#it felt right to close off this monster of a reblog chain

[myreygn]

genius additions by @kanawolf again (fourth pic is me reading them let's all pretend that i look like margot robbie thank you)

what you mentioned about sanemi's actions indirectly (or at least involuntarily) causing genya's demise is so painful because that is exactly what sanemi thinks he did. he hurt his brother so much, he pushed him away all these years and abandoned him - for what? what did it lead to in the end? that's what makes him a monster, not that he did all of these insanely messed up things that he genuinely thought were right but that they were pointless. they accomplished nothing in the end, just made everything more painful for everyone involved.

that's what he does, isn't it? fucking ruining everything wherever he goes. spends all these years mistreating genya - genya dies. (presumably) takes a major chunk of the abuse his father put the kids through to protect his siblings - they die before they can even grow old enough to understand the full gravity of their father. tries so hard to protect his mother from his father (even though he shouldn't have to do this, that's not his job, he's a child) and they manage to get through this horrible time, they manage to survive the man who they thought was gonna be the death of them some day - and not only does she die, she dies at sanemi's hands.

i didn't even think about this aspect of him literally becoming his father in that regard, or what they always thought his father would eventually become but now that you mention it this makes everything so much worse. i don't even have any additions, you said it all - i just want to add that i 100% agree that sanemi hates himself. that is genuinely canon to me, i take that as granted.

i didn't watch the good place and i didn't know the quote but it really sets into perspective how hard it is to assign a person to put the blame on. is sanemi to blame? well yeah obviously, to a certain extent, but to what extent? how much of the shit that went down is on his father? how much of it is to be blamed on his age, how much on his trauma? is there any blame to be put on genya? maybe, for the murderer comment, but also no what the hell no way he was a kid. sanemi was a kid too, sanemi was older than genya, does that make a difference? personally i find it very difficult - who's the biggest victim in this? what, are we comparing trauma now? is a victim who becomes an abuser as a result of being a victim any less of a victim?

it's messy and complicated and heart wrenching. i have to be very honest and tell you that my sickness is frying my brain a little right now and the only conclusion i can draw is that all of them deserved better.

one more thing though: i work at an elementary school and recently i overheard a colleague of mine talk about a six year old troublemaker to the kid's grandma, they were discussing how they could deal with the child and work together better. and my colleague said: "i've been in this field for seven years and i've encountered a lot of messy heads but not a single bad heart."

do you ever think about how sanemi's animosity towards tanjiro makes so much sense from a narrative perspective because tanjiro is literally everything sanemi isn't?

both of them lose their fathers at a very young age, only that sanemi's father was a horrible abusive jerk who inflicted severe trauma upon his entire family while tanjiro's father was the coolest guy around whose lessons continue to motivate tanjiro and impact his life in a positive way.

both of them have to deal with a beloved family member turning into a demon, only that sanemi ends up killing his mother and has to come to terms with the fact that although she became a monster he still killed his mother while tanjiro manages to guide his sister through her monstrosity and finds ways to help her keep her humanity in tact.

both of them lose their families with only one younger sibling remaining, only that sanemi and genya get separated and estranged while tanjiro and nezuko never lose their close relationship.

[spoilers below the cut]

both of them have to deal with their younger sibling being a demon (one way or the other), only that sanemi's hatred towards demons as a whole makes it impossible for him to look at genya the same way while tanjiro loves his sister all the same, no matter if she's demon or human.

both of them try to protect their younger siblings from danger, only that sanemi can't think of anything but straight up abuse to try and push genya away which remains unsuccessful while tanjiro and nezuko work together well during fights and tanjiro still manages to keep her safe.

both of them fight with the goal to keep their siblings alive, only that genya dies and leaves sanemi with a ton of guilt and regret while tanjiro and nezuko get their happy ending.

both of them are thrown into the conflict between demons and humans out of nowhere, only that sanemi spends a considerable amount of time on his own, killing demons without any assistance while tanjiro gets sent of with a hashira recommendation letter to urokodaki's where he receives a proper training and finds a new home and family.

both of them find companions along the way and form meaningful relationships with them, only that masachika dies young with sanemi being unable to protect him while tanjiro, zenitsu and inosuke stay together through everything and manage to survive even the final battle.

and a lot of this is meta knowledge, a lot of this is information that sanemi doesn't have about tanjiro. but he does have some of it and i think it's enough knowledge for me to put up this theory: sanemi envies tanjiro. because both of them went through unspeakable trauma and grief, both of them lost people close to them, both of them had to deal with similar situations.

and yet tanjiro is kind. he's friendly and good, people trust him, people love to befriend them and he inspires them wherever he goes while sanemi is bitter and nasty and simply incapable of forming and maintaining these connections in the way tanjiro is because who'd want to be friends with a cruel jerk right? and tanjiro loves to take lonely people under his wing, but not even he is willing to forgive sanemi for most of the story and i can only imagine how that must sting because no one wants to be lonely and yet sanemi can't even blame him. he wouldn't forgive himself either.

[lady-rose-moon]

I have you || Chapter Thirteen ||

Hello to those who tuned in and welcome back to I have you!

The link to my main masterlist is ~~here~~

The link to my I have you masterlist and previous chapters is ~here~

Chapter Twelve | Masterlist | Chapter Fourteen

Please comment and reblog, it means a lot!

The thrill of proposing to his beloved soon washed away as Thor and Loki appeared on the island as far north as Asgard could go.   

Loki stared at the huge trees and the overgrown grass. If you had told someone that this place had once been a well-sought-out attraction for Aesir wanting to get away from daily Asgardian life, they wouldn’t believe you anymore. Barely any Aesir spoke of this place after Odin spread rumours of a vicious beast running through the woods of the getaway. Odin told everyone that Fenrir was a monster and if anyone were unlucky enough to come face to face with the beast, they would not live to tell the tale.  

The trees reached to Valhalla as Thor and Loki walked, having to cover their mouths to prevent unknown insects from getting into them. They knew that this place had been left abandoned just as it was. A holiday house still stacked with food and serene water surrounding the whole island. If someone wanted to live here, they might enjoy it. Except, of course, if you had to live here long past its decay. Fenrir Lokison lived among these tall trees, chained to a rock with the strongest metal made by the dwarves of Niðavellir. An impressive banishment for a beast but not for a child of merely ten in the eyes of Midgardians.  

A rustle of leaves to their left gave Thor and Loki pause. For one, they knew that they did not bring any Einherjar on this quest. Second, they knew without a doubt that no animals lived on this island after all being eaten by Fenrir in just over sixty years of his banishment. So, his son was here, and he was close. Loki summoned the scissors that he had found in Odin’s room that would free his son from banishment and he bit his lip as he stared ahead.  

A snarl from their right made Thor lift Mjolnir and charge into the treeline leaving Loki on his own. Sighing, the younger Prince took in the sounds around him, and he refused to feel fear for his son as he continued down the path that looked like it had been trekked numerous times. Fenrir had come across this path in his centuries of waiting. Loki felt a pang of guilt as he imagined his beautiful son slowly driven mad by such isolation.  

One moment, Loki knew he was standing on two feet and the next, he was tackled to the floor by a humungous wolf.  

“Fenrir, my darling?” Loki stared up into the snarled jaws of the fabled beast that roamed this island. His beloved son, his beloved Fenrir was standing on top of him, paws pressed into Loki’s small chest. He had grown to become the size of the trees on all four paws and Loki didn’t even want to find out how big his eldest son was when stood on his hind legs.   

The lone wolf glared down at his father before tilting its head curiously and sniffing him, recognising the scent of a man that he thought was merely a dream for the eight hundred years that he had been stolen. He had come to think that his father would never come to rescue him but now... this scent was his father. He had come after so long!   

Stroking a loving hand over the fur of Fenrir’s cheek, Loki frowned and looked up into the green eyes of the first son that Angrboða had blessed him with. He had never wanted his son to suffer. He had wanted to watch Fenrir grow and thrive on Asgard with his brothers as Loki had done with Thor; that would’ve been his ideal life.   

Fenrir wanted to be hugged by his father, he was so close to him for the first time in a few hundred years! Sniffing the small Asgardian, Fenrir confirmed that this small man beneath him was his father. His father had once been bigger than him! He had wanted to stay with his father more than anything and now, they were reunited! Whining, the large dog got off his father and walked over to a large cave entrance with his massive tail swaying with his excitement. Loki followed, laughing at the eagerness of his son.   

Entering the cave, Loki saw how Fenrir had scratched into the walls for every year that he had been trapped here. Sighing, Loki strode over to the bottom of the chain, unleashed the scissors that could cut him free and snapped the chain in half. The moment he was free, Fenrir howled with excitement and bounded from the cave and into the treeline, lost to the silence of the forests. Thor emerged from the treeline shortly after to see his little brother standing at the mouth of the cave with a sad smile.   

“Is something wrong, brother?” Thor asked and Loki didn’t even look at Thor as he frowned deeply, staring longingly out into the darkness of the trees.  

Sighing, Loki patted Thor’s shoulder and smiled softly as he started walking down the old path leading to the docks that were once too far for Fenrir to reach with the chains. When they arrived, they saw Fenrir waiting eagerly for them, sat on the land just next to the small dock with his tail wagging happily as he looked down at Loki expectantly. With a soft smile, Loki walked over to his son and held out his hand, a soft brush of fur against his palm was all that it took to turn his son into his human form.   

The young boy fell into his father’s expecting arms and was easily sleeping the moment that he hit the firm chest of the man who helped bring him to life. Loki sighed in relief and held the young boy to him with a tired smile, relieved to have his first son safely in his care once more. Hundreds of years had led to this moment and Loki savoured it, picking up the young boy and climbing aboard a boat that was waiting for them. Loki would bring Fenrir to meet you and then, they would be off to Midgard for you to continue your rule and for Loki to find Jörmungandr.   

Thor watched as Loki cradled the small boy and smiled gently when he realised that this was his true brother, unguarded and a loving father under all the armour he had built over the years. Thor would give anything to see that smile on Loki’s face more.   

When they arrived back at the Aesir castle, Thor guided Loki into the family quarters where you were laying, Sleipnir draped over your lap dramatically as he had his nose in a book. Loki smiled fondly at the sight of his son and fiancée getting along so well.  

Turning your head, you smiled lovingly when you saw Loki stood by the door, Fenrir curled lovingly in his strong arms. Reaching a tired hand out, you smiled happily as Loki walked over, “my handsome prince!”  

Loki chuckled and kissed your knuckles before holding your delicate hands, admiring the artwork done to your nails. They were a forest green with a golden Yggdrasil on the middle finger and the branches reaching out to wrap around the other nails until they delicately swirled to a stop at the bottom of the nails.   

“Did you and our son have fun?” Loki asked as he left your side to lay Fenrir on the sofa beside the fire, admiring how the orange glow lit up his son’s face perfectly to show all the features that he had inherited so much from himself. He could also see the images of Angrboða in his son. His nose, his chin, the shape of his eyes… everything like that belonged to Angrboða’s genes was prominent. However, everything else that Fenrir had belonged to Loki Laufeyson.   

You sighed and sprawled yourself out on the sofa, a hand lying atop the barely noticeable bump of your stomach, “it went great. Sleipnir has been a bit of a menace but he now knows that you and I are having a little one so he’s excited but also a bit jealous.”  

Humming to show you that he wasn’t ignorant, Loki turned his attention to the dying embers of the fire, adding a few more logs, and blowing on the flame so that it might burn brighter. When it did, Loki turned to look at you with a soft smile and shrugged, “that sounds like a Lokison if I ever did hear one.”  

A soft mumble came from beside you and Loki stood instantly, picking Sleipnir up and spinning with him carefully so that the child would not become nauseated from the spin, “mummy’s home, little one.”  

Sleipnir opened his eyes and smiled brightly at his mummy, wrapping his arms around his neck and nuzzling close to Loki’s body for his warmth. His beloved son was amazing in every way and Loki knew that when the time came, his son would become one of the most powerful mages of his sons and the deadliest warrior.   

Kneeling beside Fenrir, his youngest in his arms, Loki gently shook his eldest sons arm and smiled brightly when he lazily opened one eye to question what Loki wanted when he saw his littlest brother.  

“Well, aren’t you a surprise?” Fenrir smiled and looked to Loki for permission before picking Sleipnir up and studying him with keen interest, admiring how much Sleipnir resembled Loki even more than Fenrir did. In that moment, Fenrir realised that this child was his newest one to protect, “what’s your name, littlest brother?”  

Sleipnir watched his big brother with keen curiosity before a bright smile lit up on his face, “Sleipnir Lokison! You? How you know mummy?”  

Fenrir looked confused for a moment before seeing Loki pointing to himself with an amused smile. That was a question to be asked later on, then. “Ah, I see! Well, littlest brother, I am Fenrir Lokison. I am the first born!”  

Sleipnir let out the cutest squeal when he realised that one of his big brothers had been brought home and he cuddled close to the boy, his head rested comfortably on the boy’s shoulder as he smiled up at him, “hi! Mummy always talked about you and I’m so glad you’re home!! Mummy is too, right mummy?”  

That made both boys look to the God of Mischief, who was on his knees behind them furiously wiping tears from his eyes as he watched his beloved children bonding together. This was all that the God had wanted in his life, his children together for the first time. They were going to be together for the first time and this time, Odin wasn’t around to meddle. “I’m just so happy that everyone is finally coming together!”  

“Oh father, please don’t cry,” Fenrir sniffled and shuffled off the sofa and into Loki’s arms with his littlest brother still in his own. “Father, we wanted to come back for so long... we didn’t want to go; we don’t blame you either... We were taken, I’m assuming, on Odin’s orders. Damn that man for dying before I could sink my teeth into his...”  

“Fenrir Lokison!” you piped up, glaring over at the eldest son of Loki, “Never speak that name. Especially not in front of your little brother. Please, Sleipnir suffered the most.”  

Fenrir nodded gingerly and held Sleipnir on his lap as he cuddled up to Loki with a gentle smile. The young prince was happy as he could be when in his father’s arms. Then, he looked up again at you, “wait... you’re not my mother. Where’s mama?”  

Loki frowned as he looked at Fenrir, hating that he had to talk about this so soon, “let’s not discuss this right now, ok? This is not for little ears...”  

That gave all the clues that Fenrir needed, and he pushed away from Loki, tenderly sitting Sleipnir on the couch before walking onto the balcony and gripping the edge tight, tears falling down his cheeks. His mother was dead. His father was here and had saved him from his fate to die on that blasted island. But mama was dead so what use was there to live?  

A gentle hand was placed on the boy’s shoulder and he looked over at you with a frown, allowing you to envelop him in a hug and he bawled into your shirt, the tears dampening your shirt though you were uncaring to the fact.   

“It’s alright now, Fenrir, I have you. You’re safe and we will put this family back together again,” you mumbled, and Fenrir nodded, finally feeling safe for the first time since his banishment.  

You watched the eldest Lokison in contemplation, knowing that now that Fenrir knew Angrboða was dead, he wouldn’t want you to replace his original mother.   

Fenrir, hearing your silence and understanding you almost instantly, hugged you tighter and nuzzled his head further into your chest, “I’ll heal. Sleipnir has healed and so has father apparently. You are a perfect fit for him, Y/N, not as quiet as mother was. You have fire and it ignites whenever you come to a challenge, I can smell it. Your child with father will also be a very special one, like me and my siblings.”  

They remained on the balcony for a while after that, talking and bonding like mother and son. Fenrir confided to you how he was almost insane after his banishment to that island, but he felt like he would be able to heal if given the proper help by his father and the rest of the family. Loki watched them while sitting beside the fire and reading stories to Sleipnir.  

In the middle of the night, a storm was brewing over the beautiful city of Asgard. Thor was still grieving for the loss of King Odin, after all. He had been bringing storms since the day Odin died, keeping it bottled inside only for the storm to blow up while he was asleep.  

Loki had learned to ignore the storms that his brother brought, knowing that his own therapist would be helping the man be able to come to terms with Odin’s death and his instant claiming of the throne. Asgard needed to look strong and so, Thor was blocking away his emotions until he was breaking.   

A lightning bolt flashed in Sleipnir’s room, and the thunder sounded not even half a second afterwards. The young boy jolted awake with a yelp and tears rushed into his eyes. The child was tempted to go bother his mummy and complain to him about how he had been woken up but even Sleipnir knew that if that happened, Thor would not make it another day. King or not.  

So, hesitantly, Sleipnir slipped out of bed and tip-toed down the hallway to where Fenrir had been given his own room; the castle adjusting itself to house another room in Loki’s grand apartment.   

Slowly sliding the door open, Sleipnir slipped into his brother’s room and walked over to the bed. When he got to the bed, he raised a shaking hand and shook Fenrir until the boy awoke, “Fenny! Fenny, I need you…”  

Half asleep, Fenrir glared down at Sleipnir before sighing and lighting the candle on his bedside table, sitting up in bed and pulling Sleipnir onto the soft mattress with him, “what bothers you, little brother? Is it the storm?”  

Lip trembling, Sleipnir nodded and whimpered softly, crawling onto his brother’s knees and cuddling up to him. Still shocked but nonetheless concerned, Fenrir brought his littlest brother into his arms and swayed side to side while gently stroking his nails against the little boy’s hair. Fenrir remembered this comfort from when he was just a little pup, Loki on one side of him and Angrboða holding him on her knee. His father seemed so happy with Angrboða and he knew that deep down, he still must even if she had been dead for centuries.   

“Fenny?” Sleipnir mumbled and Fenrir smiled, moving the hand in the boy’s hair down to his cheek to wipe away the tears, “do you think we’ll be a full family again?”  

That made Fenrir pause his motions of comfort. He wanted to have his full family, he wanted to meet his full family! However, they were banished to numerous places in the Realms. Loki wanted to find them all and bring them home, but it would take years to rehabilitate them all after so long of being on their own. The only reason Fenrir was only slightly insane was that he held onto a memory of his family. The others, he’d wager, didn’t have strong memories of family.  

“I want us all to come home, Sleipnir. Father deserves that much... we were all stolen from him so early and I know that he’s terrified it’ll happen again. Sleipnir, please promise me something... promise me that no matter what, you will always welcome our family home,” Fenrir looked down at his brother, who nodded and curled back into Fenrir’s embrace.  

Sleipnir didn’t even notice the storm outside the castle anymore, too busy enjoying the comfort that his biggest brother could give him. He knew that Fenrir was attached to him, wanting to protect him just as much as Loki did. Sleipnir was happy to have such loyal family members.  

Just outside the door, a proud parent smiled at the two of them and returned to his fiancée in bed. He was happy to have his family. Happy to have his fiancée.  Happy to finally, finally, be free.

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

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11

[yandere-wishes]

MONSTERS

👹 Yandere Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

👹Summary: Monsters aren’t born they're made, but Sukuna stumbles across the rare exception...

👹Warning: dehumanization, mention of gore, blood, slight dub-con mentioned in passing, death, past trauma, and abuse

👹 Edited: By the lovely @tealyjade-libran !

👹 Wordcount: 2,480

👹Alternative Tittle : If Roxanne ( from the Police song) lived in ancient Japan.

👹First Jujutsu kaisen fic! I hope you guys like it, please let me know your thoughts! Likes and reblogs appreciated!

Monsters were made. 

Slowly created as once blazing ideals, withered and died under harsh strokes of reality. Stitched together with broken promises and the ashes of rotting memories. 

Monsters were made

whisked into a role they once dreaded, once feared. Beaten into the role of the villain, the reprobate, the sinner. 

If anyone ever asked Sukuna when was the exact moment he turned his back on the laws of "good" and "evil", shedding his human skin to regrow a pelt of hate and destruction,

He would simply answer, "Never".

Because skin is skin no matter how much it decays. Even if the epidermis turns into a rotting orange shade, littered with eyeballs and teeth that shouldn't grow there.Even if the blood from all those he's slain has finally stained his dermis, tainting it in a permanent crimson that all the waters of Lake Biwa could never wash off. Even if his hypodermis is no longer made of fatty tissue but rather spiritual energy sucked from the atmosphere. It's still skin, the same old skin he was born with.

Sukuna had never shed his skin, he'd only perfected it, enhanced it, molded it into its perfect form, until he was no longer held back by foolish human limitations.

He'd never been "reborn" only recreated; only perfected. 

Spike, talon and teeth covered arms sprouting from oozing, bleeding scars, charred over by begriming infections that burned worse than the strikes he'd endured as a child. Knuckles and bones cracking over and over and over again until they grew as solid as the rocks that were thrown at him when he was all too little to understand the malice behind the insults and threats. Breaking until they could break no more, until they'd become strong enough to split a boulder with a mere flick.

There had come a time when he'd given up licking his wounds, leaving them to be kissed by the mold-covered worms who left an urticating sensation he'd soon come to associate with victory. Rotting flesh growing covered in thick layers of black tar tattoos that hid every cut he'd endured when he'd once been too weak. 

Monsters were created from quarter truths buried neck-deep in fables that snipped like red-eyed scorpions. 

Until the blood dancing through their veins was as black as the void they now called home. 

Sukuna knew the exact moment he realized he was a monster. The day he realized he liked the crunch of skulls beneath his feet, the pitiful spark in mortified eyes staring at the heavens for a scrap of mercy. Mangled mouths barely held together by fractured jaw bones, uttering prayers and pleas that died in the scorching air. 

Sukuna knew he was an abnormality, patched together by broken heirlooms and shattered family traditions. Sitting on a throne made from skulls of those who thought they could ever kill him. 

You can't kill a monster, for you can not kill that which was never born. 

You can't slay something made from good intentions with malevolent methods, something so vile that it might actually be pure. At the end of the day, no monster really admits that it is a monster, a nightmare that should have never existed. 

Yet...

Tattered hearts and cruel orbs are never quite enough. No monster is complete until they dive off that last edge, plummet into the sea of nothingness, and finally, finally break their souls on the spiked soil. Monsters, spirits, curses any malicious being that had been mended together like a half-done ragdoll was not complete until they truly let go. Until they erased all the former humanity that they had been born with. Until their eyes reflected nothing, no emotions, no malice, no want, no need. Just the absolute emptiness. 

The void in all its glory.

that was the symbol, the true markings of a real monstrosity. The void that took over their existence, that had replaced every inch of their former self. Only then could it be said that you were above all other beings, the true perfection of this world. 

There are worse things created than monsters, things that are made from nothing and everything. Things above "Yin" and "Yang". Things that have no scrap of humanity, monstrosity, or anything in them.

Things that are just empty.

So maybe -just maybe- that's why when Sukuna's rotting orange eyes landed on the epitome of emptiness, a...girl, whose face was sculpted to disreflect emotions and intents. Someone who was the void of darkness itself. The true personification of nothingness. 

His heart -for the first time in countless centuries- began to throb.

a truly dead face swarmed by a sea of buzzing ants, chasing their routine happiness. Smiles of delight and carelessness carved on their aging faces with sunlight knives and the melody of golden coins. The lust for life leaking from every pore of their bodies. 

With every face being a carbon copy of each other it was no wonder yours stood out.

There was a silver chain of attraction, dragging Sukuna towards the village girl. Not love, never love, the king of curses was beyond certain, that neither you nor he could feel such a honey-laced sensation. It was more like....something. Something paranormal, inexpiable. Some magnetic force outside of everything's control. 

It was easy enough to explain why he liked you. Why you stood out from the other insects of this middle-of-nowhere-village. 

You had dark matter for blood and dead seas for brains. 

Your eyes radiated an endless abyss. Making others shy away from your lifeless gaze. Scared to look into the void in fear that it may respond. 

You were a thrown away doll,

A living dead,

A dying star,

You were the daughter of the number zero,

The monster that had no maker nor mother. 

Something not born nor created. 

Just an entity that roamed the earth, with no desire nor hope, no wish nor dream. Not leaving, not dying, just existing in the space between today and tomorrow. 

There'd been no need for pleasantries, for hiding behind ghostly tree branches and frozen windows. There'd been no need to kill or ravage for you. No competition to eliminate, because no one ever came near you. Humans don't like what they can't explain, Sukuna knew that all too well. 

Sukuna watched from a close enough distance to almost touch. Lingering around like a phantom begging to be noticed. Orbs trailing over you, but never approaching. Until one day he'd just stood still. Waited for you to turn your head just a fraction to the left, just to see him in all his menacing terror. To finally notice the clawing, crawling sensation that had been creeping up your spine like a hoard of spiders. 

And when your dead eyes did finally land on him. Sukuna could swear that his breath hitched in his throat for the first time in his seemingly endless life.

You weren't human. Humans didn't have hollow faces or marbles for lips. 

You weren't a curse. Curses didn't lack venom dripping from their souls.

You were something better than a monster. You were the divinity of monstrosity, the void itself. Black holes for eyes, answerless paradoxes for hands, and an endless maze where your torso should have been. 

 Exploding suns danced around you, burning, burning, till they died out, leaving behind no trace that they once lit up the universe. 

The space after the end, that's what you were.

Perfect, to Sukuna you were perfect.

