and expecting ppl to 100% conform so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#whos really the ...~~~~~ pro recovery~~~~ one. here #hint its me sit down rude ass #long post #im scared to put in nd tags but sjgsjddsj we're JUMPIGN THE SHARK #sensory processing disorder #spd #autism #actuallyautistic #asd #adhd #sensory overload #original

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lfd072936 · 5 years ago

Text

Harlequin - Chapter 2

Word count: 2236

Summary: Arthur and Lola finally have a conversation. Can be read as a standalone.

Tagged: @tiredwritersworld and @trailerparkbarbiedoll

Chapter 1 link

Chapter 3 link

2. The Good Laugh

The week went by like quicksilver as most days proved to be eventful, but Lola truly felt like she got the hang of it after a few days. She mostly did what she liked the most about this job: socializing with patients, listening to their stories or anything they rambled about. For her it was like looking into an alternative version of reality through someone else’s eyes. She also adjusted herself well enough to the morning rush of the hospital, arriving a bit early so she spent her last couple of minutes before clocking in at the staff’s room calmly looking at Gotham’s dark, grimy morning by the window while sipping her morning tea. The room was packed around the shift change even making the corner she was at a noisy place to be. Some were having their breakfast, some were playing cards on the table and some were just talking or rather trying to out scream the other groups. It didn’t bother Lola though, noise was something prison teaches you to tolerate, but suddenly she heard her name.

- How did your first week go? – she had no idea what the guy’s name was or how did he know hers, but she gave him a faint smile nonetheless.

- It went well. They’re a bit different than what I’m used to, but generally nice.

- Nice? – someone else from that table chimed in. – I’m sorry, but you can’t think of them as nice… it will be the end of you.

- I’d be more than happy to learn that the hard way.

- That is so eastern of you, but you’re in the west wing now. You don’t know what you’re in for. These guys aren’t here on their free will, most hate this place and will make you want to hate it too.

- So far I’m good – she shrugged, making everyone in the room roll their eyes, but at least they left her alone after that. She quickly finished her tea just in case, to avoid any other conversations someone might strike up with her. Honestly she tried to make friends here, chit-chatting from time to time, smiling at everyone, but she was repulsed by most of the staff. By how proud they were of their omnipresent cruelty towards the patients.

Lola was assigned to the cafeteria, mostly to patrol and to maybe help to feed some patients who were unable to do it themselves. She had to admit that the people looked much harsher in this part of Arkham, but she still could not imagine herself not being her kindest self with them, even if that will be ‘the end of her’. While looking around her gaze suddenly was met with Arthur’s. They were in the same room from time to time during the past week, smiling or giving each other a small nod, but she just never had the courage to walk up to him for seemingly nothing and star talking. Now here they were, her leaned against the wall, him alone at a table with an unlit cigarette in his hand and some mushy oatmeal in front of him. He was just causally staring. She greeted him with an awkward wave and a smile. Even from afar she could see his lips trembling into a slight smile, but he wasn’t giving her any reaction other than that. She decided to concentrate on the other patients and putting the time of their first real interaction into fate’s hands. Arthur leaned back in his chair, fidgeting with his leg, watching all the workers around him doing their jobs. As soon as the closest one to him was Lola, with a slight movement of his hand he knocked his tray off of the table, making his sad breakfast of oatmeal and soggy fruit salad land on the floor. Each nurse and helper sighed in exhaustion at the same time. A string of awkward eye conversation ensued where everyone stared at all the others with a hurrying look. Of course Lola was encouraged the most to do something since she was the closest in vicinity. She rolled her eyes, but did as the majority pleased. She put down the jug of water she was carrying and headed to Arthur’s table. When she got next to him, he gave her a big-eyed look as if he was saying sorry, but Lola wasn’t taking it.

- Is everything alright? – she asked.

- Yes… why wouldn’t it? – he smiled at her innocently.

- You knocked down your plate on purpose – he didn’t answer for a while, so she just sighed and knelt down to pick up what she could salvage, but she could see him leaning closer to her. The fact that none of her colleagues were alarmed by his movement goes without saying.

- Maybe I wanted to see you from a little bit closer – he whispered. His voice paired with his oddly attractive smell of cigarettes sent chills down Lola’s back, but she just looked straight back at him and let out a small chuckle.

- You know I work here, right? You can ask me to come by anytime.

- Well… - he said, but his voice was raspy as if he was trying to hold back laughter. – I’m free this afternoon.

- I’ll make sure to give you a visit – he suddenly blurted out in an oddly nervous laughter but he got a hold of it fairly quickly. She pretended like nothing happened, this wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d seen here. – See you then. – she smiled at him and turned around.

- Wait! – he said when she was a couple of steps away. – What’s your name?

- I’m Lola.

- Hello, Lola… I’m Arthur – he raised his arm and after a moment she shook his hand.

- Hello, Arthur. I like that name – and just like that she was gone from the cafeteria.

- Lola – he whispered to himself, while lightning his much awaited cigarette.

Both of them felt like afternoon couldn’t come fast enough. Lola was always fascinated by the man she’d previously known as Joker. As outrageous and shocking as his actions were on TV, she felt oddly attracted to him. As she was banned by her mother to participate in the riots, she only ever saw the benefits of the movement he started. And of course being the edgy teenager she was, she sympathized with the tormented man on screen, who finally had enough courage to stand up against his biggest torturer, society itself. From the comfort of her living room he could be seen as the good guy, but definitely someone to feel sorry for… and she always had a soft spot for that. As for Arthur, not only did he think that Lola was the most attractive worker in here (or patient for that matter of fact), but also she was the only one remotely nice. He didn’t hold it against anyone that they acted cold towards him, it seemed to be a must here, but he really wished they wouldn’t.

- He doesn’t want to come out right now, he does that sometimes – a nurse, Ramon answered Lola’s question about Arthur’s whereabouts. – Damn, I will have to get him his meds after I finish this – he mumbled more to himself, but she put it together. What a smart man.

- I’ll do it, don’t worry – she said, while patting Ramon’s shoulder reassuringly.

- You sure?

- Of course… I got you, man.

Although she was strictly forbidden to touch any medicine, she had faced no barriers obtaining them. No one questioned her authority in the matter.

Arthur’s door wasn’t locked, which surprised Lola given the serious safety measures, but this was not her main concern at the moment. Ramon could have been a little absentminded or just didn’t care at all. Her stomach curled up as she held onto the door handle. She pulled the door open and leaned against the frame.

- Knock-knock. – Arthur sat by his desk scribbling in his notebook, but once he heard her voice he turned around on his chair to face her.

- Come in… - he gave her a slight smile.

- May I sit?

- Sure – he said, but as she got near he closed up his notebook.

- I brought you your meds – he took the pills from her and before she could hand him the plastic cup of water she brought he already swallowed them like a thousand times before.

- No need – he shook his head, but she put the cup down in front of him nonetheless, in case he wanted to hydrate his weary body.

- Open – she ordered him.

- You don’t trust me? – he teased back.

- Just do it… - she chuckled.

- Aaa – he finally complied, sticking his tongue out, showing her how he indeed swallowed the pills. She gave him a small nod, but her eyes wandered down to his weathered notebook.

- What are you writing?

- Um… - he instinctively shuffled the pages even closer to him. – That’s private.

- Oh, alright… sorry. – Arthur looked at her for a while. She was so pretty and nice… like Sophie. But Lola had to talk to her, she couldn’t ignore him she said it herself.

- It’s just my thoughts and some jokes, nothing serious. – he couldn’t really put his finger on why he suddenly donned his confident persona, that he more or less built up in here for his old, coyer one. It was almost like he couldn’t do otherwise under her prying gaze.

- Jokes? Could you tell me one? – his face lit up, but he squeezed the notebook even harder in his hand.

- Yeah, of course… - he said unsurely. It’s been awhile since anyone was interested in the contents of his journal, especially the jokes. The other patients respected and feared his reputation enough not to tease him about it and the nurses just didn’t give a shit. – Okay… - he flipped through the pages quickly, trying to hide the crude cut-outs and drawings, unsuccessfully. The sight made Lola smile a little, but she made sure to force a curious look on her face instead. – Here’s a good one: People are like trees… - he glanced at her in anticipation. - … they fall down when you hit them with an axe. – after a moment of silence Lola burst out laughing. She was fully prepared having to force out a convincing pity-laugh, but this dark cleverness caught her off guard, making her laugh for real. Smile spread on Arthur’s face upon seeing Lola’s reaction. – Do you want to hear another one?

- Yeah, absolutely – she said, while still chuckling.

- What’s the worst thing about having a mental illness?

- I don’t know.

- Of course you don’t - he mumbled. She laughed again. – Wait, that wasn’t the joke…

- It still was funny, Arthur – his smile widened.

- Thanks… - he took a theatrical deep breath and started again. – What’s the worst thing about having a mental illness?

- What?

- People expect you to behave as if you don’t – she didn’t find this one funny, but forced out a small laugh anyways, not too loud because she didn’t want to mislead him too much.

- It’s funny because it’s true… - she said. Arthur couldn’t hide his happiness that she liked his jokes. – Not in here though… Could you imagine how surprised the doctors would be if suddenly everyone started to act normal? They wouldn’t know what to do. – now it was his turn to laugh.

- They’d probably send everyone to shock therapy, just to be sure – Arthur said thinking to himself and it made Lola’s honest giggle return. She felt like Arthur had no idea how funny he can be when he’s just being himself.

Suddenly this idyllic harmony of them just looking at each other, trying to memorize every detail of the other’s smile was disturbed by one of Lola’s colleagues stepping into the room unannounced.

- We’re gonna need you on floor 6, Page – there was no way for him to know how unwanted his presence was at that moment. Lola just came in to give Fleck his pills. didn’t she?

- Sure – she stood up. – Thank you for this, Arthur, I really needed a good laugh. – and she was already out of the cell, locking the door behind her.

He wanted to tell her so many things, but he also didn’t want to scare her away, this girl who seemed so innocent and angelic. Maybe if they got to talk again he should ask her about her life. God, he’d hoped this was real… the meds worked for the most part, but just over a month ago he hallucinated his friend Gary to be in here with him. Took him a couple of days and multiple hour-long “conversations” with Gary to realize that it was all in his head. He could feel his laughter emerge, but not the good one like with Lola, it was the one that caused pain and discomfort and chased away so many people. Just not her, if she’s real please not her. At least his condition hadn’t come out in front of her yet. BANG. Arthur let his head fall against his metal desk, while still laughing uncontrollably. And then again, and then again.

#joker #arthur fleck #lola page #sort of oc #sort of harley quinn #joker fanfiction #arthur fleck fanfic #fanfic #arthur fleck x oc #arthur fleck fanfiction #joker fanfic #arthur fleck x harley quinn

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shooter-nobunagun · 4 years ago

Text

A Hunter’s Nightmare [Bloodborne AU]

//Gonna head into DLC territory before the ‘finale’ so to speak...

“So, yer really doin’ this?” A nod from both hunters, so steadfast the surgeon could only heave a sigh in resignation. “Well alright, should’ve known it’d come ta this...”

“Please Hunter, we could really use your help,” those large maroons fixed in a straightforward gaze, “and also...there’s nobody else I’d trust to ask at this point.”

One more glance, before Hunter nodded in agreement while Sio and Adam gave each other a small grin. Though he loathed taking any unnecessary risks, Hunter also knew sticking with them was his best chance for survival at this rate; especially with Mirza now proven to be dangerous, and it wasn’t as if he was particularly close with any of the other hunters—not even his old classmate Vidocq.

“So, where’re we off to then? And I take it nobody else’ll know ‘bout this?”

“Well, I mean is there a point? It’s not as if any of the other hunters really care about what we’re doing...” Sio gazed warily at the headstones which transported them to other locations. Mirza still hadn’t returned from Cathedral Ward since they’d left him with Nostradamus, but Sio had a feeling he’d be lurking around regardless. Geronimo left to accomplish whatever mission she’d been on since before joining them, with Vidocq (interestingly) tagging along—’for research’ he’d claimed when they gave him a questioning glance. That just left Beckham and Tell, both of whom seemed content to take a break around the workshop; even still, the huntress was not keen on explaining any more than she had to.

“No, don’t bother; like I said earlier, most hunter have their own agendas. People come and go all the time. If it doesn’t concern them, we should just leave them be.” Adam finished adjusting his equipment. “You mentioned going back to Cathedral Ward, yeh?”

Sio nodded, gulping uneasily as she reminded herself that Mirza could very well be waiting them there, ready for an ambush. But somehow, instinct told her that he was much more interested in seeing her go on this strange and twisted journey first, instead of murdering them outright. Slowly she reached into her pocket, pulling out the vial he’d tossed at her.