You hadn't run, hadn't screamed, hadn't even bothered to talk. You didn't care about him, couldn't care about him. That's what made him want you, made his mouth salivate with the thought of your flesh between his teeth. 

That night the world stood still, as Sukuna's claws penetrated your flesh like twirling needles. You were as light as a feather. You weighed nothing, were nothing. All so easy to pluck and throw about. You never made a noise when your body collided with the bamboo walls, just letting gravity and Sukuna play a twisted ball game with your lump of a body.

You hadn't protested when he violated you. As his lips bit every inch of your body raw. For some unearthly reason that even the gods couldn't understand, would never want to understand, you had found the Curse's violent actions rather...adoring. Taking every slap and slash with the earnest pride of a small child getting praised for a day of relentless chores. letting the dawn-tinted-haired monster adorn your body in blue and purple jewels. It felt right, in a  pathetically, nauseating, twisted way...it just felt right.

 It was disastrous, sure, but it was right. Like two universes crashing. Destroying each other with every kiss and every bruise. 

But...

For the first time in your meaningless life, you had truly understood what "happiness" felt like. 

For the first time in his endless life, Sukuna had truly understood what "intimacy" felt like.

///

Was it wrong to kiss you? For a fraction of a second Sukuna hesitated, blood tinged lips hovering millimeters away from your own stone-set ones. The moon's cursed rays acting like an unnoticed barrier, keeping two things out of each other's grasp. His lips curled back revealing two rows of knife-like teeth. The last resort, a final hope that you'd run away, that you'd act somewhat normal. The king of curses, the evil among men, didn't mind your lack of regularity. He didn't mind how you leaned into every bitter strike, every painful display of fading affection . He adored how you merely giggled as he slashed open your uncharged skin, creating slits for your blood to spill through, onto his waiting tongue. He admired your lifelessness, the way you radiated death. 

Oh, how you filled him with a startling aftershock every time he touched you. Every time his tongue lapped at your bleeding skin he'd feel the sort of electric shocks that came after the storms had passed. Your body had no shape, it molded to his touch, turning his favorite shades of red, with just a little pressure. 

But sometimes, in fleeting, endless seconds. He wished he had a name for what you two were. You weren't his per se, you could never be his. Being his would indicate that he cared about you, or heck even loved you and that could never be true. The king of curses did not love, nor care. He merely tolerated you; you fascinated him, that's all. 

It had been many moons since he first found you in that no-name village. Months upon months since you'd been by his side. You'd watched as he'd destroyed cities, helped him even. Eyes never shedding a single tear. Mouth never uttering a single protest. 

The two of you had become the best, the King of curses and the Queen of nothingness. With the dying speed of laboring bees, Sukuna had carved himself inside of you. Twisted emptiness into flower-covered destruction. Into molten gold lava. 

Leaving you with wounds that were stuck in a cycle of healing and opening. Until they began to harden like his. Until the need for spilled blood lingered on your tongue like the burn of boiled tea. Until under your nails were coated in a decaying crust of dried blood. Sukuna hadn't turned you into a monster, he'd simply showed you the powers that came with your apathy. With a heart as torn and cold as yours, it was a shame to let it go to waste. 

"You're not half bad," his tone is never approving. It's always laced with a strictness that keeps you nailed into place. His words are oxymorons sounding like praise, but once you peel back the lather layers they're just taunts in disguise. 

You don't answer, words die on your tongue as quickly as they are born. Sukuna can't even remember what your voice sounds like outside of small whispers in heat filled nights. 

 However, to the two of you, things like that didn't matter. Your lack of being even semi-alive and Sukuna's endless abuse had become a norm for the two of you. Where else were a two-faced monster and a lifeless girl going to find love anyway? 

Sukuna was all you had, all you ever had. You'd die for him, kill for him, turn into anything for him. Because he gave you life. 

A purpose to life, made out of raging fires and endless screams. A life fabricated from the pain and suffering of others. That was what the king of curses had given you, all wrapped in a human skin parchment. Maybe that's why all logic withered away the first night he kissed you, maybe from the first second that you sensed his presence you had finally gained a reason to be alive. 

///

Whoever said the end of the world was beautiful? Whoever said the final days would be bright and glowing and pure? 

It's just a blaze of stray flames and red crystal droplets that may or may not be your blood. Funny, Sukuna had always thought that your blood would be as black as the moonless sky, not a mundane red like everyone else's. He'd expected a grander death from you. Some sort of black hole opening to swallow the world whole. Not just another corpse motionless in a pool of their own blood. 

Although he's not one to talk. His own 'death' is lingering on the horizon. Sukuna's head tilts back looking for the flashing jujutsu sorcerers. 

"S-sukun-a..." 

He smirks, fangs sticking out at odd angles. Your voice is sweet, for the first time in forever he'd even dare say it held some semblance of emotion. 

What that emotion is, he doubts he knows or even really cares. He'd long since stopped trying to identify all those "feelings" and their associated names. 

His orange eyes lock with your fading orbs, one last time. No, not the last time, just the final time in this lifetime. He's sure he's going to see you again. In any other life, Sukuna knows he'll be able to recognize you despite whatever flesh suit you'd be wearing. 

"Shh little one," he's halfway gone before he finishes his sentence, leaving you to relish in his memory in your final moments. "We'll see each other once more, someday in another life..."

His four eyes lock on the approaching sorcerers. He finds it humorous how desperate they look. How alive and ready they seem, such a stark contrast to your ever lifeless face and dead eyes, it repulses him. 

"Or maybe in one of the circles of hell." 

The flames encircling his fingers remind him of the heat your body radiated in the dead of night. The crack from bones hum as they meet his knuckles, flash memories of your days wasted together doing nothing and everything. 

The two of you will meet once more, he's sure of it. After all...

Monsters never die. 

How could something that was never even born in the first place, ever die?

[chokemeanakin]

A Reason to Stay

Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader (angst)

Masterlist

Wc: 1.6k

So I’m not open about this kind of stuff, and I never wanted to bring it to my blog because it’s supposed to be my safe & happy space. But I was struggling really bad last night, and I just got to writing (it’s my coping mechanism), and this was the result. I wasn’t going to post it, but then I thought it might help some other people going through tough times as well. So please, read the warnings and if you’re not comfortable with it then don’t read it. I only have good intentions, but I understand that this could be triggering for some people.

Again, if you’re a mutual that regularly reads and reblogs my work, please don’t feel obligated to this time. It covers very sensitive topics so only read if you’re okay with it.

WARNINGS (please read!)- sad reader, depressed reader, mentions of suic!dal thoughts, and mental health struggles

Prevention hotline for all countries

(Gif from @haydenchristensengifs )

Sometimes, it all got to be too much. The thoughts would trickle in like a slow snowfall, and then the clouds would come and the wind would pick up and suddenly there was a whole tempest, the sun blotted from the sky and your mind swarmed in darkness. It was as if you were suffocating beneath heaps of snow, although you couldn’t feel the cold. You were numb, unfeeling, but deep in the core of your body, your soul screamed in agony.

Even just showering was difficult. On this particular day, you managed to get yourself in to clean up, but found tears dripping down your face halfway through, mingling with the warm spray. As soon as you realized you were crying, it was as if the monster inside of you broke free. It burst through the prisons that you had so desperately chained it up in, and began to devour you whole. Your throat closed up, chest squeezing, limbs aching, as the pain claimed every inch of you.

Why did you have to be like this? Why couldn’t you just be normal? You didn’t understand why you had to feel this way, why you had to hurt so much. It was all too overwhelming, and you struggled to see the point of trying anymore if this is all it got you.

You turned the shower knob, cutting the water off before you accidentally stayed in there for hours. Your eyes stared blankly ahead as you got dressed, wrangling the demon back down, building over it, locking it back up. But tonight was a bad night. You could feel it, the hopelessness of it all clawing at you in the back of your mind.

Thoughts popped into your head, and they provided some relief. And then they started to scare you. What were you thinking?

You had two choices, and it could really go either way. One, you could listen to that demon and follow along that dark path, and see just where it could take you. Maybe it would provide an escape from the crippling pain inside you, release you from your prison and give you that sweet relief you could only dream about.

Or, you could get help.

That option didn’t seem as pleasing to you, but you didn’t want to give in to the darkness. It pulled at you, but something stronger pulled you out of that bathroom and into Anakin’s room.

He was putting his uniform away in his dresser when you walked in, shaking and crying, and hugging yourself so hard you were sure to leave bruises on your sides. He turned as he sensed you, face immediately falling as he took in your state.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You stood in his doorway, crumbling beneath the weight of his gaze. It had taken so much strength and courage for you to come to him— this was you admitting you needed help, admitting that you wanted to keep fighting the darkness. Now, you put your trust in Anakin that he would help you the rest of the way.

“I just... can you just...” you weren’t sure what you were asking. You just needed him to be there.

He understood.

Anakin rushed over and threw his arms around you, rocking you back and forth on the spot. He hugged you so tight to his body that you could hardly breathe, and just for a moment his warmth chased the demon away.

His arms were strong and he smelled of soap. He had just taken a shower too, and his sleep clothes were soft against your cheek. You closed your eyes and clung to him tightly, your crying becoming uncontrollable.

“What hurts, baby?” his tone was hushed, thick with concern. He could sense the waves of pain rolling off of you, but couldn’t find any wounds.

“Everything. It hurts so bad,” you sobbed. Your breath shuddered, and you buried your face further into his chest, voice muffled as you added, “I can’t do it anymore.”

Anakin’s heart wrenched as he held your trembling body. He wanted to move you to the bed, but he was afraid you would crumble to the ground. Whatever was hurting you, he could tell it was terrible, and he wanted nothing more than to take the pain away.

“Anakin,” you sobbed again. You couldn’t force any more words out, but the broken sound of his name tumbling from your lips screamed your message loud and clear. Help me.

“Shhh, I’m here. You’re okay. Nothing’s going to hurt you,” Anakin rubbed a hand up and down your shuddering back. His cheek rested against the top of your head, hushing you over and over as you broke apart in his arms. Talk to me, he wanted to say, but he was almost certain that would only make it worse. Tell me what you need.

By the way you melted into his body, your fingers digging into his flesh, he already knew the answer. You just needed him to hold you for now, to remind you what being warm felt like, what being alive felt like. And it was working. The thoughts that had been barraging you, telling you that you were worthless and that nobody would care if you were gone began to hush in time with his strokes. Even with the demon now wrangled into its cage, the aftershocks of its pain remained. You had thoroughly scared yourself, and the crying would not let up.

You’re not sure when Anakin managed to relocate you to the bed. One minute you were standing in the doorway, the next he had pulled you into his lap on the bed, keeping you buried into his chest with a hand to your head. His other hand massaged soothing patterns into your back, grounding you from the swirling tempest inside.

Coming to him was the right choice. You’re not sure where you would be right now if it weren’t for him, and you’re not sure you could survive another round of this if he wasn’t there to hold you through it in the future.

“Please don’t leave me,” you begged, the thought of being alone again frightening you. You didn’t mean just now— you meant ever.

“I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

“Do you mean it?” you pulled back, looking at him through tear-brimmed eyes. “You have to promise. I can’t do this alone.”

“I promise. I love you.”

Those words. They punched a hole through your heart, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. Your throat released a strangled whimper as your fists tightened on his shirt, a fresh wave of tears gushing from your eyes. Anakin released a hand to hold your face, wiping them away as fast as they dripped down your cheeks.

“Please, Y/n, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You knew your next words were going to hurt him. But you couldn’t hold the burden on your own shoulders anymore— he deserved to know why you were acting this way, and the only way he could help was if he knew the full extent of your torments.

“I just need a reason to stay.” Your voice came out weak, broken. You could feel his chest hitch, a cold fear trickling down his spine.

You couldn’t mean...

“I’ll be your reason,” his answer was immediate. His panic resurfaced, tears pricking at his eyes as the full realization of what you meant sunk in. How had you been keeping this a secret from him for so long? How had he not noticed?

He had let your pain slip right past him, right under his nose, this whole time. He had failed you, and now he had to make sure he never let you go again.

“You asked for a reason. Y/n, let me be your reason.”

His heart thundered against his chest. Each beat called out for you— Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go. How could he take your pain away? How could he make it all better? Would his promise be enough to save you?

You gasped through another round of sobs, forehead falling against his collarbone. The pain in his voice— you hated putting him through it. But it was helping, his words were helping, and you clung to each syllable like they formed a lifeline.

“I won’t ever leave you, but that means you can’t ever leave me. Deal?” He needed you to look at him, to know you were hearing his words, and that he meant them. He waited until you could breathe again, and then brought your face back up to meet his. His eyes burned bright with a fierceness you had only ever seen when he was on the battlefield. Behind that, they shone with the tears of an intense, desperate fear.

“Y/n, you have to stay.”

Anakin was begging you, just like you had been begging him. The weight in your heart was still there, but your resolve cracked. You nodded. You would stay another day, another night, another everything as long he asked you to. He was enough— he would be your reason.

And while this was not the end of the darkness, or any battle for that matter, it gave you hope— you did not have to fight alone anymore. When you could not find the strength inside of yourself to go another day, he was more than willing to give you some of his. One thing was made certain, the silent promise ringing loud and clear between your shaking breaths and the beat of his resolute heart— he was never letting you go.

Endnote:

This was super personal for me to put on here, so please be nice about it. Also, I do not intend to convey the message that a boy’s love can save you. I just wanted to write about how it’s okay to get help, and sometimes that help is having another person be there for you. That being said, you shouldn’t rely on another person as your sole source of happiness forever, but if that’s what you need to make it another day, then do it.

If you’ve made it this far, then know that I love you and you’re not alone, no matter how alone you feel. My messages are always open, and I’ll be right here if you ever need a reason to stay. ❤️

[foxanonforneon]

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

I made the story with just two random lighthouse operators and @neonthewrite 's character, Chase. I used the picture above as a prompt.

Please have a good read. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!! :>

Warning: This contains catboy, fearplay, angst, mention of eating people/hard vore, and dehumanization of a person.

If you are uncomfortable with any of these things mentioned, you may pass this now.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Viewer Discretion is Advised.

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

It is that time of night again, where the seaside is calm and the night is dark as burnt charcoal, with pretty stars in the sky as if it were an artist's canvas.

The seaside playing Mother Nature's music playing for anyone willing to listen was interrupted by two forms, one with a gruff exterior with a purpose in his stride, the other timidly but quickly following close behind the older man.

The two of them came out here for a purpose, the purpose needed and only could be done in the cylindrical, white tall building near the shore of the coast.

"S-Sir, are the rumours true?" the new operator's voice quivered as he got his query out. The voice soft enough that it could be mistaken for the wind.

"What?" the older man huffed with a sharp raspy voice, looked sceptically at the newcomer with a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

"I dunno what yer' talking 'bout boy, once we get to the top o' this place," he waved his hand lazily to the lighthouse, "ye' can tell me what ya mean." The operator looked at the newcomer expectantly as he presumed to walk to his desired destination.

As the younger of the two was unparalysed from the uneven gravel, both of the occupants in the vicinity felt a slight vibration from under their feet. It was barely noticeable as they stepped foot into the building.

As the seasoned lighthouse operator took his time up the winding stairs, the newcomer felt, off. Like the lighthouse suddenly dropped in temperature. Uneasy. Darker than usual in the room containing the giant flashlight. He felt a pit in his stomach with a mix of butterflies, a different contrast to the older operator, who seemed to be at ease.

As the top of the lighthouse drew closer in the operators' eye line, the newcomer felt tremors and heard the gravel underneath but brushed it off as someone having a late night dip and kept it in mind to question why were their steps so heavy, it when he calmed down and got settled.

Unfortunately, those thoughts vanished as he watched in astonishment as the elderly man took the two foldable chairs from the flashlight and plopped them down in front of it, near its sides, at an age that that would be a problem to do at that speed.

As they settled into their seats, the tremors and crunch of gravel came to a steady halt. The older man then stared at the younger one intently and curiously as to proceed with his queries.

The younger took this as his cue to speak. "Sir, did you not hear the rumors about the monster, that creeps around these parts, of the coast at this time of night?" the newcomer spoke as he looked around skitishly.

His posture hunched over fearfully as it looked like his spine was about to jump out of his skin. The older man took the information he was given into consideration. He stared at the flashlight, moonlit enough to make out its shape, as he hummed in deep thought.

"No, I don' recall any rumors 'bout a monster round these parts, guess ya coul' describe it fer me?" the older operator gestured softly to the other, so they could calm their own nerves. He leaned back and loosely crossed his arms as to indicate that he was all ears.

"I-I heard that it has very dark fur, from w-what I heard from some p-people, they say b-black or dark gray. They s-say that the monster has teeth longer than the tallest h-human being and it has claws that can reduce trees to nothing but a pile of sawdust! Very few people say it has the eyes of an apex predator!" The younger operator explained fearfully, his body quaking from fear.

"And? Do ya know wha' it does or eat fer that matter, if you want ta keep explainin'?" The seasoned operator asked as he gently cupped the newcomer's palms in his own to aid his worries about this 'monster'.

"I-I've also h-heard that it goes a-around looking for p-people that are by th-themselves and it-" the young operator quickly stopped and stared as the other got up quickly with a huff.

"You continue talkin'. I'm listenin', am jus' gonna operate these lights an' make sure people git home safely." He said as he quickly glanced back at the young operator, as he strode over to the back of the huge flashlight. "Ye might wanna wear t'e sun glass, y'er...whatever t'ey called." He said trying to identify the object with a hint of annoyance. Again, the unknown tremors started but weren't heavy enough to notice from the top of the tower.

"Oh, yeah, as I-I was saying, it m-maybe kidnaps the people t-that are by themselves, s-since I haven't seen those people a-again and the only way to get to the next t-town is by c-car or bus, some of the people gone, don't have enough money f-for that, or maybe it eat-" The younger of the two snapped his mouth shut as he covered his ears shut, a reflexive motion, from the loud ringing in his ears.

What he didn't expect, was that the seasoned operator had a cross and annoyed look on his face. His pale skin allowing his emotions to be seen in the glowing moonlight. What he really didn't expect, was the monster chasing the bright beam of light, and mostly likely causing the source of the tremors before and now, like a kitten.

As the monster continued to chase the light around like a cat on catnip, an idea popped into the young operator's head. He rushed over to the giant flashlight, shoving the seasoned operator away as gently as he could, as he used his strength to turn the beam of light towards the ocean of the cliff side.

As the older man was about to bark out an order to stop turning the flashlight, it was already too late as the blur of fur(presumed as the monster) fell off of the cliff and into the freezing ocean with a loud yowl of distress, followed by a splash, which sounded closer to cat more than anything. Making sure there was no movement from the over the cliff side, the young man turned to check on the other operator. "See sir! That was the monster I was talking about from the rumors, it is real...Holy shit, it's actually real and I stopped it!" Assuming the monster didn't know how to swim, why would it? There's plenty of people to eat on land!

He then quickly turned off the flashlight to make sure the beast didn't find its way back to land.  Who knows how much damage to the nearby village it can cause.

When he held out his hand out to the shaken officer to give him a lift. Otherwise, the seasoned one didn't seem too pleased with what he had done.

"Sir...Di-d I do something wrong??" As the young operator checked over the experienced other, looking for any outward signs of damage. The younger one of the two, energy drained from a chain broken from his schedule, looked as if he were to pass out, adrenaline looking as if keeping them from doing just that.

The gruff operator took the hand's invitation, steadily but not in a way that was anything but pleased.

"No, not really." He quickly huffed as he took to a stand. "Then, sir, what have you gotten your mind? I also need to ask out of curiosity, do you have a cat or is there any in vicinity? I haven't seen any coming all the way out here." The newcomer asked pure curiosity and a sheepish smile appearing on his face. If observed carefully in the moonlight, the older man could barely make out a faint tint of pink, in the moonlight, on the other's cheek. He's embarrassed.

If the other saw his face completely, he didn't mention it.

Meanwhile faint splashes and rumbles came from the direction of the ocean as the gruff man began to answer the other's question. "Nothin', just," he paused as he turned to the direction of where the gigantic being pounced off, the scene replaying in his mind. Then derailing his train of thought, he resumed, "that damn cat is back, but no, there isn't a cat 'round here, a' least one that I know o'." He stormed off in annoyance towards to the flashlight as to get it on again with the scowl on his face directed at no one.

The younger operator gaped at the other in complete confusion and bewilderment. If there is a cat that returned, why would he go ahead and tell me there isn't one right after? "T-then sir! How is there a cat when their isn't one??? I-I don't.." he trailed off but quickly spoke up again with a high pitched squeak, "What, does he get into the garbage cans?" As he got out his question, his posture quickly changing from one of fear to uncertainty so quickly that if you blinked, you would of missed it.

The distant tremors were getting closer now, and if focused intently, they felt and sounded like footsteps. After some time, the pace slowed to a halt. As that noise stopped, another started, which could be identified as someone pawing a tuft of grass. With the sound and surface known, there must be a place where it is identified, which directs the younger operator's eyes to where the beast threw itself off.

"I'm afraid not, but aye, keep watchin' the cliff fer the cat to climb back up, I'm gonna try fix this thing." The older man barked the command as he tried getting the flashlight back on.

"What am I supposed to be watching for, si-" Before he got the question, awe and shock kept him shut and began to override his thoughts as he's trying to process what he's seeing.

The claw of the monster, dug into the dirt of the cliff and pulled itself up. Following after the first claw, was another which pulled what seemed like a head of soaked, black hair with black cat ears on top to match.

A deafening whine and deep growl slightly shook the lighthouse to its core, as the rest of the beast tried pulling itself unto the cliff.

The operator had time to process that the beast had clothes. So far, a red jacket with a gray shirt underneath, reflecting as much light as the moon allowed. Apparently, the seemingly intelligent beast, moved faster than the operator had expected from such a large being, that when it moved, his brain was trying to figure out what the blur of fur was, not if it had any human emotions of its own. His eyes widened as he saw the beast express human emotion through the growls it was making, like it was talking to itself. Frustrated. Distressed.

If the operator could open his eyes any wider, they might fall out of their sockets, as he stared in awe as more parts of the beast rose over the cliff's side. The beast looked so, humane yet the young man's mind couldn't comprehend that the beast, itself, is absolutely massive. Trying to take in details of this being all at once while it's crawling on all fours, while quickly coming closer, getting away from the edge, and flashing the water off like a dog trying its best to get dry,  isn't working.

About one hundred meters from the lighthouse's base, the seasoned operator kicked the giant flashlight once more, this time turning the light on, snapping the awestruck operator out of his trance, while directing the beam unto the beast which shielded its eyes from the sudden brightness that laid upon it while it let out a whine and quickly shielded its eyes.

The flashlight shining its brightest, clearly showed what or who the young operator was looking at. "You're posed be watchin' fer the cat." The seasoned operator spoke, words slicing through the silence like a sharpened knife, as if the silence itself were butter. The other operator lightly flinched at the words spoken out of the other's mouth as he turned around to acknowledge his presence.

Noticing how calm the older man was about the monster in the vicinity, he gave the man a puzzled and skeptical look as for the man to explain himself.

The gruff man sighed, as he saw the look on the other's face, like he's been caught stealing a pie from a kitchen window and forced to apologise. Taking slow steps to inch his way beside the younger man, the older started to explain his calm attitude towards the titan so close to the lighthouse. "NOPE, as you can see, there is no cat and I know fer sure, that there is no monster nei'er. I know fer sho' that that manegy bein' on the other side of this lighthouse, ain't eaten' a single person nor has tried to, since I'm here."

As the seasoned operator paused to think, he looked at the young operator who looked to have a face that didn't show any emotion, just a blank stare.

The beast movement caught the operator's eye in the bright beam the flashlight seemed to cause. At least now the young man could make out what the beast looked like.

Curled up on the ground, the beast seemed to have a humane figure of a short, skinny man, if put at the right scale, would be smaller than his five foot, six inch frame. The beast itself slowly unfurled itself, keeping its eyes shielded and squinting towards the beam directed towards it. That didn't stop the young operator from picking up its features he hadn't seen yet.

Like its dark gray sclera around its pupil as it-...he's trying to adjust his eyes to the sudden brightness. The beast's olive sun kissed skin, appeared to have a silky texture other than a few healing bruises visible on its body. The rest of the articles, of clothing, seemed to replicate a pair of black boxers fitting snugly around his waist and upper thighs.

As he saw before a loose, gray shirt underneath a thin, dark red sweater, reaching from the collarbone of his neck to the bottom of his waistline, covering his unmentionables. At last, the darkest but most outstanding feature of this beast was his soaked, fluffy, black tail, which seemed to convey the some emotion on this beast's face.

As those details got into the young operator's head, the beast let out a tiny(for its size), sneeze which, still shook the lighthouse. Recovering from the quick but sudden noise he made, he got on all fours as he crawled over as slowly as he could, while keeping his eye on both of the operators, intent not to scare them, especially the younger one out of the two.