“Best be going, then. We don’t have that much time.” A hand rested gingerly on her shoulder, Adam’s change in tone not having gone unnoticed by the girl. “C’mon, Cathedral Ward it is.”

As soon as they arrived though, Sio suddenly realized she didn’t know what the next step was. The church was the same as always, with the strange man/creature still sunken into the floor (although his mutterings seemed to have become much more dire since the last time they saw him) and a handful of villagers who actually heeded their warnings to take shelter, though that didn’t stop them from shooting disdainful glares at the trio.

“So...now what?” Adam cast her a curious glance and Sio felt herself blushing in embarrassment.

“I-I, uh...I’m, not sure...he didn’t say much after that, but....” The vial with its grotesque eye sat in her palm, as if silently reminding her of her fate. “I guess...it wouldn’t hurt to take a look around. I mean, it must have something to do with this, eyeball...otherwise he wouldn’t give it to me...”

“Ye sure it isnae a trap, lassie?” Hunter glanced warily at the vial. “Nae sayin’ I dinnae trust ye, but that Mirza...after hearin’ what he did te ya...”

Sio shook her head. “No, I know it sounds crazy, but I just know...he’s not lying about this. I’m going to go look around outside.” With that the huntress turned around, exploring the misty graveyard.

There didn’t seem to be anything aside from the usual crows that haunted the tombstones, but as they neared the gate the huntress fell to her knees, a splitting headache pounding her temples not unlike the kind she got whenever frenzy was induced...

“Oy lass! What’s wrong?”

“Is it the frenzy? But there’s nothing there—”

The entire party gasped as the Amygdala appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The Stakedriver did nothing to dissuade it as its bony fingers snatched the hunters into the air, and everything was dark after that...

...

“...Oy, what th’ fuck...” Groaning, Adam propped himself up with the Stake Driver, head still spinning from...whatever the hell just happened. He stood up unsteadily, eyes taking in the scenery: it appeared they were outside the church, but certain details looked...off. For one thing, the sun seemed to be shining again, if in a somewhat strange color even though they’d been in what felt like perpetual night forever. The ground also felt different; looking around, he noticed it was oddly warped, with undulations and roads that seemed to dead-end and lead to nowhere, small cliffs and hills inexplicably juxtaposed with the brick paving.

“...Alright, where the hell are we.” He gingerly shook the other two awake, Hunter moaning about whether or not this was a trap, as the huntress drank in their surroundings.

“Wh, where are we...is this still Yharnam? But why does it look so...strange.” The huntress felt around for the vial, which somehow was still miraculously in her hand. “The Amygdala snatched us...and took us here? Was that what Mirza wanted...”

“Tha’s it, this place’s bound ta be a trap of sorts,” the surgeon bemoaned, shaking his head. “If it is Yharnam, it isnae the one I’m familiar with. But it seems too...off to be real...maybe we’re all having a mass hallucination.”

“We can figure that out later. If it even matters at all,” Adam muttered, using the sighting lens to look off into the distance. “There’s a building of sorts in the distance; seems to be the Cathedral...or, similar anyway.”

As they walked along a strange and narrow walkway, Sio couldn’t help but shiver as she noticed its peculiar design. Warped architecture aside, she didn’t like the way it seemed to be funneling them in tighter, as if purposely forcing them up this path...her eyes trailed up the stone bridge, which seemed to be leading to a grand doorway.

“Careful—trouble ahead.” The huntress pulled out her weapons on instinct as the familiar shouts of a mob grew louder. Diseased villagers with torches and pitchforks were hardly a threat at this point, but the narrow bridge made it difficult for them to dodge around—as Sio narrowly missed a sharp tine in the face, a faint rumble turned her eyes towards a giant stone ball being set aflame, before being pushed off.

“Watch out—quick, get into the nooks!” Without any more explanation Sio grabbed the two men and pulled them into a small side crevice, right as the giant ball of fire steamrolled its way down the bridge—and taking much of the mob with it, to their relief. “What the heck...I knew that bridge was a trap...”

“At least it took out the rest of them,” Adam scanned at the doorway where the rock had rumbled down from. “Hmm, have a feelin’ we’ll need to be ready for something rather nasty at the top...” As those words left his mouth, the same two hunters who dropped the boulder opened the door, only to be immediately slaughtered by a monstrous executioner wielding a giant axe.

Sio shuddered as she caught a glimpse of the giant’s face. “Oh man...that thing, its face...what’s, what is it...”

“Is it a kin? Yer nae feelin’ ill are ye, lass?”

The huntress shook her head. “No, I don’t think so...I don’t sense or hear anything, so that’s good...but still, we can’t be careless. For such a large creature, it’s surprisingly fast...and that, face...”

The trio slowly trekked up the steps, careful not to catch its attention—though the second they ascended that invisible threshold out burst the creature, swinging its axe and roaring in fury.

“Ugly mug you’ve got there—!” A single shot to bring the creature to its knees, then charge up a shot with the Stake Driver; Adam expertly dodged another swing to move in for the final kill, until...

“Umph!”

“Is that magic?!”

Some sort of energy shockwave forced him to his knees, Adam bracing himself with the stake against the attack.

“Adam be careful!” He only heard the girl’s shout right before something grabbed him, restraining his limbs all the while continuing to fire off bursts of arcane magic. That grotesque face...it seemed those tentacles were for more than just looking menacing after all. Struggling to breathe, his fingers just managed to brush the pistol’s handle and Adam summoned all of his remaining energy to pull it out and fire a single shot. A sharp pain as he was dropped unceremoniously to the stone floor, Sio and Hunter moving in to finish it off while he regained his senses.

“Adam! Adam, are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t think those tentacles could reach out like that...” A sharp pain as the huntress dabbed a nasty cut on his lip, though otherwise he didn’t seem any worse for wear, luckily. “Are you wounded anywhere else? You didn’t break anything did you?”

“Nah...I’ll be fine.” He gave a cough while Hunter bandaged up his remaining scrapes. “We’re lucky there was only one of ‘em...for now, anyway.”

“Hey, what’s this...” Sio bent down at a small object that had rolled down during the fight. “It’s...ugh, a human skull...” She shuddered and pulled away, but Hunter pocketed it. “Uh, Hunter? Why are you...”

“Might’ve come from some unfortunate soul tha’s lost his head or some such; maybe we can return to ‘em. Or if not, at least give it a proper burial.” The huntress nodded in agreement, though personally she wouldn’t go near dead body parts with a ten-foot pole unless she had to. Perhaps being a surgeon made Hunter more inured against such things, but she was glad his compassion hadn’t disappeared.

The inside of the chapel was dark, save for a few torches that were lit (though who lit them, nobody could figure out). A large alter, with a skeletal creature lying across it motionless, its corpse inexplicably smoldering still.

“Oh, my...” Sio cautiously walked up to it, but there was no reaction from it. “Is it...dead? It, looks like a cleric beast...and somehow, it’s still burning...” A sudden rustling noise made all heads turn towards Hunter, whose pack was jostling even though the surgeon wasn’t doing anything.

“Egads—what in blazes—!” The skull they’d picked up was now rattling about, and suddenly the creature on the throne, which had been quietly smoldering away, started blazing anew. “Nay...it cannae be, tis your skull...”

“Next time Hunter, let’s just leave things be, yeh?” Adam commented dryly as the creature came roaring to life, a wave of heat washing over them as the flames soared high. “Oy, we came to return your head—an’ this is how you thank us?”

The heat coming off the beast was intense; more than once Sio had to back off just to breathe without burning her lungs. It seemed weak to firearm shots; the group easily staggering it to pull off visceral attacks, but the more damage they did the more the flames seemed to spread.

“Careful! This whole area’s ‘bout to burst into flames!” Hunter leapt back as molten lava pooled on the ground. “This creature...it seems to be creatin’ these magma pools...” Dragging itself on its forelimbs now that its bottom torso had been severed, it seemed no less keen on incinerating them: swiping and grabbing if they were close enough, as its severed body seemed to pour out magma at will.

“Ouch—” The huntress tried to avoid the fire, but it was nearly impossible when cinders continued to rain from the sky. The acrid smell of burnt hair and skin filled her nose, but they couldn’t let up; ignoring the many burn marks, she fired at its head, the beast howling as it clutched the wound, Sio using the opportunity to spear it literally head-on. “Now! Adam, Hunter!”

The two men dove in parallel, landing their attacks as Sio kept it immobilized. Gushes of what appeared to be fiery blood arched through the air, the body sagging as the lava drained out and cooled, the entire creature now hardening into a blackened lump as the fires finally burned out.

“All right fine, there’ll be no more ‘returning things to the grave’,” Hunter muttered, brushing away the singed ends of his goatee. “Happy?”

“Yes.” Adam replied flatly, just glad none of them had ended up bursting into flames. “Compassion is one thing, stupidity is another...”

“Oy now—”

“Hey, it’s a, name...” Both men stopped their quarrel at the girl’s voice. “La...Laurence. That’s what’s written here on this plaque.”

“Laurence...as in, the First Vicar of the Healing Church?” Adam blinked; that was a name he hadn’t heard of in a long time, save for the history and legends of the past. “What’s he doing here...and as a cleric beast, no less.”

“‘I tell you, I will not forget the old adage. Fear the old blood.’” Small fingertips traced the worn carving; maybe they were made by someone else, or maybe even Laurence himself. “The old blood...that’s what Nostradamus was talking about, how the Church ended up using it and turning people into monsters...maybe that’s what happened to Laurence, as well.”

Adam shook his head. “The irony of it all. There’s a reason the Church isn’t what it used to be...not that they were ever that good to begin with...serves them right, if you ask me.”

The Healing Church, and the old blood...they all ended up becoming the thing they feared the most... Shaking her head, Sio tried not to think too hard about all the implications she’d come to learn so far. Was it really her destiny to become one of those wretched creatures? Just for being a hunter and following her own path?

“Oy, rookie? Er, sorry...Sio?” She looked up to Adam’s sheepish face, smiling a bit as she heard him correct his misnomer. “Your burns...we should probably at least take a look before moving on.” She looked down at her shirt, dotted with scorch marks and burned fabric that stuck to her skin from the dried blood. “Here, let me help...”

“Nngg...” She couldn’t help but wince when Adam had to literally tear the melted fabric from her skin, before dabbing on antiseptic to disinfect it. “Ah! It stings...”

“Sorry...here, this should help with the burning.” Gentle hands applied a soothing salve, Sio sighing as it eased the burning somewhat. “Um, Sio?” She looked up at his face, which was slightly pink for some reason—and it wasn’t from the heat. “Er, d’you mind...I’m sorry, it’s just, I need you to take off your, uh,” he gave a slight cough and his cheeks turned pinker, “chest bindings... You’ve a bad burn running along your back.”

“O-Oh...s, sure, uh, give me a second...” Fortunately Adam was sharp enough to turn around, giving her a little bit of privacy as the huntress gingerly shed the wrap. The cold air caused her to shiver, though as she hunched over with arms clasped tightly around her chest while Adam cleaned the wound, she couldn’t help but also shiver from his touch; his fingers were calloused but warm, as they rubbed the ointment in. It felt good to be touched, especially so gently... She felt her own cheeks flushing, and prayed fervently Adam wouldn’t notice.

“Here, if you wanna give me a hand with the bandage...” Silently she nodded, grabbing the clean linen and winding it around her petite chest as Adam helped tie it up in the back. “That should do.” Taking a deep breath, Sio forced herself to maintain a straight face as she got dressed again. Getting distracted by all her newfound feelings and desires was a surefire way to get killed on the battlefield, no matter how tempting they were to indulge in.

Poking around, they discovered stairs descending into a cave of sorts, which were anything but deserted. Hunters wearing strange clothes and wielding even stranger weapons ambushed them, including one that looked like a giant hammer that caused explosions with each blow, and another that could only be described as a giant, whirling circular saw. Before she could even figure out how the weapons functioned someone tackled her to the ground, right as a hail of bullets exploded above their head. ‘A turret?! I’ve never seen one of those before...!’ Yet there it stood, being manned by another hunter, automatically sending suppression fire their way and making it difficult to take out the other hunters, let alone get close.

“Adam! Hunter!” Sio grit her teeth and forced herself to just take row of bullets at point-blank, sacrificing her left arm in order to get close enough to turn the turret into scrap metal before doing the same to the opposing hunter. Blood dripped down her arm, the huntress ignoring the pain as she backed up the other two men. The strange whirligig saw clashed violently against the blade of her spear, Sio’s teeth chattering from the endless metal-on-metal gnashing until Adam ran a stake through the other’s throat.

“Blast, what in the name of...” Hunter shook his head, too exhausted to continue. “Nivvermind; I’m just glad we made it out all in one piece...mostly.” The surgeon grimaced as he picked the shrapnel out of Sio’s arm, dropping them one by one into a basin. “Swear t’ god, yur almost as bad as Muirhead these days,” he jerked his head towards the other hunter, who was patching himself up. “Adam, quit influencin’ the lass. Yur teachin’ her some dangerous habits...”