Once he got close as he dared, he slowly sat on his knees to stare back at the people who watched him with awe and ease. Both at eye level, staring hesitantly, as if waiting for him to do something. Hesitantly, he returned the stare, with a look of curiosity for the newcomer then looked at the seasoned operator questioningly as if he would tell him about this new person staring at him and why he's there.

This new person quickly looked to the gigantic one staring at him curiously then to the other operator who looked slightly annoyed at the titan outside, yet the man looked so at ease.

"Hey! Quit scaring all the new workers away! We've got business to do at this time o' night!" The older operator scolded the titan as if it were a small toddler. The only thing keeping both of them separated, is the movable, giant glass screen in front of them and the beast holding back its unimaginable strength. Surprisingly, the beast didn't make any move of hostility towards the building, but he let out a low whine and a look of shame as if he didn't know his presence should have people gone running with a glimpse of his shadow.

"S-Sir, what does i- he want??" The young operator stuttered out his question in fear as the beast turned his eyes to observe his quivering frame with, corcern?

"I think he wants ya ta r'deem yer self innocent. Or somethin', I don't know.." The seasoned operator said with a light teasing in his tone as he gently pushed the new operator to the window. As the young operator got close enough to window without getting hit, the older man opened the window, pulling it from the inside, a gentle night's breeze flowing in.

The young operator glanced back at the gruff man with worry, showing clearly on his face, as he turned back to the beast watching him outside. Taking his time, he got to the edge of the open window making sure the beast didn't do, something...terrifyingly, horrendous. Instead, he was just watching the man inch forward, carefully wary of him, with curiosity and excitement.

As the frightened operator leaned out far enough to see over the beast's cat ears, his stomach dropped. He realized too late that he was being lifted up by bigger than some tree trunk sized, fingers. Which were surprisingly gentle and barely put any pressure on his back, and his waist. It wasn't as painful he thought it would be in the beast's pinched grip, he didn't leave any bruises on the his body as was he gently placed him in the middle of his cupped palm, not realising he was shrieking the whole time, until his feet touched the warm but soft surface.

Which he gradually stopped, as he tried to focus on the white noise in his head. Trying to focus on a certain noise, he turned his head to the lighthouse, presumably, where it was coming from. Looking down at the window where was at mere seconds ago, the seasoned operator was firmly waving his arm at the beast and commanded him to give the young operator back to him, but the beast deliberately ignored him to focus on the young operator in his hand.

As he mentally noted that, he tried to figure the other sound out. It not only came from underneath him, but it enveloped the entire direction his backside was facing. He quickly spun to face the direction of the sound to confirm his theory, which was correct. The noise came from the beast's throat and vibrated through its whole body, which was identified as a loud purr.

Once identifying the sound and its source, the operator's head hung from vertigo of the sudden ascent from the beast's midsection to his face. Identifying his transportation's sudden break, the operator begged, with tears in his eyes, to the beast to not put him in his dark, humid cavern, presumably his huge mouth.

Upon hearing the pleas, begs and cries, the beast let out a sharp chirp of surprise and a high pitched whine of guilt, tears almost forming at the corner of his eyes, his thoughts playing on repeat on what people thought he was, a mindless beast. A freak. A feral man-eater. A monster. He quickly brushed those thoughts away in hope of trying to calm the weeping, shaking mess of the man, that's still begging for his life, in the centre of his palm. On impulse, he quickly brought his hands to his cheek, trying to hug the operator long enough for him to calm down.

The seasoned operator kept an eye on the beast with baited breath, watching to make sure the newcomer was unharmed in the titan's clutches.

Maybe the beast was toying with him when he started purring again, but the young operator wasn't wet nor fighting for his life against a giant muscle, so he took it as a good sign to open his eyes and maybe calm down. His bloodshot red eyes cracked open, glancing around trying to identify the pitch black area with only a few beams of moonlight coming from above loose fingers. He then spread out his arms in front of him, hands being met with the resistance of skin, pushing and kneading into the unknown area of flesh in front of him.

After pushing it for sometime, the beast's pulled his hand away to bring it back down to the lighthouse's window, where the gruff operator patiently waited for his return. Halfway there, he hesitated. He then quickly brought up his hand up to bridge of nose, to, by the looks of it, nuzzle the operator in the form of an apology.

The operator seeing the beast's ears flattened on his head with the heavy regret and guilt in his eyes, was taken back how he made a titan, a being with immeasurable power, more than enough to destroy cities and end people's lives, if he wanted, apologise(without speaking) for nearly scaring him to death.

After he got his bearings together, the beast saw this and briskly put the young man back into the room, but not before giving him a sloppy, gentle lick on his side, spiking the side of his hair into the air being held by nothing but, much thicker than usual saliva.

The seasoned operator took the other into his arms, bridal style, relieved that the beast outside didn't do any lasting damage to the person sitting limply in his arms. He looked into the operator's eyes but all he could see, was no emotion. Just a blank stare off to who knows where. "Tha' was quite scary, wasn' it?" the older man asked, snapping the other out of whatever thoughts he had. He wouldn't admit it to himself but, he'd almost passed out from when those giant, gray eyes first landed on him, and the only thing keeping him awake at that time, was awestruck adrenaline.

"Yes, sir, that was, terrifying but, also, exciting, to say the least." The young man admitted, shock on his face, directed at no one. He had time to process the rollercoaster of the events that just happened to him in the span of under half an hour.

The seasoned operator walked back over to the unlit flashlight preparing himself to have a hard time turning it back on again.

While all of this is happening inside of the lighthouse, the rumbles of kneefall, were coming from the beast skirting around to get the back of the lighthouse. Most likely to get out of the workers' hair, metaphorically.

Once the young operator got up to help the seasoned one to help to get to back to work, the beast idly watched them to make sure it worked. Not for that reason only, but also to reassure himself that the younger operator is okay, keeping in mind that he caused enough trouble for himself, and he would leave when the two workers got the flashlight on.

Within seconds, it did.

So with a couple rumbles in the earth, he pushed himself to a steady stand to get himself ready to go back home. What he didn't expect, was the young operator shouting a "Hey!" at him so suddenly, it was enough for him to flinch. Whipping his head to the direction of the top of the lighthouse tower, his eye fell upto the operator with the older one in tow. Seeing this for himself, he slightly turned to have a better view, letting out a quiet chirp of question and surprise to the one addressing him.

"Uhhhhhh," the younger operator bowed his head as he got the beast's full attention, "you don't have to leave if you don't have a place to stay. You can stay here, please don't leave here forever because of me!" The younger man projected as he looked up to see shock on the beast's face in the dim moonlight.

"Do you have a home?" the younger operator asked, voice watery, scared of the answer he might receive. To his relief, the beast nodded and gave a chirp of approval but went ahead to take a quick step away, thinking that he's overstaying his arrival. Before the young man could get out of the beast's vision, he shoved a hand at the beast in the form of a handshake.

Before realising how stupid the action looked, the beast came over, slowly crouched behind the lighthouse and gently took more than half of the arm between his thumb and index finger, making sure to not add any pressure to the limbs between them. The beast appreciating the gesture nonetheless, purred the whole time, content that the operator gave him a second chance and even wanted him to stay.

As the beast let go of the arm, he gave out another short purr as he turned and left to go wherever home was. The young operator watched him go until he was just another shadow in the dark sky.

He couldn't wait until he came again because he the only monstrous thing about the legend's beast, was only his size.

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

The End

@neonthebright

@nightmares06

@borrowedtimeandspace

[greekgeek21]

Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - hurricane percy hits vegas

EEE! I'm so excited for this chapter, and idk why. We get some Poseidon content tho, so yay for that! I'm pretty sure I'm just so excited cuz I just finished writing ch. 12 and IT. IS. AMAZING!!

Ok, so if you've noticed the change in my profile pic, you can figure out what I'm about to do. Well...surprise! Another pjo stan is coming out! I'm pan🏳️‍🌈✨

Anyway, remember to comment, like, follow me, and reblog! Stay safe and happy reading!

- your author

Ω ♆ Ω

Okay, so maybe jumping out of the window before Blackjack was within a hundred feet was a bad idea, but can you really blame him? If Percy had stayed, the others would have tried to convince him to wait and make a plan before leaving to save Annabeth, and it probably would've worked! But doing that gave her captors more time to hurt her. That was not okay with him.

Fortunately, his amazing pegasus could fly really fast when put in the right situation. Say, one like Percy freefalling from a skyscraper? He still cut it close, though. Percy got within six feet of the ground before Blackjack swooped up under him. It hurt like hades.

"What am I here for, boss? Not that I don't enjoy our hang-out sessions, but still, why am I here?" Percy heard Blackjack ask in his head.

"We're going to Vegas to save Annabeth. She's been taken by the people we've been hunting," he answered.

"Oh, no! I'll go into overdrive for this trip! Annabeth gives me donuts!"

If one looked closely, they would see that Percy cracked a small smile at that. Blackjack always knew how to lighten the mood.

"Just hurry, bud. They sent pictures of her tied up and beaten. I'm not sure what condition she'll be in when we get to her," Percy said.

"That's it! These guys are dead meat!" Blackjack sped up even more.

Percy was really afraid to look down because he was pretty sure that they had already passed four state lines, and his friend showed no signs of letting up. With all the complaining about being tired Blackjack did on their other quests, Percy would've never thought he could do this. Just goes to show what can happen when you hurt someone's friend.

Yeah, Percy had calmed down enough to rationalize that this was a stupid idea (maybe his worst one yet), but he was still going to do it! This was Annabeth we're talking about! There's nothing he wouldn't do for her, and that includes storming straight into that gods-forsaken casino and demanding to know where she was.

If you're wondering, yes, he did just that when they got there. Blackjack almost passed out as soon as they landed, but Percy was already hopping off and running in before the pegasus had even caught his breath.

"Get out of here, bud! This is gonna get messy!" he called over his shoulder before pushing the front doors of the Lotus Hotel and Casino open.

Ω ♆ Ω

It was very clear that something was wrong as soon as Percy stepped into the lobby. It was completely empty. The farther he went in, the less he found. There was nobody. The last time he had been there, it was packed with people from all different time periods and everyone was doing something, but now, nothing.

It was disconcerting, to say the least. It felt like the beginning to every horror movie out there.

What was worse, is that every activity was shut down but one: the ferris wheel. It was spinning with all of the lights on, a faint carnival music playing from hidden speakers. Once again, Percy's thoughts drifted to horror movies. He wouldn't be surprised if a ghost popped up in front of him.

Before he continued on, Percy stopped and took a breath, bouncing up and down to shake out the nerves, "Come on, Percy. You got this. Just go save Annabeth and get out. That's all there is to it."

He walked up to the ferris wheel and saw that there was a single occupant riding it: Annabeth. She was up on the top, but Percy would recognize those golden locks anywhere. Her form was slumped against the side of her car, so she was probably unconscious. As she got closer to the ground, Percy saw that she was even more beaten up than the picture had shown. Her hands and ankles were bound with celestial bronze chains and she had a gag in her mouth.

Percy's blood boiled.

"Annabeth!" He shouted, running towards her as soon as the cart got to the bottom.

It kept moving, but he quickly grabbed her and pulled her off and away from the ride.

"Annabeth, wake up. Come on, 'beth, you have to be okay," he muttered, pulling the gag out of her mouth and starting to work on the chains, though he wasn't sure where to start.

Her eyes were still closed, but he heard a faint whisper from her mouth say, "It's Annabeth."

He laughed in relief, pulling her to his chest in a tight hug.

"Don't ever do that to me again. I lost it," he said, kissing her on the forehead.

Her eyes slitted open, "No promises, Seaweed Brain."

Percy was about to bring her in for a kiss when a voice interrupted them, "I'm glad you got to save her, Perseus. Now it'll be that much worse for you when we take her away again."

Percy shot up from the ground, pulling out Riptide and going into a protective stance in front of a kneeling Annabeth, "You're not going anywhere near her!"

The voice belonged to a mortal man. He had a long cut along his face, which seemed to be made by a claw, and his hair was a dark brown with speckles of grey. He seemed pretty average besides the scar. He had three men behind him, along with a hellhound, two empousa, and a couple basilisks. All looked ready to strike at a moment's notice.

The man tutted, "Oh, but I think I am. You see, you're going to give her to us."

Percy glared, "And what makes you think that?"

The man smiled, "Because of your family, of course. The normal one. Your mom, Sally, and her husband, Paul, and what's the last one's name...? The baby... Estelle! Yes, Estelle. We know where they are right now, and with one order from me, they will be killed by the giants we have standing by."

Percy growled, lunging forward, but a growl from the hellhound stopped him, "You're not going to touch them or Annabeth! I'll kill you first!"

The mortal leader gave a fake frown, "Oh, Perseus, how naive you are. Don't you see what's happening? Your people are the monsters. You just threatened to kill a mortal, the very thing you are put on this Earth to protect! How would your father feel about that?"

Hundreds of pipes burst in the hotel. Percy was only holding himself back because of Annabeth. As soon as she was out of danger, he would let himself go. He didn't care that they were mortals. Those men weren't the type of people he wanted to protect.

But- his family were still in danger. Even if the guy was bluffing, Percy couldn't take that risk.

Annabeth pulled herself to her feet and put a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Let them take me. You know it's the right thing to do. I'll be okay. You just need to lead the Avengers to their base, okay, and then you can save me all over again."

She cracked a small smile, hoping to comfort him but ultimately just making Percy feel worse.

Percy pulled her in for a searing kiss, and when he pulled back, a defeated look in his eyes, Annabeth knew he was letting her go. She had to; it was the best solution. She could protect herself and the Blofis family couldn't.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," Percy's eyes were misty and he was slipping on his control.

With one last, loving look at her boyfriend, Annabeth walked to the opposing group, allowing them to roughly grab onto her and pull her to the hellhound, who was ready to shadow travel her and the other mortals to wherever their base was.

Percy steeled himself for a fight because he knew there was no way it was that easy. He was not getting out of this unscathed. They had left the monsters there for a reason, and that reason was to probably kill him. That wasn't going to happen, though. They had chosen the wrong day to mess with Percy Jackson. He was going to let Hades rain down on them.

"Are we gonna stand here all day or are we gonna fight?" he asked, twirling his sword around, "You know what? Nevermind. I don't feel like fighting."

Then before the monsters could react, he released the storm within.

Ω ♆ Ω

"Come on people! Let's get a move on!" Steve shouted, already running to the quinjet.

He saw that everybody was still lagging, but wasn't sure what else to do. Fortunately, Piper had noticed his struggle and came to his rescue.

"Everybody hurry up! We don't know what stupid thing Percy is going to do, so we need to get there before he does it!" she yelled, lacing lots of charmspeak with her words.

Instantly, all of the demigods and Avengers sped up and were all on the jet within a minute. Steve gave Piper a grateful glance before climbing in himself, the daughter of Aphrodite following close behind.

Once everyone had taken their seats, Natasha and Clint up in the cockpit, they took off.

"So...does anyone even know what we're going to do when we get there? Or what Percy was planning on doing?" Leo asked, voicing everyone's thoughts.

Steve sighed, "We can only do damage control. If Percy hasn't done anything yet, we talk him down from it. If he has, we figure out a solution to getting it stopped, no matter what it takes. Now we don't know Percy as well as you five, so we need you to try and predict what he might do."

The rest of the Seven shared a look and Jason spoke up, "Percy and Annabeth are very...special to each other. If one of them is hurt, the other loses control very easily. So, basically, anything could have happened."

He glanced apologetically at the Captain, who just sighed in response. It was no doubt going to be a long day, and then an even longer one when Fury found out about this. Going down that train of thought made him more and more exhausted.

"Las Vegas, here we come," Tony muttered.

Ω ♆ Ω

As they started entering the Las Vegas area, it became abundantly clear that they were already too late to stop Percy. The sky was dark, thunder rolling through the clouds, rain pouring down on the streets around the casino. A whirlwind of water was circling the hotel and the ground was shaking. Geisurs were popping up just as fast as they were closing. It was a shitshow, basically.

"Percy did this? By himself?!" Tony exclaimed, staring in shock at the storm.

"Yep. He doesn't seem like much of a kid now, does he?" Jason said, strapping an arm guard on.

"Nope," Tony whispered.

Frank said, "How are we even going to get inside?"

"We're going to go from above, straight through the eye of the storm. It's the only opening, from what I can see," Natasha answered, already guiding the plane up and towards the center of the destruction, "Hold on. This is gonna get rough."

"Oh. That's comforting," Frank muttered, holding on to his seatbelt tight.

"Dude, if we crash, you can just turn into a fly or something and get out of here, but me, I'm going to die with the plane," Leo said, cracking a joking smile.

Hazel sighed, "Leo, your fireproof. If anyone would survive the crash, you would."

Leo chose not to point out that he was trying to lighten the mood with a self-deprecating joke. Hazel with confidence is scary.

Besides, that's when the shaking started. The wind and water was throwing the quinjet around, thrashing it from side-to-side, trying to throw it down but Natasha and Clint were keeping it up.

Slowly but surely, they got the plane lower and lower until it was hovering just above the courtyard of the hotel (if you can even call it that). It was an open area with rollercoasters and games all around. The Avengers couldn't believe they hadn't heard of this place before! It was amazing! The demigods, however, were shocked that the mortals could even see what was around them. The Mist was either weakening (unlikely) or the Avengers were starting to become clear sighted (could be bad).

"Ok, everyone, get out before this thing crashes!" Natasha yelled, gripping the steering gear like a lifeline.

It probably wasn't even her demanding voice that got everyone off the jet quickly, but they did anyway. The demigods and Avengers found themselves huddled behind a concession stand while they surveyed the area. It was easier for the demigods, who could naturally see through the veil of Mist surrounding it. The Avengers' eyes were refocusing every couple of seconds because something like a stuffed bear would turn into a stuffed Minotaur and then back into a bear again.

"Stay close, team. We're in unknown territory," Steve immediately slipped into his leadership role.

"Do you guys see Percy?" Hazel asked, looking around for her friend with a worried expression on her face.

"Um...yeah, I do. Over there," Frank's hand pointed towards the ferris wheel, and everyone's eyes followed it's path.

It led directly to the center of the storm, just as they all secretly knew it would. Everyone wanted to believe their friend or colleague couldn't be capable of creating a "natural" disaster until it happens. Now the team was left to clean up the mess.

"Oh, great. This should be fun," Tony sarcastically commented, seeing that Percy's eyes were closed and he was just sitting there on his knees.

He wasn't even wet, or affected by the storm at all. It seemed to be molding around the boy. The cracks on the ground had even left him alone. Percy was a force of nature.

"How are we going to get to him, let alone make him stop all of this?!" Jason asked, raising his voice to be heard over the screaming wind.

"I don't think he'll hurt us. He let us come down with the plane. If it was anyone else, he would've let it tear apart, but not us. He wants us to help him, and we're going to do just that, okay?" Piper answered, standing up.

She still had to stabilize herself on the cart, but she kept herself up. Everyone else in the group still looked skeptical of her plan, if you could even call it that, but they followed her lead and stood up as well.

With a calm determination only a demigod could possess in the face of battle, she started the trek over to their friend. Percy didn't make a move, either not seeing them or not caring.

"Percy. Percy. Listen to my voice, Percy. Everything is going to be alright. You need to focus on my voice, Percy," Piper started to say even though the wind was carrying it away a second later.

They had to try everything, and given the fact that the wind seemed to slow down just a tiny bit, Piper took it as a win.

The Avengers and the rest of the Seven were making slow movement, their feet feeling like lead as they forced themselves to keep going. They were grabbing onto whatever was nailed to the ground for support as small tremors rocked the building. It was obvious there had been a different, major earthquake that had caused most of the damage, so they weren't complaining about aftershocks.

"Keep going! We're almost there!" Steve yelled, digging his shield into the ground for something to hold onto.

It took a long time for a short distance, but they eventually made it to right in front of Percy. He had still shown no sign of knowing they were there.

"Percy! Can you hear us?!" Jason shouted, grabbing onto his gladius that he had previously stabbed into the ground.

Still no movement, though a tear did fall down his cheek. It was the only water that had actually touched him so far. Everyone but him was soaked to the bone, while he had stayed completely unaffected. Jason kneeled down and tried shaking his friend, only to be pushed back by a blast of water.

While he was sputtering out the liquid, Tony said, "We need a new plan! This isn't working!"

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock! But do you see a plan laying around here somewhere, cuz' I don't!" Piper shouted.

That's when a sea breeze blew through the area and under their noses. Unlike the stormy sea smell that Percy was radiating right now, this one was calming and gave you the feeling of a relaxing day at the beach. Jason was the quickest one to realize what was happening, so he warned everyone else as quick as possible, "Close your eyes!"

The Seven followed his instructions without question, being used to this by now (plus Jason wasn't planning on nearly dying again). The Avengers, however, were a divided front. Natasha, Clint, and Steve all did as they were told, not willing to take a chance on Frank being wrong about whatever he was scared of. Tony and Bruce, did not. They looked around at Frank like he was crazy. Fortunately, they had turned enough so that when there was a blinding flash of light and a small pop, nobody had seen it full-on. What was left afterwards was a man in a hawaiian shirt and sandals. He had tan bermuda shorts and a beat-up old fishing hat with the words Neptune's Lucky Fishing Hat on it. But those weren't the most shocking features about the man. What was most shocking was his similarity to Percy. His skin tone, matching Percy's. His hair color, matching Percy's with only a few more grey spots. His eyes, matching Percy's without a doubt. Natasha was the first of the Avengers to come to the startling realization that this was Percy's supposedly missing-at-sea father.

He was completely unaffected by the storm swirling around them. Physically, at least. He seemed to be really worried about his son, and only spared a glance at the other befores crouching in front of Percy. He put his hands on his son's shoulders and gently shook him.

"Son, wake up," Poseidon said, "You have to stop this."

Percy made a groaning sound and slitted his eyes open. His arms were wrapped around his stomach in pain.

"Ow," he muttered.

Poseidon cracked a small smile, though his eyebrows were still furrowed in worry, "That's what happens when you create a tropical storm and earthquake in the middle of Nevada."

Percy's eyes shot open, "Dad?! What're you doing here?!"

Poseidon gave him a frown, "Making sure my son doesn't kill himself."

Percy grimaced, holding himself just a little bit tighter at the reminder of what was currently still going on around them.

"Percy, what were you thinking?!" the god of the sea exclaimed.

The boy knew he was in the wrong, so he just shrugged and gave his father a misty-eyed, helpless look, "I can't make it stop, Dad. What do I do?"

Poseidon sighed. Seeing how fragile his son was right now broke his heart.

"You can let me help. We'll stop it together."

Percy nodded, letting the deity help him to his feet and support him once he got there. Neither man spared a glance at the assembled group of heroes behind them, instead turning determined faces towards the storm.

"You focus on the earthquakes. I'll take care of the storm, Perseus," Poseidon said.

The son of the sea god nodded, kneeling down so he had his hands placed on the ground. He closed his eyes and focused; focused only on the shaking, and then imagined the shaking receding like the tide. Then, eventually, it stopped all together.

He felt a large weight be lifted off his shoulders at the feeling of his power pulling itself back inside of him. His father had made quick work of the storm, and now all that was left was a trashed mystical hotel and casino.

Percy turned back to father, and gave him a small, grateful, exhausted smile, "Thanks, Dad. And I'm sorry for letting it get so out of hand. I know better than that."

Poseidon grasped his son in a bone-crushing hug, "It's okay, son. I'm not one to talk. Remember San Francisco?" he turned to a whisper, "That was my own version of a temper-tantrum. Don't tell your Uncle Zeus, though. He'd skin me alive if he knew the real reason I did that."

Percy's smile widened just a bit, "Okay, dad. You can let me go now. This is getting weird. We don't do this. You're not even supposed to be here right now."

At first, that last thought was just a flippant comment, but now Percy realized just how much trouble he, or his father, could be in with Zeus because of this.

"Dad! You're not even supposed to be here right now! You have to go! Right now, before Uncle Z finds out!" he shouted, shoving himself out of the hug.

Poseidon laughed, "Persues, think about it. You just created a 7.1 earthquake in Nevada, while simultaneously making a category 5 hurricane pop up nowhere near the coast. I think he noticed. He was actually the one to send me. He thought I'd be the only way to calm you down."

He gave his son a meaningful glance, and he got a sheepish neck rub in return.

Poseidon sighed again, "It's okay. He's not too mad. He's actually pretty happy that it wasn't one of his kids this time."

The god finally turned and acknowledged the other people in the room, giving Jason a look. Jason didn't seem to know what to do with that. He just kinda stood there, in shock that he had been noticed by Neptu- Poseidon.

Frank and Hazel both kneeled, soon followed by the rest of the demigods. It seemed that everyone was still recovering from the storm, and wasn't sure what to do with the fact that Percy's dad (a literal god) just showed up and was speaking with their friend like they were best buds (or more accurately, father and son).