“I am not—or have you forgotten about the first battle where we met?” The hunter snapped back peevishly, though secretly he was bit pleased that Sio looked up to him. But Hunter was right, it wouldn’t do for both of them to be charging so recklessly into battle all the time. Especially now... he glanced at the huntress, who was finally wrapping up her arm after all the bullets were picked out.

If anything happened Sio now, Adam wasn’t sure what he’d do. Or not do.

“Don’t worry about me, Hunter. I know my limits...mostly,” she wilted a bit under the surgeon’s stern glare. “B-Besides, sometimes you have to be willing to make sacrifices...otherwise you won’t get anywhere...”

“Well, I’ll pray none of those sacrifices are yur life.” Hunter sighed and packed up his bags. “Up an’ at ‘em, I suppose.”

A back door of sorts led them out of the cursed chapel, though Sio wasn’t sure if this was any better. The scenery before them could only be described as something from one of the circles of hell: a blood-red sky that was mirrored in the river of blood that poured out into the streets, littered with skeletal remains of corpses both human and non-human. Even worse, she could make out several hulking figures patrolling the area, just like the one they fought earlier.

“What...is this place? It’s like a nightmare...only worse.”

“Hell if I know. At this point, it doesn’t really matter,” Adam kicked off a skeletal figure that was trying to claw at his boot. “Bugger off!”

“Adam!”

“What! I’m not lettin’ that thing touch me! Who knows what they are.”

“Yeah but, it’s still alive...” Sio muttered, creepy as they were it didn’t seem like they could do any harm. “It’s like they’re...suffering, somehow...” She hugged herself, trying not to stare at the twisted bodies and skeletons that came to life whenever they approached, splashing through the river of blood.

“We’ve got little time to waste here, lass. I understand how you feel, but there isnae much we can do fer ‘em at this point.” Hunter gave her a pat on the head. “Maybe when this is finally all over, they can rest in peace.”

Sio nodded in silence. It was true, there wasn’t much they could do. As the group marched on through the blood, they were careful to avoid the vicars, although some encounters were inevitable. Armed with their newfound knowledge however, it was much easier to avoid their grabbing attacks, though Sio still felt herself creeping on the edge of a frenzy burst throughout the fights. Not to mention the speed at which they swung those axes; more than once she narrowly avoided getting cleaved in two, though the resounding shockwave still stunned her momentarily.

“Sio, you holding up alright?” She clutched her head as a wave of nausea passed through, Adam looking worried but she waved him off. For the time being there were no more executioners in the area, though they were by no means safe. Even the enemies they encountered in this place seemed to be warped from what they were used to, and often with the threat of frenzy as well.

The group now made their way over to the entrance of another ruined hall, this one with stairs leading down to an ominous chamber. “I’ve a feelin’ we’re in for somethin’ down there...” Hunter shook his head as they crept downwards.

She gulped and nodded. There was just something about the opening that made her shiver, more than the blighted landscape already did. She was a lot stronger now, but so was the nightmare, it seemed. A wave of unease ran through her body. It wasn’t fair; why was it when she finally felt like she was making some headway, some thing or other would come along and make her feel vulnerable and weak.

It didn’t take any special insight or heightened awareness for all three hunters to sense that something awaited them inside. Sio gulped as they slowly descended into the corridor with torches in hand, trying not to let her nerves overwhelm her.

“You seek nightmares, and the secrets within, do you not?"

Sio’s heart leapt to her throat, her spear inches from the the man who had spoken. Somehow none of them spotted this man, despite their senses, though it could be due to the fact he seemed to blend in with the very wall itself.

"Who th—wait, Tell?!”

The mysterious hunter who invited himself into their group. Who knew about Nostradamus and the past, and always preferred to attack from a distance with his specially modified Bowblade, now inexplicably awaited them in this dingy dungeon; even though Sio was sure he’d stayed behind. “Wh, what are you doing here? I thought you were back at the Hunter’s Dream...?”

“Ogura, Muirhead, and Hunter. So, you decided to seek the truth?” Tell didn’t answer their question. “Then follow me.”

“Uh, what about my question...” Sio muttered as they followed him down the dank steps. They mostly trusted him by now, but still, after what happened with Mirza... Sio made sure her Blunderbuss was within easy reach.

“What is this place? You know something, don’t you?” Luckily, Adam was less subtle. “You’ve known all along about this ‘Nightmare’ or what have you, even before you joined us...”

Their companion gave no notice to their words; if he did, it didn’t seem to bother him. “This Hunter’s Nightmare, where veterans who go mad with blood are destined to wander for eternity, in a never-ending hunt...you’re serious about bringing it to an end, aren’t you, Ogura?”

Sio wasn’t sure what to make of that statement, or the way Tell seemed to be avoiding their gaze. “W, Well...I guess? I mean, you heard Mirza back at the Cathedral; I don’t really trust him to tell the truth, but this place...it feels like there’s something here that will make things clearer.”

“This place is usually only for those who have long lost their sanity; yet here you are, with your minds intact. That in and of itself is quite an achievement. Perhaps, you might actually...”

“Do what, Tell? Why don’t you just drop it with this ‘mysterious benefactor’ act and tell us what’s really going on?” Having run out of patience, Adam planted himself firmly in the path, much to Sio’s surprise. “You know. The truth of what this place is: the hunts, creatures—hell you knew of Sio’s condition before she even told you...”

Tell’s face remained as impassive as ever, which annoyed Adam to no end—but there was a shift in his body language. “...I suppose. As you are a seeker of the secrets...and after being with your group for some time, I have to admit you have exceeded my expectations.” The group stopped to the side, Tell sighing and propping the Bowblade into the stone floor.

“Long ago, before I became an Executioner, or anything like that...I was part of the Church Hunters, formed by Ludwig, the Holy Blade—I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Back in those days, the Church Hunters truly believed they were doing good; Ludwig sincerely believed in trying to erase the scourge before it could threaten ordinary citizens, and for a time we were rather successful. But of course, you all know what happens in the end to those who become mired in blood.” Sio shivered as a gust of wind seemed to come, along with the change in Tell’s voice.