The Avengers were giving incredulous looks to everyone, even the superspies. Ok, so first, a random fisherman shows up, then they find out that the guy is actually Percy's father, and then dad helps stop a natural disaster. But that was all easier to process than the kids kneeling to Percy's dad. Like he was God or something!

"Um, is anyone going to explain what the hell is going on right now?" Tony asked, head whipping back and forth between the look-a-like father and son and the rest of the teens.

Poseidon turned to the billionaire with an amused smile on his face, "Anthony Stark. Nice to finally meet you. My nephew enjoyed your work."

Percy snorted, realizing just what nephew his dad was talking about. Of course Ares would like a weapons manufacturer.

Tony smirked, smug, "Well, thank you, random stranger. That means absolutely nothing coming from you because we have not yet been introduced. I'm Tony Stark."

Poseidon turned to his son, "I like this one. Very brave."

"Give it a minute," Percy said, "It'll pass."

Ignoring the billionaire's protests, Poseidon turned to the demigods assembled, "Rise, half-bloods. You have saved Olympus enough to not need to kneel to me."

They cautiously rose.

"Olympus? Half-bloods? What are you talking about? Who are you?" Natasha asked, narrowing her eyes at the stranger.

She didn't trust him. He radiated too much power, power that was too similar to Percy's for her liking.

"I am Poseidon, Percy's father and a couple other titles. You may call me Lord Poseidon," was the answer she got.

She raised her eyebrows. The guy had a strong god-complex. Though she had met Thor before, and he had one just the same. Maybe these were more Asgardians or something like that.

"What are you?" Clint asked, not realizing just how much he was pushing it.

Poseidon's gaze darkened, "Be careful how you speak to me, mortal. I am being very gracious right now."

"Are you implying that you aren't mortal? Like Thor?" Bruce spoke up, literally surprising everyone.

The fact that he had come along was a miracle in itself, and now he was speaking to this obviously-powerful man.

Poseidon's nose wrinkled in disgust, "Thor is nothing like me. He is no god."

Percy decided to break in before things could get out of hand again, "Ok! Dad, you should probably get going. You know, oceans to run and everything!"

Poseidon's shark-like glare softened for his son and he nodded. But before he could leave, he pulled Percy aside.

"Tell them. You have our permission," he said.

Percy smirked, "I think I got that from you throwing around words like 'Olympus' and 'half-blood,' Dad."

Poseidon turned serious, "Be careful in the near future, my son. You have a rough journey through the Sea of Monsters to rescue Ms. Chase. She is on Polyphemus' island. That is all I could gather for you. I hope it is enough to keep you alive. I know it would be a fool's errand to try and convince you to not go. Your fatal flaw prevents it."

"I'll be okay, Dad. I promise."

Poseidon noticed how he didn't swear it on the River Styx. So Perseus had just as many doubts about this quest as he did. He refused to lose another son, though.

Placing a hand on Percy's shoulder, he spoke one last time, "Just be careful, Percy. For me, if you must."

Percy nodded.

"Alright," Poseidon said, "Everyone close your eyes!"

This time, everyone, including the mortals, listened.

Once the light had died down, Percy turned back to the Avengers and his friends, a hugely-apologetic look on his face.

"I'm so sorry, guys. Did anyone get hurt?" he asked, walking up to them.

"Reports are showing that there were only mild injuries, no fatalities," JARVIS' voice spoke from Tony's suit.

Percy felt some worry leave him at that reassurance, but the peace only lasted so long. He saw that every one of the Avengers were looking to the teenagers for an explanation, and now they had permission to give it.

The son of Poseidon heaved a great sigh, rubbing his gut again, "I think it's time you knew the truth. The full truth this time."

Ω ♆ Ω

Let me know what you think! I'm sorry for my wonky updating schedule...

other chapters :)

[ethospathoslogan]

there will come a poet: chapter one (a vampire sanders sides fanfiction)

A/N: thank you all for the feedback on the prologue!! it all made me even more excited than i already was to post this first chapter :’) if you liked this, please considering liking/commenting/reblogging!! 

summary: The vines, chains so tightly braided together that the knights of the Hartt Kingdom could neither slash them open nor burn them down, began to twist, and shift, and press inwards, and press outwards, and weave and unweave and tangle and shiver and, ultimately, open.

The Wall of Vine and Thorn, impenetrable for a century, had opened up a hole six feet tall, and just wide enough for a person to step through.

Patton, without hesitation, stepped through.

ships: eventual moxiety and logince

WC: 5,271

content: light injuries, light blood

read on ao3 

read the prologue / next chapter

taglist:  @iwillsithereandtrytocontribute , @glitchybina

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A twig crunched underneath Patton’s foot, and he tried not to startle too much.

It was silly of him to be so scared. He knew that there were worse things to be found in the Twisted Wood than a few misplaced branches.

Or maybe it wasn’t silly of him to be so scared, because he knew what lurked further in.

At least, he had been taught what lied ahead, but…

He shook his head, his curls bouncing with the movement, and pressed forward. It was barely dawn, the sunlight just beginning to look down through the darkened canopy. To stay and dilly-dally would only give those back at the palace more time to realize he was missing.

And it would only give him more time to think about turning back.

But… turn back to what?

(It also gave him more time to feel guilty about leaving Logan behind, but Patton would rather spend hours thinking about the route he could take back to the palace before he spent a minute thinking about his magical advisor, his best friend, sleeping within the palace walls, unknowing to Patton’s empty bed in the next room over.)

Patton swallowed thickly and forced his feet forward, one step after another, one breaking twig after another.

Besides, at least if he kept walking, he didn’t have to think about how tired he was. He just… he just had to keep thinking about the journey he was on! Just like in the stories he had read before! All those stories about dashing princes, riding in on noble steeds, sword at their hip! They… they had to mean something!

Right?

Well, Patton had no armor, no sword, and no horse, but he liked to believe that he could make do with his blue cloak, unused dagger, and the most comfortable shoes he owned.

Another branch snapped underneath his foot. A bird cawed overhead, and Patton looked up to find a crow perched on a branch not too far ahead. He tried to ignore the chill running down his spine as the crow cawed again, shooting its song up into the canopy, before turning its dark gaze onto him.

“H-Hello, birdie,” Patton stammered quietly, forcing a smile on his face. If he tried hard enough, he could convince himself that he was just being polite, and that the nerves in his chest weren’t bubbling into rambling. “What’cha- what’cha doing out here so early?”

The crow tilted his head left, right, and when Patton crunched another branch under his foot, flew away.

“Okay,” Patton said, mostly to himself, and ducked his head, watching his feet as he walked.

He wondered if the Twisted Wood was so unsettling because of the history stooped in it, or if it was just because it was called the “Twisted Wood.” A simple title change could do the forest a lot of good.

Patton would know.

He was, after all, Prince Patton, son of Titus Hartt, the Iron King. Titus the Great, or Titus the Valiant, or even Titus, Patton’s dad, would have had a different ring.

So the Twisted Wood could have instead been the Winding Woodlands, or the Vast Meadows, or the Guiding Grove, or just… The Forest. A forest. Doesn’t even have to have a title!

Patton sighed and, looking up, readjusted his glasses.

He just hoped he was going the right way, though he had a feeling that a wall of thorns standing a mile high would be pretty hard to miss. 

Maybe that meant that they could see him from miles away, too. Whatever “they” were.

Okay, Patton knew what they were, but- but what if there was nothing there? What if it was all just a scary story told to princes to stop them from going and looking for themselves? No undead, no beasts, no monsters, just- just a vacant clearing! And then Patton could laugh and turn around and skip right back through the forest that was no longer scary! And maybe he could even sneak back into the palace without being seen, and then he could tell Logan this story that they would laugh at for the rest of the day!

Except-

Patton slowed his step and looked up through the leaves, the dull sunlight glinting off his glasses.

Except he didn’t know if he would be laughing.

He didn’t know what he was looking for. Not really. He just…

Something had to be better than nothing, right?

He was given enough time— just enough time —to debate that when, in the distance, the tall, thick trees began to blend in with the background, forming a wall of twigs and green- and Patton’s stomach dropped out of him when he realized that, after over two hours of walking, he had reached the heart of the forest.

Just like the legends always said, the Wall of Vine and Thorn stretched farther out than Patton could see. The Anguine Kingdom was rumored to remain inside, and the only reason it was rumor instead of fact was because no one actually knew what was left inside. Not since the barricade went up one hundred years ago.

(Patton had checked the date before he left, and today was actually the first day of the hundredth and first year.)

As Patton pushed himself forward, he could see more and more of the true… greatness of the Wall. It stretched upwards as if, one day, the vines could eventually reach out and touch the sky, but what he found himself even more amazed by were the trees that surrounded it. Almost like they had adjusted themselves to fit their new scenery, the trees closer and closer to the wall had grown, too: their trunks wider than Patton could reach around, their leaves blocking out the sun and, most curious of all, the trees bent towards the Wall. The branches and leaves all leaned over, and Patton could only imagine that they met in the middle.

He had heard legend that the Anguine Kingdom was thrown into eternal darkness the moment the barrier went up, but to see it in person…

He was close enough now that, if he just reached out, he could touch the vines thicker than his torso, or the thorns as long as his forearm.

Keeping his hands close to his chest, he took a step forward.

“H-Hello?” he called out, hoping his voice reached whatever was past the vines. “I- I don’t know if you can hear me? Or… or if there’s anyone there to hear me? But… I’m from the Hartt Kingdom. And I know what everyone… says about this place. About the princes. But I… I just want to know…”

He trailed off.

What did he want to know? 

He had left the palace with an abstract desire and, if he was being honest, he had hoped that his subconscious would think of a question for him.

“It can’t be that bad, right?” Patton finally asked. “Whoever you are can’t be that bad, right?”

The moment the words left his mouth, it felt like a stupid thing to ask, like a child’s question.

But he… he needed to know.

For a moment, everything was silent.

On the second moment, Patton shifted and winced when he snapped another twig beneath his foot.

And, just when he was ready to shake his head and turn around, chastising himself for really thinking that he could get an answer, the vines shifted.

The vines, chains so tightly braided together that the knights of the Hartt Kingdom could neither slash them open nor burn them down, began to twist, and shift, and press inwards, and press outwards, and weave and unweave and tangle and shiver and, ultimately, open.

The Wall of Vine and Thorn, impenetrable for a century, had opened up a hole six feet tall, and just wide enough for a person to step through.

Patton, without hesitation, stepped through.

He had been right: the trees met in the middle to block out the sun, and the slivers that burst through never made it to the ground.

If he squinted, though, he could still manage to see enough.

And what he saw was… the Anguine Kingdom. In the early morning air, it was still. Ivy crawled up the buildings, choking them out through the windows and the chimneys. The forest floor had long overcome whatever stone or wood once laid, dulled by footsteps from a time long ago. Craning his head up at a bird’s song, Patton watched as a dark shadow swooped among the leaves, startling them only for a moment before they resumed their hold above the remains. And, as Patton’s gaze shifted downward, he could make out the dark spire of a castle— the castle—looming in the distance. Patton watched it for a moment, and a moment longer, and made out no flashes, no shadows, no figures moving past the peaked windows.

It was hard to imagine the kingdom harboring monsters for over a century when it was this… peaceful.

He let his feet carry him forward, trudging carefully through the overgrown weeds and bramble. It was only when he heard a shifting, a slithering, behind him that he looked back and, to his sudden horror, found that the opening in the vines was beginning to close.

“Wait!” he shouted out without thinking and, his feet nearly catching on the brush below, sprinted. It was, at most, with his short legs, twenty paces, but when he reached the Wall, the vines had already sewn themselves back together and, skidding to a poor halt and tripping, Patton hissed as his left palm sliced open on one of the thorns and his knees crashed to the ground.

Instinctively, he whimpered in pain before squeezing his eyes shut, willing back any sudden tears at the sharp pain that sprung throughout his hand. Pulling his hand away from where it pressed into the ground, he grimaced at the gash running from the base of his middle finger to the heel of his palm, and did his best to ignore the streak of blood dripping down his wrist.

“Well...” His voice, quiet, only petered out more as he looked back up at the barrier. “Oh no.”

Patton, for a moment, tried to decide which would be worse: the monsters were real and he was stuck with them, or the legends were fake and Patton was stuck alone in the graveyard kingdom.

At the sound of running footsteps behind him, his anxiety decided for him that being trapped with something was much worse than being trapped with nothing.

And, as Patton whipped around and scurried backwards, daring the thorns to piece his back, for the first time that morning, he regretted leaving the castle.

“Remus, what is all this-”

And Patton watched as, around the corner of the nearest building, a figure cloaked in black came bounding towards him.

It took a moment for Patton to place him. In legends, in paintings, in story books, he was always signified by his eyes: one untouched, one ruined. Some depicted it as gashed, others depicted it as glassy. Some chose not to depict it at all, instead leaving him with a gaping, black hole. That one was the one that scared Patton the most as a child.

Instead, though, the eldest brother, staring down at Patton on the ground before him with his one brown eye, had a black patch over the other.

And Patton, with his blue eyes, stared back up.

The eldest brother held his gaze for a moment in pure astonishment. Perhaps he, too, was not able to process exactly what he was seeing in front of him.

And then, all Patton had time to process was the anger twisting on his face before he was being yanked up by his collar by gloved yellow hands, his face now mere inches from the eldest brother’s.

“What-” His voice, gripping with malice, ripped through Patton and sent his body into a tremble “-are you doing here?”

“I- I-”

All he could focus on were the fangs where canines should have been.

That, and how close they were to Patton.

“How did you get in here?” The brother hissed, his grip tightening. “Answer me!”

“I- I don’t know!” Patton cried out. He couldn’t tell if it was tears or sweat streaking down his face (or both).

“What do you mean-” And the brother yanked him closer “-You. Don’t. Know?”

“They let me in! They let me in!” Patton rushed out, gripping the brother’s wrists with his hands as if he even had a fraction of the power he needed to deter him. “The vines! They- they opened!”

“They-?” The brother’s face was only twisted in confusion for a moment before he stilled. His one eye, which up until then had never left Patton’s, darted to his right hand, which Patton was clutching desperately with his left.

Together, they watched as blood seeped through the brother’s yellow glove.

A scream barely caught in Patton’s throat as the pupil of the brother’s eye became a slit, his fangs bared, and-

And he threw Patton back to the ground.

“You shouldn’t be here!” The brother growled, ripping off his stained glove.

“I can’t- I just-”

“You just what?” The brother shouted. It could’ve just been Patton’s nerves, but he swore the canopy above them shook.

To say that he just wanted to know felt… wrong.

“I can’t get back out,” he whispered.

The brother turned his steely gaze from Patton to the vines.

“You can’t,” he repeated, “get back out.”

Patton shook his head but, for the first time, the eldest brother’s attention was elsewhere; as if he was in a trance, he stepped forward, past Patton, and put a hand to the barrier of foliage.

“Who are you?” the brother asked quietly. It was the calmest Patton had seen him yet.

“P-Patton.”

“Patton what?”

The answer caught in his throat as the legend flickered through his mind, and it was only when the brother’s eye flicked to him again that Patton was able to force out:

“Hartt. Patton Hartt. Of the- of the Hartt Kingdom.”

The eldest brother, for just a moment, froze.

And then he began to laugh, and he kept laughing, and it chilled Patton to his core. It was bitter and pained and, ultimately, seething.

“Wonderful!” He managed between his manic laughter. “Another one of you! After a hundred years! Fantastic!”

“I’m not here to-”

“Well, might as well make yourself at home!” The brother reached down and, grabbing Patton’s uninjured hand with his still-gloved one, yanked him up. “Since it seems like a Hartt is here to- to-” He cut himself off with another bark of laughter.

“I don’t know what you’re-!”

“And of course this is how it happens!” The brother’s grip tightened on his hand as he dragged him along and Patton, wincing, struggled against him. “Why should I have expected anything different? How foolish of me when-”

“You’re hurting me!” Patton cried out, yanking back against his grip, and the brother froze.

His grip on Patton’s hand loosened and then, eventually, dropped.

“I- I’m-” The brother sighed and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Apologies.” He then continued walking, this time without Patton tugged along. “My brothers… will want to know about this. You.”

Patton nodded, the fear and the curiosity making an uneasy coil in his gut, and, keeping his hands pressed close to his chest, followed slowly behind.

The stone steps to the castle swirled lazily up, drawing large circles around the overgrown courtyard. It made Patton nauseous to look down, but it made his knees tremble to look at the large, wooden door at the top, a tattered orange tapestry hanging above.

Overall, if Patton had to be honest, he wasn’t having a great time.

When they reached the double doors, the eldest brother took one last look at Patton, his eye narrowed, before he huffed and pushed the door open.

“Welcome,” he said, “to the Anguine Castle.”

Patton, when he stepped through the threshold, could not help but marvel at the site before him. The Hartt Castle, steeped in white marble and silver, seemed dull in comparison, even if the room in front of him was still drenched in darkness. Rich, red curtains hung closed before the windows. Dark wooden flooring stretched out, only stopping when met with the black, bricked walls. Accents of gold bespeckled themselves throughout the parlor, found in the decorations seated on the end-tables, in the frames holding aged portraits, in the bases of the unlit oil lamps on the wall. The room had a chill and Patton wished he brought something heavier than his cloak but, even for just this moment, he could not be bothered.

“Wow,” he breathed, looking around. Now choosing to marvel at the grand staircase leading up (and up and up and up) to the second floor, he watched as the eldest brother walked briskly to the foot of it.

“Roman! Virgil!” He called, his voice carrying through the chamber. “Get down here! Now!”

With a quick turn, he began flipping the switches of the oil lamps, each one turning on with a burst of flame before settling into a flickering calm. As they did, however, Patton noticed the light catching something on the brother’s hand and, as his eyes finally focused, he couldn’t help but stare at the scales encroaching upon the top of his hand and fingers, curling inwards to his palm.

Patton averted his gaze when the brother turned back to him, but from the way his brown eye was fixed on him, he blushed at the realization that he had been caught.

Before he could stammer out something that would either embarrass him further or send him to an early grave, a figure began to descend down the shadowed staircase.

“Janus, what the fuck is-”

Having stopped, frozen at the foot of the staircase, Patton was able to get a good look at their new guest (well, technically, he was the guest). He wore a simple black outfit similar to the eldest brother’s— Janus’s —except without the yellow accents. He stared at Patton—who couldn’t help but take note of his gaunt features and dark circles pressed under his eyes—and flicked his dark brown hair out of his eyes, as if that would make the scene in front of him any different. 

“Is Remus home?” Janus asked.

“Janus, what the fuck-” His voice then broke off as his eyes flicked to Patton’s hand and widened, and that was when Patton became aware of the drying blood down his left hand and forearm “-What the fuck did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Janus snapped. “So Virgil, answer my question, is Remus home?”

Virgil, lost for words, shook his head.

“Good,” Janus said. “I need you to take care of him, then.”

“How did- Who- What the fuck-?”

“Yes, I know,” Janus bit. “Apparently the wall opened up for him!” He then looked back at Patton, who sheepishly smiled, before back to Virgil. “His name is Patton Hartt.”

Patton tried to ignore how harshly he said that last part.

Virgil’s jaw, dropping just enough to reveal his own fangs, stared at his brother before shooting to Patton. He faltered a couple times before finally managing out, “Hartt?”

“Yes, Hartt,” Janus repeated. “Now, take care of him, while I-”

“I- wait, why do I-”

“Because I have things to do!” Janus shouted, throwing his hands up. “I need to- where is Roman?”

“You think I’m gonna be the one to get him up?”

Janus growled low in his throat and pushed his way past Virgil. “The fucking-” He whipped his head back over his shoulder to stare down Virgil “-Virgil, take care of him. Be smart.”

Patton watched as Janus ascended the stairs before turning his gaze to Virgil, who still stared at him, dumbstruck.

He was suddenly aware that “take care of him” could have a wildly different meaning here.

“I- I-” Virgil stammered “I have so many questions.”

“Me too,” Patton whispered.

“I-” Virgil eyed his injured hand again and swallowed thickly, turning his head sharply away. After a moment, he sucked in a breath and released it before turning back and, finally, stepping off the landing.

As he approached, Patton couldn’t help but stumble backwards, and Virgil held up his hands, slowing his step.

“I- I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured. It was the softest voice Patton had heard that day. “Just…” He looked over his shoulder before back at Patton. “Did he hurt you?”

Patton shook his head. “Not- no.”

Virgil arched an eyebrow.

“He was really scary,” Patton admitted. “But I- I tripped.” He showed Virgil his hand again, but when Virgil quickly shifted his gaze, he pulled it back against his chest.

Virgil sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, Janus isn’t really one for good first impressions.” Then, after a hesitation, he eyed Patton’s hand again. “But he wasn’t being… threatening when he said to take care of you. You have to get that wrapped up or- or something.”

“And you’re going to help me?” Patton asked.

Virgil shrugged. “Apparently.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Patton offered him a faint smile. Virgil averted his gaze again. “Are you bothered by…?”

“Not as much as some will be,” Virgil said with a chuckle, though there was little humor in it.

Patton, gut twisting, chewed his bottom lip.

Virgil caught his worried look and sighed. “Look- sorry, we just-” He broke off again and shook his head. “Just… follow me.”

He waved Patton down the hall to his right and, a few paces behind, he followed as Virgil switched on oil lamps as they passed by. They illuminated more portraits, those of men and women and families throughout the years, though all dressed in fashion that Patton hadn’t seen before. At least, not outside of the old portraits in his own palace.

The question on the tip of his tongue was soon answered for, as they entered into a dining hall, his eyes immediately fell upon the large portrait on the opposite wall.

Having only seen the King and his four sons drawn in storybooks, to see them human… it was unsettling. The King, his name lost with his perishing, sat upon his throne, orange cushions supported by what could have only been gold. Wearing a hard look on his face, Patton couldn’t help but let a chill run down his spine. Janus, his dark brown hair styled neatly and both eyes staring out at Patton, shadowed him. His hands, folded and unscaled, rested on the back of the throne, and, starkly different from the man he just met, his lips curled up in a smirk, paired with an arched eyebrow. To his right was Virgil, the same dark brown hair styled messily but, even from where Patton stood, he could see that his brown eyes had life in them. He looked more alive, his cheeks fuller and his skin blushed with pink, all put together with a small smile. 

Then, on the opposite side, stood two red-heads. The second son and his duplicate, Patton could assume, though it felt insensitive to say it now. The one standing closest to Janus wore a beaming grin, his head tilted every so slightly. His hair was styled so closely to perfection, Patton wondered if it was artistic intent or reality. The twin to his left, identical to the twin to his right in all but the mustache, stared out and grinned, though something about it seemed much more… frantic. His red hair would have been perfect as well if not for a stray curl here or a fly-away there (again, Patton found himself wondering if it was reality or intent).

“So you’re the youngest brother,” Patton commented without even thinking.

Only after a long hesitation did Virgil say, “Yes?”

Patton blushed as Virgil motioned for him to take a seat at the dining table.

(Patton noted that it looked like it hadn’t been used in quite some time.)

“Sorry, sorry,” Patton said quickly. “It’s just-” He huffed and looked away as Virgil began rummaging through the drawers and cabinets. “We’re… taught… legends.”

Virgil let out another humorless laugh. “Can’t even bother to learn our names, huh?”

Patton decided to shift in his seat instead of saying anything more.

After a couple silent, tense minutes passed, Virgil finally pulled a roll of cloth out of the back of a drawer and dropped it in front of Patton on the table. “Sorry it took so long. We don’t get many… injuries.”

“It’s fine,” Patton whispered.

He watched as Virgil took a pot from another cabinet and filled it with water from the faucet. He must have shown some type of confusion on his face for Virgil explained, “We, uh- there’s a spring we managed to trap in here with us. The castle’s been connected to it for, well… centuries.”

Patton nodded. “Oh.”

Virgil sat a couple chairs away from him as Patton, carefully, started to clean the cut on his hand.

After a couple more minutes of silence, Virgil sighed and said, “Look, I’m sorry about the name comment.”

Patton, looking up, furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re sorry?” he asked. “I’m sorry! It was- it was rude of me to say that, and-” He faltered as Virgil raised an eyebrow. He sighed and shook his head. “I know what the legends say. We could’ve… we could’ve at least kept your names.”

Virgil stared at him for a moment, and Patton realized that there was no way of telling the difference between his pupils and the color of his eyes.

Finally, Virgil broke his stare and turned to look at the portrait. “Who are we?” he asked. “In your legend.”

Patton swallowed thickly and, with his uninjured hand, pointed first at the King. “The King.” Then to Janus, “His eldest son.” He hesitated when pointing to the twins, but finally stopped on the beaming one, “His second son.” He hesitated even longer when pointing to the other twin, “The… the duplicate.” Then, finally, he moved to Virgil. “His youngest son.”

Virgil nodded, staring at the portrait. Finally, he pointed as well. “Livius. Dead. Janus. You met him. Roman. Here, but I’m not gonna be the one that wakes him. Remus. Don’t let him hear you call him that. Me. In the flesh.”

“How old were you all?” Patton asked quietly.

“Does it matter?” Even as Patton focused on cleaning off his cut, he could feel Virgil staring.

“Perhaps not,” he murmured.

Another moment of silence.

“Shit, I’m not good at this,” Virgil huffed, and Patton lifted his eyes just in time to see Virgil drag his hand through his hair. “We were, uh- Janus was twenty-seven. Roman and Remus were… twenty-three. And I was twenty-two.” He shifted in his seat. “The kingdom fell a year later.”

Patton nodded. He didn’t know what to say to that. Anything he could think of felt… useless.

It was history. He couldn’t change that.

“And the vines really… let you in?” Virgil asked when Patton finally tied off his cut with one of the remaining bandages. Patton couldn’t even tell if he was scared anymore, but he still figured it wouldn’t be… wise to leave it just out in the open.

Patton looked up when Virgil said that, and Virgil, quickly, averted his gaze once more.

“They did,” he answered with a soft laugh and a sheepish smile. “I just… I spoke to them? And a little… doorway opened up.”

Virgil turned back to him, his eyebrows furrowed. “You spoke to them?”

Patton blushed. “Y-Yes, it was silly, I guess, but-”

“What did you say?” Virgil pressed, leaning forward on his elbows. Even from a couple seats away, Patton could feel his intensity.

With those dark eyes on him, it was as if Virgil was seeing through him.

“That it can’t be that bad,” he finally answered, his voice barely a whisper. “That… you all can’t be that bad.”

Virgil held his stare for a moment longer, and Patton felt like he was drowning in it.

And then, Virgil, with a dry laugh and a shake of his head, leaned back. “Well… shit. You really must be a good person, huh?”

Before Patton could even begin to question him, from down the hall and back in the parlor room, both their heads turned to the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“I had just gotten into a much needed rest,” a voice was narrating—announcing?—as they came down the steps. “Something that a man of my caliber so greatly needs-” And he was coming down the hall “-Only to be so rudely interrupted by our cruel older brother because-”

And then, in the doorway, stood Roman, the second son. Donning the same grin in the portrait before him, completing his look with the same neatly styled hair and white button down (not buttoned all the way, the collar rumpled) tucked into black pants, he eyed Patton before finally meeting his eyes.

“Apparently-” And Roman cocked his head “-there is another prince in our home!”

“Uh, yes- yes!” Patton stammered as Roman sauntered over, taking the seat in between him and Virgil. “Patton- Patton Hartt!”

He stuck out his hand and Roman, adding a raised eyebrow to his look, took it with a hand chilled to the touch.

“Prince Roman Anguine,” he said, his brown eyes passing over Patton’s face once more. “Charmed.”

From behind him, Virgil rolled his eyes. Leaning forward, he fixed where Roman’s collar curled up.

Roman, in a movement faster than Patton could comprehend, smacked Virgil’s hand away. “It’s stylistic intent, Virgil,” he bit, the grin having slipped off his face. “I would be the one to know it.” 

Still, though, he adjusted his collar.

Virgil’s glare hardened as he leaned back in his seat. “Is that what you’re calling it, Ro?”

Roman, ignoring him, turned back to Patton and put back on his grin. “Apologies for that,” he said, laughing. “Just some gentle ribbing among brothers.”

“Uh-huh,” Patton said quickly, nodding. He was partially unconvinced and partially intimidated.

“If you two are done-” Patton had to grip the arms of his chair to stop himself from jumping out of his skin as Janus appeared in the doorway “-Roman, where’s Remus?”

Roman, pulling a face, waved a hand flippantly. “How would I know?” he asked. “I’m not his keeper.”

Janus, shutting his eye for a moment, huffed before looking at Roman again. “And you have no clue where he might go?”

Roman scoffed. “You think he tells me anything?” he asked. “I’m lucky to know when he’s going! Besides, why does it matter?”

Both Janus and Virgil pointed to Patton, who blushed as Roman’s eyes shot to him, his lips forming a small o.

“Oh right,” he breathed out, nodding. “Right. Human.”

“Exactly,” Janus said, looking at Patton. 

Patton then realized that all of them were looking at him.

“We don’t want…” Janus said slowly, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “To be caught off guard… when Remus returns.”

Next to him, Roman shifted in his seat.

“So,” Janus continued, “It would be best to make sure that Patton is not… left to his own devices when Remus-”

And, with that, all four startled at the sound of two heavy doors crashing into walls.

“Dear brothers!” A voice boomed through the castle. “Hope I’m not waking anyone! We all know how the dead can be!”

“Well,” Roman said, his eyes flicking to Patton and then Janus. “Found Remus.”

[yeenybeanies]

The Coliseum

i got this ask a bit ago & got to thinkin that i kinda dig this concept. so here we are! this isn’t set in ancient roman gladiator times ( tho that could be a cool story for another time :eyes: ) but set in modern, albeit more fantasy-like times i tweaked the prompt, but thanks for sending it in anon!!

ocs | abraham sun & grant summers

2,432 words

language warning; mild mentions of blood & violence

likes < reblogs!! feel free to leave comments in the tags!! thanks!! 

He's survived another day. Breath heavy, the giant collapses, knees slamming painfully onto the concrete floors of his cell. Steel cuffs and chains weigh down his arms, which hang limply at his sides. Everything hurts. Every muscle is sore. New cuts sting along his skin. His side in particular burns. That last blow he took feels like it might have cracked a rib. It hurts to breathe.

God, he’s hungry . . .. How many days has it been since his last meal? He can’t really remember. It was at least . . . four fights ago, but that’s no way to track time. 

How long has he been in this cage? This coliseum? The giant bows his head and sighs, eyes falling closed. The adrenaline rush is coming to an end, and the pain buffer along with it. It’s not the worst pain he’s felt since coming here, though. He should be able to sleep through it. Already he feels himself starting to fall forward, body ready to curl into a ball on the concrete floor and try to get some rest.

The chains rattle, giving him only a moment’s notice before they’re yanked back through the holes in the wall, pulling his arms along with them. He grits his teeth and grunts as he’s hoisted up, arms spread and body left to hang so he’s just barely able to stay on his knees. The giant looks to his restraints, to how the cruel metal presses into his skin, then turns his gaze to the cell door opposite of him.

Being held up like this usually means he’s being fed, or he’s being taken out and transported to the fighting ring. God, he prays for the former, though it wouldn’t be the first time he was forced to fight twice in one day . . ..

Even bound and gagged, the young man still fights, struggling with the two other, older men dragging him through the concrete corridors. Despite the cloth in his mouth, he still tries to shout and holler. He even tries to bite one of the men, but he can neither reach far enough, nor can he close his teeth around the fabric. It doesn’t stop him from trying, though. He is nothing if not a fighter.

“ Christ, ”  the left man––the one he tried to bite––groans,  “ this one’s feisty enough to throw out in the ring! Might last more n’ two seconds, eh? ”  His thick accent, some ugly, English-sounding prick, is difficult to understand.

“ Could be fun. ‘nfortunately, he’s got another destiny ahead, ”  says the right man. The boy glares up at the both of them. He can’t see their faces beyond the masks they wear, but he doesn’t recognize their voices. They’re just common thugs––grunts and henchmen. That doesn’t make him hate them any less, though. Whatever they plan to do with him, he doesn’t intend to make it easy for them. He digs his heels into the floor, but it only slows their pace for a moment. The left man snorts, hits him with a sharp uppercut to the diaphragm, and shoves him along while he coughs and holds back his tears.

The young man’s only just regained his breath when the men force him to turn, the three of them now facing a large, metal gate. The bars are thick. It’s a door, he realizes. It’s a large sliding door––a cell. And beyond the bars, held back up against the wall . . ..

Aw, and he’d just started to breathe normally again! But the sight before him makes the boy gasp, a new fear awake within him. The two men laugh and guffaw and make horrible noises, both holding onto the boy’s arms as he tries to kick and shove and break free. The left man gives him another punch to the gut, this one eliciting a sickening groan from him, and incapacitating him long enough for the right to type in the door code. It slides aside, clicking like any prison cell door would. The left man shoves the boy in with another ugly laugh, and the door closes behind him. Still cringing, the boy can only curl in on himself, helpless, and now trapped in a cage with a monster.

“ Enjoy your dinner, beastie, ”  one of the men yells. He can’t quite tell which one; they both sound the same. One word hits him hard, though––just as hard as both punches, and just as capable of stealing his breath: dinner. 

The two voices echo and start to fade. Slowly, still shaking, the boy pushes himself to sit, eyes wide and staring up at the . . .––at the giant man. The giant, blood-covered man.

And he’s dinner.

Confusion strikes the giant when the three figures stop at his door. Usually ten or more men come when he’s being taken out, and usually it’s only one man with a wheelbarrow that brings food. It’s never three people. The door’s opening doesn’t clear anything up either. Guards are a common sight in this hell hole, but the third one between them––that’s no guard. That’s . . . well, he looks like he’s just a normal human, snatched from the outside, much like the giant was. He grimaces as the stranger is struck and shoved in, but remains very much lost as the door closes again.

“ Enjoy your dinner, beastie. ”  

What? No. The giant furrows his brows and looks to the stranger, and then to the retreating guards. No. This has to be some sort of sick joke. It takes him several seconds to process this event, and several more to react. By the time the stranger’s seemingly caught some of his bearings, the giant finds his words again.

“ I don’t––hello? ”  He calls out, though he suspects it won’t do him any good. Still, he tries.  “ Giants don’t eat people! Hey! ” 

Silence. Of course. This is a sick joke. This whole thing is a sick joke. Giants and other creatures being captured and imprisoned and forced to fight in a gladiatorial ring? That’s a sick joke. This honestly shouldn’t be so shocking, but the giant is revolted all the same.

A whimper draws his attention back down to the stranger. Now that he’s looking up at him, the giant can better see his features. It strikes him that this stranger is a kid. He can’t be more than seventeen, eighteen years old! Oh, if he had anything in him right now, the giant would hurl in disgust. Instead, he can only sigh and stare back at him. The poor creature’s terrified of him. He doesn’t blame him. Fellow giants might be startled by his appearance; he can only imagine how a human feels seeing a fifty-foot-tall man covered in viscera.

“ Take out your gag, ”  he says finally. The boy doesn’t move. The giant opens his mouth to repeat it, but his chains suddenly go slack and pour from the walls, letting him fall heavily to his hands and knees with a grunt. That gets the boy moving, gets him scooting away desperately, as best he can with his arms bound. 

“ Ow. Easy, kid . . .. “  the giant croaks. He looks up to see him with his back against the cell bars. He could still reach him, now that his chains are loosened, but he doesn’t make any movements towards him. No need to frighten him more. Instead, the giant leans back onto his feet and rests his hands in his lap, keeping them visible.

“ I’m not going to hurt you. Like I said: giants don’t eat people. Humans included. ”  It’s an annoying misconception that the giant had faced even before this dreadful place.  “ Your gag, kid, ”  he says again, nodding his head towards the boy. It still takes him a few more moments to snap out of his stupor, but, once he does, he yanks at the gag and pulls it off over his head. Red lines run along his cheeks where the cloth had been digging into his skin. He stares up at the giant, still wordless. The giant assumes from all the gawking that the boy has never seen a giant before, or never been this close. Their kind don’t tend to interact too often.

“ Got a name? ”  It’s weird to speak. It’s weird to think that it’s weird to speak. That must mean that the giant has been here for longer than he thought. The only times he’d speak prior to now was when he’d shout and demand to be released, or yell in the ring. He’d run his voice ragged from all the noise he’d make, but still he cannot recall a single conversation he’s had with anyone here.

The boy is still quiet, still gawking up at him. He sighs and leans his head back, eyes closing. He’s so hungry . . .. Echoing his thoughts, his stomach growls rather noisily, but the giant has learned to ignore it. The boy, however, not so much. His soft gasp draws the giant’s attention back to him.

“ I’m not going to do it. Promise. ”  He doesn’t expect it to mean much to the boy, but he promises himself too. No matter how hungry he gets, he will not eat another person.  “ My name’s Abraham. I’m . . . really sorry you got drawn into this. If you can, you should try to find a way to escape. Probably easier for someone your size. ” 

Of all the things the boy expected to happen to him, being fed to a giant was not on the list. It wasn’t even within the realm of possibility. Yet, here he is, trapped in a cell with a giant. Oh, he’s a mean-looking one too. His bare torso is covered in scars and scabs and even a few open wounds––and blood. His eyes, though––the way they stare back into the boy––they don’t quite match the rest of the picture. The giant’s eyes look confused, concerned, sad. And his voice––once he’s stopped yelling at the guards and started talking directly to the boy, his voice is soft, like he’s actively trying not to scare him.

He still does scare him, but the fact that he’s ( presumably ) trying not to is . . . something. It provides some small comfort––about as small as the boy feels next to this massive being right now.

That growl, though––that growl coming from the giant’s stomach––dashes that modicum of comfort. He can’t help the gasp that leaves his now-freed mouth, though he immediately covers it with his hands.

Promises, promises.

Hell yeah, he should try to escape! The boy glances around the cell, seeing nothing but . . . cement. Cement walls and steel bars. There’s not even a proper bed in this thing. There’s only a flimsy blanket on one side and a hole in the floor on the other. The cell itself is too small for the giant; it doesn’t look like he wouldn’t be able to stretch his arms out fully in any direction, even without the chains. It’s a concrete box, is what it is, not fit for animals, let alone people, giant or not. With the giant in here, though, it feels all the more suffocating. No matter where the boy moves, he still looms over him.

That does raise another point of interest, though: if the giant really were intending to eat him ( at least right now ), well, he’s plenty capable of grabbing the boy. There is nowhere in this cell that he could go where he would be out of the giant’s reach now that his chains are loosened. 

Maybe this giant––Abraham ( kinda unexpected that a giant has a human name, though when was the last time someone named their kid Abraham? )––really doesn’t intend to eat him. For now.

The sense of danger isn’t gone, but it’s lessened enough for the boy to take his eyes off of Abraham for more than a moment. He turns his attention to the rope still binding his wrists together. It’s tight and uncomfortable, both in how it forces him to hold his arms, and in how it digs into his skin.

“ Want me to get that for you? ”  Fuck. That voice is soft, but the presence is still overwhelming. The boy tightens his jaw. Of course not. He doesn’t want the giant to be anywhere near him! But that’s . . . unavoidable. No matter how either of them move, so long as they are both in this cell, he is going to be uncomfortably close to the giant.

Slowly, tentatively, the boy lifts his arms, offering his bound wrists to the giant. Abraham momentarily looks surprised, like he hadn’t expected the boy to agree ( and he is, truthfully, just as surprised at his own cooperation ), but he says nothing. He reaches his massive hands forward––fuck. The boy flinches back.

“ It’s okay, ”  Abraham says.  “ Take your time. I know you’re scared. ” 

Fuck! He doesn’t like hearing it! It’s true––completely and entirely true––but the boy wrinkles his nose regardless. He takes a breath to steady himself, and tries again, lifting his arms to the giant. This time, though, he squeezes his eyes shut and keeps his head turned away, sparing himself from the frightening image of Abraham’s hands coming towards him. It has . . . relative success in easing him. He still flinches when he feels those big fingers brush his sleeves, when he feels them poke and prod and tug at the ropes, and snap them off like they’re cobwebs.

The relief is instantaneous, though. The boy releases his held breath and pulls his arms back, rubbing at his wrists. His skin is bruised with ligature marks, but overall it feels much better to have his mobility back.

“ Thanks . . . ”  the boy mumbles, still not looking up at the giant.  “ It’s, uh . . . it’s Grant. ” 

“ I’m sorry? ”  Geez. He’s going to have to get used to the giant speaking. There’s still something unnerving about a voice coming from so high up, yet still being so close.

“ My name. It’s Grant. ”

“ Ah. Okay. How old are you, Grant? “ 

Again, Grant crinkles his nose. What’s it to the giant?  “ ‘m not a kid. ” 

The giant huffs. It’s dry, almost a laugh.  “ You look young enough to be my kid, kid. ”

Grant returns the huff, indignant. Topic change.  “ Where are we? Why are you here? ” 

Abraham’s expression falters. Any sliver of humor he’d had is gone just as quickly as it came. He breathes a heavy sigh and looks up to the ceiling, too low for him to stand up in. 

“ You’re in an underground coliseum. Most people brought here are forced to fight. It’s kill or be killed. ”  His head falls.  “ They kidnapped me and made me a modern day gladiator. And you, apparently, have been reduced to food. ” 

[perspective-series]

Lilliputian Perspective (6/10)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Fear, threats, treating someone like a monster, manipulation, and mention of eating people and death

(Check the reblog for the links to any future chapters)

—————————————————————————————————-

When Logan finished cutting through the ropes he looked up, only now realizing the terrified sea staring back at him. Logan looked down at his knife, realizing how monstrous his simple tool must appear when the little blade was nearly half their size. Almost sheepishly Logan put the knife back in his pocket, not wanting to accidentally threaten the army further.

 “Okay, this is...okay.” Virgil let out a long breath. “Everyone, start heading back!” It took several beats for everyone to start moving, everyone glancing behind them at the giant warily. Virgil looked up at him. “Um...when you’re ready,” Virgil said, motioning towards the cave entrance. 

 “Wait!” Patton shouted, running up to the prince. Virgil took a step back in surprise and immediately some guards were on either side of him, glaring down at the other. Patton cowered but stood his ground. “Please, don’t hurt him. He didn’t do anything wrong.” Patton pleaded.

 Virgil searched his eyes, biting his lip. “I...as of right now, I don’t plan to.” Virgil said. “I, well, I know I let the two of you go, but will you still come with us? For questioning and whatnot?” Virgil asked. And maybe leverage or something. These two seemed pretty buddy with the giant anyhow, and Virgil didn’t want to lose that.

 Patton nodded. “I’ll come.” Eyes turned to Roman. He let out a long, suffering sigh.

 “I suppose I am already in too deep as is,” Roman spoke and he walked up next to Patton. “Fine. I’ll come.”

“Can I release my wrists as well?” Logan requested, holding up his arms for emphasis. “It’s a bit chafing.”

 Virgil eyed him warily. “As long as you don’t...grab anyone.” Virgil hoped he didn’t regret giving this giant too much freedom.

“That doesn’t seem like a particularly good condition,” Logan observed, already pulling his knife back out. “I still had the ability to grab even with the restraints.”

 Virgil felt a shiver go through him at that. “Just...please don’t,” Virgil said, taking another step back as the knife made a return.

“I will not grab without consent,” Logan assured him, cutting through the ropes on his wrists. It was a bit more of a difficult angle, but Logan managed. It wasn’t like anyone here was large enough to help him in his task. Fully free, Logan returned the knife to his pocket, rubbing at the tiny rope marks left on his skin.

 “Good.” That would have to do for the moment. “Then we better get going. Um, please watch your step.” Virgil said, looking at the giant. As Virgil began to walk out of the cave, Patton turned and came closer to Logan.

“Patton, how about you come with me?” Logan offered, putting his palm down. It should certainly help raise public approval of him if Logan was able to demonstrate the care he took around handling his two Lilliputian friends.

 Patton blinked at the offer. “O-Oh! Um, yeah! Okay!” He came closer towards the hand, looking at it a bit warily but he eventually got on, sending a smile up at Logan.

 Virgil turned back and his eyes widened as the glasses-wearing lilliputian, Patton he remembered, was climbing onto the giant hand on his own free will. Virgil honestly couldn’t believe it.

 As Patton settled on, he looked over at Roman. “Come on Roman!”

 “Ugh,” Roman said, but walked over. He stared at the offered palm. “I guess it beats being grabbed.” He gave a pointed look towards Logan before climbing on as well.

“I would never grab without consent.” Logan gave Roman a stern look, knowing that wasn’t the case but wanting to keep up appearances for the army at their doorstep.

 “Oh, of course!” Roman exclaimed before giving Logan a deadpan look. Patton gave a small glare towards Roman, softly bumping him. Roman huffed but got the message.

 “I...I guess that’s...fine.” Virgil spoke. He couldn’t fathom anyone climbing into a hand that big.

Logan was extra cautious this time as he raised his hands, cupping both close to his chest for protection and standing to his full height.

 Once again, Virgil found himself in terrified awe. He backed up and strained his neck as the giant stood to his full height. Virgil was reminded of how helpless they all really were in comparison. “Okay, um, cool. This is great.” He mumbled. He shook his head to get himself together. “Follow me!” He called up and exited the cave, getting on his horse and starting off toward the castle.

Logan followed carefully behind, keeping his steps small and soft. Thankfully on horseback, the Lilliputians were much faster, although there was an added danger of the horses becoming frightened. Logan kept a further distance back after one had nearly thrown its rider in haste to get away from the human.

It was strange, being able to stand at his full height and approach the little civilization. Despite the severity of the situation, Logan couldn’t help but marvel at the tiny kingdom. At the back, a glimmering white towering structure stood taller than Logan himself, surrounded by a large wall and towers that made it clear this was the castle. 

Of course, the closer they got to town, the more apparent it became that Logan was not going to be able to make it to the actual castle from the front. There was a large amount of shrieking, Lilliputians torn between coming out and ogling at him or running for their lives.

 Virgil halted, noting all the terrified screams of the people. “Okay, I think it might be best if we went around to the back.” Thankfully, there were no towns or people living behind the castle.  Virgil announced this and they started on that way. It would take longer but it would be safer.

 As they changed directions, Patton looked up at Logan. “Logan, are you really going to let them lock you up?”

“Yes,” Logan replied softly, taking care his voice didn’t carry. “Though it’s not exactly ideal, I understand the distrust.”

 “But what if they keep you locked up?” Patton asked, eyes wide. 

 “That ‘making you into a weapon’ scenario sounds a lot more plausible now, doesn’t it?” Roman spoke up. Patton brought his hands to his mouth in a gasp as he remembered what Roman had said the other day.

“I won’t harm any Lilliputians,” Logan said firmly. “Or at least, not in an aggressive nature. Only in defense if it ever came down to such a scenario. No, all I can do now is remain compliant and peaceful and wait for the crown to see me as the two of you have done.”

 “And I’m sure they will, cause you’re a good person!” Patton said but Roman didn’t share in Patton’s optimism. 

 “I don’t know...people will do a lot of things out of fear,” Roman spoke.

 “Roman…” Patton whined.

“That’s why I must take caution not to frighten them,” Logan stated, knowing Roman was correct. “It would take time to get off this island, so resisting is illogical now that I’ve been discovered.”

 Patton and Roman shared a look, knowing Logan was right. But neither could guess how things would go down.

 Virgil led his army and the giant around the back of the castle and was glad to see that the metal restraints were ready. Well, one was anyway but that should be enough for now. They currently had to set it up out in the open field, chained to the castle wall, due to still having to finish the cave. He turned his horse around to face the giant. “If-If you could sit down so that we may put the chains on you.” Virgil more asked than commanded.

Logan did as was asked of him, sticking his leg out for good measure.

 The army moved immediately, wanting to giant chained as soon as possible. The metal clasped around his ankle and everyone let out a small sigh of relief. Still, though, people were tense. And Virgil knew it would stay that way until the cave was completed and they could properly have the giant restrained. “...Thank you for your cooperation.” Virgil said to the giant.

 Patton let out a slight whine as he saw the chain go on Logan. He didn’t like this, why was everyone so fast to judge? Well...he had too but he had quickly turned around. Couldn’t these people see Logan meant no harm?

Logan looked down at the chain around his ankle, giving it a gentle test tug. It held firm and dug into his skin. It was clear this material would take more than a pocket knife to break, and despite his relative size, Logan was not known for his strength.

 Virgil hopped off his horse and looked towards the giant. “If you could release the two lilliputians, we have a few questions to ask them,” Virgil asked. 

“Certainly.” Logan nodded, noticing a crowd was gathering. He set Patton and Roman down, knowing the eyes of the kingdom were on him.

 Patton stepped forward and bowed towards the prince. Roman was close behind but he simply crossed his arms and looked indifferent to the prince. Virgil turned to his advisor. “Can you take them into the castle and into some guest chambers? As of right now, they are to be treated as guests.” Virgil said. Dee, his advisor, gave him a look at that but did as told, leading the two away.

 Virgil then focused on all the people surrounding him and the giant. “Please, everyone, go back to your homes!” Virgil called out. It took a bit, but eventually, the people left. Once they were gone, Virgil told most of the army to leave too, only leaving a few guards near the outer area to watch the giant.

“What now?” Logan asked, watching the Lilliputians disperse. He had no idea what sort of government this kingdom had, and frankly, he was beginning to feel a bit uneasy about how his fate might be decided.

 “Well...um, I guess I have a few questions for you first,” Virgil said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess the first one being...do you have a name?”

“Logan Gulliver,” Logan answered. He thought about sticking out his hand, but with the number of guards still floating about Logan thought it best he keeps his distance from the prince.

 Virgil nodded, a little surprised he did have one. At the very least he hadn’t expected him to have a last name. “Virgil Storm, prince of the lilliputians. “He introduced. 