“Ludwig, like most other members of the church, became a beast himself. And the Church started taking on more extreme methods of extermination—including stalking citizens even before signs of the scourge manifested; as you realized with Mahesh Mirza. He is one of those who came into the employ of the Church later, with no scruples or morals—allowed to kill for even the flimsiest of suspicions.” The dark-haired hunter shook his head in disgust. “I left after that; took to wandering around for a while, trying to gather information about what the Church was up to, and what happened. Ended up joining the Executioners for a time—but again, it was more as a means to gain information; rather than really adhering to Logarius’ teachings.”

“So that’s why you weren’t interested in killing Queen Annaliese...I always thought that was a bit odd for an Executioner,” Adam commented. “So what is this place, then? Why did you follow us?”

“This realm...as you might have guessed, it isn’t ‘real’; at least, not in the normal sense of the word. It is quite literally a nightmare, being dreamt by a creature that’s not human. A Great One; so even though it’s only a dream, to us mere humans it seems as real as the world we just came from.”

“A...dream...?” Sio’s head spun, though in hindsight it made sense. Things were never what they seemed, ever since she started the hunt. More and more lately she found herself questioning what was actually real, what could be believed, and what was just in her own head... “So then, that’s what Mirza meant by defeating the Nightmare...he’s talking about the Great One who’s in this dream, isn’t he? And the one who’s dreaming, I guess.”

Tell nodded. “I’m fairly certain, but again, I can’t guarantee anything. But for sure, at the end of this Nightmare...there will be an answer. At the very least, I can confirm this nightmare is hiding something the Church wanted to keep secret.”

“That...is good enough for me, Tell. And, thank you for your strength.” Sio shook hands with the marksman, the man giving her a small tip of the hat.

It was a group of four that walked into the dank, dripping cavern, filled with corpses and creatures that were seemingly dead yet not-dead. They undulated and writhed, acting as if they were in an endless suffering.

"Ahh, ahh, please... help us... Ah... An unsightly beast... A great terror looms! Ahh... Ludwig the Accursed is coming. Have mercy... Have mercy upon us..."

“Ludwig? What?” The living corpse that uttered the warning flailed its arms, before dissolving into mad cackles. Sio only had the briefest of moments to scan the room, looking for anything that might even remotely resemble the legendary hunter. “He’s still...alive?”

“Likely not as a human; there can be no doubt Ludwig is no longer the hunter I once followed,” Tell grimaced. “He’s no different from the rest of those creatures, now. And no doubt extremely dangerous; when he was human, his skills were legendary. I don’t want to know just how much that power has become warped and twisted now that he’s given into the blood...”

Among the fetid water and up the disintegrating staircase, a grotesque skull atop legs that seemed much too small eyed them with a glaring eyeball as they approached. At first glance it looked like a man, but then Sio noticed the strangely elongated mouth, filled with rotting and gnarled teeth. Eyeballs so numerous she had a hard time figuring out which were real and which were the result of the mutations; a terrible mish-mash of strangled limbs and cloven hooves scraped the floor. Then a horrible, ear-splitting screech as the creature leapt into the air, the hunters jumping out of the way just as the monstrous clawed slammed into the stones.

“This is it, prepare yourselves! Ludwig, now as an accursed beast...careful, this fight will not be an easy one!” Tell warned the others as they regrouped. “Make sure you keep your guard up!”

“Easy fer ye t’ say...not all of us can keep our distance!” Hunter shot back, narrowly dodging a wild swing from the horse-man beast. “Blast, this one’s fast!” Ludwig’s deranged attacks were wildly unpredictable, and more than once Sio found herself flung into the stones, coughing as she scrambled to get out of the way. That, and the constant screaming, were more than enough to drive her bloodlust up; but she willed herself to remain composed. Ludwig was a dangerous foe; not only did he clomp along those deformed, gangly legs with shocking speed, but he could spew a torrent of arcane fluid at them, which dissolved everything it touched. Even Tell only narrowly avoided an untimely death, due to Hunter’s last-minute strikes which caused the creature to teeter off-balance.

“Damn it...!” Another terrible shriek from the monster, before it leapt forward faster than the eye could see; Adam grunted as his Stake Driver blocked the brunt of the blow, but not follow-up kick that knocked him into the girl.

“Ugh!” The huntress didn’t even notice before Adam was flung against her, the two of them thrown into the watery floor. “Ow...I swear, this freaking Ludwig...haven’t been able to get a clear shot in at all.”

“You alright Sio? Sorry...I should’ve been paying more attention.” Adam winced as he pulled her up, Ludwig mercifully being kept busy by the other two for now. “Tell wasn’t kidding when he said this Ludwig’s extremely dangerous...if we get caught in even one of his attacks straight on, we’re done for. We need to fight cautiously and watch his movements, instead of rushing straight on.”

As much as she prided herself in her newly-found skills, the huntress had to admit Adam was right. Not only were Ludwig’s attacks fast and hard to read, but he could leap from anywhere in the room—even from the ceiling, such as right now as he dove straight down, Sio narrowly avoiding the fatal slam and getting splashed with a wave of bloody water instead. Hit-and-run tactics seemed to fair slightly better, as evidenced by Hunter’s constant weaving amongst the limbs—but the rate at which they could damage him was too slow for her tastes.

‘That head though...’ It was so grossly misshapen she had a hard time discerning which part was man, which part beast. The long snout, combined with the hooves and buck teeth, and that screeching whinny... ‘Is he a horse...?’ Despite the equine features, his main eyes were still staring straight ahead, like that of humans. ‘He probably can’t see his flanks very well, with such a head...’ She tested her theory and successfully sank the spear into the left, Ludwig rearing up from the attack and kicking her away—but as the huntress spat out a mouthful of blood, it had been worth it.

“Got you now, you bastard...” Plunging a blood vial into her arm, Sio fired her blunderbuss the second Ludwig turned away, forcing the creature to his knees. Hunter and Adam immediately understood her intentions as they swooped to his exposed flanks, while she ripped into him directly.

“Get back! Ogura, Muirhead, Hunter! Something’s happening!” Their archer shouted from a distance, Sio only just noticing a strange glow before the creature righted itself—but it was more than just picking itself up. Limbs creaked and groaned, shifting and merging until it seemed to have evolved, almost. Now Ludwig stood atop his horse legs, the head righted itself somewhat; and a glowing, ethereal blade grasped in his hands...

"Aah, you were at my side, all along. My true mentor... My guiding moonlight..."

Sio suddenly had a very bad feeling about this. A strange power emanated from the sword, then Ludwig swung it with tremendous force.

“Where did that sword come from?!”