“It’s an honor to meet you, your highness.” Logan put his hand to his chest in a sign of respect. “I just wish it was under better terms.”

 “...Yes, I as well.” Virgil would like this so much better if Logan wasn’t a giant that they didn’t know the intentions of.

 “Okay, first question...where did you come from?” Virgil asked and he really hoped the answer wasn’t somewhere close, cause the last thing they needed was more giants.

“Was my name not the first question?” Logan looked a bit puzzled. “Regardless, I’m from England.”

 Virgil blushed, looking down. “O-Oh right, I, uh, guess it was.” Well, great, now he’s embarrassed himself. He had to press forward though. “England? I’ve...never heard of it.” He doesn't recall ever seeing it on any map.

“I didn’t expect you would.” Logan shrugged. “It’s part of the world where everything is to my scale. I doubt a ship your size could survive the waves out there long enough to reach land.”

 Virgil’s eyes widened at that. “To...scale…?” The very thought about everything being as big as Logan sent a shiver down his spine. “So there are more giants?”

Logan nodded. “Several billion, in fact.”

 And Virgil’s brain just shut down. No, there was no way. Logan must be lying in order to establish fear. Yeah, that must be it. Virgil pulled himself together and looked at the giant warily. He had to be lying. “Okay, next question,” Virgil said quickly to change the subject. “Why did you come here?”

“I did not intend to come here at all,” Logan assured him. “I was thrown overboard and washed up on your shores.”

 Virgil hummed. Again, he wasn’t sure he believed this giant. “Right...and Roman was the first to find you? Right?” Why did that name sound familiar?

Logan nodded. “He discovered me while I was still passed out on the beach.”

 Virgil nodded as well. “And...what about Patton?”

“He was fleeing from bandits and found me in the cave,” Logan explained.

 “Right, okay…” Virgil hummed to himself. “I’m gonna take my leave now. I might have more questions for you later though.” Virgil turned to leave before he stopped. “Er...is there anything you cannot eat?”

Logan shook his head. “I have no allergies, and all the food Roman brought me has been edible.”

 “Okay,” That was good, at least. Virgil sent one last glance back at Logan before leaving, heading back inside the castle to see how Dee was doing with the others.

 When he entered the room, he only noticed Patton sitting there, who looked sad. “Uh, where’s Roman?” He asked. Dee turned towards him as he walked in and bowed to him. 

 “Your Highness! How should I put this...Roman is a thief. A rather infamous one in this kingdom. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” Dee explained. Virgil blinked. 

 “Oh! Wait, really?” Virgil asked and Dee nodded.

 “Yes, so I sent him to the dungeons. I know you wanted to question him but we can’t trust anything that thief says.” Dee growled and Virgil nodded. 

 “Oh...right.” Virgil walked over to Patton, who stood straighter before bowing to Virgil. “Patton, I have a few questions for you.” Virgil started but Dee stepped in.

 “Actually, Sire, I took the liberty of asking a few questions myself, while you were conversing with the...beast,” Dee said and Virgil blinked. 

 “Oh, well, okay. What did he say?” Virgil looked to Patton, who was looking off to the side.

 “Just that he trusts the beast, or at the very least thinks it won’t hurt any of us. I’m pretty sure he’s been brainwashed.”

 “I haven’t!” Patton cried out, looking up at them. “Logan hasn’t done anything to deserve this! He’s a good person!”

 “Is he?” Dee asked, raising a brow. “Or is he just lying? Biding his time to get us all to trust him and then when he has it, he strikes.” Dee got in close to Patton’s face as he said this, causing Patton to lean back and his eyes to widen in alarm.

 “N-No, he wouldn’t-”

 “You don’t know him.” Dee cut him off. “You just met. He’s only acting nice to get what he wants. And what he wants, is all of us to be his little servants. Maybe even his meals. Perhaps both.” 

 Virgil swallowed the lump that formed at the thought. “You...really think that’s his plan?” Dee turned to Virgil.

 “Of course! He’s a giant. You’ve read the stories, the history. They only want trouble.” Dee paused and turned to Patton. “Don’t you see now?”

 Patton was looking down, eyes wide. “I-I don’t…” Dee put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump.

 “It’s a lot to take in. The fact that you were manipulated, I know. How about you go rest on it, hmm?” He turned to the nearby guard. “Please, take him to his room.” The guard nodded and took Patton, who looked confused and sad on his way out. Virgil couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

 “Now that he is gone, I have a...matter, to discuss with you,” Dee announced and Virgil blinked, turning to him. 

 “What?” Virgil asked, looking at the advisor.

 “It’s about Roman’s punishment.” He admitted, admiring his nails. “It’s obvious he needs to be executed but I say we turn this into a little test for our giant.”

 Virgil blinked. For one, he didn’t think it was obvious Roman should die. “Uh...what?”

 “This is my plan,” Dee said with a sly grin. “We don’t feed the beast all day. Let him get so hungry that his true nature shines through. And then? We feed Roman to it.”

 “Wh-What?! Dee, I don’t think-” Virgil stuttered, but Dee cut him off.

 “Please, Virgil, you are too soft. What would your father say?” Virgil shut his mouth at that, looking down. Only for Dee to lift his head up gently by the chin. “It’s alright. That’s why I’m here.” He grinned and dropped Virgil’s face.

 “Isn’t...isn’t it a bad idea to give the giant a taste for our blood though?” Virgil asked and Dee paused in thought for a moment.

 “Maybe...but it’s the price we need to pay to learn his true intentions,” Dee said and, slowly, Virgil nodded. Dee grinned.

 “Of course, we can’t very well do anything with the giant until the king returns but until then, we will learn as much as we can, in order to inform your father when he is back.” Dee came closer, placing a hand on Virgil’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “I’m sure your father will be proud of you for catching this giant.”

 Virgil felt a mixture of pride and happiness swirl around him at that. “R-Really?”

 “Of course! This shows how responsible you are and how well you can manage the throne. Just you wait, he’ll be very proud.” Virgil nodded, eyes wide and Dee grinned. He had the prince like putty in his hands. Perfect.

 And pretty soon, he’d have the beast doing his bidding as well.

 “Now, we wait until tonight without feeding the giant anything and then send Roman to him. Sound like a plan, your highness?” Dee asked.

 Virgil nodded. “Y-Yeah...sounds like a plan.”

[shipping-receiving]

JB Fav Fics

Ages ago, I reblogged @chickren​‘s post (from 2013!) and I promised to give it a shot but got all tied up with my dissertation and my own fic. Now that my dissertation is done, I HAVE COMPLETED THIS. Bear in mind these answers might be a bit ‘dated’ as well (by a few months) because I’ve not been reading much fic on my end. Turns out when I’m writing my own, I can only hold one version of J/B in my head. 

Anyway this list is LONG AND TOOK ME FOREVER and I also wrote comments because I can’t help myself. So everything is under the cut. I took out the Shuffled Challenge one (very 2013 lol) and I replaced it with a category called... favourite S8 fix-it. Can you believe it? After I made all this noise about not being able to read fix-its?

[J/B Fic Recs: Master Post if anyone needs it before we start things off]

Favourite fic set immediately after ADWD Second to fucking none: Honor Thy Regard by SigilBroken Nights Without Armor by bratanimus

Favourite fic set a long time after ADWD Oh. Salt Wife by Lady_in_Red. Breathtaking simplicity.

Favourite TV canon fic Pretty and Traveling Far by astolat A Man for All Seasons by dreadwulf

Favourite S8 fix-it Yes, I know. I can’t deal with fix-its. And yet. Ice by Gwen77 Ring Them Bells by kirazi Battle is the Great Redeemer by Lady_In_Red

Favourite modern AU Clean hands by you-know-who (... it’s Gwen77) + all the classics:  Fever by Lady_In_Red On the Night’s Watch by Miss_M It’s Like Weather by ssstrychnine Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken And of course our recent fandom favourite: two halves of a soul by angel_deux

Favourite kiss (Don’t specify chapter) Okay this is kind of a random one but I remember re-reading Roommate Wanted by JustAGirl24 a couple months back, and when they finally kissed I wanted to freaking throw my phone across the room. It’s not even described in detail, it was just such a perfectly timed OMFG!!! THEY KISSED! moment.

Favourite smut Anything by Miss_M, good lord. My all-time favourite is Golden and True (modern AU, sequel to Ball and Chain), but for canon!verse it has to be Heart’s Desire and Spring Awakening. And obviously I have to say Flawed by francoeurs – smut exploring J/B’s Issues with a capital I? I’m THERE.

And for multi-chapter fic, Everyone Has Secrets by ellaria is fire. Oh and also, everyone’s favourite professor AU, Stacked by QuizzicalQuinnia.

Favourite UST On the Night’s Watch and Someone to Watch Over Me by Miss_M. I love that these two fics take place over such a short time (a few days) but they manage to feel like slow burns. That’s fucking skill right there.

Best written fic I hate this question. You want me to pick the best-written fic out of the FIVE THOUSAND J/B FICS ON AO3? Lmao I’m skipping.

Favourite fic with an unusual premise Multiverse central: All the Roads are Winding by ShirleyAnn66 In which Brienne can turn into a sea lion: This Is Your Wilderness by hardlyfatal GENDER SWAP: all knights are gallant and all maids are beautiful by janie_tangerine Jaime is a sculptor: Madonna of the Balcony by QuizzicalQuinnia Jaime does needlework: Hold This Threadbare Heart at Needlepoint by nire

Favourite action scene Words by astolat. The entire battle sequence.

Favourite dialogue Clean hands by Gwen77, Chapter 9. So cathartic, and SO MUCH HAPPENING. Not just J/B but Tyrion and Cersei on the phone too. I mean I just tried to re-read it to pick an excerpt (I can’t) and I already started crying lmao

Favourite characterization of Jaime A Man for All Seasons by dreadwulf. THE NUANCE. THE DETAIL.

Favourite characterization of Brienne Any fucking thing by Gwen77. Especially Clean hands, Diplomacy and Ice.

Favourite relationship development Where I follow, you’ll go by Lady_In_Red Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken, OBVIOUSLY It’s Like Weather by ssstrychnine Patience on a Monument by betts, even though they’re already friends, because betts makes me sit through Jaime/Sansa and Brienne/Tormund and yet I still re-read this.

Favourite use of non-typical character. Exclude these: Jaime, Brienne, Podrick, Hyle, Cersei, Sansa, Margaery, Tyrion, Daenerys, Selwyn, Tywin. Hmm this is a tough one. Maybe Loras the photographer in Living Fiction by Archetype_Electraheart

Favourite plot In This Light by SigilBroken for canon!verse endgame On the Night’s Watch by Miss_M and Everyone Has Secrets by ellaria for modern AU. I love J/B investigating stuff together.

Favourite title Nobody Knows / You Know and I Know by Miss_M “There’s a story,” Brienne says, “about a corrupt official who went to a sage and offered him to take part in a scheme, promising no one would ever know. ‘How can you say that?’ the sage replied. ‘I know, and you know, and the earth knows, and the sky knows.’”

Favourite WiP (finished or unfinished) With All Your Faults by seaspirit (close to the end!!!) The Descent by openmouthwideeye And this is finished but Tale As Old As Time by BrienneofThrace. She came back after like four years to finish it?! That alone is fandom magic.

Favourite long one-shot Pretty by astolat (wtf this is 30k?)

Favourite short one-shot OH MY GOD THE GLASSES FIC. Age Gap by ikkiM

Favourite drabble Mmmmm I don’t really read drabbles so I’ll skip this too.

Favourite beginning What is True, But Not Ideal by Vera: Jaime doesn’t appear for like four chapters and yet I was still on board.

Favourite ending IT’S FUCKING Clean hands by Gwen77 OKAY DON’T @ ME. Traveling Far by astolat – because she just Went There and gave J/B five kids The Sorrows That Women Cause by Mussimm (seventh and final part of Works and Days, in which they just... bang)

Favourite story twist more like the man you were meant to be by janie_tangerine. I mean, this isn’t really an internal twist, more like a twist on canon The Importance of Knocking by Miss_M, since it’s a story twist for Cersei lol.

Funniest story St George's Day by sansasparky The Best Legs You've Ever Seen by ikkiM

Favourite angst In the first version of this list I said I wouldn’t pick Gwen77 again for this one, and then I re-read Ice and cried my eyes out for like, the whole thing. Special mention for catherineflowers’ series We Need to Talk About…, because of how much she just commits entirely to some really dark stuff. It’s something I wouldn’t necessarily re-read, but just the audacity it took for her to write this is really impressive.

Favourite fluff The Higher Education of Brienne of Tarth and Drunken Shenanigans with Jaime and Brienne by BrienneofThrace. Anything by BrienneofThrace to be honest. She does the purest J/B. Also, Nothing That Is So, Is So by RoseHeart, and i get to be the other half of you + The 'Kiss Me' Series by sameboots.

Favourite Jaime line Yooooooo that part in Laying Siege by astolat when Jaime just launches into his wedding proposal: “I swear to you before these witnesses that I will protect Sansa Stark with my life, beside you. I will never take the field against her. I will take your name and your crest and your house as my own—”... I can feel myself being Brienne going WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

Favourite Brienne line Yeah yeah here I go picking Gwen77 again. The very last lines of all her fics always slay me, but this is the only line I can quote verbatim, from Diplomacy: “Trapped, he had said, worry in his voice. Ruined. She had never felt so free.”

Favourite general line or excerpt I love the way Gwen77 commits to the motif of walls in Ice. I freaked out about it here. And then after all that talk about Brienne building up her walls she just HITS US WITH THIS FINAL LINE:

“Jaime was hers, encircling, warm, solid as a wall. He would catch her if she fell.”

Favourite non-romantic fic The tale of Squire!Brienne series by LadyRhiyana

Favourite maiming adaptation in a modern AU Fever by Lady_In_Red, because I love how the whole story is built on Jaime learning how to ride again with a mangled hand

Favourite kidfic Not really a full-on kidfic, but You Know and I Know (sequel to Nobody Knows) for that Jaime & Tommen relationship, plus that conversation J/B have about having kids in future. Oh, and so brief, but Traveling Far by astolat.

Craziest scene that was in character and made sense (Don’t specify chapter) Let’s just go for the entirety of Stannis Baratheon, Fantasy Football League Commissioner by ikkiM AND THAT FUCKING J/B/C FIC THAT I READ BECAUSE I DIDN’T LOOK AT THE TAGS OKAY: Pride by astolat

Most underrated fic My Fall by TeamGwenee. Witches in 1600s colonial America AND in first person POV? IT WORKS THO. Such an interesting and original premise, and written in a very refreshing succinct style, and yet this multi-chapter fic has less than 200 kudos. Another one with less than 200 kudos: and you’ve whispered what I’m worth by angel_deux, a really lovely Mad Max: Fury Road AU.

Most desperate to see updated NO PRESSURE!!! for our world is cold and full of monsters by chancellor_valdez room service by ssstrychnine A Star Within the Mere by isavedlatin (sigh)

Favourite J/B as a secondary couple Some Kind of Family by crossingwinter

Most haunting Fool by astolat. I don’t know why. It’s a very beautiful story and it’s not even a bad ending for J/B necessarily, but the fact that it ends the way it does just really fucks me up. It’s the only fic in my bookmarks that I don’t think I can ever bear to re-read.

Favourite (friendship or hate) relationship between Jaime and another character One Of The Few Things by anniebibananie (Sansa) – I’m picking this just for the sheer I-can’t-believe-you-made-this-work-and-I-applaud-you factor

Favourite (friendship or hate) relationship between Brienne and another character What Is True, But Not Ideal by Vera (Tyrion)

[krisrix]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thanks for tagging me, @thehoneyedhufflepuff and @sharkmartini​ 😘

Rules:

Writers: post (approximately) six sentences from something you’re working on. If you aren’t ready to do that, add six sentences to your WIP.

Readers: challenge yourselves to leave a six sentence comment or give a writer a six sentence prompt. (or a total of six sentences for the day)

Fans and creators alike: reblog a fandom post and add some love in the tags. Aim for 6 posts - or 6 tags. Whatever you can manage!

Here’s a long snippet from a 20k+ monster I’m working on right now. Canon divergent AU where Simon loses some of his memories alongside his magic. And now, more than five years later, he and Baz meet up again:

I can sense Baz’s eyes locked to my throat as I take a long gulp from my pint. It’s been so long since I felt his heavy gaze on me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. When I set the glass down, I finally look at him again. He’s still staring, squinting some, making me think he’s looking at something in particular. “What?” I say. Baz blinks and snaps his gaze to mine. “What?” he echoes. “You were staring.” “Oh.” Baz actually looks a bit abashed at that. He leans back in his seat. “I was wondering what your necklace is.” “What?” I say (again)(stupidly). Now Baz smirks. “Your chain.” I watch his movements closely as he draws a fingertip over a small strip of his own neck—I swallow. “It’s not the same chain as before.” “N-no, it’s not.” I self-consciously place my hand over my neck, where he gestured. “It’s, um.” Well. I tug at the chain, pulling the necklace out from under my tee. Baz dips his head to the side while studying my necklace. It’s a simple gold chain, thicker than the one I used to wear. There’s no cross—just a spike. Baz quirks his eyebrow at it. “I gave the other one back to Agatha before I left,” I feel the need to explain. “But I was so used to wearing one, so. Um.” “So,” Baz drawls, and it’s almost playful, “you switched out the cross for a stake.” “Wh— No,” I blurt. I squeeze it between my fingers. “It’s not a— It’s just a spike. Just something to fiddle with—!” Baz’s lip curls up. My face is burning. “Relax, Snow,” he says. “I’m kidding.” I emit a feeble laugh and hurriedly drop the necklace to clutch at my drink. “Arse.” I look off and take another gulp of ale. Baz’s eyes watch too closely again. “It looks good on you,” he says once I’ve swallowed. I set the glass down carefully. “Th…thanks.” It’s extremely bizarre to be sat across from Baz in any sort of setting—for it to be something so friendly as a pub is extra strange. And then for him to be like this? A little unguarded, a little playful? Complimenting me? My stomach’s all in knots. “Um. Your hair,” I start without meaning to, “looks— it looks good like that.” Both of Baz’s eyebrows go up this time. “Oh…?” “I always liked it better when it was loose,” I admit. For some fucking reason. As if we need to trade compliments or something. “You look less like a cartoon villain.” Baz clears his throat. He threads a hand through his hair, pushing it away. It slowly settles back over his forehead anyway, and I’m entranced. He’s so much more tired and haunted looking than he used to be, but his hair certainly hasn’t suffered for it. It’s well kept, with a beautiful sheen, even in the low light of the pub.

Tagging: @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @vkelleyart @charmingladies @itriednottothinkaboutit @fight-surrender @basic-banshee

Sorry if you’ve already been tagged!

[shadowofthelamp]

Mysteries and Memories

Summary:  Other Yugi is curious about his past, and Ryou is interested in both the history of the Items and the fact that he’s a ghost. They decide to talk.

Would you believe I’ve been floating around an idea like this for more than a year? And then I just wrote it out in like an hour at 2am last night and edited it up now. Just go for it, kids. I really like how this came out- I feel actually pretty confident about the characterization, which is nice.

Comments/reblogs//replies/tags are super appreciated!

AO3 Link

Wordcount: 1903

Warnings: None

Ship: Light Other Yugi/Ryou.

“Hello?”

Ryou straightened up as he heard a voice.

“Yugi?”

“It’s… me.”

“Oh, other Yugi then.” Ryou hurried over to unlock the door. “So you wanted to take my offer?”

When he was flustered and glancing away, it was remarkable how little you one could tell him and Yugi apart. They shared a body, of course, but usually Ryou had seen him in duels- confident, ramrod straight, with a barking voice and a confident smirk. Now, he didn’t seem to know what to do. Other than a slight correction of the slouch Yugi always had (really, didn’t he hate being seen as short, why would he slouch, Ryou wondered) the only difference was the way his bangs stuck up like static electricity and how the Puzzle hummed like static from a TV.

“Yes, I… if there’s anything you can do to help, it would be appreciated.”

“Come on in.” Ryou nudged the house slippers towards him with his toe. “I left the Ring in my closet- he didn’t like you being here, but as long as you don’t rob me blind, he’ll just have to deal.”

“I would never-!”

Ryou waved a hand. “Joking, joking. I made some tea so we can talk.” Other Yugi just blinked at that.

“…Okay.” He untied his shoes, then slid the slippers on, plodding into Ryou’s apartment. “It’s kind of a mess in here.”

“I’d say it usually isn’t like this, but it is. It’s livable.” Ryou shrugged. “He doesn’t exactly care about keeping tidy, but as long as he doesn’t cause any more trouble, I’ll let a few dirty dishes slide. Didn’t he help Yugi the other day, when I woke up at the Black Clown?”

“The experience is… fuzzy, but he did.” Other Yugi confirmed.

“See? He’s getting better.” Ryou poured the tea into two glasses. “Sugar?”

“I’ll have one.” Other Yugi sat down, and Ryou plopped a little cube into his drink, before adding two to his own, stirring it around.

“So. You want answers.”

“The Spirit of the Ring seems to have some and I… we don’t exactly get along.” He said slowly.

“I’ve noticed.” Ryou said dryly. “But that puts us on the same playing field- I keep wearing the Ring both because he’s starting to be a bit less of an ass after I helped beat him in the Monster World game, and because I want answers. About who you two are, where the Items came from, anything either of you can give me. If I help you find out who and what you are, then I get what I want.” He leaned forward across the table. “So. Is there anything you remember? Anything at all?”

“I thought I was Yugi for… six months, was it? There was always an itching feeling in the back of my neck that something was off, but he called me out in moments of stress, so all I wanted to do was solve the problem. I had access to his memories, and I assumed any confusion was just due to the fact that I was close to being hurt or something was hurting my friends.” He fiddled with the chain of the Puzzle, links clicking against each other.

“I’m pretty sure he mine knew he was different- he seemed to know you existed, anyways.” Ryou said. “He was trying to impress me, in some weird way. I would have preferred chocolates instead of people in comas, but eh. Live and learn.” Ryou cleared his throat.

“So, he had some idea that he was a separate consciousness, a different soul. He still hasn’t given me a name to call him, though, so although he pretends he’s just holding it back, he doesn’t remember everything either.” He took a sip of his tea. “Let’s lay out what we know. The Items are from Egypt. He’s said he was a robber, stealing valuables like them, and that you were… some kind of protector of them, maybe?”

“That would make sense, but Shadi seems to have that part covered.” He Other Yugi stirred the cubes of sugar, watching them dissolve as heat radiated from the tea. “Sometimes, when the light hit my hands wrong, Yugi’s bracelets and pale skin looked wrong off , like I was wearing a costume. I’m fairly certain I had dark skin.”

Ryou pulled out a small notepad and scribbled that down. “Is there anything else?”

He drummed the nail of his index finger against the table in a sharp staccato. “If there is anything, it’s as if it disappears as soon as I’m aware of it. My soul room is a giant maze, and if I ever find anything, it’s locked away the next time I turn around. It’s frustrating, to say the least.”

“I can imagine.” Ryou said, scratching his pen against the paper. It was something, at least- he’d never seen any soul rooms besides his own. Were they all different or was that something to do with being inside of an Item? Goodness knew that he’d never gotten past the black hole that was the Ring Spirit’s front door, and he’d lost more than a few pieces of soul room that he’d prodded at it with trying. “Your room’s a maze- have you ever tried changing it?”

He nodded. “A few times, but it’s stubborn. I’m in a Puzzle, after all, and it doesn’t like trying to change the rules. What little I can do is always set back once Yugi and I switch, and it’s never more than the entrance.”

“All right, I’m going to try something.” Ryou stood up, walking over to his room and nudging a tall basket full of laundry with his hip on the way. Other Yugi sipped at his tea, looking around the apartment.

Ryou had a video game system set up, as well as notebooks open everywhere. From what he could see, they all had either writings or drawings, probably of Monster World campaigns. He still had the transparent glass cube that had all of them together in it, with Other Yugi holding up a die.

Huh. Either Ryou had fought to keep it or the Ring spirit didn’t care to throw it away. Either one was probably a good sign.

“Found it!” Ryou came out waving a small device that looked sort of like a remote control. It had some colors on the top, set up like piano keys.

“What’s that?”

“An EMF detector. Really, this is more for curiosity’s sake than anything- it helps detect electromagnetic field radiation.”

He just stared blankly at him.

“You can use it to sense a lot of stuff, but right now, it’s useful because it can sense ghosts. I’m just curious how strongly it will detect you, since you’re technically a ghost possessing Yugi right now. The Ring makes it go off even when I’m not wearing it.”

“Huh.” He tilted his head as Ryou approached, and he heard a crackling noise.

“Yep, it’s going to yellow, it can definitely- oh.” He was right in front of Other Yugi now, and the needle strained at red, making an angry buzzing noise. “Huh. I guess it’s stronger when it’s an active possession.”

“I’m not possessing- ”

“I know, I know, you both consented and all that. Still, it was at the edge of pink with the Ring, it’s definitely deep in the red with you. I’ve never tried it when the Ring was on. Maybe this thing isn’t used to active shadow magic?” Ryou hit the side of it, and it started smoking. “Oh. Guess so.” He started walking backwards, and nearly tripped over a chunk of solid foam. Other Yugi jumped up, moving to grab him, when Ryou backed up. “I’m fine! I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I do really need to clean up in here one of these days…” He blew up at his bangs , to get them out of his eyes, turning to walk a few steps and then tossing the EMF meter onto his bed. “Is Yugi watching? I usually don’t,   the Ring spirit gets prickly sometimes if I get in on his time.”

“Not today, but usually.” Other Yugi said. “He said he’d like me to have my space about this.”

“Oh. Well, that was nice of him.” Ryou looked around. “I don’t exactly have much else to offer… want to play a round of duel monsters? No death games or anything, but I didn’t get to play at all during Duelist Kingdom.”

Other Yugi felt around in his pockets. “Let me- ah!” He pulled out his deck. “Yugi usually keeps it in his jacket.”

“Dork.” Ryou said, as if he wasn’t grinning and two feet away from a half-built scale model of a medieval castle.

As it turned out, Ryou was just as ruthless in gaming as the Ring Spirit- if his reckless bravery during the Monster World incident hadn’t convinced Other Yugi of it, this would have done it. He played innocent at first, but used Dark Necrofear to turn his Dark Magician against him. That caused another twinge in his chest, but he wasn’t quite sure why.

“And with dark magic burning, I take out the rest of your life points.” He grinned, shifting the Dark Magician card with the pad of his thumb.

“That was well-played.”

“Well, I got lucky- you had a bad hand at the end there. But yeah, I did pretty well.” He beamed, clearly proud. “Did you get a time limit?”

He glanced at his watch. “Yugi said just be back at the shop by dinner.”

“You should probably go, then.” Ryou handed back the Dark Magician and started collecting his cards.

“I noticed something. When you took the Dark Magician, I… I felt something. I think there’s something with that card.”

Ryou nodded. “I’ll add it to my notes. Just tell me if you come up with anything.” He sighed. “He has a card like that too. Whatever I know, he’ll know, but I don’t think there’s anything you told me that he’d really be able to get much use out of.”

“I appreciate your help anyhow.” He bowed his head, and Ryou reciprocated. “Besides, it was… nice, to not have to deal with life-or-death situations.”

“Don’t I know the feeling. Tell Yugi that either of you are welcome, as long as you call first.” Ryou said, sliding his deck back into its case.

He smiled, setting his own deck back into place. “I’ll be sure to pass it along.”

Ryou rubbed the back of his neck. “And… it was kind of nice, hanging out. After everything with people falling into comas, I kind of backed down on casual friends. This wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

Other Yugi laughed at that. “I’ll take ‘not a disaster’. We’ll see you at school.”

Ryou smiled, and it was a little crooked but a lot charming. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he saw how girls flocked to him. He had a kind of effortless charm that he buried under a quick dark wit and a tendency to get lost in his own head, if the times he’d showed up late for class due to ‘campaign planning’ was any indication. “See you.”

Other Yugi was caught up in thought enough that he almost forgot his sneakers at the door and left in the slippers, which made Ryou laugh.

He liked the sound.

[hotheadhero]

Jouska: A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.

@thefetchingfletcher asked this also!

It’s been a long time since I reblogged the source ask (misread it from the very beginning too) and I’ve been thinking about Azure Moon recently, so I’m going to be lazy(?) and answer this as if I’m writing a drabble for just Caspar. Spoilers for Azure Moon Chapter 14, major (albeit offscreen) character death, and sheer length. Hints of monachopsis, rubatosis, nodus tollens, and lachesism scattered throughout (arguably also mauerbauertraurigkeit, albeit indirectly). There are also hints of suicide here and there if you know where to look (disclaimer: I have encountered very little of it myself and am making it up as I go).

Whatif I had stopped him?

Whatif I had intervened then and there?

Theywere weeks out from the event, yet Caspar couldn’t stop replaying his uncleRandolph’s final moments in his head. How he’d begged for mercy, tried in vainto appeal to Dimitri’s sense of reason and his heart. How Dimitri merely shuthim down, dug the nail in deeper, until Randolph’s very voice bled with tormentand he cried out for the mad king to stop. No doubt his uncle had imagined all of the men he’d fought with, dyingbefore his eyes even as he lay helpless to stop them. Imagined Fleche there onthe guillotine with them, eyes wide and panicked and accusing in their finalmoments. Why didn’t you save me, brother? those cyan eyes demanded. Whydidn’t you try harder to save your people?

Perhapshe was merely imagining those things, for Fleche was not here now; and byvirtue of not being here, she could not be dead. Perhaps he was merelyprojecting his own thoughts onto another, in some… futile attempt to come togrips of exactly what it was that he was enabling.

Itwas no secret to any of them that Caspar hailed from the Empire. He was the only one of them hereif one excluded the runaways who’d fled Emperor Edelgard’s iron grip on the southern Adrestian lands. Everyday he expected one of the Lions of Faerghus to come for his head, to lop it off as theyhad Fleche’s in his vivid nightmares, laughing scornfully, maniacally, justas Dimitri had done before Byleth intervened and killed Randolph with one blow. Byleth was no better, either—the Ashen Demon come back to life, murdering Caspar’s blood relative as coldly and emotionlessly as Caspar might take out the trash. Itdidn’t matter what they’d said to Dimitri after that. How they missed theDimitri they once knew. It was all a ploy. A feigned attempt at emotionality, at humanity.At least Dimitri had been obvious about how he’d felt, and confirmed outright thesuspicions Caspar had had of him since coming back to the monastery and theLions last year.

Andyet… Had anything Dimitri said truly been wrong?

Justbecause the one who’d delivered the message was clearly unsettled did not meanCaspar could dismiss it out of hand. The mad king had a point. Even if this waswar, with every life they took, all of their hands turned redder and redder,the poll of blood widening at their fingertips, soaking into their skin, so that noteven the most vigorous of scrubbings could clear the taint away. And Caspar hadbeen so eager to prove his worth on the battlefield, so ready to kill anybodywho stood in his way, allegiance be damned. Was it truly justice if he had tokill and murder friend and foe in order to achieve it? He’d deserted his house to be here; hisfamily, his country, the princess. He’d slain countless citizens of theEmpire as Dimitri’s and Byleth’s willing pawn, even enjoyed it—did that makehim any better than his friends in Faerghus, who at least had the ties of (separate) country binding them? What must they think of a deserter who readily killed those hailing from a country he once called home?

Werethey too waiting for him to snap? To take his revenge upon Dimitri, as nephew tothe slain?

Hecouldn’t deny the hatred he felt burning in his bones, threatening to overwhelm him in afever pitch if he just closed his eyes and gave in. And yet Caspar couldnot so easily shake his memories of the Faerghus prince from five years ago,the first of his house to extend a welcoming hand to the new transfer, one with whom he’d laughedand cried and joked and sparred countless times in the past. The memories feltso far away now; but they were as much a part of him as his very name. Could hereally leave all that behind, even for the sake of justifiable revenge? It washis duty as a Bergliez to avenge the death of his uncle; yet impossible hope against hopestayed his hand. He had to believe the Dimitri of old would come back one day,or else everything he had fought for up to this point would be for naught. Hewould be nothing but a traitor, a fool who mindlessly killed for his homeland’s enemy, a monster smiling but not the less grotesque, carrying out the dyingwishes of a mad king, a walking corpse.

Hecouldn’t bear the idea of facing Linhardt now, even as he wished his old friend could be here right now to comfort him and tell him that he was doing something right.

(Yethe knew Warp magic did not work that way; they’d tried plenty hard five years before—)

Therewas so much he wanted to ask Dimitri. What happened, what insult had the Empiredealt him so long ago that he would chase after them so single-mindedly now, whatif anything he could do to make it better. But Caspar had no doubt in his mindthat if he were to approach Dimitri now, he would simply order his head cut off,or maybe simply his tongue so that Caspar could neither protest nor questionhis orders. If he persisted, Dimitri would do worse—just as he would have doneRandolph, had Byleth not intervened.

(Worse yet, he did not know that even his death would cheer the prince of Faerghus up. He’d heard in Dimitri’s voice that some part of him was still horrified by all the death he invited and caused, even if the greater part of him thrilled in it and wanted more. In other words, if he confronted Dimitri now, his life too would be in vain, just as his uncle Randolph’s had been before him.)

AndByleth was no better either—willingly letting Dimitri use them “evenshould the flesh fall from their bones” even though their blood ties were nomore tightly-hewn than his. Caspar had almost forgotten just how it was that Bylethhad earned the nickname they’d held before leading the Blue Lions. Now hewould never forget.

Norcould he confide in any of the other Lions who followed Dimitri; not Mercedes or Annette, not even Sylvain or Felix. Caspar had no way of knowing how many of themapproved of Dimitri’s mad tirade, how many of them had their ears peeled foreven the slightest hint that he was cracking under the pressure of being alone. And so Caspar had no choice butto bear it alone, even as it wounded him, bent his back and shoulders and tore athis guts until he was little more than a throbbing mass of pain andconfusion and regret. What must Linhardt think of me now? Caspar thoughtmiserably. He knew before anyone else that I wanted to switch houses. Doeshe still think of me when he hears news from the battlefront? Or does myface morph into Dimitri’s now, laughing maniacally while mowing hundreds of enemy soldiers down?

Goddess,he was even starting to think of the Empire as his enemy now. Were the ties ofblood and old friendships really so tenuous?

Caspardidn’t remember sitting down or dropping his head into his hands; but helifted his head now with a shuddering, despairing laugh. Maybe he shouldgo confront Dimitri, he thought to himself; put an end to this stupid farce once andfor all. It was as clear as day that he did not belong here. A lone Adrestian amongFaerghans, a red wolf lost amid the blue. At least death would be better thanthis uncertainty; and even if Dimitri made his end neither swift nor merciful,there would be no more of this unbearable tension. Just one clean stroke, andhis life would be over, especially if Byleth intervened again to spare him thetorture.

Itwasn’t as if he’d made much use of his life anyways.

Aturncoat hiding amongst the wolves. His pulse quickened in his chest; Casparimagined it was trying to burst clear out from the bones that caged it in. Anaccurate analogy for one such as he, chained by the corpses piled at his feetto a false ideal, far from everything he had once held dear. He didn’t have tosee the bodies to be certain that his older brother and his family lay deadnow, as did his father, the indomitable Minister of Military Affairs. They wouldhave gone after him first; Count Bergliez was too dangerous a target to letwander free. Perhaps some part of him yet wanted him to stay alive for the sakeof the fallen, to procure revenge if at all possible and flee with his life ifhe could not. And yet, when had Caspar ever behaved like a proper heir? Howfitting it would be if he died as he lived, a rebel to the very end, spittingon the face of his lost inheritance as surely as he’d spit upon his country andhis family. For even if he hadn’t killed Uncle Randolph himself, his inactionhad killed him as surely as if he and not Byleth had wielded the blade. Casparwould never forget the look on his face as he died, as surely as he wouldn’tforget the smile on Dimitri’s face as he spoke so callously of gouging Randolph’s eyesout and dragging him down to his level—

Casparhadn’t even realized he’d started laughing again in earnest. Quiet though thesound was, it was inhuman, not even his own. The cackling of a monster. Howcould he ever have thought he’d make it through this war whilst keeping his idealspure, wings white, hands clean?

Perhapshe would go seek Dimitri out after all. Caspar never had been one forinaction; none of the Bergliezes were. No doubt his aunt Fleche would do thesame in his shoes, if she learned of the fate with which Uncle Randolph had met.

Hecouldn’t let her throw her life away like that; for if she lived, she was theonly living relative he had left. He couldn’t lose another relative when somany of them had already fallen. All of the tragedy that had befallen theirfamily was his fault—and it was his responsibility to end it.

The laughter continued, brokenand despairing. If it would silence these coward voices, then by the Goddess,he would act.

[immortals-malec]

I Really Hate Full Moons

Read on ao3  or continue down below. (and please let me know what y’all think! and please reblog as well!) Alec Lightwood is fast asleep, wrapped up his blankets feeling warm and content, or at least he was until, the curtains were pulled open and the bright morning sun shined right in his face, he groaned, burying his face into the pillow, trying to block out the sunlight. Right now he just wants to sleep.

But that goes out the window, when he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Alexander, pup, time to rise and face the day," Magnus's soft voice told him, Alec let out a low growl, opening one eye to see his fiance standing, there looking beautifully breathtaking, like he always does, even during the morning hours.

"Pup? Magnus, babe. I told you not to call me that," Alec reminded him, his voice is raspy with sleep, as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

Magnus chuckled with a smile on his face. "Can't help it, my love, you remind me of a puppy sometimes."

Alec hummed, finally getting a good look at Magnus, now that he was somewhat awake, seeing how he was fully dressed, no make up on, but he had his jewelry on though. "Fully dressed already. I see, huh?" He asked, sitting up

“Well, yes Alexander. I had to get up early to get your favorite breakfast for you," Magnus answered, Alec gave a look, and went to open his month before Magnus interrupted him. "Before you said it, no I didn't buy anything to cook for breakfast, not after what happened last time. I went down to our favorite bakery and got it," he let out a sigh of relief, that's good both he and Magnus were chaotic disasters in the kitchen, they nearly burnt down their kitchen the last time they cooked.

"That's really sweet, baby," he stated, smiling lovingly at Magnus, who returned it with one of his own.

"I thought so," Magnus said, Alec leaned forward closing his eyes, and he gets the hint and closed the distance between them with a kiss, Alec tries to make the kiss last longer, before Magnus pulled away, so Alec fell forward just a tad, and frowned at not getting his morning kisses. "Come on, you gotta eat, it's a big day today, the first full moon of the new year."

Oh shit, how could've he forgotten about the full moon tonight, and before you ask, the other reason why Magnus always calls him 'pup' sometimes other then being he reminds Magnus of a puppy sometimes and why the full moon is a big deal, is because he's a werewolf. Yes, a werewolf, they actually exist, and he had to find out the hard way by getting attacked, one night and everything changed, but Magnus, he stayed by his side, helping him with the changes, somehow making him fall more in love, even though that wasn't possible.

"Yep, big day today," Alec sighed, throwing back the covers, god he really hates full moons, so much.

After breakfast, the day seemed to pass by somewhat fast, Alec and Magnus stayed home, as they always do, during the full moon nights, watched mindless shows off of Netflix, until it was close to dinner time, to which Magnus ordered takeout from one of their favorite restaurants, and they ate together and talked about some of their wedding details, while the sun had began to set outside.

"You finished, my angel?" Magnus asked, as Alec stared down at his empty plate, looking very uncomfortably, a sign he was about to begin his change. Alec just nodded, biting on his lip. Magnus smiled softly, getting up from his chair, grabbing their plates, he stopped and gives Alec a kiss on the forehead before heading into the kitchen.

Magnus sets the dishes into the sink and stores what's left of their food into the fridge, so it wouldn't go bad, before turning back to the dishes in the sink. It's a few minutes before he felt Alec coming up behind him and embracing him, burying his face into his neck, he grinned at this, continuing with washing until Alec planted a kiss on his neck and he felt his fangs with the kiss, he knew then that it was close. Magnus turned off the water and twisted himself around to face Alec, who was feeling his fangs with his tongue. "Now, my love?"

Alec looked at him with those big doe eyes of his, which flash quickly to bright green than back to their normal hazel, nodding his head. "Yeah, baby," he replied, Magnus gives him a reassuring smile before taking his hand and leading him out of their kitchen.

"Let's go, pup," Magnus decided to tease his fiance again with the petname.

Alec rolled his eyes and growled a bit. "Enough with the "pup" name, Magnus." Who just giggled, tightening his grip on Alec's hand as he led them up the stairs.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Alec immediately stripped out of his clothes, not wanting to rip them when he shifted later on, just leaving himself standing his underwear, he breathed in deeply, feeling his body ache as the urge to change came on stronger and stronger, Magnus walked out of his work room, where he normally keeps the chains, holding them in his hands, he held out his hand, shaking his head at Magnus with those chains. "No wait here."

Magnus raised an eyebrow in confusion, watching Alec disappear off into another room, what the hell was he doing? It's not long before Alec comes back, this time with a different kind of chain, and he knew which one it was right off the bat, it was one that Alec had insisted on buying along time ago and Magnus really disliked the chains and liked to keep them hidden away, but somehow he just kept finding them. Alec handed the chains to him, and goes to sit down in front of the radiator, he stared down at the chains his hands, getting down onto his knees. "You sure about this, Alexander?"

"Yes, I'm sure, babe," Alec answered quickly, looking at his fiance, Magnus sighed heavily, giving in, as much as he hates these chains, because he knows it'll hurt Alec, when he changes, he can't change Alec's mind to use the normal chains, because Alec is that fucking stubborn.

"Okay, love," Magnus said, and gets to work with the chains, looping them around Alec, who grimaced at the sliver against his bare skin - sliver actually doesn't kill werewolves, like myths said, it's just really uncomfortable for them when they're about to shift, and when they shift, it hurts a lot, but it doesn't do anything when they're in human form - he hooks the chains to the radiator, making sure they're nicely secure, and sits back to look at Alec. "Do you need me to put down a pillow for you?"

"No, babe I'm fin-" Alec's sentence is cut short by an involuntary growl escaping him, his eyes flashing to green once again. Magnus smiled softly, placing a gentle hand on his face to kiss his forehead, then nose and finally lips, then getting up from the floor.

"Alright, angel, just let me know if you need anything," Magnus told him, Alec nods, his green eyes reflecting in the moonlight now as he watched Magnus, pick up the normal chains and head back down stairs.

Magnus dropped the chains on the floor by the staircase and walked over to the couch, he grabbed his book from the table and flopped down on the couch, flipping his book open to the page he had bookmarked, he hoped that reading would get his mind off of Alec chained up like a monster upstairs, he hated doing it, but Alec told him that it was for the best, that he'd be chained up, because he didn't want to take chances on hurting anyone or Magnus himself, a few times he was able to get Alec to test out full moon nights without being chained up, some of the nights were a success but the others? Not so much, it ended up with Alec disappearing and some wild animals ending up.. well dead. And so they went back doing this.

Within the next ten minutes of laying there, trying to keep his mind off of Alexander, Alec's howls and cries sounding more dog like then human and it sounded like there was pain mixed in with it. Magnus bit on his lip. "He said not to do anything, just let him be, Magnus, just let him be."

Going with Alec's wishes to be left alone and in pain, only lasts about about an hour and half, close to two hours, before Magnus just can't take it anymore, he tossed his book onto the table, and hops up from his spot, he made his way back up the stairs, Alec is snarling and whining at the same time when Magnus laid his eyes on him now, that he's shifted, his green eyes glowing in the dark hallway, Alec saw him out of the corner of his eye and turned to him and growled loudly, tugging his chains.

Magnus walked over to the radiator and sat down in front Alec, who snarled again. "Alexander, just be quiet, the snarling is gonna get you nowhere." And Alec immediately stopped and gives him the wide eyes, the same wide eyes that Magnus loves so much and never can say no to, he sighed and moved closer to him, reaching out to cup Alec's furry face with his hand.

Alec tried to move closer to him, but whined loudly at the chains against his skin, Magnus looked down at Alec's arm and sees the irritated skin trying to heal from the chains but it didn't no good when the chains went right back to rubbing the irritated skin, his heart stopped for a minute staring at the skin, "Alexander," he said, Alec whined again, and he lifted his head up to connect with Alec's pained but, stern eyes, telling yes he's in pain, but leave him like this, but he couldn't do that. "Alexander, no, we need to change these now, I don't want you hurting, love. Please let me change them."

Alec stared at him, trying to stay stern with it, but hearing the pleading tone in Magnus' voice and seeing it in his eyes, he can't help but to give in, and also he really did needed get out of these chains because he was in some amount of pain. He nodded his head, and Magnus smiled softly, and made quick work on getting the chains off, he let out what was supposed to be a sigh but just sounded like a snort, at the chains being off of him.

"Now, angel I'll be right back, with the old chains, don't move," Magnus kissed his nose before hurrying down the stairs to grab the chains, he had left there earlier, just as he picked up the chains, Magnus hears a howl followed by a loud crash, his eyes widened and he forgets the chains to run back up the stairs, hoping that maybe there was some other werewolf in their neighborhood that broke loose. But alas it wasn't, Magnus is greeted with an empty hallway, with a broken window, glass everywhere and no Alec, he sighed, knowing this might happen, normally Alec could resist the urge to look at the moon, but sometimes as Alec told him one time after shifting it's hard to resist, because the moon is calling out to you.

Magnus pinned a large blanket up to the broken window, he already knew where Alec was most likely heading to, the forest, that wasn't too far from their neighborhood, he had went there in the past when he got loose, so that's probably where he was at, after that he throws on a jacket, shoes and headed out the door.

He had hoped to not run into anyone, but as it would seem fate wasn't on his side tonight, because his and Alec's next door neighbor and close friend, Helen Blackthorn, was taking out the trash, when she noticed him. "Hey Magnus," she greeted with a smile, Magnus stopped and turned to her. "Whatcha doing out tonight, normally you stay in, when it's a full moon."

Magnus chuckled nervously. "Well, yeah I usually do, but um, my dog got out again," yep that's the cover story he came up with one time Helen or her wife who takes out the trash from time to time as well, asked where he was going when the first time Alec got loose, and he's used it ever since whenever, Alec has gotten loose and, he ran into Helen or her wife, Aline.

"Again, Magnus? Haven't you and Alec heard, something wild has been killing pets and other wild animals lately, they've been putting out traps to capture or kill it," Helen explained, well fuck, he hasn't heard that, first he knows it isn't Alec, since he's been chained up the past two months during the full moons. He needs to find Alec now.

"I didn't know that. Thanks for telling me, Helen."

"Anytime, so good luck on finding him, maybe you and Alec should look into getting a cat, best thing Aline and I ever did. Artemis wonders off every night, but she always comes home."

Magnus nodded, not having time for this anymore, knowing Alec could end up in one of the traps that had been set up, either hurt or even worse dead. "Well I am gonna go find him then, see you later Helen!" He waved her off, and makes a run towards the forest, he heard Helen calling out to him, but couldn't understand what she said.

When he entered the forest, immediately seeing the prints in the ground, tells him that Alec had most definitely came this way, so he followed the prints and the breaks in branches as well. Magnus makes sure, that he's watching where he's going in the forest, he really doesn't need to get caught in one of those traps, Helen told him about.

"Alexander! Alexander, where are you!?" Magnus shouted, crossing his arms, trying to keep himself warm from the cold ass wind, for a second he heard nothing before a long howl came not to far away from where he was walking to, so he followed where the howl had come from, and comes across a long hill down, he bit his lip and slowly made his way down, he can't misstep and fall down the hill, break any of his bones or worse his neck.

Magnus can hear growls and grunts as he neared the end of the hill, but couldn't see anything yet, until he stopped and sees a figure, who he already knows is Alec with his head bent down and something in his mouth, son of a bitc- Alec did not just do what he think he did, and Alec can sense he's being watched turned around and looked up at Magnus, with a quite big coyote, hanging out of his mouth. "Oh my god, really, Alexander?"

Alec watched him with big green eyes filled with, well Magnus couldn't tell, as he jumped down from the hill. "I don't need you to hunt for me, Alexander, we've food, love. I know the wolf in you insists on doing this, but you gotta tell that wolf that we've food at home and you take care of me." Magnus reminded, Alec dropped the coyote from his mouth and pouted, keeping eyes on his fiance.

"And now we gotta replace another window, because the wolf in you wanted to kill things for me," Alec followed Magnus's movements as he walked closer to him and as soon as Magnus' foot came close to a patch of tall grass, he saw something very shiny, Alec's mind immediately jumped to protect Magnus, from what he knew was a trap. Magnus wasn't paying attention, still talking about something when he lifted up his foot to step into the tall grass, Alec let out a loud growl.

Startled, Magnus locked eyes with Alec, who broke off into a run towards him, he didn't have the time to react before Alec jumped onto him, knocking him on the ground hard, but in the progress of being knocked onto the ground, he heard a snap! and than a loud howl coming from Alec, he sat up quickly, to see Alec in pain, whining loudly as he tried to move his foot which was stuck in a... bear trap. He must've seen the bear trap in the grass when he got close to it, and he pushed him out of the way, to save him.

He protected me, he saved me. He thought to himself, as Alec howled in pain again, breaking him away from his thoughts, Magnus crawled across the ground to get to Alec, reaching his love, he went right to work on getting him free from the trap, Alec watches him with a soft but pained look on his face, it was hard but with most of his strength he opened the bear trap and freed Alec's foot.

Alec was right up after Magnus released his foot, his hands or paws were checking for any signs of injuries on Magnus from pushing him onto the ground, "Alexander, angel I am fine, you didn't hurt me, you saved me, love. You saved me," Magnus tells him, cupping Alec's face and kissing his nose, before pulling him into a tight hug.