“Not important here, squirt!” Adam grimaced as he barely parried the blow. Great, just what they needed—a creature that was capable of transforming into an almost entirely-new monster before they were through with it. Even though the blade didn’t make contact, the shockwave of arcane magic did; all four hunters were knocked down in an instant, and only a desperate molotov from Adam saved them from certain death.

“Shite, we really need to watch ourselves,” Hunter bemoaned as they all plunged vials of blood into their bodies, some more than others. “How th’ bloody hell can we even get close enough? There’s no way Tell can shoot ‘im ta death a’fore he kills us!”

“We can get close...it’s not impossible, you just have to time it!” The huntress had been using her recovery time to watch the fight, her eyes focusing on the blade in particular. The magic was deadly, that was for certain—and with her weakness to frenzy, she’d likely take more damage than the others. But as another jet of pulsing green light sliced her way, she noticed only the edge of her cape was cut; the rest seem to just pass through.

Before any of the others could realize it, she was rushing towards Ludwig head-on—much to Adam’s dismay.

“Sio! What do you think you’re doing?! You’ll get killed! Blast it all to hell...!” Not for the first time, Adam cursed the girl’s penchant for just throwing herself into danger; even if her instincts were usually correct. Without even a glance back he ran after her, determined to make sure she didn’t just rush to her death.

Left. Right. To the right again. The huntress seemed to be in a trance of sorts, almost floating as she deftly sidestepped the waves of magic. The timing was tight, that was for certain—more than once she felt the heat from the blade as it just grazed her skin, or sliced off bits of her hair. Slowly but surely, she was getting closer though; Ludwig now distracted by her other companions as she finally rolled to his side, those disgusting horse-man legs still twitching about.

A shriek that literally shook the building echoed throughout the chamber, as Sio stabbed her Rifle Spear into Ludwig’s haunch. The beast sagged, allowing everyone to rush him. The air was thick with crimson and gore, the huntress choking from the stench but dove forward anyway. Just as she pulled her spear out something kicked her in the side, and she turned just in time to see Ludwig prop himself up and raise his sword to the heavens.

“I’ve got a bad feelin’ ‘bout this...’tis nivver gud when they get all posturing like that--”

The sword was charging up with arcane energy, everybody’s hair standing on end and crackling with magic. “We can’t retreat now! We’ve got him on the ropes—if we don’t press the attack, he might get us first!” Sio wiped the blood from her mouth, eyes glancing at the sword.

“But that’s too—” Adam started to argue but Sio shook her head.

“Trust me, the safest place to be is next to him! His attacks are far-reaching, but he’s no good when you’re right up between his legs—well okay, he’ll probably kick you—but it’s better than getting blasted with...whatever it is he’s charging up now.” She grasped the other hunter’s arm. “Adam, you said you trusted me with your life, right? Then I’m asking you right now, to do so.”

“I...” One look, and he knew it was pointless to argue. “Alright. Just let us know when, Sio.”

“...Now! Don’t hesitate!” Even if it seemed like rushing into hell itself, the huntress dove towards Ludwig, spear thrust forward. She interrupted his charge, allowing the others to sink their attacks as she herself continued to rip whatever parts of the beast where within reach. Even as the ominous glow started up again, and shouts of warnings from others reached her ears, she didn’t stop--couldn’t stop. Not even the state of her own wounds could shake her, critical as they were.

‘I’ve almost got him...we’re so close, I can’t stop now...!’

There was no dramatic cry or any grandiose posing; the charge attack never came, Ludwig instead heaving a long sigh before he slumped over. His holy sword faded and clattered onto the stone tiles with a dull thunk, before the horse-body vanished into thousands of blue particles.

“Th, that...that’s it? Oh thank goodness...” Exhaustion swept the huntress, Sio tempted to sink into the ground herself. The room was silent once more, save for the drip, dripping of water and the still-flailing undead. All that was left now was the grotesque horse-head, still twitching and moaning despite everything.

“Is that...thing still alive?” The surgeon side-eyed the horse head. “Ugh. What I wouldnae give ta run it through wit’ me blades and silence the damn thing once and for all...”

“I-I don’t think it can hurt us anymore...oof...” Sio sucked in a breath as Hunter patched up all her wounds, including a nasty gash across her left shoulder. “Not gonna lie, I seriously thought we were done for a few times...”

“You mean like when you charged straight ahead?” Adam chastised, using his teeth to wrap a bandage on his arm. “You’re seriously going to give me a heart attack or something at this rate, Sio...”

The girl winced at his statement. “S, Sorry Adam...I didn’t mean to make you worry...b-but I can say the same about you! Always jumping in like you’re invincible—which you’re not, by the way—”

Hunter rolled his eyes as the other two started bickering over who was more reckless. “Aye, how ‘bout we just all try ta’ get outta here in one piece? Speaking ‘o which, where’s our intrepid marksman?”

The archer was, in fact, examining Ludwig’s head; and from the sound of the voices, it seemed the horse monster could still talk, as well.

"Good Hunter of the Church, Have you seen the light? Are my Church Hunters the honorable spartans I hoped they would be?”

“Um...” Sio wasn’t sure if it was appropriate for her to answer. None of them were Church hunters after all—at least, not anymore.

“...No, Sir Ludwig. I’m sorry to say, but the Church...is no longer what it once stood for,” answered Tell stoically.

“Oh, my. Just as I feared. Then a beast-possessed degenerate was I, as my detractors made eminently clear. Does the nightmare never end?!"

Once again the horrible, shrieking whinny filled the air, Sio plugging her ears in despair. Not just from the horse’s screams, but Ludwig’s words—‘does the nightmare never end?!’—what if it that was true? What if she was doomed to be trapped her forever, just as Mirza taunted?

“...I’m sorry, Master Ludwig.” Without another word Tell swung the Bowblade, silencing the monster’s wailing at last. “I hope you find peace...and the light which you sought, all this time.”

#documentation #hunt or be hunted #//wow #//finally updating all my fics

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confusedunit · 4 years ago

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A Faint Divergence - Day 8

12 Days of Ficmas - Day 8 Gen, as always. Fluff Characters: Tommy, Bubby, Dr. Freeman, Dr. Coomer, Isaac, Eli, Barney Calhoun, Mr. Coolatta, Sunkist

Most nights at the Morally Gray, Tommy was more than content to take part in the festivities. But sometimes, he liked to sit back and just take in the vibe, and the memories.