Alec doesn't return the hug for a moment, shocked by the quick hug, but then he melted into Magnus' embrace, wrapping his arms around him and closing his eyes. And they stay like this for awhile, until Alec moved his foot and a bit of pain shot up his entire leg, he whined, pulling away from Magnus, some to look down at his foot.

And Magnus finally was able to get a real good look at Alec's foot, there was blood all over the top of his foot, but through the blood, he could see the holes in his foot, from the bear trap, they were trying to heal, but since the holes were really deep, it was taking a bit longer, then it usually does. "Oh, angel, come on, let's get you home and clean up your wound," Alec nodded and gave him a smile, and Magnus couldn't help but to giggle at him, with those wide eyes and fangs poking out of the smile. He's so adorable.

It takes them awhile to get back home, having to be careful with sneaking Alec back into the neighborhood, they didn't need to get noticed by some nosy old woman calling the police on them, and with Alec's injury, he's much slower with walking. But when they do, they head straight up the stairs, and Magnus disappeared off into the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit while Alec laid down on their bed, keeping his injured, bleeding foot off of the sheets. Alec leaned up a bit, when he saw the lights in the bathroom turn off, and Magnus exited out, holding the first-aid kit and a towel. "Let's get your foot cleaned up, my love." With that, he begins to clean off the blood, Alec winced at this but didn't make a single noise, once that was done, Magnus could finally see how bad it was, well it did look worse with the blood but now with it cleaned off, it didn't look as bad, but still was bad. Magnus opened up the kit and takes out the cream that helps keep the wounds clean. "Alexander, this might sting," he warns, squeezing some of the cream onto his hand, Alec nodded, and Magnus took this as his go-head to use the cream, he rubbed the cream into the wounds, Alec doesn't jerk or howl, but he does grit his teeth, but that's about it. "Okay, last is the bandages then, you're good, angel," Magnus said, bringing out the bandages, Alec doesn't say anything, just watches with a lovestruck soft smile on his face as Magnus wrapped up his foot up with the bandages. "And we're done, does it feel better?" he lifted his head up to see Alec, looking so adorable, with his fangs peaking out of the smile, he has, and his eyes are shining with so much love, and he's pretty sure that the injury does feel a bit better, Magnus grinned, standing up and leaned forward to cup Alec's face and plant a kiss on his nose. "I love you." Alec replied with like a growlish noise, that sounded like he was trying to say "I love you too," and he pouted, when it didn't come out how he wanted it to, Magnus snickered, kissing his nose again. "Be right back," with he picked up the kit and headed back into the bathroom, as Alec got more comfortable on the bed, the energy from the wolf inside him was fading off fast, so he was feeling tired and achy from hell, and the bed curved along his body, helping those achy muscles, it's not long before his eyes start to feel heavy and Alec can't fight the urge to close his eyes anymore, he closed them and began to drift off. Magnus came out of the bathroom, about two minutes later, to see Alec on his side, breathing almost evenly, which was a sign he was close to falling asleep, during the times when Alec got loose because of losing control with his wolf, after he'd find Alec and bring him back in control, Alec'd tell him or actually growl at him, to chain him back up, but there'd be a few times where Alec would be too tired out from running around in the woods for a few minutes, hunting or being free and just give up and go to sleep, in bed, like right now, a tiny smile spreads across his face, as he stripped off his clothes from today and grabbed a pair of sleep pants, put them on and slid into his spot on the bed, immediately he feels Alec move closer and wrapped his arm, to which he chuckled softly at. Only after a few of laying there, in Alec's embrace, he felt his body relax and his eyelids beginning to droop on him, so Magnus closed his eyes and soon he falls fast asleep, in Alec's hold.

When Alec awoke in the morning, he felt a lot better then he did the night before, he felt more at content, because his wolf wasn't restless anymore, his foot felt ten times better, but mainly the reason why he was more at content because he woke up with Magnus in his arms, so he could get the morning cuddles he missed out on yesterday. He smiled and buried his face into Magnus' neck, planting a kiss there on his neck, snuggling closer to him. And Magnus stirred at this, letting out a small moan, slowly waking up, Alec decides to attack his neck with kisses, to help him wake up, it takes a minute before Magnus reacts to the kisses on his neck, by wiggling and and giggling softly at Alec's lips on his skin. "Go-good morning, Alexander," Magnus manged to get out in between his giggles. Alec smiled into his neck, and replied. "Good morning, baby." Magnus grinned, as well, his eyes still closed. "Feeling better, my love?" "Yeah, so much better, so much," Alec answered, nuzzling into Magnus' neck.

"Mmh, I'm glad to hear that, angel," he hummed, cuddling closer to Alec, feeling the love they have for each other in this moment. They laid there for a while, just doing nothing but holding onto each other, until Alec let go of Magnus and started to move onto his back. "Maybe I should go down to our bakery for breakfast," Alec said, stretching out his foot and winced at the pain that shot through his leg, nowhere near as bad as it was last night, but still it hurt. Magnus rolled over onto his other side, now he can see Alec, he rested his head on Alec's shoulder and threw his arm across Alec's waist to keep him from getting out of bed. "Alexander, love, just shut up, it's early, we were up half of the night, let's just lay here and sleep for a bit longer, okay?" For a second Alec doesn't say anything, but then he kisses Magnus' head and softly said. "Okay, baby, okay."

[frostbitten-figures]

Linked- A prequel to the Corruptundra AU

Takes place right after Annihilate’s revival in the Corruptundra AU; how Dominus was befriended by Chel.

It is recommended to read this fic so as to understand future events on this blog.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

The chains binding his arms kept his powers in check, they had said. Dominus repeated this like a mantra in his mind as he was lead through the dark corridor, able to see the distant sparkling glow of the Tree through the thin, dark wood walls.

His eye was dull with exhaustion, and he didn’t even put up a fight as he was lead to what could very well be his doom.

Dominus was tired. Tired of his small, insignificant existence, tired of running from a seemingly omnipresent enemy… tired of playing the victim.

He could potentially destroy his captors. Even without his powers… he was so much bigger and stronger than them. They were puny, weak shapes… while he was created for the sole purpose of killing their kind.

And yet… he remained docile, silently scanning his surroundings for a potential escape route, should he regain the will to move. His core thrummed softly, the energy within seeming to pulse with anticipation. Deep down, he wanted to shatter them. He wanted to smear their dust across the walls, crush them into bits and laugh, like he came close to doing just a few months before.

The blue square leading him through the old building was smaller than the others. She was a weakling; the only reason she was still alive was because, if he was being truthful, Dominus was a bit afraid of her. Just how much magical potential was packed into that small, ten-inch tall shape?

Dominus himself was a staggering eight feet, yet even in his more powerful form, he was slain by this kid and her friends. She didn’t have the sheer power of the Treeangle on her side anymore, but Dominus was willing to bet that she could still at least buy enough time for her teammates to find a power source if he chose to attack.

Dominus huffed, his eye flickering in mild annoyance. If only these chains were gone…. He’d be at his full power. Even after his defeat, he was a force to be reckoned with. He’d survived, no… thrived out in the wilderness for months without the Tree’s light. Surely he was powerful enough to best a tiny square.

His angered thoughts came to a sudden halt as the miniscule shape paused at the end of the hallway, turning a corner and opening the door. Bright lights assaulted Dominus’s vision, and he hissed, shaking his head.

His horns flicked downward in mild irritation, and he snorted, “What’s the holdup? He tilted his head, glowering down at the small being. His voice was laced with bitter mirth as he hummed, “Is the executioner busy?”

The square chirped indignantly, and Dominus felt her grip on his wrist falter. She turned to face him, huffing. “No one is exe…ex...” She struggled on the words; she was obviously young, hardly even half the height of an average adult shape. “No one is executing you.”

Dominus’s eye narrowed, the pupil thinning to a catlike slit. He hissed, “Then why’d ya bring me here? Aren’t I a danger to keep around?” He held up his hands. The square was carried along, letting out a startled squeak as she was lifted into the air. Dominus chuckled darkly, “I can crush ya like a bug, even with these chains… I’m a monster.”

The square barked, “No, you’re not!” She floated up to be at eye level with the beast, her eyes flashing with determination. “You’re not a monster… just misunderstood.”

With that, the tiny shape darted through the door, dragging Dominus along. The pink menace gave only a halfhearted groan in protest as he was yanked along. His eye flashed with anger, yet he said nothing, blinking rapidly to adjust to the sudden brightness.

His eye widened, however, as he realized where he was.

“Blighted roots…” he muttered. He looked around, surveying his surroundings. He glanced at the square for a moment, mumbling a hissed, “You didn’t…”

The square nodded rapidly, dashing around the room. “I convinced Arliss to help me get all your stuff outta that old cave.” She landed upon a desk, leaning against some DJ equipment. “You can stay with us now. It’s not much, but… it’s our home… and maybe you’ll see it as home, too.”

Dominus stared, awestruck. He looked around, a shocked sort of nostalgia filling his core. He stuttered, “You… you brought… all of my stuff here?”

The square nodded, flying over to sit on his shoulder. She began to list off the items and furniture, “The rock band posters, the music equipment, even that ratty old couch!” She pointed to the pullout couch in the corner, cringing a bit. “We uh… we found a spare mattress in the basement… it’s a bit dusty, but it’s better than sleeping on a couch, right?”

Dominus gave a small nod. “Uh… yeah, I guess.” His horns flicked upward as he heard a sudden click. He looked down to see as the glowing chains around his arms started to… fade… “You’re really letting me go?” He glanced at the square, incredulous. “Even after what I did?”

The tiny hero smiled brightly, chirping. Her eyes glimmered with a hopeful glow as she squeaked, “You couldn’t have always been like that… maybe you were lonely…” She hovered before him, holding out a hand. “I don’t want anyone to be lonely… so… do you want to be part of my family? We can show you how to be a good person… and you can have friends, too…”

Dominus stared at the square for a long while, shaking a bit. The heroes seemed to… actually care about him. They’d gotten all of his old stuff and brought it here… even arranged it the way it used to be. His old, broken DJ equipment was fixed and cleaned up as if brand new, and the whole room shone with an ambient energy, as if all the negativity had washed away, replaced with… hope.

The pink menace clenched and unclenched his fists. He stared at his claws, contemplative. His gaze landed on the tiny square again, and he winced.

“Even if I wasn’t a… bad guy…” He hesitated. “Why would you let a complete stranger in your house?”

The cyan shape let out a giggle. “Well, you won’t be a stranger for long.” She held out a hand to shake. “The name’s Chel. What’s yours?”

Dominus felt a tiny smile beginning to creep up the edges of his mouth. Almost robotically, he extended a hand. “M-my name… my name is…”

He could still destroy her. He was still just as dangerous. He’d shattered her without regret, without even knowing that she could revive herself. He’d knowingly attempted to kill the poor kid… and a tiny part of him still wanted to.

A room and some moved furniture didn’t change that. Although he could smell the distant fragrance of freshly baked chocolate cookies coming from a covered platter on the table… he couldn’t let himself slip. He looked at the square, wincing as he noticed the tentative smile spreading across her face.

He sighed, horns flicking back. Well, he was here now…

“My name’s Dominus… nice to meet you.”

[qwertythepopstarian08]

JSAB AU Fanfic: Imposter

Description: Taking place in the Wonderful Nightmare AU, Blixer has been captured by a revived Suenami, locked away and forced to do his bidding as a veritable war machine. Just as his hopes are dwindling, an unlikely savior comes to his aid… or perhaps, it’s who he expected after all.

Warnings: Major character death, violence, and paranoia. Angst!

Wow, two fanfics in one day!

The Wonderful Nightmare AU is based off of @small--crcle !!! The WN AU was created by me, but the characters belong to @plaquebeat

The purpose of this fic was to show how dire this AU is. There’s no real happy ending, no matter what route is taken. Also, I really love Kubix’s impersonation powers and can’t wait for them to be canonically used again, so I included those in this story, heheheh.

Also, forewarning for... ahem... certain readers (cough cough Rayne). This fic deviates from how I’d normally portray these characters, as well as how they are portrayed in the canon blog. I love your characters, New!! But angst!!

((Reblogs are appreciated!!))

The door to the cellar creaked open, a faint glow spilling in from the outside world. The musty smell of dust and mildew was filtered out, a fresh, crisp breeze rushing in as someone stepped inside, their boots lightly tapping against the harsh, concrete floors.

Blixer’s horns flicked in the direction of the sound, and he slowly raised his head.

The magical chains binding him to the room clanked and shook as he tried to stand, his eye glimmering in slight curiosity. He hissed softly as the light assaulted his retinas, having not seen any source of light in days.

For a moment, the light filled him with hope; he hadn’t been outside for a long time. The last time he’d seen Kubix… or any of his family, for that matter, seemed so long ago, although the calendar that he’d taken to writing on said otherwise.

Just three short months ago, he’d been kidnapped by his worst enemy. Just about ninety days prior to today, he’d been forced to say goodbye to his friends, torn away from his life in favor of serving Suenami as the manic shape’s living weapon. His powers were valuable. Although he wasn’t infected with the mutagenic pink virus, he was still a strong shape, and arguably, his sentience made him a more effective fighter. He couldn’t count how many shapes he’d been forced to shatter. As much as it hurt to admit, the more he fought, the less he felt….

As he blinked tears away to clear his vision, the small hiss grew into an aggressive snarl, his gaze focusing on the horrid shape before him. Suenami entered the room, looking a bit less… smug than usual. Blixer narrowed his eye, watching carefully as the other pink shape stepped towards him.

The chains around him did little to restrict his movements, as long as he didn’t try to leave the room, but they were quite cumbersome and heavy, making the effort to move more of a bother than anything. They didn’t even bind him directly to the wall; Blixer supposed that they were meant to break his spirit more than anything… until there was nothing left but the urge to fight.

However, each time Suenami entered, Blixer feared the worst, counting down the days until the manic shape grew bored of the novelty of having captured Paradise’s hero… the days until he was finally infected and turned into a complete monster. With each passing day, Blixer’s will to escape waned, and he found less and less energy to fight.

Exhausted, the small shape settled on just arching up a bit, his horns flicking back as his eye flashed threateningly.

Suenami twitched, but he didn’t seem afraid, staring down at Blix with an unreadable gaze. His eye shone dully in the low light, and Blixer caught what he thought to be a frown curving at his captor’s mouth.

Blixer fidgeted, a bit off put. Few things could make Suenami lose his trademark grin. It was almost as eternal as New Game’s, although the sight of it made the former hero’s stomach turn.

Quietly, Suenami addressed him, “Blixer…” He seemed to flinch a bit when the small shape’s growl increased in volume. It was almost as if he was… afraid. When he continued, his voice was tinged with a desperate, faltering tone. “Please… calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Like I’d…” Blixer huffed, managing to stand… or at least crouch; he hadn’t stood in so long… His eye twitched angrily. “Like I believe that…”

This was the very monster who turned his friends and family into abominations… the very same monster that nearly cost him his life and sanity. And now, this demon expected him to believe a single word that he said? Disgraceful.

Before Suenami could respond, Blixer rushed at him, screeching. He narrowly sidestepped, causing the feral shape to hit the wall with a loud crash. Blixer hissed, standing shakily. He only managed to stand for a few moments before his legs gave out, forcing him to kneel.

Not missing a beat, Suenami raised a hand, creating a barrier around Blixer and trapping the young shape in the corner of the room. Blixer screamed, clawing futilely at the glasslike wall. HIs eye flashed threateningly.

He glared up at Suenami, snarling, “Whatever you’ve come to tell me… I don’t want to hear it!” He shook his head, his hands glowing. “I’m not a monster… I’m not going to keep shattering people for you…”

Suenami stepped closer, his eye starting to glow not pink, but a soft shade of… cyan. Blixer froze, a small whimper escaping him as he stared up at his captor…

The other shape kneeled so that he was at eye level with Blixer, exhaling softly. He couldn’t enter the barrier, but he was just close enough so that the small shape felt threatened.

“I’m not asking you to shatter anyone; I need to tell you something.”

Blixer snapped, digging his claws into the barrier. “Like I have time to talk to you of all people!” He bristled, his horns flicking back as he bared his fangs. “The only shape I feel like shattering right now… is… you!”

Suenami narrowed his eye, sighing. With a snap of his fingers, the barrier around Blixer faded from a toxic pink… into a soft, familiar blue. Blix tilted his head, hissing lowly in agitation.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The small shape snarled, “You’re more powerful? You can use cyan corruption? You-” He was cut off by a sudden, curt yell.

“Blixer, just stop!” Suenami’s gaze filled with a distant fear, a small frown stretching across his face in place of the once mad grin. “Blix… It’s me… Kubix.” The cyan glow intensified, surrounding the once pink ‘villain’ like a peaceful, luminous aura. “This is just a disguise… I came to get you out of here.”

Blixer felt his heart stutter, his eye’s glow faltering as his growl cut off abruptly. He squeaked, scrambling backwards as he stared at ‘Suenami’, his gaze fearful and bright.

“No no no no, you’re not him!” Blixer screamed, panicked. “You’re not Kubix! You can’t be, you-”

The so-called villain sighed, standing. For a moment, Blixer feared an attack, but ‘Suenami’ merely stepped back, holding his arms out to his sides, showing that his hands were free.

“I’m unarmed, Blix. I promise.”

Blixer narrowed his eyes, stuttering, “P-prove it!” He shook his head wildly, tearing futilely at the chains. He could hardly stand, the magical locks draining his powers… preventing him from so much as summoning a cannon without getting shocked. “You’re not Kubix! You’re more insane than I thought you were if you thought this would work!”

‘Suenami’ flinched, taking a step back. He was… genuinely shocked by Blixer’s anger… he hadn’t seen the shape react so violently to anything in a long time…

He sighed, shaking his head. “Alright… If you insist…” The cyan glow spread, becoming so bright that Blixer had to shield his eyes. Blixer felt his heart stop as he heard the oddly familiar voice, “I’m sorry if I scared you… it was the only way to sneak in here…”

Blixer hesitantly opened his eye, squinting to see through the lingering glow. As his eye refocused, his breath caught, and he found himself trying to stand, shaking.

“Dad.” Blixer’s voice broke, the growl completely dropping from his tone as he stared at the square before him. “Dad…” His eye watered, and he began tearing at the chains holding him back, wishing he could exit the barrier blocking him from reaching Kubix.

Kubix smiled sadly. “Don’t worry… I’m gonna get you out of here…” He raised a softly glowing hand.

Blixer’s smile grew, and he shuddered, pausing in his attempts to escape.

“H-how… Suenami has the key…?” He tugged at the chains again. “He locked me here… forced me to shatter shapes for him, Kubix…” He hugged himself, shaking. “I don’t want to be a monster anymore… please don’t let me hurt anyone again…”

“I promise, you’ll never hurt anyone again.”

Blixer’s eye lit up, and for a moment, he looked just like the innocent, happy child that Kubix once knew. However, as his smile stretched to unnatural lengths, the square was suddenly reminded of what happened to him… of what Blixer had become.

“I missed you so much, Dad…” The smaller shape chirped, “Can we go out for ice cream? Or… or fly a kite?” He pressed his face against the barrier. “I know it sounds boring, but… I just want… to be a normal kid again… please…”

Kubix’s gaze softened, his cyan glow dimming slightly, save for the energy collecting in his palms. He smiled at Blixer.

The manic shape continued to ramble, “I’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for you… for a while, I thought you weren’t coming, but here you are! I missed you, Dad. I was so tired of being a monster…”

“Hey… Blix… don’t worry.” Something changed in the square’s tone, and Blixer squeaked in slight fear, afraid of the sudden spike in Kubix’s power… specifically, his attack power… Kubix lowered his voice to a whisper, trying to sound comforting but only succeeding in scaring Blixer even more. “You don’t have to be a monster anymore, kid…”

Blixer tilted his head, squeaking, “Dad?” His horns flicked back in worry, and in the reflected light, Kubix could almost see a glint of childish naivete shining… or perhaps, a glimmer of insanity, ready to lash out at any given moment. Blixer frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Kubix hissed, “I knew it was too late…” He shook  his head. “I wanted to believe you were still there, but…”

Blixer scrambled back, his eye wide. “Kubix… what are you-”

Kubix cut him off. “You’ve been stuck here for so long… I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner, bud… we could have saved you…”

Blixer’s eye twitched, and he seemed to falter, his head starting to ache as he tried once again to stand. “Kubix.” His tone became harsh. “You’re right here… you can save me, just get me out of here!” He lashed out, raising a claw and attempting to summon forth his offensive magic. He winced as the magic chains sparked, blocking most of his natural power. “Get me out of here!”

“I can’t!” Kubix snapped. His eyes flashed with a rage-filled light, and he snarled, “You’re too far gone… but you don’t have to be this way anymore… I promise.”

Blixer shook his head, disheartened. “N-no… you wouldn’t hurt me…” His voice grew frantic, his tone becoming shrill and anxious as his horns flicked back, tears welling up in his eyes. “You came all this way just to hurt me?”

Kubix cringed, turning away. He raised a hand, sighing as a familiar, harmful, corrupted energy swirled in his palm. “I’m sorry…”

Blixer’s eye widened, and he let out a ragged scream as the cyan blast hit him head on. He had no time to dodge it, the corrupted energy searing through his body painfully. It tore cleanly through his chest, leaving a gaping hole that, unlike the time he fought Suenami, wasn’t going to heal. He stared up at Kubix in disbelief, shaking, unable to speak for his throat was filling with blood and bile. He let out a gurgling cough, pink liquid rolling down his face.

Kubix kneeled at the edge of the barrier, staring hollowly through him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. His impersonation powers kicked in, pink energy shimmering around him and changing his form to that of Suenami again. The disguised king forced a wide grin, yet his eye glowed with a sad light.

He didn’t want Blixer to spend his last moments feeling so betrayed, so he changed his face, looking as much like that wretched Suenami as he could handle. Blix didn’t deserve to be shattered by his own father, no matter what he’d done...

Blixer’s confusion instantly melted into rage, and he shrieked, slamming his entire body against the barrier.

Kubix winced. He ground out in his best impression of Suenami, “It’s a shame…. A shame indeed.” A bitter chuckle left him as he stood, backing away from the barrier. “You lost your usefulness so quickly…”

Blixer hissed, arching up and clawing at the barrier. He cleared his throat just enough to screech, “Suenami!” He slammed his head against the wall, his horns digging into the glasslike forcefield. “I’ll shatter you... I’ll shatter you!”

Kubix left the room, squeezing his now singular eye shut. His horns flicked back, and his steps became quick and anxious. He mentally begged Blixer to stop screaming, barely able to focus on his own thoughts as the child… no… monster’s cries rang out.

It was for the best, he assured himself. In those horrid months trapped by Suenami, something about him had changed. Blixer was no longer the heroic, childish shape he’d once been. Kubix had watched him shatter innocents in cold blood, having been mentally broken down by Suenami’s torment. He was a threat, and no matter how much it hurt him, Kubix was the best shape to take him down.

He sighed as the screams finally ceased, trailing off into pitiful whimpers. Blixer’s sobs echoed through the building. Kubix felt his heart clench as his son began crying for not his father, but the very monster he’d just been threatening to kill.

“Suenami… please…don’t let me die here…”

Kubix hesitantly peered inside the room, flinching as he saw Blixer. His breath caught, and he ducked back behind the wall, shaking. His transformation dropped, his appearance flickering back to normal as his distress took him over.

The forced, manic smile that had stretched across his face before faltered, curving into a deep, despaired frown.

He repeated a mental mantra, “That’s not Blixer… that’s not Blixer… that’s not my son anymore…” It was the only thing keeping him from running in there and healing, or at least comforting his son… or what was left of him. He shuddered, sliding down the wall until he sat there, face buried in his hands, shaking and crying.

Blixer’s pathetic croons continued to assault his senses, filling him with a dangerous mix of protective anger and regretful, despondent sadness.

“Please… I’ll shatter them all… I’ll break them to shards… don’t let me… don’t let me die… please… not again…”

Kubix shuddered. “That’s not Blixer… that’s not Blixer… that’s… not… Blixer.”

The square kept repeating his mantra, unable to ignore his former son’s pained cries. He forced himself to stay there, practically planted to the spot, until he heard the sounds cease entirely. Hesitantly, he stood, his movements slow and cautious. His eyes dimmed to a hopeless, dull blue, and he looked around, sighing. He glanced in the room, wincing a bit when he spotted the pile of dimly glowing dust and shards. He backed away, his breath catching.

He did this… he shattered his own child once again…. Although, in this case, he was the hero of the situation. He shook his head, closing his eyes tightly. All traces of Suenami’s maniacal infection were gone… every shape that had been infected was cured. Every creature that allied with him was dead… including Blixer.

Kubix took a step back, collecting himself. He sighed.

“Sorry, Blix…” A bitter smile quirked at his features. “See ya soon…”