The Morally Gray was what the guards had named the under the table bar they'd put together in the lower levels, named in 'honor' of the scientists above. 'Because the Morally Bankrupt didn't roll off the tongue as well' had been quipped more than once, but each time he thought it was funny. They'd stocked it with resources they gathered on their own, though once Tommy had found out about it he'd put some of his own money into it. He liked their entrepreneurship!

Drinks had a cost, but just for them to be able to pay for more alcohol. And non alcohol, of course, mostly mocktails. But the guard who ran the Morally Gray half the nights made sure she always kept a stock of soda for Tommy. He stirred his drink with a smile, a 'Sunkist on the rocks', with an umbrella and an orange twist. Not too much ice, of course, so he still had room for his silly straw.

Sure, he technically worked in some of the more administrative areas of the building, but like, he wasn't a cop about it. His job was to keep people safe, which is why he'd invested money into the little bar, to make sure it was up to code. After that? Literally not his department's problem.

And how much it had grown. It was one of the most bumping places on the lower levels, though it wasn't quite difficult to manage that. They'd covered the windows to the room with blackout paper and curtains, hooked up neon lights of various colors and shapes, and had even managed to install some tables and seats. The bar was still left over from built in storage cabinets and two desks put together, but Tommy had put in a work order to his father, which they both planned to have filled by Christmas. There were two TVs near the bar, but neither were on. They tended to only get turned on when someone brought their game systems in for community tournament night, or if someone brought a VHS tape to watch.

Tommy sighed, content to watch and listen from his booth near the door. Sunkist was with him, lying down on the booth and his lap, also watching the people. He was a curious pup, but well behaved, especially when he wore his Service Dog vest. He wasn't allowed in the upper levels, other scientists getting upset about an animal in the labs, and Tommy hadn't known enough about the ADA to argue his case at the time. Now that he did, it wasn't worth the trouble. At least he could have Sunkist in his dorm, and he could come with him here.

He took another sip of his soda, looking to the table pulled up against the bar. Dr. Freeman and Calhoun had fallen into their usual pattern, slowly having drinks while playing poker and trash talking each other. Bets were between the two of them, but they always played with chips regardless. They usually operated on a 'whoever has the most points wins' kind of thing for their bets. Dr. Freeman laughed and ran a hand through his hair, which was loose that night, and sipped at his second rum and coke of the night. Calhoun groaned and complained about something or other, sulking a bit dramatically as he drank some local craft beer from the town far above.

Bubby was with the two this time, hollering and cackling as he cheered on whoever was actively winning at the time, moving over to stand behind whoever actively had his support. His drink often varied, though it was always alcohol free. They weren't entirely sure if it was safe for a guy who could just make fire to drink flammable liquids, and no one wanted there to be a night they really tested it. Usually he went for a lemonade and iced tea drink, but that night he was drinking a Shirley Temple, with extra cherries.

Dr. Coomer was at another nearby table, talking with Isaac and Eli animatedly about some recent research he had done. Isaac was already drunk on Manhattans, but he was always just happy to be out and spend time with people he cared about, and relaxing had always been hard for him since he was so high strung. When he was able to actually just loosen up, he was happy to just listen. Eli on the other hand was still drinking his first, and likely only, tequila sunrise of the night, and gladly talked with Dr. Coomer about his most recent hyperfixation.

Dr. Coomer himself was drinking the bar's most recent attempt at a 'punch'. Every month they would mix up a new batch of punch with different flavors, originally wanting to figure out something that could stick on the menu, but ending up with a rotating monthly pick which people liked anyway. He laughed, holding his mug with both hands to keep it steady. That month was fig punch, and the purple liquid would definitely stain if it spilled.

Eventually, Eli stood, holding out a hand to help Isaac to his feet as he invited Dr. Coomer to a Virtua Fighter 2 battle. Dr. Coomer laughed, standing and accepting his challenge. They both moved over to the more 'lounge' part of the bar, Isaac held up between them, before they got him situated on one of the nearby couches so they could play.

Calhoun finally gave up on their poker game, tossing his chips into the middle of the table and slowly standing with a stretch of his back. Bubby moved in to taunt and banter, and quickly challenged the other man to a few rounds of Area 51, while Dr. Freeman almost laughed himself ill. Calhoun moved over quickly to help steady him from his wheezes, before grinning at the other and accepting his terms. The three moved across the room, Dr. Freeman lying down on one of the other couches to recover from his laughing fit. He occasionally would whistle to get the two's attention, signing something to them that they would respond to, otherwise slowly playing with his Tangle.

Tommy closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the joy in his chest. When he opened them again, the world was blue, and his father was sitting across from him. He smiled. "I thought you didn't like bars?"

"Usually...I do not." He reached out to where the bartender was frozen, taking the seltzer water she had poured and taking a sip. "But I wished to...see where you, have, been...spending your time."

He smiled brighter. "It's- it's really great. They're- these humans are more resourceful than a batch of honeybees!"

His father's mouth twitched slightly, the closest to a smile he ever usually got these days. "They really, have...made a place for themselves, here." He took another sip. "Likely why you, spend your time here, correct?"

He laughed. "Am I really that- that obvious? I can't help it!"

"I know, Tommy. It's one of, your, more wonderful...traits. Your awe, with humans, and their...ability to, persevere, against all...odds."

He finished his soda, hand bouncing a bit as he set it back on the table. "They're just- just so- they're so interesting!"

"I know." His mouth twitched again, before he looked around the room. "The, supply request, will...be completed soon. I, look forward to...seeing how this looks, after, they have them put, in."

"Thank you, dad. They- they really need this." There's more meaning to his words than just the words themselves. They both know that.

"I know." His mouth twitched once more, and the two of them sat in silence in the frozen bar for a while, enjoying each other's company. Eventually, however, his father finished his seltzer, and set the cup down on the table.

"...Heading back to work?"

"Un, fortunately...yes." He reached out a hand to ruffle Tommy's hair. "However, I...hope you enjoy, the, rest of your...evening."

"Thank you, dad. I will."

The world shimmered and twisted, and the blue faded away. The bartender looked for her glass and blinked, confused as to where it had gone. Bubby turned to call for Tommy, complaining about Calhoun having cheated at the arcade cabinet. Calhoun and Dr. Freeman laughed, almost falling to the ground and off the couch respectively.

Sunkist hopped down off his lap, staring up at him with a calming but encouraging look.

Tommy smiled and stood, walking over to join his friends.

#*confused fanfiction noises*#UoU AU #A Faint Divergence #12 Days of Ficmas #12 Days of Ficmas 2020

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